The Warlock is Missing wisoh-7

by Christopher Stasheff

  "Thou'lt not heed him, I trust," came a voice from the hearth.

  The children spun about, startled. "Puck!" Cordelia squealed in delight.

  "Wherefore art thou amazed? Did I not assure thee thou wouldst be guarded?"

  "Truly," Magnus admitted. "Canst thou find a broom for Cordelia, Puck? Then we can fly out the window."

  " 'Tis in the corner, yon. Thou hast but to clean ten years' worth of cobwebs from it."

  "Ugh!" Cordelia flinched at the sight.

  "Art thou so squeamish, then?" Magnus sighed. He went over to pick up the broom and clean it.

  "Puck," Geoffrey asked, "what will the giant do with the maiden, when he doth catch her?"

  "Eat her, belike," Cordelia said wisely.

  "Mayhap summat of the sort," Puck said nervously. "Come, children! We must rescue!"

  "Why, certes, we will," Geoffrey said, surprised, "but wherefore dost thou say we must, Robin?"

  "For that this maiden ever did cry, ' 'Ware, Wee Folk!' ere she did pour out filthy wash-water, and did ever leave a bowl

  of milk by her hearth for the brownies. Shall the Wee Folk desert her now, in her hour of need? Nay!" He raised his voice.

  "Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and

  groves,

  And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime

  Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew! Thine aid she doth

  require,

  Who hath ever paid the tributes which thou dost desire!"

  He was silent a moment, his head cocked to one side; then he gave a satisfied nod. "'Tis well. Come, children."

  He started toward the window. Puzzled, they followed him, Cordelia dragging the broom.

  Howling exploded outside.

  The children stared at one another. "What noise is that?" Magnus cried.

  Geoffrey grinned.

  "Come see," Puck invited as he hopped up to the window-sill.

  The boys levitated, drifting up behind him. Cordelia followed on her broom. They flew out the window, drifting over the woodland to a meadow, bisected by a cow path. A young girl was fleeing away from them, running flat out for all she was worth.

  "The Wee Folk did afright her with the semblance of a bear," Puck explained.

  "It truly doth sound like one." Geoffrey peered down, then slowly grinned. "Whatever thy folk have done, Puck, they have done well!"

  Below them, Groghat was stamping and howling as though he were demented.

  "What have they done?" Cordelia gasped.

  "Only cozened a hiveful of bees into thinking the giant's a

  field of sweet flowers," Puck said innocently.

  "'Tis strong magic indeed." Gregory remembered Groghat's odor.

  "Aye, but if they stop, he'll pursue her—or go home to find thou art gone, and run amok through the woods seeking his captives. And there are still the count and his family in the dungeons, on whom he might wreak his vengeance."

  "Then we must put him to sleep," Magnus said firmly. "Come, Gregory. Where is this thought-path thou hast found?"

  Gregory visualized Groghat's nervous system for them, and they all struck together, a massive stimulation of the solar plexus. Groghat folded as though the wind had been knocked out of him—which it had.

  "He sleeps," Gregory reported.

  "Recall thy bees, Puck," Magnus requested.

  Puck was silent a moment, then smiled as a buzzing cloud lifted from Groghat and headed back into the woods.

  Magnus sat back with a sigh of relief. " 'Tis done."

  "Aye." Geoffrey gazed down at the giant. "Good folk may travel the High Way again."

  "Not yet," Cordelia corrected. "Those loutish robbers do still hide in the forest."

  Geoffrey lifted his head, a slow grin stretching his lips. "Why, then, we'll hale them out!" And he turned away, reaching for his dagger.

  "Thou shalt not!" Puck's hand closed around his wrist. "When thou art grown, thou mayest do as thou dost please, and hazard thyself as thou wilt—yet for now, thou wilt leave such measures to those grown-ups whose office it is!"

  Geoffrey turned back, frowning. "But he lies imprisoned!"

  "Then let us free him!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "Oh, please, Puck!"

  "Certes," the elf agreed. "There should be no danger in that. Yet wilt thou leave thy father's horse for the crows?"

  "Fess!" Cordelia pressed a hand to her lips. "I had forgot!"

