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Marabel and the Book of Fate

Page 17

by Tracy Barrett


  “That’s what true courage is, Marabel—doing what you have to, even when you’re scared.”

  She shook her head. If she was so special, why was she up here on the roof, alone except for Lucius, while hundreds of people cheered Marco as their next king?

  “Magikos needs you,” Lucius said. “Something is disrupting both sides of the kingdom—this side and the Barrens side. It’s as though magic itself is out of balance. Mab has been aware of it for some years, but your father refuses to see the problem.”

  “But why does Magikos need me? Why not Marco? He’s the Chosen One, not me. They can solve the problem themselves. No one would listen to me anyway.”

  Lucius didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “So if you’re not going to fight for your country, what are you going to do now?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t go back to the way I was before—not speaking up for myself and letting everyone tell me what to do. Maybe I’ll go live with the faeries. Or I’ll become a soldier with the goblins. They liked me, and they respected me.” She fingered the bracelet given to her by General Bob Goblin. It reminded her of how she had beaten him in the sword fight. “I think I’d make a good soldier.”

  “You would,” said Lucius, suddenly grim, “but you might not be able to leave here for a while.”

  “What do you mean?” Marabel asked. His tone made her feel cold.

  “You might be needed here.” His gaze was fixed on a point past the castle wall.

  A trumpet blast ripped through the music and revelry below them. The band stopped playing, the people stopped dancing and cheering, and everyone looked up at the watchtower. Then, a shout: “To arms! To arms! Mab has arrived, and the Evils are attacking!”

  Marabel leaned over the parapet, frantic to see what was happening. Lucius took hold of her arm. She tried to jerk free, but stopped when he said in a voice that she recognized from her fencing lessons, a voice that he used only when something was extremely important, “Princess! You must get to safety!”

  They made it down the narrow spiral staircase mere moments before a regiment of archers went thundering past.

  “Where are we going?” Marabel asked Lucius as they raced toward her chamber.

  “You have to lock yourself in your chamber while I find out what’s going on.” His tone was grim. “Mab and her wizard must have begun their attack.”

  A shiver of fear ran up Marabel’s spine. “What will they do?” she asked, panting.

  Lucius shook his head grimly. “Now that she’s lost her hostage, Mab must be desperate and her wizard must be furious. There’s no telling what Veneficus will do if she can’t rein him in.”

  Ellie was waiting in the doorway. She pulled Marabel inside. “What’s happening?” she asked. Marabel shook her head, unable to answer until she caught her breath.

  Lucius strode away, calling back, “Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone you don’t know!”

  Marabel closed the door and turned the key with a trembling hand. Being stuck in her room was a lot more frightening than going out and confronting the problem herself. She handed Ellie the key to help calm her. Ellie twisted it in her fingers. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asked in a tight voice.

  “My aunt is attacking.”

  “Oh no!” Ellie wailed.

  Marabel paced back and forth. It was the middle of the night and they had walked all day, but she was too anxious to feel tired. She wished she could see what was happening outside the castle; not knowing was torture.

  “If only I knew what to do,” she muttered.

  “Do? What do you mean?” Ellie asked.

  “We can’t let them invade the kingdom and break into the palace! Why doesn’t my father even talk to her? We have to do something!”

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Ellie said. “There’s a whole army from the Barrens out there. If the Magikian soldiers can’t defeat them and the priests can’t make them go away, it’s hopeless.”

  “So are you suggesting we should let them do it? Let Mab break in and take Marco again and probably me, too, this time? Veneficus will be so angry we escaped that he’ll turn us into something disgusting.”

  “But how can you stop them?” Ellie asked.

  “We have to find Floriano and Cornelius and get their help. We need to work as a team. It took all three of us to outsmart the trolls, remember? And we found the door in the Wall together! Your suspicions about the man-wolf saved us from him, and without Floriano to unlock all those doors, we’d never have made it through the Wall or out of the giants’ house.”

  “True, we all worked together. But you were the leader, Marabel. Without you, we would have quit long before we found Marco. We would never have made it.”

