Episode 6: Loneliness and Adventure, Chapter 6

Jenkins reeled back from the mirror as if he had been punched. Turning on his heel, he made for the office, yelling at the top of his voice for the others. They clattered into the room as the perfect knight, with shaking hands, attempted for the third time to set the globe.

Ezekiel was the first by his side. With the lithe fingers that he had found so useful in his previous profession, he took the small pebble from his mentor's hands and set the globe himself. Behind him, he heard the Colonel's swift stride march up and pull the knight away from his pupil.

"Jenkins, what's wrong?" Eve demanded, one hand still fixed on each of his arms, pinioning him in place. "Where are we going? What's the emergency?"

"She's... They're... Dunvegan is under attack," he stammered out, eyes wide. "Seonaidh used the mirror. Asked for our help. Asked me to help."

"Then we'll help," said Eve, gently but firmly. "Jones has got the door ready. I've got my gun. I don't think I've ever managed to count how many weapons you've got lying around in here. We all grab something, something sensible, and we go see how the land lies, right?"

Jenkins nodded mutely, still shaking.

"Go pick up your sword and shield, soldier," she commanded. "We have a castle to reinforce."

Without a word, the knight turned to his own desk, behind which none but the errant Jones dared venture. He emerged with a sword and scabbard and was buckling it into place just as Flynn returned doing the same. Stone was fixing a diamond and sapphire necklace into place around Cassandra's neck, the scabbard-less rapier from the umbrella stand tucked under his arm. Charlene was checking a gun of her own, while a long knife hung from her belt.

"What can I take?" Ezekiel interjected. "I'm fairly sure I can shoot a gun. It's just point and squeeze, right? Or a sword? Pointy end goes into other guy, right?"

"Ezekiel, stay here," Eve ordered. "Man the door with da Vinci. Make sure nothing comes through that isn't us."

"No! Hell no! This is MY girlfriend we're going to rescue here! I'm not just going to sit back and let everyone else do all the work!"

"And that's precisely why you're not going," cut in Eve. "You're way to close to this. Add to that the facts that you can't fight, you do not know how to shoot a gun, or how to use a sword, and you have no control over or protection from magic, and I think it's fairly clear your presence would only make our jobs harder. We can't leave the door unprotected, either. We need our best fighters in the field and someone smart back here to stop any unwanted guests."

"That pebble brings you out in the gardens," the young thief pointed out. "What if you need someone sneaky to break in?"

"We'll call you if we need you," said the Colonel, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I promise."

Da Vinci enclosed the young man's arm in a vicelike grip and dragged him backwards. As Ezekiel's eyes met Jenkins', a memory of a conversation passed through his mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but caught a pale shake of the head from his mentor.

"Keep them safe," he said, watching his friends disappear two by two into the line of fire. Jenkins nodded silently, his lips drawn into a tight thin line and his jaw set, then followed Charlene and the others through the door.

The wormhole brought them out in the lower part of the gardens, outside the curtain wall. For a moment, Jenkins was disorientated, looking around himself in confusion. So much had changed. But then, nearly six centuries does that to a place. Cassandra, the first through the portal with Stone, had started leading the way up to the gates before he had finally reconciled his memories of the place with the ground he stood on there and then. He followed them, his eyes darting watchfully to right and left, his ears straining for any sound of battle.

Charlene manoeuvred herself to his side. "I thought in the legends you had a shield?"

"One that no man can wield but I," he murmured back.

"Would it not be useful at a time like this?"

"Probably," Jenkins agreed, "but for some idiotic reason, possibly linked to my ability to survive just about anything anyway, I left it with my wife as a promise that I would return. One day."

"Do they know?" Charlene pressed, halting as the two reached the castle gates.

"The boy knows some, but not all," he replied, pausing by her side. "The rest know nothing, but I think Miss Cillian and Mr Carsen suspect something."

"Does he know you might not come back from this?" Charlene frowned.

Jenkins shook his head. "Truthfully, I am praying that this is one adventure I do not return from. I'm sure you can explain matters to him if that is the case."

"It won't just be him who needs explanations," drawled the retired secretary, patting him on the arm and walking over the threshold.

Jenkins stood for a moment, looking up at the stones he had once called home. Then, for the first time in five hundred and ninety three years, Galeas entered the walls of Dunvegan.

XXXX

Ezekiel shook off da Vinci's steadying arm as the door swung shut. His mind was turning cartwheels, playing out various scenarios. In some he used one of his other tokens to link the door into the interior of the castle. In others he waited patiently for the serpent brotherhood to attack the portal that was already up and running. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes he broke into the castle in time to save the day and the princess, his princess. Sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he arrived just in time to watch the strange shadowy figure of the grey man, who had attacked them at Threave, slice open his beloved Seonaidh's throat. Sometimes he arrived at exactly the wrong place and the wrong time, and imagined himself lying, bleeding out on the carpet, while Jenkins, Flynn and the others fought to get to him instead of to her. Fire shot through his hand, and he swore at the sudden physical pain. Looking round, he saw the he had punched the solid wall of one of the pillars supporting the mezzanine.

