* * * * *
The next week was too busy for Liam to worry about goblins or dancing. He looked for the next project on the Doormaster’s list and sighed. It seemed endless. Not another set of rings. He tossed the list on the table and looked around the room. The baskets for Farmer Tomkin's wife caught his eye. He had linked them a week ago. A trip to the farm would get him out of the spell room and the fresh air would be a nice change.
An hour later he was headed back home. It had been a good idea to deliver the baskets. The farmer's wife was delighted and showed it by insisting he stay for a large helping of peach cobbler with fresh cream.
The late summer sun was warm on his back as he walked beside the pasture where Farmer Tomkin kept his horses. A squirrel on a nearby branch chattered at him. He stopped to lean on a tree and watch as two colts frolicked in the tall grass.
“You two have the right idea,” he said to the colts. He relaxed his heels and slid down the tree to settle in a comfortable spot between the roots. “This is too nice a day to be working.”
He laid his head back against the tree. Closing his eyes he let the sun warm his face. It was a perfect day. Lazy minutes passed filled with pleasant memories of playing in his father's vineyard.
A familiar voice jerked him back to reality. “You look pretty comfortable. Mind if we join you?”
Liam jumped to his feet. “Willow! You're back. And Mica too.”
Mica laughed. “Lucky for you hero, we're not goblins.”
He shot Mica a look. Then a troubling thought crossed his mind. Turning back to Willow he said, “Did you run into trouble with goblins?”
She smiled and said, “No, the secret paths are too well traveled by the elves. But I do bring news. My people are narrowing the search for the source of the poison.”
Liam anxiously looked from one to the other. “They don't know what it is?”
“It seems to be a secretion of some type, but not an exact match to any animal known to the elves.”
“What kind of animal would be unknown to the elves?” Liam asked.
“I'm not certain. But I'm confident they will soon uncover the source. My king believes there may be a connection to the door you discovered at the lake.”
“Your king can't expect you to go poking around there by yourself. There could be trolls or goblins lurking behind every rock.”
Mica snorted. “Of course not. We're going with her. So let's go get your sword, hero. Besides, we need to report to the Doormaster.”
When the Doormaster heard Willow's news, he agreed they should use the doors to get to the lake. The three companions quickly gathered their provisions and met at the potion room door. The afternoon was slipping away and no one wanted to be sharing the dark woods with goblins and trolls.
Liam fumbled with the gold key. His palms were sweating and his hand slipped on the doorknob as he opened the door.
Willow and Mica ducked through the door and waited while Liam turned the key in the lock. He squeezed past them in the narrow aisle. Willow stepped closer to Mica, her eyes scanning the overhanging shelves. His feet kicked up dust that drifted eerily in the room's soft glow.
“After you, hero.” Mica's voice sounded out of place, like a sneeze in church.
Liam led the way turning first left and then right, following the path to Drindle's Bakery.
Willow stepped forward and placed her hand on Liam's shoulder. Her voice just above a whisper, she said, “We're being watched.”
He nodded. “I feel it too, but I've never seen anyone.”
“They are just shadows flickering among the shelves,” she said. “I can't make out their forms.”
They continued down the aisle. Mica and Willow continuously scanned the shelves, but Liam was more concerned with finding the red and yellow urn. They should have come to that intersection by now. Could the tommyknockers have moved it?
He continued to move forward, stopping at every intersection and peering down the dimly lit aisles.
Finally, Mica noticed. “Tell me we're just taking a different route and we're not lost.”
“I was sure this was the way,” Liam said, “but sometimes the paths change here.”
“This dust and gloom is nothing like my woods, but when I find myself confused, I try retracing my steps.”
Mica looked down at the floor. “That shouldn't be hard with all this dust.”
Now Mica took the lead with Willow following. The footprints lead twisting and turning. Liam was watching the floor and bumped into Willow's back when she stopped abruptly.
Liam looked up and saw they were standing at a dead end. Large cluttered shelves closed them in on three sides. “What happened?” he said. “Did we lose the trail?”
“No...” Mica said.
Willow pointed to the floor where the prints disappeared under the shelf. “We seem to have walked through this wall.”
While Mica and Willow searched the shelves for an answer, Liam wandered back down the aisle to the last intersection. The dust on the floor was a mass of overlapping prints. He stood in the center of the aisle looking first left then right. Studying the floor he saw a faint outline of an old boot print. Kneeling down he saw several more leading down the left hand aisle.
He heard footsteps behind him. Mica said, “On your knees looking for divine guidance?”
“Well, I hope he has better luck than we did. The trail back there ends at a solid wall of clutter.”
Liam pointed to the boot prints. “We could follow these.”
Willow looked closely. “Ah, the prints of the illusive shadows?”
“I believe so,” Liam said.
“Now we're chasing shadows,” Mica mumbled as he fell into line behind Willow.
After several minutes of following the prints they came to another intersection. To Liam's great relief, there sat the red and yellow urn steaming away on its three legged stone stool.
“Whew,” Liam sighed under his breath. He smiled back at Willow. “I know the way from here.”
