The Warlock is Missing

Chapter 3

What with gathering, preparing, cooking, and eating, lunch took two hours. For some reason, Puck didn't object. He didn't even try to hurry them.

Finally, he ordered them to put out the fire and start for home. When the ashes were a sodden mass, he pronounced them safe, and started back into the forest. The unicorn followed, with Cordelia singing and Fess bringing up the rear. The boys darted ahead, playing tree-tag.

Gregory ducked behind an oak with a giggle of delight— that turned into a cry of dismay as a crackly voice howled, "Owwww! Me head! Me shoulder! Ye vasty clumsy oaf, can ye not see where one hangs in distress?"

Magnus and Geoffrey popped out of hiding and exchanged startled glances—but Cordelia glowered and shot off toward her little brother's voice on her broomstick. The boys leaped after her.

"I—I am sorry," Gregory stammered. "I had not meant to injure thee."

The voice softened amazingly. "Why, 'tis naught but a bairn! There now, laddie, be of good cheer. 'Tis the way of lads to be careless and blundering, surely. Eh, but ye must not let the nasty old elf afright ye!"

Puck popped up out of the underbrush right in front of Cordelia and the boys, scowling up at the oak tree, arms akimbo. "Why, thou knob, thou burl! How hast thou grown out of that limb?"

The elf whirled to glare at him—and went on whirling, with a yelp of dismay. He dangled from the lowest branch of the oak by a silver chain. One end was wrapped around his middle; the other was tied to the tree.

"Must thou forever be asking, sprite?" he squalled. "Is't not enough for ye, to see that one of yer kind stands in need of yer aid? Nay, be done with yer askin', and pry me loose from this devil's contrivance!"

A slow grin spread over Puck's face. "Nay, I think not. Thou dost well adorn this old tree."

The elf sputtered and fumed at him. He was shorter than Puck, only a foot high—or long, in his present position—and was clutching a green top hat, to keep it on his head. His coat was green, too—a swallow-tailed cutaway—and so were his knee breeches. But his weskit was saffron, and his stockings were white. His shoes were black, with gleaming buckles. He wore a brown forked beard and a scowl. "I might ha' known," he grated. "What else ought I expect from the Puck?"

"Ah," Puck cried in mock surprise, "dost thou know me, then?"

"What one of the Wee Folk would not know ye, ye addle-pated, idling jester? Surely none who labor could help but know of him who only passes time in mischief!"

Gregory frowned. "But the Wee Folk do not labor—save the gnomes, who mine, and the dwarves, who craft—yet thou art neither."

"See ye not his clothes?" the top-hatted elf pointed at Puck. "See ye not his shoes? Dost'a think Robin Goodfellow would craft his own?"

Cordelia caught her breath and clapped her hands. "I know thee now! Thou art a fairies' shoemaker!"

The elf swept off his hat, clapping it to his stomach, and bowed his head. "The same, sweet lass!"

"Why dost thou wear green and saffron?" Geoffrey asked.

"Why, for that he's Irish," Puck said, with a lopsided grin. "Yet Erin's Wee Folk ever wore their whiskers in fringes round their chins, and ne'er did wear moustaches. Wherefore is thy beard so long?"

"And forked?" Magnus added.

"Why, 'tis because my forebears came from the Holy Land in bygone ages."

"From Judea?" Gregory asked, wide-eyed.

The elf nodded.

"Then," cried Cordelia, "thou art…"

"A leprecohen." The elf inclined his head again. "Kelly McGoldbagel stands ready't' serve ye."

"Nay; he doth hang." Puck squinted up at the silver chain. "How didst thou come to so sad a pass, elf?"

Kelly's face reddened. "'Tis a foul brute of a Sassenach landlord hath done me thus, belike with the aid of an Ulster witch! For how else would he ha' known that naught but a

silver chain could hold a leprecohen?"

"And to hold him in it the whiles he did unearth thy crock of gold?" Puck guessed.

" 'Tis a foul thief!" Kelly bawled. " 'Tis a highway robber who doth not hearken to the words an elf doth say!"

"Or who doth attend them too shrewdly, belike," Puck snorted. "Nay, thy kindred are famed in the Faery Kingdom for the oaths they break in spirit, the whiles they heed their letter!"

"Oaths that are forced!" Kelly howled. "Oaths extorted, under pain of prison! How binding could such be?"

"As binding as a silver chain," Magnus pointed out. "Should we not pluck thee from this branch ere we talk longer?"

"Aye, and greatly would I thank yer worship!" Kelly nodded so fiercely that he began a slow rotation again. "Oy vay! I beg thee, good laddie, bring me down!"

Magnus floated up and untied the chain from the limb.

"Here now, gently! Carefully!" Kelly chewed at his beard. "Have a care when ye loose the knot—I've more weight than ye'd suspect!"

"Why, then, I shall support thee," Cordelia declared.

"What, ye? Why, how couldst thou, lass? Thou'rt not even near… Whuh!"

