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The First Dragon(68)

By:James A. Owen.txt


Holding Caliburn in front of him with his right hand, Madoc strode to Verne and placed his left hand on the Caretaker’s shoulder. “I cannot say whether I consider you an adversary or an ally,” Madoc said, “but I do understand the value of this sacrifice. And I honor you.”

“Believe it or not,” Verne said with tears in his eyes, “that is all I needed to hear.”

Madoc put his hand over the Caretaker’s eyes and with a few swift strokes of the sword removed Verne’s still-beating heart.

“Put it there,” Telemachus instructed, “where the two stairways meet.”

Madoc did as he was told, then covered the heart with one of the standing stones they had found when they arrived. “Blood for blood,” he said to the keep. “May it be worth the price we have paid this day.”

Madoc stepped out of the keep to where Quixote, Fred, and Uncas were covering Verne’s body. “We’ll bury him here,” he said. “If something goes wrong, we shouldn’t be carrying around his body.”

Reluctantly, and with great sorrow, the companions agreed. Verne had been such a presence in all of their lives that it was almost too much to bear that his own had ended so abruptly.

“Look,” Telemachus said as they were finishing the burial. “See what your efforts have wrought.”

Laura Glue was the first to see it and could barely contain her expression of delight, even though the sadness she felt at Verne’s death was still visible on her face.

The tower had grown by several feet as they worked. And now, as they watched, it grew taller still.

“It’s done, Father,” Rose said, her voice barely audible. “You have come full circle at last, and restored what was broken.”

♦ ♦ ♦

“The keep has been restored,” said Madoc, “but the question still remains—how do we get back?”

“It’s the Keep of Time, and there’s only one door,” Telemachus said simply. “That means when you go through it, you’ll be going into the future.”

“In the old keep, only the uppermost door went into the future,” said Charles, “and this one has a doorway, not an actual door. How do we know it will go to the future?”

“That’s just it,” said Edmund. “From here, there isn’t anything but future. It’s all future. So we simply have to focus on the point in the future we want to arrive at, and we should go directly then.” He stopped and swallowed hard. “I hope.”

“You’re entirely right, young Cartographer,” said the old man. “It’s just as if you were standing at the South Pole—the only direction you could go would be north.

“When you walk through the doorway,” Telemachus explained, “it will give significance to the moment, but also duration. You will have begun the process that links the beginning of all things to the future. Here, in this place, it will begin to grow, and it will anchor Chronos time and Kairos time once more—and by connecting this moment to your own future, you will ensure that the connection between the Archipelago and the Summer Country will be restored.”

“So theoretically speaking,” said Rose, “after accounting for the actual days we’ve been gone, we should end up right about the time we left, right?”

Telemachus consulted his watch and his face paled. “Oh dear,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize . . .”

“What is it?” Madoc demanded. “What kind of game are you trying to play now?”

Telemachus held up a hand in supplication and shook his head. “You misunderstand. It’s the avoidance of game playing that has become my purpose, and many years ago . . .” He paused, looking at Edmund. “Many years ago, in my own timeline, I made a promise not to manipulate events if it was in my power to do so. I have helped, encouraged, and prodded at times, but I have never deliberately tried to shape a particular outcome, nor will I do so now.”

“Are you saying that going through the doorway won’t take us home?” asked Rose.

“Not at all,” Telemachus answered mysteriously. “I’m absolutely certain that it will. But it will not be the end of your challenges. There is still one trial to come, and you may have to pay your way through it with dearest blood.”

She looked at him curiously. “You say that we have to pay, but you are coming with us . . . aren’t you?”

He shook his head. “I cannot come with you, I’m afraid,” he said. “This is the only place in time where the two of us can exist together, at least in the Summer Country—and that’s where you’re going. There can only ever be one Imago and one Archimago on earth at the same time—and until now, I have been the Imago. But when you step through the doorway, that burden will shift over to you, and someday you will be the Imago, Rose.”