Quest for the King Read online

  THE ARCHIVES OF ANTHROPOS

  Cover illustration by Vic Mitchell

  Interior illustrations by Jack Stockman

  To my grandchildren, Susan, Bethany, Dana, Meghan, Kirsty, John,

  Robin, David, Brennan, Catlyn, Conlon

  I The Disappearing Newlyweds 9

  2 Torn from Lion Rock 19

  3 The Keys to Magic 34

  4 The Three Philosophers 48

  5 Kurt and the Column of Smoke 64

  6 Mary Hangs On 76

  7 A Growing Madness 87

  8 The Spirit in the Night 102

  9 A Sort of Sanctuary 115

  10 Shadows in the Temple 130

  11 Peril at the Waterfall 144

  12 Yearning for Terror 155

  13 Prisoners of the Crown 166

  14 King Tobah Khukah 180

  15 The Ancestral Curse 191

  16 The World in the Woods 201

  17 Disguised by Surprise 212

  18 Danger in the Woods 223

  19 The Cave in the Cleft 236

  20 The King 247

  21 The Return of the Queen 260

  22 Under the Cloak of Secrecy 272

  23 Against the Temple 283

  24 Over the River and Through the Woods 299

  25 A Helping of Humble Pie 313

  Appendix: How I Came to Write the Archives of Anthropos 317

  So this was it. Finis! The wedding was actually taking place.

  It was very unfair. It should never have happened. Think of itmarried at the age of fifty-two for the first time to a lady who looked like somebody's grandmother. They said she was only fifty-only, if you please!

  Mary had needed, and still needed, Uncle John for herself. She lived with him, along with her three cousins, Wesley, Lisa and Kurt. They had their own mother and father-and were with them now on a visit to Singapore-but Mary had no one. Mary had always felt she had an extra claim on Uncle John. She could have managed if she could only have hung on to him. But now this. Mary's thoughts were not the kind you were supposed to have in church, especially in an Anglican church. But then, people shouldn't many when they're positively ancient. Mary kicked the kneeling stool in front of her.

  She sat in the front pew of Saint Andrew's Church on Nathan Road in Kowloon. Mrs. Choi sat next to her, smiling at her from time to time. Mary did not smile back. The vicar was yelling (yelling things you should say, not yell, at weddings). The vicar yelled because typhoon winds howled and screamed round the church and torrential rain beat against the windows. "The worst in seventeen years," a TV commentator had called the typhoon. All ferry services had been discontinued. Before the typhoon everyone had said the wedding was going to be lovely, but no one was saying that any longer. "They should have canceled the whole thing, really they should. This is ridiculous! No wonder there's almost no one here!" Mary heard one man grumble.

  Each time she had tried to explain to Uncle John about bachelors and marriage, he had laughed and teased her. Sometimes he had looked solemn and said, "But darling, I know I could wait until you're a little older. But that wouldn't be fair to you. I mean, you wouldn't want to many someone old enough to be your great-grandfather, now would you? You need someone younger."

  The one compensation had been that she would go to Hong Kong with him. That, at least, had seemed exciting-in anticipation. Right now it was misery. She had expected the others to be there-her cousins, Wesley, Lisa and Kurt, and her Uncle and Aunt Friesen. Wesley was two years older than Lisa. Kurt was the youngest of the three but still a year older than Mary. She had never met their parents, her uncle and aunt, and had only talked to them occasionally on the telephone. Wesley, Lisa and Kurt had flown to be with their parents for a couple of weeks in Kuala Lumpur. (Their parents belonged to the Canadian Diplomatic Service and kept being moved to "trouble spots" around the globe.)

  Even though she was a little jealous of her cousins, they did share the bond of some very wonderful adventures in Anthropos, and they would have been a comfort at the wedding. At least that had been the plan-until the typhoon. Now the Friesens were stuck in Singapore, and she had to go through this business on her own. And, to add to it all, ever since the Eleanor person had arrived in Hong Kong, Uncle John had been acting like a little kid half the time, and rushing round distractedly the other half. He smiled all the time and seemed to find quite ordinary things enchanting. The glow seemed to have to do with the old woman who had turned up-the great Eleanor. Mary felt lost, abandoned.

