Marabel and the Book of Fate

by Tracy Barrett

  A key.

  Marabel yelped, and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Ellie’s eyes flashed a warning. She said, a shade too loudly, “Sorry, Princess; I didn’t mean to pull your hair. I’ll brush more carefully.”

  Catching on, Marabel said, “It’s all right, Ellie.”

  Ellie stepped closer and breathed in Marabel’s ear, “I took the key from my mother’s bureau.”

  “You did?” Marabel was astonished. Ellie was usually so obedient.

  Looking both proud and a little scared of what she had done, Ellie laid a finger on her lips and nodded.

  “So that’s why you weren’t afraid to be locked in,” Marabel whispered back. “You knew you could get out.”

  Her mind raced at the thought of freeing herself and going to her father to convince him to send troops to rescue Marco. But she knew it was hopeless. Never, ever would he go against the Book. That thought wouldn’t even occur to him, or to any Magikian.

  Except Marabel, it appeared, who was startled at the next thought that popped into her head.

  Why not rescue Marco herself?

  Ellie held up the key and looked at Marabel questioningly. “Go ahead,” Marabel mouthed.

  Ellie slid the key in the lock and turned it slowly. It protested with a squeak that made both girls wince.

  “Wait a second,” Marabel whispered. She took a bottle of perfumed oil from her dressing table and poured some into the lock. A lot dribbled out, but enough must have made it in; this time the key turned almost silently. Marabel eased the door open, took a cautious step, and peered down the hall. No guards. She went back into her chamber, leaving the door open a crack.

  “Better?” she asked Ellie.

  Ellie nodded.

  “Good,” Marabel said. “Because I need your help.”

  o!” Ellie said after Marabel explained her plan. “I won’t help you, because you’re not going.”

  “Fine.” Marabel yanked open a drawer and pulled out clothes, tossing them on the bed. “I’ll just get ready by myself, then.”

  “Be serious.” Ellie crossed her arms on her chest. “What can you do to help him? He’s the Chosen One—the Book says he has to save himself.”

  “But even if he’s the Chosen One, Aunt Mab’s wizard can still turn him into a frog.” Marabel didn’t pause in her preparations. “And while we’re sitting here waiting for Symposia to burn plants and jabber with the other priests, my aunt and my father could end up at war with each other. I want to save Marco, and I also need to save Magikos. It doesn’t look like anyone else is going to do it!”

  “If you leave, I’ll tell someone,” Ellie threatened.

  “Go right ahead.” Marabel wasn’t worried. Ellie never tattled; she was always Marabel’s ally. “This is what I have to do. My father’s not going to go—he made that clear enough. He’s never, ever questioned the Book. That’s something he’s proud of.”

  Marabel understood Ellie’s shock; for a thousand years, the Magikians had followed the Book without question. It was hard to imagine not doing what it said.

  “Something today made me think about that drought when we were little. Remember?” she asked.

  Ellie nodded. “My father was worried about getting enough grain to feed the horses.” Her father—dead two years now—had been the manager of the king’s stable. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

  “The Book never said there was going to be a drought—I guess because it wasn’t a big enough problem to be worthy of mention. But it would have turned into a big problem if my father hadn’t thought of a solution. A lot of people would have died. The Book didn’t have to grant him permission to give away the royal grain. He just did it because he’s the king and he has to do what’s right for the whole country.”

  Ellie didn’t answer.

  “And those centaurs,” Marabel added. “Remember? They could have caused a lot of trouble if they’d been allowed to run around much longer, but my father knew he could solve the problem by himself, since the Book didn’t mention it.”

  “What are you saying?” Ellie sounded wary, even while her words posed a challenge to Marabel.

  “My father’s threatening to start a war if Marco doesn’t come back. A war would definitely be in the Book, wouldn’t it? So if the Book doesn’t mention a war, that means it doesn’t happen. And it means that something else has to happen instead to prevent it.” She hoped Ellie could follow her; her own head was spinning and she wasn’t sure if she’d explained clearly what she was thinking.

