Avery smiled. “She shalt come to us, nay?”
“She . . . shalt?” asked Ben uncertainly.
“She essayed rescue before. She will do so again, most likely during the king’s tournament. We must make pretense to fight against her. Then I shall ride after you into the wood, and ye shall transport me to your land.”
“Well, maybe—” Everett said.
“And I will be the only man ever to glimpse another world!”
“Well, boy, anyway,” Ben muttered. “Now we just have to hope Everett doesn’t get killed in this tournament.”
“So let me get this straight,” said Everett. “You want to train me for the joust, put me in a tournament against trained knights, pray I don’t get killed and even win, make a proper show of magic with this wand—which is illegal, as far as I’ve been able to figure—and then you’ll just let Holly rescue us?”
“I would see thy mastery of magic—in this world and thine.”
“What about Ben? I won’t do it unless he does too.”
“He is too young and . . . infirm. Still,” said Avery, “a knight needs a squire.”
“Hey, isn’t that like a servant?” asked Ben.
“Thou shalt attend the needs of thy knight,” said the prince. “Groom his mount, carry his lance—”
“Sounds like a servant. Or a golf caddie.”
“Shut it.” Everett nudged him. “He’ll be happy to do it, Your Highness. We both will.”
“Then we are in accord. We shall begin training this morning.” The prince yanked on a bellpull, and one of the knights entered the room.
“Your Highness?”
“Take these two to the servants’ quarters. They shall need a proper bath if they are to remain in our royal presence. And find them some fresh attire.” He twirled Everett’s wand between two fingers, watching as it caught the sunlight. “Then return them to me.”
Chapter 29
* * *
Knights Rest
Holly thought that now they had decided what to do, they’d pack up a lunch and be on their way. But Almaric fussed over how much food to take, and how best to fashion a bedroll, and which of his magical instruments would prove most useful. Eventually he settled on something he called a firestarter and an expanding jelly pot. “A pity we have no pavilion, never mind the vanishing sort, but it can’t be helped,” he said.
It was Ranulf who pointed out that while Her Ladyship’s dress was comely, it wasn’t practical for traveling. Hornbeak the falcon was dispensed to snatch something from a peasant’s clothesline. He brought Holly a boy’s tunic and some kind of trousers (the legs were cut apart and had to be joined by tying them to something that looked suspiciously like boxer shorts). Around her waist she tightened a leather belt and she tied the close-fitting hood under her chin. With her hair covered, she would easily be mistaken for a boy.
She was determined to take her backpack, too, over the objections of the others. Almaric spent several minutes debating about it until Holly pointed out that she could carry food and supplies as well as the others. “Plus, it’s olive drab, so it’ll blend into the landscape,” she said. Almaric glanced at Ranulf and shrugged—olive drab meant little to them—and Holly strapped it on.
The sun was high and warm before they finally set out. At first the ground was flat and easy to walk on. They kept to a path until they left the wood, and then tramped along through a meadow, vaguely northwest by Holly’s compass, toward some distant brown hills. The shoes Hornbeak had brought were little more than thick pieces of leather sewn together, and they were too big for her. It was tough going, if you can imagine trudging through tall grass with floppy slippers on. But at least they were doing something.
Once they had found their path, Holly broke the silence. “Almaric, there’s something I don’t understand about all this Adept stuff. Ignata said I was an Adept by blood, but wouldn’t the wand work for anyone? Why couldn’t I just give it to someone else and make them an Adept?”
Almaric reddened as if Holly had said he had food stuck in his beard. “Nay, my lady. You were given the wand because you were recognized as an Adept. Your wand, once lost, is almost useless to another, unless he had some innate power of his own. But even then, a wand that is not given freely can be a dangerous thing.”
“But, Almaric, you don’t have a wand, and you do magic too, don’t you?”
The old man picked a handful of purple wildflowers and placed them in a leather pouch around his neck. “Nothing very impressive, I daresay. Once I had friends among the Adepts, and certain objects were entrusted to me when the king’s rampage began. My minor magician tricks I learnt from my nurse, an outcast from the Realm herself.”
