The Warlock Is Missing

by Christopher Stasheff

  Cordelia opened her mouth to scream, but Geoffrey clapped a hand over it. She clenched her fists, fighting hard to keep silent, to keep from breaking her brothers' concentration.

  "Now, 'tis time!" Lontar called from the other side of the door.

  "I like this not," said Phebe's voice.

  "Thou wilt be party to it, or thou shalt join with them! Groghat, seize her!… Aieee! Mine head! The pain… Nay! Mind me not—but seize her! Yüü!"

  There were sounds of a struggle; Phebe screamed.

  "Ah, now," Lontar panted, "thou'rt decided. 'Tis well. One way or another, lass, thou shalt join us for dinner…"

  The key groaned in the lock.

  Geoffrey whirled, catching up the broomstick and leaping to his feet, stick raised to guard, jumping in front of his sister.

  "I have him, Father," Magnus said suddenly. His voice sounded different, somehow—a little deeper, a little more resonant. "His mind doth meld with mine."

  The door groaned open. Lontar stepped into the room, giggling; spittle drooled from his lip, and his eyes were wild.

  Gregory opened his eyes, turned to look, and grasped Magnus's hand. "Lend him thine eyes, brother!"

  "What! Wilt thou fight me, then?" Lontar pointed at Geoffrey, cackling. "Good, good! Exercise doth make a good appetite! Yet I think thou art too tough and stringy—I'll start with another!" He stepped forward, cackling and reaching out toward Cordelia. "Aieee!" His head whipsnapped at the sudden pain, but he squinted against it and came on toward her in spite of it.

  Magnus turned slowly, opening his eyes and frowning. He saw Lontar and stretched out his arm, forefinger pointing.

  "Ah! The biggest doth see me, then!" Lontar crowed. "Art ready to bathe, lad? The water is hot, and oiled with onions and carrots! Yet thou, too, art like to be tough; we'll start with the smallest! Yi-eeee!" He winced at the pain, but turned toward Gregory anyway.

  A bolt of pure energy spat from Magnus's finger with a sound like a gunshot. It struck Lontar square in the chest. The old sorcerer screamed once, falling backward. His whole body heaved; then he lay still.

  Phebe and Groghat stared, horrified.

  Geoffrey disappeared with a thunder-crack.

  Groghat came to his senses, knocked Phebe aside, and charged into the room, roaring.

  Cordelia narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. A horde of old nails and scrap iron shot in through the window and crashed into Groghat's face. He howled, batting the stuff aside—but thunder cracked, and Geoffrey appeared on his shoulders. He jammed the broomstick across Groghat's throat and hauled back.

  The giant made a gargling sound, eyes bulging, and grasped at the stick—but as he did, his feet shot out from under him, and he slammed down onto the floor with a crash that shook the whole chamber. A lump of old iron slammed into his temple, and he collapsed, unconscious.

  Geoffrey turned on Phebe, his eyes narrowed.

  She shrank back against the wall, horrified—then remembered herself. She managed a tremulous smile, and stepped away from the wall, eyelids drooping. "Nay, then! Hast thou come for me, young man?"

  A wave of attraction seemed to roll out from her, fascinating, binding.

  Geoffrey hesitated.

  "Have at thee, hag!" Cordelia screamed, and a length of old chain lashed Phebe, wrapping itself around her throat. She gave a horrified scream that choked off into a gurgle—and the broomstick wrenched itself out of Geoffrey's hands to crash into her skull. Her eyes rolled up, and she folded.

  Geoffrey drew a long, shuddering breath. "Sister—I thank thee! Remember it well, for I'll say it but rarely."

  "'Tis wondrous as 'tis," she returned, and stepped over to Groghat. "Doth he truly sleep?"

  Geoffrey stepped over with her, peering down. "Aye, well and soundly. Aid me, sister—roll him over."

  Together, frowning, they stared at the giant. His body shook, heaved—and pitched over. "One apiece," Cordelia said tightly, and the giant's hands yanked up behind his back. A length of old chain shot out and whipped about his wrists; then Cordelia glared at two links. They glowed cherry-red, then yellow—then darkened again.

  "Well welded," Geoffrey approved. " 'Twas on the outside links, and 'twas so quickly done that he's not even burned."

  "More's the pity," Magnus grunted.

  They spun about, surprised. "Eh!" Geoffrey said. "Thou art come back to us, art thou?"

