by Karen Frost
~*~
Mary Jane slept fitfully. In her dreams she heard a woman’s voice calling her name from far, far away. She struggled to follow it back to its source, but lost in mazes of darkness she never came any closer. Then came the sound of a loud crash and she woke as though bursting from underneath water, her lungs gasping for air. She glanced at Maude, but her sister was sleeping soundly in her bed. Mary Jane hugged her knees to her chest and shivered. The night was cold, and damp. After a minute, she lay back down and pulled the covers tight around her. When she woke again at seven, Maude was already awake and eager to start the day.
“Come on, Mary Jane, let’s eat breakfast quickly and leave as soon as we can. I want to see Mr. Brumby again,” she urged.
She was shaking Mary Jane's arm. Mary Jane smiled at her younger sister.
“Alright, Maude, but you had better eat a big breakfast; I won’t have you complaining all morning that you’re hungry,” she said warned gently.
Her own stomach grumbled as if in agreement. Maude bounced off of Mary Jane's bed and cheerfully put on a pale yellow jumper and white tights. For shoes, she selected small yellow sneakers with white laces.
She chattered as she dressed, “You’ll see, Devorian will be our own magic world. It will be so much fun to play in. And we'll be able to go there any time we like!”
Mary Jane laughed.
"Calm down, Maude. We've only been there once."
Maude didn't bother answering and ran downstairs to the kitchen once she finished putting her shoes on. Mary Jane followed a few minutes later, after she had dressed and washed her face. She found Jack already in the kitchen making toast and eggs in two pans on the stove. Maude poured herself a big glass of milk and sat at the table, dangling her feet from her chair while Mary Jane set to buttering the slices of bread.
“Now we really must make rules,” Mary Jane said in her best adult voice. “First of all, no one should go into the mirror alone. There will be no sneaking off to have adventures without telling someone first.”
“You’re just afraid someone else will have fun without you,” Maude said petulantly, kicking her feet against her chair.
“I am not!” Mary Jane protested.
“I agree with Mary Jane,” Jack said. “We still don't know if Devorian is safe. I think there's something Mr. Brumby isn't telling us. Furthermore, I think we should never stay the night in Devorian. It means that we won’t be able to venture too far away from the mirror tree, but what would we tell the adults if we didn’t come home?”
“Thirdly, no one should bring anything from Devorian back through the mirror. What if we brought something back that doesn’t exist here, like rainbow-colored flowers? Or worse, what if Mother walked in on us having a conversation with Mr. Bushy in the kitchen?” Mary Jane said.
“But I wanted to show Mr. Brumby Father’s books,” Maude pouted. “I’m sure he would like them.”
“You’ll just have to describe them to him,” Jack said, patting her on the head.
Maude frowned and stuck her tongue out at him. Then she put her egg on top of a piece of toast and bit into it. The yellow yolk ran everywhere, coating her fingers. She put the piece of toast down and licked her fingers until they were clean again. Jack sighed and handed her a white napkin, which she used to wipe her mouth.
After they finished their breakfast, the children washed their dishes and set them out to dry, then walked together up to the attic. The morning sun shone brightly through the attic’s small window, illuminating everything in the room. The mirror looked shabbier than ever, with the fake gold paint of the frame chipped and cracked in places, but Devorian looked as beautiful and green as ever in it. The children stood in front of it and prepared themselves to cross through. Mary Jane bent down to tie the lace of Maude’s shoe, which had come untied. Jack tucked a red handkerchief into his back pocket and smoothed his unruly black hair over his forehead with his palm.
“Are you ready?” He asked his sisters.
“Yes,” they agreed in unison.
Then Maude, Mary Jane and Jack stepped through the mirror and into Devorian for the second time. It was already mid-day there. The sun was shining brightly and there were no clouds in the endlessly blue sky. Everything looked just as it had the day before. A playful breeze batted at Maude’s hair and tugged at the hem of her yellow dress.
