The Rumpelgeist

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘It’s working,’ Lex yelled to Ellin.

  ‘Can you feel its magic?’ Flynn growled.

  Ellin waited for Lex’s reply but had to listen to Grendel’s first.

  ‘Ask me yourself, boy! Of course I can feel its magic. I am its magic.’

  Flynn could see Lex frowning as though deep in concentration. He parried a few blows from the sword, twisting one way and then the next.

  ‘Hurry!’ he yelled to Ellin. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘In a rush to see Her Highness injured? Tsk tsk,’ Grendel admonished. ‘No, Flynn, I have no intention of hurrying. I want to take my time with this – it’s good fun.’

  Flynn grunted, and could feel the beads of sweat erupting on his forehead, running down his back. It was taking almost every ounce of his stamina and concentration to remain focused on the potentially fatal swipes of Grendel’s sword. But he could see Lex mouthing something.

  Ellin in turn repeated it. ‘He’s saying he can. He’s saying he’s learning it.’

  ‘Good,’ Flynn struggled to say as he blocked three hacking blows but he’d been ready for them as he’d watched Lex’s weight shift and watched his friend raise his arms high. ‘Learn!’ Flynn yelled. ‘Then use your magic and take control!’

  Grendel howled his glee. ‘Learn? You poor sod, Flynn. I already am in control with my magic,’ he assured and began a series of low swipes, one of which made Flynn yelp. But although the blade touched him, he’d leapt just in time so that the blood it drew was from a minor scratch rather than a serious injury.

  ‘That was close,’ Ellin breathed, swallowing hard.

  ‘Just keep safe and moving behind me, Your Highness. Hurry!’ he urged at Lex, ignoring the blood, the sting of the cut, and the orchestrations of the sorcerer as he made his magical sword dance.

  Lex was fascinated by how he was beginning to understand the magical sword – how it moved, its strange sounds, its curious power. He was vaguely aware of Grendel’s exaggerated movements as he forced the blade to obey his commands. And until a few moments ago it was all Lex could do to simply hang onto the sword and give Flynn a bit more of a fighting chance to follow its manoeuvres.

  So far, Flynn had not lost focus, his gaze never once leaving the swooping, dashing, keen edge that threatened to injure at every twisty-turning movement. But now Lex was sure he was in tune enough with the sword’s magic that he could penetrate it. In fact, he could feel it pulsing through his hands, his arms, and increasingly his ghostly body, as though becoming part of him. Perhaps there was one bright spot to Grevilya’s evil tampering with his life – and this was it. Serious, academic Lex, whose only ambition in life was to pass his apothecary exams – and who would usually be the one cowering behind the brave swordfighter – might just be the one who saved the life of the Crown Princess. He couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face.

  ‘Don’t overthink it!’ he heard Flynn yell to him, although Grendel continued to believe that Flynn was talking to him. Lex ignored the sorcerer’s taunt back and focused only on his role. He could see everything in sudden and clear, minute detail; Ellin’s feet moving in perfect time with Flynn’s, the vicious blade dancing in his hands, his own deliberate moves that he did his best to flag to Flynn, Grendel waving his arms – alternately cursing Flynn’s luck and muttering more magic words. Most importantly, as Grendel deepened his spell and his movements became more exaggerated, it became easier to take hold of the sword’s ‘mind’, if he could call it that; perhaps he was tapping into Grendel’s mind through the sword? He couldn’t be sure, but whatever was happening he had a sense that the sword might well dance to his tune. He needed it to because with his new-found insight he could see the beads of sweat had gathered to form tiny rivulets to flow down Flynn’s face; his friend was tiring. He was giving it his all, he would surely rather die than beg for quarter from his opponent, but he was slowing and there could only be moments now before the magical sword – which would never weary – would draw serious blood. Lex had no sense of how long Flynn had been defending Ellin but it had been long enough that the blood from his early injury had seeped through his trousers and into his boots, staining both. Yes, it had been long enough, he decided, and now that he looked at Flynn more intently, he could see cuts on his arms too. He was taking a battering, a real punishment from cruel Grendel.