  Marabel stopped pacing and stood in thought. Was it true? Was she really responsible for the success—up till now, at least—of the rescue? She didn’t know how that could be possible. Marco was the Chosen One, after all—not Marabel.

  Maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe, as she’d hardly dared to begin to think, the Book of Fate really was wrong this time—maybe lots of times. Maybe she had to make her own fate!

  Her heart burned in her chest, and she reached down and drew the sword out of her belt. New courage ran from her heart to her arm all the way to her fingertips, and the wood turned to flashing steel, blazing with an intensity that nearly blinded her.

  “Why is it doing that?” Ellie cried.

  “It’s telling me that I am a good leader!” Marabel exulted. “I may not be the Chosen One foretold by the Book of Fate, but that book doesn’t know everything. Unlock the door, Ellie—I’m going to fight for my kingdom and my family!”

  “Now wait a minute,” Ellie said so firmly that Marabel felt herself deflate a little. “Just wait. You might be a great leader, but you don’t have anyone to lead. Your father’s soldiers aren’t going to follow you. You know they aren’t.”

  Marabel lowered her arm. Ellie was right.

  But then she looked at the bracelet the goblin general had given her. If she ever needed his help, it was now.

  She took a deep breath and said into the bracelet, “Hey, Scari.”

  “Hey, Marabel,” came the reply. “How’re things?”

  “Not so good. Can you call Bob Goblin for me?”

  “What?” Ellie said. “He’s Mab’s general! Why would he help you?”

  “He swore to come to my aid if I ever needed him,” Marabel said. “I’m not going to ask him to betray his leader or fight against his own side or anything like that—I only want to talk to her. Maybe he can help with that.”

  Scari’s mechanical voice said, “Trying Bob G.” Marabel waited for an agonizing moment, and then Scari said, “He’s not picking up. You got his voice-imp. Want to leave a message?”

  “Argh,” Marabel said. “All right. I guess.”

  The general’s voice came out of the bracelet. “This is General Goblin. I’m either on another line or besieging a castle. Your call is important to me, so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. BEEP.”

  “I need your help,” Marabel said into the bracelet. “We’re under attack. Um, call me back when you can. Oh, this is Marabel. In the palace. In Magikos.”

  She looked at Ellie. “Now what?”

  Her bracelet chimed. “Hello?” she said eagerly, hoping it was the general getting back to her, but it was only Scari again.

  “Not any of my business,” the imp said, “but why don’t you talk to him in person?”

  “I’m not in the Barrens anymore,” Marabel said. “I’m at home, in Magikos.”

  “Duh,” said Scari. “Your locator is on. I know exactly where you are. And I know that Bob Goblin is only two hundred thirty-nine point thirteen pebbles away from you.”

  Ellie leaned over Marabel’s wrist. “In what direction?” she asked Scari.

  “Northeast.”

  Ellie’s lips moved slightly as she calculated. She turned sligh
tly and pointed out the window. “Northeast. Marabel, he’s right outside the castle wall.”

  “Let’s go!” Marabel exclaimed.

  Ellie unlocked the door, and they ran through the corridor, down stairs, and up more stairs. As they sped through the final corridor, they heard Cornelius’s voice shouting, “I beg of you, good people, set me free! I can be of assistance! I will parley with the other side for you!”

  They skidded to a halt. Marabel called, “Cornelius! Where are you?”

  A louder flurry of knocks and bangs answered her. She and Ellie followed the sound, and as they rounded a corner, they came upon two guards standing at a door. “Why, it’s little Princess Mar—” one of them started to say, when Marabel pulled out her sword. Not waiting to see if it was wooden or steel, she brandished it in the air.

