Holly kept her eyes on the bobbing light in front of her, winking in and out of the trees. She stumbled through a creek, then along the path, which grew darker as she penetrated the forest. But she was no match for the horses, which she could feel now, panting and blowing behind her. “She be not in the wood,” someone shouted.
“Aye, she is! Do you think me blind?” Grandor shouted back.
One of the knights on horseback came galloping around the bend. Holly had to throw herself off the path to avoid being trampled. She landed in a low shrub in a very uncomfortable position, but she didn’t dare cry out.
The horseman drew up even with her and turned this way and that. “I tell you, she is not here.” He was carrying a small torch, which he raised above his head. The wood was bathed in firelight. The knight looked straight into Holly’s face where she crouched. “She has escaped,” he pronounced.
Holly looked down at herself, puzzled. The knight had moved his torch, but somehow she was still glowing. How had he missed her? She looked like a giant light bulb.
Grandor appeared on his horse behind the other. “ ’Tis part of her craft, fool. I shall search myself.” He snatched the torch and walked the horse up and down the path, peering into the woods. He too looked at Holly but didn’t seem to see her. “Very well, Gervase,” he conceded finally. “ ’Twould seem you are right. These creatures have ways of hiding themselves. We must loose the dogs. His Highness will not be pleased to hear that she has vanished.”
“Grandor,” said the other, drawing closer and lowering his voice, “how did she escape? Two guards were posted outside the chamber door.”
“Perchance she flew. What knowledge have we of black magic? The prince ought to have killed her at once. Come.”
The two knights turned their horses back through the wood and, when they were clear of it, pushed them at a canter toward the castle. Holly wouldn’t have much time before the dogs came after her.
“My lady,” squeaked the Elemental, near her ear.
“Ignata! Why couldn’t they see me?” Holly asked.
“A gift of the Elements.” The little creature flew in front of Holly’s face and put out a hand. A wave like a splash of cold water washed over Holly from the inside out, and the glow around her condensed into a finger of flame that shot back into the Elemental’s palm. Holly shivered.
“You made me invisible,” she said.
“It would not last, my lady, but still, ’tis best to nothing.”
“Thank you.”
“My duty.” Ignata glowed proudly. “Now, this way!”
Chapter 25
* * *
The Enemy of the Good Folk
Holly pulled herself up out of the shrub she’d been crouching in. She didn’t feel much like an Adept, with no wand and dependent on temperamental fireflies for help, but at least she was free. The Elemental bobbed ahead of her along the forest path, and more than once Holly thought she could hear the distant barking of dogs. Why didn’t she feel more grateful, instead of low and tired? She’d gotten away, and yet the knowledge that one of the boys was dead—please, let it not be Ben, but how awful, please let it not be Everett, either—gave her a cold, hollow feeling in her chest. She had failed them. Both of them. She wanted nothing more than to sleep.
“ ’Tis not much farther, my lady,” came the fiery creature’s voice through the dark. “Then thee must eat and drink, take rest.”
“I don’t even care about food. Just bed.”
“Nay nay!” The Elemental zoomed back in front of her face, burning very bright. “Her Ladyship needseth food and drink! Eat eat eat! Else she be died!”
“Okay, I’ll eat. Let’s just get there.”
“Follow, my lady! ’Tis not far!” The creature turned and led the way again, this time faster. Holly sighed. Her legs trembled beneath her.
There is a kind of desperate exhaustion that takes over when one is forced to trust strangers in a hostile place. Holly’s limbs ached from the climb down the vine, and any moment she expected to feel the hot breath of hounds on the back of her neck. And she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Even now.
Holly strained her ears against the cricket song in the woods. The knights had been in a hurry; where were the dogs? Then she had a thought.
“Ignata, you’re so small and . . . well, smart . . . ”
“Aye, mistress, truth ye speakest.”
“Maybe . . . I know this is a big favor. . . . But couldn’t you maybe get into the castle and get my wand back for me?”
The little creature turned and stared at Holly, her mouth agape.