  It was time for Lex to trust his instincts. He gave it a try and deliberately shifted against the pull of the sword’s weight and was rewarded with a screech of outrage behind him from Grendel as the sword seemingly paused in mid-air, unsure who to obey. It decided … It followed him. He tried again, and he could feel it letting go of Grendel’s hold and deferring to his magical grip on it.

  ‘No!’ he heard Grendel whimper. ‘This can’t be happening.’

  Lex watched as Grendel began to hurl incantation after incantation at the sword, but the more he pounded it with his magic, the more the sword absorbed the power and that power flowed into Lex. The magic became his as much as the sword’s, until he could swing it fully away from an exhausted but grinning Flynn.

  ‘You did it!’ he heard Ellin yell, her voice filled with awe and delight.

  Lex thought his invisible-to-most but still very real heart might burst with pride. ‘Thank you, Your Highness,’ he called to where she’d emerged from behind Flynn’s slumped shoulders. Flynn’s smile hadn’t wavered and was pulsing with gratitude. Lex had never felt happier in his life.

  In a deliberate move that he’d seen at sword-fighting exhibitions that his family had dragged him along to, Lex now lowered the magical sword, holding it hilt pointed down, out in front of him. This was the gesture of surrender.

  Flynn’s smile widened. ‘I accept your surrender, Grendel.’

  ‘No!’ the sorcerer screeched again. ‘It’s impossible!’

  ‘The magic is disappearing,’ Lex yelled to Ellin.

  ‘Flynn,’ she murmured. ‘We’ve won. Lex says the magic from the sword is disappearing.’

  Flynn straightened his bearing and sheathed his sword as Grendel began to groan. ‘Grendel, we’ve defied your magic as I promised you we would.’

  The sorcerer seemed to be crumpling in on himself, making mewling sounds of agony. ‘My magic,’ he whimpered. ‘You stole my magic from me.’

  It was Wren who was whooping with delight. ‘I’m free!’ he exclaimed and flew with abandon around them all to show he no longer had a magical rope tied to his ankle. Ellin admired his tiny, unencumbered ankle and Flynn nodded.

  ‘We are happy for you,’ he said.

  ‘What are we going to do with him?’ Ellin said, looking at the suddenly small, old and hunched-over figure of Grendel. He was less than half her size and as round as a ball.

  ‘Make him pay for his sins!’ Wren snapped.

  ‘I believe he already has,’ Davren noted. ‘We can’t let him remain here though. He’s still dangerous, although only in a mild way for a while, I suspect.’

  Flynn scratched his head. ‘We need to imprison him somehow but I don’t think we should lock him up here. We don’t know how long we’ll be.’

  ‘Use his magic!’ Lex suggested.

  Ellin offered Lex’s idea.

  ‘Of course!’ Wren said and flew back into the cottage. He returned soon afterwards. ‘This,’ he said, sounding excited, ‘is perfect!’

  They crowded around the parchment. ‘A spell of winter,’ Davren read, looking around at the others with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘Read on, Dav,’ Ellin encouraged.

  Davren nodded. ‘This incantation will bring instant winter – the very depths of the most frozen moons – to either a district or,’ his gaze slid around again, ‘with slightly different incantation, to an individual.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Flynn said, after giving a low whistle of appreciation.

  ‘It means,’ Wren said, visibly trembling with pleasure, ‘that we can imprison Grendel within a block of ice.’

  ‘You jest,’ Ellin
accused the sprite.

  ‘I don’t, Your Highness, and certainly not where Grendel is concerned. One thing I can say for him, his spellmaking is flawless. This works. I’ve seen it. And it is the perfect prison. He will hibernate like a creature of winter. It is not painful, he will simply sleep until you decide what to do with him.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Davren pressed.

  The sprite nodded. ‘I have no reason to lie.’

  ‘Then you make the spell, King Wren,’ Davren said.

  ‘I’d be glad to,’ the sprite said. ‘Stand back please,’ he warned the others. ‘Hold the spell sheet over there so I can see it,’ he pointed, and then moved to hover over the groaning, still whimpering Grendel.

  Wren took a deep breath and began to say words that none of the others understood, in a language they had never heard. But to their astonishment, fingers of frost began to appear in the ground beneath Grendel. It was slow at first but soon gathered speed as Wren repeated the spell faster and faster. Soon the fingers began to link up and coat Grendel in their frosty shimmer. Layer upon layer of ice crystals formed until a thick block of ice was around Grendel, encapsulating the sorcerer within.