  "The bird that could harm Fess must needs be an iron crow," Magnus assured her, grinning. "Naetheless, we assuredly must not leave our stalwart companion. Come, let us seek him."

  He banked away toward the forest, and the others sailed after him.

  The great black horse lay on its side, eyes clouded.

  Cordelia knelt by him. "Pray Heaven he's not truly hurted!"

  "I doubt it quite." Magnus dropped down beside the robot and felt under the saddlehorn for the enlarged vertebra that was the hidden circuit-breaker. "Papa hath told me that Fess's 'brain' is enclosed in padding that can withstand shocks fifty times greater than the pull of the earth… There!"

  The amber eyes cleared. Slowly, the great head lifted. "Whaaat… wherrrre…"

  "Self-diagnostic," Gregory said quickly.

  The robot held still.

  "What hast thou said, sprat?" Geoffrey frowned, worried.

  "I know not—only that 'tis something Papa doth say, when he's afeard Fess may be hurted. What is its meaning, Magnus?"

  "Iddt cuezzz uh brrrogram that eggzamines mmy circuits forr dam-mage," the great black horse put in, "then mmy phyzzical strugdyure. In this instanzze, mmy circuitry is unnn-damaged, and therre izz only a slllight weakening inn mmy left hind leg."

  "Oh!" Cordelia's eyes widened. "How may we mend it?"

  "It is unnn-nezessary ad this tlmme. Stannd aside, dzhil-dren."

  They leaped up and stepped back as Fess lurched, scrambling to his feet. "Yet will not the weakening prove harmful, an thou art embattled?" Geoffrey protested.

  "The probability of such stress-failure is .97," Fess ac-knowledged. "When we return home, I shall see to its replace-ment. Yet for now, I am safe enough." He lifted his head suddenly, looking off toward the north. "Your friend has re-turned, Cordelia."

  They all turned, to see the unicorn step out of the wood. Cordelia ran to embrace her with a glad cry. The unicorn nuz-zled the girl's face, then cocked her head in question. "Gladly!" Cordelia cried, and leaped up sidesaddle. The uni-corn trotted toward the boys, but halted ten yards away.

  Puck smiled, pleased. "Now, children—shall we fetch that count thou dost seek?"

  "And his children," Cordelia added.

  The count was in his dungeon, eating bread and water. His wife was in the cell next door, encouraging her children in

  their efforts to dig their way out with a spoon. She knew they didn't have a chance, but it kept them busy. Needless to say, she was overjoyed when the young Gallowglasses let her out. So was the count.

  "I shall call up my men!" he cried.

  "First thou must needs go back to thine own castle," Magnus reminded him. "Be wary and go by the northern path."

  "Wherefore?"

  "For that we left the giant sleeping by the southern pasture, and he may be wakening now."

  "And we have met a poor old witch in the south who was accursed by a foul sorcerer; we left them sleeping, too," Gregory added.

  "And there is a peasant wench who doth work her wiles to persuade all the young men to join with the Shire-Reeve," Cordelia put in.

  "All this, in a few days' time!" The count shook his head. His lady tactfully didn't mention that she had told him he should pay a little more attention to the monsters in the under-brush.

  "All lie to the south," Magnus explained. "Sin that thou art afoot, we do think thou woulds
t be wisest to go toward the north."

  The count didn't argue. He and his family faded into the forest, moving fast.

  Magnus turned to confer with his brothers, sister, and elves. "The count and his family are freed, and the giant is vanquished; I doubt me not he will prove small trouble, an we can muzzle his master."

  Puck frowned. "Thou speakest of true danger now. These Cold-Iron warlocks have thy father's manner of magic; I ken not how to counter it."

  "Ye couldn't counter a dance step," Kelly scoffed. "Ye don't seek to undo these Cold-Iron spells—ye bedevil the sorcerers!"

  Puck gave him an irked glance. "I've some small experience in that, too. I'd have no fear for my own sake—but 'tis too great a risk for the children."

  Geoffrey lifted his head, incensed, but Gregory said, "They may hold our Mama and Papa."

  The children stared at one another, then at Puck. "'Tis true," Magnus said slowly. "Where else would Papa's enemies

  hold those they've captured, but in their own castle?"

