The Night of the Solstice

by L. J. Smith

  Charles, thirsty after all the running, hesitated. But as he reached for the cup, several things flashed through his mind at once, forming a collage rather than a series of impressions. The vixen saying, “Luring young men into the Wildworld and then dumping them back twenty years later.” The serpent: “You would be in peril of your life.” The legends of Rip Van Winkle and Tam Lin. And the wild, merry voices of the wood spirits: “Give him a draught and don’t trouble his sleeping!”

  His hand fell back. “No thanks.”

  Elwyn laughed and tilted the cup to her own lips. The eyes which looked at him over the rim were as blue as cornflowers, the same color as the jewels in the wide belt over her kirtle. She wore a small cap covered with pearls and sapphires, and beneath it the diaphanous veil of her hair was like moonlight.

  “Well, now!” she said when she lowered the cup. “Who are you, boy, and what do you want in Elwyn’s Wood?”

  “I’m Charles, and I—listen, I’ll tell you what I’m doing here! I’m here because of you!”

  “Yes?” she said. Her lashes were as silver as her hair.

  “Because of what you—listen. Do you know where Morgana is now?”

  Elwyn thought. “No. I saw her some time ago, but … Do you like music? I do.” She nodded to a wild girl, who began to play a flute, all in a minor key.

  “Do you realize what Cadal Forge is planning?”

  Elwyn pursed her bright lips. “Cadal Forge spoke rudely to me once,” she mused.

  Charles stared. “Did he? Did he really?”

  “Perhaps I just dreamed it. Do you dream?”

  “Have you understood a single thing I’ve said?”

  “Of course I’ve understood a single thing you’ve said. You’re a Charles and you’re not thirsty. But perhaps you’d care for something to eat?”

  Charles sat down and put his head in his hands. He was stranded in an alien world with a mentally incompetent midget—

  “How old are you, anyway?” he mumbled.

  “Old? Oh, I’m old. I’ve no idea, really. Why, do you think it matters?”

  —with a mentally incompetent midget who didn’t even know her own age. And no way of leaving. And who knew what might be happening to Alys and the others.

  “You’re not ill, are you? If you like I can try to figure it out.”

  Charles raised his head listlessly. “Figure what out?”

  “How old I am. It may take me awhile… .”

  Charles sat up straight. Elwyn Silverhair was looking at him anxiously, hands clasped under her chin. The worst thing was that he was beginning to like her. Sure, she was out to lunch as far as reality was concerned, but there was no malice in her and she was prettier than Bliss Bascomb.

  “That’s all right,” he said. Faintly ashamed of his bad temper, he leaned over to scoop some water out of the spring.

  “Don’t,” said Elwyn quickly, as he bent his head to drink. “Unless you want to be a fish, of course.”

  The water trickled through his fingers as he stared at her.

  The mist was thinning, and at the edge of the circle Charles spotted a newcomer to Elwyn’s group, a young boy wearing breeches like Elwyn’s maidens, but no shirt. He looked slightly less wild than the girls. As Elwyn spread a cloth and put out bread and cheese, Charles casually edged over to the youth and spoke out of the side of his mouth.

  “Hey, look, do you happen to know the way out of these woods?” he murmured. “’Cause, you know, this place is pretty weird, and I’ve gotta go.”

  The silence that followed was so long that at last Charles turned to look at his companion. For a moment longer the boy gazed at him out of cinnamon-colored eyes without speaking. Then, with no warning at all, he threw back his head and howled like a wolf.

  In three long bounds Charles was back in the circle beside Elwyn.

  “Honey, or butter?” said she.

  He sat down and put his head in his hands.

  “Look,” he said, some minutes later. “I’m going to try to explain. There were some people with me, and we got separated. Maybe your friends here saw them?”

  “Deela?” said Elwyn.

  A copper-haired girl stepped forward. “Some time ago we saw three others. They were small but clumsy, mistress. Not unlike him, but less brightly colored.”