  “Let him out!” she commanded. They gaped at her without moving.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” she asked. As though her words had released them from an enchantment, they scrambled to do as she said. They fumbled with the key. As soon as the door was unlocked, it popped open, and Cornelius thundered out. Even Marabel and Ellie drew back at the sight of the furious ogre as he picked up the guards like toys and tossed them into the storeroom where he’d been held. The familiar voice of Marabel’s mirror said, “Straighten your garbs and comb your hair! You two look a mess!” before Cornelius slammed the door and tossed a heavy suit of armor in front of it to keep the guards safely inside.

  He turned to them with a smile, looking once more like the sweet Cornelius they knew. “That’s better!” he said, briskly rubbing his hands together. “Whither are you bound?”

  “No time to explain!” Marabel said. “Come with us!”

  They tore down the hallway, through the kitchen, and then out into the kitchen yard. They burst into the stable, ignoring Floriano’s startled “Hey!” as they ran past him.

  “No time to explain!” Marabel called again, and sped into the back room to the tunnel opening. Holding her sword high, she climbed over the rubble of the shattered barricade and plunged into the darkness, followed closely by Cornelius, who said, “Ow!” as he banged his head on the ceiling.

  Marabel glanced behind her. No Ellie. She looked up the stairs to see Ellie’s motionless silhouette, framed in the opening at the top of the tunnel. “Come on!” Marabel called. The Ellie outline shook her head.

  Marabel ran back to the foot of the stairs. “What is it?” she asked impatiently.

  “I can’t,” Ellie croaked. “It was hard enough to go in there when we had a torch. I just can’t do it in the dark, with only the sword-light.”

  Marabel hesitated. She wanted the help of her friends but she couldn’t wait—things were about to get worse. Mab’s army could break through the palace wall at any moment. “I understand, Ellie,” she said. “Find someplace safe to hide. Maybe with Floriano. I’ll be as quick as I can.” She turned and tore through the tunnel.

  She stubbed her toe on something she hoped wasn’t one of the skulls, and blundered through the damp, smelly tunnel. At long last she stumbled into the stairway, where Cornelius was waiting for her. With his help, she climbed the steps and hauled herself out.

  And found herself looking at the backs of Mab’s goblin soldiers. Hundreds of them. The sword-light suddenly dimmed and the goblins didn’t notice Marabel or even Cornelius.

  The Magikian soldiers on the battlements shouted, “Foul beasts! Monstrous Evils! Return to your filthy land! You’ll never vanquish Magikos!”

  From Mab’s soldiers came the shouted retort: “Our queen can beat up your king!”

  Just a few feet away, General Bob Goblin strutted back and forth in front of his troops, giving them a pep talk. He shouted, “What do we want?”

  “A United Magikos!” they thundered.

  “When do we want—” He caught sight of Marabel and stopped abruptly. His eyes widened. The soldiers turned to see what he was staring at, and she couldn’t help shrinking back under the surprised gaze of all those fierce-looking purple faces.

  “What are you doing here?” the general asked in astonishment. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? I thought you were still on the other side of the Wall—we all did! We never saw you on the road. How did you get home so fast through the woods?”

  “We got a ride,” Marabel answered. “No time to explain. I need you to help me. Your queen is trying to attack my family and turn me into a frog and—”

  “Oh, plague it,” the general growled. “I thought you were still on the road. It never crossed my mind you’d get here so fast. I would have found some way to avoid attacking if I’d known you were here. I swore an oath to protect you. What do I do now?”

  Marabel didn’t know how to answer.

  The general groaned. “I need to get this sorted out. I have to obey my queen, and she’s ordered me to storm the palace. But I owe you my life, and it would be dishonorable of me to harm you.”

  Marabel waited while the general scowled in thought, stroking his straggly beard as he gazed at her thoughtfully.

  Finally, he said, “It’s beyond me. I’m taking you to the queen.”

  Marabel hung back. “No way. She’s going to turn me into a frog.”

  “I won’t let her hurt you,” Bob Goblin said. “But she’s my queen and my boss, and I have to hear her side of things. She’ll think of some way to fix this mess.”

  “No!” Marabel shouted. “You don’t understand—she wants to conquer our kingdom!” She turned to run, but the soldiers refused to let her through. She raised her sword to fight her way out of the crowd, but to her dismay, her “weapon” had turned back into wood.

