The Warlock is Missing (5 page)

Authors: Christopher Stasheff

Tags: #sf_fantasy

BOOK: The Warlock is Missing

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"Nay; he doth hang." Puck squinted up at the silver chain. "How didst thou come to so sad a pass, elf?"

Kelly's face reddened. "'Tis a foul brute of a Sassenach landlord hath done me thus, belike with the aid of an Ulster witch! For how else would he ha' known that naught but a

silver chain could hold a leprecohen?"

"And to hold him in it the whiles he did unearth thy crock of gold?" Puck guessed.

" 'Tis a foul thief!" Kelly bawled. " 'Tis a highway robber who doth not hearken to the words an elf doth say!"

"Or who doth attend them too shrewdly, belike," Puck snorted. "Nay, thy kindred are famed in the Faery Kingdom for the oaths they break in spirit, the whiles they heed their letter!"

"Oaths that are forced!" Kelly howled. "Oaths extorted, under pain of prison! How binding could such be?"

"As binding as a silver chain," Magnus pointed out. "Should we not pluck thee from this branch ere we talk longer?"

"Aye, and greatly would I thank yer worship!" Kelly nodded so fiercely that he began a slow rotation again. "Oy vay! I beg thee, good laddie, bring me down!"

Magnus floated up and untied the chain from the limb.

"Here now, gently! Carefully!" Kelly chewed at his beard. "Have a care when ye loose the knot—I've more weight than ye'd suspect!"

"Why, then, I shall support thee," Cordelia declared.

"What,
ye
? Why, how couldst thou, lass? Thou'rt not even near…
Whuh
!"

Magnus pulled the last strand of chain, and the knot fell open. Kelly plummeted, with a shout of terror—all of about an inch. "What! But… How… Eh! But I'm drifting!"

"Down to the ground," Cordelia assured him. "It but took me a moment to gauge thy weight."

"Eh! But a nasty turn ye gave me!" Kelly grumbled. "Why could ye not but say… Um. Aye. Thou didst."

Cordelia nodded brightly. "Now dost thou believe me?"

"Aye." Kelly peered up at her from under shaggy eyebrows, while his head swung up slowly and his feet swung down to touch the turf. "But would ye be tellin' me how ye come to be able to… Oh. Ye're a witch-lass, are ye not, now?"

"Now, or at any time," Cordelia agreed. "And I assure thee, I've borne many loads more weighty than thou."

"I'm believing you," the elf muttered. Then he saw the white head and silver horn behind her, and his eyes rounded. "Eh! But what wondrous beastie is this?"

" 'Tis a unicorn," Cordelia answered.

Kelly spared her a glance of scorn. "And never would I have been guessing it! Eh, but surely!" His gaze fastened to the creature again, rapt with wonder. "Why, 'tis years since I've seen one! Hundreds of years!"

'Two hundreds?" Gregory guessed; but Kelly seemed not to hear him.

He stepped over to the unicorn, reaching up to touch her knee lightly, then probing with a bony finger. "'Tis real enough, truly! Eh! Magic one!"

The unicorn lowered her head, letting Kelly touch her nose.

"Now may all spirits of wood and dell defend ye!" the elf breathed. Finally, he turned back to Cordelia. "But how comes this magic creature to accompany ye?"

"She came to seek us out," Cordelia explained, "for that she'd found a dragon, and needed our aid to subdue it."

"To subdue… ? And ye… ?" The elf's voice came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat, glanced at Puck, then back at the children. "Am I to understand ye did it? Conquered a dragon, I mean. Did ye?"

"Aye, but it did take all of our efforts."

"Oh, did it now!" And Kelly turned away, shaking his head and muttering, "Children! Babes, they are! And a dragon? Naught but babes!"

Then he whirled toward Puck, forefinger stabbing out. "Why, ye scurvy knave! Ye bloody boar of a Sassenach! Ye Tory scoundrel! Would ye, then, let mere babes stand against the foulest of monsters?"

"I would not, but they did insist on giving thee rescue." Puck's eyes narrowed. "Wouldst thou believe I might truly allow these children to come to harm?"

"Believe it? Aye—and proclaim it! Why, ye fevered son of a horse-trader, what e'er possessed thee to hazard these wee, poor babes to such peril?"

"But," Geoffrey said, "we are not…"

"… staying," Puck snapped, cutting him off. "Children, come! Thy good deed is done, and he whom thou hast aided doth denounce us! Turn, and away!" He spun, and strode toward the underbrush.

