The Magician's Key

by Matthew Cody

  “So you’re saying you were framed?”

  “I admit to the things I’ve done,” said the Piper. “But I haven’t done everything they say I’ve done.” He wrapped his cloak around himself and stared up at the darkening sky. “So there’s a secret for you. Are we friends now?”

  Not a chance was Carter’s silent answer, but instead he stood up and stomped in place, trying to warm his legs and feet. “It’s getting colder.”

  “Why don’t you fetch some more wood for the fire?” said the Piper.

  “Me? How do you know I won’t just run away?”

  “The same way I know you’ll eventually tell me where my pipe is—I know you, Carter. Better than you think.” He pulled his hood down over his eyes and leaned back against the rock. “Besides, you’re not that fast yet and I’d catch you.”

  Carter grimaced. That at least was true. After a full day’s march, he was so tired he didn’t know if he could run at all. He’d started toward a nearby thicket when he heard the Piper call out, “Be careful of hangman’s trees!”

  No need to warn him about that. Still, the Piper was obviously testing him by letting him out of his sight. And despite his confidence, Carter felt like testing him back. Just how far would he let Carter go?

  It was strange. A change had definitely come over the Piper in the past few days, or maybe he was just affecting a change. Maybe he was playacting for Carter’s benefit, but either way he’d been less…threatening than before. He was still petty and impatient and even cruel at times, but Carter didn’t fear him the way he once had. Which was probably dangerous as well. People who get too comfortable handling snakes are the ones who get bit.

  But, still, Carter couldn’t figure out what the Piper’s strategy in all this was. Even if the Piper was telling the truth about the Winter Children, that didn’t make him any less of a villain in Carter’s mind. He may not have stolen away the elves, but he had kidnapped the children of Hamelin. And Max and Carter. If he thought he could win over Carter’s trust now, convince Carter to tell him where his magic pipe was, he could forget it. As it was, Carter was only staying with him because he had nowhere else to run. That was the only reason….

  Absently, Carter found himself rubbing his leg as he walked through the trees. His leg, miraculously healed.

  He was lost in his thoughts when he heard something rustling in the brush just to his left. A little brown face poked itself out of the grass and beamed up at him.

  “Bandybulb!” Carter whispered, surprised and elated to see the little kobold’s face grinning at him.

  “I have been following you,” said Bandybulb. “But the Piper is always watching.”

  “Is Leetha all right?” asked Carter. “Was anyone hurt in the fight?”

  The kobold shook his head. “Leetha suffered a grievous cut on her arm. I tried to bandage it for her, but she refused. After the fifth try, she kicked me in my backside, so I think she is on the mend.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She is resting in a grove. She is not strong enough yet to keep up, so I bring her water and berries when I am not watching you.”

  “That’s good, Bandybulb. Thank you.”

  The little kobold leaned closer and winked conspiratorially. “Are we escaping now?”

  Carter looked back at the little campsite. He couldn’t see the Piper from here—the overhang of rock blocked his view—but he could see the tiny glow of firelight flickering in the dusk. He could do it. He could run, and follow Bandybulb to…where? Assuming he could outrun the Piper, where would he go that he wouldn’t be putting his friends at risk? And with Leetha wounded, he’d just be putting her in even graver danger.

  Carter shook his head. “No, Bandybulb. We aren’t escaping, not yet.”

  The little kobold blinked up at him. “Okay.” He waited for a few moments, then asked, “How about now?”

  “No,” whispered Carter, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. This little creature, dim as he was, had risked everything for Carter and continued to do so even now. “It’s not safe, but I might have a plan. I need you to deliver a message to Leetha for me, Bandybulb. Can you do that?”

  Bandybulb nodded.

  “Tell her that I’ll lead the Piper into the Deep Forest. If Leetha can warn the elves there, then we might be able to capture him.”

  “A sound plan,” said Bandybulb. “I cannot pretend to understand it, but it is most certainly sound.”

