by Jim Hines
“All right. I’m sorry for taking up your time.” Dad hesitated, then added, “There was one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You shouldn’t have cursed my daughter.”
Tamora had never heard such anger in her father’s voice. The twang of bowstrings punctuated his words. Ms. Anna yelped. Pix wings buzzed like lawn mowers. A second later came the shouts of charging goblins, and the slap of their feet against the driveway and sidewalk.
“For Starflight,” shouted one of the pix.
“Your poisons won’t work on—” Ms. Anna’s taunt changed to a cry of pain.
“That’s why I brought pepper spray,” said Dad. “Grab her arms! Don’t let her use that knife!”
A crack like thunder followed. Goblins yelled in alarm.
“Dad, what happened?” Tamora heard the front door slam, and the lock click. The phone was obviously working, but he didn’t answer.
“Easy, lass,” said Vernors. “I hear the elf’s thrice-cursed feet tromping this way.”
Tamora fought back tears. “Her cover’s blown. She’ll be coming to check the willow. Maybe even to retreat to Bansa.” She readied her bat. “Remember, your arrows won’t knock her out, so aim for where you can do the most damage.”
Vernors snorted. “Don’t tell a troll how to dig tunnels, and don’t tell a pix how to shoot a bow.”
The back door opened, and Ms. Anna strode through…directly into the swing of Tamora’s softball bat.
The first hit was to Ms. Anna’s knees. She screamed and stumbled. One hand came up, and a pix put an arrow into her palm. Goblins swarmed her from both sides.
Ms. Anna raised her blue-stone knife and swung wildly. Tears poured from her squinting eyes. Orange pepper spray dripped down her face, powerful and pungent enough to make Tamora’s eyes water.
She cracked her bat onto the elf’s forearm. The knife clattered away. Ms. Anna lunged for it, but Tamora hit her with a body block that knocked her onto her side.
Gulk raised a long, aluminum-handled rescue hook he’d taken from beside the pool. He slammed the end of the pole down on Ms. Anna’s chest, knocking the wind from her.
Another goblin piled onto her legs. Pukwuk knelt on her arm and pressed the edge of her bread knife to the elf’s throat. Pix buzzed closer, their bows drawn.
“I saw what you did to Starflight,” Vernors said quietly. “He was a warrior, a leader, and a friend. He deserved better. Believe me when I say I’ll happily put my next two arrows through your eyes if you so much as twitch.”
“I believe you,” Ms. Anna said calmly, though tears and mucus continued to drip down her face.
“Goblins win?” Gulk looked confused, like “winning” was a foreign concept.
“You’re looking well, Tamora,” said Ms. Anna. “How did you counter my spell?”
“Maybe you’re not as good at magic as you thought.” To Gulk, she said, “Get Mac. Tell him to bring the duct tape.”
The goblin scampered off.
“What happened to my father?” she asked.
“The same thing that happened to your pix friends at the skating rink.”
Tamora raised her bat.
“He’s not dead,” Ms. Anna added hastily. “He fell into the bushes. There shouldn’t be a crack on him. But if you want him back, you’ll let me go.”
“I can’t,” said Tamora.
“Then your father is as good as dead.”
No, no, no! She couldn’t leave Dad to spend the rest of his existence as a statue. But she couldn’t abandon Andre and Kevin and Lizzy to die, either.
Distressed moans preceded Mac’s arrival. He clutched a roll of duct tape in both hands, but it looked like he’d left his iPad behind. He rocked and shook as he walked, on the verge of a total meltdown.
Tamora hurried toward him. “Mac, listen to me. I know what she did to Dad. We’ll figure this out together.”
He shook his head and continued to rock in place.
“You?” Ms. Anna laughed. “You’re humans. Children.”
Tamora spun. “That’s right. We’re the humans who found your portal. Who beat your dragon. Who countered your spell. We’re the humans who beat you, and we’re the humans who are going to save my father and stop your queen.”
She took the duct tape from her brother and tore off a strip. “And I’m the human who’s really sick of your voice.”
