The Key & the Flame

by Claire M. Caterer

  “You require a wand,” Belisanne prompted.

  “Yes, Your . . . Ladyship. The prince took mine, and my brother and friend are prisoners in the castle. I don’t know how else to get them out or how to get home. The wand was how I got here in the first place.”

  Holly sensed the inadequacy of her story, and glanced at Ranulf, standing behind her.

  “We have told Her Ladyship of your arrival and our meeting,” he said. “In fact, all the events as far as we know them.”

  “Oh.”

  “Tell me of the Beyond, Lady Adept,” said Belisanne. “Beyond the end of the world, from whence you come.”

  “Well . . . it’s sort of like this. I mean, this place, Anglielle, looks a lot like my world did centuries back, I think.”

  “Much has changed.” The Wandwright gazed deeply into Holly’s eyes.

  “Yes. It’s very . . . different.”

  At her feet, Holly felt a growl rumble through the cat’s body.

  “Peace, Jade,” said the centaur sharply.

  “It is different there, in the Beyond. All is fire and smoke and iron, noise and blinding light.”

  The Wandwright was speaking softly. The surrounding garden faded as Holly’s eyes locked with the Wandwright’s. She felt something inside her head—a nudging, an opening.

  “I don’t . . . ”

  “The rage and war, a million words, cataracts of figures, the dwindling silence. The spaces are filled; the wild emptiness closed. Time itself is compressed, hurtling, suffocating . . . ”

  The voice caught, as if choked with tears. Holly’s mind poured forth pictures unbidden. She saw the immensity of her world in a moment’s time—bright screens and neon lights, vast cities, green strings of binary code, stripped mountains, burning seas, and the noise of seven billion souls crying.

  And then, other voices crying.

  Even as Holly’s head came close to bursting, somehow her mind pushed the other way, and the pressure was relieved a tiny bit. And her vision changed.

  It wasn’t her world, she realized. She saw a high cliff teeming with black birds, ravens and crows, and in the midst of them, a tall, thin figure in a winged cloak, arms thrown up, commanding the heavens. From this horribly high, open vantage point, Holly could see armored knights below swarming like insects over the land, and before them fell the Mounted with their swords and the Dvergar with their axes, the Adepts huddled in their cliffside homes, slaughtered in their beds. Lightning broke from the heavens and set the verdant hills aflame, and everywhere that magic was raised as a feeble weapon it was struck down by a greater and darker power, the one who stood on the cliff, whispering to the elements.

  Raethius of the Source.

  A searing pain exploded in Holly’s head.

  And then, a pinch in her thighs, and her mind snapped shut. Jade had leaped onto her lap, claws dug in. He bared his teeth at the Wandwright.

  “Peace, friend,” said the lady softly. “I mean Her Ladyship no harm.”

  Jade’s fur bristled. “To invade an Adept’s mind is to steal her power.”

  “I merely wish to see.”

  “Then ask it of her!”

  “Jade, you speak out of turn,” Ranulf said.

  “Nay, the familiar speaks truth. Her Ladyship is untrained. And I am uninvited.” Belisanne inclined her head toward Jade, who relaxed.

  The pain in Holly’s head eased. “You saw everything in my mind?”

  “Not everything, child. But much. Your world is a strange one. And, as you have seen, so is this.” The Wandwright smiled faintly, as if she and Holly shared a secret. “But this bridge has been crossed before. Strange that you do not know of it.”

  Did Belisanne mean that someone else had come to Anglielle before Holly? “No, I’m sorry, I never heard of . . . the bridge being crossed. I’d be happy to tell you all about my world, but we don’t have much time.” She thought of Ben, and her stomach twisted. “Look, we’ve come a long way, and I just need to know. Can you make me another wand? It’s the only way I can help Ben and Everett.”