“I know it would be dangerous, but that wand, it’s more than just a stick, it’s a key that can get me back where I came from, and—”
“An Elemental touchest not the stick of magic! ’Tis of the Adpets! Apdets! We touches it for only the brieftest of moments or we burn!”
“Okay, okay. It was just an idea.”
Ignata let out a long sigh, then turned around. “Ahead, my lady! We be arrived!”
Holly peered through the trees. The Elemental was heading for a small clearing in the wood. Maybe here at last was a bed.
In this she was disappointed. All she found were a few spindly trees and something that looked like an enormous anthill. It was nearly three feet high, mostly dirt, though grass grew on one side. Nearby were small rings of stones, as might surround a doll’s campfire. The mound had a hole near the bottom on one side, and another in the top, like a chimney. A warm glow came from within, and Holly could hear the titter of squeaking voices, like the Elemental’s own language.
“This be our home, my lady,” said Ignata, landing on the top of the little hill. The mound burst into flames.
Holly jumped back. The fire was contained, and very clear and bright. As her eyes adjusted, Holly could see movement in the flames, little balls of light even brighter than the fire itself.
“Come inside, my lady, and find thee bed.”
“But I can’t go in there!”
“Aye, thee musteth!” cried Ignata.
“I’ll burn up! Can’t you see that? I’m not one of you!”
“This have we consideredeth.” The little creature darted into the flames and returned with what looked like a small live coal, which it placed on a nearby tree stump. Gradually the offering cooled. Holly blinked; it had become a little slice of cake.
It must be said in Holly’s defense that everyone has a weakness, and lemon chiffon cake was hers. It was so light that she could see the perfectly formed pockets of air in the texture. Buttercream frosting and sugared violets decorated the top. It was the loveliest cake Holly had ever seen.
“ ’Tis food of the Good Folk,” the Elemental whispered in her ear. “Eat. It allowest thee to take refuge in our home, to become as us.”
“But not forever, right?”
Ignata fluttered around her head. “Affirmatious, my lady! Sadly, these effect be but temporaneous!”
“And I’ll be hidden from the knights?”
Ignata landed on the tree stump. “Mortals see nothing. If they sight our home, it be only from the edges of eyes, and when they looketh straight, all be invisibiliousness to them.”
“Then how can I see it?”
“Thee beest Adept!” scoffed the creature. “Thee be differentious.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” Holly muttered. “I don’t even have the wand anymore.”
“But nay, Lady.” Ignata’s voice lowered to a whisper. “ ’Tis not the wand that maketh ye the Adept. Adeptishness be in the blood, the blood of Anglielle. The wand cannot be givish to others.” Ignata took a breath, struggling to calm the tiny popping flames that flickered around her body. Her smile looked forced. “Now. Eat.”
Holly wanted to argue, but her words died in her throat. She looked at the cake, and her stomach felt strangely empty, although she’d eaten her fill of the queen’s food. Ignata was right; she should get a good night’s re
st and make her plans tomorrow. She reached out and picked up the cake. It was like lifting air. Ignata leaned forward, glowing.
A black streak tore through the trees. The cake was knocked out of Holly’s hand, and the Elemental tumbled from the tree stump. Above the little creature’s shrieks rose the growls of the thing that had taken her. They rolled on the ground, fire and darkness; Holly noticed the firenest’s light growing dimmer.
“Stop! Leave her alone! Get off!” Holly followed the rolling pair to the edge of the clearing. The black beast tore at the Elemental and her light dimmed to a sickly yellow. The firenest extinguished. When Holly glanced back, it looked like an anthill again. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust to the darkness.
“Hang on, Ignata! I’ll help you!” Holly pulled out her Swiss Army knife and opened the blade. The Elemental’s screams filled the night air.
Holly had some idea of slashing at the black creature, but it was moving too fast, rolling around and around on the ground, first on top, then on its back, clawing at the translucent wings. Finally Ignata broke free and fluttered out of reach. Her light looked like a dying candle flame. Holly glanced back at the ground.
Ignata’s attacker was a large cat. He circled the clearing, glaring up at the hovering Elemental. His teeth glowed as if he had ripped hot coals from the creature. Holly startled, recognizing him.