  "Aye," his brother said, "and I gave Lord Kern great thanks for the power he lent us, and Albertus thanks for conducting it to me."

  "And great thanks to Vidor," Gregory piped, "for bethinking him that his elder brother might be able to blend his mind with thine, and for summoning him."

  "Aye. I thanked him, too." Magnus looked down at Gregory. "If ever they need our aid, lad, we must turn to them instantly."

  "Aye, without fail," Gregory agreed. "Yet, Magnus, their Papa did say he was glad of the chance to repay our Papa for his good aid."

  "'Tis not a balance of good deeds, but a chain," Magnus averred. He turned to his brother and sister, saw the unconscious bodies, and grunted, "Thou hast worked well, here."

  "We had need to find summat with which to pass the time, while certain parties were abstracted," Geoffrey said, trying for nonchalance.

  "Whiles we, of course, did play," Magnus responded. He rose, with difficulty. "Eh! But my joints ache!" He stepped over to Lontar and knelt beside him, placing a hand on the vein in his neck.

  "Thou'lt not start his heart again!" Geoffrey protested.

  "Nay." Magnus drew back his hand in disgust. "There's no need."

  "He yet lives?" Geoffrey cried in dismay.

  "And he called thee tough and stringy," Cordelia snorted.

  Geoffrey looked about at the three, at a loss for once. "What… what are we to do with them?"

  The brothers and sister exchanged a blank look.

  "We cannot leave them to take up their evil again," Cordelia said.

  "Aye, but 'tis not for us to say they must die, neither," Magnus answered.

  They stared at one another in silence.

  Then Geoffrey crowed, "I have it! We shall let Mama and Papa decide!"

  "Oh, excellent, brother," Magnus scoffed, "most excellent! Aye, we'll bid Mama and Papa come here in judgment—as soon as we find them!"

  "Oh, nay! We know they'll come home, soon or late—so we'll take these vile villains there, to await them!"

  Cordelia and Magnus stared at him, floored by the sheer audacity of the plan.

  Then Cordelia giggled.

  Magnus grinned. "Wherefore not? 'Twill serve them well for going adventuring without us! Come, brother, let's bind them!"

  "Aye," Geoffrey agreed, picking up another length of rusty chain. "And who knows? Mayhap Lontar will die on the way!"

  Puck and Kelly stared, unbelieving, as the children came out of the doorway at the base of the tower. Then Puck turned to Summer. "To the King, straight away! Tell him they are safe, that he need not come! Scat!"

  Summer flew off, casting an indignant look backward at him.

  It was wasted; Puck and Kelly were already shooting over the floor of the clearing, straight toward the children.

  "Magnus! Cordelia! Geoffrey! Gregory! By Oak, Ash and Thorn! Ye are safe!"

  Cordelia managed a smile. "Aye, praise all saints!"

  "We could not come to thine aid, for there was so great a deal of Cold Iron hung about that tower!"

  "That foul, fell felon," Kelly howled, "who's so craven that he must needs drape his house in all that we dread! 'Tis naught but what ye should look for, from such vile fellows as…"

  He broke off, staring at the procession of unconscious bodies that floated out of the tower behind the children.

  "Eh!" Puck gasped. "How hast thou taken these trussed-up fowls?"

  "With great difficulty," Magnus assured him, "and only with the aid of some folk who were not there."

  "Not there? How is this?" Puck's gaze sharpened with keen suspicion as he looked
up at Magnus. Then he stared. "Lad! Thine hair!"

  "What of it?" Magnus put a hand to his head, suddenly self-conscious. "'Tis yet there!"

  But his brothers and Cordelia were staring, too. "We had not noticed, in all the turmoil," she said, "yet now…"

  "What is it?"

  "I ha' known thee since before thou wast born," Puck avowed, "and ever was thine hair as golden as the crown of a king!"

  "Wilt thou not tell me?" Magnus exploded.

  "Gregory," Cordelia said, "thy friend Vidor—what color is the hair of his older brother?"

  Magnus's eyes widened as he began to suspect.

  Gregory looked up and blinked. "Black is the color of Albertus's hair, 'Delia."

  "And of what hue is mine?" Magnus asked into the sudden silence.

  "Black as jet," Cordelia whispered.

  "Like the wings of a raven," Puck agreed.

