The Warlock is Missing

Chapter 2

Through the forest went the unicorn, so smoothly that she seemed to glide. Dabs of sunlight lay here and there about, making the green of the leaves seem darker, but filling the woods with brightness. Cordelia rode blithely through the cool shade, singing with joy, happily ignoring her brothers, who flitted through the trees to either side, calling for her to stop.

Puck had vanished.

Then Cordelia rode out of the trees and into a village.

It was very small, perhaps a dozen houses, set against the foot of a rocky slope, with open meadow between itself and the forest. Cordelia called out happily, expecting people to look up in amazement when they saw her astride her unicorn.

Only silence answered.

Cordelia lost her smile. She stared ahead, realizing that she could see no one in the village, not a soul.

Gregory swooped toward her. The unicorn shied, and he swerved away, calling, "Cordelia, none live in that village— and there hath been fire! Turn back!"

"I cannot," Cordelia answered. " 'Tis the unicorn who doth go where she wist, not I who guide her." Though, truth to tell, she suspected that her mount would have turned aside, if Cordelia had asked it of her.

Now that they were closer, she could see the remains of the fire Gregory had spoken of. The walls of the cottages were scorched, their thatched roofs burned away, leaving only charred timbers. A huge black blemish hid the village common; what was left of its green field was brown and brittle grass. Doors swung ajar; bowls and tools lay scattered where they had fallen.

The deserted village lay silent; the only sound was the sigh of the wind. A shutter clattered against a window, then sagged open again. In the forest behind them, birds sang—but none here.

Magnus hovered near a roof-beam, reaching out to touch it. He snatched his hand away with an oath. " 'Tis yet hot, and embers glow. This fire burned not long agone."

Geoffrey nodded, landing near the square, looking about him. "The doors may swing in the wind, but none have torn from their hinges—nor are the wooden bowls and tool-handles weathered."

"They have left with no plan aforetime." Gregory stared about him.

The unicorn halted, nose pointed toward the mountainside.

"'Tis here that she hath meant to come, I think." Cordelia's voice was low. "And she did intend to bring us here."

"'Tis reason enough to go, and quickly," Gregory whispered.

"Nay!" Magnus's heels jolted against the charred earth as he landed. "I would we had not come—but now that we have, we must discover what hath happed in this place. There may be folk in need of such aid as we can offer."

"Nay!" Puck popped up from a burned-out bush. "Thou must needs go back, and quickly! For the elves of this village have told me what hath happed this night past!"

"Then say!"

"What was't?"

"Tell, Robin!" The boys clustered around him.

"A dragon."

The boys only stared. Cordelia watched, wide-eyed, from the back of her unicorn.

Puck nodded. "A great, vile monster it was, fifty feet from nose to tail-tip, with fangs of steel and fiery breath!" He whirled, pointing to the mountainside. "Seest thou where it did crawl away?"

The children looked and, for the first time, noticed a broad trail of scorched earth that led away from the village and up the rocky slope, winding away out of sight around the curve of the hill.

"And it lurks up there still?" Geoffrey whispered.

Puck shrugged. "Who may say? Never have the Wee Folk seen the monster aforetime. Mayhap 'tis gone again."

"Or mayhap it doth lurk about the countryside," said Geoffrey, "awaiting the unwary passerby."

Huge feet pounded the dusty lane behind them, and a massive body clashed against a burned-out wall.

The children spun about, hearts hammering; the unicorn

whirled to face whatever came, and Puck leaped out in front of them all, arms poised to hurl his most dire spell.

An enormous black horse came around a cottage and out into the village square.

The children stared, frozen.

Then they whooped with relief and ran to leap onto the animal, throwing their arms around its neck and drumming their heels against its sides. "Fess!"

"How good art thou to come!"

"We should ha' known thou wouldst follow!"

