The Warlock Rock (13 page)

"Then doth he drink thy blood," Magnus told her, his face grim. " Tis therefore thou art so listless; 'tis therefore thou hast those marks upon thy throat."

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Nanraised a hand, fumbling toward her neck. "These… they are but…" Her voice trailed off in confusion.

"He is a vampire," Cordelia explained, more gently. "He doth keep thee to bleed thee for his supper." Nanfrowned. "Oh. Doth he truly so?"

"I assure thee that he doth," Cordelia said, shocked. "Dost thou care naught?" Nan's gaze strayed. "I think I do not. Upon a time, I might have—yet I do not now."

"Oh, but thou must!" Cordelia cried. "Come away with us! We may still save thee!"

"Save me?"Nan frowned, blinking. "From what?"

"From becoming thyself a vampire! An he doth continue to drain thee, thou shalt become like to him!"

"Oh."Nan pursed her lips, considering. "Is that so bad?"

"Why, 'tis horrible!" Cordelia insisted. "Wouldst thou do to another what he hath done to thee? Wouldst thou take the very life from another's veins?"

Nanconcentrated, thinking it over…

"Do not let it trouble thee overlong," Geoffrey said, with sarcasm. "Come, wilt thou be good or evil? 'Tis as simple as that."

Nanblinked, thoroughly confused now, and Cordelia glared at her brother.

"An she truly careth naught," Gregory mused, "we have but to pose the question in another fashion…Nan , why not come with us?"

"Aye!" Cordelia added. "Wherefore not ?"

Nan's brow creased in concentration. Then, finally, her face smoothed again. "Wherefore not, indeed?" She actually managed a slight smile as she lifted a hand. Magnus let her go, and stepped back—but her hand came on up to touch his. "Where wilt thou go?"

"Why, to the nearest village," he said, with immense relief. "Geoffrey, lead!" Geoffrey didn't need persuading. He turned away, drawing his sword, and led them back along the path. Magnus followed, propping upNan , with Cordelia and Gregory behind him and Fess bringing up the rear.

Geoffrey led them around a curve and under a huge old tree. As they neared it, Magnus pulled back.

"Hold! There is summat about this oak that…"

A shadow stirred within shadows, detached itself, and stepped toward them, smiling. His clothes were black, and skintight; his face was white as paint, his eyes shadowed into points, and his lips very, very red. "Kiss," he said, reaching for Cordelia. "Kiss. Kiss."
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She struck his hand away, stepping back, and Geoffrey leaped between them, stabbing upward at the vampire, then riposting—but the vampire only looked down at his shirt-front, nettled. "Thou hast ripped my cloth."

Geoffrey stared. There was no spreading stain, no blood on his sword. The vampire grinned at his discomfiture, showing pointed fangs. "Nay, steel shall not harm me—and I hunger. An thou wilt not give me to drink, then return my lass to me." He reached forNan .

"Avaunt!" Magnus struck his arm down, in spite of the crawling revulsion within him. "She is no thing of thine, but a woman sole in her own right, and no man's chattel."

"Thou knowest not of what thou speakest, boy," the vampire sneered. "Tell,Nan —whose lass art thou?"

"Why, thine."Nan tried to step toward him, but Magnus held her back. "Lay off!" she cried, struggling against his arm.

"By what right dost thou keep her, when she doth desire to go?" the vampire demanded.

"By what right dost thou keep her, when she would desire to go were she recovered of her senses?" Gregory demanded.

"What sprat is this?" the vampire snarled. "Be gone, mere inconvenience!" He pounced, claws reaching for Gregory.

Geoffrey shouted and leaped at him again, but this time the vampire turned, catching him and lifting him toward his mouth. "Tender," he growled, "succulent." Magnus let go ofNan and hurtled into the vampire, knocking Geoffrey out of his grasp. The pale man went flying—and kept flying, as his cape spread out into wings and all of him shrank into a bat. He wheeled about in the air, streaking back toward Gregory.

"Why, 'tis a birdbrain!" Geoffrey laughed. "Come, hen! What fowl prank wilt thou play next? O bird absurd!"