  “Right,” said Charles grimly, and rounded on Elwyn. “Those small clumsy things were my sisters. And now I’m lost, and they’re lost, and we’re not even lost together. And the whole reason we’re in this world at all is you. So”—belligerently—“what are you going to do about it?”

  Elwyn offered him a piece of bread, saw by his expression that this was not sufficient, and tried again. “We could sing and dance in the moonlight,” she suggested.

  “No,” said Charles.

  “We could listen to sweet music and count stars… .”

  “No.”

  She bit her lip, wrung her hands, and made a tremendous effort. “I—I could send Deela to fetch your sisters here?”

  “Please,” said Charles. “Please do that and then show all of us the way out of these woods.”

  And so, with long shivering cries and bursts of melodious laughter, Deela and several of the other elementals departed. Charles flung himself to the ground and concentrated on not looking at his watch.

  Time crawled by, and presently even strange flute music seemed lulling. He fell asleep.

  He was awakened by a hunting horn, and as he sat up Deela loped smoothly into the circle. Behind her the wild girls herded a single weary figure.

  “Alys!” cried Charles. “What did you do with the others?” he said to the girls.

  Alys was pale, but quite calm and resolute. Squatting on her heels in the center of the clearing, she even managed to make herself understood by Elwyn.

  “We’re going to have to think of some way to scout around,” she said. “I came with the wild girls because I suspected that they might have taken Charles, but I was hoping it wasn’t just him. Because, you see, I’ve just been with the Eldreth, and they say Janie and Claudia aren’t on the marsh. And now the Dirdreth tell me they aren’t anywhere in the Wood. So the question is—where in the Wildworld are they?”

  Chapter 15

  CASTLE

  Janie and Claudia had watched Alys plunge into the mist. It had closed behind her before Janie got up the breath to shout.

  “Wait a minute! You’re coming back to find us—how? Alys!” As her cries were met by silence Janie turned around. “Oh, this is just terrific,” she muttered, striking her palm rhythmically with a clenched fist. “This just absolutely takes the cake. What’s wrong with her anyway?” she added with a change in tone. “Alys should know better.”

  “I think,” sniffled Claudia from her forlorn seat on the ground, “that Aric scared her. She said when he got us that she wasn’t—wasn’t compliment to make decisions anymore.”

  “Com-pe-tent,” said Janie. There was a terrible sinking feeling inside her. But why? She had always resented her older sister’s take-charge manner; Janie didn’t enjoy being bossed. Only now …

  If Alys goes down, she thought with sudden conviction, we are all lost.

  Claudia sniffled again, and Janie looked at her with new eyes. She had never had much to do with Claudia before this sorcery business started, and Claudia, for her part, always went running to Alys or Charles when she had a problem. Now Charles had disappeared and Alys had gone amok and there was no one left but Janie.

  “All right,” she said, sitting down near Claudia and trying to sound cheerful—or at least competent. “We’ll wait here awhile. You lie down and rest.”

  Obediently, Claudia curled on her side and pretended to sleep. Janie, looking at her pinched, quivering lips and her screwed-up eyelids, would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so much like crying. Suddenly she wished very much that she had been the kind of sister Claudia would come running to.

  “Janie?”

  “Hmmm?” She lifted her chin
off her drawn-up knees.

  “Could—could we hold hands?”

  Janie’s mouth opened, and then she silently took Claudia’s square, cold little hand in hers. Just for the moment she could think of nothing to say.

  They were both chilled through by the time the mist cleared enough for them to see the stars. This was what Janie had been waiting for, and she tugged at the drowsing Claudia’s hand.

  “Come on,” she said. “We’re going to the castle. It’s the one place we all know, and if the others have any sense they’ll head for it too.”

  “But how?” Claudia rubbed her eyes. “How can we—”

  “We go west. You know how to find west?”

  Claudia looked at her hands. One was right and the other was left, and west had something to do with it… .

  “Never mind. I’ll show you how to find the North Star as we walk. After that, west is easy.”