Fess was their father's horse, and a very strange and wonderful horse he was. Papa said he was made of steel, and that the horsehair covering him was only put on with something like glue. Papa said he was a "robot," but the children weren't sure what that meant. They knew it was something magical, though, because Fess could do things that no ordinary horse could—and one of them was talking. Only to Papa, usually —but he could let Mama and the children hear him if he wanted to. Inside their minds.

"You should have known I would not let you wander without me, children," he scolded. "And you were very naughty to stray off by yourselves."

"But we are not alone," Gregory assured him. "Puck is here."

"And this!" Cordelia whirled away, suddenly remembering her unicorn. She threw her arms about the beast's neck, as though she were afraid it would get away. "I have a new friend, Fess!"

The big black horse stared at the unicorn for a moment. Then his knees began to tremble. "But… unicorns do not… exist…" Suddenly, his head dropped like a stone, and his legs locked stiff. His head swung gently between his fetlocks.

"We should have warned him," Gregory said.

"We should indeed." Magnus heaved a sigh. "Ever doth he have such a seizure, when he doth encounter something that he thinks cannot be real."

Puck nodded. "So he did when first he did espy an elf. Yet I should think he would have become accustomed to the sight of strange new beings."

"Papa said 'tis one of the nicest things about Fess," Cordelia explained, "that he never doth grow used to strange new sights."

Magnus groped beneath Fess's saddle horn for the big lump

in his backbone. He found it and pressed hard. Something clicked, and Fess slowly raised his head. "I… had a… seizure… did I not?"

"Thou didst," Magnus replied, "because thou didst see a unicorn."

Slowly, Fess turned toward the snow-white animal. "Unicorns… are mythical…"

"Mayhap she would think the same of iron horses," Cordelia said, irritated.

The unicorn was eyeing Fess warily, and her nostrils were flaring.

"I can comprehend her feelings," Fess murmured.

Geoffrey exchanged a glance with Magnus. "Ought we to tell him?"

"You surely must!" Fess's head swiveled, the great eyes staring at him. "What should I know?"

"We are not sure thou shouldst." Magnus avoided Fess's eyes. "It might cause thee to have another seizure."

Fess was still a moment, then said, "I have braced my system for my senses tell me things that I know cannot be true. Since I am prepared, I will not have a seizure. Tell me, please."

Magnus exchanged one last glance with Geoffrey, then gestured about them. "Dost thou see signs of fire?"

"Of course. This village has suffered a major conflagration. No doubt that is why its people have fled."

"But it has burned out." Gregory tugged at Fess's mane in a bid for attention. "Would not they have come back?"

Fess was still a moment, then nodded. "One would think so, yes. Why do you think they have not?"

Gregory exchanged glances with Magnus, then said, " 'Tis because of what did cause this fire."

"And what was that?" Fess's tone hardened.

The boys locked gazes with one another, and Magnus said, "There is no easy way to say it." He turned to Fess. "It was a dragon."

Fess stood very still. They all watched, waiting in apprehension.

Finally, the robot said, "I have accepted the idea. I do not understand how a dragon may exist, but I recognize the possibility."

The four children heaved a huge sigh of relief.

Puck frowned up at the horse. 'Tell us, then, O Fount' of

Wisdom—how shall four children and an elf do battle with a dragon?"

"Do not forget the unicorn." Fess turned to look at Cordelia's mount. "It is a dragon's natural enemy, according to tradition."

Gregory stared. "Thou dost not mean to say that, because the dragon came, the unicorn appeared to battle it!"

Fess was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded. "It is possible. Given the buried powers of the people of Gramarye and the potentialities of the environment—yes. It could have happened as you say."

"But the unicorn could not oppose the dragon by herself!" Cordelia cried. "Surely she is too delicate!"

"Do not underestimate her," Fess advised. "The legends say the unicorn had great strength."

"Yet there's truth in what Cordelia doth say." Geoffrey frowned. "This unicorn knew she stood in need of aid to fight so fearsome a monster—and therefore sought us out."

"But how could she have known of us, if she is but newly come?" Cordelia demanded.