  She admitted, rather grudgingly, that the Eleanor person seemed to be all right. Not a real grandmother-no kids, no grandkids. Old of course, though with a grandmotherly kind of oldness. She was not in any sense with it. Neither she nor even Uncle John knew anything about power. Or did they? What was the mysterious aura that rested on both of them? It was very hard to tell. Power was not on them in the way dark power was. It was, Mary decided, somehow different. What's more, they were not the sort of people you could talk to about things like that. They were too respectable, too square. And now it would never be possible to tell Uncle John. Bitterness flooded her mind. It was a long-standing bitterness that had never thoroughly been resolved.

  From the age of three she had stayed in Toronto with a mother who was not her real mother, and who had a series of men living with her-"uncles." One of them had done something to Mary that Mary did not like to think about. If anyone knew about it they would hate her, despise her-at least that's how she felt. She groped back in her memory to vague feelings about her real mother. Everything in that area of her memory banks seemed misty, ill-defined. There were hor rible bits of memory, which she might have dreamed, or which might be true, though it hardly seemed possible. All she knew was that her mother was dead. If only she could belong to real parents, her very own parents. Couldn't Uncle John adopt her? What if she could get the power to make him do so!

  Had it not been for the typhoon, Uncle John's getting married might have been just about bearable, but the typhoon had turned a bad thing into a major catastrophe. All flights into Hong Kong had been canceled. A complete stranger had to give the Eleanor person away, someone Mary didn't know. In fact Mary didn't know anyone except Uncle John and Mrs. Choi, whom she knew just a little bit. The church was largely empty, and what guests there were seemed old to Mary. "Old and wet," Mary said to herself, shivering a little and sitting a bit closer to Mrs. Choi, wishing the wind would stop howling. Hong Kong was supposed to be hot, wasn't it? It had been hot-even muggy-when they arrived, but gradually, as the rain shrieked horizontally across the city, the temperature had fallen.

  Her mind went back to Winnipeg and to the fun she enjoyed at the witches' club. Two of the boys told her they went to a large Bible church there. "But they don't have power like we do," they said. Power? Was that what had attracted her? She often wondered. She remembered overhearing a conversation between her Uncle John and a school social worker. Her retentive memory had registered every word.

  "In answer to your question-I really don't know. There are the most bizarre rumors circulating in the family about her biological mother. Indeed they are firmly convinced that her great-grandmother put the story out that she herself was a powerful sorceress."

  The conversation had continued for some time, but since Mary should not have been listening, and had heard Uncle John beginning to cross the floor just then, she crept around a corner quickly. What was it that had so powerfully drawn her to the coven? Lisa had told her she was `just being mad at Uncle John for getting married." Why had she gone back? It made no sense. She remembered the joy with which she had been reunited with Gaal earlier that year, and the powerful hold the witch had over her on her visit to Anthropos. Yet she also knew she could not have resisted the school club. There w
as a magnetism about it that had pulled her as though she were a puppet on a string. Then once she had experienced in the real world the physical sensation of power flowing into her own body, she knew where she really belonged.

  At last the ceremony in St. Andrew's Church came to an end, and Mary and Mrs. Choi followed the bridal couple as they left. Once in the open, wind and rain whipped and pelted them mercilessly, and the large umbrella the chauffeur held for them turned inside out. The rain lashed Mary and Mrs. Choi pitilessly as they struggled to get into a second white limousine. Soon it began to follow the one with the bridal couple, as it wound down to the exit to Nathan Road.

  The air conditioning inside the limousine was turned up fully. It made her shiver and sneeze. Mrs. Choi said, "It was a lovely wedding, and isn't this car beautiful! There's even a bar and a television!"

  Both limos nosed their way along Nathan Road, the bridal limousine leading the way, splashing through the water covering the partly flooded roadway. They followed it toward the harbor as far as Harphong Road, where they turned right, working their way beneath the overpass, then via Canton Road and Peking Road to the entrance of the Ramada Renaissance Hotel. Throughout the short journey Mary sat rehearsing in her mind what she had been told to do when they reached the hotel.