The children stared at him, taken aback. Then, "Robin! Wait!" Gregory cried, and leaped after him.

"Fare thee well, elf." Cordelia leaped on her broom and sped off after Puck.

"What! Will ye follow blindly where the Sprite of Mischief leads?" Kelly cried. Then his face firmed, and he reached up to yank his top hat more firmly down onto his head. "Nay, I'll not have it!" And he strode off after the children.

Catching up to them, he cried, "Fear not, children! The leprecohen will not abandon ye to the hard heart of the hobgoblin! I shall accompany ye!"

Puck turned on him, face thunderous. "None have asked it of thee, elf! Now I bid thee—bide!"

"And desert them to the mercies of the Sassenach?" Kelly settled himself, glowering. "Nay!"

"Why, thou nail, thou burr, thou thorn! What use canst thou be? How much more wilt thou swell up their hazard?"

"Hazard?" Kelly fairly screeched. "Why, what could be safer than a child with a leprecohen to guard it?"

"A man with his head in a noose, or a lord with his neck stretched across the headsman's block!" Puck took a deep breath. "Why, what could be less use, or more hazardous company, than a leprechaun who doth allow his crock of gold to be stolen?"

Kelly's head snapped back as though he'd been slapped. Then his face reddened, his head drew down between his shoulders, and he reached up to push his hat over to a rakish angle. "Now ye've said it, now ye have said it! Now must I prove the lie ye have given—and I will, by staying with ye till the death!"

"Thy death, or theirs?" Puck said acidly.

"Yers, if Heaven smiles!" Kelly turned to the children. "Fear not—I'll never abandon ye to the dangers of his company!"

"But there
is
no danger in his company!" Gregory cried, and Cordelia said, "None could be safer than in the care of the Puck, good elf."

"Puck or not, his protection's uncertain," Kelly maintained. "Nay, I'll accompany ye, if for naught but to ward ye from
him
!"

Gregory shook his head in confusion. "Wherefore dost thou mistrust him so?"

"Why, because he is English!" Kelly cried, and turned away to the green of the forest.

Chapter 4

"Yon, children." Puck pointed to the right-hand path, where the trail forked.

"Nay! 'Tis fraught with peril!" Kelly jabbed a finger at the left-hand path. "
Yon
is where ye should wend!"

Puck rounded on the leprecohen. "'Ware, elf! Constrain me not to flatten thee!"

"And what would ye be doing then?" Kelly said, glaring up at the bigger elf. "Smite me? Starve me? Banish me beyond the Pale? 'Twas ever the way of the tyrant!"

'Tyrant or not, thou'lt wear webbed feet and hop, an thou dost defy me more!"

"Puck," Cordelia pleaded, "do not…"

"Nay, lass! The elf is not welcome—yet an he will not help, he must not hinder!"

"Do yer worst!" Kelly cried. " 'Twas ever the way of your kind!"

Puck's eyes narrowed, and a fly buzzed by. Kelly's head snapped up, staring; then his hand shot out to snatch the insect out of the air. Witt a glad cry, he popped it toward his mouth —then froze, staring at his closed fist in horror. Slowly, he looked up at Puck.

The Puck grinned wickedly.

Kelly gulped, and plucked up his courage to glare again in defiance—but it wasn't convincing.

"Dost thou have a sudden hunger for flies, then?" Puck crooned. "Nay, fear not—the rest of thy body will change then, to fit it. Do thy shoes pinch? 'Tis naught of concern— only thy feet, spreading into frog's paddles."

With a howl, Kelly threw the fly from him, spreading his fingers and staring at his hand as though to reassure himself it wasn't growing webbing.

"Puck, thou must not!" Cordelia cried.

"Wouldst thou be a bully then?" Geoffrey demanded.

"Aye, assuredly he would," Kelly muttered. " 'Twas ever his way."

Puck's eyes narrowed.

Fess lowered his head to Kelly's level. "I would counsel caution as the better part of valor. Remember that the Puck delights in mischief."

Kelly nearly jumped out of his skin. He leaped about, staring up at the great black horse. "Begorra! Is it a talking horse, then?"

"A pouka." Puck eyed Fess askance. "A spirit horse— though 'tis a spirit of a different sort. It is made of cold iron, elf."

"Nay, surely it cannot be!" Kelly stared up at Fess, paling. "Poor, wee tykes! What greater peril could four children be in?"

"Why, he is our friend!" Gregory shot upward to wrap his arms around Fess's neck. "Our father's closest, and ours!".

