by Terry Brooks
“Is he the reason I’m being sent to see my grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The wizard shrugged. “He might be more dangerous than he looks. He made some threats.”
“What sort of threats?”
The shaggy white brows knitted together fiercely. “Hard to say; they were rather vague. Rydall wants your father to hand over the crown and let him be King instead. Pure nonsense. But he suggested it might be safer to do as he asked. Your father is looking into it.”
Mistaya was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Who was the other one, the one in the black robes?”
“I don’t know.”
“A magician?”
Questor looked at her, surprise showing on his narrow face. “Yes, perhaps. There was magic there. Did you sense it, too?”
She nodded. “I think I know one of them.”
Surprise turned to astonishment. “You do? How could you?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. I just felt it while standing there on the wall.” She paused. “I thought at first it was the big man, Rydall. But now I’m not sure. It might have been the other.” She shrugged, her interest in the matter fading. “Do you think we will see any bog wumps on the way, Questor?”
They traveled steadily all day, stopping several times to rest the horses and once for lunch, and by sundown they had reached the south end of the Irrylyn. There they set up camp for the night. Mistaya went swimming in the warm waters of the lake, then fished with Abernathy and a couple of the King’s Guards for their dinner. They caught several dozen fish in almost no time, causing Mistaya to complain to the scribe that it was all too easy. While the Guards carried their catch back to the camp to clean and cook, the girl and the dog sat alone on the shores of the lake and looked out across the silver waters as the sun sank in a shimmer of red and pink behind the distant horizon.
“Do you think Mother and Father are in danger, Abernathy?” she asked him when they were alone, her face and voice impossibly serious.
Abernathy considered a moment, then shook his shaggy head. “No, Mistaya, I do not. And even if they are, it will not be the first time. When you are a King and Queen, there is always danger. When you wield power of any kind, for that matter, there is always danger. But your parents are very resourceful people and have survived a good many things. I would not worry for them if I were you.”
She liked his answer and nodded agreeably. “All right, I won’t. Are you and Questor staying with me once we reach Elderew?”
“Only for a day or so. Then we must go back. Your father will have need of us. We cannot be away for very long.”
“No, of course not,” she agreed, rather pleased that she would be on her own. Her grandfather knew magic as well. She wondered what he could be persuaded to teach her. She wondered if he would let her experiment a bit.
A shadowy form crept out of the trees to one side and melted into some bushes that ran along the edge of the lake. Mistaya and Abernathy were seated on a cluster of flat rocks elevated above the bushes and could see anything trying to approach. Neither missed the furtive movement.
“Bog wump?” she asked in an excited whisper.
Abernathy shook his head. “Some sort of wight. Neither very old nor very bright, judging from its lack of circumspection.”
She nudged the scribe lightly. “Bark at him, will you, Abernathy? A good, loud bark?”
“Mistaya …”
“Please? I’ll not pull your ears for the rest of the trip.”
The dog sighed. “Thank you so much.”
“Will you?” she pressed. “Just once? I want to see it jump.”
Abernathy’s jaws worked. “Humph.”
Then he barked, a quick, sharp explosion that shattered the twilight silence. Below, the wight jumped straight out of the bushes in which it was hiding and streaked back into the forest as if launched from a catapult.
Mistaya was in stitches. “That was wonderful! That was so funny! I love it when you do that, Abernathy! It just makes me laugh!”
She gave him a big hug and pulled lightly on his ears. “You make me laugh, you old woolly.”
“Humph,” Abernathy repeated. But he was clearly pleased nevertheless.
The fish cooked up nicely, and dinner was delicious. The members of the little caravan ate together, and everything was quickly consumed. It was better than a picnic, Mistaya concluded. She stayed up late swapping stories with the King’s Guards despite Abernathy’s clear disapproval, and when she finally rolled into her blankets—refusing the down-filled pad brought along for her personal comfort (the King’s Guards, after all, didn’t use them)—she was asleep in moments.