  "They do not use castles," Puck reminded. "They may issue their orders from a manor house, or a church—or even a peasant hut, for all that."

  "For all that, and all that," Kelly grumbled.

  Puck frowned at him. "Of what nation didst thou say thou wert?"

  "Any but yers," Kelly retorted.

  "I prithee, hold," Magnus cried. "If Mama and Papa are prisoners within the keep of these star-warlocks, we must hale them out."

  The room was quiet for a moment; Puck and Kelly exchanged looks of misgiving.

  "We will help thee to find them," Puck said at last, "if thou wilt promise me solemnly to stay in the forest nearby, and never go into the fighting."

  The children exchanged glowers, and Geoffrey looked fit to burst. Finally, though, Magnus said reluctantly, "We do promise, Puck."

  "Most solemnly?"

  "Oh, aye, most solemnly," Geoffrey said in disgust.

  "Well enough, then." Puck nodded, satisfied, and turned away to the dungeon stair. The children followed.

  "Though how," wondered Magnus, "could any prison hold our mother and father?"

  "In drugged slumber," Geoffrey answered. "Come, brother—let us search!"

  Chapter 13

  "Yet wherefore have we gone south again?" Cordelia spoke to Puck, but her eyes were on the brace of partridge that Magnus turned slowly on the spit over the campfire.

  "Aye," Gregory said, and swallowed before he went on. "We have journeyed northward thus far, Puck. Dost thou mean to take us home now?"

  The elf shook his head. "I have an itch in my bones that tells me thou art right to seek thy parents. Whether thou wilt find them or no, thou art right to seek them."

  "Yet rebellions commonly start far from Runnymede," Magnus pointed out as he turned the spit. "Wherefore do we turn our steps once again to the Capitol?"

  "'Tis not a rebellion we face," Puck answered. "'Tis a host of rebellions, and their leaders do wish to topple the throne at first chance. They must, therefore, stay near the Royal Mere."

  Geoffrey nodded. " 'Tis sound."

  "I rejoice that I meet thine approval," Puck said, with withering sarcasm. Geoffrey watched the partridge turn, blithely unwithered. He swallowed, though.

  "Yet surely we're amiss to go farther into the forest," Magnus said, frowning. "Will they not hold their center in the Capitol itself?"

  "Nay," Geoffrey answered, "for no other reason than that we'd seek them there. Puck hath the right of it; they'll as likely be in the forest near Runnymede, as any place else."

  "With modem communications, the 'center' can be anyplace—or many places," Fess explained. "Still, if there is a spies' nest, it would most logically be near Runnymede, as Puck has suggested."

  "Fess agrees with thee," Gregory informed the elf.

  "I have heard," Puck grunted. " 'Tis not witch-folk alone who hear thoughts."

  "Art thou not pleased?"

  "I cry his mercy," the elf said dryly.

  "Have you any method in mind for locating this hypothetical headquarters?" Fess asked.

  "Set a spy to catch a spy," Puck retorted, "and I've more of them than any mortal band."

  Leaves rustled, and two fairies flitted up, close enough to be seen in the firelight.

  "Summer and Fall!" Cordelia cried in delight.

  The two fairies dropped dainty curtsies. "We have come to repay thy good aid."

  "Who did summon thee?" Kelly snorted.

  "Why, the Puck," Summer answered. " 'Tis our wood, do ye not see; we know who moves in it better than any."

  "What doth move?" Puck asked softly.

  Fall turned to him. "'Tis warlocks thou dost seek, is it not?"

  "Warlocks, aye—or sorcerers, more likely."

  "We know of them," said Summer. "They have a great house quite deep in the forest, at the foot of the mountains."

  Puck looked up at Geoffrey. "'Tis but three hours' ride from Runnymede."

  "And I doubt me they would ride," the boy returned.

  "'Tis two days' walk, though, for a mortal," Fall cautioned. "Thou art witch-bairns; can ye travel no faster?"

  Magnus started to answer, then glanced up at Fess.

  "Do not delay for my sake," the robot assured them. "I shall follow your thoughts, and will arrive not long after yourselves. The unicorn, I doubt not, will find Cordelia no matter where she goes. I ask only that you not risk any great hazards till I am with you."

  "We will fly with winged heels," Magnus assured the fairies.