  Almaric’s face went scarlet. “Lady Belisanne, forgive Her Ladyship. She is not schooled in our ways—”

  “Our new Adept is untamed, but the better for it, I think. And she has chosen her familiar well.” The Wandwright rose, poured another cup of tea, then walked back to her seat. She arranged her gown and sipped the tea. “I have not forged a wand for many an age. I am the last of my kind, and I am not young. I have guarded my powers in secret, hoping to find another of my race to apprentice. Yet I fear they have all been vanquished.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Holly. “Ranulf told me about your apprentice.”

  “The king himself ran his sword through her. An unarmed child.” The Wandwright’s face was still and peaceful.

  “That’s awful!”

  “He did what he thought needful. Without a Wandwright, the Adepts lose the power of the wand. ’Tis not their only power, but it is considerable.” Belisanne peered keenly at Holly. “How will you wield your wand, Lady Adept? With fire and war?”

  “I just want to take the boys home. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

  “But there is one who would bring war.”

  “You mean another Adept?” Holly asked.

  “Perhaps. I have seen him in the movements of the river. But a ripple does not always become a wave.” Lady Belisanne shifted her gaze to the salamander perched on Holly’s shoulder. Again the faint smile lit her face. “Now this shows true promise.” She held out a pale hand to the creature. It backed away, its sticky feet tickling Holly’s neck. “Come.” She spoke softly, but with such command that the salamander crept onto her palm. It turned back to Holly with a desperate look.

  “You won’t hurt it?”

  The Wandwright held the creature up for all of them to see. “The Golden Salamander guards my home. Only those of great power are able to walk into the flames and release it. For this you will be rewarded. It shall never leave your side, and offer you protection always. In fact, it sensed you from far away, and sent its protection ahead, did it not?”

  “You mean those fireballs I kept seeing? With the birds, and the knights yesterday?” Holly asked. The salamander blinked its bulbous eyes at her longingly.

  “It is one of only three that I know of, the one called Áedán. The name comes from the Old Tongue, meaning ‘fire.’ ”

  Belisanne extended her hand, and Áedán scampered up to Holly’s shoulder, shuddering. “Once freed, the salamander can never part from its liberator, lest it die.”

  “That doesn’t sound very free,” Holly said. She caught a glance from Almaric and closed her mouth.

  “It may hibernate for a time until its keeper returns, but if she does not, the creature will die. The salamander’s freedom is not measured in life or death. You are chosen most carefully. Áedán could not be bound to one who does not come from this land, whose blood does not flow in the very earth and water of Anglielle. And this creature was bound to you by something else. A destiny.”

  “You mean like fate? My future already laid out?”

  “No future is predetermined. The choice is always yours.”

  “But the choice to do what?” asked Holly.

  “That is to be seen. It is enough to know that the salamander sees greatness in you.”

  The Wandwright picked up her teacup and sipped slowly. Several moments of silence slipped by. Holly sighed, then finally said, “But what’s this got to do with getting another wand? Can you help me?”

  The Wandwright took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Many things must be considered in the forging of a wand. The first is the cycle of the moon. In this you are fortunate. The moon is waxing, and thus it is a fortuitous time to forge a wand. The second is the movement of the stars. Ranulf, tell us of the dance of the heavens.”

  “The Wand may be seen, my lady, in the hour before daybreak, on the western horizon.”

  “Another boon for thee, Lady Adept. Now. T
he season of the year: ’Tis the season of fire; Midsummer approaches. A wand is best forged in the season of the winds, but this shall do, before the sun circles back to the time of earth and death.”

  Holly held her breath.

  “Finally, the necessary materials. The time of blooming is upon us. I believe we shall find what is needed. And it is your great fortune that I have preserved a very few of the crystals that the Earthfolk mined long ago. Thus, Lady Adept, a wand may indeed be forged. You have told me it is to be put to noble purpose.”

  “Yes, Your Ladyship. I swear I won’t hurt anyone, not even the king.”

  “And what of Raethius, who holds the king in his grasp?”

  Holly glanced at Ranulf, who sighed. “No, not even him. I wouldn’t be strong enough anyway.”

  “It is well,” said Belisanne, “if true. But how will you train? A wand must learn its mistress, else it be like a venomous serpent in the hands of a child.”