  "I have to open the limousine door quick. I mustn't wait for the doorman to do it unless he's already there. I have to go to their limousine and say, `It was simply wonderful! You both looked great!' " She sighed. "Then I have to curtsey-and `not be in their way' or be a nuisance and bother them." Her face clouded. "I wish it didn't have to be like this."

  They were pulling up to the doorway, and it was there in the gloomy hotel entranceway that what had seemed like a bad dream turned into a nightmare.

  Mary hopped out of the limo before the doorman reached it, her eyes on the limousine in front of them. Embarrassed and a little nervous, she hurried to greet Uncle John and his bride, just as she had rehearsed in her mind.

  The uniformed chauffeur opened the limousine door, and then simply stared inside the car, his mouth wide open and his eyes dark with bewildered consternation. Mary stood beside him. Nobody was getting out of the limo. What was the chauffeur staring at? Where were the newlyweds? Why weren't they getting out? She pushed in front of him to stare into the car.

  Nobody was getting out because there was nobody inside to get out. Uncle John and Mary's new Aunt Eleanor were nowhere to be seen.

  "They could not, could not ... there was no way they could have gotten out along the way," the chauffeur, who had turned to the two hotel doormen, protested in English. "No way! No way! We didn't stop or even slow down!" He looked round defiantly as though expecting someone to contradict him. The doormen and a bellboy advanced and then stopped, looking uncertain. Didn't limousines usually have guests inside them?

  Mrs. Choi and their own driver joined the little group. Excited chatter in Cantonese began to echo amid the muted sounds of the storm and the blaring of horns and the hollow echo of cars driving in an enclosed space. Everyone around the hotel doorway seemed to be talking at once. Mary tugged at Mrs. Choi's coat several times. "What are they saying, Mrs. Choi?" she asked repeatedly. "Mrs. Choi, please tell me. What's happened to Uncle John? Do they know?"

  Mrs. Choi looked very worried. "It makes no sense." She shook her head and turned to address Mary. "I was watching the limousine all the way here. I know they didn't get out. They couldn't have. And their chauffeur said the moment he got inside the car he had locked all the doors from his control panel."

  Suddenly, Mary was very frightened. "You mean, you mean ... But, Mrs. Choi, they can't just have disappeared ... " Her voice trailed into silence as an unhappy thought gripped her. It was a memory of the way in which she herself had been whisked into the land of Anthropos, into another place and another time, and how many strange adventures had befallen her there over a period of two years in Anthropos time. It was then that she had learned to trust Gaal. But it was one thing to disappear yourself, and quite another to have people disappear on you and leave you all alone in Hong Kong.

  And there was something else. She had joined "the other side." Anthropos was the last thing she wanted just then. She remembered now-why had she forgotten?-that Uncle John had said he had one more trip to make to Anthropos. Her shoulders drooped and she began to feel a little dizzy. What good was her power now? Unlessunless she could go after him by using her real power. But right then she was too frightened to know what to do. She was not sure whether she wanted to cry or to be sick.

  "I think I'm going to be sick," she finally said.

  Mrs. Choi took charge briskly. In no time she had Mary back into her hotel room in bed, and was making her hot Chinese tea from the loaded tray each hotel room provided. But Mary did not drink any of the tea. Nor did she want to stay in bed. She really did not know what she wanted to do. She stared at the television, but it had no appeal. She no longer felt sick, and was doing her best not to cry.

  Mrs. Choi had picked up the telephone and was talking in Chinese. There were several pauses, then suddenly she switched to English. "My name is Mrs. Choi. I am with Mary in the Ramada Renaissance hotel in Hong Kong. Mr. Friesen? ... He is not there? ... Pleasewho is speaking? ... Wesley? ... I think Mary would like to talk to you."

  Eagerly, Mary grabbed the phone from Mrs. Choi.

  Wesley held the telephone in their hotel room, a bewildered look on his face. "It's Mary-I think-an' she won't stop crying. She's sobbing her heart out. Something's happened." He spoke into the telephone again. "Mary-what is the matter?"

  Lisa whispered to Kurt, "There's a phone in the bathroom. I'll grab that-an' you get the one in your bedroom."