Without knowing why, she woke when it was still dark. Everyone around her was sound asleep, most of them, notably Questor Thews, emitting snores that sounded like rusty gates. She blinked, sat up, and looked about.
A pair of eyes stared back at her from only a few feet away, reflecting bright yellow in the last of the dying firelight.
Mistaya squinted, unafraid. The eyes belonged to a mud puppy. She had never seen one, but she knew what they looked like from the descriptions given by Abernathy in his endless lessons on Landover’s native species. She waited a moment for her vision to sharpen to make sure. The mud puppy waited with her. When she could see clearly, she found herself face to face with an odd creature possessed of a long body colored various shades of brown, short legs with webbed feet, a vaguely rodent sort of face, great floppy dog ears, and a lizard’s smooth, slender tail. Sure enough, a mud puppy, she thought.
She pursed her lips and kissed at it. The mud puppy blinked.
She remembered suddenly that mud puppies were supposed to be fairy creatures. They were rarely seen anywhere in Landover and almost never outside the lake country.
“You are very cute,” she whispered.
The mud puppy wagged its tail in response. It moved off a few paces, then turned back, waiting. Mistaya rose from her blankets. The mud puppy started off again. No mistaking what it wanted, the girl thought. What luck! An adventure already! She pulled on her boots and crept through the sleeping camp in pursuit of her new companion. The mud puppy made certain never to get too far ahead, deliberately leading her on.
She remembered too late that there was a sentry on watch at either end of the camp, and she was on top of one before she could stop herself. But the sentry did not seem to see her. He was staring out into the night, oblivious. First the mud puppy and then Mistaya walked right past him.
Magic! the girl thought, and was excited anew.
The mud puppy took her away from the Irrylyn and into the surrounding woods. They walked quite a long way, navigating a maze of tightly packed trees and thickets, fording streams, descending ravines, and climbing hills. The night was warm and still, and the air was heavy with the smell of pine and jasmine. Crickets chirped, and small rodents scurried about in the brush. Mistaya studied everything, listened to everything, letting nothing escape her. She had no idea where she was going but was not worried about finding her way back. She was thinking that the mud puppy was taking her to someone, and she was hoping that it was a creature of magic.
Finally they reached a clearing in which a broad swath of moonlight glimmered off a grassy stretch of marsh that marked the end of a stream’s downhill run from some distant spring. The water was choked with grasses and night-blooming lilies and was as smooth as glass. The mud puppy moved to within a few feet of its edge and sat down. Mistaya walked up beside him and waited.
The wait was a short one. Almost immediately the waters of the marsh stirred, then parted as something beneath their surface began to lift into view. It was a woman formed all of mud, slick and smooth and dark as she took shape. She rose to tower over Mistaya, much larger than any woman the girl had ever seen, her lush form shimmering with dampness in the moonlight. She stood on the waters of the pond as if they were solid ground, and her eyes opened and found Mistaya’s own.
“
Hello, Mistaya,” she greeted in a soft, rich voice that whispered of damp earth and cool shadows.
“Hello,” Mistaya replied.
“I am the Earth Mother,” the woman said. “I am a friend of your mother. Has she told you of me?”
Mistaya nodded. “You were her best friend when she was a little girl. You told her about my father before he came into Landover. You help take care of the land and the things that live on it. You can do magic.”
The Earth Mother laughed softly. “Some little magic. Most of what I do is simply hard work. Do you like magic, then?”
“Yes, very much. But I am not allowed to use it.”
“Because it is dangerous for you.”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t believe that?”
Mistaya hesitated. “It is not so much that I don’t believe it. It is more that I don’t see how I can learn to protect myself from its dangers if I never get to use it.”
The eyes gleamed like silver pools. “A good answer. Ignorance does not protect; knowledge protects. Did you know, Mistaya, that I helped your mother prepare for your birth? I gave her the task of gathering the soils out of which you were born. I did that because I knew something about you that your mother did not. I knew that magic would be a very important part of your life and that you could not protect yourself from its effects if its elements did not constitute a part of your body. You required earth from the fairy mists as well as from your father’s and mother’s lands.”
