A Hidden Magic (9 page)

Suddenly the woman's brow creased in concern. "But my poor dears," she murmured, "you look exhausted! Come, let me get you some food and drink and prepare a place for you to rest."

Jennifer glanced at Norman, who was
[JS standing quite still, and she wondered if the sorcerer was being quiet out of shyness or if he had forgotten that he no longer had the magic ring and thought he had changed himself to look like an inconspicuous coat rack. In any case, all the questions that needed asking seemed left to her. "But where are we?" she asked in a voice that she felt sounded childishly high-pitched and ugly compared to the other's.

The beautiful woman smiled cheerfully. "Why, you're in my home. And this is as warm and safe a place as you'll find around here."

"But I thought we were in the Valley of Darkness and Despair," Norman said when it became obvious that she wasn't about to clarify this answer.

The woman started to laugh merrily but quickly forced herself to stop. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But does this look like the Valley of Darkness and Despair?"

She pulled two apples from one of the small trees and offered one to each of them. "Why don't you have an apple," she suggested, "and I'll see about getting something more substantial for you to eat from the kitchen. Do make yourselves at home."

She smiled encouragingly and left.

"My goodness!" Jennifer said when they were alone.

"How in the world could we have wandered out of the valley?" Norman asked. He placed his apple on the windowsill and thoughtfully stared out into the clear night.

Jennifer sat on the circular bench surrounding the fountain. She was very hungry, but Norman's sudden moodiness in the face of their obvious good luck disturbed her. Besides, something kept nagging at the edges of her mind.

She twirled her apple on the edge of the fountain in time to the melody the flute was still playing. Something someone had said. Norman? Alexander? No, it was the Old
Witch. "Something about apples," Jennifer thought. "Or was it eating in general?"

She shrugged and picked up the fruit. But it was still wobbling from the last spin she had given it; it slipped through her fingers and into the fountain.

There was a loud hiss as the water bubbled and steamed. Norman turned to face Jennifer as she jumped to her feet. "Norman!" she gasped. "What happened? What does this mean?"

"It means," came the cool, level voice of their beautiful hostess from the doorway, where she had reentered, "that Lesson Three is: Don't believe everything you see."

"Lesson Three?" Jennifer said, looking at her blankly. Then both she and Norman, at the same instant, whispered, "Malveenya!"

The flute music changed into the shrieking of the wind, which suddenly blew around the palace and through the room. As Norman ran to Jennifer's side, the room darkened. The white marble turned to black stone, and the
1)8
crystal chandeliers became heavy wrought-iron lamps. The mirrored ceiling was lost in flickering shadows caused by the jagged flashes of lightning that struck but did not break the skylight.

Jennifer twisted her face away from the stinging strands of hair that the wind blew into her eyes, and saw the flowers and fruit trees wither into dark, stunted scrub brush with burrs and poisonous-looking berries.

Malveenya stood with the wind whipping her golden hair behind her. Beautiful but terrible, she added her harsh laugh to the frantic cawing of the now-black buzzard, screaming in its cramped cage.

"Greetings, travelers," she repeated. "And welcome to my home."

M
ALVEENYA TOOK
a step toward Jennifer and Norman. If anything, she was more beautiful than when they had first seen her. Her eyes blazed, her cheeks were flushed, her brilliant white teeth showed in an evil smile.

"So," she smirked, "you were able to outsmart a giant and a dragon. That doesn't automatically qualify you for any awards for cleverness, you know." Although lightning still lit the room irregularly, the wind had died down and she was able to speak without raising her voice.

She stepped closer and examined Jennifer coolly. "All day," she said. "All day to get here! What a slow and dreary child in every respect!"

She turned her attention to Norman. "And you, you silly old goat, where ever did she pick you up? I'm so disappointed! I have visitors so infrequently and I was truly hoping you'd be interesting. Kreech, stop that noise this instant!"

This last statement was directed at the dark-eyed buzzard who was furiously banging against his cage to the constant high-pitched screaming of a sound very similar to his name. The bird grabbed one of the bars with his hooked beak and gave the cage one last angry rattle before settling down to smooth his plumage. Then he began a lesser series of grumbling noises.

