The Key & the Flame

by Claire M. Caterer

  She grabbed the sheet-rope, double-checked the knots, and dragged it out to the balcony. Holly peered over the balustrade in the moonlight. Her landing pad was no more than a few square feet. She would have to climb all the way down—no wild jumping.

  Holly tied one end to the balustrade, then gathered the sheets and tossed them over the balcony, confident they would pool on the ground below.

  The awful truth came all at once, like a hose dousing a candle.

  Her makeshift rope was too short.

  Chapter 23

  * * *

  Her Majesty’s Order

  Everett’s thoughts ran a split track as he crouched in the tower. In the first moment, he admired Ben for the brave thing he’d done, threatening Grandor with the wand, and he wondered if he himself would have been able to do it; and then less than a second later, he realized how stupid Ben had been and how awful it would feel to be trapped without him, that Ben would soon be skewered on the tip of the knight’s sword while Everett, feeling worse than useless, sat by watching.

  “Don’t!” was all he could think of to say.

  “Observe, lad, and learn,” said Grandor, drawing the sword back. Ben whimpered.

  Behind them, the tower door sprang open with a resounding boom. A young knight burst into the room.

  “Grandor!”

  “These lads attacked me, Loverian,” growled Grandor.

  “Release him,” said the other knight. “I bring the queen’s order. The both are to be spared for three days.”

  Grandor glared back, still holding Ben by the hair.

  Loverian charged forward, sword drawn. “Now, I say, in the name of the crown.”

  Everett held his breath, glancing at the open door.

  Grandor shoved Ben onto the glass-strewn floor, where he lay sobbing quietly. Loverian swung his sword toward Everett, following his glance. “Do not think on it, lad.”

  Everett, not knowing what else to do, held his hands up, the way you’re supposed to do when surrendering.

  Grandor turned his head and spat. “The queen’s order! Did she deliver it to you in person?”

  “It was . . . conveyed to me.”

  “And the king?”

  “He has not yet returned from the hunting party.”

  “He shall have interest in this.” Grandor strode to the other end of the tower, slammed the door, and picked up the wand. “Here be the lad’s weapon. He made fire with it.”

  Loverian reached out a gloved hand, but Grandor snatched his back. “Spoils of war.”

  “War? Your opponents be but lately off their mother’s breast.”

  The older knight’s face reddened. “They have power!”

  “Then the king will want to know of it. You will hand your spoils to His Highness, nay?”

  “Of . . . Of course.”

  Grandor’s sword was still drawn. He pointed it not an inch from Everett’s nose. “Mind me, thief. Your life was spared tonight, but three days hence, luck shall not be with you.”

  Grandor strode out of the tower. Loverian turned to follow, but Everett said, “Excuse me . . . my lord?”

  “Aye?”

  “Holly . . . the girl . . . Do you know what’s happened to her?”

  Ben sat up too, his face grimy and bloody from where he’d wiped it with his hands.

  “ ’Tis not your affair.”

  “Please, my . . . lordship. She’s my sister,” Ben said, his voice catching. “Is she okay?”

  From somewhere in his chain mail, the knight pulled a handkerchief. He leaned forward, wiping Ben’s face. “You are injured.”

  “I don’t care! What about Holly?”

  Loverian leaned forward, his voice low. “She was captured. She be safe for now.”

  “For now?”

  “You’re going to kill her, too,” Everett said in a low voice.

  “No, you’re not!” Ben cried.

  “Peace, lad.” Loverian stood up. “The queen has decreed three days’ clemency for all of you. Be glad of it.”

  “But where is Holly?” Everett asked.

  The knight smiled. “Dost think me a traitor to my king?” He walked to the tower door, drawing out a key ring. “Take care, young master. Whatever you think, you have no friend here.”

  The door closed with a bang, and the boys were alone again.

  Chapter 24

  * * *

  The Elemental

  Holly’s rope was not just a little bit short. It didn’t reach more than halfway down. Holly raced back inside. She circled the chamber, rifling through the wardrobe, feeling under the bed, looking for anything, even a hand towel, to extend the sheet-rope. But the room was bare.