  Ellin clapped while Lex leapt around, whooping and cheering loudly.

  As Flynn watched he felt an odd sensation of light-headedness come over him. It was a strange feeling, as though his mind was being sliced open.

  Hello, said a voice in Flynn’s head. It was Davren. Welcome to the Silvering. I wondered if either you or Ellin possessed the ability to reach this plane. I cast out to you both while everyone’s occupied with magic. I’m sorry Ellin’s power doesn’t include mindlinking, but you seem able to do it with impressive ease.

  I don’t even know how I’m doing it, Flynn said, taken aback. What is it?

  I will explain all later, Davren answered. It’s valuable to know we have this mindlink for the future.

  Flynn felt the space called the Silvering disappear and he snapped back to attention as Wren finished his incantation and hung in the air, momentarily exhausted. ‘It is done,’ he said. ‘He sleeps now.’

  ‘How long will the ice block last?’ Ellin said, touching its glassy, frozen surface in amazement.

  ‘I cannot say,’ Wren said, with a shrug. ‘In the right place, forever. But he is trapped for a while. Curiously, he is safe inside, which is more than he deserves.’

  Flynn nodded. ‘Excellent. Well done, King Wren.’ He bowed graciously.

  ‘Thank you. And now I have somewhere to be,’ the sprite said, and before anyone could say anything more he zipped high into the air, his wings moving so fast they could hear them buzz before he disappeared from sight.

  ‘He’s gone,’ Ellin breathed, disappointed.

  ‘I can’t blame him,’ Flynn admitted. ‘He has obviously been held prisoner here for a long time. I don’t begrudge him his freedom. Lex, you were amazing,’ he said, shifting his gaze to where his rescuer stood empty handed. ‘What happened to your sword?’

  Ellin answered. ‘Lex said it winked out of existence as Grendel’s magic waned.’ She planted a kiss on Flynn’s cheek. ‘Thank you for keeping me safe until it did disappear – you were extremely brave.’ She looked away to where she knew Lex was to thank him again. ‘And thank you, Lex. I agree, you were amazing.’

  Flynn was relieved the Crown Princess had turned in Lex’s direction and did not see how hard he was blushing at her affection. He threw a glance at Davren, determined to find out more about the magical mindlink they shared.

  21

  Starling smiled shyly. ‘And that’s one hundred strokes. Now it’s shining gloriously,’ she said. ‘You look beautiful.’

  ‘Are you being polite to butter me up so you can visit your child?’ the witch responded.

  ‘Oh no, Grevilya. Your hair really does look lovely. Although it is true that I haven’t seen my dear Pipit for six moons. He will have grown so much by now.’

  ‘Sprites don’t ever age much, and you know it. He will barely have changed,’ Grevilya snapped.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the sprite said, her eyes downcast.

  The witch looked at the reflection of the slave sprite hovering behind. She was like an exquisite doll. Grevilya had trapped Starling and her husband Wren by accident, but had decided to keep them anyway. She later discovered they were king and queen of the sprites, which only served to intensify her pleasure at their capture. There was a child, too, Pipit. Grevilya had taken him from Starling’s arms and hidden him. The sprite queen was obedient to Grevilya largely out of fear for her child’s safety. Once every few moons Grevilya permitted Starling to glimpse her child through a mirror, or a puddle. She had sold off the sprite king to the wizard Grendel in exchange for the knowledge she had needed to perfect the invisibility spell, which she’d then tinkered and tweaked and finally adapted to use on Lex and the other children to turn them into ghosts of themselves.

  She thought now about the child Lex. If he was carrying out his task, she would soon be in command of the whole of Drestonia. She despised the royal family, born as they were into privilege and wealth. They deserved none of it. She, on the other hand, deserved adoration; she had something real to offer. According to Simeon, if she wore the crown, every other realm would fear Drestonia’s power.

  If only Grendel hadn’t been so jealous of her, they might have been a royal couple to dazzle.

  Well, she was going to show King Lute and his court where favour should be shown. Lo’s Fire, but she was clever! And beautiful, she thought, pouting to blow her reflection a kiss.