In the instant Malveenya turned her attention away, Jennifer's hand found her pocket. "Now, Norman," she thought. "If ever, now." But already it was too late. The older woman
was again watching her, her blue eyes looking like a winter storm that comes howling down the mountain to overtake the unsuspecting climber—cold, brutal, relentless.

Malveenya was trying to stare her down. If Jennifer had realized this, she would have looked away immediately, but her mind was elsewhere. Things said and things unsaid were beginning to come together. "She doesn't know," Jennifer realized. "She doesn't know that Norman isn't really old and she doesn't know about the jinni in the bottle. She isn't all-powerful. She might be able to see into the cottage because of the magic mirror, and she might know what goes on inside this valley, but she isn't all-powerful." Jennifer repeated this last part several times, as if it were a charm, and removed her hand from the magic bottle. Then she looked away from Malveenya.

"Do you love Prince Alexander?" Malveenya purred.

Love
wasn't the right word—Jennifer
cared
about what happened to the prince, but she wasn't in
love
with him. But it was too much to explain, so she nodded, without looking up. She felt Norman shift position next to her.

"And do you care for this old man, this Norman?"

Malveenya had gotten it backward—Jennifer suddenly realized she
loved
Norman—but again she just nodded. She could sense the sorcerer staring at her but didn't look up until Malveenya asked, "Will you do something for me?"

The enchantress circled the two of them. "I have great power," she said. "But
1
want more. Years ago, the magic wall was built to limit me. If I stay on this side of the wall, I can do anything I want; if I cross to the other side, I have no powers."

This didn't seem like a problem. "So stay here," Jennifer suggested.

"No!" Malveenya cried. "What use is limitless power in this place? I want to live in the outside world!"

"But if you can't pass through the gate without losing your power—"

"Ah! But there's where you come in."

That's what Jennifer had been afraid of.

Malveenya continued. "Magic cannot destroy the wall. But ordinary people—working with picks and shovels and hammers—can. I want you to return to your home and convince the people that the wall is a nuisance. Tell them that the forest is a beautiful park that everyone should enjoy. Tell them there are gigantic trees on which money grows. Tell them anything, but get them to tear down that wall so I can leave!"

"No!" Jennifer gasped. She couldn't begin to guess what Malveenya planned to do if she were free to roam, but judging from the state of things in the Valley of Darkness and Despair, it didn't seem a very good idea. "I couldn't."

Malveenya smiled cheerfully. "Do you love Prince Alexander?" she asked again. "Do you love Norman? What if something terrible hap
pened to them? Have a good night's sleep while you think about it."

She glided to the cage from which the buzzard, Kreech, glared at her suspiciously with half-lowered eyelids. He took a quick step back and resumed his terrible cries as the enchantress opened the door. But when she pulled back her billowing sleeve and stuck her arm in the cage, he obediently and gently stepped onto her arm and let himself be pulled out.

Her eyes never wavering from Jennifer and Norman, Malveenya set the buzzard on the floor, then took a step back.

Immediately the large bird began to grow larger. He beat his short, broad wings helplessly as his body became taller and wider and his feathers turned to flapping black cloth. The shape of his face changed slightly and in no time at all they stood facing a man. Admittedly, he still had the look of a bird of prey—the constantly moving eyes were fierce and piercing, the nose was sharp and beaklike, and
us
the hands looked like talons. But he was still a man.

This was no illusion, Jennifer and Norman realized, no trick caused by a magic ring. Kreech had really been changed into a fearsome human.

Obviously this sort of thing had happened to Kreech before, and obviously he didn't like it at all. He stood for several seconds twitching his wingless shoulders and shifting his weight from one foot to the other; then he threw back his head and gave a wild screech. This was part declaration of freedom, part defiance, but mostly it was for show because he knew that—although out of the cage—he wasn't really free and that Malveenya—if she decided to—could easily shake all the defiance out of him.

