by Matthew Cody
“Aha!” said the Peddler, jabbing a crooked finger into the boy’s chest. “And that is why I am a magician and you waste your time shooting pointy sticks at things. Just a road! Roads cross kingdoms, connect distant peoples. Why, all you have to do is look down a road to remind yourself that anything’s possible. Who knows what you might find if you walk it? That’s magic, boy.”
Paul gave the old man a blank stare.
“Fine,” said the Peddler, with a sigh. “There’s ley-lines beneath the roads, see? Conduits of magical energy just there for the taking. The roads mark the ley-lines on the Summer Isle, and I’m the only one who can draw on their power.”
“Why’re you the only one?” asked Max.
“Are your ears stuffed with furry moss?” asked the Peddler. “Because I’m a magician!”
“Fine.” Max rubbed her eyes with her palms. The old man kept leading her off the topic and into absolutely useless conversations. “Peddler, are you sure the Piper didn’t get that magic pipe of his back?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” answered the Peddler, nodding. “It’s well hidden, girl.”
“But there’s only one way to be absolutely positive, isn’t there?” said Max. All this useless speculation was getting them nowhere. Guesses were the best any of them could manage at this point, and guesses wouldn’t bring Carter back. They needed to take action, and apparently they needed the Peddler. “If the witch is taking Carter to the Black Tower, can you help us get there first?”
The Peddler looked at Max, considering. “I don’t relish the idea of going to that place again.”
“What are you afraid of?” said Max. “The Piper’s powerless, right? You said yourself that you beat him.”
“It’s awfully dangerous to go picking at old wounds, girl,” said the Peddler. “I walk my road and I don’t look back. And when I last faced the Piper, I had help. The Princess of the Elves joined her magic with mine and…well, she doesn’t leave her castle much anymore.”
It was a strange thing with this old man, Max thought, watching him talk to the children of New Hamelin. Every day, the children struggled to remember the past, while the Peddler seemed to be trying hard to forget.
“Let the Princess stay in her castle,” said Emilie. “We don’t need her!”
Again, Max was struck by the venom in the girl’s voice whenever she mentioned the Princess. She resolved to ask Emilie about it, but not here in front of everyone else. Better to wait until they could speak in private.
“Peddler, will you help us or not?” asked Max. “Honestly, I don’t even care about the prophecy anymore; I just want to get Carter back.”
The Peddler mumbled something unintelligible.
“What did you say?” asked Max.
“I said you don’t know what you’re asking! The journey is fraught with danger, even for me. I don’t want to be responsible for the four of you throwing your lives away as well.”
“I’ll give you anything,” said Max, throwing up her hands in frustration. “You’re called the Peddler, surely there’s something you’d be willing to trade for your help. I’m not asking you for much, just get us to the tower!”
The Peddler squinted at her. “You’ll give anything?”
“Max,” warned Emilie. “Be careful.”
“I know what I’m doing, Emilie,” said Max, and she looked the Peddler in the eye. Standing, she was as tall as he was. “Name your price.”
“Very well,” the Peddler said after a moment. “Here’s my price—when the time comes, I want you to promise to show the Piper mercy.”
If Max had been drinking something, she would have spit it in the Peddler’s face. “What? I’m just trying to get my brother back.”
The Peddler kept staring at her. “Nevertheless, you walk the same road as the Piper now. Whether I help you or not, the prophecy has tangled your paths up together, and I fear it will only lead to confrontation. Should you emerge victorious, you may find you hold the Piper’s life in your hands. I want your promise you’ll spare it.”
“Wait a minute,” interrupted Paul. “You said it yourself, Peddler—the Piper’s a villain! If it comes down to it, I’ll put an arrow in him and not cry about it.”
“He wasn’t always a villain,” the Peddler said quietly. “Once, he was my friend. But that’s all I’ll say about that. If you want my help, I’ve told you my price.”
Max hadn’t been expecting this from the Peddler. Judging by the looks on her friends’ faces, they hadn’t either.
Max didn’t look at the others. She didn’t need to. Carter’s life might be at stake, and that made her decision easy.
“It’s a deal,” she said.
Despite Paul’s complaints, Max had had no problem agreeing to the Peddler’s terms. She wasn’t out for revenge—this wasn’t that kind of quest. And besides, Max could hardly envision a scenario where she would have to choose whether the Piper lived or died. All she cared about was seeing Carter again, seeing her mother and father again, and, if possible, helping the New Hameliners get back home.
The Peddler said that their path would take them as far as the Deep Forest, home to the Princess and her elves, and then they’d have to make their way north, across the Dark Moors to the tower. He promised that if they traveled with him, the miles between here and the Black Tower would pass swiftly. Magic is about belief, the Peddler said. Believe we will get there, and we will get there.
As the Peddler packed up his ridiculously overstuffed backpack, Lukas and Paul hovered around him like a couple of buzzing insects, trying to hurry the old man along. Emilie stood apart from the rest. She’d fought the idea of going anywhere near the Deep Forest, even though it was the quickest way. Eventually she’d stormed off in a furious pout, leaving the boys to wrangle the Peddler. Max followed her.