“The Realm—that’s where Ignata comes from? I’ve heard stories in my world about fairies. I guess that’s the same thing.”
“Take care, my lady,” said Almaric, his voice falling to a whisper. “The Good Folk take offense easily. We never speak of them as . . . ” He winked, then mouthed the word fairies. “They are the Good or Gentle Folk, we call them.”
“Ignata said she was an Elemental.”
“The Realm is its own kingdom under no man’s dominion. The Elementals are an especially powerful race within the Realm. The Cináed are the fire tribe. I imagine the being you speak of is one of them, judging by the state of Jade’s whiskers.”
The cat glared back at them. Holly hadn’t noticed how crinkly his whiskers were, as if he’d gotten too close to a candle flame.
“She did help me. The Elementals can’t be all bad.”
“Not bad, my lady,” Almaric said, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard. “I should think independent is more the word.”
Holly was less afraid of the Good Folk than she was of the king. “It’s so quiet. We’re just out here in broad daylight. Won’t the knights come looking for me?”
Ranulf turned to her. “Had we the time to tarry until sunset, I would have preferred it. But this path is safer than most. The king’s men will not gladly traverse the forest to the northern end. It is my hope his knights will give you up for lost.”
“Some of them, maybe,” Holly murmured. But she was sure that others would be willing to brave the forest to bring back the head of an Adept.
—
As they progressed, the grasses grew high and wild, slowing their pace. The little party had left the flat meadow and were obliged to climb steep hills thick with gorse and heather. Holly bounded up the first few easily and enjoyed the view from above, but going down was less fun. Occasionally she startled a flock of grouse, small brownish birds that Almaric said made fine hunting. She had to watch her feet carefully to keep from sliding down the gravelly slope, and her toes began to hurt as they pushed into the tips of her shoes. Every pebble poked her through the thin soles. But none of the others complained, so Holly said nothing.
Conversation died as the hills got steeper and the sun climbed. Just as Holly thought she could walk no farther, Almaric announced that his old bones could do with a rest and lunch.
Ranulf made do with a bit of grass and a jug of wine he had strapped across his back. Jade wandered off into the wood to stalk a rodent. Almaric pulled a woven blanket from his pack. He set out his expanding jelly pot (which, though it grew no larger, never ran out of jelly) along with a large loaf of bread and a funny kind of crock that kept the butter quite cold.
They ate their fill, and Almaric stretched out on the blanket, his fingers knitted behind his head.
The centaur brushed a fly from his flank. “Nap if needs must, Almaric. I will keep watch.”
“Yes, a fine idea,” Almaric agreed.
“I’ll go refill this,” Holly said, picking up the waterskin. She could hear water gurgling nearby. She stepped carefully into the wood, listening for the stream, but instead she heard a distinct rustling. She froze. “Jade? Are you here?”
Suddenly the black cat streaked through the forest and landed at her feet. “Be quick!” he whispered. R
anulf broke through the trees and grabbed Holly by one arm. Almaric took the other and they herded her deeper into the forest. “In here, my lady,” said Jade. He crawled under the skirt of an enormous pine tree and beckoned to her.
“Farther in!” Almaric whispered.
“No time,” said Ranulf.
Holly followed the cat. The tree’s branches hung nearly to the ground. She knelt on the soft nest of pine needles. On either side of the tree she could just make out Almaric and Ranulf.
“Jade, what is it?” she whispered.
“Knights, my lady.” He huddled closer to her.
Now she heard them. Two or three on horseback, just outside the wood—right where they had been resting. Holly held her breath.
The horses stopped. Holly could see one of the riders through the trees as he dismounted; he wore a chain-mail shirt and a belt with scabbard. He sat down in the grass with the other knight. Two younger boys appeared and walked the horses some distance away, where they unsaddled and brushed them. Were those the squires? Food was passed around and the party ate while the horses grazed. “ ’Tis sure to be a fine tournament, Bertran,” said one of the knights.
“I shall welcome the diversion,” answered the other. “I grow weary of the countryside’s unending quiet.”
“The talk is that you have brought your own diversion to your manor.”