They looked at each other, puzzled. As for Puck and Fess, if they suspected the answer, they kept it to themselves.

Then Magnus shrugged. "However 'twas, she knew of us. Can we not then lend her the aid that she doth seek?"

"We can," Puck said slowly, "but I've some doubt as to our powers. Mayhap all the elves in Gramarye could overwhelm the dragon—but there would be grievous losses. I misdoubt me an we poor few could bring it to defeat—and I'm loathe to try. If one of thou wast hurt, children, thy mother and father would ne'er forgive me. There might yet be elves in Gramarye, but the Puck would not be amongst them!"

Geoffrey scowled. "Surely thou art not afeard!"

"Nay, but I've some small amount of sense."

"He speaks wisely," Fess agreed. "We are too few to overcome such a monster by brute force—and you, children, might well be killed in the attempt. If we are to assist the unicorn and fight the dragon, it must be by trickery."

Cordelia, Magnus, and Geoffrey just stared at each other —but Gregory plumped down cross-legged and closed his eyes.

Geoffrey frowned. "What doth he? 'Tis no time to…"

"Hush!" Magnus held up a hand, palm outward. "Let him be!"

Gregory opened his eyes. " 'Tis his flame. An we put out his fire, he will sleep for an hundred years or more—until one doth give him flame again."

Geoffrey stared.

Magnus asked, carefully, "Whence cometh this knowledge?"

"Why, from Vidor."

"Vidor!" Cordelia stepped over to him, fists on her hips. "Thine imaginary friend? Are we to go to battle with naught but the advice of a dream?"

"He is no dream!" Gregory's face puckered in a scowl. "Vidor is real!"

"Then how is't none but thee ever doth see him?" Geoffrey gibed.

"Why, for that he's not here."

Geoffrey threw up his hands. "He is not here. Ever dost thou tell us he is real—yet he is not here!"

"I've never said he's here!" Gregory insisted. "He cannot be—he's in Tir Chlis!"

His brothers and sister were instantly silent, staring at him. Tir Chlis was the magical land they had all been kidnapped to when Gregory was a baby.

"There was a babe," Magnus said softly, "the son of Lord Kern, the High Warlock of that land;"

"The man who looked so like our Papa," Cordelia agreed, "and whose baby son was the image of our Gregory."

"He yet is," Gregory said helpfully. "He looked into a mirror for me, and I looked out through his eyes. I might have been gazing at myself."

"When Mama was in Tir Chlis, she could hear Gregory's mind." Magnus was watching his littlest brother. "She could hear him when she held Lord Kern's babe."

"Aye," Cordelia breathed, "because Gregory's mind did reach across the emptiness between our world and Tir Chlis, to blend with the babe's."

"It is all impossible," Fess sighed, "but since you children, and your parents, have experienced it, I cannot but acknowledge that it may have happened."

"And if it did, then why should Gregory not have continual conference with this Lord Kern's son?" Puck's gaze didn't waver from Gregory's face. "How sayest thou, O Beast of Cold Iron? Is there no absurd word for this?"

"There is, though it's not absurd," Fess said stiffly. "Lord

Kern's son is Gregory's analog, in an alternate universe."

"And could he indeed advise our Gregory as to dragons— this 'analog'?"

"His name is Vidor!" Gregory cried.

"Yes. Vidor is your analog in Tir Chlis." Fess nodded. "And he could give you information about dragons—if there are dragons in Tir Chlis."

"Oh, there are! Their knights have had to fight them for ever so long!"

The others exchanged glances again. "Ought we to believe it?" Geoffrey asked.

"Certes thou shouldst! Vidor would not fib to me!"

"'Tis difficult to do so, when another hears thy thoughts," Magnus agreed, "and I see no harm in making the attempt."

"No harm!" bawled his baby sitter. "When thou and thy brothers and sister could but serve as kindling for his flame? When this dragon may but roast thee first, and taste thee later? No harm!!?.'"