Jack turned back to the tree and wrapped the clothing rope around the nearest branch, explaining, “I suppose we might as well leave this here so that we'll always know which is the right tree. Still, it's best if we do a bit to hide it. We mustn’t have curious animals following it and then winding up in the attic. Imagine what Mrs. Peters would say if she found Mr. Bushy having himself a cup of tea in the kitchen!”
The children laughed for a minute, imagining the fat Mrs. Peters chasing the furry badger around the kitchen with a rolling pin, then they began walking single file through the woods towards Mr. Brumby’s house. Between the three of them, they remembered enough of the forest to recognize the way, and after a short walk they arrived in front of the small hill into which Mr. Brumby’s house was set. Jack knocked on the yellow door and they waited patiently for it to open. When it did, it revealed Mr. Brumby wearing a small white apron tied around his waist and holding a tray of cookies fresh out of the oven in one paw.
“Why hello, children!” He exclaimed. “Come in, come in, oh, do come in.”
He opened the door wider and the three children entered the house. They arranged themselves around the parlor just as they had done the day before. The house felt smaller than before, but they didn't mind. The house smelled marvelously of cinnamon and sugar.
Mr. Brumby followed them with the cookies, explaining, “I’ve just been baking. Would anyone like a cookie?”
“Thank you,” Mary Jane said politely, taking one and setting it in the palm of her hand.
Jack and Maude each took one as well, murmuring their thanks, and Mr. Brumby set the tray down on the little table next to his chair. He then disappeared into the kitchen and they heard a loud banging of bowls and pans as he quickly cleaned up in the kitchen. He returned a moment later, no longer wearing his apron, and settled himself in his chair.
“I certainly am glad to see you humans again,” he said, nibbling on a cookie. “I don't often have visitors, and humans!”
“We want to hear more about Devorian!" Maude exclaimed.
"But first, Mr. Brumby, you said yesterday that there was another human in Devorian, but that she was dangerous. Why is she dangerous? Who is she?” Jack asked.
Mr. Brumby began to caress the fur of his tail nervously with his paws. His brown eyes shifted from one child to the next but he would not meet their gazes.
He stammered, “Wouldn’t you like to hear about something else instead? I know so many stories about Devorian. Won’t you ask me for another one? The story of Aldous the brave Tortoise, or the epic of Rodney Fleetfoot perhaps?”
“Yes, we would, but first we would to hear about the human, Mr. Brumby,” Jack insisted firmly. "If she's dangerous, we need to know more about her."
Maude said gently, walking over to pat Mr. Brumby on the paw, “Don’t be scared, Mr. Brumby.”
“You’re very kind," Mr. Brumby said weakly.
He straightened in his chair and took a steadying breath.
"Well, if you must hear it—and I warn you it is a dark tale—then I will tell you all that I know. It is a tale that has been passed down through the generations of my family, and it has to do with magic. To understand this story, you must know that there are two kinds of magic in Devorian: wild magic and animus magic. Wild magic, as I told you yesterday, is not of Devorian. It is that strange and foreign magic that has slowly been entering into our world for the past hundred years. We do not know from whence it comes or why. The other magic is animus magic, which is Devorian’s own natural magic. It has always been here. It is the magic in every blade of grass, every tree, every animal, and even in every human
.
‘Magic is…a force. It is power, it is life, it is creation. It is not easily harnessed. No animal now, and very few humans before, could control magic. To be used, magic must be drawn out of the very earth, and then the wielder must be strong enough to bend it to his or her will. Magic alone is neither good nor bad, but it is made so by whoever wields it. Unfortunately, those who seek to use magic most often do so for harm rather than good.
'Now, when our story begins some one hundred years ago the human king was a jealous, brutal man. It happens, you know. There are good kings, and there are bad kings, and this was a particularly bad one. One day, what I believe in those times was called a ‘hedgewitch,’ that is, a human with a tiny understanding of magic, in a village far from Tarah made a prophecy: she said that a girl child would be born who would be the greatest sorceress who ever lived.