* * *
By the time Tamora finished with the tape, Ms. Anna looked like a shiny gray mummy. Her arms were bound at the wrists and elbows, and taped to her torso. Her legs were wrapped from ankle to mid-thigh. Duct tape covered her mouth. Even her fingers were trapped in gray mittens of tape. If that didn’t stop her from using magic, nothing would.
Tamora handed the now-significantly-smaller roll of duct tape to Gulk, who cradled it in his hands and said, “Powerful tape. Made from ducks?”
“It’s not duck tape, it’s—never mind.” Tamora picked up the blue knife and held it in front of Ms. Anna’s face. “You used this to curse those two pix. This is your wand, isn’t it? I’m betting it’s also the key to opening the portal.”
Ms. Anna didn’t react.
“I think it is, yes.” Karina Lord emerged from the house, followed by Mac. She wore a too-small cheerleading sweatshirt and rumpled shorts, and had a bit of white down stuck to her hair. She wrapped Tamora in a tight hug. “I’m sorry I got so angry before. I didn’t want to believe you could be right about Ms. A, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and finally I asked her, and she pulled out that knife—”
“I’m sorry too,” said Tamora.
“Thank you for finding me.”
“It was Mac who figured out how to change us back,” said Tamora.
“I know.” She spun and hugged Mac. “He helped me sort through my closet until we found my old cheer sweatshirt from sixth grade.”
“Karina, do you know how to counter Ms. Anna’s spells?” asked Tamora. “She transformed my Dad to glass, like she did those goblins by the willow.”
“Oh my God.” Karina’s face clouded with anger. She glared down at Ms. Anna. “I’m so sorry, Tamora. I don’t know how to fix this.”
Mac moaned again.
Karina nudged the elf’s shoulder with her toe. “My father is so going to fire you.”
“Where is your father?” asked Tamora.
“Los Angeles. I called him a minute ago. He was talking about a meeting he was supposed to attend, but he couldn’t remember who it was with or why he’d had to fly out so suddenly. I think Ms. Anna enchanted him to keep him away. I said I’d gotten a call that his meeting was canceled. He’ll be home tomorrow morning. I didn’t tell him anything else. He wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”
Ms. Anna was far too calm. Like she was still expecting to win. Tamora’s fingers curled into fists. “Karina, you said Ms. Anna lives with you?”
Karina nodded.
“Does she have her own computer in her room?”
Another nod. “Why do you ask?”
“Don’t think. Just answer.” She waited to make sure Karina understood, then started firing more questions. “How long has she worked for your family?”
“Ever since we moved here.”
“What time does your father’s flight get in?”
“Around ten.”
“What’s Ms. Anna’s password?”
“‘Legolas4ever,’ all one word, with the number four.”
Ms. Anna’s cheeks reddened. She glared hatefully at Karina.
“You didn’t know?” asked Tamora. “Karina can do magic too.”
“Why do you need to get into her computer?” asked Karina.
“I’ll show you.”
Chapter 17: Doorway to Bansa
Ms. Anna’s room was on the second floor. It looked innocent enough, with floral wallpaper, dark wood furniture, framed nature prints, and a large window looking out on the trees and river. A silver laptop sat on a small wooden desk in the
corner.
Gulk took one step through the doorway and gagged. “Stinks like elf farts and magic.”
Wings buzzed as a group of pix dropped Ms. Anna’s bound body onto the neatly-made bed. Tamora started to sit at the desk, then caught herself. She turned to Ms. Anna. “Are there any traps or spells on that computer? If anything hurts me, the goblins have my permission to eat you.”
Ms. Anna sighed, then nodded. The pix dragged her to the desk, where she pointed her nose toward a small twig sitting behind the laptop.
“Probably a memory spell,” said Vernors. “Get too close, and you forget what you were doing. It’d protect her composter—her copulator—whatever that thing is, but it wouldn’t hurt anyone or raise folks’ suspicions.”
“How do you get rid of it?” asked Tamora.
Pukwuk shoved Tamora aside and slammed her bread knife down, cutting the twig in two. Wisps of smoke rose from the ends. The goblin blinked and stared at the twig. “What happened?”
“Crude, but that ought to do it,” said Vernors.
Pukwuk studied the knife in her hand. “Did Pukwuk just fight twig?”