  “Only, I need Leetha’s help. I don’t know what the elves will do to me if I’m caught traveling with the Piper.”

  “Elves are dangerous,” said Bandybulb. “And they do not care for human children.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe you remind them of what they lost?”

  Leetha had said something similar, that the elves were more dangerous than Carter believed. But he didn’t see any other choice, short of leading the Piper all the way to Magician’s Landing. At least this way, the only person Carter was putting in danger was himself.

  “Just deliver the message, Bandybulb,” said Carter. “I need to get back before the Piper gets suspicious.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Bandybulb, and the little kobold’s face disappeared into the shrubs. Just as quickly it reappeared. “And I’m glad your leg is better. I have been watching you, and you look happy. That is good!”

  Then the kobold disappeared for the last time, and Carter was left alone with his thoughts. He gathered some wood and hurried back to the camp. The Piper was already asleep, his hood drawn over his face. Carter tossed a few sticks onto the fire and sat down. This plan was reckless. The Piper knew full well that the elves lived in the Deep Forest, and Carter didn’t think he would just walk up to their castle and ask for his pipe back. But maybe Carter could catch him off guard. If the Piper was busy worrying about the elves, he might not worry about Carter. No, it was reckless, but it could still work.

  Perhaps he’d had the analogy wrong before; perhaps Carter was the snake, and the Piper was the one about to get bit.

  But it wasn’t worrying about the plan that kept him awake long into the night. It was something Bandybulb had said, about how Carter had looked happy. He was being held captive, so how could he seem happy? Because these past few days had been about climbing, jumping and running. Despite his protests, Carter hadn’t really felt like a prisoner at all.

  It was with a creeping sense of guilt that he finally lay down to sleep, after building the fire high to drive off the cold. As he drifted off, he thought he saw the Piper’s eyes open beneath his hood, and he was smiling.

  Max sent Harold back to fetch Mrs. Amsel, with orders to gather their things and to meet her at the door. At first she walked, picking her way cautiously through the winding streets. But there was a new urgency in the air, an expectation that something was about to happen. Maybe it was just Max’s imagination, a false hope born out of Harold’s wild speculation, or maybe it was intuition. Either way, she was growing more and more impatient and her steps got quicker and quicker until finally she was dashing through Bordertown. She bumped into a green-skinned family who stepped out onto the street in front of her, causing the youngest to drop her raggedy doll into the mud, but Max kept going. The little elfling burst into tears, but there was barely time for an apology and there certainly wasn’t time to stop.

  Max had to get back to the door.

  Her backpack was slung over her shoulders and she gripped the little key so hard that it bit into her palm. Buildings flew past as she ran, and it didn’t take her long to reach the enormous black door. The discarded and forgotten keys crunched beneath her feet as she approached.

  Max paused, her hands on her knees as she worked to catch her breath. “Okay…Now what?” she said.

  The door was plain black rock, and the picture of the blooming tree was simple, almost childlike. If she looked closely, she could see the seams where the edges met the cavern wall, but there was no handle, no keyhole. And yet standing there felt d
ifferent from standing anywhere else in Bordertown. Different from anywhere else on earth. There was something in the air, like static after a storm, only stronger. The hair on the back of her arms prickled. Closing her eyes, she tried to steel her nerves. She remembered what the captain of the Leviathan had said about thin places between worlds, and she knew then, without a doubt, that the Summer Isle lay just on the other side of the door. If she listened closely, she could hear the wind rustling the trees. She caught a whiff of something sweet, like flowers and honey. Eyes still shut, she reached out her hand, half expecting to feel tall grass tickling her fingertips.

  “Look—there she is.”

  An unfamiliar voice startled her back to her senses, and her eyes popped open. Her hand was just inches from the door, but the wind was gone and all she could smell was the musty rot of Bordertown.

  A crowd had gathered. Apparently, her mad dash through the streets had gotten people’s attention, because there were ten or so elflings and assorted other beings standing in a loose semicircle around her. They did not look happy.

