by Terry Brooks
“How can you know he was with her if you didn’t see him?” Ben demanded, no longer feeling quite so calm about things.
“Fairy creatures, such as Mistaya’s mud puppy, leave a small but unmistakable trace of magic with their passing. Even if they are not visible to the eye, they can be detected by the once-fairy So we knew he was there with her when she arrived. But when she left, there was no longer even a tiny trace of him.”
“Perhaps it was the mud puppy’s doing.” Ben was trying to put a good face on things, even though he wasn’t feeling good about this piece of information. Haltwhistle, a gift from the Earth Mother, was his daughter’s constant companion and protector in Landover. He was as close to her as her shadow. “Couldn’t he have covered their tracks?”
The River Master shook his head. “A mud puppy can transport a charge to another place. It cannot hide its own or another’s passing. Mistaya’s trail was hidden from us. Another magic was required for that. Only the most powerful of fairy creatures would possess such magic.”
Ben thought immediately of Nightshade, but quickly dismissed the idea. The Witch of the Deep Fell was gone. There was no indication that she had returned. He was letting his imagination run away with him.
“I shall continue to search for Mistaya, Ben Holiday,” the River Master added. “I shall do everything in my power to find out where she has gone.”
Ben nodded. “I know you will.”
“There is one thing more I need to say. I know what you and my daughter think of me. I know I have brought some of this on myself. But I would do nothing to undermine you with Mistaya. When she asked to stay with me and I told her she could not, I told her as well that when I had doubted your ability you had proven me wrong, that you were the King that Landover needed. I told her, as well, that you and my daughter were good parents to her and that she should listen to you and trust you.”
He shifted his gaze to Willow. “I have been hard on you, I know. I wish it could be otherwise, but I am not sure it ever can. Although I have tried, I find I cannot put aside entirely the pain even your presence causes me. You are your mother reborn, and your mother is a ghost that haunts me daily. I cannot escape her memory or forgive her betrayal. When I see you, I see her. I am sorry for this, but there it is.”
Willow nodded. “It is enough that you do what you can for Mistaya, Father,” she said quietly. “She looks up to you. She respects you.”
The River Master nodded but said nothing There was a momentary silence as they stood facing one another.
“Will you take something to eat?” Willow tried.
The River Master shook his head. The bladed features showed nothing as they faced her squarely for the first time. He looked as if he might say something more, but then abruptly he turned away, and with his retainers in tow he disappeared back into the trees and was gone.
Ben stood close to Willow, staring after them. He said softly, “He does the best he can, I think.”
There were tears in her eyes as she nodded.
“We have to do something more about finding Mistaya,” he added, anxious to leave the subject of her father. “I’m starting to worry about her. Perhaps the Landsview will help this time, if I…”
“No,” she said at once, her voice firm and steady. “We’ll go to the Earth Mother, instead. She will know where our daughter is.”
Ben nodded and put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. She always made the right choice.
They went back inside the castle, ate their breakfast, packed for an overnight journey, had Bunion saddle their horses, and by mid-morning had set out with the kobold as their escort to find the Earth Mother. It wasn’t a given that they would. You didn’t find the Earth Mother just by looking for her. What was needed was a visit to the northern borders of the River Master’s country, close by the swampy areas where the Earth Mother dwelled. If she wished to see you, she would send a mud puppy to guide you to her. If she had better things to do, you would wait a long time and had better have other plans for the interim.
Ben was happy to have Bunion back in one piece. The kobold hadn’t spoken to him directly of his misadventures at Rhyndweir, but Questor had uncovered the truth of things and passed it along. He had also given Ben the book on poisons that Bunion had stolen from Laphroig’s library. The notes and markings pretty much revealed the fate of Laphroig’s unfortunate wife and child and reaffirmed Ben’s suspicions. By itself, it wasn’t enough to convict Rhyndweir’s Lord of murder, but it was enough to underline the importance of keeping him well away from Mistaya until such time as he overstepped himself in a way that would allow him to be stripped of his title and punished in a court of law.
The day was hazy and cool, unusual for this time of year, and the grayness lent a faint despondency to their travel. Without wishing it so, Ben found himself growing steadily more pessimistic about his missing daughter. Where he had come from, there was a reasonable amount of danger for teenagers. But Landover was dangerous on a whole other level, and even Mistaya, for all her talent and experience, need only make one misstep to invite fatal consequences. He should have gone out and found her and brought her back the moment he knew she was missing. He should never have waited for her to come back on her own.
But after a while his pessimism gave way to reason, and he accepted that what he had done was the right thing and he should just have a little faith in his recalcitrant daughter. Didn’t Willow have faith, after all? Had she once expressed serious concern for Mistaya?
On the other hand, Willow was a sylph whose father was a wood sprite and whose mother was a creature so wild that no one could hold her fast. Willow was a woman who periodically turned into a tree and sent roots down into the earth for nourishment so that she could survive. How could he equate his own sensibilities with hers? She could function emotionally on a whole separate plane of existence than he could.
