Once upon a time, there were three little warlocks and a witch, and they lost their mommy and daddy.

Well, they didn't lose them, really. Their parents went out for the night, and left them with an elf for a babysitter. The elf's name was Puck (it was really Robin Goodfellow, but most people preferred his nickname), and he was very mischievous. He was so mischievous that the children made sure they did whatever he told them to, even though they could all work magic of their own. They even went to bed on time.

But they didn't go to sleep. The boys lay awake talking to each other in whispers, and the girl came in to join them—she had a bedroom of her own, but it wasn't nearly as much fun as her brothers'. There weren't any other children in it.

"They should have been home ere now, " Magnus whispered. He was the eldest—twelve years old.

"Nay, surely 'tis not so late, " Cordelia protested. She was nine—nearly as old as Magnus, as she reminded him at least twice a day.

"'TIS late enow. " Geoffrey was gazing out the window at the stars. "The Plow is over Cuchullain's Hill. " He was only seven, but that was old enough to realize that the whole sky seems to turn like a great wheel during the night, and to remember where the star-pictures called "constellations" have moved to, every hour.

Cordelia frowned. "Where could they have gone?"

Magnus shrugged. "Mayhap a band of trolls leaped upon them from hiding. "

"Poor trolls, " Geoffrey sighed.

"Thou dost but regret that thou. wast not with them, " Cordelia accused.

"In some part, " Geoffrey admitted. "Yet thou must needs own that any band of trolls would come off much the worst,

were they to go up against our parents. "

Their mother, Gwendylon Gallowglass, was a witch, though a very pretty one; and their father, Rod Gallowglass, was a warlock, which is what you call a man who has powers like a witch's.

"Mayhap the King and Queen have summoned them, " Gregory pointed out.

He was the youngest, only five, but he already knew that the King and Queen of their country sometimes called on the children's parents to help them, when theirkingdomofGramarye was in trouble.

"Aye!" Cordelia sat bolt-upright, her eyes gleaming. "Mayhap the Abbot and his monks have called up the barons 'gainst the King and Queen again!"

"Or an evil sorcerer may once more have risen 'gainst them. " Gregory's eyes lit.

"Or mayhap an army of monsters hath come out of the forests!" Geoffrey grinned. He liked armies. Monsters, too.

"Or mayhap ghosts have come haunting the castle, " Magnus cried.

"Or mayhap, " rumbled a deep voice from the doorway, "the witch and the warlock are so pleased by themselves, with no children to pester them, that they have stayed longer man they had planned, amidst the flowers and the cool forest air

— and mayhap four naughty children have kept themselves waking when they should have fallen asleep!"

The boys dived under their covers, and Cordelia dived under Magnus's bed.

Their foot-and-a-half babysitter strode into the room. "Shame upon thee, then! Can thy parents not enjoy a single evening to themselves, but thou must needs bedevil them with thy guessing, even though they be not here?"

"We were not thinkingat them, Puck, " Geoffrey protested. All four of the children were mind-readers, who could also put their own thoughts into other people's minds.

"Nay, " said Puck, "but thou wast biding in wakefulness, belike to spring out upon them when they did return. "

"We would do no such thing, " Magnus said indignantly. After all, he'd only been toying with the idea.

"Be certain thou wilt not, " Puck assured him. "Now lie still and close thine eyes—and thy mouths also! Or I shall close them for thee!"

The boys instantly squeezed their eyes shut. They remembered the last time Geoffrey had talked back to Puck. It had

taken Mama an hour to figure out how to get the padlock off his tips.

"And thou, damsel! To thy chamber!" Puck stabbed his finger toward the doorway.

The room was silent for a moment; then Cordelia rolled out from under Magnus's bed and sprang to her feet. "Thou spoilsport, Robin!" And she flounced out of the room.

Puck gazed after her as though he were considering how she'd look with goggle eyes and webbed feet; but he must have decided against it, for he turned back to rumble, "Sleep! Or the hobgoblin will catch thee!"

"What, " said Magnus, "is the hobgoblin?"

"I am, " Puck snapped. "Now sleep!" And he slammed the door.

The boys were still as mice for three minutes.

Then Geoffrey whispered, "Dost thou think he might truly… "

The door crashed open, and Puck boomed, "Sleep!"

They slept.

