“As you well know,” he said, “I’ve been longing to see your land. I heard you tell my mother that you had found an opening in the Wall. I would ask that you take me with you to that door so that I, too, may see what lies beyond it.”
“Are you sure?” Marabel asked. “Magikos is different from the Barrens. There aren’t any ogres there, except in—” She stopped herself before saying, “except in zoos,” and went on, “and people might be afraid of you.” He looked so hurt that she added quickly, “Oh, we know you’re not dangerous. It’s just other people.”
“If he’s with us, it should be fine,” Marco said. Marabel wasn’t sure, but Cornelius looked so eager that she relented and agreed.
So after a quick farewell and thanks to Hotshot, who barely looked up from ordering and reordering his treasure, they took to the road.
“Did I really frighten you back there?” Marabel said as they made their way through the trees.
“Nigh unto death,” Cornelius said solemnly.
Despite everything that was going on, Marabel chuckled to herself. Served him right, after the way he had terrified her at their first meeting!
They traveled as fast as they could manage. Marabel asked the ogre to keep an eye out for a gigantic door standing by itself among the trees. Cornelius scouted the territory but none of them were sure exactly where it was. Marco had been only semiconscious when Mab and Veneficus had taken him through the door, and Marabel and Ellie and Floriano had been lost when they’d stumbled on it before. She was afraid they’d have to search for it for a long time, and the thought of Mab’s army approaching made her frantic with worry.
But they didn’t have to search long. They heard a bang and then an ogreish howl from up ahead. Cornelius returned, rubbing a lump on his forehead. “There came a wall where no wall was before!” he said ruefully.
“That’s it!” Floriano said. “Lead us to it!”
“I only hope you can unlock it from this side,” Ellie said.
But when they found the door, to their surprise and relief, it gaped wide open. “Didn’t you close it behind us after we came through?” Marabel asked Ellie.
“I thought you did,” she answered.
“Who cares?” Marco broke in. “It’s open—let’s go!”
When they finally neared the palace, Marabel sent Cornelius and Floriano ahead. The ogre looked grave when they returned. “The royal troops surround the palace and are keeping a lookout,” he said.
Marabel didn’t want to be seized by her father’s soldiers and be dragged into the palace like a naughty runaway child. That would hardly be a fitting end to her great adventure! She wanted to appear before him in triumph, with Marco.
“We know another way in,” she told Cornelius. “Follow me.”
They passed the tree where they had met the man-wolf. Marabel’s pack lay on the trail, ripped savagely open. Ellie turned pale at the sight, and Marabel knew that she was imagining what the Evil would have done to them if he’d caught them. She took Ellie’s hand.
The last stretch of open land before they got to the tunnel opening was torture, but they managed to make it across unseen.
Marabel worried that Cornelius wouldn’t fit, but he was surprisingly flexible, and he didn’t seem to mind walking through the tunnel in a squatting position. “I’m accustomed to it,” he said cheerily. “When one finds oneself the lone ogre in a village of humans, one learns to adapt.”
They had a moment of anxiety when they found the opening boarded up, but Cornelius shattered the boards with a few blows of his huge fists, and then he helped them clamber out. Marabel was afraid that someone would hear them, but fortunately, they emerged unobserved.
Almost unobserved, that is. As they passed the ancient gray donkey in the corner stall, he commenced braying and kicking the walls. He made such a ruckus that they were afraid someone would come to investigate. Floriano let himself into the stall and the two spoke in hushed whinnies and nickers. They left him with his friend in the stable.
“I guess it’s nice to have someone be glad to see you,” Floriano said as he waved them good-bye. If that was how the “stupid donkey” welcomed Floriano, Marabel couldn’t wait to see the welcome that she and Marco would receive!
The palace was almost empty. Most of the guards, it appeared, were outside, patrolling the grounds and the battlements. At this late hour, Marabel’s little brothers and sisters would be in bed, so Ellie slipped off to find her mother, and Marco and Marabel made their way to the royal council room.