‘The king heard the prophecy and knew that he must find the child out and hide her away, for whoever controlled her could control all of Devorian and he did not want her falling into the hands of his ambitious and scheming lords. He sent search parties out immediately, quietly looking for a young girl who could wield magic. For years they searched, despairing of ever finding her, until at last his soldiers found her among the herding folk of the Western Plains. She was a quiet girl who tended the goats during the day and used her magic to make her dolls come alive and dance and keep her company. Having found her, they tore her from her family and brought her back to Tarah.
‘She never saw her family again. When she arrived in Tarah, the king locked her in a dark tower with no one to keep her company, determined that she would never get out again. He ordered the court magician to bind her from being able to use magic so that she could not be kidnapped and used against him by his barons and lords if they ever found out about her. The magician was weak, compared to her, but by investing all of his power into the spell he was able to hold her.
‘But one cannot hold the tail of a tiger forever. One day, the tiger will escape and turn against its keeper. Throughout the years of loneliness and confinement, her lost childhood and the future that the king stole from her, day by day, the girl's mind began to twist. She was no longer the herder girl who once played with dolls, but instead a cold, cruel girl determined to one day destroy the king who had taken her from her family and ordered her locked away. On the day she turned eighteen, the girl, named Mirrin, at last was able to overcome the court magician's spell and break free from the magical chains that had bound her for years. Still unsure of her powers, she fled to the Far Reaches, a land so far north no human had ever before gone there, to plan her revenge.
‘The Far Reaches are a terribly cold, remote place. Very few animals can survive the snow and the wind on the high mountains, and yet it was there Mirrin used magic to build herself a castle. For one year, no news was heard of her among the humans. The king lived every day in mortal fear of what she would do if ever she returned to Tarah, for he knew that she would come for him. But his spies, sent one after another to the Far Reaches, were all lost in the snow and never returned, and so he waited.
'Using her magic, Mirrin was building herself an army of stone soldiers to conquer Tarah. She wanted to destroy the city brick by brick, starting with her prison. She was not content with revenge against the king; she wanted to see the entire city burned to the ground. She was almost ready to lead her army against Tarah when…Oh my, I must go back. You see, the king’s daughter had some small degree of skill in magic as well. She was stronger than the court magician, although weaker than Mirrin. The princess knew that Mirrin planned to attack Tarah, and although she did not love her cruel father, she loved Tarah and its people and wanted to save them.
‘She felt Mirrin gathering magic from all the corners of the kingdom, calling it to her, and knew that if she did not stop the sorceress, all of Devorian would suffer. Bravely, she left for the Far Reaches, traveling alone for months until she found the castle. The princess knew that she had no hope of stopping Mirrin with her own feeble magic, but she had been taught by the court magician a powerful and terrible spell: by sacrificing her life, she could use the animus magic within herself to create an unbreakable flame that would trap Mirrin within its boundaries for the rest of time. And so, when she at last arrived at Mirrin's castle, called Morlach, she whispered the words of power and transformed into a great green flame that encircled the castle and cast Mirrin into a deep trance from which she was never supposed to wake again.
‘So long as she slept, Mirrin was not a threat to the people of Tarah. Her magic, which had given life to her stone soldiers, quickly dissipated and the army--which stood outside the flame--became little more than a collection of rocks on the mountainside, quickly covered by layers of falling snow. So they stand even today, the eternal guardians of Morlach. We animals stay away from the area. It is a dark place, full of evil intent. Even though she is human and we animal, parents often threaten their younglings, ‘Be good or the witch Mirrin will get you.’”
He paused to think for a moment, then said, “I hadn't thought of it before, but it was at approximately that time that wild magic began to spread into Devorian. Yes, I'm sure it was, for the humans scattered and slowly disappeared almost immediately after Mirrin was entrapped.”
"You think the princess' spell, the spell that created the flame, somehow allowed the wild magic to come in," Maude said.
