Wizard at Large (6 page)

“He's just frightened,”Elizabeth offered. “He doesn't know you yet.”

“Yeah, guess I can understand that.”The man started on his way again. “Let's go, Bert.”

The other hesitated. “Does your father know about this dog, Elizabeth?” he asked. “I thought he told you no pets.”

“Oh. Well, he changed his mind,”Elizabeth said. Abernathy slipped out from behind her, pulling on the leash. “I have to go now. ‘Bye.”

“‘Bye, Elizabeth,”the man said. He started away, then
turned back. “Hey, what kind of dog is that anyway?” “I don't know,”Elizabeth called. “Just a mutt.”It was all Abernathy could do to keep from biting her.

“I am not a mutt,”he told her when it was safe to talk again. “I happen to be a soft-coated Wheaten Terrier. My bloodlines are probably better than your own.”

Elizabeth blushed. “Sorry, Abernathy,”she said softly, eyes downcast.

“Oh, well, that's all right,”he soothed, trying to make up for his gruffness. “I simply wanted you to know that I possess pedigree despite my condition.”

They sat in her room on the edge of her bed, safe for the moment. Her room was bright and sunny in contrast to what they had seen of the rest of the castle, the walls paneled and papered, the floor carpeted, and the furniture soft and feminine with stuffed animals and dolls scattered about. Books lined a case on one wall beside a small writing desk, and pictures of teddy bears and puffins were hung casually about. A poster of something or someone called Bon Jovi was taped to the back of the closed door.

“Tell me about you and Michel,”Elizabeth asked, eyes lifting once more.

Abernathy sat back stiffly. “Michel Ard Rhi is part of the reason that I am a dog,”he said. He thought for a moment. “Elizabeth, I honestly don't know if I should tell you this or not.”

“Why, Abernathy?”

“Well… because much of it is going to be very hard for you to believe.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Like what you told me about the wizard changing you from a man into a dog? Like you being from another world?” She shook her head and looked very solemn. “I can believe things like that, Abernathy. I can believe there are things most people don't know anything
about. Like magic. Like make-believe places that really aren't make-believe. My dad tells me all the time that there are all kinds of things people don't believe just because they don't understand them.”She paused. “I don't tell anyone this—except for my best friend Nita—but I think that there are other people living out there somewhere on other worlds. I do.”

Abernathy regarded her with new respect. “You happen to be right,”he said finally. “This is not my world, Elizabeth. It is not Michel Aid Rhi's world either. We are both from a world called Landover, a kingdom really, not very big, but very far away. It is a crossroads for many worlds besides yours, all leading into the mists where the fairy people live. The mists are the source of all magic. The fairies live entirely in the magic; other worlds and peoples do not—at least, not for the most part.”

He stopped, trying to think how to proceed. Elizabeth was staring at him with amazement, though not disbelief. He reached up and shoved his glasses further back on his nose.

“What happened to me happened more than twenty years ago. Michel's father was King of Landover then. He was in the final year of his life. I was his Court Scribe. Michel was about your age—but other than that, he was nothing like you, of course.”

“Was he bad?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“He was.”

“He's not very nice now, either.”

“Well, then, he has not changed much from when he was your age.”Abernathy sighed. The memories came flooding back, painful images that lingered and refused to go. “I played with Michel while he was growing up. His father asked me to and so I did. He was not a very pleasant child, especially after Meeks took him under his wing. Meeks was the old Court Wizard, a very bad man. He
made friends with Michel and taught him bits of magic. Michel liked that. He was always pretending he could do anything he wanted to do. When I played with him, he always pretended he had a castle called Graum Wythe, a fortress stronghold that could stand against a hundred hostile armies and a dozen wizards. He liked the idea of having so much power at his command.”

Abernathy shook his head. “He played at this and he played at that, and I went along with it. It was not my place to question what was happening to the boy—or what I thought was happening. The old King did not seem to see it as clearly as I did…” He shrugged. “Michel was quite a little monster, I'm afraid.”

“Was he mean to you?” Elizabeth asked.

“He was, but he was much meaner to others. I had some protection because I was Court Scribe. Others were not so fortunate. And Michel was really cruel toward animals. He seemed to take great delight in tormenting them. Particularly cats. He really hated cats for some reason. He was always finding strays and throwing them off the castle walls…”

“That's horrible!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

Abernathy nodded. “I told him so. Then one day I caught him doing something so unspeakable that even now I cannot bear to talk about it. In any case, that was the end of my patience. I picked up that boy, turned him over my knee, and beat him with a switch until he howled! I did not think about what I was doing, I just did it. When I was finished, he ran screaming from the room, furious at me for what I had done to him.”

“Well, he deserved it,”Elizabeth announced, certain of it even without knowing what it was he had done.

“Nevertheless, it was a terrible mistake on my part,”Abernathy continued. “I should have left well enough alone and simply advised the King on his return. The King was gone, you see, and Michel had been left to the care of
Meeks. He went immediately to Meeks, therefore, and demanded that I be punished. He wanted my hand cut off. Meeks, I learned later, laughed and agreed. Meeks never cared much for me, you see. He felt I influenced the old King against him. So Michel summoned his guards and they came looking for me. There was no one to protect me. Meeks was acting regent in the King's absence. I would most certainly have had my hand removed had they found me.

“But they didn't.”Elizabeth was anxious to help the story along.

“No. Questor Thews found me first. Questor was Meeks's half brother, a wizard as well, albeit a lesser talent. He was visiting for the week, hoping the old King would find him a position somewhere or other. We were friends, Questor and I. He did not care much for his half-brother or Michel either, and when he heard what was happening he came to warn me. There was no time for me to escape from the castle and no place to hide within it. Michel knew them all. So I allowed Questor Thews to change me into a dog so I would not be harmed. I wasn't, fortunately, but afterward Questor was unable to change me back again.”