“Can I ask you something?” Max said, catching up with her.
“What is it?” answered Emilie.
“I’ve just noticed, I mean, it looks like, well…”
“Oh, honestly, girl!” said Emilie, turning on her. “The cat’s run off with your tongue and buried it alongside your good sense. If you have something to ask me, then just be out with it.”
“Okay. I noticed that whenever anyone mentions the Princess, or that forest of hers, you get all bent out of shape.”
“Bent out of what?”
“You look like you want to swat someone’s butt.”
Emilie’s cheeks darkened, and Max knew that the girl didn’t approve of that kind of language, but she’d asked for it. Max braced herself for a stern scolding but was surprised when Emilie lowered her voice instead. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t repeat what I’m about to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“I saw her once,” said Emilie. “I saw the Princess.”
“Really?” said Max. “But Lukas said—”
“I know what he said, but that’s because he doesn’t know. And he doesn’t need to. It happened the dawn after our first true night here on the Summer Isle. After that terrible night, I’d wandered away from the rest, looking for anyone who might have gotten lost in the dark, when I saw her. She appeared at the edge of the Shimmering Forest.”
“What did she do?” asked Max.
“She looked at me,” said Emilie. “I had no idea who she was back then, of course. I just knew that she was beautiful. She had shining silver hair, but her face was as young as yours or mine. The Princess looked at me, and I remember thinking to myself, I know that look. It’s the look you have when you’ve just seen a cockroach scuttle across your floor but you can’t be bothered to squash it.”
“Wow!” said Max.
“Then she turned her back and left us to die,” said Emilie, not bothering to conceal the bitterness in her voice. “But we survived in spite of her. That’s the fabled Princess everyone talks about.”
“But why keep it a secret from Lukas and the others?”
Emilie glanced back at Lukas and Paul. The boys were try
ing to help the Peddler repack his bag, but the old man kept slapping their hands away whenever they touched anything. “I didn’t mean to at first. I told Marc what I’d seen. But there was so much to do. We knew we needed to pick people’s spirits up, and we needed a defense against the dark, so we put the Princess out of our minds and started building. By the time Marc disappeared, we had a village to protect. And once Leon was gone…” Emilie gestured to Lukas and Paul. “Boys are foolish and wool-headed, especially those two. But do you know what kind of courage it takes to climb that gate wall night after night? The things they see out there in the dark are horrible enough, why fill their heads with another disappointment?”
Emilie shook her head. “The Princess doesn’t bother us, and her elves rarely cross the rivers. She’s not worth the worry.”
Although Max didn’t say it, she disagreed. Emilie had been carrying this secret around with her all this time, and Max could only imagine how lonely that must have felt. Try as she might, Max couldn’t understand why the girl hadn’t chosen at least one person to confide in, a friend.
But then again, maybe she just had.
They were interrupted by the sound of applause, a sure sign from the boys that the Peddler had finally finished packing. The Peddler had produced a pair of soft leather shoes, like moccasins, and Max was thankful to discover that they fit perfectly.
Finally, and much to Max’s relief, they set out together, leaving the Bonewood behind them. They marched through the morning, and Max did begin to notice that the landscape around them was changing faster than she’d expected. It didn’t feel like they were moving any faster than a brisk walk, and if Max bothered to pay attention to their surroundings, nothing much changed, but whenever her mind wandered, something magical happened. They would be traveling through scrublands one moment and suddenly it was hills the next, as if the miles were passing in the time it took to daydream. It was an odd sensation, to be sure.
As they traveled east, another change occurred, only this change filled Max with dread. The seasons of the Summer Isle were turning again. The morning’s summer was cooling, and an ominous wind began to blow. At first, Lukas tried to deny that the temperature was changing. After all, there had never been two Winter’s Moons this close together. But by late morning, there was no denying the autumn chill in the air. From then on, no one spoke of it—what use would it do? But whenever the wind picked up, Max glanced at her friends and found the same frightened looks. She knew that they were worried about the children back in New Hamelin, and the boys patrolling the gate wall, but they also feared for themselves. What would happen to them if they were caught out of doors when night fell? Would the Peddler’s magic be enough to protect them from the things that haunted the darkness?
Max was lost in her morose thoughts when she suddenly found the Peddler by her side. She didn’t know how long he’d been there, but they walked together for a time without talking, until Max couldn’t stand the awkward silence any longer. “Excuse me, um, Peddler,” said Max. “Actually, do you have, like, a proper name? To keep saying Peddler sounds weird.”
“Calling a girl Max sounds weird,” he said.
“It’s short for Maxine—oh, never mind,” said Max. Why did it seem that the old man was constantly baiting people into arguments that didn’t matter at all?
“I’ve been thinking about something. Back home, my father told me about this lost fairy tale, this story called ‘The Peddler and the Piper.’ That can’t just be a coincidence. That story is about you, isn’t it? You and him.”
The Peddler took a deep breath. “There are a lot of stories, but none of them are worth talking about. Certainly not with me.”
“Fine,” said Max. “Then I have another question.”
“Seems you’re full of them. Go ahead.”