  “Oh,” said Max. “I’m sorry if I bumped into you or anything. My fault.”

  “Look at her ears,” said one of them, a plump woman with long elfling ears and skin the color of sea foam. “I told you.”

  Reflexively, Max reached to pull her hood closer, only to realize that it wasn’t over her head anymore. It must have fallen off during the run. These people had gathered to stare at her perfectly human features, her very round ears. She thought about Cornelius’s warning: No humans allowed.

  “Um…,” said Max.

  “What about her hair?” said another. “Pink as all.”

  “Shows how long it’s been since you’ve been aboveground,” answered the woman. “Pink hair’s nothing unusual these days. You can buy it in a bottle.”

  “Um…,” Max said again.

  “Who are you?” asked one of them.

  “My name’s Max.”

  “You’re not an elfling. Not goblinfolk or giant daughter,” said the woman. “And humans aren’t allowed in Bordertown.”

  “I know,” said Max. “I’m sorry I broke your rule, but I had a good reason—”

  “It’s not a rule—it’s law,” said the woman. “What happens to us if the humans above learn about this place?”

  “The magic protects us,” said a man with cat eyes as he stepped forward. “They can’t find the way in.”

  “She found it!” said the elfling woman, pointing angrily at Max. “The law is the law. I don’t care why she’s here, but she can’t leave.”

  “Look, I’m not going to tell anyone about you,” said Max. “Believe me, I just came here for the door. It’s because of my brother, and my parents….It’s a long story.”

  “And you’ll get a chance to tell it,” said the cat-eyed man. “But Maggie’s right. We can’t let you wander around until we sort this out.”

  “We can put her in the meetinghouse,” said the elfling woman. “Find Cornelius, get the council together and question her there.”

  “Cornelius brought me here!” said Max.

  “Did he, now?” said the cat-eyed man, raising an eyebrow at her. “And did he know what you are?”

  Max could’ve bitten her tongue. She hadn’t exactly lied to Cornelius, but she hadn’t been exactly truthful, either. “Um, it didn’t come up.”

  He narrowed his peculiar eyes at Max. “I think you’d better wait in the meetinghouse.”

  “Where’s that?” asked Max.

  “Center of town,” said the woman. “We’ll take you there.”

  “Look, I have friends who can vouch for me. I came here with a trollson and an elfling.”

  “And where are they?” asked the woman.

  “Well, probably back where the trollsons live. We’re staying with Geldorf.”

  “We know him,” said the cat-eyed man.

  “Yeah, well, they were going to meet me here, so maybe if we just wait…”

  The elfling woman shook her head. “No. We will send someone to get your friends, but you’ll have to come with us. The more people who see you out here, the worse it could get.”

  “So, what, I’m under arrest?”

  “Yes!” said the woman.

  The cat-eyed man took another step closer and lowered his voice so that only Max could hear. “It’s as much for your protection as anything. Maggie and I are both on the town council, along with Cornelius. Trust me, you’ll be safer with us.”

  It didn’t look like they were giving her a choice. And people in the crowd had started murmuring to each other. The green-skinned family she’d bumped into were there, and they didn’t look happy.

  “Lead the way, I guess,” said Max.

  The elfling woman and the cat-eyed man walked on either side of her as they escorted her away from the door and the crowd.

  “If we don’t want any more attention, we’d better take the long way,” said the woman warily. “That crowd could turn ugly.”

  The man glanced at her. “Well, if there’s trouble, you didn’t help things. She can never leave. Honestly, what’s gotten into you, Maggie? Scaring the girl half to death.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” the woman answered without looking at him. “Follow me.”

  Something in the woman’s tone suddenly pricked at Max’s danger sense. She’d assumed they would be able to talk their way out of this—Cornelius certainly seemed like a fair person, and she had friends to vouch for her. But now she got a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she wondered if it wasn’t too late to make a run for it. As if sensing Max’s fears, the woman put a hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t reassuring.

