by PAMELA DEAN
“It’s Randolph who gives fencing lessons,” Ted told her as they made for a little fir-wood on the mountain side of their valley.
“Randolph already said no,” said Ellen. She was the only one who seemed angry with Ted for the interruption; Patrick had said “About time,” and Ruth, “Thank goodness.” Laura, as usual, said nothing.
Arriving at the edge of the fir-wood, they sat down in a drift of pine needles, leaned their backs against convenient trees, rooted a few cones and sticks out of the way, and looked expectantly at Ted.
CHAPTER 16
“ALL right,” said Ted, “first, Ruthie, thank you very much for getting me out. I didn’t like it down there.”
“What was it like?” asked Ellen, but Ruth interrupted her.
“I didn’t,” she said.
“What?”
“I didn’t get you out.” Ruth began shredding a pine cone. “Randolph came and got Fence and me and took us back to where you were. You looked horrible. Ted, if I’d known it would be like that I don’t think I’d have agreed that we should come to the battle. Did it hurt?”
“Never mind,” said Ted, putting a hand to the solid substance of his chest; something had lurched inside him. “I wouldn’t have agreed either, believe me. Just what do you mean you didn’t get me out?”
“I said the spell—that’s all you do, just say it. The trick is to know where to find the spell, and to know what to do once you’ve said it. A voice answered, coming out of nowhere, and said we must choose a ground whereon we might have speech of one another. It told us to choose between the sea and the Well of the White Witch. I figured we should stick to what we knew, so I said the Well.”
“I don’t know,” said Ted, “the Well doesn’t seem to like you.”
“I said the Well,” repeated Ruth. “A wind came up and blew sand in our faces, and when it died down we were standing right where I was when Ellie and I were using Shan’s Ring to change the time, and I got into the place that looked wrong. Remember, I told you about it: with the army camped by the Well, and the sky the wrong color and the air all shimmery?”
“Go on,” said Ted.
“And you were gone,” said Ruth. “It was just Fence and Randolph and me. We went through the woods, and across the bridge, and up to the Well. Randolph didn’t like it at all, walking right up to an army like that, but Fence kept telling him it was all right. And a unicorn came out of the army and stood on the other side of the Well.”
“What’d it look like?” said Laura.
“It had gold eyes,” said Ruth, promptly, “but otherwise it looked like the one we hunted.”
“That was Chryse,” said Laura.
“Chryse’s the one you talked to?” said Ellen.
“It told me that was its name.”
“It didn’t like me,” said Ruth. “Or maybe it thought I was funny. They’re very strange creatures, those unicorns. I told it we wished to bargain for the life of Edward Fairchild, King of the Hidden Land. That’s the last thing that went according to the game. It knew I had Shan’s Ring, and it asked me if I’d give it up to have you back. I said I would, and it said that the willingness took away the value of the gift, and we’d have to give something else. So Randolph offered his life—and Ted, the unicorn said exactly the same thing, that the willingness took the value away.” She gave him a sharp and anxious look from the green eyes like Randolph’s.
“Well, what do you expect?” said Ted, a little irritated. “We always said that Randolph wanted to die after he killed the King. He figured it was what he deserved, and worth it to save the Secret Country.” Ted paused, thinking. “He was probably tickled to death at the chance.”
“Ted!” said Laura. “He was! After you got killed,” and she swallowed hard, “he said, ‘This is not so foul a chance as it appears, so take heart’—to me, I mean, when I told him to get Ruth.”
“I’d forgotten that about Randolph,” said Ruth. “Well, it’s nice to be right occasionally, except we always seem to be right about the things we’d rather be wrong about. Anyway. Randolph asked if you could take part in the bargaining. The unicorn said we couldn’t talk to you, but it would apprise you of what was happening, and it tilted its head and pitched its voice a little oddly, and said, ‘King Edward! You may go back to life if you will kill Lord Randolph!’
“Well, Fence and I both objected, and Randolph said to the unicorn, ‘Here is thy unwillingness,’ and the unicorn said, ‘I have one will serve me better,’ and told us that if we would return to the place whence we came, we would find you alive.”
Ted supplied them with his side of the conversation with the Guardian of the River; a little discussion of the quality of the Guardian’s voice made them decide that it had been the unicorn’s.
“What’d it mean, it had one that would serve it better?” asked Ellen.
“Probably that my unwillingness was more fun than Ruth and Fence’s, because it was my life Randolph was saving,” said Ted, sourly.
“Ted, what are we going to do about that?” asked Ruth.
“Well, I won’t kill him. I didn’t ask him to die for me. He can damn well do it himself. Do they have hemlock here?”
Ruth looked appalled, and Ted, a little shocked himself, scowled at her. She did not seem impressed. “No, all right,” said Ted, “of course I don’t want him to kill himself. I need him if we can’t get Edward back. If we do get Edward back, Edward’ll need him. And anyway, he did save the Secret Country, so why should he suffer for it? I mean,” said Ted, overcome by a helpless feeling as he remembered the King, “even if it was wrong, what else could he have done?”