The bat wheeled, its eyes glowing fire, and pounced— but Geoffrey dodged behind Fess. The bat didn't even try to follow—it sailed straight at Fess's neck, needle-fangs glinting—and striking down through horsehair with a resounding clang as they met Fess's metal neck. It spun toward the ground, stunned, and just barely managed to pull out of its nosedive and start flapping up. But that was long enough for Magnus to find a long stick. "One bad bat doth deserve another," he grunted, and swung.

The club cracked into the vampire. He lurched and went spiralling down to the dirt, out cold. The children stood transfixed.

ThenNan gave a wordless cry and reached out toward the fallen creature. Geoffrey leaped to block her. "Nay! Thou art freed of him now, and shalt remain so!"
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"It will be a while before she ceases to crave his presence," Fess advised him. Geoffrey nodded, caughtNan by the wrists, and pulled her away.

"What now?" Cordelia demanded. "We dare not leave him so, or he will revive and begin his depredations anew."

"Why, we have one who doth await the occasion," Gregory answered. "Magnus, summon." Magnus straightened, gaining a smile and calling out, "Wee Folk! We have done what we can! Now come and aid!"

"Why, that will we, and right gladly!" The elves stepped out of the long grass all around. "We had hoped for such as thee, young witchfolk, who could disable this nemesis long enough for us to… seek its disposition."

"Then we may leave it to thee?" Magnus asked, relieved.

"Assuredly," an elf replied. "He shall ne'er trouble the folk of this shire again, I promise thee."

"In truth," a brownie agreed. "He was not here a year agone; he shall not be here after."

"Gramercy, then." But Cordelia was still troubled. "What shall we do withNan , though? We cannot bring her with us—and she cannot care for herself now."

"Be of ease in thy mind," an elf-woman assured her. "We shall care for her till her body hath filled itself up with blood again, then take from her mind all memory of Elfland and bring her once again unto her own village."

The circle of elves closed around the form of the vampire, and the spokesman said, "Thou shouldst be gone now, younglings. We shall do as we must, yet thou hast no need to see."

"Why, therefore shall we take our leave," Cordelia said. "Fare well, good elves! Be kind toNan !"

"We shall," the little woman assured her, and they turned away. They had only travelled for fifteen minutes or so when another elf stepped out onto the trail ahead of them. They looked up and stopped. "What cheer?" Geoffrey called.

"All," the elf answered. "The lass sleeps, and mends; the vampire will sleep forever—unless some fool comes upon him, not knowing how much is at stake."

"Thou hast buried him at a crossroad, then?"

"Nay, for folk might come upon him there, if they sought to rear up buildings. We have hidden him in a deep, dark cave."

Magnus frowned. "There are ever human folk who cannot resist the lure of such deep places."

"Even so," the elf agreed, "so we have taken him by dark and secret ways too small for mortal folk, or for any but an elf—or bat."

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" Tis well." But Magnus still wasn't smiling. "Yet there are folk, good elf, who have much more of enthusiasm than of good sense."

"And ever will be," the elf rejoined. "There is no guarding 'gainst them, young wizard, whatsoe'er we may do."

Magnus lifted his head, then gazed off into space. He had never heard someone call him "young wizard" before, and the thought gave him pause.

"AndNan will be well?" Cordelia asked anxiously.

"She will," the elf assured her, "though she will never again be so filled with the joy of living as she once was."

"Ah." Gregory smiled sadly. "Yet is that not the fate that doth await all folk, soon or late?"

"Not always," the elf said.

"Nay," Cordelia said, "it need not."

That brought Magnus out of his daze. He glanced at her, worried—but all he said was, "Come. Away!" And he turned to lead them on down the trail again.

They had gone some ways, Magnus on Fess's back, when he suddenly stopped and frowned down at Geoffrey. "What didst thou say?"

Geoffrey gave him a look of exasperation and spoke again, but Magnus could still barely make out the words. "Nay, say!" he demanded, more loudly.

"Why, thou loon, canst thou not hear what's clearly spoke to thee?" Goeffrey yelled.

"Aye, now —and mind whom thou dost call loon! An thou dost speak so softly, how am I to hear thee?"

"I did not speak softly!" Geoffrey bellowed. "I did speak as ever I do!"

"Which is to say, in impatience," Cordelia called. "If aught, Magnus, he doth ever speak too loudly. Wherefore canst thou not hear him today?"