  Swallowing hard, Max allowed herself to be led by the woman and the cat-eyed man, but she was ready to run at the first sign of trouble.

  The woman led them through twisting streets and alleys while the man grumbled that she was succeeding only in getting them lost. Eventually she stopped outside a shack near the very outskirts of town.

  “Maggie?” said the man. “This is your home, isn’t it? What are we doing here?”

  “Just picking up something first,” she said. “I’ll get the door.”

  “Whatever, but we need to hurry,” said the man, and as Maggie opened the door, he stepped inside.

  Max, however, didn’t move, because as soon as the door opened, she caught a familiar whiff of something, the stink of decay.

  Max turned to run, but Maggie blocked her way.

  “Sorry, girl,” said Maggie, and just then a pale hand shot out of the doorway and grabbed Max by the hood. She was yanked backward into the shack, then tossed roughly onto the stone floor. The door slammed shut behind her.

  Max scrambled to her hands and knees, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the candlelight inside the shack. The cat-eyed man was slumped in a corner, unconscious. Behind Max, now standing between her and the door, was Mr. Twist, his dead-eyed stare looking at nothing.

  And seated in a chair directly in front of her was Vodnik the magician.

  The days were growing shorter. The afternoons were still warm October afternoons, and the sun was bright enough to make Carter wish he’d brought a baseball cap with him to the Summer Isle, but it was impossible not to see what was coming. One of these days, very soon, the leaves would fall and the sun would set for real. True night was on its way.

  They were crossing the Dark Moors now, miles of inhospitable terrain just north of the Deep Forest. Even with the sun shining, the moors stayed bleak and depressing. Where the ground wasn’t boggy and sodden with dank water, it was rocky and treacherous underfoot. In time the moors began to give way to sparsely wooded fields, but the trees looked as unwholesome as the moors. Spindly ropewood trees crowded the path, and thorn bushes tore through your clothes and scraped your skin raw as you passed by. But the Piper wouldn’t alter their course. He was determined to avoid the road at all costs.

  “You’re afraid,” said the Piper, startling Car
ter.

  “What?”

  “You’re watching the weather. You’re afraid the Winter’s Moon is coming.”

  Carter held in a sigh of relief. For much of the morning, he had felt the Piper’s eyes watching him, and he’d begun to fear that the Piper knew about Bandybulb’s evening visit, because if he learned about that, then he might suspect that he was walking into a trap. Carter had been dropping hints, some more subtle than others, that the magic pipe was hidden in the Deep Forest. If Bandybulb and Leetha had done as Carter had asked, the elves would be ready for them.

  Carter was terrible at secrets, but the changing weather might’ve given him the perfect cover. If Carter was lucky, the Piper would blame the boy’s nervousness on a kid’s fear of the nighttime and not on the ambush Carter was marching him into.

  “Yeah,” said Carter. “I don’t like the dark. So what?”

  “Remember what happened last time?” said the Piper with a sly smile.

  How could Carter forget? On the last Winter’s Moon, the dark had summoned up a creature from Carter’s worst fears: a gray man—an angry spirit that feeds on children. Carter could still feel the thing’s breath on his face, still smell the stink of rot and death.

  “Think we’ll see him again?” asked the Piper. “I’d be careful wandering away from the campfire, if I were you.”

  What did the Piper mean by that, exactly? Was he referring to Carter’s evening talk with Bandybulb? The Piper might have been toying with him, but Carter had no choice but to play along.

  “Lukas once said that the Watch boys practice not thinking about what they’re afraid of,” said Carter. “When night comes, I’ll just…not think about it.”

  The Piper laughed. “The Watch boys practice not thinking about it, do they? Have you ever tried not thinking about something, Carter? Pops right into your head.”

  He stopped in front of Carter, blocking his path. “Don’t think about a pig.”

  Immediately an image of a squealing pig rooting around in the muck appeared in Carter’s head. He couldn’t help it.