"I suppose it's possible," Mr. Brumby agreed.
“Well I think it's a good thing Mirrin’s trapped forever,” Mary Jane said. “She sounds just awful.”
The fox shook his head and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
“Unfortunately, that is not the case. You see, the spell is supposed to create an eternal flame, but great spells require great sorcerers, and the princess was little more than a witch. Her flame is not as eternal; one day it will burn out, and on that day, Mirrin will be released from the spell.”
“When will that be?” Mary Jane asked, alarmed.
Mr. Brumby walked to the window and pulled the red curtains shut, looking out the window furtively as he did so. The red hairs along his back stood on end.
He told the nervously, “You needn’t worry about that. But then, perhaps it is best…that is, it may be better if you not come again to Devorian.”
“Mr. Brumby!” Mary Jane exclaimed. “Do you mean to tell us that the spell is in imminent danger of failing?”
“For one hundred years the spell has held,” Mr. Brumby said slowly, “but I think it will not hold much longer. There are rumors that the snow in the Far Reaches is melting. In a few days, perhaps more, the flame will die and Mirrin will be free again.”
“What will you do then, Mr. Brumby?” Maude asked.
Mr. Brumby rubbed his paws together and began bustling around the room, gathering the plates and teacups. They clattered together noisily and he carried them to the kitchen, where he deposited them in the sink. When he returned to the parlor, he began to pace back and forth across the living room on his stick-thin black hind legs.
“The world has changed since Mirrin was entranced. Tarah lies in ruins. Her enemies are long dead. Perhaps she will live quietly and in peace…”
“What is it, Mr. Brumby?” Maude asked.
The fox had stopped pacing. He shivered and would not look at her.
“Oh, dear little Maude!” He exclaimed in distress. “I fear I've made a terrible mistake. I should have told you never to return to Devorian, but I was so happy to have human visitors that I did not warn you. I fear that when Mirrin is free…well, I thought yesterday after you had gone that she could try to use the portal to your world to leave Devorian. Oh, I cannot bear to think of such a thing! It would be all my fault, encouraging you to return here as I did.”
“Impossible!” Jack sputtered. “We’ve only come through the mirror twice. How would she know about our world? And why would she want to go there?”
“I think there is very little that happens in Devorian that Mirrin does no
t know,” Mr. Brumby explained apologetically. “She is a powerful sorceress, even trapped inside a binding spell. But of course I am probably mistaken. It was just a thought, probably fanciful. ”
The fox smiled weakly. The children sat silently, each contemplating the fox’s words. In an instant, their secret, fantasy world had turned from a bright and cheery place with talking animals to a dark and ominous trap.
After several minutes of silence, Mr. Brumby said, “Oh, I am sorry to have put you in danger. I should never have allowed you to return. You must leave here at once, and after you’ve gone through this mirror of yours, you must destroy it. Then I think the sorceress will not be able to pass through it.”
“Yes,” Jack agreed, standing.
Mary Jane stood and nodded gravely as well. Her mouth was drawn into a tight line, and her red eyebrows were pulled together anxiously. Mr. Brumby helped Maude out of her chair, holding her small hand between his two smaller black paws, then made a little bow to the three children. His eyes were sad.
He said wistfully, “I wish that the timing of your visit to Devorian had been otherwise. I should have liked to learn of your own world. Alas. Good luck to you.”
The children left Mr. Brumby's house and quickly made their way through the forest. It seemed as though they could feel Mirrin’s eyes upon them as they walked, and it made the hairs on their necks prickle. Maude clutched Jack's hand in her left hand and Mary Jane's in her right, and they held tightly to each other for dear life. They had never been so glad as when they finally reached the tree that would take them back to their world. Jack sent Maude and Mary Jane back first, then rolled up the rope and carried it with him back through the tree so that nothing would remain on the Devorian side to mark the tree as the gateway to another world. They did not see a green tendril of mist curl up from the ground and wrap itself around the trunk.