Marco and Marabel saw their parents sitting on their thrones, wearing their slippers and bathrobes. The most important courtiers and all the priests and priestesses were also there, talking and arguing furiously. King Matthew looked bewildered. The twins stood uncertainly in the doorway, leaving Cornelius to wait discreetly in the hallway.
The queen glanced up. Her annoyed expression at the interruption instantly changed to uncertainty, then wonder, and then joy, and she screamed.
Guards came running but fell back in surprise when they saw Marco. The king and queen leaped up and hugged him, asking dozens of questions. Marabel tried to speak, but they shushed her and turned to Marco with more questions. Then more guards appeared, dragging an unresisting Cornelius with them.
“Don’t hurt him!” Marabel cried. “He’s our friend!”
“Your friend?” The king’s eyes popped. “What nonsense! Why, can’t you see he’s an Evil?”
“He really is our friend, Father,” Marco said earnestly. “I couldn’t have gotten home without him.” That was perhaps an exaggeration, but it did the trick. Anyone who helped bring the Chosen One home had to be honored, or at least not harmed. The king ordered the guards to release Cornelius but to stand by “in case he goes wild,” the king said. “Perhaps if we put him in a cage?”
Marco and Marabel objected so strongly to this that the king agreed that Cornelius could have a guest bedroom, as long as guards stood outside his door.
The guards led him out, and Marabel ran after them. Cornelius shot her a look of misery.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll get you out of there. I promise.”
Marco called her, and she had to go back to where their parents were waiting to hear the story of the return of the Chosen One.
Maggie gave each of them a hug. “Thank the Book you survived,” she said with a quaver in her voice. “But what on earth are you wearing?”
Marabel looked down at herself. She had forgotten her new clothes. Now she suddenly felt half-naked, being surrounded by people in flowing garbs and hooded tunics. But what did it matter what she was wearing? Wasn’t the important thing the fact that she had brought Marco home?
“So tell us what happened on your birthday, dear,” Queen Maggie urged before Marabel had time to answer. “Where did that evil woman take you?”
Marco, it turned out, had been vaguely aware of his surroundings but unable to move. After they were far enough away from the palace, their aunt had handed him over to her goblin troops. Two dwarves had trussed him up and tossed him into a wagon, and as soon as they arrived at Mab’s castle, he was taken to the dungeon, where Marabel had found him.
“Did they beat you in that dungeon, darling?” a worried Queen Maggie asked. “Starve you? Try to make you give up state secrets?”
“He doesn’t know any state secrets,” King Matthew pointed out.
“Aunt Mab was very nice,” Marco said. “She told the guards to treat me like an honored guest, and they did. She let me order whatever I wanted to eat, there were lots of books to read and other things to do there. It was fine, wasn’t it, Marabel?”
“Yes, it was very—” Marabel began.
The king looked at her and blinked. “Are you still here, child?”
Why had he thought she wasn’t there anymore? She wasn’t invisible; this was how they had always treated her. Before, she had been resigned to nobody listening to her. But now she realized that she didn’t want to stand
for it.
“How did you make your escape?” Symposia asked Marco. “The Book says that when the Chosen One recognized himself, he would prevail. How did that happen? Did you see yourself in a mirror? Come to some deep understanding of your nature?”
“I didn’t prevail,” he said. “Marabel rescued me.”
Everyone turned to Marabel in surprise. Marabel smiled at Marco. At last they’d ask her how she’d done it! She couldn’t wait to tell them.
But instead, the queen said, sniffling, “Isn’t that just like our darling Marco? He’s worried that his sister isn’t getting any attention, so he’s trying to give her credit for the rescue!”
Everyone murmured in admiration of the Chosen One’s generosity of spirit. Everyone except Marabel. She felt like a balloon that someone had pricked with a pin.
“No, really,” Marco protested. “She did!”
