The Search for the Red Dragon (5 page)

“I’m not,” Jack insisted, his voice shaking with emotion. “I saw him die. And what’s more, it was my fault. So please, say no more of it, but trust my word—if summoned, Nemo will not come.”

Jamie regarded Jack, his expression inscrutable. “That’s very interesting, Jack. Very interesting indeed. I can see the event had quite an effect on you.”

“The ‘event,’ as you call it, was one of the worst experiences of my life,” said Jack. “How do you think it makes me feel to know that choices I made led to someone’s death?”

“Were they good choices or bad choices?” asked Jamie.

“What kind of question is that?” countered Jack. “How can they have been anything but bad choices? Paddy trusted me, and he died.”

“Paddy?” John said. “You mean Nemo, don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” said Jack. “I meant to say Nemo.”

“Warnie mentioned that you’d had a friend die in the war,” put in Charles, “but he told us you were nowhere near the battle and had nothing to do with it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Jack said. “I promised Paddy’s mother that I’d look after him, and I let him get killed, just as I did Nemo.”

“It isn’t the same,” argued John.

“Sure it is,” said Jack. “They both died because of choices I made. If I had done things differently before that conflict at the Western Front…gone a day earlier, or a day later…anything. If I had done anything differently, Paddy would still be alive. And I’ve had to see his mother’s face every day since the war—loving me for trying, loving me for taking his place in caring for her, but always, always knowing that I failed, and let him die.”

“Everyone makes choices,” said Jamie, “and we have to live with those choices. Did Aven ever tell you what went on between us?”

“No,” said Charles. “But we inferred a great deal from the number of opportunities she took to curse you.”

“Heh.” Jamie chuckled sadly. “I can’t say I blame her. At one time, not really all that long ago, we were very much in love, she and I.”

“Ah, not to give offense,” said John, “but aren’t you considerably older than Aven?”

Jamie squinted at him. “There are more mysteries in the Archipelago than you yet know, young John,” he responded. “Aven is not as young as she appears to be—and at that time, I did not
appear anywhere near as old as I was. But suffice it to say, she was the principal reason I agreed to become a Caretaker.”

“I understand that,” Jack said.

“I think you do,” said Jamie. “But she was not the reason I left.”

“The widow,” offered Charles. “The woman here in London, with the children…Aven mentioned her, and not much more favorably than she did you, I’m afraid.”

Jamie shook his head. “She never understood. There were responsibilities in the Archipelago for which I was not prepared. And there were opportunities for responsibility here that I hoped to embrace. And so I did.”

“And you’ve been happy ever since, I suppose?” asked Charles.

“Would that it were so,” said Jamie. “All I wanted to do was be a father, a mentor, a brother to those five boys. To protect them from the evils of the world. And I didn’t think I could do that from an archipelago of islands at the edges of existence. I thought I could do it if I were right here, with them. But I was wrong.”

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. “You lost your friend Paddy in the war?” he asked Jack, looking up.

“Yes.”

“And you, too, lost someone?” he said to John, who nodded. “And you?” to Charles, who also indicated a loss.

“You see?” Jamie said with a tremor in his voice. “I also lost someone in that war. One of my boys. And I lost another
after
the war, to a drowning that may have even been by his own hand. So what good has it done, that I chose to leave my role as Caretaker, if I could not protect those whom I loved, even from themselves?”

He banged a fist against the mantel, startling the dog. “At
least you three jumped headlong into it and took the battle to one of the prime causes—the Winter King himself. Perhaps if I had done that, if I had stayed, the war might have ended sooner, and I might still have my George. So who am I to judge good choices from bad?

“But,” he finished, turning again to Jack, “I know that you should not carry the guilt that you do for Nemo’s death. Events on that day transpired exactly as they needed to.”

“How can you say that?” said Jack, incredulous.

“Because I know Nemo was very close to Jules Verne,” answered Jamie, “and Jules knew many things that he never shared with any of us. But I know one thing he passed on to Nemo, that I am happy to share with you.

“Nemo knew the exact hour and means of his death. And, knowing this, he had the ability to change events if he so chose. He didn’t. And thus the responsibility for his death was not yours, young Jack. Indeed, it never was.”

Several stiff drinks were poured, and the four men sat in silence as they absorbed what had been said. Laura Glue stirred, and Jamie rose to cover her with a blanket.