Bertran laughed. “My squire brought me one of the Earthfolk who had escaped Lord Raethius. We made fine sport of him.”
“Earthfolk! Had he magic?”
“One of the Dvergar. Naught of great consequence. We let the villagers have their own sport, then left him to the ravens.”
“A good example you have made of him.”
“Aye—but hark! Be still.” Bertran paused, peering right at Holly in the little stand of trees. She held her breath. “Do you see something, Jordain? Just there?”
Both knights stood up, tensed, hands on their sword hilts. They took a step toward the wood.
“Do not move,” Ranulf said in the quietest of whispers.
But Holly made a sudden decision, one that might have looked very foolish. She straightened up and walked straight out of the trees to the clearing where they stood.
“Greetings!” said Jordain, relaxing as he saw her. “And how are you called, lad?”
It was a moment like none other Holly had ever experienced. It was like being a thief, with one hand in the cash box, as the policeman strolled up. She had no chance to run, or if she did, she’d quickly be caught. She couldn’t risk exposing the others, but if she could think on her feet, she might not have to. Holly swallowed. “I am . . . ” She groped for a name, then thought of her father. “I am Steven. My lord.” Belatedly, she bowed.
The knight inclined his head. “I am Sir Jordain of the North. Here be Sir Bertran of the Oak.” Bertran smiled tightly, his hand still resting on his sword hilt. “Where is your master, young Steven?”
Holly’s face grew hot. Her master? She could hardly trot out Almaric and call him a knight. “He’s . . . He’s just over that hill in the wood. We were hunting. His name is Sir Gallaway.” She pointed away from where Ranulf and Almaric were hiding, up the rise. “And I was . . . ” She glanced around, then remembered the grouse. “Oh! I was going ahead to, you know, startle the birds.”
Jordain raised his eyebrows as if impressed. “Bringing feast to the feast, is it? You are en route to the king’s tournament?”
“Yes!” Holly said eagerly, remembering Hornbeak’s news. What exactly had the falcon said? “In these times of peace, the king must encourage his knights to competition.”
Jordain’s eyes searched hers for a moment. She held his gaze, swallowing. “Aye,” he said at last. “Well spake, squire.”
“Jordain!” shouted the other knight. Bertran was standing some distance away at the edge of the wood, his sword drawn, his face taut. Holly’s heart stopped. With one boot heel he had Jade pinned to the ground by the throat. The cat thrashed in the dirt, but he was held fast.
“Stop!” Holly cried, running to Bertran. “Don’t hurt him!”
Jordain followed, sword drawn. “Stand aside, lad. Creatures of that hue once acted as familiars to the Adepts of old. This one has the look of an Intelligent Beast.”
“But he’s mine!”
Holly blurted the words before thinking, and the two knights stared at her, openmouthed. She had said something horrid, and now had to fix it. “I . . . I mean, he belongs to Sir Gallaway.”
Jordain’s lips curled in disgust. “Why would a knight of the realm befriend such a creature?”
Her throat went dry as Jade’s struggles grew feebler. She heard Ranulf stomping impatiently back in the trees; at any moment he would charge out, but then he would be fighting both knights and their squires. They’d kill him. Holly held her hand out to the trees in a gesture that she hoped Ranulf would understand as Wait, I’ve got this. “Here’s the truth,” she said to Jordain. “We found him in the woods, and we’re taking him to the castle as an—an enemy of the king. So he can be questioned. Or—or executed. Anyway, he’s our prisoner.”
Bertran stared long at her, as if trying to work out whether she was telling the truth. Jade’s body grew still. Not knowing what else to do, Holly lurched at Bertran, shoving him off balance. At the same time, something bright and hot erupted from the grass, and the knight cursed, brandishing his sword. Jade sprang up, hissing, his back bristling. Holly scooped him up in her arms, skittering back from what had looked like a brushfire. But it was gone now. She turned back to Bertran, whose face was red. “Please, I’m very sorry, sir knight. But my master . . . See, it would be my fault if he didn’t get credit for taking this cat alive to the castle. He’d beat me for sure.”