Marabel added, “I wasn’t the only one. Floriano and Ellie did a lot of things on the way there, and then we all worked together to defeat a huge dragon that guarded the dungeon—”
There were horrified gasps at the mention of the most dreaded of all Evils.
“You were guarded by a dragon?” King Matthew asked. “My poor boy! It was bad enough having that nasty one here on your birthday. How awful that you had one outside your door for so long!”
“And what do you mean, the unicorn worked with you?” the queen asked. “My dear child, you really must try to make sense!”
“Floriano can talk,” Marabel put in. “He—”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“Maybe the girl should be sent to bed,” Symposia told King Matthew.
“No!” Marco said. “She’s right. Floriano can talk, and Marabel did save me. When we were caught by goblin soldiers, she had a swordfight with their leader and she beat him! And he gave her a—”
One of the priestesses burst into a cackling laugh. “A fight? With her sword? What sword? The one she wears at her waist?”
“Yes. Marabel, show them.” Marco turned to her eagerly.
Marabel pulled out the sword and swung it in the air, expecting the blade to turn to steel and reflect the bright candlelight.
No change. No reflection. The sword stayed the same: an old wooden practice sword.
As the whole room, with the lone exception of Marco, erupted into laughter, Marabel turned and ran. She didn’t know where she was going—she just ran.
arabel stood alone at the base of the sentry tower and watched the fireworks without interest. Down in the courtyard, musicians played and people danced while the bright lights exploded above their heads. Everyone was celebrating the return of the Chosen One. Marco stood between the king and queen in the balcony far below her. Every time he waved or even looked at the people, everyone cheered.
A familiar step sounded on the stone pavement. Marabel didn’t turn around. Lucius took his place next to her and leaned his elbows on the wall. He stood and watched with her, occasionally grunting when a firework was especially beautiful.
“They don’t believe me,” she said suddenly. She hadn’t meant to speak, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. “They don’t believe I rescued him. Even when Marco tells them I did, they just say isn’t he nice for trying to make me feel good. They think somehow he rescued me.” She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears.
“I suppose you’re going to say that it doesn’t matter,” she went on after swallowing a sob. “You’re going to say that as long as I know what I did, and Marco knows, it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks. But it does matter. It does.”
“Of course it matters. Only a fool would say it didn’t. We all want the people we love to be proud of us. And we all want to be recognized for who we are,” Lucius said. His warm hand on hers made her feel a little less alone.
She nodded, looking down at the crowd.
He continued, “Of course, it is true that the most important thing is that you know what you did and who you are. But I would never say that it’s the only thing.”
Marabel finally managed to look at Lucius without crying. Something about him sounded different. He looked different, too. He was the same old Lucius, but somehow more than Lucius.
“What do you mean, the important thing is for me to know who I am? I’ve always known who I am. I’m Princess Marabel of Magikos, sister of the Chosen One.”
“True. But that’s not all you are. You’re also the leader of a team of rescuers, who found her way through a dense forest and overcame many perils and difficulties to save someone she loved.” He chuckled. “I thought you were going to give up many times, starting that first night. You would have slept all day in that cave if it had been up to you. And I thought you’d never find the door in the Wall.”
“I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “Even though it was right in front of my—wait, what? How do you know about me oversleeping in the cave? And about finding the door?”
He didn’t answer, only looked at her, a small smile barely shaping his lips. Realization hit Marabel like a thunderbolt. Could he really be saying what she thought he was saying?
She was so stunned, she had to sit down. “Wait,” she said again. “The voice that woke me up in the cave—was that you?”
He chuckled. “I had to work hard that night!” he said. “I had to convince Ellie to go on, too. She was ready to give up and go home, remember? She needed a reminder of what was at stake. So I whispered to her, to remind her of her duty. It didn’t take much—she’s a patriotic Magikian.”
Marabel remembered the morning when Ellie had suddenly changed her mind and decided to continue the adventure, after all. So that was Lucius, not a dream!