  “So why doesn’t it mention Marco being taken?” Ellie asked. “That’s obviously something big, isn’t it, to have the Chosen One kidnapped, even if there isn’t a war? Shouldn’t the Book talk about it?”

  Marabel hesitated. This was a hard one. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe it’s because he’s going to escape and come home. Or maybe it’s because someone will rescue him right away.” Still, she knew the mere fact of the Chosen One being kidnapped was hugely important and should be mentioned in the Book. So why wasn’t it? She’d have to think about it, and maybe ask Lucius. “Symposia says the Book is hard to understand sometimes,” she said. “So maybe… maybe she’s wrong about Marco having to save himself. Maybe it doesn’t really say that.”

  Ellie wasn’t convinced. “Maybe there’s no war because your father’s messenger is going to go to the Barrens and convince your aunt to give Marco back.”

  Marabel shook her head. “I don’t believe that. Lucius says she’s strong-willed, and she went to a lot of risk and trouble to get him. I don’t believe she would just turn him loose because my father asked. And anyway, we can’t risk it. There’s only a thrennight until she turns Marco into a frog and then there’s sure to be a war!”

  “Let me get this straight,” Ellie said. “You think you’re actually doing what the Book says, and not going against it, by running away to rescue Marco?”

  Was that what Marabel was saying? Did she understand the Book better than Symposia?

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m going anyway. I can’t just sit here.” She went back to her packing. If she was going to do this, she had no time to waste.

  Ellie watched in silence. Then she said, “We’re going to need candles and some extra shoes.”

  Marabel was about to reach into her candle box when she realized what Ellie had said. “‘We’?”

  “My mother told me to—”

  “Always stay by my side,” Marabel finished for her.

  “Besides,” Ellie said resolutely, “Magikos is my home, too, and Marco is the twin brother of my best friend and my prince. If you’re going, I’m going with you.”

  “Are you sure, Ellie?” Marabel asked. “It might be dangerous. It will be dangerous. We’ll have to go through the Impassable Forest and into Mab’s realm.”

  Ellie pretended not to hear the question, but her voice trembled a little as she said, “You’d better put on that old fencing garb. The new one is too special—someone might recognize you. I’ll gather what we’ll need. Do you have any money?”

  Marabel shook her head. She had spent the little she had on a birthday gift for Marco. It was a dagger with a stone in the hilt that was supposed to keep the blade from getting dull. It must be on the table with all the other presents, still wrapped and waiting for him.

  Then a greater challenge occurred to her. “Wait. How will we get past my father’s troops? They must be guarding the walls. They’d be sure to see us.”

  “Leave that to me,” Ellie said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ellie drew close and whispered, “There’s an escape tunnel that leads out of the palace grounds.”

  “There’s a what? I don’t believe you!”

  Ellie nodded vigorously. “Its entrance is in the stable—my father showed it to me once. He said it was a secret passed down from parent to child for generations. He made me promise to keep it from everyone, even my mother,
unless some terrible danger came to the royal family. I’d forgotten about it, but last night I had a dream that reminded me.” Her forehead wrinkled. “It seemed strange, though—just when we need a secret way out, I dream about it.”

  It was strange, and it also seemed too good to be true. The dream couldn’t be just chance. The thought gave Marabel new confidence. This rescue mission was meant to be!

  While Marabel put on the red garb, Ellie spread two blankets on her bed and piled a change of clothes, a flask of water, a spare pair of boots, and a handful of candles onto each of them. She tied the corners together, making two neat packs. Marabel stuck the wooden sword into the belt around her tunic. It made her feel better.

  Marabel itched to get started on their journey, but Ellie convinced her to wait. She pointed out that the more people there were around, the greater the risk they would run into someone. So Marabel watched impatiently out the window as exhausted guests climbed into their waiting coaches and rattled away.

  Finally, no more coaches stood in the drive, and everything was silent indoors and out.

  “Ready?” Marabel asked.

  Ellie nodded. Each girl slung a pack over her shoulder, and they slipped out the door. Marabel closed and locked it, and slid the key into her pouch. She whispered, “If the door’s locked, they might not check inside for a while. That’ll give us some time.”