  Holly sprinted back to the balcony and peered over the edge. She couldn’t jump the last sixty feet, that was sure. All that work for nothing. Her eyes swam as she gazed up at the unfamiliar stars. Maybe if she looked long enough she’d see Fleetwing through the trees. But there was no one.

  Except for the very brightest star, which winked at her.

  And then it began to move across the sky.

  Holly’s first thought was that it was an airplane. But of course it couldn’t be. The light swelled as it approached. The funny thing was, it grew even less distinct the closer it got, so that it looked just like a star until the moment it landed on the balustrade in front of her.

  Though small enough to fit inside Holly’s fist, it burned so white-hot that she could hardly look at it. It bounced about the balustrade like a crazy, flaming rubber ball. Finally it leaped up in front of her face. By now Holly’s eyes had adjusted to the light, and she gasped.

  It was a tiny, white-hot person.

  Its pale face and wild, crackly white hair glowed at the center of a white flame. It wore some kind of robe or feathers that were too bright to look at for long. Holly couldn’t decide if it was male or female.

  Its voice was faint and high-pitched, but Holly, standing very still, could hear it now. “Thee hath ears without hearing! It needs quiet! Silence!”

  “I . . . ”

  “Art sure an Adept?” The little person peered at Holly skeptically.

  “I’m Holly. Are you . . . I don’t know . . . A fairy?”

  The creature’s white cheeks burned blue. “Thee speakest blasphemy! I be of the Elements! I is the flaming brilliance! I is the power of the flame! I is—”

  “Okay, sorry.” Holly sighed. “I’m not from around here.”

  “So I be told.” The creature’s flames cooled. “Be thee the Lady Holly?”

  “I guess so.”

  “What be this meaning? Ist thee the lady? Or—or an agent of the winged man? Hims of the Source?” The little person drew away, its eyes wide.

  “No,” said Holly quickly. “I am . . . the Lady Holly. The Adept.”

  The creature, who had been hovering above the balustrade, came to rest on it. Its light faded to gold and it blinked tiny, bright eyes. “Then I be sent for thee.”

  “I’m sorry for not knowing,” said Holly carefully, “but who are you? Are you a friend of Queen Elianne’s?”

  “Her Majestyness be not queen of the Elements, whether or no hast she numberous friends. I be an Elemental—Ignata, of the Cináed, of the Kingdom of the Good Folk.”

  The creature’s cheeks burned blue and then back to yellow-gold. Holly decided the impish face was female. She could see iridescent wings folded along the Elemental’s shoulders as she strode back and forth along the balcony railing. She stopped when she reached the tied sheet-rope.

  “Ah!” Ignata said, burning white. “Thee hast forgot thee magic!”

  “I don’t have my key—that is, my wand.”

  “Hast need of wands? Funny little mortal.” Ignata smirked.

  “Are you going to help me or not?” Holly said crossly.

  “Raise not thee voice to loudness! Thou be not friend to the Elementals! It is duly noted! It is duly noted!” Ignata jumped up and down in her fury until she became airborne and buzz
ed like a wasp around Holly’s head.

  “Fine!” Holly said. Too many incomprehensible things in a single day can be tiring, and suddenly she was exhausted again. She turned back to the chamber. “Duly note whatever you want.”

  “Wait! Wait! Wait!” The creature’s voice rose to a near inaudible pitch. “Thee must be aided! Thy be Adept! Wait wait wait!”

  The voice trailed off and broke into a string of high-pitched squeaks and trills. Her light burned very bright, and sparks showered onto the balcony like fireworks.

  Holly was afraid she was having some kind of fit. “Are you all right? It’s okay—I’m staying right here, see?”

  Gradually Ignata’s fire condensed back into the ball around her body. Her voice returned. “Ignata begs pardonest of His Ladyship,” she said, still sounding a bit squeaky. “His Majestyness. She be not accustomed to speaking with Adeptest—Adpets—Apdets—”

  “It’s all right. Just calm down.”