“Were you the fairy who told me to use my eyes when I was looking for the Wall?” Marabel asked. “And the squirrel that showed me the signpost to the troll bridge?”
“That squirrel was just a squirrel. But yes, I was the fairy. I was with you on the whole trip. Even before. I was the one who reminded Ellie about the secret tunnel in the stable. She was so young the day her father showed it to her that I was afraid she’d forgotten, so the night before the banquet I arranged with the dream faeries to have her remember that day while she slept.”
“You arranged with the… there are dream faeries?”
“Indeed,” Lucius replied. “I knew that Mab was concerned about the state of the magical creatures in her kingdom, and I was worried that she would attack Magikos during the banquet. She always did love drama, even as a girl.”
“What about those times when Ellie kept me going when I wanted to give up?” Marabel asked. “Like when Floriano was lost, and I said we should go home and she talked me out of it? Did you or the dream faeries have something to do with that?”
Lucius chuckled again. “No, I didn’t have to prompt her those times. That was all Ellie. She’s a fighter, that one!”
Suddenly, Marabel felt awkward in front of one of her dearest and oldest friends. “Are you a wizard, Lucius?”
Still with his eyes fixed on the sky, he said, “Something like that. Names don’t matter.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me before?” she asked.
“I couldn’t tell anyone, Princess,” he said. “People would always be bothering me for love potions and charms and other silly things. I had—have—a job to do, and I couldn’t waste time with little tricks. Besides, your father isn’t exactly comfortable with magic.”
Now Marabel had to rearrange all her memories of Lucius. Whenever she hurt herself, the bruise or the cut healed quickly after he touched it. Whenever she was sad, his hand on her shoulder made her feel better. Wizards all had their specialties; it appeared that Lucius specialized in sword fighting and healing. The two skills went well together, given how easy it was to get hurt when fighting.
Oh, and he must be good at shape-shifting, if he could turn his lanky self into that tiny fairy.
“So why didn’t you tell me what to do on my quest? Why did you tell me to use my e
yes, instead of pointing out the door? You didn’t have to tell me it was you helping me, and it would have made the trip a lot easier!”
“Would you have learned how brave and clever you are if I had told you what you needed to do?” He shook his head and patted her hand. “No, you had to figure it out for yourself.” He nodded at the sword still hanging in her belt. “And when you did, the ancient magic worked.”
“What do you mean?” He was making her nervous. It was unlike Lucius to be this serious for so long.
“That sword has been waiting for you for many years,” he said softly. “It needed to be wielded by the right person in order to recognize itself, too. That’s why it turned into its true self, a blade of steel forged by dwarves many, many centuries ago, only once you realized how much you had accomplished with your wit and your courage. Marco is a good boy, but he wasn’t the right person for the sword. The sword knew that. Neither were your father or his sister, nor their father, nor yet his father.”
“Wait a second,” Marabel interrupted, her heart racing. “How do you know about the sword and how it acted with my father and his father and his father?”
“And his father and his father, and many more. I know because I gave them the sword to practice with, and it never showed itself to be anything but wood.”
“You gave the sword to my great-great-whatever-grandfather? How old are you, Lucius?”
He looked up at the fireworks, now in their final, extravagant burst. “I’ve lost track. I studied with your ancestor King Manfred’s wizard, the great Callum, if you want to do the math. Callum was an old man himself then, of course.”
Marabel’s father always talked about “old Lucius,” as though the fencing master had already been ancient when the king was a boy. He must be hundreds of years old. Maybe he was under an enchantment that kept people from realizing how old he was. Maybe not. Her father and stepmother didn’t really pay attention to the people who worked for them, or wonder about their lives. This was probably the reason why nobody realized how long Lucius had been around.
Marabel looked down at the battered, scarred wooden sword in her belt and sighed. “I guess your sword is broken. It changed long enough for me to save the true Chosen One, and then both of us went back to being our ordinary selves. And I’m not brave, like you said I am. I was scared most of the time.”
Marabel and the Book of Fate Page 16