  The goblins laughed. “We’re not afraid of a toothpick!” one of them shouted.

  “Cornelius!” she cried, but he was being held back by a dozen goblins.

  She managed to stick the now-useless sword in her belt before two of the soldiers grabbed her. They dragged her along after Bob Goblin, even though she shrieked and kicked.

  Cornelius tried to convince the goblins to let them go. “Truly, she is a friend to magical beings,” he said earnestly, but the goblins only laughed again and yanked him along, too. Even in her situation, it gave Marabel a tiny twinge of satisfaction to see that it took a dozen goblins, working as hard as they could, to move Cornelius.

  Crowds of what Marabel would have once called “Evils” milled around outside the palace. They parted to let the goblin soldiers through, with General Bob in the lead, and Marabel and Cornelius being hauled behind. Creatures of all sorts stared at her: elves, giants, dragons, faeries and fairies, trolls, witches, wizards, man-wolves, an elegant cat wearing boots and a plumed hat, twelve girls dancing in a circle, a family of bears, lots of gnomes, ogres, manticores, and humans.

  At their head, wearing brilliant white armor, was Mab. She rode a blood-red horse, and her helmet was pushed back, showing her gleaming dark hair and proud face. She appeared to be conferring with a giant, who was bent over, his hands on his thighs, in order to hear her better.

  When Mab spotted General Bob Goblin leading Marabel, her face showed first surprise, then—to Marabel’s confusion—relief, and finally triumphant glee, which turned Marabel’s knees to jelly. She would have crumpled to the ground if the goblins hadn’t been holding her so tightly.

  “How did you get here? And what have you done with my dragon?” Mab demanded. Marabel couldn’t speak. The queen turned to her general. “You found her!”

  “No, ma’am.” He stood next to Marabel. “She found me. And even if you order me to, I can’t harm her. She spared my life when all the rules of combat would have allowed her to kill me.”

  “But I’m your queen!” Mab cried. “And your commander! You must do as I say, or be tossed into the dungeon for the rest of your short, miserable life!”

  The goblin soldiers murmured and stepped near their general.

  “I think not,” Bob Goblin said.

  Mab addressed the giant she had been talking with.
“Sergeant!” she said. “Seize the general and the human girl!”

  The giant straightened, but instead of doing as she said, he put his hands behind his back. He repeated General Bob Goblin’s words: “I think not.”

  Mab looked around wildly. “Will no one obey me?”

  It appeared that no one would. But then a tall, black-clad figure stepped out of the ranks.

  Veneficus.

  t first, the wizard didn’t see Marabel. “What do you require, Your Majesty?” he asked Mab smoothly. They might have been chatting in the throne room instead of besieging a palace.

  Mab pointed wordlessly at Marabel.

  When Veneficus saw her, his lips parted in a thin-lipped smile. He lifted his hand, his long, skinny fingers pointed directly at Marabel’s face. A plume of green light appeared in his palm, and his fingers caressed it, shaping it into a ball, squeezing it until it grew as bright as a torch flame. He breathed some unintelligible words, drew his arm back, and—

  Marabel wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword. Just as Veneficus hurled the green light toward her, she yanked the weapon out of her belt. “Long live Magikos!” she cried, and swung the sword in a wide arc as the ball of light hurtled at her. The blade—gleaming steel again—struck the light with a thwack, and she slammed it away.

  The flaming ball flew up, up, and over the palace wall. It struck a window in the highest tower, and even from that distance, those watching below heard a tinkle of broken glass. And then pale green light shot out the windows and dissipated.

  Marabel remembered what the wizard had said to Mab the day of the kidnapping, about needing time to recharge his magic. Before her aunt had the chance to pull a magical green light from somewhere, Marabel leaped forward. She grabbed Mab and held the tip of her sword against her back.

  “You and I,” she said, barely able to speak over the adrenaline that made her heart thump and her hands shake, “are going to talk.”

 

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