"Ogni uomo รจ un idiota in amore," muttered da Vinci. "Go: put ice on that and bind it. I will guard the door."

"Less than half an hour ago you thought you were running errands for an Elizabethan spymaster," Ezekiel pointed out. "I think I'll pass."

"Really?" Da Vinci countered. "I thought your ability to use your hands was important to you? Or do you intend to face our enemies both injured and ignorant?"

"Hey!" Ezekiel frowned.

"Andare!" Da Vinci cried, shooing the boy out of the room. "And do not think of coming back without la fasciatura on that and something to cool it."

"At least they left us both swords," the young man grumbled, heading for the door.

Da Vinci picked up the swords from the table, where he had placed them. "No, they did not. Find your own weapon. These are both mine."

XXXX

The castle seemed quiet as the Librarians and company approached the front door.

"Cassandra, you know the place best," whispered Eve. "You take point. Can you hold one of those magic shields and scan for other magic at the same time?"

"I think so," replied the redhead. "Especially here. There's a lot of background magic though. It's everywhere, even out here."

"The curtain wall has been the boundary of the castle to faerie magic, both of friend and foe, since the fourteenth century," murmured Galeas.

"So what does that mean for your powers?" Eve frowned. "They'll be amplified I guess, but are we talking the difference between a gun and a grenade, here, or between a gun and a nuke?"

"Hard to tell," shrugged Cassandra. "Somewhere in between, probably. I was already used to the background magic of Dunvegan itself, but there's something else here. Something more."

"We'll just have to take our chances," winced the Colonel. "I know I don't need to say it, Cassandra, but control it as best you can, okay. If things start getting foggy or you feel dizzy at all, fall back and let us handle it from there. Stone, stay close to her."

"Always," murmured the cowboy.

"Charlene, Jenkins, you take the left," the Colonel ordered. "Flynn and I will take the right. Guns to the front. Swords to the rear. If Cassandra's force field holds, the only place anyone is likely to get close enough for a sword is at the back of the group."

"Will our bullets get through this shield of yours, Cassandra?" Charlene asked, catching the redhead's eye.

"They should do," she nodded. "I use my mind as the focus, the artefact as the power source, so whatever kind of force field I focus on, one way or neither, that's what we'll get."

"Make sure it's one way!" Eve and Charlene said together.

The six comrades lined up behind Cassandra in the formation Eve had planned. An indigo shimmer tinged the air before her and, as Cassandra raised a hand, the castle doors swung open.

Dust shimmered in the air of the castle interior, creating glittering beams where the fading sunlight edged through the windows. Nothing else moved. Not a breath of air disturbed the glimmering patterns. Slowly the magical shield passed through the beams, its passage invisible to all but Cassandra. The group held their pattern as they cleared the hall and ground floor rooms. When they reached the stairs, Cassandra stopped.

"Up or down?" Eve asked Charlene, from Cassandra's questioning glance. "You know this place better than I do. Which way would the family retreat?"

"Down," cut in Galeas. "That's the oldest part of the castle down there, if it's still there. That's where her library will be. She'll want to protect it."

"But the Fairy Flag is upstairs," frowned Eve.

"You're adorable," drawled Charlene.

"Fairy Flag upstairs is a fake," sighed Eve, rolling her eyes. "Duly noted. Cassandra, lead the way downstairs."

"The archives are down here," agreed the synaesthete with a shy smile. "Charlene, Jacob and I have all spent time there."

"Then why...?" Eve looked confused.

"The tower I woke up in, that first time," replied Cassandra, making her way down the stairs. "That's what's upstairs. It's called the Fairy Tower. Flora used it to recharge my magical batteries, so to speak."

"The castle recharged you," Galeas pointed out, bringing up the rear. "The tower just stopped the artefacts here supercharging you. It kept you as far away from them as possible, until you were back on your feet of course. The magic here is so old it has seeped into the very stones they used to build on it."

"On it?" Flynn mouthed to Stone, who shrugged and nodded.

Cassandra turned a corner and held up a hand. The team froze, silent and still. Eve and Charlene craned forward to see. Before them was a corridor, stone walled and slab floored. Spread out along it were four suits of mediaeval armour, each standing to attention as if they were nothing more than an incongruous display in the servants halls.

"Think they're like the ones from your parents'?" Charlene asked in a hoarse whisper.

Cassandra nodded. "They weren't down here before."

"Where are the archives?" Eve enquired, ninety percent sure she already knew the answer.