  It took a long time, walking back, but as they got farther from the marsh the mist disappeared and they saw the moonlight shining on the high hill of Fell Andred. The moon was sinking before them as they climbed the hill.

  “Keep very quiet,” whispered Janie, helping Claudia over the ruins of the outer courtyard wall.

  “They’ll still be looking for us.” The castle, which offered their only safety, was also their greatest danger.

  “I’m thirsty,” Claudia whispered back.

  Janie thought. They were as likely to fall into the castle well as to get water out of it. But she had seen a fountain in the gardens behind the conservatory.

  Noiselessly, they made their way through the tangled greenery (for the gardens also had run wild) to the fountain. Though the stone basin was cracked and green with age, a trickle of water still seeped through the moss at the top.

  “Now I’m hungry,” whispered Claudia, when they had both had a cool, slightly scummy drink.

  “The kitchen garden,” said Janie curtly, “is on the other side of the castle. But maybe there’s something here.”

  Claudia looked doubtful. But they were hungry enough to try foraging on the weed-choked, chilly winter ground. And in their hunger and frustration they forgot to watch the castle.

  Which explains why it was such a terrible shock when Janie looked up and saw the sorcerer.

  It was Aric, and he had his staff. Recognition, anger, and a hideous sort of joy chased one another across his face. He started toward them.

  “Run!” screamed Janie. But Claudia stood paralyzed like a rabbit transfixed by a headlight.

  Janie had no poker now. Everything inside her wanted to run and keep running. Then her hands balled into fists and her teeth clenched and she was running, but running toward Aric instead of away from him. There was a rock in her path. It felt good in her hand, rough and solid. As Aric reached Claudia, Janie drew back her arm the way Alys had taught her, and threw, and the rock hit Aric in the stomach.

  The sorcerer did not even break stride, but he forgot about Claudia and veered. He remembered Janie. His lips drew back from his teeth. In the heat of his anger he raised his staff as if to club her down rather than ensorcel her.

  Suddenly a bolt of silver light hit him from behind, forming a nimbus about him and shimmering hazily in the air as he pitched forward onto his face.

  Janie goggled.

  Near the ruined grotto wall stood a woman holding a staff which glinted frostily in the moonlight. When Aric did not move, she lowered it and walked unhurriedly up to them.

  “You do not look particularly dangerous,” she commented, studying them each in turn. “What have you done to earn the wrath of this foolish man?”

  “I—we—” This woman was Somebody, you could tell that at a glance. She was as tall as Cadal Forge, with an air that was at once imperial and gracious. Her gown was midnight blue worked with silver, and her braided hair, bound with a silver circlet, was dark red. Rings set with blue and white gems glinted on her fingers.

  “Come, do I look so fearsome as all that?” The woman smiled as she raised the cowering Claudia. “If you are hungry you shall be fed,” she added, with a penetrating glance at the tuber that hung from Claudia’s hand.

  Janie hesitated.

  “Are you—a sorceress?”

  The woman inclined her head.

  “Are you—are you with Cadal Forge?”

  The woman’s expression changed; her cheeks darkened with blood, and she seemed about to make an angry retort. Then, with a visible effort, she composed herself.

  “Do not utter that name in my presence again,” she said, very quietly. “No, I will not hurt you—you are children and know nothing of what he has done. But do not speak his name.”

  “But we do know what he’s done,” said Claudia eagerly, forgetting to be frightened. “That’s why we’re here.”

  A puzzled frown creased the woman’s brow.

  “I can explain,” said Janie, coming to a sudden decision. “But to do that I’ll have to mention C—I mean, that name you told us not to utter. Him.” She jerked a thumb at the castle.

  “This interests me mightily,” breathed the woman, looking at Janie with narrowed eyes. “Come, let us sit here by the fountain. You have my leave to speak.”

  “But what about Aric? Will he wake up?”

  “In three days’ time.” With a courtly gesture the woman ushered them to the fountain, out of sight of the house, and they sat down.

  “It’s like this,” said Janie, and, carefully and precisely, she told of how the vixen had summoned them and how they had made the amulet and tried to find Morgana. She told of Cadal Forge’s Society, and his plans for the Stillworld.