“So,” John said finally. “The Compass Rose.”

“Yes,” said Jack. “I’d nearly forgotten.”

John looked at Jamie. “What symbol should we use, since Nemo’s is not likely to do us any good?”

In response, Jamie took a book from one of his shelves and thumbed through to a Greek alphabet. He quickly scanned the letters, then pointed to one. “This one,” he declared, tapping his finger. “It’s the only one I can really be certain of.”

“
Omega
,” noted John. “‘The ending.’”

“Yes,” Jamie said without turning around. “That’s Bert’s little joke.”

“This will summon Bert?” John said in surprise. “That would be delightful. I’d love to see him again.”

“As would I,” said Jamie. “He was always a bit more well-disposed toward my choices than his daughter was. But then, as a parent, I think he would be. Do any of you have children, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Jack looked a little uncomfortable at the question, but he didn’t want to seem rude—not after the personal information Jamie had shared, and especially after the remark about Nemo. “Not thus far,” he admitted. “But the future is long.”

“I have one,” said Charles. “A son, Michael.”

“Three for me,” said John. “My eldest, John, is nine. Michael is second, and then young Christopher.”

Jamie stared at them with a forced smile, then choked back a sob and turned away. “Michael was the name of my boy who drowned,” he said in a small voice. “So—let’s get this job done, and see to it that no more Michaels become Lost Boys, eh?”

Charles handed the Rose to John, who quickly inscribed the mark Jamie had indicated on the parchment. “Now what?”

“Now,” said Jamie, wiping at his eyes with a handkerchief, “we wait and see.”

“Someone give me a hand inside, will you?” Bert cried…

As the evening
deepened into night, the four men busied themselves with small talk and took the opportunity to get to know one another a bit more. They were, after all, members of a very exclusive club. And John, Jack, and Charles found it very liberating to have someone else with whom to discuss the Archipelago. With most others, most recently Jack’s brother Warnie, they had to guard their words carefully. But with Jamie, they were able to broach practically any topic.

For his part, Jamie was mostly interested in their academic careers. He had spent enough of his life as a novelist and playwright that academia was fascinating to him.

“You really worked on the
Oxford English Dictionary
?” Jamie remarked to John. “Extraordinary.”

“I was only there for about a year,” John admitted. “The problem was, having been trained to read the
Geographica
, I had a better than average knack for going right to the root definitions of words, and they started to get suspicious.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Charles said, chortling. “You were actually too qualified for the job. If they’d kept you on, they might be finished by now.”

“Craigie’s close enough, I think,” said John. “But messing about in the Scriptorium with all those little notes crammed into cubbyholes…Not for me, I’m afraid.”

“One of the researchers on the
OED
was briefly considered as a Caretaker back before Bert’s time,” said Jamie. “Murray. His impediment was that while he was a stellar researcher, he lacked imagination. Just didn’t have the spark. Affable enough, but just not cut out for the job.”

“Lucky bastard,” murmured Charles.

“What was that?” John said.

“Who’s for a bite?” said Charles. “I’m getting a bit peckish.”

“As am I,” Jamie agreed. “Charles, why don’t you give me a hand, and we’ll see if we can assemble some sandwiches to keep up our vigor.”

As the two went down the hallway to the kitchen, Laura Glue stretched and yawned. “Hey,” she exclaimed, patting herself. “Where’s my flower?”

“Over here on the desk,” said Jack.

“You changed it,” she said appraisingly. “But I like it. It looks like a circle with feet.”

“Indeed it does,” concurred Jack, noting that since they’d erased the
pi
symbol and added the
omega
, the glowing had ceased. “But I don’t know if it made it prettier to look at.”

Jamie and Charles returned with a silver tray laden with ham, cheese, and thick cuts of dark rye bread.

“Sorry there’s no milder bread in the house,” said Jamie. “You can take the boy out of Scotland, but you can’t make him give up his rye.”

“Not a problem, I assure you,” John said as he started
slathering a piece of bread with a grainy mustard. “In fact, I think I prefer—”

He stopped speaking when he realized that none of the others were listening. Instead, they were all looking at Laura Glue, who was still holding the Compass Rose.

It was faint, and indistinct—but the parchment flower had begun to glow.

“Well,” Jamie said wryly, rubbing his dog’s head, “I think we may be in for more company.”