"Nay," said Magnus, "for how doth one put out a dragon's flame?"

They all looked at one another, at a loss.

Then Fess said, "With water.".

"Aye, certes!" Cordelia beamed. "Thou lads can all make things to disappear, and appear again in different places! Thou canst wisk small boulders inside trees—for I've seen thee do it, for no better reason than to watch them fly apart with great explosions!"

"Thou hast what?" Puck cried, scandalized. Trees were very special to elves.

"'Twas but an idle prank." Magnus couldn't meet Puck's gaze, "A foolish notion, and deeply do I regret it." And how he regretted it—when the treetop fell, it had almost crushed him. "But boulders will not damp a dragon's flame." .

"Nay, but water will, as Fess doth say." Gregory's eyes lit with enthusiasm. "And if we can Whisk boulders about, we can do the same with gobs of water!"

Magnus and Geoffrey looked at each other. Magnus lifted his eyebrows. Geoffrey shrugged, and closed his eyes, tilting his head back.

There was a loud CRACK! and a three-foot shimmering ball appeared right above Cordelia's head. An instant later, it fell apart with a huge splash, drenching her from head to toe.

"Oh! Thou curmudgeon!" she cried, and a glob of soot

flew from the nearest burned-out house to strike Geoffrey right in the face. "Thou shrew!" he shouted, and leaped at Cordelia.

But Magnus jumped in between them, slamming his body against Geoffrey's. The younger boy tumbled to the ground. "Nay!" Big Brother said. "'Tis the dragon we must fight, not one another!"

"But she hath soiled my doublet past believing! Mama will have my hide!"

"Pear not," Magnus assured him, "I'll wash it for thee," and with a CRACK! another globe of water appeared over Geoffrey and, with a SPLOOSH! surged down over him. He floundered to his feet, sputtering in rage, while Cordelia laughed in delight. Geoffrey glared at Magnus, but Big Brother said, "Nay, hold! Ere thou dost bethink thee of any more mischief, consider—thy tunic's cleaned, and thou hast still a dragon to fight."

Geoffrey calmed instantly, and even began to smile again. The thought of a good fight always cheered him up.

They drifted up the rocky hillside, following the dragon's trail. Scorched earth and cracked rocks showed where the monster had passed.

"Is he still so angered, that he must needs blast at all that doth come within his path?" Geoffrey wondered.

Magnus chewed at his lip. "Thou dost bethink thee that he must needs breathe fire out of anger."

"Why, certes," Geoffrey said in surprise. "I would."

"Thou art not a dragon."

Cordelia started to say something, but she saw Puck glare at her, and closed her mouth.

"Mayhap a dragon cannot breathe outward without breathing flame," Gregory guessed.

"And mayhap he doth it for joy." Cordelia's broomstick seemed to dance in an upward current of air.

"For myself," Puck called up from ground level, "I wonder less wherefore this dragon doth breathe fire, than why thou four must needs hunt it. Dost thou feel not the slightest fear?"

"None," Geoffrey said, a little too quickly.

"Only enough to lend excitement," Cordelia called.

Magnus shook his head. "'Tis folly. Be mindful, this beast could roast us in an instant."

Gregory nodded. "I fear. Yet not greatly, Puck—for an the beast doth threaten, I can soar upwards. Or even disappear, back to the village."

"There's some truth in that," the elf admitted. "Yet mind thee not to come too close, or he will fry thee ere thou canst flit."

Scales rattled against rock.

" 'Ware!" Puck cried. "The beast doth come!"

The children shot upward as though they'd been thrown from a catapult

Around a wall of rock it came, its body as big as a cottage, its neck long and tapering, its head as high as a rooftop. A row of pointed plates came down the top of its neck and along its backbone to the tip of its tail, where it ended in a huge arrowhead. It was green with yellow streaks here and there, and had eyes the size of dinner plates. Its muzzle was long and wide, with flaring nostrils. A forked tongue flicked out of its mouth, tasting the air.

