Warlock - The Warlock Unlocked Part 22

Father Uwell nodded. "I understand there's been quite a loss of game in the area, and several peasants are complain-ing about missing livestock. No other people have 'fallen in,' though. There's a great black horse on patrol there, and he won't let anyone near."

"Fess!" Rod slapped his thigh. "He's still standing there, waiting for us to come out!"

"Trying to figure out how to get you out, I think. At least, that's the only reason he let me past."

Rod frowned. "You don't mean he talked to you."

"No, but I wouldn't have been surprised if he had. I came to your house, and, not finding you home, I set out to the woods nearby, with Puck for a guide. As I went toward the pond, your horse galloped up to block me. I dodged to the side, but he dodged with me. I ducked under his belly, but he sat on me. I tried to vault over him, and he swivelled around so that I jumped off exactly where I'd jumped on. I finally decided I was dealing with an unusual specimen."

Rod nodded. "You should only know how unusual."

"I have some idea; when I struck him, he clanged. So I tried to reason with him.

"He eventually escorted me to the point at which you'd disappeared. I walked ahead-and found myself surrounded by silver leaves! I whirled about, and found myself facing a great white-trunked tree with a big 'X' carved on it. I tried to step back into it, but I thumped roundly against the bark and sat back on my ca.s.sock. I fancy I must have looked rather ridiculous."

"So did I," Rod said grimly. "Don't worry about it, Father. So. The gate's still open, but it only works one-way, eh?"

The priest nodded. "It would require a transmitter on this end, I fancy."

Rod's head snapped up, staring.

Then he hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Of course! What's the matter with me? They just set up a transmitter, and didn't worry about who was going to stumble in here, as long as all of us did!" He shook his head, feeling the anger boil. "Can you believe how callous those futurians are? What do they care if a hundred peasants get torn away from their families, just so long as they get the ones they're after!"

"I take it you have enemies," Father U well said carefully.

"You might say that, yes." Rod smiled sardonically. "Enemies with time machines-so I was thinking of Doc Angus's time machine, which can pa.s.s any amount of material, and which can pull you back out of whenever it lands you. I forgot that the man at the controls has to want to pull you back."

"Which your enemies obviously don't," Father Uwell agreed. "So they gave you a one-way ticket here, you might say."

"You might, yes. So getting home will be something of a problem, won't it? Well, you're welcome to poke around in my subconscious all you want, Father, if that'll help get us out of here-but frankly, I can't offer much hope."

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," the priest said, with a faint smile. "But how were you planning to get home?"

Rod looked at Gwen. "Well, at the moment, our best bet looks to be one Lord Kern, who's got the t.i.tle of High Warlock."

"Your t.i.tle." Father Uwell frowned. "Interesting."

"Isit? But it seems that magic works, here; I'm sure you'll find Lord Kern oodles of fun, if we ever get to him. There are definitely faery folk here, I'll tell you that -we just escaped from a bunch of them. They had some interesting tricks, too."

"Really?" Father Uwell's eyes fairly glowed. "You must tell me about them- when you have time. But as to Lord Kern-how do you plan to persuade him to help you?"

Rod shrugged. "I expect Gwen and I'll have to fight on his side in a little war, first, to earn it-unless he's, grateful enough just for our helping his child-King ward escape to him. Father Uwell, meet His Majesty, King Elidor..."He turned toward the boy-and frowned. "Elidor? Gwen, where did he go?"

"Elidor... ?" Gwen's eyes slowly came back into focus.

"Oh! I'm sorry, dear!" Rod's mouth tightened in self-anger. "I didn't mean to break you off from Gregory. I didn't know you were still in contact." "I was not." Gwen bowed her head, forlorn. "I but sat in reverie, some while after the touch of him faded..." She straightened up, forcing a smile. "I must bear it; surely his touch will come again. What didst thou wish, mine husband?"

"Elidor. Where'd he go?"

"Elidor?" Gwen glanced about quickly. "My heaven, I had forgot! Elidor!

Where..."

"Mama!"

It was small, bald, and wizened, with great luminous eyes and pointed ears. Its

mouth was wide, with loose, rubbery lips, and its nose was long and pointed. It wore a rusty-brown tunic and bias-hosen, with cross-gartered sandals.

Gwen screamed, clasping her hand over her mouth.

Rod's eyes bulged; all he could manage was a hoa.r.s.e, strangled caw.

The noise woke the children. They sat bolt-upright, eyes wide and staring,

darting glances about for the danger.

Then they saw the kobold.

