But he had learned much since he came here. Perhaps he, where he stood, was no wiser than Papageno compared with the man who stood before him. He bowed his head, not wanting to look at the misery in Sarastro's eyes. When he looked up again, the priest-king was gone, and the priest he had learned to call his guide was standing before him.
"Prince Tamino," said the guide formally, "are you prepared to continue with the Ordeals?"
"I am."
"My lady Pamina," the guide continued formally, "I am instructed to say to you that there is no obligation upon you to complete these Ordeals. You have been made free of the Path of Earth, and no more is required of women within this Temple. You may still turn back in honor, and may be called priestess and princess. But this is the last point where you may turn back. If you persist for a single step further, then you are committed to the remainder of the Ordeals, and you may not be released till you have conquered or met death upon these Paths."
She looked up at Tamino for a moment, and he saw her swallow, her throat moving just a little under the white linen. Then she said in a quaint, formal tone, "Priest, where my lord and my promised husband goes, those Paths I will tread also, though they lead even to my death."
"So be it; none may deny you that right, noble one," said the priest. "Tamino, do you accept Pamina, then, to walk these Paths at your side?"
Pamina's hand was in his, very small, the fingers trembling a little. One part of Tamino, remembering how foolish the Ordeals had seemed so far, wondered if this was simply another test of willingness, obedience, and courage, pretended obstacles which would vanish if he faced them bravely. Yet something in the memory of Sarastro's face, his obvious fear, told him that what he had seen so far was no more than preliminary to the real testing. He wanted to beg Pamina to let him undertake these Ordeals alone, while she remained in safety. Surely women were not required to face death for Wisdom, and what did they need of it anyhow? Yes, the Starqueen had undergone these Ordeals, but was she any the better for them? Only her pride had profited, it seemed.
And Pamina was the Starqueen's daughter. Would it not be safer if her pride should remain unawakened and unchallenged? He said, "Pamina—" and stopped. Did he trust her or not, did he love her? Or did he, beneath the surface which inspired him to love and trust her, fear her because she was daughter to the Starqueen?
He said, and felt his breathing trip up and stumble as if he had been running too fast, "It is for Pamina to choose. She is my promised wife, not my slave, and I have no right to impose my will upon her. Whatever choice she makes is good in my eyes. But if she chooses to turn back here I swear I will never reproach her."
He felt her fingers tighten in his hand. She said firmly, "I have made my choice."
"So be it, then," said the priest. "Join hands, Taminc and Pamina." He smiled, as if he could see perfectly well that their hands were already joined.
"I commit you, then, to the Ordeal of the element of Air. May the Lord Guardians of the Winds protect you."
He struck his hands sharply together, and the impact was a thunderclap. Suddenly the room was gone. Pamina's hand was still clasped in his; but all around him, the wind tore at his garments, pulled his hair awry, freezing currents of air rode a tornado round them. He reached, on desperate instinct, for Pamina, feeling that the wind would tear her away from him.
"Pamina! Hold fast to me," he cried, but felt the winds drown out his voice. Through the battering of the winds, he felt her arms go round him and cling tightly as they were whirled, battered, thrust violently in one direction after another. In the darkness of storm-clouds they could see nothing, dark mist wrapped them tight.
For a moment the stormclouds cleared from their vision; they were standing, clasped tight in each other's arms, against the battering wind, high above the mountains, in a narrow cleft in the high bluffs where winds thrust and whirled at them. Even as they tried to recover a precarious balance by leaning against the cliff, the wind snatched Pamina's outer garment and whirled it away, flapping like the wings of some monstrous white bird, flinging it far out of reach across the storm-tossed sky so that she stood in her knee-length chemise, shivering. With every gust of wind it seemed as if they would be ripped from where they stood and flung into the abyss of jagged rocks they could see far below.
"Where are we?" Pamina shrieked, directly into his ear, but even so he could hardly hear over the howling of the gale. "What has happened?"
The Ordeal of the Winds, Tamino thought. And what was the Ordeal? To get out of here alive before they were blown off the cliff?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dawn was breaking. Papageno had wandered half the night, after the priests had come and M S taken away Tamino, half expecting to encounter Papagena at every turn in the gardens. At last, disconsolate, hopeless, he had found a large sheltering tree and curled up in the dry leaves under it. He wished he were in his little hut in the woods. What did he want with wisdom and that sort of thing?
What right did he have to expect Sarastro to keep his word? The Starqueen's ladies never had. They had promised him all kinds of things, but he was no better off than before. And he hadn't even been able to keep his own promise. They had warned him not to speak to any women, and despite his brave words to Tamino about the Starqueen's ladies not being women but demons, he knew he had not done as well as he should have. He had laughed and made jokes with the old lady who had suddenly turned into his very own Papagena, and then, because he had broken the laws and talked to her, they had snatched her away and probably he would never see her again.
Anyway, he was only a Halfling, only fit for a slave. They had given him a chance and he had not been worthy of it, and what right did he have to complain? He had a chance to accompany Tamino on a real adventure, and he couldn't measure up. He twisted his small body into a depression in the dead leaves, and at last he fell asleep.
