“Ah,” Houdini said as he raised his hand to speak, then cleared his throat, “that may be in large part because most of those creatures were in the Archipelago when it was cut off, and thus our adversaries lost access to them. They were not, however, the only creatures at their disposal. Of that, you can be sure.”
“How sure?” asked John.
“Sure enough,” Houdini said, reddening slightly. “I cataloged most of them myself at Burton’s request.”
“I will surely burn for recruiting that man,” Dickens lamented. “Burn, I tell you.”
♦ ♦ ♦
The sun had set fully by the time the company of Caretakers made their way to the Zanzibar Gate. The path was well lit with lanterns, which John noticed seemed to give the whole area an unearthly glow. He mentioned this to the others, and Jack shook his head.
“I don’t think it’s just the lanterns,” he said, pointing at Shakespeare’s construct. It was radiating with a pulsing light that grew stronger the closer they got.
“Is it working somehow?” John asked Shakespeare. “Did you manage to—”
“Not my workings,” the Bard replied, cutting him off. “His.”
He was pointing at Madoc, and suddenly the others realized Shakespeare’s guess was correct—the mere presence of Madoc was powering the Zanzibar Gate.
“How does it work?” Madoc asked. “It looks as if it was made of the same kind of stone as the keep was.”
“The very same, in fact,” said Shakespeare, “minus the wooden structures that made the keep, ah, well . . . burnable.”
Madoc’s expression darkened a bit at that, but he said nothing.
Shakespeare stepped forward and indicated the series of markings engraved on the inner ring of the gate’s aperture. “These runes represent numbers in Chronos time, and can be set for up to seven different decimal places,” he explained, “giving the gate a possible range of a million years or more. For this trip, we only need to set six.”
He showed them a display of crystals on a pedestal that had a mirror-image duplicate on the other side. “This is the mechanism that controls the settings,” he said. “Each crystal corresponds to a rune carved into the gate. As you enter, the inner ring will shift and lock into place. When all seven are locked, as they are now, all that remains”—he turned to Madoc—“is for a Dragon to step through and pass from this time into that one.”
“I’d like to point out that just this sort of thing was attempted once before,” Houdini harrumphed, “by the Imperial Cartological Society, and as I recall, you were so put out by our efforts that you burned it to the ground.”
“Your efforts were commendable,” said Twain, “but your motives were suspect, my dear magician. You, or more specifically, Burton and Dr. Dee, were trying to re-create the keep in the service of, and for the purposes of, the Shadow of the Winter King. Now, however, you serve a higher purpose.”
Houdini rolled his eyes and looked at Madoc.
“I understand,” Madoc replied. “That sounded like so many fewmets to me, too.”
“The gate should exist in both times,” Shakespeare explained, “and much like the keep did, it will persist into the future, and carry you forward. The portal will close once you’ve all passed through, but you should be able to open it again from the other side.”
He gestured at a rectangular indentation at the top of the control panel. “This is where the plate with the destination should be inset,” he explained. “The exact location, as well as the specific time you arrive, are largely intuitive, much like going through the doorways of the keep. This is important,” he cautioned. “If you aren’t focused, if you allow your minds to wander and drift as you enter, it might override the settings and place you somewhere you didn’t plan to be.
“If there is some need to go elsewhere, or, ah, elsewhen, rather,” Shakespeare continued, “Edmund should be able to create a new destination plate to use. After that, simply repeat the process as I’ve explained it to you, lock the settings, activate the gate, step through, and then you’ll be home.”
Madoc stepped toward the gate, which brightened visibly at his approach. Impulsively, he reached out and put his hands on the stone.
The world seemed to shift out of focus for a moment, before coming back to clarity in a wave that spread outward from the gate. The air underneath the arch shimmered as if it was heated, and it took on a nearly reflective quality.
“It’s quite an accomplishment,” John said, smiling broadly. “With this gate, and Edmund’s natural talents, we practically have a replacement for the keep right here at our doorstep.”