So the morning passed away and then the early part of the afternoon. They stopped once to rest and feed the horses and to eat lunch themselves. Ben was feeling much better about things by then, although he couldn’t have said why. Perhaps it was the fact that he was doing something besides sitting around waiting. He had used the Landsview every day since Mistaya’s disappearance without success. Now, at least, he had reason to think they might find her.
They camped that night by the shores of the Irrylyn. Before eating their dinner, while the twilight shadows settled in about them in purple hues, they went down to the lake to bathe together. Bunion remained behind to set camp for them, and they were alone as they stripped off their clothes in a secluded cove and walked down to the shore. As they sank into the waters—he was always surprised that lake waters could feel so warm and comforting—he was reminded anew of their first meeting. He had been new to the role of King and not yet accepted by anyone beyond Questor and Abernathy. He had come in search of allies, thinking to start with the River Master, and Willow had appeared to him as if by magic. Or perhaps it was magic, he thought. He had never questioned the how and the why of it. But it had changed his life, and every day he was reminded of it anew.
They washed and they held each other and stayed in their quiet, solitary place for a long time before coming back to the camp. Ben thought it was over too soon, thought they could have stayed there forever, and wished with lingering wistfulness that they had.
He slept well that night for the first time, free of dreams and wakefulness, his sleep deep and untroubled.
When he woke again, it was nearing dawn, and a mud puppy was sitting right in front of him, watching. The Earth Mother was summoning them to a meeting as they had hoped.
“Willow,” he said softly, shaking her gently awake.
She opened her eyes, saw the mud puppy, and was on her feet at once. “That’s Haltwhistle, Ben,” she whispered to him, an unmistakable urgency echoing off the words.
They dressed hurriedly, and leaving Bunion to watch over things they let the mud puppy show them the way. Haltwhistle gave n
o indication that he knew who they were, and to tell the truth Ben wasn’t sure he could have identified the creature without Willow to help him. Mud puppies all looked the same to him. But if it really was his daughter’s, then Mistaya was out there somewhere on her own without her assigned protector, and that was not good.
He took a moment to recall all the times that the Earth Mother had helped them in the past, both together and individually. An ancient fairy creature come out of the mists eons ago when Landover was first formed, she was the kingdom’s caretaker and gardener. Wedded to the earth and its growing things, an integral part of the organic world, she nevertheless maintained a physical presence, as well. She was wise and farsighted and ageless, and she loved Mistaya.
They walked for a long time, leaving behind the Irrylyn and the surrounding forests and descending into mist-shrouded lowlands in which the ground quickly grew soggy and uncertain. Patches of standing water turned to acres of swamp, and stands of reeds and grasses clogged the passage in all directions. But the mud puppy maneuvered through it all without pausing, leading them along a narrow strip of solid ground until at last they had reached a vast stretch of muddied water amid a thick forest of cedars.
Haltwhistle stopped at the edge of this water and sat. Ben and Willow stopped next to him and stood waiting.
The wait was short. Almost immediately the waters began to churn and then to heave and the Earth Mother appeared from within, rising to the surface like a spirit creature, her woman’s form slowly taking shape as she grew in size until she was much larger than they were. Coated in mud—perhaps formed of it—and her body slick with swamp waters, she stood upon the surface of the mire and opened her eyes to look down on them.
“Welcome, King and Queen of Landover,” she greeted. “Ben Holiday of Earth and Willow of the lake country, I have been expecting you.”
“Is that Haltwhistle who brought us here?” Ben asked at once, wasting no time getting to the point.
“It is,” the Earth Mother confirmed.
“But shouldn’t he be with Mistaya?”
“He should. But he has been sent home to me. He will remain here until Mistaya summons him anew.”
“Why would Mistaya send him home?” Willow asked.
The Earth Mother shifted positions atop the water, causing her sleek body to shimmer and glisten in the misty, graying light. “It was not your daughter who sent Haltwhistle home to me. It was another who travels with her.”
“The G’home Gnomes?” Ben demanded in disbelief.
The Earth Mother laughed softly. “A mud puppy will not leave its master or mistress and cannot be kept by humans. A mud puppy is a fairy creature and not subject to human laws. But powerful magic wielded by another fairy creature is a different matter. Such magic was used here.”
Ben and Willow exchanged a quick glance, both thinking the same thing. “By Nightshade?” Ben asked quickly. “By the Witch of the Deep Fell?”
“By a Prism Cat,” the Earth Mother answered.
Ben closed his eyes. He knew of only one Prism Cat, and he had crossed paths with it more than once since coming to Landover, almost always to his lasting regret. “Edgewood Dirk,” he said in dismay.
“The Prism Cat found your daughter in the lake country and took her away with him. But first the cat sent Haltwhistle back to me. The message was clear.”
Clear enough, Ben thought in dismay. But what did Dirk want with Mistaya? The cat always wanted something; he knew that much from experience. It would be no different here. The trouble was in determining what he was after, which was never apparent and always difficult to uncover. The Prism Cat would talk in riddles and lead you in circles and never get to the point or answer a question directly. Like cats everywhere, he was enigmatic and obtuse.
