Alcatraz versus the Knights of Crystallia (17 page)

"Yes, well," I continued, "I want to vouch for Bastille's
skill and cleverness.
Without her intervention, both
Gra
ndpa Smedry and I would be dead
.
You
probably would
be too, Draulin.
Let's not forget that you were captured by
the very Librarian that Bastille defeated."

"I saw
you
defeat that Librarian, Lord Smedry," Draulin
said.
"Not my daughter."

"We did it together
,”
I said.
"As part of a plan we came
up with as a team.
You got your sword back only because
Bastille and I retrieved it for you."

"Yes," said the elderly knight.
"But then, that is part of
the problem."

"It is?" I said.
"Wounding Draulin's pride caused that
much trouble?"

Draulin blushed
–
I
felt pleased, though a little
ashamed, for getting such a reaction out of her.

"It's more than that
,”
Big Chin
–
Archedis
–
said.
"Bastille held her mother's sword."

"She didn't have much choice," I said.
"She was trying to
save my life, and that of her mother
–
not
to mention my
father's life by association.
Besides, she only picked it up for
a short time."

"Regardless," Archedis said.
"Bastille's use of the
sword . . . interfered with it.
It is more than tradition that
keeps us from letting others hold our weapons."

"W
ait," I said.
"D
oes this have to do with those c
rystals
in your necks?"

The three knights shared a look.

"
W
e don't discuss these kinds of things with outsiders,"
the elderly knight said.

"I'm not an outsider," I said.
"I'm a Smedry.
Besides, I
know most of it already."
There were three kinds of Crystin
shards
–
the
ones that they made into swords, the ones
they implanted in Crystin necks, and a third one Bastille
hadn't wanted to talk about.

"You bond to those neck crystals," I said, pointing.
"
Y
ou
bond to the swords too, don't you?
Is that what this is all
about?
W
hen Bastille picked up her mother's sword to fight
Kilimanjaro, it interfered with the bond?"

"That's not
a
ll
this is about," the oldest knight said.
"This is much bigger than that.
What Bastille did in fight
ing with her mother's sword showed recklessness
–
just
like losing her own sword did."

"So?" I demanded.

"So?" Draulin asked.
"Young Lord Smedry, we are an
order founded on the principle of keeping people like yourself alive.
The kings, nobility, and particularly Smedrys of
the Free Kingdoms seem to
seek their own deaths with reg
ularity.
In order to protect them, the Knights of Crystallia
must be constant and coolheaded."

"With all due respect, young Lord Smedry," the aged
knight said, "it is our job to counteract your foolhardy
nature, not encourage it.
Bastille is not yet right for
knighthood."

"Look
,”
I said.
"
S
omebody decided that she was worthy
of being a knight.
Maybe we should talk to them?"

"We
are
them," Archedis said.
"We three elevated Bastille
to knighthood six months ago, and are also the ones who
chose her first assignment.
That is why we are the ones
who must face the sad task of stripping her knighthood
from her.
I believe it is time for us to vote.

"B
u
t
–“

"Lord Smedry," Draulin said curtly.
"You have had your
say, and we suffered you.
Have you anything more to say
that w
i
ll
productively
add to this argument?"

They all regarded me.
"Would calling them idiots be
productive?" I asked, turning toward my grandfather.

"Doubtfu
l,”
he said, smiling.
"You could try
'nigglenut,'
since I bet they don't know the meaning.
That probably
wouldn't help much either."

"Then I'm done," I said, feeling even more annoyed than
when I'd first entered the room.

"Draulin, your vote?" the aged knight
–
obviously
in
charge
–
said.

"I vote to strip knighthood from her," Draulin said.
“
And sever her from the Mindstone for one week to remove
her taint from Crystin blades that do not belong to her."

"Archedis?" the elderly knight asked.

"The young Smedry's
speech has moved me," the large-
chinned knight said.
"Perhaps we have been hasty.
I vote to
suspend knighthood, but not remove it.
Bastille's taint of
another's sword must be cleansed, but I believe one week to
be too harsh.
One day should suffice."

I didn't really know what that last part meant, but the
big knight earned a few points in my book for his kindness.