“A tragedy,” said Patrick, in a most peculiar voice. He fixed his untender blue gaze on Ted, in the way he used to do when he was playing Fence. “That’s what you get for reading Shakespeare so young.”
“I don’t think Randolph can kill himself,” said Ruth, sparing Patrick not so much as a glance. “He and Fence stood there in that peculiar air under that wrong sky, with the army writhing all over the plain, and argued about it. Fence was furious with him; I mean, quite apart from being his friend. He told him he’d offered what was no longer his to give. It sounded as if magicians aren’t allowed to kill themselves, and Randolph is Fence’s apprentice. Also, Fence convinced Randolph that he would have to be killed by someone unwilling or the unicorn wouldn’t accept the death and would take you back.”
“Hell!” said Ted, without knowing he was going to. “I have to kill him or I’ll die, is that it? My God, do you know what’s happening to us? If I hadn’t tried to stop it the King wouldn’t have died; if Laurie hadn’t tried to stop it I wouldn’t have died; and if you hadn’t tried to bring me back I wouldn’t be under an obligation to kill Randolph, which is really the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid all along!”
“What, what?” said the rest of them, and Ted had to fill them in. Laura seemed to shrivel up.
“It’s not your fault, Laurie, Randolph said it was all his.” Laura looked unconvinced, but less unhappy. “Furthermore,” said Ted, “when I was down there in the land of the dead I met the real us. I met Prince Edward and Princess Laura and the rest of them.”
Patrick, who had been tapping a dead branch on the ground, sat very still. Ruth stared, and so did Laura.
“They’re dead?” said Ellen.
“They didn’t remember who they were at first, but after they did remember, they said Claudia killed them.”
“Oh!” said Laura, with such profound relief that Ted gaped at her.
“It was the other one she killed,” said Laura. She seemed to pause and hear what she had said. The relief drained out of her voice, and she hunched her shoulders. “Claudia’s awful.”
“Laura!” said Ted. “Have you told Fence about those visions?”
“No . . .”
Ted put his head in his hands, feeling that he knew why Hamlet had called his head a distracted globe and had seemed to doubt how long memory could hold its seat th
erein. “Now look,” he said. “No matter what happens or what we decide or what time it is, even if we have to burst in on the blasted Council, when we’re done here we are going to tell Fence about those visions.”
“Randolph should have told him by now,” offered Laura.
“Should’s,” said Ted, “shoe no horses. All right. The real us told me that Claudia killed them and that it was treachery, and Edward said, ‘Avenge our foul and most unnatural murder.’ ”
“Isn’t it nice how all these people keep quoting Shakespeare?” said Patrick.
“How do we avenge them, kill Claudia?” said Ellen. The idea seemed to please her.
“Fat chance of that,” said Ruth. “Even Fence can’t seem to do anything with her. But wouldn’t it be a fine revenge to get them all back? Then they could testify against her.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Ted, “but now I don’t know. Can you think of five things you’re unwilling to give up? Also, Edward said Melanie wouldn’t let them by the gates of life. I don’t know what that means, but I’d hate to tangle with Melanie.”
“Isn’t she dead?” said Ellen. “Seems to me the dragon killed her because Shan couldn’t fulfill his word to the dragon without her, and she broke her word to Shan.”
“Well,” said Ted, “around here that wouldn’t stop her from standing at the gates of life, I bet, not if she were on the side of death, keeping people there. Besides, from what the voice said to me and from some things Randolph said when I asked him about bringing the dead counselors back, I don’t think they’ll take anything but somebody else’s life.”
“Chryse did ask about Shan’s Ring,” said Ruth.
“Well, that’s true. I wonder if Chryse would take that for the five of them. Or for the counselors?”
“They won’t take anything you want to give them,” said Ruth. “Or at least, that’s what it sounded like.”
“Do you really want to give them Shan’s Ring?”
Ruth shrugged, and one of her braids fell down. “Chryse thought I did. And I don’t see what use it is to us. We used it to change the time, but it doesn’t seem to do anything else. Except to combine with the sword to take me somewhere I’d just as soon never go anyway.”
“How do you know you don’t want to go there if you don’t know where it is?”
Ruth sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
Ted looked at her thoughtfully. “You sound disillusioned.”
“Well . . . the Well took my ring away, and I didn’t bring you back from the dead, and the worst part of the story is all that’s left, and—”
“And we won a great battle but there’s something missing,” said Ted, identifying the source of his own unease with considerable astonishment.
“Well, you were dead,” said Ellen, practically, “you didn’t see the end.”
Ted looked at Patrick. “You did, didn’t you?”
“I know what you mean,” said Patrick, slowly. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t spectacular at all. We did what we were told, and Randolph and Fence’s plan worked, and Benjamin kept me from being killed, and Randolph almost kept you from it, and we won, that’s all. Wouldn’t you think the Dragon King would have figured out King John’s tactics in four hundred years? I expected this Belaparthalion they keep talking about to swoop down from the sky and save the day or something. But the day didn’t need saving. Which ought to be fine, but—”
Ted thought of five hundred and forty-three dead men and uncounted dead creatures, and Conrad, and the haunted faces of the people in the hospital tent.