"See that spiral staircase at the other end of the corridor," whispered Cassandra. "The floor below them."

"Of course they are," murmured Eve.

"I say we just walk straight through and see what happens," shrugged Charlene. "Worst comes to worst, they bounce of Sabrina's magic bubble for a bit."

"It's a shield, not a bubble," hissed Cassandra. "I can't control it all the way round us yet, and I can't exactly hold it forever, either!"

"Moving forward is still our only option," said Eve. "Everyone stay close, and stay quiet. We don't want to set these guys off if we can help it."

"We don't know what sets them off either," pointed out Charlene.

Apparently, what set them off was more of a delayed reaction to magic. The magic evident in Cassandra's shield. With her synaesthetic vision switched on, Cassandra watched as first one, then two, then four lines sprouted from her shimmering blue invisible shield. Lines of an angry purplish pink, contrasting garishly with the dark indigo of the shield itself, shot outward to the four suits of armour. By the time they had latched on to the shield, however, the team was right in the centre of the corridor, with the four suits closing in on them from all four directions.

"Run!" Flynn yelled out, parrying the sword of one knight. "Get Cassandra past them and get behind her shield."

"I can't hold it," cried Cassandra, wiping blood from her nose. "They're draining it somehow."

"Flynn get back here!" Eve called, dragging Jenkins back behind the shield.

"If Cassandra can't hold the shield," her husband replied, "one of us at least has to keep these guys busy while you get to the archives."

"We have a better plan," she retorted, reaching out and yanking him out of the way of two descending swords. "Come here!"

With Flynn safely behind the wavering indigo wall, Eve turned him round and steered him towards Cassandra, where Jenkins and Charlene were waiting. Charlene inclined her head to the redhead's shoulder and Flynn spotted Jenkins' hand outstretched and waiting. The penny dropped. He did the same. Charlene held up three fingers, then two, then one.

The wave of magical energy didn't just knock their four attackers off their feet. It echoed down the hallway and reverberated through the walls, bouncing back and sending the group flying.

"That was a little, er, more than I expected," Cassandra coughed, shaking off the dust that had been swept up in the wave.

"My fault," groaned Galeas. "Linking to me looped in the castle too. At least the part we're in now."

"Are you okay?" Eve asked, her brow furrowed into a concerned frown. "You don't look too good. How do you feel?"

"My age," grumbled Galeas, reaching out to a nearby wall for support and hauling himself to his feet. "Ugh. I haven't felt this drained since eleven ninety."

"Crusades?" Flynn enquired, helping Charlene up. "Third one wasn't it?"

"For some," Galeas nodded, reaching for his fallen sword. "For me it was the start of two years of undercover work, trying to find out how some rich kid with a bow and arrow was able to get in and out of Nottingham castle undetected. I sincerely do not believe anyone ever sleeps well in a tree!"

Flynn looked surprised, then thoughtful, then his eyes brightened and he raised a hand. Jenkins threw him a look. Flynn raised both hand in surrender. "Now is not the time. I get it."

Their hollow opponents lay in inert and scattered pieces at the far end of the corridor when the team spread out into a long line to file down the spiral staircase. Cassandra, looking tired, but still determined, led the way. Stone followed her, with Eve behind him. Flynn and Charlene brought up the rear.

"You sure you're okay," Jacob whispered into Cassie's ear. "These staircases are designed to make attack difficult. We could do without the shield for a bit, you know."

"I'm fine," she replied, but through gritted teeth. "I'm almost entirely using the castle's own magic now."

"Yeah, but Cassie, you're a conduit here. A conductor. I've seen what happens when a wire has to carry an electrical current it can't handle. I don't want the magical equivalent to happen to you."

"We have to do this, Jacob. I'll be fine."

They reached the final floor. Time worn stones spread out before them into a curving corridor. Double doors presented themselves. Heavy doors, of carved oak and bronze. A tree spread its branches between the metalwork. It was a tree the Librarians all recognised.

Cassandra raised her hand to the door, but it remained stolidly secure. She shook her head. "I can't budge it. I don't think it's locked. That shouldn't even make a difference though."

Galeas reached out and motioned to her to lower her hand. He stepped up to the door. "Flora? It's us. Let us in."

The door swung inward at his touch. The room beyond looked like a tornado had swept through it. Books lay open, their pages slashed and torn. Scrolls lay crushed under fallen furniture. Tables were overturned. Chairs were missing legs. One was missing all its legs, with nothing but sliced through stumps to hold it up off the floor.

"Flora!" Galeas charged into the room, eyes darting from wall to wall.

"Over here," called a much younger voice than he was expecting. "We're over here."