  "Or broomsticks," Summer said, with a smirk.

  It was a big half-timbered house with white stucco that had mellowed to ivory with age—or what looked like age; for "Who would ha' builded a house so deep in the woods?" Magnus asked.

  A hut would have been understandable, maybe even a cottage—but this was a two-story Tudor house with wings enclosing a courtyard.

  "Nay, none would have built here," Geoffrey whispered, with full certainty. " 'Tis Papa's enemies have made this place, and that not much longer ago than Magnus was born."

  "If 'tis so big, it must be ripe for haunting," Cordelia whispered.

  Her brothers looked at her in surprise. Then they began to grin.

  The guard's eyes flicked from screen to screen, from one infrared panorama of the clearing outside the headquarters house to another, over to a graph-screen that showed objects as dots of light on crossed lines, then to a screen that showed sounds as waveforms, then back to the picture screens again. He was bored, but knew the routine was necessary—HQ was safe . only because it was guarded.

  A long, quavering sound began, so low that the guard doubted he'd heard it at first, rising gradually in pitch and loudness to a bass, moaning vibration that shook the whole building. The guard darted a look about him, then whirled to the score of screens that showed views of the inside of the house. Finally, he stabbed at a button and called, "Captain! I'm hearing something!"

  "So am I," a voice answered out of thin air. A moment later, the captain came running up, shouting to make himself heard over the noise. "What is it?"

  But as soon as he started talking, the sound stopped.

  The two men looked about them, waiting. Finally, the captain said, "What in hell was that?"

  "Right," the guard answered. Then he saw the captain's face and said, "Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood."

  "I don't need light moods, I need answers! What did your screens show?"

  "Nothing," the guard said with finality. "Absolutely nothing."

  The captain scowled at the screens. "How about the oscilloscope?"

  "Nothing there either."

  The captian whirled back to him. "But there had to be! That was a noise—it had to show as a waveform!"

  The guard shook his head. "Sorry, Captain. Just the usual night-noise traces."

  "Not the outdoor scope, you idiot! The indoor one!"

  "Nothing there, either." The guard glared at him. "And if we could both hear it, one of th
e mikes should have picked it up."

  They were both silent for a moment, the guard watching the captain, the captain gazing about him, frowning. "What," he said, "makes a noise that people can hear, but microphones can't?"

  "They are worried," Gregory reported, "and afeard, though they hide it."

  "No mortal can fail to fear the unknown," Puck said, grinning. "'Tis bred into thee from thine earliest ancestors, who did first light campfires 'gainst the night."

  They crouched in a dry stream-bed near the house; the stream had been diverted indoors to fill out the water supply. Bracken had grown up in it, enough to cushion the children as they lay against the side on their stomachs.

  "Is that why we waited for night?" Geoffrey asked.

  "It is," Puck answered. "Thy kind fears the dark, though some of ye hide it well."

  "What shall we give them next?" Cordelia asked.

  Puck turned to her with a smirk. "What wouldst thou fear?"

  The captain sat in the watch officer's office, gazing out the window. What could that noise have been? Of course, old houses are always settling—but this house wasn't really old, it just looked that way!

  Well, on the other hand, new houses settle, too—he knew what kind of shoddy workmanship they tried to pass off these days. But settling wouldn't make a noise that lasted so long!

  Outside, something flitted by; he barely saw it out of the corner of his eye. He frowned, peering more closely. There it was again, just a flicker—but enough to need checking! He pivoted in his chair and pressed a touchpoint on his desk. "Check the visual scan, northeast quadrant, quickly!"

  "Checking," the guard's voice responded.

  The captain waited, glaring out the window. There it was once more—still a flicker, but lasting a little longer this time. He could almost make out a form…

  "Nothing," the guard stated.

  The captain cursed and whirled back to the window.

  The shape danced between two tree trunks a hundred-feet

  from the house, at the edge of the security perimeter. It was pale, glowing, and vaguely human in form. In spite of himself the captain felt the hairs trying to stand up on the back of his neck. He was a materialist—he knew nothing could exist if it couldn't be weighed or measured. If he saw it but the cameras didn't, it couldn't really be there; it had to be an hallucination. And that meant…