Bertran raised his sword. “I ought thrash you myself!” he cried, but Jordain held him back and shrugged. Bertran broke away, muttering. Jordain gave Holly a pointed look. “Perhaps you and your master ought move along, if ye are to make the castle afore nightfall.”
“Yes, thank you! I’ll just go and find him.” Holly darted off into the woods, jostling Jade in her arms. Behind her, she heard the knights call their squires to bring the horses. In a few moments, the party had moved on.
Holly watched them until their hoofbeats died away. Finally she let out her breath. Then, remembering Jade, she placed him gently on the ground. Almaric and Ranulf came out of the stand of pines where they had hidden, and everyone began to speak at once. Almaric beamed like a proud grandfather and told her how brave she was; but Ranulf was grave and said she ought not have risked it.
“But what else could I do? They were coming right for us,” said Holly.
“It is my duty to defend you, my lady,” the centaur insisted.
“And it is I,” Jade broke in, “who owe Her Ladyship the greatest debt.”
Holly looked down at him in surprise.
“I was foolish,” the cat admitted. “I had hoped to follow Your Ladyship and protect you if ’twas needed, until that beast caught me and threw me to the ground.” He bowed very low.
“Anyway, at least you’re okay.” Holly blushed. Her knees felt a bit shaky now that it was all over. “Did you start that fire?” she asked, suddenly remembering.
Jade raised his whiskered eyebrows. “It was Your Ladyship, surely?”
“Not me.” She explained what had happened to the others, but at Ranulf’s serious face, she tried to laugh it off. “It was the knights, probably. They dropped a match, I guess. Right?”
The centaur said nothing, only looked at her strangely, and Almaric stepped between them, clapping his hands and beckoning. “Onward, I think, yes?” he said.
They walked on, and Jade stayed quite close to Holly’s feet and seemed more respectful after their close call. Occasionally he even nuzzled her ankles, though when she tried to scratch his head, he darted away and preened himself to rearrange the fur. Mostly, the group remained silent as they climbed hill after hill. The late-afternoon sun was hot, a
nd Holly’s rough-woven tunic was itchy. She checked her compass frequently to see that they were still moving in a northwesterly direction, toward the high moors.
She wanted to ask Ranulf and Almaric about Raethius. The Sorcerer was the one subject they hadn’t seemed eager to talk to her about. She shivered; even thinking about him put a chill in the air. But no, that was silly. She remembered Bittenbender, the little man of the Dvergar, and the bitterness on his face. His people had been enslaved, he’d said, and even talking about Raethius had divided the magicfolk. As if he had power beyond his very presence.
Whatever Bittenbender thought, Almaric and the others were convinced of her magic. And she had produced the saucer of cream—well, buttermilk—out of thin air. Could they be right, that she had some innate power? And how did Mr. Gallaway know it if she did? Maybe just possessing the wand had changed her somehow.
But even though her wand was gone—maybe even destroyed—Holly felt different. Or perhaps not different so much as discovered. As if something had been slumbering just under the surface of her heart. She could feel the wand’s warmth even now, a kind of glow inside her, although faint. Ignata had thought it funny that she couldn’t fly or escape by herself. Why? Was she able to do magic, even without the wand? Had the wand recognized her, as Almaric had said?
Maybe it was the air of the place. Even with everything horrible that had happened, there was a rhythm in Anglielle that she almost knew. It was like searching for a melody that someone had asked her to sing, a song that she could hear in her mind but that seemed just out of reach. Everything was different here. She was different here.
—
The sun was low when they stopped at last. The distant moors loomed closer. “Let us bide here, Almaric,” said the centaur. “We shall reach the Wandwright in the morning.”
They chose a spot at the edge of the forest, where Holly would be sheltered beneath a tall rowan. Jade disappeared into the forest to hunt. Almaric gathered firewood, which he arranged in the center of a ring of stones that Holly had helped him collect. Then he took from his rucksack an egg-shaped object about half the size of a football. From either narrow end sprouted a tuft of gold metallic material like very bright tinsel. Almaric donned some gloves that looked like oven mitts, held the firestarter over the kindling, and pulled hard on the tinseled ends, as if trying to break open a Christmas cracker.
The Key & the Flame Page 19