  They ran on tiptoe down the familiar corridor. Will I ever see it again? Marabel wondered. She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach. If only she could say good-bye to Malcolm and the little princesses! Would her father and stepmother worry about her? And would Lucius?

  The palace was almost deserted due to the late hour. Marabel and Ellie had barely started down the longest corridor when the clanging footsteps of armored guards rang out not far from them. Marabel yanked Ellie into a storeroom. They huddled together and hardly dared to breathe.

  “Why, there you are, dear!”

  Marabel whirled at the chirpy voice, sure they’d been caught. But it was only her old talking mirror.

  “You look a fright! Don’t think you’re going anywhere looking like that! Ellie, what are you thinking? Fix your mistress’s hair immediately, and wash her face and—”

  The footsteps drew nearer. The guards would hear that silly mirror! In desperation, Marabel tossed a cloak over it. The voice continued, “—try to bring some color into her cheeks.…” and then faded into blessed silence as the footfalls and voices progressed down the corridor. As soon as it seemed safe, Marabel and Ellie continued on their way.

  Finally, they reached the empty kitchen. Coals still glowed in the hearth. The air was hot and stuffy with the smell of grease and onions and everything else that had gone into the dishes at the feast. Every surface was littered with vegetable peelings and bones and piles of flour. They hurriedly filled two sacks with as much food as they could carry.

  Marabel opened the back door of the kitchen. The cool night air felt good on her hot cheeks. She located her favorite constellation—the Twins, who wheeled hand in hand across the sky in late summer and fall—and took a deep breath. “Come on,” she said to Ellie.

  As she hurried toward the stable, soft footfalls followed her. “Is the way out through the stable or behind it or what?” No reply. She turned around to see why Ellie hadn’t answered.

  But the footsteps weren’t Ellie’s. Instead, a large, oddly shaped form was silhouetted against the starry sky. As Marabel watched, stunned, it moved closer and reached out a misshapen limb in her direction. She tried to scream, but all that came from her throat was a dry croak.

  Then the shape made a soft whickering sound, and Marabel realized what she was seeing. It was the long neck and head of her father’s unicorn.

  “Floriano,” she exhaled with relief, and he stepped out of the shadows.

  In the darkness, the unicorn looked gray. But he was really the royal colors of Magikos. In sunlight, Floriano shone pale blue, with a horn and hooves of such a brilliant gold that their glow made you squint. His white tail and mane were always twined with bright ribbons that streamed behind him when he cantered. But most amazingly, the black pupils of his golden eyes were perfect five-pointed stars.

  Like all unicorns, Floriano loved girls, and he always followed Marabel around. It was sweet but it sometimes irritated her, especially since, whenever she sat down in his presence, he tried to lay his head on her lap. His horn had whacked her in the ribs more than once.

  “What are you doing out of your stall?” Marabel asked, petting the unicorn’s soft neck. He tossed his head and nosed her pack. “Sorry, no apple for you today. Go back to your stall and go to sleep. Someone will feed you in the morning.”

  Floriano snorted.

  “Come on, Marabel,” Ellie said, finally rounding the corner. “Let’s go. Someone could see us.”

  Keeping close to the walls, they crept across the stable yard. Floriano followed them, as Marabel knew he would.

  In the cozy stable, full of the warm smell of well-groomed horses and oats and leather, Marabel lit a candle. A snore came from the stall of her old black-and-white pony, and she heard soft breathing from the other animals. She tried to lead Floriano into his stall, but he stopped and tossed his head again.

  “What’s the matter?” Marabel stroked the unicorn’s flank.

  “Hurry,” Ellie said. She cast an anxious glance back at the open stable door.

  “I’m trying!” Marabel stepped into the unicorn’s stall and shook the feed bucket. “Come on, Floriano. I don’t have all night.” He didn’t move. “How did you get out anyway?”

  “Leave him,” Ellie said, impatient. “He’ll be fine. It’s going to start getting light soon.” As if to confirm her words, the clock in the palace tower struck four.