"Then it is up to me," the aged knight said. "I will take
the middle road.
Bastille, we strip your knighthood from
y
ou, but will have another
hearing in one week to reevalu
ate.
You are to be severed from the Mindstone for two days.
Both punishments are effective immediately.
Report to the
chamber of the Mindstone."

I glanced back at Bastille.
Somehow I felt that decision
wasn't in our favor.
Bastille continued to stare straight
ahead, but I could see lines of tension
–
even
fear
–
in
her face.

I won't let this happen!
I thought, enraged.
I gathered
my Talent.
They couldn't take her.
I could stop them.
I'd
show them what it was like when my T
a
lent broke their
swords and –

“
Alcatraz,
lad
,”
Grandpa Smedry said softly.
"Privileges,
such as our ability to visit Crystallia, are retained when they
are not abused.
I believe we have pushed our friends as far
as they will go."

I glanced at him.
Sometimes there was a surprising
depth of wisdom in those eyes of his.

"Let it go,
Al
atraz
,”
he said.
"We'll find another way to
fight this."

The knights had stood and were making their way from
the room, likely eager to get away from my grandfather
and me.
I watched, helpless, as Bastille followed them.
She
shot me a glance as she left and whispered a single word.
"Thanks."

Thanks
,
I thought.
Thanks for what?
For failing?

I was, of course, feeling guilty.
Guilt, you may know, is a
rare emotion that is
much like an elevator made of J
ell-O.
(Both will let you down quite abruptly.)

"Come, lad," Grandpa Smedry said, taking my arm.

"We failed," I said.

"Hardly!
They were re
ady to strip her knighthood com
pletely.
At least we've got a chance for her to get it back.
Y
ou
did well."

“
A chance to get it back," I said, frowning.
"But if the
same people are going to vote again in a week, then what
good have we done?
They'l
l just vote to strip her knight
hood completely."

"
U
nless we show them she deserves
it,” Grandpa said.
"By, say, stopping the Librarians from
getting that treaty
signed and taking over Mokia?"

M
okia was important.
But even if we
could
do what he
said, and even if we
could
get Bastille involved, how was
fighting a political battle going to prove anything to do with
knighthood?

"What's a Mindstone?" I asked as we walked back to the
T
r
ansporter chamber.

"Well
,”
Grandpa Smedry said, "
Y
ou're not supposed to
know about that.
Which, of course, makes it all the more
fun to tell you.
There are three kinds of Crystin shards."

"I know," I interjected.
"They make swords from
one type."

"Right," Grandpa Smedry said.
"Those are special in
that they're very resilient to Oculatory powers and things
like Smedry T
a
lents, which lets the Knights of Crystallia
fight Dark Oculators.
The second type of shards are the
ones in their necks
–
the
Fleshstones, they call them."

"Those give them powers
,”
I said.
"Make them better
soldiers.
But what's the third one?"

"The Mindstone," Grandpa Smedry said.
"It is said to
be a
shard from the Worldspire itself,
a single crystal that
connects all the other Crystin shards.
Even I don't know
for certain what it does, but I think it connects all
Crystin togethe
r
letting them draw upon the strength of
other knights."

"And they're going to cut Bastille off from it," I said.
"Maybe that will be a good thing.
She'll be more her own
person."

Grandpa Smedry eyed me.
"The Mindstone doesn't
make the knights all have a single mind, lad.
It lets them
share skills.
If one of them knows how to do something,
they all get a fraction of a tad of an iota better at that same
thing."

We entered the room with the box, then stepped inside
i
t;
apparently, Grandpa Smedry had left instructions for
the boxes to be swapped every ten minutes until we
returned.

"Grandfather," I said.
"My Talent.
Is it as dangerous as
you said back there?"

He didn't reply.

"In the tomb of Alcatraz
the First," I said as the doors to
our box closed, "the writing
on the walls spoke of the break
ing T
a
lent.
The writing . . . called it the 'Dark T
a
lent' and
implied it had caused the fall of the entire Incarna
civilization."

"Others have held the breaking T
a
lent, lad," Grandpa
Smedry said.
"None of them caused any civilizations to fall!
Though they did knock down a wall or two."