  “I guess that’ll be the hard part. But I have to try, Your Ladyship. I don’t know what else to do.” Holly swallowed hard, willing herself to look Belisanne in the eye. “Please?”

  The Wandwright stood suddenly. “Our time grows short, Lady Adept. We shall begin.”

  Chapter 33

  * * *

  The Stolen Wand

  The same morning the Wandwright agreed to forge Holly’s wand found Everett and Ben waking up to another day on the tournament lists.

  Their circumstances had changed considerably for the better. Prince Avery had ordered them to be moved from the North Tower to a lower chamber on the east side of the castle. It was still little better than a cell, but Dart had brought them thin pallets to sleep on. Ben complained that the straw poked through the mattress and made him sneeze, but when Everett laid his jacket over it, even Ben admitted it was better than the stone floor.

  When they woke up, the boys were summoned to Avery’s chamber. They found him sitting in front of enough food to feed ten boys. “A knight—and even a squire—must build his strength,” he explained, passing them platters of eggs, bread, and thickly sliced meats. Lord Clement, standing in a corner of the room with a tankard of ale, scowled as Everett seized a piece of venison. Everett fought the urge to make a face at him. Avery was their friend, whatever Clement thought. He and Ben were starting to think of him as just another boy, albeit a stiff and oddly dressed one.

  As soon as they had eaten their fill, they returned to the lists. Everett mounted his horse gingerly. He had trained several hours the day before with Loverian. His shoulder and chest ached with bruises from the pummeling he had endured. And he wasn’t used to riding for quite so long.

  Though Avery insisted his ankle had healed, Everett noticed the prince was limping, and he called Loverian to help them all the same. “He is a boon to Sir Everett’s training.”

  “He’d better be,” Ben muttered. “You’ve only got two more days to get this down.”

  Loverian brought his horse alongside Everett’s. “His Highness tells me you will be using magic during this tournament. Do you think it fair?”

  “I’m just doing what I’m told,” said Everett.

  “It be less than chivalrous.”

  “I haven’t much choice, have I?”

  Loverian clenched his jaw. “Perhaps not. But I know a rogue when I see one.” Loverian turned his horse away. “Your Highness. How would you have me aid this young knight?”

  “Allow that he should practice the joust again, Sir Loverian. I shall ride alongside, and we shall consult on how best to use the wand.”

  “As Your Highness commands.”

  Avery rode with Everett to the far end of the tilt and pulled the wand carefully from a pouch at his side.

  “I hope I don’t hurt him,” Everett said. “I’d rather stay on his good side.” At the far end, Loverian’s horse pawed the ground.

  “Let us essay a practice. Aim the wand at the jousting target . . . there.” Avery pointed away from them. A long stick wrapped in rags and affixed with a shield was planted in the grass. A couple of boys were running at it and pummeling it with lances. Avery called to Ben. “Pray tell the squires to be gone from that space. Sir Everett will be using the wand.”

  Ben scampered onto the open field, waving his arms wildly. “Clear the area! Clear the area!” Everett positioned the lance Ben had handed him, awkwardly palming the wand in his left hand. He had no hand free to rein the horse.

  Avery signaled Loverian that they were ready. Everett gripped the wand, but it pulsed unevenly, cold to warm, and he had a hard time holding it steady. Loverian spurred his horse and came at him.

  He and Avery started off as well. It was awkward; he would have to reach the wand across his body to point it at the target, and he wasn’t sure at what point in the run to do it.

  The knight was twenty yards away. Now ten.

  “Strike!” Avery shouted, and Everett flung his wand arm across to the right, missing Avery’s nose by inches, and aimed at the target.

  Loverian’s lance came down.

  A blue flame hissed from the end of Everett’s wand and sizzled, harmless, in the grass. The lance caught Everett in the chest, quite off guard, and jolted him sideways. He clung briefly to the horse’s back with his thighs, but a moment later he tumbled onto the dirt.

  He had fallen from horses before, but the lance’s blow had knocked the breath out of him.

  “Ev! You okay?” Ben asked, bending over him.