When he woke, day was breaking. He saw a pair of young priests sweeping a path, and wondered why they didn't have Halfling servants to do it for them. He wondered if they would like to have a good faithful servant. It was all he knew how to do, and he supposed the Starqueen wouldn't have him back even if he dared to go. He had hoped the prince would put in a good word for him, but Prince Tamino had gone off on his own business and was probably looking for wisdom somewhere, without a thought to spare for Papageno, who had never wanted to come here in the first place. He felt very dusty, very tired and bruised from his hard bed under the bush, and very hungry.
He got up and shook himself, ruffling the feathered crest of his head. What would the prince do? Not that the prince cared about things like food and shelter, but if he did, what would he do? He was on his own here; he might as well make the best of it. He stole out from the shelter of the bushes. The two young priests had finished sweeping the path, and vanished. Papageno doused his head in the waters of the fountain, and felt better for it; as he shook the drops of water from his crest, he smoothed down his tunic, and found, slung at his waist, the magical bells he had been given.
I can't have failed as badly as all that, he thought, or they'd never have left this magical thing with me.
He sat down cross-legged on the grass and took it off, examining the carved frame, the silver of the bells and the filigree wire on which they were strung. He remembered how Monostatos and his cohorts had been driven away when he played it. And when he played it before, the Messengers or angels, or whatever they were had appeared and given him food. No, that had been when the flute was played.
But maybe they came when certain music was played. They might even be willing to tell him what he ought to do next, whether he should return to the Star-queen, or whether they thought Sarastro and the priests had any use for an honest working man. His fingers hovered hesitantly over the bells; then he began trying to play the tune he remembered Tamino drawing from the flute.
If they didn't want me to use this, they wouldn't have given it to me.
The bells rang out, still with a cheerful
jingling sound. They made Papageno want to dance, too. He began to think that they only played as they chose, not as he tried to make them play. Then a little rushing breeze whirled up from the ground. Papageno's eyes were briefly dazzled by the sun; in the golden light, the three Messengers suddenly appeared before him.
"You who are Master of the element of Earth, brother Halfhng," said one of them—or was their curious speech a blend of unison song? As usual he could not see them clearly because their forms seemed to shift and change. "We are here, your brothers of the element of Air, to render you such help as we may."
Papageno scratched his head. "What did you call me?" he asked, bewildered.
"You have mastered the element of Earth," said the Messengers, "and thus, within reason, you may command whatever belongs to the earthly realms. What would you have?"
Papageno blinked and considered that. Then he said, "I guess food is just about as earthy as you can find. How about some of that? I really like fruits better, but if all I can have is vegetables that grow in the earth, I like yams and carrots and ground nuts about as well as anything. And do you suppose you could stretch that enough to include a cup of the element of Water, friends? I mean, springs and wells are included in the earth, aren't they?"
He thought for a moment that it was the wind jangling the magical bells; then he realized that they were laughing at him. But not as the ladies of the Starqueen had laughed, they were not making fun of his ignorance. Rather, their laughter included awareness that everything on the plane of existence was a subject for good humor and laughter.
"We will start there," said the Messengers. "For food and drink are the life of the body, and the body pertains to the element of Earth, little brother. But you have shown yourself master, in that your mind proclaims you human, master of the animal within. Give that animal just dues, Papageno. Would you not rather share your meal with the comrade you have won by your mastery?"
Papageno said, swallowing hard, "I don't know what you mean."
"You have demonstrated mastery over the first element," said the Messengers, in that voice that was like song, "and so you have earned the right to human speech and more than human speech. Papageno, do you know who we are?"
"You told us you were Messengers. I think myself that you're angels," said Papageno.
"Like yourself, we are Halflings," said one of the Messengers, and to Papageno it seemed that the speaker was a half-grown boy, with feathers like his own. "We are spirits of the Air, but we could not master the element of Earth, nor could we fly, because our wings would not bear us." The wavering golden form turned, to display long trailing wings, which hung, trailing and useless, behind his body; and he drooped as he spoke.
"Of all useless Halflings we were the least; so Sarastro with his magic made us free of the Air, so that we could bear messages and master magical song. It is the element of Air which carries music and desire. Tell us, little brother, have you no other desire than for food and drink?"
Papageno blinked. He supposed that they were taunting him too, as the Starqueen's ladies had done, after all. His eyes blurred with tears.
"Well, yes, I do. But there's no good talking about it, because I know I can't have it. I broke all the rules, didn't I, and I suppose I'll never see her again."
The laughter was like his own golden bells, and suddenly Papageno realized that once again, they were not laughing at him but sharing laughter.
"Little brother, you are a fool," said one of the Messengers. "What is the good of having human speech, if you do not use it to ask for what you desire? The element of Air rules not only music, but human speech and song. You have not been given what you most desire because in your humility, little brother, you have not asked for it. Now play on your magic bells, Papageno, and see who will come to bring you the banquet which celebrates not only eating and drinking, but the fullness of life."