  Chapter 18

  It was an oddly-assorted parade that threaded its way through the dappled shadows of the late-afternoon forest—three Gal-lowglass boys of diminishing sizes, followed by Fess with a witch and a sorcerer slung over his back, and an improvised horse collar around his neck and shoulders, from which two ropes stretched back to Groghat's ankles. Cordelia rode behind the giant on her unicorn, frowning at Groghat as she concentrated on keeping his huge mass just high enough so that he didn't drag on the ground. She didn't worry too much about brambles, though.

  The shadows were lengthening as they came out of the forest and saw their home, serene and warm with late afternoon sun, nestling under the huge oak against the hillside.

  " 'Tis yet there!" Cordelia breathed.

  "Praise Heaven," Magnus agreed.

  But Kelly suddenly struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oy vay! How could I have forgotten?"

  "How couldst thou indeed?" Puck asked. "Nay, elf, an thou hast any cause at all to be from us…"

  "What is it, then?" Cordelia turned to him.

  "The fairies' shoes! I had promised two flower-folk to have new slippers for them, for treading of the elfin ring this night! Nay, I must be off to my bench and last!"

  "Do not dare!" Puck said, but Kelly was already darting off through the greenwood, crying, "Farewell!"

  "He could not, after all, disappoint the two fairies." Cordelia scowled at Puck. "Thou art but mean, Robin!"

  "I mean a great deal indeed." Puck glared after the fleeing elf. "Nay, an I catch that son of Erin and Israel again…"

  "Thou must not injure one who hath shared our trials," Gregory protested.

  "Aye, all but the final one."

  "What dost thou speak of?" Magnus questioned.

  "'Tis my concern, not thine—and mine alone, now." Puck set his face toward the children's house, looking grim. "Come, children. At last, I believe I have some chance of bringing thee safe to home."

  The boys yelped with joy and darted off across the meadow. Fess and Cordelia followed a bit more slowly with the captives, Groghat floating between them, bumping in breezes.

  As they came near the door, Geoffrey looked back to check on his spoils of war and frowned. "They do begin to struggle again, Magnus."

  Groghat and Phebe were thrashing about against their ropes, and Lontar had opened his eyes, squinting against the pain in his chest.

  "'Twill be merciful to restore them to sleep," Cordelia pointed out.

  "Aye, and more safe." Magnus stepped up beside Lontar, glaring down at him. Cordelia let Groghat settle to the ground and rode over to stare at Phebe, and Geoffrey and Gregory took her place near Groghat. They all concentrated, staring at their captives. The thrashing dwindled, then stilled, and the prisoners' eyes closed again.

  The Gallowglasses breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the door.

  Cordelia paused. "Where may we put them?"

  "Only the parlor is large enough." Magnus rubbed his chin.

  Geoffrey clapped his hands. "What could be easier? We'll but clear the table and chairs aside!"

  "Mayhap 'tis not the best…" Puck began, but the children had already darted in. He sighed and followed, hearing the clatter of furniture moving.

  They floated them in by size—Phebe first, then Lontar. Fess lifted his head as the sorcerer's weight came off his back, saying, "Children, your parents might not wish…"

  "What else might we do with them?" Cordelia called over her shoulder as the old man's feet disappeared into the parlor.

  "We might build a shelter," Fess suggested as they came back out.

  Magnus shook his head as he untied Groghat's tow-ropes from the jury-rigged collar. " 'Twould have to be a complete cabin to protect them enough from wind, rain, and chill, Fess. Thou wouldst not have us let them catch their deaths, wouldst thou?"

  '"'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished," Puck answered, eyes flashing as he watched the giant float into the house.

  "Thou art still thirsty for blood, Robin," Cordelia sighed as she passed through the door.

  "And what if I am?" the elf growled to himself. "Better their blood than thine, sweet chucks! Sayest thou not so, Walking Iron?"

  "In some measure," Fess agreed. "But I must admit, I'm glad to see so much of compassion in them."

  Magnus and Cordelia came back out. The boy caught Fess's bridle and led him away toward his stable at the back of the house. "Come now, faithful one! It hath been a long journey. Warm housen and oil for thee now."

  "The rest will be appreciated," Fess sighed. "I have much new data to integrate…"

  They disappeared around the corner of the house. Cordelia turned to her unicorn, and Puck suddenly found something very interesting to study in the patterns of the milkweed that had sprouted by the front door.

  "I must bid thee farewell for now, Beauteous One," Cordelia explained, "for my mother would be even more wroth, did she find thee within doors! And thy quest is done now, is't not?"