  “I can’t,” Marabel said. “If Floriano were to run away—” The unicorn stamped his hoof, narrowly missing Marabel’s foot. “What is it? If only you could talk!”

  “What makes you think I can’t? You humans think you’re the only ones with any brains!”

  When Marabel realized that the unicorn had spoken, she asked in bewilderment, “You can talk?”

  Ellie choked out, “It’s some kind of enchantment! Marabel, we have to—”

  “It’s no enchantment,” the unicorn said. “Well, in a way it is. Unicorns are magical beings, you know. And we can all talk.”

  “You can?” Marabel asked. “Why didn’t you ever talk before?”

  He blinked, his long lashes sweeping down on his cheek. “Maybe I didn’t have anything to say.”

  “And what you had to say now is that you can talk?”

  “Don’t be stupid.” His discourteous words sounded even ruder coming from that beautiful face. “I have lot of things to say, actually. Like, what’s with that groom with the cold hands? And what about the quality of the oats in here?”

  At any other time, Marabel would have loved to talk with a unicorn. She was sure he would have much more interesting things to say than her old goldfish. But she was in a hurry. “I’ll have someone check it out,” she said. “Back in your stall, Floriano.”

  He tossed his head in a clear refusal. “No way. You’re going somewhere exciting. I can tell. And I want to go with you.” He reminded Marabel of her little sister Maisie, who was always trying to tag along after the twins.

  “I mean it.” Marabel tried to sound like her father. “Back in your stall now.” Floriano cast her a bitter look but did as she said, dragging his golden hooves.

  Marabel latched the stall securely, and the girls hurried into the tack room at the back of the stable. Ellie opened the door of a tall cabinet and pulled out scraps of leather, tools, buckles, balls of twine, and jars of leather polish. Marabel joined in, and together they heaped everything onto the floor.

  “What are we doing?” Marabel asked.

  “You’ll see,” Ellie said. She pulled out the now-empty shelves.

  The inside of the cabinet looked how Marabel had expected—pla
in dark wood, with lighter horizontal stripes where the shelves used to be. Then she spotted a small, perfectly round hole at about waist height. Ellie poked her finger into it and tugged, and the entire piece of wood toppled out.

  In the back of the cabinet, a wide hole now opened into a stone tunnel.

  Marabel picked up her candle and peered in. Darkness swallowed the little light, and she could barely make out the long tunnel. It was tall and wide enough to allow a horse through. The tunnel sloped downward—to what, she couldn’t see. Ancient black smudges on the walls and ceiling showed where torches had once burned. Faint marks of hooves in the deep dust told her that at some time, long ago, someone had ridden out this way.

  “Where does it go?” Marabel asked, steeling her nerves.

  “There’s an opening at the edge of the royal woods, on the border of the Impassable Forest, I think.”

  The forest of Magikos ended at the Wall built by the great wizard Callum. On the other side of this ancient structure, the enchanted Impassable Forest of the Desolate Barrens began. Marabel hesitated, remembering tales of the Evils that lurked in Mab’s dark woods. If a war started and Mab and her army could get through the Wall, Magikos would become full of Evils.

  Then she thought of Marco, and of his limp arm as Mab and Veneficus carried him from the banquet hall, and her resolve firmed up. “It’s now or never.” Marabel stepped into the cabinet, but Ellie didn’t move. “Come on, Ellie.” Still nothing. She turned and saw Ellie hanging back.

  “The tunnel’s smaller than I remembered it,” she said.

  “Well, you were smaller when your father showed it to you, so it probably looked big to you then. But it’s not really that small—see?” Marabel held the candle high to show that the ceiling was well above them. This was a mistake, because the light revealed a swarm of crickets and other small creatures that she didn’t want to look at long enough to identify. She hastily lowered her arm.

  Of course, even without the spiders and crickets, the tunnel must be frightening for someone with Ellie’s fear of closed-off spaces. “You don’t have to come if you’re scared,” Marabel said gently.