Lewis switched on his torch as the carpet sailed downwards through the inky blackness of a tunnel that seemed to go on for ever. Would it never end, he wondered. And just when he thought it never would, the carpet sailed into a huge cavern, brightly lit by blazing torches in iron sconces that were fastened to the walls.
As the carpet sailed into the cavern, Lewis almost fell off in fright, for the first thing he saw was a huge dragon, its scales glittering red in the light of the torches. Even as he gaped at it in wonder, it sent a stream of bright, sparkling fire across the cavern in a blaze of heat. Casimir had never mentioned a dragon and Lewis, keeping his balance only by a miracle, looked at it in awe as his carpet circled round and took him to a raised dais where several people were seated round a high throne. Thank goodness! Relief flooded through him. One of them was Casimir! His carpet drew closer and although he’d half guessed what to expect, his jaw nevertheless dropped at the sight of Sir James!
Everyone stared at him in amazement and, as he got off the carpet, he felt suddenly lonely and awkward. Casimir had told him about the MacArthur, however, and he’d no hesitation in picking out the strange, regal little figure perched on his throne. He bowed to him and waited.
“Welcome to the hill, Lewis,” the MacArthur said. “Or should I call you ‘The Shadow?’”
“I was the Shadow,” Lewis admitted. “With Ca … Prince Casimir, that is.”
Casimir grinned at him sourly. “Lewis was learning!”
“So this is Lewis?” the Sultan said.
Lewis looked up as he recognized both the face and the voice. It was the Sultan of the pantomime!
“Make your bow,” the MacArthur said, “to His Majesty, Sulaiman the Red, Sultan of Turkey!” So involved had Lewis become in the affairs of the world of magic that this actually came as no surprise at all and he bowed low as he had seen Casimir do on stage. Even as he straightened, a huge eagle spread its wings. Amgarad, he thought, and its master, Lord Rothlan. The goblin at Ardray had talked about them.
Then there was Casimir! “I had to come, Prince Casimir!” he said, going up to him and grasping both his hands, “I wanted to help you and I … well, I thought you might need your carpet.”
At a nod from the MacArthur, Sir James got to his feet and, smiling at Lewis reassuringly, introduced him to the others: Lord Alasdair Rothlan, Lady Ellan and several of the MacArthurs who sat on cushions by the chairs. Archie, Hamish and Jaikie got to their feet and, eyeing him with interest, shook his hand. Sir James then took him towards another man in Highland dress who rose to his feet as they approached. “And this,” he said, “is Neil and Clara’s father, John MacLean, and their mother, Janet.”
The black crow perched on John MacLean’s shoulder, fluttered its wings.
“And Kitor,” Janet MacLean smiled, her hand reaching up to stroke the crow’s black feathers, “Clara’s crow!”
“And that,” Archie said, indicating the dragon, “is Arthur, our dragon.” At the mention of its name, the dragon let loose another burst of flames and turned its great head towards them. Archie grinned. “I’ll take you over to meet him properly afterwards. He’s not in a very good mood just now. A bit upset that Neil and Clara have been kidnapped, you know.”
Sir James interrupted. “You were in the audience this evening, Lewis, and you saw what happened. We’ve just been wondering how we can get Neil and Clara back from Prince Kalman.”
“Why does Prince Kalman hate them so much?” Lewis asked.
“He hates Clara more than he hates Neil,” the Sultan said, taking charge of the conversation. “It was Clara who spoke the magic words that broke the spell round the crown. They were my words and I was able to take my crown back from him when she said them.”
“Where have they gone? Do you know?” Lewis asked, looking around.
“That’s what is troubling us,” the Sultan admitted. “Prince Kalman has used a hex to hide them from the world of magic. We can find no trace of them in our crystals. No trace at all.”
28. Kalman’s Revenge
Neil and Clara shivered violently as they recovered from their surprise at Kalman’s hex and opened their eyes. The warmth of the blazing spotlights in the theatre had vanished the minute the prince had grasped their arms and now they found themselves in freezing blackness.
Neil sensed that the prince was still with them. “Where are we?” he asked, his voice echoing strangely.
“You are where no one will ever find you,” Kalman said, his voice casual and cruel.