Galeas led the group of rescuers round the corner of a cabinet. He froze. Just for a moment. Just long enough for the sword to fall from his hand. Before the hilt had met the stone floor, he was moving again. Racing forward. Seonaidh sat, huddled in a corner, her hands pressing down on a red stain on her ancestor's abdomen.

"I can't make it stop," sobbed the girl. "I've tried magic. I've tried everything I know. It won't stop."

"No! No, we were supposed to have time!" Galeas begged lifting Flora's cold, pale hand in his. Her eyes stirred. He pressed her hand to his lips. "You can heal. You always heal."

"Not this time, Galeas," breathed the Cailleach. "We knew this was coming, you and I."

"Not so soon," he shook his head. "Not like this."

"You would rather I wasted away slowly and in pain?" Flora asked him, her lips twitching up at the corners.

"I would rather we had time," he said, running his hand over her hair. "Time to say goodbye."

"We have that, at least," she sighed, making an effort to open her eyes and look up at him. "It's my own fault. I should have known better."

"What is? What happened?"

"Much," she murmured. "Much has happened and much is my fault. I do not know what enchantment they used, or how they got it in here, but once those shells of warriors found their way into the castle itself, every suit of armour rallied to their call. All of them. I should have seen it coming. I should have known. You never did wear a visor down in battle."

Galeas frowned. "Visor? My armour. My armour joined the enchanted ones?" He looked back down at her wound, and a new horror spread over his features. "My armour did this. My sword."

"I foolishly thought it was you," she smiled. "I let it pass. It wasn't until it already had the ring that I thought to question it. By then it was too late."

"The ring?" Galeas, frowned. "Not..."

"Aye, the cursed one," she tried to nod and coughed instead. She turned her head to Seonaidh. "Go now child. Take the others upstairs and tell them all that has passed here. I would spend this time alone with my husband."

With tearstained cheeks the girl kissed the woman she had always called grandmother and rose, picking her way around the dropped sword and leading the others from the room. She did not speak again until they reached the oddly untouched kitchen.

"Seonaidh, what happened?" Charlene asked, with a gentleness only Flynn had been privileged to see her use before.

"I don't know how they got in exactly," she sniffed, focussing on the menial task of setting the kettle to boil to make tea. "I do know they had help, though. My mother. I saw them, marching down the upper hallway. They walked right past her and she did nothing. No look of surprise. Not even confusion. I ran. Ran to Grandmother. I told her what I had seen. We tried to retreat to the archives, but the armour of our own house caught us. We had to fight our way through them. We ran again. All the way to the archives. They were right behind us. They got in. They were looking for something. Then, all of a sudden, they stopped. They looked round, like they heard something. Then they left. That was when another suit of armour stepped into the room. One I had not seen before. It bore a white shield with a red cross. My Grandmother knew it though. She let it by. She told me... She told me we were safe now. Then she noticed something. She tried to stop it..."

The girl's voice faltered and Cassandra wrapped a consoling arm around her shoulders, steering her to Charlene and a chair, then taking over tea making duty.

They were still sitting there, nursing cooling mugs of tea, when Galeas stepped heavily into the room. He looked older than they had ever seen him, his face haggard and drawn. Flynn stood up and offered the old man a chair. Galeas shook his head.

"You can go now," he murmured, not raising his head. "She is gone."

"I'll stay," offered Charlene quietly. "You'll need someone to help around the place."

Galeas shook his head. "This is a family matter. And Flora was my family, not yours. I am only glad the current chief and his wife were not here to witness this. Seonaidh and I, and the castle, will set this place to rights before they come home."

"There will be arrangements to make," pressed Charlene.

"Then I will make them," he said firmly, finally raising his eyes to meet hers.

Charlene felt the unwavering strength of that gaze and nodded, saying nothing. She knew, better than any other in the room, the pain and loss that lurked behind it, waiting to burst forth like water behind a dam. She rose, bending to offer Seonaidh her sympathies and promise her help if she needed it. Then shooed the others out of the room.

Galeas sat down by his newly acquired granddaughter.

"I don't think I can go back down there," she whispered.

He took both her hands in his. "You don't have to child. The castle is yours now. It answers to you. Anything you wish it to do, you need only focus your mind upon it. Soon, you will start to feel it, sense its presence in your mind. We cannot wait for that to happen though. I need you to use that power now to put everything back as it ought to be. Your chief will be home tomorrow and we passed more than a little disturbance on the way to you. Work your way upward from here. Fix things as you see them. It will be easier for now. The archives you can leave to me. I will take care of them, and of my wife's body. When she lies peacefully in her bed, you can call the nearest physician. I can cast a glamour enough to hide her wounds. She will appear to have passed away in her sleep. We can begin the funeral arrangements after that."

For a moment, the girl stared blankly at the ancient wooden table before her. Then the new Cailleach nodded her head.