“Am I a fairy creature?” Mistaya asked quickly.
The Earth Mother shook her head. “You are not so easily defined, child,” she answered. “You are not simply one thing or the other but a mix of several. You are special. There is no one like you in all of Landover. What do you think of that?”
Mistaya thought. “I suppose I shall have to get used to it.”
“That will not be so easy to do,” the Earth Mother continued. “There will be obstacles for you to overcome at every turn. You may think that growing up has been difficult, but it will become more difficult still. There are hard lessons ahead for you. There are trials that may undo you if you are not careful. Experience is the necessary teacher for all children growing to adulthood, filled with revelations and discoveries, with disappointments and rewards, and with successes and failures. The trick is in finding a balance to it all and then surviving to turn knowledge into wisdom. This will be doubly hard for you, Mistaya, because yours will be the lessons and trials of three worlds, and you must be especially careful how you go.”
“I am not afraid,” Mistaya said bravely.
“I can tell this is so.”
Mistaya frowned thoughtfully. “Earth Mother, can you see what lies ahead for me? Can you see the future?”
The Earth Mother’s silver eyes closed and opened slowly like a cat’s. “Oh, child, I wish I could. How easy life would be. But I cannot. What I see are possibilities. The future may be this or that. Usually it may be a handful of things. I see glimpses of dark clouds and rainbows in the lives of those who inhabit my land, and sometimes I can forestall or alter what might be. The future is never fixed, Mistaya. For each of us it is an empty canvas on which we must paint our lives.”
“Mother and Father believe we are in danger,” the girl said. “Is it true?”
“It is,” the Earth Mother answered. “One of those dark clouds of which I spoke comes toward you. It will test your resolve and challenge your insight. It looks to be a very black cloud indeed, and you must be wary of it. It is for this reason I brought you here to me tonight.”
“To warn me?”
“More than that, Mistaya. You have already been warned, and my own warning adds nothing.” The Earth Mother shimmered as one arm rose to point. “The mud puppy who brought you to me is called Haltwhistle. He has served me long and well. Your mother has known him since she was a child. Haltwhistle is a fairy creature, come from the mists once upon a time to be my companion. Mud puppies are able to live both in and out of the mists and serve who they choose. They are independent in making their choice and loyal ever after. They have a very powerful form of fairy magic at their command. It is a good magic, a magic of healing. It counteracts magics that are used to harm or destroy. It cannot protect against them completely, but it can alter their effects so that they are not so severe. Haltwhistle’s magic does this for those he serves and sometimes for their friends.”
Mistaya glanced down at Haltwhistle, who was looking up at her with great, soulful eyes. “He seems very nice,” she said.
“He is yours now,” the Earth Mother said gently. “I give him to you for the time it takes for you to grow to womanhood. While you grow, Haltwhistle will be your companion and protector. He will keep you safe from some of the harm that might be done by those dark clouds that come into your life.”
Her arm fell away in a shimmer of moonlight. “But understand this, Mistaya. Haltwhistle cannot protect you against everything. No one can do that. If dark magic is used to harm you, he can become your shield. But if the dark magic is your own, he can do nothing to help you. What you choose to do with your life must be your responsibility. The consequences of your acts and decisions must be your own. You will make mistakes and engage in foolish behavior, and Haltwhistle will not be able to stop you. These are the lessons of growing up that you must endure.”
Mistaya’s brow furrowed, and her mouth tightened. “I shall not make mistakes or behave foolishly if I can help it,” she insisted. “I shall be careful of my choices, Earth Mother.”
The other’s strange eyes seemed suddenly sad. “You will do the best you can, child. Do not expect more.”
Mistaya thought. “Have I magic that will help me?” she asked impulsively. “Magic of my own?”