“Yes,” said Tamora. “And you won. Thank you.”
“Pukwuk, slayer of twigs!” The goblin sniffed and wandered into the hallway. “Strange palace. Where are we? Stinks like magic.”
“Someone keep an eye on Pukwuk so she doesn’t run out into traffic or pick a fight with a toilet or anything.” Tamora turned on the laptop. The password Karina had given worked perfectly, and it didn’t take long for Tamora to find the files she was expecting. In addition to the Dragon’s War IV expansion pack, she found a pdf of violin sheet music and an mp3 file marked Mozart Remix. “Karina, didn’t you say Kevin liked to listen to classical music?”
“That’s right.”
Vernors walked across the desk to peer at the laptop screen. She waved a hand in front of it, then poked one of the icons with her finger. “How the blazes do you work this magic window?”
“It’s not magic,” Tamora said. “I just opened her Recent Documents menu. Ms. Anna sent Andre the game patch. She must have added her melody to this Mozart file for Kevin. Lizzy plays the violin, so she got the sheet music. Once they listened to these songs, they were primed for the second half of the spell.”
Tamora plugged her Dad’s earbuds into the laptop, then looked over her shoulder at Ms. Anna. “I wonder if that same music will work on an elf.”
Ms. Anna started to twist and squirm.
Goblins piled onto the bed to hold Ms. Anna in place. Tamora brought the laptop over. Vernors shoved the earbuds into Ms. Anna’s ears.
“Let’s find out,” Tamora said, and double-clicked the first mp3.
* * *
There was only one way to test if the magic had worked. Mac climbed into the truck and reached behind the passenger seat to retrieve the flute.
Karina grimaced as she took it. “What happened to this?”
“You probably don’t want to know,” said Tamora. “I’m sorry. I tried to clean it.”
“I can’t believe Ms. A did all this. We trusted her.”
“I know.” Tamora turned toward her father. He lay half-submerged in the bushes next to the porch. Every wisp of hair was a long, perfectly-formed sliver of glass. Some of it had broken in the fall, but he was otherwise intact. “We’re going to fix this, Dad.”
His eyes were open. He’d raised one hand to shield his face. The other was thrust into the bush to break his fall. Was he conscious? Could he see and hear what went on around him?
“What if Karina can’t control her?” Mac asked.
“I can do this.” Karina sounded calmer than Tamora had ever heard. She ran her fingers over the instrument. “I can hear its song. Ms. Anna used it, but this is my flute, and it wants to be played.”
Tamora clutched the knife they’d taken from Ms. Anna. The wood was warm to the touch, while the blade was cold as a flagpole in midwinter. She half-expected it to frost over.
“You should stay here,” Karina said softly. “You heard the soundtrack Ms. Anna made for Andre. You’d be vulnerable too. Mac, would you come with me?”
He nodded.
Karina squeezed Tamora’s shoulder. “You and Mac and Mr. Carter saved me.”
“Gulk helped,” the goblin piped up.
“Yes.” Karina smiled. “It’s my turn now. We’ll save him. I promise.”
Tamora watched them go inside.
“Elves all bad.” Gulk looked down at her father, and his body slumped. “Kill goblins. Kill pix. Kill humans.”
“They can’t all be evil,” Tamora sat and hugged her knees to her chest. “Aren’t there any elves who don’t want war? You left your world to get away. Where are the elves who did the same?”
“Probably killed by other stupid elves.”
She sniffed. “I’m sorry, Dad. I just wanted to help my friends.”
“And goblins?” added Gulk.
That earned a sad, quiet chuckle. “That’s what I said. My friends.”
Gulk’s eyes grew wide. “Good queen.”
“Yeah, right.” Tamora snorted. “You and Mac had to rescue me at the zoo, remember? I can’t do magic. I don’t know how to open the portal and get you home…”
“Stupid queen.” Gulk waved his arms. “Gulk doesn’t want to go home. No pup tarts in Bansa.”
“Why me, Gulk? Why would you want a human as queen of the goblins?”
“Goblins too greedy. Elves too…elf.”