  Nearby the book seemed to moan as though fretting in a deep sleep in which dreams disturbed it.

  The witch turned towards it. ‘The grimoire is agitated,’ she said, frowning. ‘It senses trouble.’ She stood to unlock the cabinet and stroke its cover. ‘There, there, Grimoire,’ she soothed, but the book moaned again, louder this time.

  Grevilya re-locked the cabinet, placing the key inside her girdle.

  ‘You’ll have to sing to the book and calm her,’ she said to her assistant. ‘You seem to have the magic touch, Starling.’

  The sprite queen flew over to the book and began singing a lullaby. Immediately the grimoire was comforted and it sighed softly to itself. Starling flew back to help tie a ribbon into Grevilya’s hair.

  ‘Is Lex trustworthy?’ asked Starling. ‘He’s been gone a while. I worry that he may have told King Lute the truth.’

  Grevilya smirked. ‘Both you and Simeon are far too untrusting of my skills. Lex is lost to himself. He has nowhere to run, no sanctuary to shelter him. Lex wants his life back more than anything. He probably tells himself this is about helping the other children and I don’t doubt he feels a kinship with them, but it’s his life that he grieves over most. I chose him carefully. There is much at stake for Lex. No, even if he is tempted, he will realise that if he wants to become Master Linkey’s apprentice he has no choice but to do my bidding.’

  The witch left her chamber, flouncing down the stairs, with Starling flying soundlessly behind her.

  ‘Where is Simeon anyway?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can find him if you wish?’

  ‘Be gone, sprite,’ Grevilya snapped at Starling, her mood suddenly turning thunderous. ‘Your twittering is giving me a headache. Get on with your chores.’

  She swept out of the old manor house and wandered onto the windswept cliffs overlooking the cove.

  With Donkey no longer having to carefully drag Flynn along, they made rapid progress and were soon far from Grendel’s cottage and the block of ice that contained him.

  After about four hours travelling through light woodland the landscape opened up, became craggy and Ellin could smell the salty tang of the ocean, carried on the wind.

  ‘You appear so well, Flynn,’ Ellin remarked, still finding it hard to believe that the person everyone believed close to death looked so hale. She’d had to tell him the story of his fall twice before he believed it.

  ‘I wish
I could remember what occurred. But it’s blank in my mind,’ Flynn admitted.

  ‘Good. I hope you never recall it. Frightened the daylights out of all of us – me especially.’

  He smiled at her, clearly touched by how much she seemed to care. He switched to a more conversational subject. ‘Can you ride bareback, Your Highness?’ he asked.

  Ellin nodded with excitement. ‘My father forbids it, but Pilo often lets me when we’re out riding alone. He thinks it’s the best way to forge a strong bond with your horse.’

  Flynn grinned. ‘That sounds like Master Pilo. He’s been good to me.’

  ‘That’s because he likes you. You should feel honoured. Pilo likes so few people,’ Ellin said dryly.

  Flynn held her gaze for just a moment longer than necessary. She gave him a soft, tentative smile that made his breath catch.

  ‘Bareback riding aside, my mother thinks I don’t spend enough time at my sewing, of course!’ Ellin said, switching topics, self-consciously.

  Lex gave Flynn a moony expression and clutched his heart.

  Flynn blushed. ‘Codswallop!’ he murmured at him.

  ‘Thank you, Duke Jolien, my thoughts exactly,’ Ellin answered, not looking back from the land rising ahead that would lead them to cliffs she could just spy in the distance. ‘My mother can be easily persuaded by those interfering women.’

  ‘It’s just a different sort of education,’ Davren joined in. ‘No reason you can’t be spectacular at both,’ he added with a smile.

  ‘The problem is, Dav,’ she sighed, ‘I’m really not at all interested in any of the pursuits of a gentlewoman.’

  ‘Perhaps you should just act more interested and then you could deceive them, Highness,’ Lex suggested.

  Ellin laughed and told the others what their friend had suggested.

  They continued travelling until the sun was high in the sky and they had fallen into a comfortable silence. Flynn didn’t think he could ever be happier than in this moment; chewing on the last of their cheese and bread on horseback, away from the palace but out in the open countryside, and best of all he was with Princess Ellin. It was then Flynn noticed the urgency on Lex’s face.