"Kreech, would you be good enough to show our guests to their quarters?" Malveenya said sweetly. "Private accommodations, of course." She never would have trusted Kreech out of her sight in his bird form, but knew
that he wouldn't try to escape now. Freedom to him didn't include being earthbound; it meant the ability to fly and soar and dive with his own kind.

Norman glanced at the sword Kreech wore at his side. "How good a swordsman could a bird possibly be?" he wondered, but decided he wasn't really that curious.

Kreech stepped between the two prisoners and gripped Norman's left arm and Jennifer's right with strong, clawlike hands.

They started toward a narrow, dimly lit hall that wound steeply downward, and Norman mentally kicked himself for not having shifted places with Jennifer before the buzzard-man grabbed them. She had the magic bottle in her right pocket, so even though they were now out of Malveenya's sight, she couldn't get it out.

The hall became even narrower and they both hunched their shoulders, shuddering at the thought of brushing against the rough walls, coated with spiderwebs.

Norman tried to slow down and face Kreech, but found himself pulled along at the same rapid pace. "Wait," he said. "
1
have something to say to you."

"Quiet!" the buzzard-man said. His voice sounded so much like a caw, it took Norman a few seconds to realize that Kreech had spoken a human word. That, at least, was encouraging.

"You're a prisoner, too," he said. "We can help each other."

"Can't," Kreech answered.

"Look," Norman said. "She keeps you in a cage and she turns you into anything she pleases. If we work together, we can beat her."

Kreech remained silent.

Norman twisted around to look into his captor's face. The dark eyes reflected the torch flames but were dull and unresponsive. Kreech might have the body of a man, Norman decided, but the mind was still that of a buzzard. The sorcerer doubted he could say anything that would reach him. He
glanced at Jennifer, making movements with his head in the general direction of her pocket.

"Sir, you're hurting my arm," she said.

Kreech didn't answer or loosen his grip.

"Could you hold a little less tightly, please?"

Still no answer.

"Or could you switch arms for a while:

Jennifer looked hopelessly at Norman. At the speed they were being forced down the hall, she didn't dare try to get at the bottle with her left hand for fear she'd drop it.

Norman tried again. "I'm a sorcerer, Kreech," he admitted. "If you let us go, I can turn you back into a bird and you'll be free." Actually, he knew that was way beyond his powers, but he was desperate to get Kreech's attention. Kreech wasn't listening.

They stopped in front of a thick wooden door with a tiny, barred window. Kreech dropped Norman's arm to pull it open, then he jerked his head inside.

"One second," Norman started.

Kreech gave a wordless scream of rage as his hand gripped the sorcerer and spun him around and into the cell. Then he slammed the
door shut
and pulled Jennifer down the hall.

After a long, silent walk they came to another door. Kreech pushed her into the small, windowless cell. She heard the loud click of the lock, then the rustling of his robes as he shook himself and started back the way he had come.

Jennifer didn't dare use the magic bottle on her own. After Kreech had been gone awhile, she started calling the sorcerer's name, but their cells were too far apart. Finally she sank to the floor. "Norman, Norman," she whispered. "Do you have a plan? Tell me what to do."

But, of course, there was no answer.

S
OMEHOW JENNIFER HAD
fallen asleep. She woke up suddenly when Kreech flung open the door and jerked his head for her to follow.

She stood up and tried to drive the grogginess from her mind.

"Quick!" Kreech cawed, and before she could move toward his other side, he again had his long, talonlike fingers wrapped around her right arm.

They walked swiftly to where they had left Norman. Kreech again said, "Quick!" in his rasping voice.

Norman looked grim and tired and Jennifer hoped he had been able to form a plan, for she hadn't. But as soon as he started to say, "You can't give in," Kreech cried, "Quiet!" and gave each of them a rough shake. They walked in silence the rest of the way back up to the main entry hall.

Malveenya was waiting for them. "Good morning, good morning," she called in a pleasant voice. "I do hope your rooms were adequate. So few guests drop by these days."

She smiled brightly and circled the three of them.

"Are all the cobwebs gone from your little mind?" she asked Jennifer. "Are you in the mood for a little reunion?"