Clara gasped and clutched at Maria as their magic carpet approached Stara Zargana. “Look!” she gasped, “look at the citadel. It isn’t black anymore!” They looked at one another in amazement and Clara gestured to Neil and Colonel Strelitz who were travelling alongside them.
“Look at the citadel!” she called. “It’s changed colour!”
“It must be because Lord Jezail is dead,” Colonel Strelitz called back, looking in wonder at the shining white towers that rose, clean and shining, against the green backdrop of forest-clad mountains. His heart filled with hope. Life was going to be very different now that Lord Jezail had gone. He was going to marry Maria and, now a colonel and the newly appointed Commander of the Citadel Guard, he would never have to return to Dragonsgard and its lonely, rocky valley.
Soon they were flying over the red-roofed houses of the little town and in no time at all had landed in the deep courtyard of the citadel. Clara smiled at Maria, her eyes shining as she looked round. How different it all was from that dreadful night when they’d left for Dragonsgard!
Carpets landed all round them and it was Prince Kalman who led the way towards the rounded curve of shallow steps where Count Vassili, the new Governor of the Citadel, waited to receive them. The Citadel Guard, in smart, white uniforms, snapped to attention as they approached and it was a happy, chattering group that entered its halls.
“You should have seen it when I was here,” Clara said to Neil. “It was awful; really dark and creepy.” She looked up at the shining, vaulted ceiling and marvelled at the difference.
Count Vassili ushered them into the Great Hall of the citadel and it was then that they saw Dragonslayer. Hung against the glass of a tall window, it glowed golden with happiness.
“I asked it to choose where it would like to rest and it chose the window,” Count Vassili explained. “After hundreds of years shut up in Sir Pendar’s tomb, it wanted the light and the view. That’s why it’s so high up,” he admitted. “The window overlooks the citadel garden but from that height it can see over the walls to the town and the mountains and forests beyond.”
“Does it remember its past,” Clara asked curiously.
“Only vaguely, I think,” the count answered. “The hex you used from the Book of Spells blotted out all of its evil desires. It’s now a very definite force for good.”
Prince Kalman looked at him, knowing there was more.
“It was only after I had it placed in the window that the citadel started to change colour!”
“A good omen,” Lord Rothlan smiled.
“And a powerful one,” Prince Kalman added, looking at the sword speculatively.
The sword heard their words, for its hearing was sharp, and smiled to itself. It had no intention of revealing just how powerful its magic was or how, from its vantage point high in the windows of the citadel, it could use it to its best advantage. For the sword, as always, had its own agenda and cleansing the citadel of Jezail’s warped personality was just the start …
Lunch was a pleasant meal as they talked lazily over the happenings of the past days. It was as they rose from the table that Clara asked the count if she could show Neil her old rooms in the tower.
“Why, of course, Clara,” he answered readily. “You can go where you like. Your room will be just as you left it.”
Clara nodded, secretly glad that nothing had been changed and, beckoning to Neil, headed for the spiral staircase that wound its way up the tower, stopping every now and then to peer through the slit windows. “I was so miserable and unhappy here,” she murmured, as she opened the door to her bedroom and looked round, “but there’s no feeling of it left.”
Neil walked over to the window and peered down at the red roofed houses and narrow, winding streets of Stara Zargana.
“I used to stand there,” Clara said, sadly, “and look at the houses, wondering who lived in them and what their lives were like. I thought about Mum and Dad, too.” She paused. “I can’t believe we’ll be seeing them tomorrow. They must be worried sick about us. I mean … we’ve been here for ages when you think about it.”
Neil shook his head. “Don’t forget that magic time and our time are completely different,” he pointed out. “When we do get back, we won’t have been gone any time at all, as far as Mum and Dad are concerned. Anyway, Lady Ellen’s there and even before we set off, she’d more or less convinced them that everything would be fine.”
“Do you think we’ll ever come back here?”
Neil looked at her ironically. “I’d say so,” he grinned. “Didn’t you hear Prince Kalman talking to Count Vassili about hunting wild boar? Not that I want to hunt wild boar,” he added hurriedly, “but, well, I always liked Count Vassili, even when he taught us German at Netherfield … “he tailed off as a sudden thought struck him. “Do you know, I’d forgotten all about school!”
“So had I!” Clara looked at him in horror. “I guess our holidays must be almost over!”
“I haven’t looked at my holiday homework either,” Neil groaned as they left the room and clattered down the dizzying spiral stairs.
“Hey! Neil! Clara!”
Clara beamed with delight as she saw Hamish and Jackie walking towards them. Both looked absolutely exhausted.
“Clara!” Jackie said in relief. “They told us you were here! Thank goodness you’re safe!”
“We heard that Amgarad rescued you from some dragon’s castle or other!” Hamish added. “Are you alright?”
Clara laughed. “I’m fine,” she smiled, “but where’s Archie?”
“He stayed in the Valley of the Dragons,” Jaikie answered. “Arthur wanted to see that everything was sorted out before he left. I think the dragons are throwing a party for him.”
“We wondered why you didn’t turn up at Trollsberg.” Neil looked at him enquiringly.” All the MacArthur would tell us was that you were busy. Did you see any fighting?”
Jaikie shook his head, smothering a yawn. “Jezail’s men were glad to surrender,” he said, tiredly. “We stayed behind to round up the last of them.”
“He’d sent scouts in to suss the place out,” Hamish explained, “and we had to scour every nook and cranny to find them. By the time we’d rounded them all up, the carpets were pretty shattered, I can tell you!”
Clara looked concerned. “You do know we’re leaving tomorrow morning, don’t you?” she asked.
“We heard,” Jaikie nodded, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “We could have done with another rest day, but what to do? The carpets are asleep already and we’re heading for bed as soon as we’ve eaten. I can hardly believe that by this time tomorrow, we’ll be home!”
“I can hardly believe it, either,” Neil sighed. “We’ve got school next week!”
“I’m not going to say goodbye to you, Neil … nor to you, Clara,” Count Vassili smiled, taking their hands in his, “because I know you’ll be back. We, the Onegin, are deeply in your debt and you will always be welcome here, you know that!”
Neil and Clara murmured their thanks, genuinely sorry to be leaving.
“And don’t forget to work hard at your German grammar when you’re back at Netherfield,” the count urged with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s spoken here and if you’re going to go out exploring on your next visit, then it might help if you speak the language!”
As they thanked him again, a chill wind swirled round the shallow steps of the citadel blowing a scatter of brown leaves round their ankles. Autumn was setting in and despite the blankets they’d piled on their carpets, they knew it was going to be a cold journey home.
“I hope you put on that extra sweater I laid out for you,” Maria fussed as she hugged Clara before seeing her safely onto her carpet. “I hadn’t realized how bitterly cold it was up there until I flew back with you the other day!”
Clara smiled and waved as her carpet followed Neil’s into the air and drifted towards those of Hamish and Jaikie. They’d fly home together, side by side, for company.
Prince Kalman, Lord Rothlan and the MacArthur then said their goodbyes and waved as their carpets lifted higher and higher until they soared over the high wall of the courtyard.
As they flew over Stara Zargana, Clara turned to look at the citadel one last time. Neil wasn’t terribly bothered about it but now that it was free of Lord Jezail’s menacing presence, she found that she was really going to miss it. I’ll try and paint a picture of it when I get home, she thought, trying to memorize the shape of the slender turrets, the delicately crenellated battlements and the massive height of the great door. She kept her eyes on it for as long as she could and it was only when it faded to tiny, white speck that she sighed and turned her face towards Scotland and home.