  “I be sent to help thee,” she said at last, settling back onto the balcony. She peered over the edge at Holly’s inadequate rope and gave her a sidelong glance. “This be not much aid.”

  “No kidding.”

  “But Ignata be of aid. Observe, Lady.”

  The Elemental floated into the air and lighted on the knotted sheet. It burst into flame.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Holly shouted.

  “Dost desire aid or no?” asked the Elemental. “Adpets be an impatient lot. Work of Elementals be elegant but slow.” With these words, the creature floated down the tower, following the flames. Holly squinted up at the battlements, expecting an archer to appear over the edge. But no one seemed to have noticed what was going on.

  And then a strange thing happened. Something appeared in the center of the flames even as the sheets shriveled. Holly couldn’t make out what it was, but it was growing, stretching out like a great burning snake toward the grass. Holly couldn’t see the Elemental anymore, but after a few moments, she appeared back on the balcony. The fire dwindled, then disappeared; and what had once been a length of knotted bedsheets was now a thick ivy stalk, hugging the wall of the castle all the way to the ground, where it looked rooted. Ignata crossed her arms and smiled.

  “Now, Lady Adept, seeth the handiwork of the Elementals.”

  “You—you did do something!”

  Holly realized that she sounded not quite gracious, but Ignata only glowed brighter. “It suiteth, my lady.”

  “It does—suiteth.” Holly searched the ground, but she didn’t see any sentries. “This is my chance,” she said. “I might still be able to save Ben and Everett if I get going.”

  The Elemental sat down and preened her wings. “Thee ist near correct.”

  “What do you mean, ‘near correct’?”

  “Thee canst save one mortal, not two.”

  “What?” Holly said. “Why can’t I save both of them?”

  The little creature studied her nails. “One be dead, my lady.”

  Holly’s heart stopped in her chest. “No.”

  “Aye, ’tis truth. The mortals in the tower. One hast the magic stick, and didst attempt to overwhelm the knight. He is dead. The other livest,” Ignata added brightly.

  “They didn’t have a stick—a wand. Neither one of them. You must be wrong. They’re alive.”

  “You!” Ignata flew from her perch and pointed a thin finger in Holly’s face. “Thee darest to doubt the word of the Elemental! Thee Adpet! Thee Apdet! The Elements see all! Knowst all!” Flames billowed out from her chest. “Thee hast not yet escaped! Fire giveth life, and fire taketh life!” The creature raised up a blazing arm as if to curse the vine she had planted.

  “No, please!” Tears choked Holly’s voice. “I’m sorry! I just . . . Which one? Which one is dead?”

  “The firesight is limited,” the Elemental muttered. “One is dead. One liveth. Such be the news the Elements bring.”

  Holly sank onto the balcony. “I can’t believe it.”

  How could one of the boys have a wand like hers? Or did they threaten one of the knights with something stupid, like a pencil? Ben might have a pencil in his pocket. No, it couldn’t be Ben. What would she tell her parents? Well, what did it matter, because when was she likely ever to see them again anyway?

  A great sob rose in her throat.

  “ ’Tis the same with all mortals,” said the Elemental, sounding bored. “Once the wine be spilt, tears be useless. My lady, comest thee away to the wood! The Elementals shall hide thou well protected! Then mayest thou free the remaining mortal!”

  The Elemental’s words brought her up short. She didn’t know who was left alive; it might be Ben. Of course she wanted Everett to be alive too, but if she couldn’t have them both . . .

  Holly pulled herself up and leaned over the balcony, tugging on the vine. Its twisted trunk was nearly as thick around as her waist, with plenty of sturdy branches and neat little footholds. It would be the sort of thing one would love to climb up, if not going very high; but climbing down a hundred feet or more, with a sharp cliff face shining white below in the moonlight, seemed a bit more tricky. She didn’t even have a rope this time.

  And she would have to manage it one-handed.

  Somehow, she had forgotten this, even through the throbbing in her right arm. “How am I supposed to climb down with this?” she asked.