“Jade!” she cried. “What are you doing? Leave Ignata alone! She’s helping me!”
The cat kept his eyes trained on the tiny creature. “Her Ladyship must beware of help from such a beast as this. Did you take food from it?”
“I didn’t get the chance.”
“If you would be an Elemental forever, then by all means, eat.”
“But you’ve hurt her.” Holly’s voice caught, and the Elemental flew to her feebly, landing on her outstretched hand.
“Who wouldst Lady Adept trusteth?” Holly could barely hear the creature’s weak voice. “Taketh ye the word of a betrayer? One who delivered thou to her catchers?”
“Fool! Would I have risked my life to have an Adept captured?” the cat snarled.
“Thy . . . didst not . . . save her.”
“Oh no!” cried Holly. “She’s dying!”
The creature’s light faded. Only her chest, where her heart might have been, still glowed, but the outer edges of the body grew gray and cold.
“I hast done my best for thou, my lady,” whispered the Elemental.
“No, don’t!”
But the little creature laid her head down in Holly’s palm, and all at once, her light blinked out like an extinguished light bulb.
“Now look what you’ve done!” cried Holly, feeling heartsick. “And she helped me escape!”
Jade stopped pacing, sat down, and began to wash his face. He winced as he shook the embers from his jowls.
“Set that creature on top of its home, my lady,” said the cat, stretching. “Come with me. Time grows short.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. You killed her.” Holly cradled the little winged body.
“It sought to entrap you, not save you. Her Ladyship does not know the Elementals. Put it down. It lives.” Jade tensed his body, ready to spring.
The creature in her hands looked quite dead. Holly didn’t really trust Jade, but an uncomfortable warmth was spreading along her palm. She laid the little body on top of the grassy mound.
Jade relaxed. “My thanks.”
“Don’t touch her,” Holly warned.
“Watch, my lady.”
Holly was in no mood to do anything the cat asked her to, but she couldn’t help paying attention to what happened next. The mound in front of her gradually became brighter, like a lantern lit from within. The Elemental’s body rose straight up, riding a current of hot air, and her filmy clothing stirred about her. The mound burst into flames. Once again Holly spied the tiny fireballs whizzing about inside. After a moment, one of them flew out of the flames, snatched the body, and bore it back into the nest.
Holly blinked, trying to see what happened next, but the mound was too bright to look at properly. Suddenly another ball of flame licked out from the nest and flew into her face.
“Ignata! Are you all right?”
If anything, the Elemental looked brighter than before. Tiny flames licked out from her feet. She flew past Holly and hovered over the cat’s head, hissing and popping like logs on a hearth. “Thee hast made an enemy of the Elementals!” she spat. “It be mosteth unwise!”
Jade yawned.
“The Adepts will foreverest be friends of the Elements, but thee hast incurred our wrathest!”
“Wait a second,” said Holly, turning to the Elemental. “So you weren’t dying?”
The winged creature shrugged in midair. “Fire ist rebirthed from within, Ladyness. The Elements be not mortalish.”
Holly glanced at Jade, wavering. “And that cake you gave me—”
“It be given to hidest thou in the flames of the firenest! A giftest of the Elementals!” Ignata glowed more fiercely.
“But I could come out again, right?”
“Comest out, fly within, what matters this? Adpets be reverest! Apdets be forever!” The little creature’s pitch grew higher, disappearing into squeaks and hisses. Holly looked at Jade.
“While the Good Folk mislead, they find it difficult to lie outright, especially to those they wish to endear,” said the cat.
“Enemy!” cried Ignata. “Fierceth black beast who knowsest naught of the Realm! Thy be traitors to the Adepts! Thy gives her to her captors with all willing!”
“How do you know that?” Holly turned to the Elemental. “Fleetwing got shot down too, you know! And Ranulf fought with the castle guards.”
“But such cannot protectoreth Her Ladyness! These be mortalish! Comest to us, who keepeth thou safetest forevermore!”