"Wherefore dost thou call out?" Magnus returned.

Cordelia halted, surprised, and stared up at her brothers. "Why, I did call, did I not?"

"Thou didst," Geoffrey assured her loudly. "Wherefore?"

"I know not…"

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"Why, for that we'd not have understood her words an she had not," Gregory said reasonably, though at much greater volume than was his custom. "Yet wherefore must she? Doth the air swallow our words?" They all looked at one another, confounded, trying to puzzle it out. Then, suddenly, each of them was struck with a subtle sense of wrongness. Geoffrey looked up.

"Summat hath changed."

"Aye." Cordelia glanced about her, brows knit. "What is it?" Magnus eyed the trees around them with suspicion.

Then Geoffrey said, "The music hath stopped."

They turned to him, eyes wide. "Why, so it hath!" Cordelia exclaimed. With a sudden, jangling chord, all the rocks around them began emitting music again. Gregory winced and clasped his hands over his ears. " Thatis why we shouted so! The music had grown so loud, it had drowned out our voices!"

"So it would seem." Cordelia smiled, head tilted to the side as she nodded with the beat. "Yet 'tis pleasant withal."

"As thou wilt have it, sister…"

"As she will or will not!" Magnus called. " 'Tis all about us; we can go to no place where it is not. Yet wherefore hath it grown so much louder?"

"Belike because there are so many more rocks here," Geoffrey suggested.

"Mayhap." But Magnus seemed unconvinced.

"Yet why did I not perceive that it had grown louder, till it ceased?" Cordelia wondered.

"And why did it cease?" Geoffrey demanded.

"For that all the rocks do give off the same sound," Gregory explained, "and the tune paused for a brief time."

"Aye, then would it yield silence." Magnus nodded slowly. "And as we have come west, the number of rocks making music hath increased, thus yielding louder sound."

"Yet so slowly that we did not notice!" Geoffrey agreed. "Thou hast it!" But Gregory still looked doubtful. "There would be some such increase, aye—yet not so much as this."

"Gregory is right," Fess declared. "The proportion of rocks to decibels is not by itself enough to account for so great an increase in emitted sound."

"Then what else?" Cordelia demanded.

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"Why, the music itself hath grown louder, sister," Gregory said, spreading his hands. " 'Tis the only other source of gain."

They looked at one another, astonished.

"Assuredly," Magnus said. "What else, indeed?"

"And now I bethink me, there's some other difference in the music." Geoffrey tapped his foot impatiently.

"What is it?"

"Thou dost tap thy toe in time with the music, brother," Gregory pointed out. Geoffrey stared at his toe, astonished. "Surely not! What dost thou take me for, manikin!"

"My brother," Gregory answered, "who hath ever hearkened to the soldier's drum."

"Aye…" Geoffrey was absorbed in the music, actually listening to it, for once. "Thou hast it aright—there are drums, though of divers kinds."

"More than there were," Cordelia agreed.

"Aye, and a scratching, raucous note to the melody that was not there aforetime," Magnus added.

"If you must call it melody," Fess said, with mechanical dry ness.

"Aye, assuredly 'tis melody!" Cordelia blazed on the instant. "The strain doth rise and fall, doth it not?"

"A strain indeed. It varies by no more than six notes, and uses only four of them. Yet I must admit, it is technically a melody."

"Oh, what matter is it, when the drums, and the deep notes, have so much life in them?" Cordelia's eyes lit, and she began to move her feet in the patterns of a dance. What dance is that?" Geoffrey said, perplexed.

"I'll tell thee when I've finished the crafting of it."

"The rhythmic patterns have grown more complex," Fess agree, "and some are syncopated."

"Sink and pay?" Geoffrey asked. "What meaning hath that?"

"Nay, sink thy pate!" Magnus aimed a slap at his head. "Dost not know the words speak of offbeats?" Geoffrey stepped nimbly back from the blow, leaped, and tagged Magnus, calling, "None so off the beat as thou! What matters it, when the beat is only for marching?"

"Why, when it is for dancing!" Cordelia moved lightly on her feet, her steps becoming more certain. Magnus eyed her askance. "Wilt thou dance, when thou wert so lately compelled to?"

"Aye, for now I'm not."

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