Fess began to tremble.

"Nay!" Geoffrey shouted. "Thou hast known of this, Fess!"

"You have told me," the robot agreed, "yet encountering the reality strains my conceptual framework…"

"It may have been made by magic like unto Father's," Gregory called.

Fess calmed. "It could be a robot, as I myself am. True."

A streak of silver flashed past Fess. The unicorn reared in front of him, dancing off toward the side of the path, drawing the dragon's attention away from the horse. She pawed the air, aiming her horn toward the monster.

The dragon roared. A tongue of flame blasted out ten feet in front of it. It waddled toward the unicorn with astonishing

"Nay!" Cordelia shrieked, and her broomstick shot downward in a power dive. "Get thee away from my darling, thou monster!"

"Cordelia, up!" Puck shouted in panic. "He will sear thee!" The dragon looked up, took a deep breath, and roared. Flame lashed out fifteen feet; but Cordelia pulled out of her dive and swooped upward, with a good twenty feet to spare. "Cordelia!" Gregory cried. "Thy broomstick!" Cordelia turned, startled. The straws behind her had burst

into flame. But even as she stared, a ball of water materialized around the fire with a whip-crack sound. It rained downward, leaving smoking straw.

It also splashed on the dragon's muzzle, hissing up into steam. The beast roared with pain and blasted flame at Corde-lia again.

"Why, thou horrid beast!" she cried in indignation, and a boulder shot up from the ground to crash into the dragon's jaw. It bellowed in anger, then suddenly clamped its jaws shut as its whole body rocked, as though from the blow of an invisible fist. The strangest look of puzzlement came over its face, just before its body rocked again. Then its cheeks swelled, its chin tucked in, and it let loose a huge belch of hissing steam. It swallowed, then tried a tentative roar. The sound came, but no flame. It frowned, and roared again—and again, and again. A little steam came out, but not so much as a spark.

Magnus scowled at it, thinking toward it as hard as he could. Sleep. His brothers and sister joined their thoughts to his. So sleepy… Need shelter… Cave… Go back…

The dragon blinked, staring about, stupefied. Slowly, it turned around and began to climb the hillside again. It disap-peared around the cliff-face.

The children drifted upward, following. Fess and the uni-corn climbed, too, but a bit more cautiously.

They found it again just as it dragged itself into a gaping hole near the top of the hill. They came lower warily to peer into the darkness, and could just barely make out the huge scaly form as it curved back on itself, coiling up to rest its chin on its tail. The huge eyelids blinked, then closed. It gave a sigh of contentment. The children watched, waiting, as its breathing deepened and steadied. Finally, it snored.

" 'Tis even as thou didst say," Geoffrey said to Gregory.

"Certes," Gregory said indignantly. "Vidor would not fib to us."

"Some unwary soul might wander in there," Magnus said thoughtfully.

"Indeed," Puck said, from among the rocks. "And evil souls might seek it out, to light its fire once again."

"Not truly!" Cordelia cried in dismay. "Surely people are not so horrid!"

"I doubt me not an Puck doth know whereof he doth speak," Magnus said grimly.

Geoffrey grinned. "We would not wish our poor, weary dragon to be rudely wakened, would we?"

"Indeed we would not," Magnus said, with decision. "Up, my hearties! Get thee clear!"

Geoffrey scowled, but he bobbed upward, rising as fast as a March kite, and Gregory followed.

Magnus and Cordelia drifted upward, too, and away from the cliff. Together, they concentrated on a huge boulder high above the cave. It stirred, then moved a little bit forward, then a little bit backward, then a little bit forward again, then backward, beginning to rock like a cradle. It rocked harder, and harder and harder—until, all at once, it rocked just a little too far, seeming to balance on the edge of the cliff for a moment, then slowly, majestically, bowed forward and fell, crashing and booming down the hillside, knocking loose a horde of smaller boulders behind it. Down and down they stormed, more and more, until a full avalanche crashed into the ledge, to bury the entrance to the dragon's cave under a fifty-foot pile of rock.

