Julie Leung - Mice of the Round Table #3: Merlins Last Quest

Looking back on it, when they were old,

they did not remember that in this year it had ever rained or frozen.

The four seasons were coloured like the edge of a rose petal for them.

T.H. White, The Once and Future King

H oratio Eavesdrip, twelfth of his name, was an excellent listener. With ears twice the size of his head, and as delicate as fairy wings, very little escaped the long-eared bats keen hearing. Sometimes, if he hung at a certain angle and swiveled his ears just so, the mountains had much to tell him. Voices could travel long distances through the vast echoing cavescarrying their secrets.

This was especially true when those voices were raised in anger.

The mountains had become crowded as of late, with strangely dressed creatures roaming the upper chambers at all hours. Already, Horatio had gleaned that a witch of great power had moved in, making her lair in the abandoned Two-Legger mines. When the bat perched in his usual position, hanging by his toes in a crevice, it did not take long for her words to trickle down from high above.

My spies tell me your plots have unraveled fast, contrary to what youve reported in your larks home, she chastised. Camelot is weakened, but not enough. We need more magic. Its time for you to come back.

Another voice answered, this one more muddled, as if someone was trying to speak through water. I think... found something... may help. Merlins...

Horatio tried to twist his ear closer to the walls as the words faded in and out.

Forget Excalibur for now. The boy must come to us on his own terms. I have something bigger and more powerful in my sights. Bring me Merlins scrolls.

The other voice became indistinct. As he strained to catch the next words, a sharp, high-pitched ringing started, and Horatio clamped his ears down in pain. Somewhere high above, a trumpet had sounded in the witchs room.

We will discuss when you return, Red. Someone is listening in.

Horatio had been discovered! If the witch was using black magic to protect her conversation, it must be worth something.

The king should know.

Horatio unfurled to fly away deeper into the cave, back to his colony. But as he took off, something caught his wing tip, yanking him back. Black, smoky tendrils had clamped down on his thumb like pincers. He flapped helplessly in place.

I know youre there. The witchs singsongy voice came from right next to Horatios ear, wily and cruel. Tell me, little spy, where are you?

Horatio could feel the witchs magic worm its way into his mind, eating away at his thoughts. If she found out what he knew, all that he knew, it would endanger his entire colonyperhaps even all of Britain. He couldnt let that happen.

He wrenched out of the spells grasp at the last moment. The bat flew away as fast as he could, through dark passages only a small creature could navigate.

Horatio was out of breath by the time he made it back to his colonys cave. He flew straight for the kings fine hanging stone. King Mir was settling in for his sleep, already upside down with his wings wrapped around him. Dawn was just around the corner.

Flee! We must flee! Horatios words came out in alarmed hiccups. He flitted back and forth, waking much of the rest of the colony.

Slow down, Horatio, quit flapping around. Its nearly bedtime. King Mir yawned and waved a dismissive wing at his chief listener.

My liege, the situation is more dire than wed thought. Horatio panted as his feet scraped against a crag. Flipping himself upside down, he was now eye to eye with his king. We must wake the dragon from its slumber!

R aindrops lashed mouse-squire Calib Christophers face, stinging like sharp nettles against his fur. Bolts of lightning ripped across the sky, illuminating the trees in stark black-and-white silhouettes.

Its no use! Valentina Stormbeak yelled over the accompanying thunder. We cant fly on in this storm.

Calib clutched Valentinas wings tighter as a gust of wind threatened to throw him off the crows back. He squinted into the dark, seeking any sign of Cecily von Mandrake and her kidnapper, Sir Percival Vole. What muddy tracks Calib had detected earlier were now washed away.

Well never find them if we stop now! Calib shouted back. Theyve had at least an hours head start!

His chest squeezed together like a tightening noose. None of this would have happened if it werent for his own outstanding stupidity. His mistakes buzzed inside his head, stinging like hornets.

He, Calib Christopher, last of a line of brave knights and leaders, had unwittingly allowed Camelots most dangerous traitor back into the castle when it was most vulnerable.

Not only had Calib let the enemy infiltrate the castle, he had also accidentally divulged Camelots greatest secret to him: what the mice knew as the Goldenwood Throne was actually a legendary treasure called the Grail.

It had been entrusted to his family by Merlin all these years, its secret hidden in the designs of the Christopher crest. And now the Grail had fallen into the clutches of a Saxon betrayer, along with Calibs best friend, Cecily. Calibs stomach soured at the very thought.

He had to make things right again.

He had to defeat Sir Percival Vole, take back the Grail, and rescue Cecily.

If only this storm would let them catch up to the villain.

Valentina, the brave Darkling crow who had volunteered to fly Calib in his pursuit, was losing her battle against the gusting wind.

Its getting dangerous, she warned again. We need to fly back to Camelot and wait out the storm!

Lets keep going! he insisted. As long as he drew breath, he would hunt Sir Percival down. I dont want to lose any more time than

Calibs world turned a blinding white.

Excruciating pain from the hottest heat hed ever felt surged through his body. An acrid smell filled his sensitive nose His fur was burning! But there was nothing to be done. Mouse and crow tumbled from the sky, plummeting out of control.

The wind screamed in Calibs ears, or perhaps it was him who was screaming.

Then suddenly, it didnt matter, for there was no sound at all.

Calibs eyes blinked open. A chandelier twinkled above him, the tiny candle nubs melted by flame into strange shapes.

Flame. Burning. Falling!

Calib sat straight up, jolted by the rush of painful memories. How had he managed to make it back to Camelot?

Whoa, there, Calib! Two sets of firm paws held him back down. Steady there!

His breath came in short jabs, and fellow mouse-squires Devrin Savortooth and Warren Clipping pushed him back toward his pillowbut not before Calib caught a glimpse of empty beds lined up in rows against the wall.

He was in the castle infirmary. Most animals had recovered from the white fever that had ravaged the castle weeks ago. The air felt stuffy with the promise of an early summer day. It made his head throb, as though one of Sister Ysabels fluttery wimples had been wrapped around his head.