“The wing plates were my favorite innovation,” Argus said as he ran his hands along the hull. “It was something I discussed with my friend Pelias back during our quest for the fleece, but I never quite worked out how to do it properly. Not until I put my hands on her.”
“Him,” said Fred. “The Black Dragon is a he.”
The shipbuilder chuckled. “I suppose it could be, little Child of the Earth,” he said, not taking his eyes or hands off the ship. “I never asked Mordred, and he never offered details. Although how he managed to tame such a fierce Dragon into willingly being bonded to a ship is beyond my understanding. I wasn’t given much choice in the matter myself.”
John raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at the other Caretakers. “He doesn’t know? He really doesn’t know who the Dragon is, or rather, was?” he whispered behind his hand. “Don’t you think we ought to tell him?”
“Let it be, for the nonce,” said Bert. “We don’t even know if he can do as he says he can. I certainly never saw any proof of it when we met—we simply took him at his word. No need to complicate matters by bringing up old grudges. And besides,” he added, “if it does work, he’ll know the way the cows ate the cabbage soon enough.”
“So,” Argus said, straightening himself and turning to look at the Caretakers. “What is it you ask of me?”
“You told Quixote and Uncas that you built the Black Dragon,” said Bert. “Now we need you to, uh, undo that which you hath done.”
Houdini rolled his eyes. “We need the Dragon,” he said matter-of-factly, “separated from the ship. Can you do that?”
Argus shrugged. “Of course.”
“It seemed a simple enough thing to do with a wasp,” Houdini said, drawing up alongside the shipbuilder, “but this is a serious matter. Don’t say you can do something you cannot.”
Argus looked at John. “This is a Caretaker? They’re more skeptical than they used to be.”
“Not really,” said John. “He’s just very results-oriented, and skeptical by nature.”
“Building the ship itself was the hard part,” Argus said as he gestured for the others to give him room to work. “Binding something living to it was much easier.”
“Even with Dragons?” asked Fred.
Argus chuckled. “Especially with them, little Child of the Earth. Because binding with a ship is about choosing one’s arête—which means to achieve excellence, to reach one’s highest potential. I simply help guide them in the process.”
“Then how is it reversed?” asked John.
“It’s just as easy,” Argus said, turning to face the masthead. “I simply have to persuade the Dragon that its arête as a ship is done, and now its arête is to once more be a Dragon.”
The shipbuilder bowed his head and placed his hands on the Dragon’s chest, where it merged with the wood and iron of the ship. Murmuring ancient words of power, or perhaps, simply a prayer, he flexed his arms, and suddenly a glow began to emanate from the Dragon.
The hull began to crack and splinter apart. For the first time, the Caretakers could see some of the manner in which the living Dragon had been merged with the structure of the ship. It was almost more of a spiritual blending than a physical one. The head, neck, and arms were only semi-attached, as if they were part of a sculpted masthead; but the wings were attached to part of the structure of the hull, and seemed to separate from it with more force.
Argus’s murmuring became more fervent, and his arms and neck were dripping with sweat. The process was generating a great deal of heat, and so much light that the others had to shield their eyes.
Suddenly the light flared, and a thunderclap echoed deafeningly through the boathouse as Argus flew backward, hitting one of the pilings. Several of the Caretakers rushed to his side, concerned that he had been injured.
“Are you all right?” Jack asked as he and John reached under the shipbuilder’s arms to help him to his feet. “Did you—”
“Look,” Argus said, pointing. “It is done.”
The two Caretakers turned to see what had already rendered the rest of their companions utterly speechless. There, where the shipbuilder had been working, standing amid the splintered remains that had been the fore of the Dragonship, was Madoc.
His beard and hair were overgrown and tangled, but there was no question it was he. Instead of emerging from the binding with the ship as the Black Dragon, as everyone had fully expected, he had emerged as the man he had been before he had accepted the calling, and risen from apprentice to full Dragon, and thence to Dragonship.