  Wesley continued to listen. After a few minutes, he said, "That's better, Mary. Now look, just don't worry, eh? They're sure to turn up. They wouldn't leave you in a hotel room and abandon you. You know Uncle John as well as I do. He wouldn't do that." Then in a startled voice, "What did you say?"

  Lisa's voice came through the bathroom phone. "Mary, what makes you think they've gone to Anthropos? Look, do stop crying. I can't make out what you're trying to say. An' please-you mustn't call her `that old woman.' She's nice, Mary."

  For a few moments there was confusion, no one having a clear idea of what Mary was saying. Finally both Kurt and Wesley had it straight. Wesley said, "O.K, Mary, I think we have it. You say they disappeared right out of the bridal car, and that it didn't stop anywhere. I guess you're right. They must have gone to Anthropos.

  "Now look. Stop worrying. We'll probably be able to fly there first thing tomorrow. Cathay Pacific says we're to be ready to fly. Mebbe there's some way we could get there ourselves-to Anthropos, I mean."

  Kurt's voice interrupted him. "Mary, its no use talking to Mum and Dad. Dad won't let us say anything about Anthropos. He gets mad whenever we do. He says the subject is taboo, an' we mustn't even talk among ourselves about it. We do, of course. But cheer up. We're coming tomorrow!"

  They hung up eventually and gathered in the small entrance lounge to the suite. Wesley said, "What can we do?"

  "Nothing, as far as I can see," Lisa complained. "I wish she wouldn't cry so much."

  "Oh, Lisa-you must admit she doesn't often. An' it must be no fun being all alone in a typhoon," Kurt protested.

  "Mrs. Choi's with her."

  "O.K, O.K, you two!" interrupted Wesley. "Let's not start quarrelling again. Mebbe there is some way we can get to Anthropos. But I can't think of any right now. We'll have to play it by ear."

  For a while they sat with worried frowns on their faces. Finally Kurt said, "If they really have gone to Anthropos, mebbe we'll go too."

  Wesley shook his head. "How would we get there? In any case, he goes to a different time in Anthropos history than we do."

  Lisa said slowly, "Oh, I don't know, Wes. If Gaal arranges the trips I don't see any reason why he can't send us, or him, anywhere he wants to."

  Wesley's voice got squeaky, a sign that he was irr
itated. "Yes, yes, yes! But how? When Uncle John went the second time he could choose whether to go or not."

  Kurt shook his head. "He had no choice the first time. He opened a door-and hey, presto!-there he was in some sort of never-never land. An' even the second time he wouldn't have had a choice if Gaal hadn't provided him with one. All that happened was he realized the opportunity had presented itself."

  "O.K, clever sticks! So how do we follow him there?"

  Kurt shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see how we can unless Gaal gives us the chance. If we're to go, then he will."

  "I'd like to get to go," Lisa said, longingly.

  Wesley drew in a deep breath. "Well, it's a worry. Dad will go crazy. He'll search Hong Kong by telephone, then start on the various islands. I wouldn't put it past him to go to Macau, or even into mainland China."

  Lisa grinned. "Just don't any of us say Anthropos!"

  Kurt said, "Yes, but Mary will."

  "Oh, shucks. You're right. There'll be no stopping her. I can just hear the two of them-Dad and Mary-hard at it right now!"

  There was another long pause. Then Kurt said something that proved prophetic. "I have the horrid feeling that something pretty frightful-or mebbe merely frightening-is going to happen, an' we'll just be whisked into Anthropos whether we like it or not."

  The storm abated during the night, and by morning the Friesens were able to fly to Hong Kong. Aunt Jane Friesen called from the hotel lobby as soon as they arrived.

  "Hello! Is that Mary? This is your Aunt Jane-you know-Lisa's mother. We're here in the hotel. Just got in. Darling, we've been so worried about you! How are you, dear?"

  "Oh, hi! I'm O.K., thanks."

  "Did they come back?"

  "You mean Uncle John? No, Aunt Jane."

  "Oh, you poor dear! What a nightmare you've had! Never mind, darling, we're here now. We're just going to the restaurant for lunch. Would you like to join us?"

  "Aunt Jane, are the kids with you?"