Cordelia screamed, and flew into her mother's arms, burying her head in Gwen's breast and sobbing. Geoffrey darted to her, too, bawling his head off.

But Big Brother Magnus clamped his jaws shut around a neigh of terror, plastered his back against a tree, then drew his sword and advanced slowly, pale and trembling.

Rod snapped out of his horrified daze and leaped to Mag-nus's side, catch4 g his sword-hand. "No, son! Touch him with cold iron, and we'll never see him again!"

"Good," Magnus grated. "I have small liking, to gaze upon such an horror. I beg thee, free my hand, Papa."

"I said no!" Rod barked. "That's not just an average haunt who happened by, son -it's a changeling!"

Magnus's gaze shot up to Rod's, appalled. "A what?"

"A changeling. Theofrin's faeries must've been following us, waiting for their chance-and while you three were asleep, and Gwen was preoccupied with Gregory's thoughts, and I was talking with Father Al..." His lips tightened, again in self-anger. "...no one was watching Elidor; so they kidnapped him, and left this thing in its place." He took a quick glance at his own three, to rea.s.sure himself they were all there. They were, thank Heaven.

"We must not afright it," Gwen said grimly.

"Your wife is right," Father Al murmured, stepping behind a tree. "We must not scare it away, and the sight of me might do just that. I see you know what a changeling is. Do you know that it holds a correspondence to the child who was kidnapped?"

Rod scowled. "You mean you can use it to work a spell that'll recover Elidor?"

Father Uwell nodded. "And it's our only link to him. If it leaves, we'll have no way of regaining him."

"All right." Rod nodded. "I'll bite. How do we use the changeling to get Elidor back?"

"WeH, first you take an egg..." He broke off, frowning. "What's that chiming?"

"Just the breeze in the trees; the leaves rustle strangely here."

The priest shook his head. "No, beyond that-the tinkling. Do you hear it?"

Rod frowned, turning his head. Now that the priest mentioned it, there was a sound of chiming bells. "Yeah, come to think of it. Strange. What do you suppose it is?"

"Given the terrain and what you've told me about the inhabitants, it could be any of several things, none of which would exactly welcome the sight of a priest. I'd recommend you trace the sound to its source. I'll follow, but I'll stay back out of sight."

"Well, it's your field, not mine," Rod said dubiously. "Come on, kids! And stay close to your mother and me." He glanced back at Magnus. "Uh, bring... Elidor?" "Aye, Papa."

Gwen caught Geoff's and Cordelia's hands, and looked back at the changeling. "Come, then!" She shuddered as she turned away from it. Cordelia clung to her, trembling.

They wound though the silver forest, hands clasped, following the tinkling sound. It began to fall into a tune; and, as it became louder, Rod began to hear a thin piping of reeds, like very high-pitched oboes, underneath it, and, lower in pitch, a flute. Then the trees opened out into a little clearing, and Gwen gasped.

Faery lights wavered over the grove, mostly gold, but with occasional flickers of blue and red. Looking more closely, Rod saw that the air was filled with fireflies, so many that their winking lights lent a constant, flickering glow that supplemented the moonlight, showing a ring of delicate, dark-haired women, supple and sinuous, in diaphanous s.h.i.+fts, dancing to the tune played by a three-foot-tall elf with a bagpipe, and another who sat atop a giant mushroom with a set of panpipes. The ladies, too, couldn't have been more than three feet high- but behind them, beaming down fondly, sat a woman of normal size.

Of more than normal size-in fact, of epic proportions. She would've tipped the scales at three hundred pounds, and kept on tipping them. She wore a mile or so of rose-colored gown, the skirts spread out in a great fan in front of her. A high, square-topped headdress of the same cloth exaggerated her height, with folds of veil framing her face. It was a quiet face, and calm, layered in fat but surprisingly little, compared to her body. Her eyes were large and kind, her nose straight, and her mouth a tuck of kindness.

Rod glanced out of the corner of his eye; the changeling was hanging back in the shadows. Then he turned back to the ample beldame, and bowed. "Good evening, Milady. I am Rod Gallowgla.s.s; whom have I the pleasure of addressing?"

"I am called the Lady Milethra, Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Faery," the dame answered with a smile. "Thou art well come among us, Lord Gallowgla.s.s."

Rod hiked his eyebrows; she knew his t.i.tle. He decided not to remark on the subject. "Uh, in my company are my wife, the Lady Gwendylon, and our children -Magnus, Cordelia, and Geoffrey."

Gwen dropped a curtsey, and Cordelia mimicked her. Magnus bowed, and Geoff needed prompting.