  The unicorn nodded, pawing the turf.

  "But oh! Thou wilt not leave me forever, wilt thou?" Cordelia caught the unicorn's head between her palms, gazing up into her eyes. "I shall be so lonely without thee—and shall be forlorn, an I thought thou wert never to see me more! Thou wilt not leave me lorn, wilt thou?"

  The unicorn shook her head, and stepped forward to nuzzle her face and butt her velvet nose against Cordelia's chest.

  "Aye, thou art still my dear one," Cordelia breathed. "Fare-thee-well, then, till I do see thee again!"

  The unicorn stepped back and tossed her head as she turned, cantering away toward the woodland. Just short of the verge, she reared, turning back, and pawed the air, looking directly into Cordelia's eyes; then she turned toward the woodland, her forehooves struck the carpet of dry leaves, and she trotted in among the trees, glimmering in the twilight, and faded from view.

  Cordelia stood gazing after the unicorn with tears in her eyes. "She will not forsake me, will she?"

  "Not so long as thou dost not wish her to," Puck said softly.

  "Oh! How could I ever wish her to!"

  "Thou wouldst not," Puck agreed. "Yet the day may come when thou dost crave some other being with greater yearning."

  Cordelia shook her head with passion. "Nay, never!"

  "Mayhap," Puck sighed, "yet mayhap also… Well! 'Mayhap,' and 'mayhap!'Thy world could drown in so many 'mayhaps,' could it not? And thou wouldst not haply be happy thereby. Nay, come away, child! Thou wilt see thy unicorn many times again, I trow, for a span of years more, belike! Nay, come away—I doubt me not an thy brothers have need of thine aid."

  He turned away toward the doorway, looking up at her expectantly.

  Cordelia smiled down at him through her tears, dried her eyes, and went in.

  She found the three captives laid out on the floor by the fireplace and her brothers staring at one another blankly.

  "Why dost thou stand idle?" Cordelia demanded. "Has the forest taken thy wits, that thou no longer knowest what to do within doors?"

  " 'Tis not even that," Magnus protested. "N
ay, rather—'tis the management of captives that doth concern me. We dare not chance their awakening."

  "There's truth in that," Cordelia admitted, "and who doth know how long 'twill be ere Mama and Papa return?"

  "The more reason to be sure of them, then." Geoffrey darted over to the corner, caught up Papa's walking stick, and stalked over to Groghat, standing beside his head, glowering down. "If he doth flutter an eyelid…"

  "Thou'lt use thy 'sleep spell,' not thy cudgel," Magnus directed. "'Tis safer, and more sure. And I will stand guard over the sorcerer; he might yet give us a bad turn or two." He stepped over beside Lontar.

  "Thou must needs sleep, soon or late," Gregory pointed out.

  Magnus frowned. "'Tis true. Let us bind them more securely. Geoffrey, dost thou know that coil of rope Papa doth keep in the shed?"

  Geoffrey nodded and disappeared with a bang. Air boomed out a moment later, and he was back, a huge coil of rope over his shoulder. He dumped it on the floor and straightened, exhaling. " 'Tis heavy!"

  "Aye," Magnus replied. "Thy pardon; I should have gone."

  "Oh, nay!" Geoffrey said, irked. "Dost thou think me a baby?"

  "Never, brother," Magnus assured him. "Now, then—let us do the giant first, whilst we're fresh. Gregory, thou must bind the knots. Geoffrey and Cordelia, now—UP!"

  They all scowled in fierce concentration. Slowly, Groghat rose three feet off the floor The top end of the rope darted toward him like a striking Snake, whipped about his body, and tied itself in a square knot.

  'Turn, now," Magnus grated.

  All three older children tensed.

  Slowly, Groghat began to turn, then faster and faster, like a table leg on a lathe.

  Gregory frowned at the rope, guiding it as it laid itself in a neat coil all along Groghat's body. When it reached his ankles, he stopped turning, and the rope whipped itself into another knot.

  "Now, down," Magnus directed.

  The giant's body lowered itself to the floor again.

  Cordelia, Geoffrey, and Magnus all heaved a sigh of relief. Geoffrey stepped in to cut the rope with his knife, and stepped back. Then Magnus said, "Now the sorcerer."

  They didn't even scowl; Lontar's scrawny body floated up off the floor easily; the rope tied itself; Lontar began to revolve.