“Could you send me and my brother back home?” asked Max. “After we rescue Carter. I mean, you’re a magician, so can’t you just cast a spell or something?”
The Peddler shook his head. “It’s not that simple anymore.”
“Why not?”
The Peddler sighed irritably. “Did you know that once upon a time the world of magic and the world of humans were one and the same?”
“I must have missed that history lesson,” said Max, giving the Peddler a skeptical look.
“It’s true,” said the Peddler. “Humans tell stories about witches and warlocks and elves and trolls because all those things existed. They kept to themselves, mostly, in the magic places—the deep forests and the high mountains. But time went on and humans kept spreading out, and the magic places grew smaller and smaller.
“Rather than die out, creatures of magic fled your world and came to the only haven left to them, to a land of ghosts and dreams that they called the Summer Isle. There were many pathways between the two worlds back then, but over time, as magic died out in your world, the pathways disappeared, too. The barriers between the two worlds hardened. The doors are all locked, and I don’t have the key.
“There may be a few left, just as there may be pockets of magic still on earth, but if there are, they’re hidden, and hidden well. The Piper is the only one I’ve known who could still make the journey, and he kept his secrets to himself. I can’t help you.”
Max had expected this sort of answer. If the Peddler possessed the power to send them home, then he would have used it to return the New Hameliners long ago, wouldn’t he have?
“Did you cross over, too?” asked Max. “Did you live on earth, like, a bajillion years ago?”
The Peddler actually chuckled. “I’m not as old as all that. But yes, I crossed over. I was one of the very last.”
“And when was that?”
The Peddler’s scowl returned, and for a moment Max wondered if she’d said something wrong.
“It was right when the Piper showed up,” he said.
“The Piper? Is that why you made me promise—”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore!” snapped the Peddler. “The past gives me heartburn.”
But Max wasn’t ready to quit just yet. She had the Peddler talking, and there was still one question she needed to ask. “Okay, I have one more question.”
The Peddler glared at her. Max worried that he might take a swing at her with his walking stick.
“It’s not about the past!” Max said quickly. “But it is about the Piper. I want to know what’s so terrible about him getting free? He’s been locked up for hundreds of years, you said. Is there any kind of parole?”
“Parole?”
“It means getting released for good behavior.”
“I know what the word means,” said the Peddler. “And you are thinking that if I can’t help you, and if the prophecy is true, then the only way to get you and your friends home again might be to free the Piper from his prison.”
Max blushed. That was exactly what she’d been thinking. It had been on her mind all morning, ever since they’d left the Bonewood. It wasn’t that she wanted to free the Piper—he could rot in prison for all she cared. But if freeing him was the only way to get home…
“The prophecy says that the Piper’s prison will open, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” said the Peddler.
“Then what?” said Max. “What happens then?”
The Peddler paused before answering. “Then I suppose we’ll learn whether seven centuries of imprisonment was enough to make him change his ways.”
By the time they’d crossed the Eastern Fork, it was just early evening, but across the Summer Isle it was already late autumn. The trees of the Deep Forest were so massive, the forest’s skyline dominated the horizon like a mountain range and continued on for as far as anyone could see. According to their map, it stretched from the midlands all the way to the southern coast. The Deep Forest was a realm unto itself. It was an imposing sight, made more bizarre by the magical change of seasons that was occurring all around them. It was as if the seasons were set on fast-forward, and the experienc
e was at once breathtaking and dizzying. As they watched, the leaves were shifting through various shades of gold and red before eventually being blown free by ever-stronger winds. Already the Peddler’s Road was mostly hidden beneath a deep carpet of fallen leaves. And somewhere in the midst of that unearthly forest was a castle, and in that castle lived a princess.
But Max and her companions were not here for her. They followed the Peddler’s Road as it traced the edges of the forest, never quite penetrating its forbidding borders, until at last they reached a crossroads. The road continued east unchanged, but there were two other forks as well. One led south into the forest, while the second fork could barely be called a road at all. Perhaps it had been a road once, but now it was little more than a collection of broken flagstones mostly swallowed by weeds. Max could see in the distance where it disappeared altogether, giving way to barren, foreboding moorlands to the north. The Dark Moors, they were called—and even in the daylight, they seemed to have earned their name.
While the northern road had crumbled into ruin, the southern route into the Deep Forest was barred. Where the road met the forest, someone had erected a large wooden gate. It was adorned with animal pelts and strange wreaths woven from weeds and thorns. A giant rack of antlers of some unknown beast hung at the center of it all.
“Is this for real?” asked Max as she examined the gate. It would have been easy enough to walk around if one really wanted to enter the forest, but this was obviously intended as a warning, not a true barrier.
“You see now,” said Paul. “Elves don’t like visitors. They’re as bad as ogres, only you don’t hear them coming.”
Lukas was the only one who didn’t seem interested in the gate. He was facing the opposite direction, toward the ruined path and the moors beyond. “There was a road here once,” he said. “But it’s not on the map.”
“An old road,” said the Peddler. “I haven’t walked it in a long, long time.”
“But the Black Tower is that way,” said Lukas. “We have to go north to find Carter.”