“Do we need to be down by the river?” asked Charles. “If Bert is coming, won’t he be piloting the
White Dragon
?”

“Or one of the other ships,” Jack agreed. “Perhaps we should be waiting for him there.”

“It’s a pleasant night out,” said John. “There’s no storm, there’s been no murder, no one is chasing us, we have a comfortable study to relax in, a delicious pile of food in front of us, and for company, James Barrie—with whom we can also talk about the
Geographica
and the Archipelago. And you seriously want me to consider leaving all this to go tromping alongside the Thames in the middle of the night, just in case it’ll be easier for Bert to find us? I don’t think so.”

And with that, he plopped down on one of the chairs and began to happily devour a huge ham sandwich.

“See?” Charles said to Jamie. “That’s why
he’s
the Caretaker Principia.”

After having consumed three sandwiches of her own, Laura Glue declared herself to be the Caretaker of the Compass Rose.
Carefully monitoring it for any change, she nestled back into the haunches of the huge, still sleeping Saint Bernard, Aramis.

“His predecessors were Porthos and Athos,” said Jamie. “If I myself make it to a D’Artagnan, I’ll be very contented.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” said Jack as he licked mustard off his fingers. “When we found Laura Glue, she told us that she’d been sent to find you, specifically, not just because you were the Caretaker, but also because you were her grandfather’s greatest enemy. And then, in the park, you said something about an adventure with your best friend—”

“Whom she said later became my enemy. And you’ve surmised they were the same person. Well done, Jack.

“Oddly enough, the reasons we became enemies have a lot to do with Aven as well. Although I must point out a very important distinction between myself and the girl’s grandfather. Just because he no longer regards himself as my friend does not necessarily mean I am no longer his.”

Before Jamie could elaborate, a newspaper struck the shutters, which clattered loudly against the windows of the library. “Hmm,” said Jamie. “The wind has shifted. I wonder what that means?”

“Why?” asked John.

“It’s March,” Charles explained. “The wind never blows in from the west this time of year.”

Wordlessly the four men looked at one another, each of them thinking the same thing.

“Look,” a voice said, soft with wonder. It was Laura Glue, who on speaking woke the dog and was being given an involuntary bath by Aramis’s massive tongue. “Look at my flower.”

There on the desk the Compass Rose had begun to shine as
if it were on fire, the symbols marked upon it swirling with an eldritch glow.

Suddenly a shadow passed over the windows, momentarily blocking the light from the waxing moon above.

Puzzled, Jamie jumped to his feet, as did John.

“Was that a dragon, perhaps?” asked Charles.

“Too slow,” said Jamie. “Maybe it—”

A loud knocking from one of the upper floors interrupted him.

“I think you have a visitor, Jamie,” said Laura Glue sleepily.

In an instant, all four Caretakers were running to the hall and up the stairs. Jamie led the way to the fourth-floor rooms, all of which had been tastefully appointed as bedrooms, save for the last.

“I don’t suppose this is the nursery?” Jack asked with a grin.

“Ha,” Jamie said over his shoulder. “Funny scholar you are. No, this is just a storage room. All I keep in here is an old, ah, wardrobe full of my mother’s furs.”

He flung the door wide, and together they entered the room. It was reasonably bare, save for the aforementioned wardrobe to the left, and an old pram on the right. Directly across from the door stood a double bay window, deep and uncurtained—so they could clearly see the silhouette of the figure, hanging from a rope ladder, who was rapping on the sill.

The strange visitor was short, stoutish, and most tellingly, had a tattered, tall, pointy hat perched precariously on his head.

He knocked again, then called to them through the glass. “Will someone please let me in? I’ve flown here all the way from the Archipelago, and my arms are very tired.”

Charles raised an eyebrow and grinned as they all rushed to the window. “No question now. That’s our man Bert right enough.”

“Someone give me a hand inside, will you?” Bert cried as he clutched at the window with one hand and clung to the ladder with the other. “Else I’ll end up a handsome stain on the cobblestones.”

“Bert, I’m so pleased to see you!” said John as he reached out to grasp his mentor’s hands. “But what the devil are you flying? Is it an airplane of some sort?”

“Better!” Bert said with a gleam in his eye. “It’s an old friend, all dressed up to go a-visiting.”