“For pity’s sake,” said Ruth to her brother, “what’s the matter with you?”
“The same thing that’s the matter with you!” said Patrick, very red in the face. “Now that you can’t do anything you don’t like it. Well, Ted and I couldn’t do anything about winning the battle; and we didn’t even make up anything spectacular about winning the battle, so we’re disappointed. And so are you.”
“I don’t dislike it because I can’t do anything!” flared Ruth. “I fear things are getting out of control, wherefore I am afraid.”
“Things have been out of control since we got here,” said Patrick.
“Not like this.”
“Yes they have. It just took a while for everything to come together. We’re just puppets of our damn plot—”
“Whose damn plot?”
“Well, all right. Maybe it’s Claudia’s damn plot.”
“Stop it a minute,” said Ted. “Before I forget what else I have to say. Do you know what Fence and Randolph are going to do with our swords?”
“How could we?” said Ellen. “This is no time for dramatics.”
“They’re going to give them to Chryse and Belaparthalion in exchange for their keeping the Dragon King in line.”
He wished he were in a better frame of mind to appreciate their reactions. Laura and Ellen looked blank, Ruth horror-struck, and Patrick desperately thoughtful. A cardinal whistled over them, and they all jerked their heads back and gaped at it.
“And those stupid birds,” said Ted, remembering that it was one of them that had sent Laura blundering into the hedge in the first place.
“They’re Green Caves servants,” said Ruth. “They’re all right.”
“Well, but they’re red, and Benjamin said that was the color of the Outside Powers.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean that everything red is from the Outside Powers, does it?”
The cardinal whipped away toward the mountains.
“I feel spied on,” said Ellen.
“We stray from the point,” said Ted.
“Which one?” said Patrick.
“All right. First, we’ve got to get those swords back. And when we do, we had better go home.”
“Leaving everything all up in the air?” cried Ellen.
“If we stay I’ll end up killing Randolph.”
“But now that we know Claudia killed the real us—”
“What are we supposed to do about it?” said Ted, wishing she would not so accurately reflect half his own mind on the matter.
“But I want to know why!” said Ellen.
“When did she do it?” Patrick asked Ted.
“They didn’t say. We didn’t have very long.”
“Well,” said Patrick, sitting forward, “remember the first day we were all here together, and Benjamin found us? He was mad because you and Ruth were together, and you were late to the Council. But we didn’t seem to have been missing for very long. What if she did it then, because we were all here?”
“Why should she want us here?”
“I think we should ask her.”
“If we could find her,” said Ted. “I agree that we should give Claudia her just deserts. But what we try to do doesn’t seem to have much connection with what happens; or else it has the wrong kind of connection.”
“What if we left a note for Fence?” said Ruth, abruptly.
“That’s an idea!” said Ted. “I wouldn’t feel so responsible then. And I wouldn’t kill Randolph.”
“You’d still owe him your life,” said Patrick, “and leave him in a mess. Not to mention—”
“Well?”
“I don’t think I’ll mention it,” said Patrick, looking secretive.
There was a pause, full of the rustle of pine needles and the distant trickle of water. Ted considered the debt he owed Randolph, and remembered the land of the dead. A great burst of clarity overcame him.
“Wait!” he said. “Randolph didn’t want me. He wanted Edward Fairchild. Well, Edward Fairchild’s still dead; he’s still down there. Chryse didn’t fulfill its bargain, so why should Randolph fulfill his?”
“You think Chryse’d let you get away with that?” said Ruth.
“I bet it’ll have to. Magic and bargains with the devil and things like that are always very—what’s the word—”
“Literal,” said Ruth, brightening.
“What?” said Ellen.
Ellen gave a delighted chortle.
“We can point that out to Fence in the note,” said Ted.
“If Randolph really wants to die, he’ll find a way,” observed Patrick.
“But look,” said Ted. “The whole point of what he’s been doing has been to save the Secret Country. Well, once we’re gone and he knows what’s really happened, saving the Secret Country will mean getting Edward back. And maybe by the time he’s done that he’ll feel better about having killed the King.”
As he spoke, Ted saw again the shadowy Council Room, the King’s candlelit, agonized face, and the way Randolph looked as if he had been poisoned himself. Ted, who had tried to stop it, did not feel any better about the whole thing: how could he expect that Randolph, who had done it, ever would?
This did not seem to occur to the others.
“Well,” said Ruth slowly, “let’s see. If we get the swords and go, and leave a note, we’ll have to put Fence and Randolph on Claudia’s trail and given them a chance to get the real us back, and we’ll have kept Ted from killing Randolph and perhaps given Randolph something to live for.”
Ted groaned. “And we’ll have taken away the bribe Fence was going to give to Chryse and Belaparthalion to keep the Dragon King in line.”
“If the Dragon King’s out of line, won’t Randolph have more to live for?” asked Ellen.
Ted could not help laughing. “Maybe,” he said, “but it hardly seems fair.”
“If you throw the sword back through the hedge,” said Patrick, in his most superior tone, “it should take itself back here. Then they could come get it, if we put that in the note, too. And the same with ours.”
