The First Dragon(16)
“It is an office, not merely a descriptive term,” said Bert. “One is not a Dragon until a Dragon calls you to be one. And once you have become a Dragon, a Dragon you shall remain until a Dragon says otherwise. And,” he added, “seeing as you’re the only one left, I don’t anticipate that happening anytime soon.”
“And if we do this, and somehow find the Architect and convince him to rebuild the keep, the Archipelago will be restored?”
“There’s no way to know for certain,” said Verne, “but this is the first necessary step to finding out.”
“And the Imaginarium Geographica is of no help to you in this? Or the Histories?”
“The Histories that record the future are little more than unfulfilled prophecies,” said Twain, “and the Imaginarium Geographica was unmatched as a travel guide, but, I’m sorry to say, sorely lacking as a time travel aid. Anyroad, Rose, Edmund, and Charles have it with them, whenever they are.”
“We know the Archipelago itself can be restored,” John said, indicating the open facsimile Geographica on the table in front of them, “because all the maps were still there in the original. When the Winter King . . .” He looked at Madoc and swallowed hard. “Sorry. When, um, you first tried to conquer the Archipelago,” John continued, “and the lands were covered in Shadow, they vanished from the Imaginarium Geographica. But they’re all still here, so there must be some way to restore them.”
“Not all,” Fred said quietly. Laura Glue moved closer to him and put a reassuring arm around the little mammal’s shoulders. “Avalon in’t there, and neither is Paralon.”
“I’m sorry, Fred,” said John. “I didn’t forget.”
“Some of the lands are missing?” Madoc asked in surprise. “I thought they weren’t Shadowed.”
“Not Shadowed, as you remember it,” Jack said quietly. “Destroyed, by the Echthroi. The rest, according to what Aven told us before she . . .” He swallowed hard. “The rest were somehow removed, and taken elsewhere by Samaranth. Where he went, I cannot say. But it’s a moot point if we can’t reestablish the connection between worlds by restoring the keep.”
“Well,” Madoc said, standing, “either it’ll work, or it won’t. So let’s go see what Master Shaksberd hath wrought.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Most of the company at Tamerlane House left to walk to the ferryboat Twain would pilot over to the island where the gate stood. Washington Irving and the half-clockwork men they called Jason’s sons stayed behind with Dumas to guard the bridge, and the Elder Caretakers, having wished Madoc and the others good luck, stayed in the house.
Also remaining behind at Verne’s insistence were the Zen Detective, Aristophanes, and his escorts, Uncas and Don Quixote. The detective protested, claiming foul play, until Twain judiciously let slip what they had originally done with Daniel Defoe after he had defied the Caretakers. After that, Aristophanes was more than content to wait things out in the comfort of the house.
As the companions walked across the expanse of sand and stone to the boathouse, Poe watched from seclusion high above. John caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and gave a plaintive wave, which, after a moment, Poe returned before closing the drapes.
♦ ♦ ♦
“So, this enemy, the Echthroi,” Madoc said as they clambered into the ferryboat. “They are a constant threat?”
“Mostly through their agents,” Bert said with a sigh. “The shadow-possessed servants called Lloigor.”
The Caretakers were almost relieved when mention of the Lloigor caused Madoc to shudder. He had, after all, been one of them—the one the Echthroi once considered their greatest weapon.
“I’m sorry,” said Madoc. “Sometimes, when you live long enough, you don’t realize what kind of life your choices have culminated in. It is a path of a thousand steps—but the first step in the wrong direction can change it all. I let my bitterness determine my choices, and I was swayed by having followed the wrong teacher. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for my part in it all.”
“You’ve more than made amends, Madoc,” Laura Glue said, looking not at him, but to John, for reassurance. “You have already done more than we could have hoped.”
“At least there haven’t been any more incidents with some of the fouler creatures who used to serve the purposes of, ah, the man you were,” Jack said, shuddering at the memory of their first encounter, long ago, with the creatures called Wendigo.