Kelly didn't answer; he only cast an apprehensive glance at Puck.

The bigger elf smiled, with malice. "And wouldst thou worry about my poor self, then?"

"Nay, surely not!" Kelly drew himself up, color returning. "With so fell a beast by? And having wormed its way into their affections? Lead onward, elf! 'Tis the two of us must shield them, now!"

Puck grinned, and sauntered away down the right-hand path.

The path widened out into a little clearing, dappled with sunlight in shifting patterns as the shadows of the leaves moved gently in the breeze. The floor of the clearing was strewn with fallen leaves and underbrush, and three stumps, where woodcutters had felled oak trees.

An old woman poked about in the underbrush, muttering to herself. She wore a shabby brown dress and a shawl, with a gray kerchief tied around her head.

The unicorn came to a halt. Magnus hopped down off Fess's back and stepped forward. "What have we here, Robin?"

"A hermit matron, belike," the elf answered.

"I doubt not 'tis a poor beldame who found her friends had died, and none still living in her village gave her welcome," Kelly said. "Thus came she here, to live alone. There are many such."

The old woman looked up at the sound of voices, frowning. "Who comes?"

Magnus waited for Puck to answer, but he didn't hear a word.

"'Tis four bairns!" the crone snapped. "What dost thou here? Begone, now! Shoo!"

Magnus looked down at Puck for advice, but the elf was gone. He looked around, surprised, to find that Kelly had disappeared, too.

Cordelia leaned over to murmur in Magnus's ear, "They do not wish grown-ups to see them."

"Wilt thou not mind thine elders?" the old woman cried. "Begone, I say!" She snatched up a stick and threw it at them.

The unicorn shied, but Magnus reached out and caught the stick, frowning. "We've done naught that ye should scold us so." Then he remembered his manners. "Good day, good-wife."

" 'Goodwife,' is it?" the old woman spat. "Nay, never was I wife, nor would be! How is it even bairns do think a woman must needs marry? Nay, not old Phagia! I had no need of men—nor of any person! And of children least of all! Begone, I say!"

"If I've offended, I regret," Magnus said.

"Do not say so," Geoffrey snapped. "Ye've done naught to give offense!"

"Aye." Cordelia said, puzzled. "Wherefore should she hate us so, at first sight?"

"Dost'a not hear me?" the old woman screeched. "Go!" And she began to wade through the underbrush toward them, catching up sticks to throw.

Without even thinking, Cordelia stared at a stick. It leaped up into the air and flew away.

Phagia watched it go, eyes widening. But they narrowed as she looked down at the children. "So 'tis witch-brats come upon me, eh? Well, I've tricks of my own at hand!"

Suddenly, sticks burst from the floor of the clearing all around the children and shot toward them.

"Catch!" Magnus cried, and the sticks sailed on up over the treetops as all four children thought at them at the same time.

Phagia turned ashen. "What manner of warlock-lings are these, that do catch things with their thoughts? Only witches may do so!"

"Nevertheless, that power's ours, come to us from our father," Magnus explained.

"And wilt thou, then, bedevil a poor old woman with this power of thy sire's?" Phagia spat. "Nay, then! Contend with this!"

Nuts suddenly rained down on them, as though a thousand manic squirrels had jumped in for target practice.

"Ouch! Oh!" Cordelia wrapped her arms around her head and ducked. Her brothers howled with dismay; the nuts hit
hard
.

"We must meet this all as one!" Magnus cried. 'Together, now!
Up
!"

The other children squeezed their eyes shut and joined their thoughts to his, and the rain of nuts backed upward, away, leaving a dome of clear air about them, as though the small missiles were bouncing off a huge, invisible umbrella.

"Wilt thou then band against me?" Phagia snarled. "Nay, I must teach thee manners! Avaunt!"

Flames leaped up about the children, roaring toward them, leaving a wake of char behind.

"Be mindful!" Magnus shouted. "Fire's but the heat of molecules in motion! Slow them, still them! Make them cool!"

All four children stared at the flames, thinking tranquil thoughts, slowing movement, spreading it over a much wider area, transferring energy throughout the floor of the clearing. The day seemed to grow a little warmer, but the fire died.

Phagia stared at the smouldering char, appalled.

Magnus heard Geoffrey's thoughts:
Brother, leave her or subdue her. An we do neither, she shall attack again
.

Magnus nodded.
We might then injure her as we fought back
—
and Mama and Papa would be angered
.

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