“So let Karina be queen. Or Mac. He knows more about this stuff than I do. He’d make a good queen.”
“Stupid queen,” Gulk said again. “Queen isn’t smartest. Queen isn’t best fighter. Queen isn’t magic. Queen is protector. Queen Tamora protected loud tiny dogs from goblins. Protected house and brother from goblins, with giant fluffy scary dog. Protected goblins and pix from dragon.”
“I didn’t protect my father.”
“Can’t protect everyone.” Gulk shrugged. “Still good queen. Maybe protect him later.”
She nodded, simultaneously warmed and frightened by the goblin’s words. He believed she would protect them. What if he was wrong?
Footsteps saved her from having to find an answer. Karina stepped out, gripping her flute in both hands. She swayed on her feet. Tamora jumped to catch her arm. At the same time, a pair of pix swooped to grab her shoulders.
“I think it worked.” Karina giggled. “I played the theme from the Flintstones. We’d been practicing it in band. I told Ms. Anna to cooperate with whatever you, Mac, or I say.”
And then she collapsed.
* * *
Two pix set Karina on the couch in the living room, where she began to snore. After making sure she was all right, Tamora and Mac headed upstairs to Ms. Anna’s room.
“What happened to Karina? Why did she pass out?” Tamora peeled away just enough of the duct tape to allow Ms. Anna to answer.
“Magic drains the strength of the caster. The girl can’t be expected to perform at the same level as an elf. But for a human, she’s done quite well. Her willpower is impressive, particularly given her lack of training. I’m proud of her.”
Ms. Anna seemed fully cooperative, courtesy of Karina’s magic, but Tamora didn’t trust her. Judging from the number of weapons pointed in Ms. Anna’s direction, neither did anyone else.
“She’ll be all right?” asked Mac, rocking in place.
“Strength of will is like any other muscle. Overuse it, and you need rest to recover. She’ll be fine.”
Tamora raised Ms. Anna’s knife. “Is this the key to the portal?”
“Stab the blade into the trunk of the tree and cut downward. It will hold the gateway open so long as the blade remains lodged in the wood. Remove it, and the portal is instantly sealed.”
“Gulk said time passes faster in Bansa,” said Tamora. “That Andre and the others had been there for a year, even though they only disappeared a few weeks ago. What happens when we step through?”
“Nothing, so long as the portal remains open.” When nobody spoke, Ms. Anna sighed. “Imagine two rivers flowing next to one another, separated by a wall. One river flows quickly, the other slowly. Break a hole in that wall, and water rushes through, swirling and chaotic on both sides.”
“What does that mean?” asked Tamora.
“It means while the portal is open, the passage of time on either side should…equalize, more or less. Depending on the eddies and currents.”
“Then we’ll have to be quick. How do I use this knife to help my Dad—and everyone else you transformed to glass?”
“The counterspells take a great deal of time, and are beyond the abilities of your small human mind. I could eventually restore them, if you freed me from my bonds.”
“Not gonna happen,” said Vernors, whose bow remained drawn.
“A wise precaution,” Ms. Anna agreed. “The simpler way to reverse the effects is to destroy the instrument used to create them. Break the knife, and its spells dissolve.”
Tamora turned the knife over, examining the razor-sharp line of the blade. She wanted to smash it with her bat right there. “But if I break it, we can’t open the portal.”
The elf smiled. “That’s true.”
“What about the flute? You used it on Andre and the others. If we destroy it—”
“The humans’ wills and souls will once again be their own.”
“And yours,” said Mac.
“We could destroy the flute now,” said Vernors. “Break the spell on your friends in our world—”
“While they’re surrounded by elves?” Tamora shook her head. “They’d be killed.”
“They’ll be killed anyway,” said Ms. Anna.
Mac set his iPad on the desk and moaned, smacking his head repeatedly into his hands.
Gulk inched closer to Tamora. “Why is human fighting himself?”
“He’s upset.” Mac hadn’t done this in years. When he was much younger, he’d occasionally bang his head against walls and furniture when he was overwhelmed. “Mac, do you want to go downstairs with Karina? It will be quieter.”
He shook his head hard.
“Would you rather stay with Dad while I go to the willow and—”