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess nodded graciously. "Well come, all. A fine crop of young witch-folk, Lord Gallowgla.s.s-and please inform your clerical acquaintance that his tact in remaining unseen is appreciated."

"'Clerical acquaintance... ?'Oh... Father Uwell. I will, Your Grace. If you'll pardon my saying so, you're remarkably well-informed."

"Prettily said," she answered, with a pleased smile. "Yet 'tis not so remarkable as all that; little escapes mine elves' notice."

The piper grinned up mischievously at Rod, then went on with his piping.

"Ah-do I take it Your Grace, then, knows of our recent loss?"

"Thou speakest of my G.o.dson, Elidor." The Lady folded her hands, nodding.

"Indeed, I do know of it."

A fairy G.o.dmother, yet! And was Rod in for a roasting, or a basting? "Your pardon for our lapse of vigilance, Your Grace."

She waved away the apology with a lacey handkerchief. "There is nought to pardon; with Eorl Theofrin's spriggans out to seize the lad, there was little thou couldst do to protect him. Indeed, I am grateful to thee for saving him from the Each Uisge; mine elves would have been sore tried to vanquish that monster."

Which meant they might've had to sweat. "Uh-I take it Eorl Theofrin is the faery lord who had us in his power not too long ago?"

"The same. Now, as bad fortune hath it, Elidor is within his power again, where I may not run to save him^Since thou hast aided him in this wise once already, may I ask thee to aid him so again?"

"With all heart!" Gwen said quickly.

"Well, yeah, sure," Rod said, more slowly. "But I con-fess to some puzzlement as to why you should wish to employ us in this, Your Grace. Doesn't a Grand d.u.c.h.ess kind of outrank an Eorl?"

"I do, indeed-yet there is the practical matter of force. Eorl Theofrin's forces far outweigh mine-and my rank, of itself, suffices only if there is one of paramount rank to whom to appeal."

"And Oberon's out of the country, at the moment?"

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess's eyebrows rose. "Thou dost know the name of the Faery King? Good, good! Aye, he is afield, in the land of the English, for some time. Some trifling quarrel with t.i.tania.it is, over some tedious Hindu lad...Ever did I mistrust that shrewish and haughty demoiselle... Enough!" She turned back ttr Rod with determination. "There is some hope of welding an alliance 'twixt some other of the Faery Lords; yet few would wish to move against Theofrin, and all dread the illnesses that a war 'twixt the Faery demesnes would work upon the land, ourselves, and the mortals."

"And it would take a while to get them all working together."

"Even so; and the longer Elidor remains under Theofrin's hand, the harder 'twill be to pry him loose. Yet mortals stand removed from our quarrel."

Rod nodded. "We're a third force that can upset the balance, right?"

"Even so. Most mortals' power would be too little to counter a faery's; yet therfi are some spells which, if wielded by a warlock or witch, can own to far more power than any slung by one faery 'gainst another."

Rod frowned. "I don't quite understand that. If mortals are magically so much weaker, how could our spells be so strong?"

"Why," said the Grand d.u.c.h.ess, with a disarming smile, " 'tis because ye have souls, which we lack."

"Oh." Now that Rod thought of it, there was that old tradition about fairies having no souls. He swallowed hard, wondering what shape his own was in.

"Not so bad as all that," the Grand d.u.c.h.ess a.s.sured him.

"Well, that's a relief to hear... Hey! I didn't say that aloud! How'd you know what I was thinking?"

"How not?" The Grand d.u.c.h.ess frowned. "Ah, I see-no other mortals can hear thy thoughts! Rest a.s.sured, 'tis nothing inborn; 'tis only that, deep within thee, thou dost not wish them too."

Gwen was staring at him with joy that was rapidly giving place to suspicion.

Rod swallowed. "But why wouldn't I? Never mind, let's not go into that just now! Uh-I take it the Faery folk have more thought-reading power?"

"Nay; but we have spells we may use, when we wish it-quite powerful ones. Since that thou art somewhat new to this world, I did wish it."

"Oh." Rod felt as though he ought to feel outraged that she hadn't given him official notice at the beginning of the interview; but he was scarcely in a position to bargain. He wanted Elidor back!

"As do I," the Grand d.u.c.h.ess agreed. "Yet I confess I am mystified as to why it should matter to thee; he is no kin of thine."

Good question. Rod spoke the first answer that came to mind. "I seek to return to my own place and time, Your Grace. I think I'm going to need magical help to do it; and getting Elidor to Lord Kern ought to win me a return favor. From you, too, come to that."