Without more mishap he led the others to Drindle's door, and up the stairs and through the ill fitted door to the kitchen.
No fresh baked rolls awaited them this time. The kitchen sparkled. A bright copper kettle sat in the corner. Clean earthen bowls and baking tins hung neatly on the wall. Shining utensils lay in orderly rows on the shelf. A faint hint of heat radiated from the brick oven.
From the front of the shop they could hear Drindle's voice. “Enjoy your day Mrs. Mayfield.”
They heard a lady's laugh. “I'm sure my family is going to love these wonderful cakes.”
The bell jingled on the door as she left. Liam peeked through the curtain. Drindle had just picked up the broom to tidy up the shop.
Seeing there were no other customers, Liam pulled back the curtain. “Hello, Mr. Drindle,” he said as he stepped into the shop.
The baker looked up from his sweeping. “Oh, Liam. And you brought your friends for a visit.”
Liam felt a twinge of guilt. “Well, sir. Not... not exactly. We've come to ask if we can use your door to the castle.”
Drindle nodded. “I see. Going to visit a certain young lady again?” With a start Liam realized that he hadn't even told Belinda they were coming. The baker rocked back on his heels and stroked his chin. “I seem to recall a night not too long ago when some coppers appeared on the worktable and a few sweets disappeared from my basket.”
Mica coughed and gave Liam a guilty look.
Willow stepped forward in the awkward silence. “Actually sir,” she said, “I'm the reason we need to go to the castle. I'm on an errand for my king.”
“That sounds urgent,” Drindle said.
Willow and Mica started telling about the goblins and trolls. Seeing it would take them a while to explain everything, Liam stepped outside. Hoping Belinda would answer, he slipped the shell over his ear and whistled softly.
She didn't answer. He whistled louder and waited, but no answer. He turned to t
he door to go back inside. His hand was on the knob when he heard her voice. “Liam? Liam? Are you there?”
“Belinda. Good to hear your voice. I thought you might not be wearing the shell.”
“I wasn't. It was in my pocket. I wasn't sure I had really heard your whistle.”
“I have news. We are headed to the castle now. Things have been happening so fast I didn't have a chance to call you. Will you be able to meet us by Drindle's door?”
“Oh dear. I wish that I could, but it's not possible. I'm meeting with the royal seamstress. She's fitting the princess for her first ball gown.”
Liam heard the disappointment in her voice, and it matched his own. “Maybe it's for the best. The castle stop was really just a stepping stone. Willow is on a mission from her king. Mica and I are taking her to the lake to see the troll door.”
“The troll door! Do you think that's safe?”
“That's why we couldn't let Willow go alone. It's still daylight. We should be okay.” Liam paused. “I guess I won't see you until the ball then.”
“Oh, there's the seamstress. Wait 'til you see my dress. I have to run, but I'm saving you the first dance.”
Liam's shell went silent and he tucked it into his pocket with a sigh. What would Belinda say when she found out he couldn't dance?
He went back inside. Mica looked his way. “Well, hero. You ‘bout ready?”
Drindle waved his long arm from behind the counter. “He's right. Move quickly now. It'll be dark before long. You kids need to be back here before dark.” He led the way to the castle door. Taking the key down from its hook, he unlocked it.
He shooed them through. As Liam passed, Drindle said, “I'll leave the door unlocked. Hurry back. I'll be watching for your return.”
Liam stepped into the long twisted corridor lined with doors. Most of the traders were done for the day. The few stragglers moved quickly through the corridor with their heads down. It was close to dinnertime and most were concerned only with returning home.
Willow looked around in wonder at the doors. “So many,” she said. “And all so different.” She crossed the hallway and ran her hand over the ornate carving. Birds and flowering vines twisted around elvish runes. “This might have been made by my clan.”
He pointed to a large rough cut door with rusted hinges. “Elves didn't make them all,” Mica said. “This one's more suited to a stable.”
Liam laughed. “It could lead to a stable, but we need to keep moving. We want to get across the lake and back before dark.”
He led them past doors of every shape, size, and description. Foot traffic picked up as they neared the central hub. They blended in with the last of the castle vendors.
Liam pulled Willow to the side. “This way,” he said. “The first passage was the scales and then the archer.”
No one noticed them as they turned down the passage marked with a ramping lion. The doors here were newer and showed less wear. Liam hurried along the corridor, turned the corner, and stopped abruptly.
Mica said, “Wrong turn, hero?”
“No,” he said and pointed to a blank spot between two doors. “It's gone.”
“How can you be sure?” Willow asked. “There are many doors. Perhaps one of the other passages?”
“This is the corridor of the lion.” He pointed above where the door should have been. “Here is the plaque with the king’s boat.”
“Why would someone move the door and leave the plaque?” asked Willow.
“I don't know,” Liam said. “This is very strange. They could have moved it to another corridor and it would still work. But why move it at all?”
“Why indeed?” asked Willow.
“What now?” Mica said. “We can't check every passage.”
“Nothing for it but to retrace our steps,” Willow said. “I'll have to find another way to the lake.”
The Doormaster's Apprentice Page 29