“So it wasn't a bad wizard who changed you after all,”Elizabeth said.

Abemathy shook his head. “No, Elizabeth—just a poor excuse for one.”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly, her freckled face lined with thought. “And you've been a dog all these years? Sorry. A… a soft-coated Wheat Terrier?”

“Soft-coated
Wheaten
Terrier. Yes. Except for my fingers and my voice and my thinking, which are still the same as they were when I was a man.”

Elizabeth smiled a sort of sad child's smile. “I wish I could help you, Abernathy. Help change you back, I mean.”

Abernathy sighed. “Someone tried that already. That's how I ended up here, scrunched up in that display case. Questor Thews again, I'm afraid. He is not any more adept at his art now than he was thirty years ago. He thought he had finally found a way to change me back. Unfortunately, the magic failed him once again, and here I am, trapped in the castle home of my worst enemy.”

They were silent for a moment, staring at each other. Afternoon sunshine spilled through the curtained windows and warmed the room. The speckled blue and violet wild-flowers in the vase on the dresser smelled of meadows and hills. From somewhere distant, there came the faint sound of laughter and a scraping of boxes or crates. Abernathy was reminded of home.

Elizabeth was speaking. “My father once told me that Michel could be very mean to animals,”she was saying. “He said that was why I couldn't have a pet—because something might happen to it. No one at Graum Wythe has a pet. You never see any animals here.”

“I don't wonder,”Abernathy replied wearily.

She looked at him. “Michel mustn't be allowed to find you.”

“No, he certainly mustn't.”

“But the watch will say something about my having a dog, I'll bet.”She frowned at the thought. “The watch tells him everything. They keep this place guarded just like a prison. Even my father can't go everywhere—and he is chief steward of Graum Wythe. Michel relies on him completely. He runs everything—well, almost everything. He doesn't run the watch. They report directly to Michel.”

Abernathy nodded, saying nothing, thinking suddenly of the medallion concealed beneath his tunic, imagining what would happen if he were caught wearing it.

Elizabeth sighed. “I don't like Michel very much— even though he's really never done anything to me. He just isn't very friendly. He always looks so… creepy.”

Abernathy didn't know what “creepy” meant, but he was sure it was something Michel Ard Rhi could be. “I have to get away from here, Elizabeth. You have to help me.

“But, Abernathy, where will you go?” she asked immediately.

“It really doesn't matter so long as it is far away from here,”he advised. He paused, frowning. “I still cannot understand why I am here rather than somewhere else. Here, of all places. How could that happen?” He shook his head.

“I think I should go with you,”Elizabeth said suddenly.

“No! No, you cannot do that!” Abernathy replied at once. “No, no, Elizabeth, I have to go alone.”

“But you don't even know where you're going!”

“I can find my way, believe me. There is a way back into Landover if you wear the medallion. The High Lord told me something of it once—a place called Virginia. I can find it.”

“Virginia is at the other end of the country!” Elizabeth exclaimed, horrified. “How will you get there?”

Abernathy stared at her. He had no idea, of course. “There are ways,”he said finally. “But I have to get out of here first. Will you help me?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Of course, I'll help you.”She stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out. “I have to think of a way to sneak you through one of the gates. They check everyone going out.”She thought. “It's too late today to do anything. Maybe tomorrow. I have to go to school, but I get home by four. Or maybe I'll pretend to be sick and stay home. I can't hide you here for very long.”She looked over. “I still think I should go with you.”

Abernathy nodded. “I know. But you can't, Elizabeth. You are too young. It would be too dangerous.”

Elizabeth frowned, then turned back to the window. “My dad says that sometimes when I ask to do things.”

“I suppose he does.”

Elizabeth turned back again and looked over with a smile. He saw himself fleetingly in the mirror behind her, saw himself as she saw him, a dog in red and gold silk clothing sitting on her bed, glasses on his furry nose, soulful brown eyes looking back at her. He suddenly thought how ridiculous he must seem to her. He looked away, embarrassed.

But she surprised him. “Are we going to stay good friends, Abernathy,”she asked, “even after you're gone?”

He would have smiled if it were possible for dogs to do so. “Yes, Elizabeth, we are.”

“Good. I'm really glad that I'm the one who found you, you know.”

“I am, too.”

“I still wish you would let me come with you.”

“I know.”

“Why don't you think about it.”

“I will.”

“Do you promise?”

Abernathy sighed. “Elizabeth?”

“Yes?”

“I could think much better if I had something to eat. And maybe something to drink?”

She bounced out of the room. Abernathy watched her go. He liked Elizabeth. He had to admit that he didn't mind so much being a dog around her after all.

“There is something that lives in the bottle,”Questor Thews said.

He sat with Ben, Willow, and the kobolds in the garden room. Night's shadows cloaked everything in shawls of gray and black, save only where a single dimmed light from a smokeless lamp lent muted shades of color to a small circle of space where four listeners sat hunched over in silence, waiting for the wizard to continue. Questor's owlish face was gaunt and craggy with worry, his brow furrowed more deeply than usual, his eyes bits of silver glitter. His hands were folded in his lap, gnarled sticks of deadwood that had become inextricably locked together.

“The thing is called a Darkling. It is a kind of demon.”

Like the bottle imp
, Ben thought suddenly, remembering the old Robert Louis Stevenson story. Then he remembered what the creature of that story had done to its owners and he experienced a sudden twinge of uneasiness.

“The Darkling is very like the genie of the lamp in the
old tales,”Questor continued. Ben felt the uneasiness begin to subside. “It serves the holder of its bottle, appearing when summoned, doing its master's bidding. It uses various forms of magic to accomplish this.”He sighed. “Unfortunately, the magic it uses is all bad.”