  Ignata heaved an extravagant sigh. “Adpets be difficult beings. Needst thee further aid, Lady? It be dull magic.”

  “Can you help me? Dull is fine.”

  Ignata shrugged and flew up to Holly’s right shoulder. “May thee be lit by fire within,” she said, then squeaked as she flew down the injured arm.

  At once the heat erupted in Holly’s muscles as if her arm was aflame from shoulder to wrist. It glowed white and Holly screamed.

  But the pain lasted only an instant. The skin cooled, and cautiously, Holly took off the makeshift sling and tried to bend her elbow.

  The arm was perfect. Even the bruises were gone. She flexed the muscles; they were stronger than before.

  “That’s amazing! Thank you!”

  “ ’Tis not fitting to give thanks,” the fiery creature said, but she glowed.

  “So now,” Holly said, turning her attention back to the vine that wound its way to the ground. “This thing.”

  Keep your eyes straight ahead; don’t look down. A horrid untethered freedom surrounded her as she put one foot over the balustrade. For the second time tonight, she missed her helmet and now, the tension of the belay. She concentrated on the balcony door in front of her and took hold of two branches. A cool breeze blew by her and she heard the river roaring below the chalky cliffs. The other foot came over the side.

  She never was sure how she managed it. She watched her knuckles, as white as the moon, as with each step she scrambled for a foothold. At one point she flailed, her foot finding nothing but air; she took a nasty slide down a few feet, her palms burning. “ ’Tis just beneath thee feet!” the Elemental urged her. “Now to the left! Nay, right! Nay! Left!”

  Holly had to tune out the creature’s advice. Hand under hand, foot below foot, she advanced. The balcony above her receded. Her knuckles scraped against the cool stone of the tower. She panted, feeling faint. She forced herself to breathe in slow, measured rhythms.

  But after about two minutes of climbing, another problem emerged—one greater even than her fear and the sound of the river crashing below. Above her head, following her descent, the vine’s branches began to fade. It was disappearing. “What’s happening?” Holly cried.

  Ignata, floating near her face, shrugged. “ ’Tis impermanent magic. Thy musteth make haste afore it vanish.”

  Now looking up was as awful as looking down. Holly climbed faster. “Can’t you do something? Bring it back?”

  “Spells be not callest forth again and anon! Thee must fly if needs must.”

  “If I could fly, I wouldn’t need it at all!” Holly said. Only a few feet of the vi
ne remained above her head. And it was still too far to jump.

  From there it became a race: Holly against the disappearing vine. Sweat poured down her back. Her palms stung with blisters. Her ankle had a deep gash from her slide down the vine. But still she climbed, hands and feet chasing each other, until at last she felt the earth beneath her feet. The vine in her hands disappeared, and Holly collapsed on the ground.

  She sat panting for a moment, leaning against the cold, sheer wall of the western tower. The grass was soft and wet beneath her, and a few yards away, the cliff face dropped into the river. She had made it.

  A rustling sound, not far from her right hand. Holly stopped breathing, willing herself to blend into the wall. Then voices.

  “Round round round! This way! At once!” squeaked the Elemental, circling to the other side of the tower.

  Holly pulled herself up and plunged ahead after the little creature, who lit her way like a firefly.

  The voices behind her grew louder, then urgent. Shouts came from the balcony above. They knew she had escaped.

  How stupid of her! She’d left the door wide open. Whoever checked the room had seen right away that she was gone.

  Ahead, the Elemental flew north along the long wall that framed the back of the castle. The land leveled a bit, though the hill down into the valley was rocky, and Holly stumbled. Ignata darted into the forest, then turned and shot a lick of flame at Holly that burned her body for a moment, much as her arm had burned before. She cried out and a large, armor-clad man bowled into her.

  “By the crown!” he cried. It was Grandor.

  “Lady Adept!” squeaked a voice. Just through the trees, Holly glimpsed a flicker of light. She sprinted after it.

  “This way! ’Tis the Adept!” Grandor shouted, and a horde of footsteps and hoofbeats thundered after her.