But Edgewood Dirk was dangerous, too. The Prism Cat possessed a very powerful magic, just as the Earth Mother had said. Yet the extent of that magic went far beyond his ability to manipulate a mud puppy. Ben felt a new urgency at the thought of Dirk’s proximity to Mistaya.
“Where is Mistaya now?” he asked the Earth Mother.
“Gone with the Prism Cat,” she answered once more. “But the Prism Cat covers their tracks and the way of their passing, and even I cannot determine where they are.”
Ben felt a slow sinking in the pit of his stomach. If the Earth Mother didn’t know where Mistaya was and couldn’t find her, how could he expect to?
“Can you reverse the magic used to send Haltwhistle home to you?” Willow asked suddenly. “Can you send him back out again to find our daughter?”
The elemental shifted again, scattering droplets of water that sparkled like diamonds shed. “Haltwhistle can only go to her if she calls him now. She has not done so, child. So he must remain with me.”
All the air went out of Ben on hearing this. His one chance at finding his daughter had evaporated right before his eyes. If the Earth Mother couldn’t help him find her, he didn’t know if there was anyone who could.
“Can you tell us anything to do?” Willow asked suddenly, her voice calm and collected, free of any hint of desperation or worry. “Is there a way to communicate with her?”
“Go home and wait,” the Earth Mother said to her. “Be patient. She will communicate with you.”
Ben tried to say something more, but the elemental was already sinking back into the swamp, slowly losing shape, returning to the earth in which she was nurtured. In seconds she was gone. The surface of the water rippled softly and went still. Silence settled in like a heavy blanket, and the mist drew across the water.
Haltwhistle looked up at them, waiting.
“Take us back, mud puppy,” Willow said softly.
They walked back the way they had come, weaving through the swamp grasses and reeds, winding about the deep pools of water and thick mud, carefully keeping to the designated path. Neither Ben nor Willow spoke. There was nothing either of them wanted to say.
On reaching their camp and Bunion, Haltwhistle turned back at once and vanished into the mist. Ben shook his head. He had the vague feeling he should have done something more, but he couldn’t say what. He walked over to where their camping gear was already packed and ready to be loaded and sat down heavily.
He looked at Willow expectantly as she sat next to him. “What do we do now?”
She smiled, surprising him. “We do what the Earth Mother suggested, Ben. We go home and wait for Mistaya to communicate with us.”
This was not what he was hoping to hear, and he failed to hide his disappointment. “I don’t know if I can leave it at that.”
“I know. You want to do something, even if you don’t quite know what that something is.” She thought about it a moment. “We can ask Questor if he has a magic that can track a Prism Cat. He might know something that would help.”
Sure, and cows might fly. But Ben just nodded, knowing that he didn’t have a better suggestion. Not at the moment, anyway. Not until he thought about it some more.
So they loaded their gear on their horses and set out for home, and all the way back Ben kept thinking that he was missing something obvious, that there was something he was overlooking.
THEY SEEK THAT PRINCESS EVERYWHERE!
The sun was just cresting the horizon when Questor Thews slipped from his bed, drew on his favorite bathrobe (the royal blue one with the golden moons and stars), and his dragon slippers (the ones that looked as if his toes were breathing fire), and padded down to the kitchen for his morning coffee. He had discovered coffee some years back during one of his unfortunate visits to Ben’s world and had secured several sacks in the process, which he now hoarded like gold. Mistaya had been good enough to add to his supply now and again during her time at Carrington, but since she had been dismissed, he wasn’t sure how long it would be before he could replenish his stock.
He finished brewing a pot and was in the process of enjoying his first cup of the day when Abernathy wandered in and sat down across from him. “May I?” he asked, motio
ning toward the coffee.
Questor nodded, wondering for what must have been the hundredth time how a soft-coated wheaten terrier could possibly enjoy drinking coffee. It must be a part of him that was still human and not dog, of course. But it just looked odd, a dog drinking coffee.
“Any new thoughts as to where our missing girl might be?” Abernathy inquired of him, licking his chops as he took the first swallow of his coffee.
Questor shook his head. “Not a one. The High Lord is right, though. I think we are missing something important about all this.”
Ben Holiday had voiced his opinion on this late last night on his return from the lake country, more than a hint of discouragement coloring his voice and draping his tired visage. He had thought that he and Willow would find her there, but instead they had found only clues that seemed to lead nowhere. If neither the River Master nor the Earth Mother could help, it didn’t look good for the rest of them.
“What could Edgewood Dirk want with her?” Abernathy asked suddenly, as if reading his thoughts.
Questor grunted and shook his head. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“He wouldn’t be going to the trouble of hiding her tracks if his intentions were of the right sort,” his friend agreed. “Remember how much trouble he caused the last time he showed up?”
Questor remembered, all right. But on thinking back, it didn’t seem that Dirk had been the cause of the trouble so much as the indicator. Something like a compass. The Prism Cat had appeared at the behest of the fairies in the mists, a sort of emissary sent to nudge the High Lord and his friends in the direction required for setting aright things that had gone askew—all without really telling them what it was exactly that needed righting. If that were true here, then Mistaya might be headed for a good deal more trouble than she realized.