  The woman’s reaction was unexpected. As the story went on she began to smile as if amused, and when Janie finished by explaining how Aric had chased them out of the castle she threw back her head and laughed.

  “And to think he was once undersecretary to the Council,” she said, wiping her eyes. “But you children have been brave and resourceful indeed. You should be proud.”

  “But we haven’t done anything,” said Janie. She had come to her purpose: This woman would make a powerful ally. “If you could find some way to get word of this to the Council—”

  “We will talk of that later,” said the woman, with a faint smile. “Meanwhile, I promised you something to break your fast. Name what it pleases you to eat and you shall have it.”

  “Uh—cornflakes?” hazarded Janie.

  “Cornflakes. I do not know this confection.”

  “It isn’t a—well, what would you suggest?”

  After some deliberation the woman scooped up a handful of water; as the droplets fell, she made passes over them with her staff. And so, out of air and water, she created a meal for them, and if it was not exactly the sort of meal they were used to eating, it had at least the attraction of novelty.

  There was pigeon pie, minced beef in milk, new bread with butter and cheese, and a salad of wild herbs. These Janie and Claudia ate. There was also venison paste, salted herring, and lampreys in gelatin. These they declined. Dessert consisted of figs and raisins.

  “And now,” said the woman when they had eaten all they could, “to locate this intrepid sister and brother of yours before moonset.”

  “Can you find them? How?”

  The woman silenced Janie with a gesture. Murmuring words of enchantment, she touched the head of her staff to the water in the fountain, and before Janie’s and Claudia’s astonished eyes appeared an image, shimmering and faint but perfectly recognizable, of Alys and Charles. Alys and Charles were standing in a tangle of hydrangea bushes. The odd thing was, the hydrangea bushes looked just like the hydrangea bushes which grew behind the fountain… .

  Janie turned an instant before the bushes parted and Alys stepped out.

  She had her dagger drawn. Her face was tired and set, but her eyes never wavered from the sorceress. And, as the moon emerged from behind a cloud and shone down on her, it seemed that there was something else about her, something di
fferent, that brought Janie and Claudia to their feet. The sorceress stood also, swiftly, towering over them all. Her staff was in her hand, and leveled. Moonlight glanced off the gannelin dagger.

  Janie’s nerves thrilled with alarm.

  “No—wait—” she gasped, scarcely knowing which one she was speaking to.

  There was a further moment of tension, and then the spell broke. The sorceress lowered her staff. The moon went back behind a cloud. And Alys looked like Alys again.

  Janie’s immediate reaction, after relief, was familiar annoyance. Alys was her old self again, all right. Trust her to wave a dagger at the only friend they had in the Wildworld.

  “This woman,” she said aloud, “has just saved our lives.”

  Alys had the grace to look abashed, and when the sorceress invited her and Charles to sit and tell their stories, she obeyed.

  “I finally had the Dirdreth guide us toward the castle in hopes that you had decided to come here,” Alys concluded.

  Janie nodded. “We did,” she said, and explained what had happened to them.

  Alys listened intently, but still seemed slightly uncertain and off balance. When the story was finished, she took a deep breath and raised her blue-gray eyes to the sorceress.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I can see now you don’t mean us any harm. But I have to ask you—as Janie did—if you mean us any good. Will you take a message from us to the Weerul Council?”

  The woman smiled. “Now that we are all together I may speak freely. And the answer to your question is no.”

  There was a murmur of dismay.

  The woman shook her head indulgently at them. “Even if I would consider such a thing, there is no need,” she said gently. “You children had a mission to find and free the Mirror Mistress, did you not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then you need search no further. Your quest is done.” Standing, she smiled down on them. “I am Morgana.”

  * * *

  For the second time that night Janie was speechless. So were the others.

  “So you see,” the woman continued gently, “the only job of the Council now will be to punish Cadal Forge—if, indeed, there is anything of him left to punish when I am through.”