  It took a few moments before Everett could breathe again. “It’s too hard, Avery,” he panted. “I can’t do both. I wasn’t ready for the lance. I never even got my shield up.”

  Loverian reached out a gloved hand to help him up. “ ’Twas a bold attempt.”

  “It was a stupid attempt!” Ben said. “There’s no way he can do this. Just forget the wand.”

  “He lacks naught but practice,” said the prince. “Though, in truth, the wand’s display was less than impressive.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t have control over it,” said Everett, still panting out every word.

  “That,” Avery said, “will change.”

  —

  After two more falls in the dirt, it became apparent that the training was moving too fast. Even the prince saw the wisdom of putting aside the jousting for the moment and concentrating on Everett’s wand work.

  “Maybe if you flick your wrist more,” Ben suggested. He was standing with Everett on the edge of the tournament pitch. Everett waved the wand with a jerky motion. A small blue flame dribbled out.

  “It may be a bit like swordplay,” said the prince, taking the wand from him. He swung it in an arc as if brandishing a rapier. A solid yellow beam like a laser shot from it and ignited the grass. Everett leaped up and stamped it out.

  “Hey, that was good!” Ben said.

  The prince blushed. “I knew not what it would do.”

  “Nor me.” Everett took the wand and imitated Avery’s move, but all he got was the same tepid blue spark as before. He couldn’t even get the wand to warm up in his hand now; it seemed to actually dislike him. Maybe the little fairy Sol had been right. He certainly wasn’t seeing the great magic she’d talked about.

  “Are you concentrating?” Ben asked. “I’m sure you’re supposed to transfer your power to it mentally.”

  “Listen . . . Lissssten.”

  “I am listening. I’m doing the best I can!” Everett said.

  “Okay, I’m just suggesting.”

  “Inhale the powers of the sun.”

  “I don’t see what the sun has to do with it,” said Everett.

  “What sun?” Ben squinted up into the cloud cover. “Everett, are you okay?”

  “Perchance he hit his head in the fall,” Avery said.

  “I’m fine,” said Everett. “Just let me concentrate.”

  He inhaled, took his stance, then heard something, very close to his ear: “I would speak to you alone.”

  Sol?

  Everett
stood up straight. “You know, I think you’re right, Your Highness. Maybe I should rest a bit before I go on.”

  The prince, who was squinting at him strangely, relaxed. “Of course. Squire, secure thy knight’s horse and allow that he rest beneath yon poplar for a time.”

  Ben grumbled, but he went to do as he was told, and Avery returned to the lists to practice with Loverian.

  “Sol?” Everett whispered. “Where are you?”

  A featherlike touch brushed down his jawline. He blinked as a beam of light darted into his eyes. He sat with his back against the tree trunk and drew one knee up. The winged creature settled onto it and smiled.

  “Won’t the others see you?” he asked.

  “They have not the Sight. But send yon squire away so that we may speak freely.”

  She spoke as Ben approached, sniffling.

  “You should rest too,” said Everett to him. “Take your allergy medicine.”

  “Am I all blotchy?” Ben brushed his cheeks with his fingers. “Once the hives start, I’m done for.”

  “Why don’t you go and wash up? Stay at the well for a bit, away from the horses. It’ll do you good.”

  “What about the prince?”

  “I’ll cover for you. He’s busy anyway.”

  “Okay. Tell him I’ll be right back.” Ben walked toward the well, fumbling in his pouch for his pills.

  Everett waited until he was out of earshot, then turned back to the tiny creature on his knee. “I’m so glad you came back.”

  Sol bowed her head, looking up at him through a veil of eyelashes. “You have acquired the wand, I see.”

  “Yeah, how about that? Avery just gave it to me. He says he wants to go to our world, but I can’t figure out why, really.”

  “You are fated to master it. And how goes your training?”

  “Pretty miserable, actually. I’m rubbish at this. Even Avery can make it do things.”

  “You are a thief, but I shall teach you to master your power.”

  “I told you, I’m not a thief—” Everett began.

  “You are as the wand perceives you,” said the fairy coolly.