"He will sleep now," Gregory said softly, "forever, I think."

"Or unless someone is foolish enough to seek to wake him," Puck said, frowning. "For mind you, news of this will pass from village to village right quickly, and the tale will grow greater with each telling. Within a fortnight, I doubt not, folk will speak of a tall and noble knight who did this deed, not four children; and by year's end, 'twill be a legend full-blown. Mothers will tell it to their babes at nightfall to lull them to sleep—and when those babes grow up, like as not one of them will find a way to burrow into this cave, to discover whether or not there's truth to the tale."

The children stared, eyes huge. "Such an one would not be so foolish as to seek to light the dragon's fire again, would he?" Magnus asked.

But Geoffrey nodded with certainty. "Oh, aye. For naught but to be able to say he had done it—aye. I can credit it."

"That thou canst, I am sure," Cordelia snorted. "Yet could any but Geoffrey be so foolish, Puck?"

The elf only shook his head and sighed, "Lord, what fools these mortals be," and led the children away.

Cordelia was riding the unicorn again as they came down to the burned-out village. Puck stopped and called out in a cur-

ious, warbling tone. The hillside lay quiet a moment; then a little man dressed all in brown, with a face tanned dark by sun and wind, popped up from between two small boulders. "What dost thou wish, Merry Wanderer?"

"Bear the word," Puck commanded. "The dragon sleeps behind a wall of stone."

"We have seen," the brownie chortled. "We rejoice. A thousand thanks rain down on thee, Robin Goodfellow! And these children, whom thou hast brought to our aid!"

Cordelia blushed, and bowed her head graciously. Magnus and Geoffrey bowed; but Gregory only stared.

The little man frowned at him. "Why, how is this? Hast thou never seen a brownie ere now?"

Slowly, Gregory shook his head, eyes round as shillings.

The brownie lifted his head, and smiled gently. "Well, small wonder. Few are the mortals who ever do see any of the Wee Folk—and they're never heeded. Their mothers and fathers laugh at them, or think them crazed—as do their play-mates. And never doth one see us, once he's grown."

"Save these," Puck qualified, "and their parents."

"Aye," the brownie admitted, "yet they're not so mortal as most There's something of the elf about them."

Puck glanced nervously up at the children, then back at the brownie. "Aye, they're magic folk, indeed, as thou hast seen." The brownie started to say something, but Puck overrode him. "Now do thou bear the word! And let thy villagers begin to think 'tis safe to come back and rebuild their homes —so long as they do keep fools from that hillside."

The brownie nodded. "A good thought. They'll have their homes again, and we'll have guards."

"Even as thou sayest," Puck agreed. "Now go!"

The brownie grinned, and disappeared.

Gregory still stared at the place where he'd been.

"Aye—enjoy the sight of them, whilst thou may," Puck advised him, "for they be shy folk, these brownies, and will most assuredly not show themselves to thee when thou art grown." He turned to Cordelia. "Where doth thy mount wish to take thee now?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Nowhere, Robin. She doth attend us in docility."

Puck frowned. "'Tis not the way of unicorns, for all I've heard of them."

"Have you never seen one before?" Fess asked quickly.

"Once," Puck admitted, "but 'twas two hundred years agone. As I've said, they do be shy."

"Then perhaps he wishes to repay your kindness, by serving Cordelia awhile longer," Fess suggested.

Puck nodded. "That hath the ring of lightness to it—and her aid will be welcomed, I assure thee." Aid in what, Puck didn't say. He only sighed, and turned away. "Come, children. Thou hast had thine adventure for the day. 'Tis time to turn thy steps homeward."

"But, Puck," Geoffrey protested, "'tis noon—and I am hungered."

Puck stopped. For the count of ten, he stood very still.

Then he turned back with a sigh. "Well, 'twill occupy some time. But I warn thee, if thou dost wish to eat, thou must needs catch thy dinner."