Papageno took up the bells and began to play a tune upon them; first improvising from the sound of his birdcall, then ringing them out gaily through the morning. He did not at first notice that the Messengers had vanished, till he heard a cheery little whistle like his own. Papagena stood before him.
All disguise had vanished. She was wearing a simple green tunic; and in the feathery crest of her hair was a garland of white flowers.
She said softly, "Papageno—"
And now Papageno understood; he saw her through a blur of tears. He stammered at her, "Pa-pa-pa-gena?"
She mocked him gently, with a smile, "Pa-pa-pa-pageno?" And then held out her hand.
"I have some of the wine you didn't have a chance to drink," she said softly, "and fruits, and nuts, in my little house here. And the priestess has told me that I may bring you there, and that it will be our little nest." She smiled up shyly at him.
"Do you want to come?"
But she did not have to wait for his answer. She held out her hand, and he clasped it; and they ran together through the woods.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T as she clung to Tamino, battered by the Ay winds that threatened to sweep them both off I J the cliff face and into the abyss to be smashed on the rocks below, Pamina was aware that this was their first embrace. Before this she had felt only the briefest and most respectful touch of his lips against her hand. And, she thought in terror, it might well be their last embrace in this world.
Father warned me that these Ordeals might lead to my death. At least, if I die, I will die in Tamino's arms. But I would rather live in his arms.
She clung tightly against the winds, bracing herself against the wall of the cliff behind them. In a momentary lull she felt Tamino carefully pushing her into a little niche in the rocks.
"The flute," she cried, trying to get her head close enough to his ear so that she could be heard over the wild roaring of the winds. "The flute—magical weapon of Air—play the flute, Tamino!"
She could see from his face that he did not believe her. But nevertheless he braced himself against the rocks with one hand and struggled to unwrap the silks in which the flute was tied at his waist. As soon as the cloth was loosened the wind seized it and away it flew down the vast canyon between the cliffs, sailing like a bird, the long ends flapping and beating. He had to struggle to bring the flute to his lips because the gusts threatened to tear it from his hands. He flattened his body out against the rocks, spread-eagled there, pressing his shoulders against the wall with all his strength. Pamina dared not remain there in the safety of the niche; she crawled out, not daring to look down, trying to give him the small shelter of her body so that he could raise the flute and blow into it. He gestured angrily at her, signaling imperatively that she should get back to the relative shelter of the rock without delay, but Pamina ignored that.
"Play! Play the flute!"
Even with the shelter of her body it was not easy for him to get the flute to his lips, and Pamina, trembling, shivering, felt the agonizing slowness of every movement. The wind sucked the breath from their lungs with its freezing cold, and his first tentative breath into the flute produced only a small thin sound, vanishing in the winds.
But at last a soft, peaceful melody, so quiet that it could be heard only in snatches over the furious roar of the storm, began to sound. As Tamino played on, pressing himself to the wall with fierce concentration, Pamina began to hear the flute's melody, first momentarily, then for longer and longer intervals at a time as the winds began to die.
And after a time the sound of the flute began to dominate the winds; the tearing hurricane died to soft airs and at last Tamino relaxed and lowered the flute. Pamina drew a deep breath and looked round.
They stood on a high narrow ledge. Below them, a sheer cliff fell away thousands of feet to where, almost invisible below, the pale shimmer of a trickle of river could just be seen. A few feet ahead of them the ledge cracked and fell away into rubble. Above them the mountainside rose to impassable peaks. Gusty winds still careened down the ledge, though they were not strong enough now to dislodge the two
who stood there.
Tamino said, "Now what?"
Pamina's voice was shaky. "We seem to have mastered at least a part of the element of Air. But how are we any better off for it?"
Tamino crept carefully to the very edge of the narrow pathway against the rock, knelt and peered over, while Pamina held her breath.
"There's no way down," he said at last. "I don't think we can climb it, either way. I thought there was a path over that way—" he pointed, leaning over so far that Pamina's breath caught in her throat. "But even if there was, we'd have to get down there first. There's no room to jump down, and no way to climb—the cliff face is almost like glass."
"There must be some way," Pamina said. "I know the Ordeals are dangerous. Yet there are many among the Brotherhood who have passed them, and so did my own mother. Dangerous, yes; life-threatening, as we have seen. But they would not make the Ordeals impossible; what would be the point of that? If they are possible for others, there must be some way for us."
Tamino considered that for a moment. "I'm sure you are right," he said, "but it's hard to imagine what choice we have. Are we supposed to grow wings and fly down to demonstrate our mastery of the element of Air? If so, I fear Sarastro has overestimated my abilities, for I was not born of sorcerer kin, and I never heard that anyone in my family had any magical powers whatever."
"If they expected us to display any magical powers," Pamina said, "it's hard to believe they wouldn't have taught us first how to use them."
Tamino was thinking, the flute in his hand. He said at last, "The last thing Sarastro said to me was that the flute was a very powerful magical weapon. And it did control the winds and probably kept us from being blown from this place altogether. I suppose I could play it again and see what happens. It has saved us already once, and we were not told that we could use it once only. If it is the weapon of the element of Air, and we were given no other—perhaps we are intended to use it to master this."
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