“Waste no more energy on this creature, my lady,” said the cat, turning away. “We must join the others.”
Holly heard a dog bark far away. And then another.
“It’s the knights! I’ve got to get out of here!”
“Who helpeth thee when thee need it most?” whispered the flying creature, lighting on her shoulder. “Come with me, little magician, we will hideth thee in the flames.”
Jade turned and crouched beneath Ignata, growling.
Holly glanced from one to the other. The dogs’ barking was louder, deeper.
Jade took a step closer.
“As you wish!” the flying creature cried. “Farewell, enemy of the Elementals!” She gave a great hissing shriek and threw herself into the firenest.
“Ignata!”
But the fire blinked out, leaving the cold grassy mound behind.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Holly cried, turning on Jade. “I don’t need any more enemies!”
“ ’Tis I who be their enemy,” said the cat. “Now! This way!”
Jade bounded out of the clearing and into the brambles. Holly lost sight of him in the darkness, but in a moment, he turned, and his green eyes glowed in the moonlight. “You must follow or be captured,” the cat said. “What is your choice, Lady Holly?”
Somewhere in the distance, the hungry, desperate howls echoed. Holly had no choice. She followed.
Chapter 26
* * *
Morning’s Plan
No matter how many dogs are after you, cutting a path through old-growth forest with a pocketknife is slow work. Each time a young sapling whipped her in the face or she stumbled over a fallen tree trunk, Holly became more convinced she should have followed the Elemental. At least she’d be safe there. And what made Jade so trustworthy, anyway? Hadn’t he abandoned her?
She had nearly made up her mind to turn back when Jade bounded into another clearing. Standing beside him was Ranulf.
Holly stumbled into the glade, stood panting before the centaur, and started to say, “I don’t see why I should—”
“No time, my lady!” Ranulf reached down a long,
burly arm and snatched her from the ground, throwing her onto his back.
He thundered away to the opposite side of the clearing onto a path. At once, a pack of dogs met them from the other side and bounded after them, leaping at the centaur’s flanks.
“You’ve led them straight to us!” said Holly.
Ranulf galloped faster, drawing his sword at the same time, and glanced backward. Hunched against his back, Holly saw the sword flash in the moonlight, and a bright light shot from it. One of the dogs yelped.
“What are you doing?” Holly shouted.
“Protecting Her Ladyship!” The centaur brandished the sword again and a fireball exploded on the ground. The dogs hung back. The knights, not far behind on horseback, nearly trampled them. Ranulf pointed the sword above his head and a shower of sparks erupted into the sky. The knights hollered at one another; the dogs howled and barked; and the ground trembled with stampeding hooves. The horses reared and turned back to the castle, the dogs at their heels. A moment later they had disappeared into the wood.
Ranulf turned back to the path. Once again Holly found herself clinging to his sweaty torso as he galloped away. Within twenty minutes he had pulled up short in front of Almaric’s cottage.
She was back where she had started, and now so tired she could hardly stand. She was vaguely aware of Almaric fussing over her (“Her Ladyship is cold. . . . Bring her here. . . . That’s right. . . . ”). Then she was herded to a soft bed and made to lie down. And before she had another thought, she had fallen asleep.
—
Holly’s room was already bright when she stirred. She was momentarily confused by where she was: It was not her room in America, nor her bedroom in Hawkesbury, nor the western chamber of the king’s castle. Each of these discoveries brought a mixture of relief and fear, but it wasn’t long before all the events of the day before tumbled through her mind. She was in Almaric’s tiny round bedroom. With a sharp pang, she remembered what Ignata had said about the boys.
Holly pulled herself out of the bed, wincing at a dozen different muscle aches. She peered into Almaric’s glass. She couldn’t see the boys now, just her own reflection. It would not be an overstatement to say that she looked a fright. Her disheveled braids were matted with leaves and dirt, her face covered with scrapes and bruises. She wore a long nightdress that Almaric had given her. Her jeans, caked with mud, were folded over a chair. She could hardly put them back on. She found her glasses sitting on the chest of drawers. At least they weren’t broken.
The Key & the Flame Page 16