“Yes, Mistaya, you do. And perhaps it will help you. But it may also cause you harm. You are at some risk should you choose to use it.”
“But I don’t even know what it is. How can I use it? How can it hurt me?”
“In time,” the Earth Mother said, “you will learn.”
Mistaya sighed impatiently. “Now you sound like Father.”
“It is time for you to go back,” the Earth Mother advised, ignoring her complaint. “Before you do, there are a few things you must know about Haltwhistle. He will always be with you, but you will not always see him. He keeps watch over you as he deems best, so do not despair if from time to time you cannot find him. Also, you must never try to touch him. Mud puppies are not meant to be touched. Be warned. Finally, remember this. Haltwhistle requires neither food nor water from you. He will look after himself. But you must speak his name at least once each day. It may be spoken in any way you choose, but you must say it. If you fail to do so, you risk losing him. If he does not feel needed, he will leave you and come back to me. Do you understand all this?”
Mistaya nodded firmly. “I do, Earth Mother. Haltwhistle will be well cared for.” She caught herself. “Earth Mother, I am traveling to see my grandfather in the lake country. What if he will not allow Haltwhistle into his home? He is a very stern man and quite strict about some things.”
“Do not worry, child,” the Earth Mother assured her. “Mud puppies are fairy creatures. They come and go when and where they choose. They cannot be kept out of any place they wish to visit unless powerful magic is used. Haltwhistle will be with you wherever you go.”
Mistaya glanced down at the mud puppy and smiled. “Thank you, Earth Mother. Thank you for Haltwhistle. I love him already.”
“Good-bye, Mistaya.” The Earth Mother began to sink back down into the ooze. “Remember what I have told you, child.”
“I will,” Mistaya called back. “Good-bye.” Then she shouted, “Wait! When will I see you again?”
But the elemental was already gone, disappeared into the earth. The marsh shimmered faintly with small ripples in the moonlight where she had stood. The clearing was empty and silent.
Mistaya was suddenly sleepy again. It had been a wonderful adventure
, and she was looking forward to more. She yawned and stretched, then smiled down at Haltwhistle. “Are you tired, too?” she asked softly. Haltwhistle stared at her. “Let’s go back to sleep. Okay, boy?”
Haltwhistle wagged his tail tentatively. He didn’t seem all that sure it was.
But Mistaya was already walking away, so the mud puppy dutifully followed after. Together, they went back through the woods toward the camp and the fate that was waiting for them.
SPELL CAST
The crow with the red eyes, who in human form was Nightshade, sat high in the branches of a shagbark hickory and watched Mistaya return out of the nighttime woods. The girl materialized abruptly, a silent, stealthy shadow. Made blind to her presence by the Earth Mother’s magic, the sentries did not spy her, staring right through her as she passed, as if there were nothing to see. The girl moved quickly to her blanket, wrapped it about herself, lay down, and closed her eyes. In seconds she was asleep.
The crow cast a sharp eye across the clearing and into the woods beyond. There was no sign of the mud puppy. Well and good.
The presence of the mud puppy had upset Nightshade’s plans. She had not anticipated its appearance and still did not know its particular purpose. She was aware that it served the Earth Mother, of course, but that did not explain what had brought it to the girl. A summons from the Earth Mother? Possibly. Probably, as a matter of fact. But why had the Earth Mother summoned the girl this night? Did she know of Nightshade’s intent? Had she warned the girl in some way? None of this seemed likely. Just as Nightshade could not penetrate the Earth Mother’s magic to discover why she had dispatched the mud puppy, neither could the Earth Mother penetrate Nightshade’s magic to reveal what lay in store for the girl. Either could gain a sense of what the other was about, but no more than that. It was a stalemate of sorts. So any attempt to follow the mud puppy and the girl in an effort to discover what the Earth Mother intended would have been quickly thwarted. Worse, it would have revealed Nightshade’s presence in the lake country, and that could easily have ruined everything.