The friends all leaned out the open windows and looked up at a sight both amazing and familiar. It was an airship: part blimp and part airplane. There was an air-filled balloon above an elaborate carriage that had been fitted with propellers. But what was most startling was the carriage itself, which bore a carved masthead.

It was the
Indigo Dragon
.

Jack let out a whoop, and Charles started clapping Bert on the back so vigorously he nearly lost his hat.

Once they had him safely inside and had anchored the ladder securely around the heavy wardrobe, each of the companions embraced Bert joyfully, and even Jamie gave him a warm, two-handed handshake.

“Old sock, good on you, good on you, I say!” Charles exclaimed happily. “When you said you were hoping to repair her, I never expected anything as grand as this! Well done, Bert!”

“In truth, it was more the craftsmen back on Paralon who did it,” said Bert. “Ordo Maas was able to salvage the dragon itself, but the ship was a loss. Jules had had plans for an airship that Nemo
had always wanted to…ah…” He paused, looking hesitantly at Jamie.

“It’s all right, old chap,” Jamie said. “They told me everything. In fact, we’ve had quite the opportunity to get acquainted, your young Caretakers and I.”

“But how did you get here so quickly?” John asked. “It hasn’t been more than a couple of hours since we summoned you.”

“Quickly?” exclaimed Bert. “I’m only sorry it took so long. I was already on the edge of the Frontier, on my way to Oxford to consult with John about a crisis in the Archipelago, when the sextant aboard the
Indigo Dragon
began to point toward London. That’s when I realized someone had used a Compass Rose. But I scarcely expected to find you at Jamie’s house.”

“That’s a story in and of itself,” said John. “Let’s go downstairs. There’s someone you ought to meet.”

Laura Glue was rolling around on the floor with Aramis when the group came downstairs. Introductions were made, and when she shook hands with Bert, her eyes became the size of saucers.

“The Far Traveler? For really and truly?” She exclaimed. “No one will believe I actually met you.”

“Really?” said Bert, flattered. “And why is that, my dear?”

“Because—whenever you’ve been mentioned, my grandfather shakes his head an’ says your wick isn’t lit. But you don’t look anything like a candle at all.”

John and Jamie let out a burst of laughter, and even Jack chuckled. Charles just smiled grimly and patted Bert on the back. “Look at it this way—at least you didn’t have to share the backseat of a car with her all day.”

“All day?” said John. “It only took us a few hours to get to London.”

“That’s what it seemed like to
you
, maybe,” Charles shot back.

“She’d come from the Archipelago seeking
me
,” said Jamie. “Her grandfather sent her, apparently.”

They quickly told Bert what had taken place during the day, including Laura Glue’s mysterious message, and his features grew very dark. “That’s troubling news indeed,” Bert mused. “I’m as clueless as Jamie about the message—although it was clearly meant for a Caretaker to interpret, and obviously something greater than we know is going on in the Archipelago.”

“The children,” came a small voice. “Someone’s taking all the children.”

It was Laura Glue.

Bert knelt down in front of her. “What do you mean, darling girl? Is that why your grandfather sent you here?”

She nodded, and a single tear fell down her cheek. “Grandfather knew. He knew. He saw them coming in the big boats and knew what was going to happen, so he made me put on Uncle Daedalus’s wings, gave me the flower, and sent me to find Jamie. He said he would know what to do.”

“Who was coming, Laura Glue?” asked John. “Who was your grandfather protecting you from?”

“The men with the clocks in their bellies,” replied Laura Glue, beginning to sob openly.

“Shh, shh, there, there,” Bert told her gently. “It will be all right, my girl. But tell me, these men—how did you know they had clocks in their bellies?”

“Cuz you could hear it,” she said. “When they was coming to get us, you could hear the sound—tick-tock, tick-tock—over and over and over. And they makes noises when they moves, like a principle.”

“Like a car, you mean?” asked Charles.

“I don’t know what that is,” said Laura Glue. “But Grandfather called them the clock men, so…”

“Clockwork men,” said Bert. “This grows worse and worse. They’ve been outlawed in the Archipelago for nearly a decade.”

“You mentioned that you were already headed to see me because of a crisis in the Archipelago,” said John. “That’s not mere coincidence, is it?”

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t,” Bert said somberly. “A great catastrophe has befallen the Archipelago.”

“Is Aven all right?” Jack asked quickly, recalling his recent dreams. “Has she—uh, the queen—been hurt?”