Magnus pulled the last strand of chain, and the knot fell open. Kelly plummeted, with a shout of terror—all of about an inch. "What! But… How… Eh! But I'm drifting!"

"Down to the ground," Cordelia assured him. "It but took me a moment to gauge thy weight."

"Eh! But a nasty turn ye gave me!" Kelly grumbled. "Why could ye not but say… Um. Aye. Thou didst."

Cordelia nodded brightly. "Now dost thou believe me?"

"Aye." Kelly peered up at her from under shaggy eyebrows, while his head swung up slowly and his feet swung down to touch the turf. "But would ye be tellin' me how ye come to be able to… Oh. Ye're a witch-lass, are ye not, now?"

"Now, or at any time," Cordelia agreed. "And I assure thee, I've borne many loads more weighty than thou."

"I'm believing you," the elf muttered. Then he saw the white head and silver horn behind her, and his eyes rounded. "Eh! But what wondrous beastie is this?"

" 'Tis a unicorn," Cordelia answered.

Kelly spared her a glance of scorn. "And never would I have been guessing it! Eh, but surely!" His gaze fastened to the creature again, rapt with wonder. "Why, 'tis years since I've seen one! Hundreds of years!"

'Two hundreds?" Gregory guessed; but Kelly seemed not to hear him.

He stepped over to the unicorn, reaching up to touch her knee lightly, then probing with a bony finger. "'Tis real enough, truly! Eh! Magic one!"

The unicorn lowered her head, letting Kelly touch her nose.

"Now may all spirits of wood and dell defend ye!" the elf breathed. Finally, he turned back to Cordelia. "But how comes this magic creature to accompany ye?"

"She came to seek us out," Cordelia explained, "for that she'd found a dragon, and needed our aid to subdue it."

"To subdue… ? And ye… ?" The elf's voice came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat, glanced at Puck, then back at the children. "Am I to understand ye did it? Conquered a dragon, I mean. Did ye?"

"Aye, but it did take all of our efforts."

"Oh, did it now!" And Kelly turned away, shaking his head and muttering, "Children! Babes, they are! And a dragon? Naught but babes!"

Then he whirled toward Puck, forefinger stabbing out. "Why, ye scurvy knave! Ye bloody boar of a Sassenach! Ye Tory scoundrel! Would ye, then, let mere babes stand against the foulest of monsters?"

"I would not, but they did insist on giving thee rescue." Puck's eyes narrowed. "Wouldst thou believe I might truly allow these children to come to harm?"

"Believe it? Aye—and proclaim it! Why, ye fevered son of a horse-trader, what e'er possessed thee to hazard these wee, poor babes to such peril?"

"But," Geoffrey said, "we are not…"

"… staying," Puck snapped, cutting him off. "Children, come! Thy good deed is done, and he whom thou hast aided doth denounce us! Turn, and away!" He spun, and strode toward the underbrush.

The children stared at him, taken aback. Then, "Robin! Wait!" Gregory cried, and leaped after him.

"Fare thee well, elf." Cordelia leaped on her broom and sped off after Puck.

"What! Will ye follow blindly where the Sprite of Mischief leads?" Kelly cried. Then his face firmed, and he reached up to yank his top hat more firmly down onto his head. "Nay, I'll not have it!" And he strode off after the children.

Catching up to them, he cried, "Fear not, children! The leprecohen will not abandon ye to the hard heart of the hobgoblin! I shall accompany ye!"

Puck turned on him, face thunderous. "None have asked it of thee, elf! Now I bid thee—bide!"

"And desert them to the mercies of the Sassenach?" Kelly settled himself, glowering. "Nay!"

"Why, thou nail, thou burr, thou thorn! What use canst thou be? How much more wilt thou swell up their hazard?"

"Hazard?" Kelly fairly screeched. "Why, what could be safer than a child with a leprecohen to guard it?"

"A man with his head in a noose, or a lord with his neck stretched across the headsman's block!" Puck took a deep breath. "Why, what could be less use, or more hazardous company, than a leprechaun who doth allow his crock of gold to be stolen?"

Kelly's head snapped back as though he'd been slapped. Then his face reddened, his head drew down between his shoulders, and he reached up to push his hat over to a rakish angle. "Now ye've said it, now ye have said it! Now must I prove the lie ye have given—and I will, by staying with ye till the death!"

"Thy death, or theirs?" Puck said acidly.

"Yers, if Heaven smiles!" Kelly turned to the children. "Fear not—I'll never abandon ye to the dangers of his company!"

"But there is no danger in his company!" Gregory cried, and Cordelia said, "None could be safer than in the care of the Puck, good elf."

"Puck or not, his protection's uncertain," Kelly maintained. "Nay, I'll accompany ye, if for naught but to ward ye from him!"

Gregory shook his head in confusion. "Wherefore dost thou mistrust him so?"

"Why, because he is English!" Kelly cried, and turned away to the green of the forest.