When they came down to breakfast the next morning, they found a very worried-looking Puck sitting by the hearth, knuckling his chin. They gathered around him, wide-eyed and silent. Finally, Magnus asked, "Have they not come home, then?"

Puck dismissed the notion with a gesture. "'Tis naught. Belike they'll step in the door ere the sun's up. "

Gregory darted a quick glance at the window. "'Tis risen, Puck—and thou knowest not where they be. "

"Not know!?!!" Puck sat up straight, glaring in indignation. "Whence cometh such a thought?"

Gregory shook his head. "An thou didst know, thy face would not show such concern. "

"Thou seest too quickly for my liking. "

"Or mine, " Gregory agreed, "for if thou knowest not where they be, they are gone. "

"What?"

"Nay!"

"What sayest thou!" his brothers and sister cried.

But Gregory only shook his head. "If the Wee Folk know not where our parents be, they be not within thisLandofGramarye . "

"Why, how dost thou riddle that?" Puck studied the boy's face.

Gregory shrugged. " 'tis plainly seen—for what one of the Wee Folk know, all will know presently. And naught doth happen that they know not of, for there are pixies, elves, and fairies throughout the length and breadth of this kingdom, so that there lies not a square yard of ground in all our Isle of Gramarye that the Wee Folk see not. Thus if thou dost not know where our parents be, they be not in this land. "

"But they cannot be gone!" Cordelia cried. "How should we manage without them?"

"How should the kingdom manage?" Puck breamed, for Gramarye had many enemies that only the High Warlock and his wife kept at bay.

"And how—how canst thou say it?" Geoffrey threw up his hands in exasperation. "How canst thou stand there with so bland a face, cheerfully consigning thy mother and father to who knows what fate?"

"Nay!" Big brother Magnus instantly clapped an arm around Gregory and pressed him against his side. "Be not so cruel to thine own brother! Belike he's as frighted as thou… "

"I am never frighted!"

"Alarmed, then, " Magnus said between his teeth. "As alarmed as thou, yet brave enough not to show it. "

"Yet I am not alarmed, neither. " Gregory looked up at his brother. "Nor am I frighted—for they have been gone aforetime, have they not? And ever they've returned. "

They all stilled, staring at him. Then Magnus said carefully, "Thou dost remember that?"

"Thou wast but a babe!" Cordelia burst out. "Aged scarce half a year! Nay, hardly do I recall that, myself!"

"Nor doI. " Gregory shook his head, wide-eyed. "I have only some odd feeling that 'tis so. "

"A memory, but one that lies so deeply he doth ken it not, " Puck explained.

"Yet 'tis so, lad—thy parents did vanish, and thy brothers and sister with them. "

What he did not say was that it had been baby Gregory who had anchored his family to Gramarye. They had been whisked away to another world, a land of magic, and had only been able to return because Gregory's infant mind, longing for his mother, had reached out through the emptiness between the worlds to pull them back—with a power amazing in any person, let alone a baby.

"They did vanish, and they did return. " Gregory smiled.

He didn't smile often. His brothers and sister found themselves smiling too, even though they were nowhere nearly as certain as he was. In fact, when they stopped to think about it, a feeling of dread began to seep through them.

Geoffrey couldn't allow that. "Out upon them!" he cried. "Seek and find!"

Magnus and Cordelia cheered, and dashed for the door.

"Now I cry HOLD!" Puck roared.

They froze, with Magnus's hand on the latch. "But Puck —an our parents be strayed, 'tis our duty to seek them!"

"'Tis thy duty to do as they have bade thee!" The elf seemed to flicker like a candle flame, and was suddenly standing with his back against the door, fists on his hips, glaring at them. "They have charged thee to stay, and obey my commands—so stay thou shalt, and stay I shall, until their return!"

Storm clouds began to gather in the boys' faces.

Cordelia tried reason. "They did not know they would vanish, Puck.

Assuredly, then, they would have wished us to seek them. "

"Assuredly, if their enemies have become strong enough to capture them, they would wish thee safe at home! And safe thou shalt be, guarded by legions of elves!"

"Legions?" Gregory stared, wide-eyed.

Then he dashed to the window, to peer out. Geoffrey was right behind him—

"legions" meant an army. Cordelia and Magnus wavered, then ran for the window too.

They stared out at an empty garden and a meadow beyond it, with the forest rising up at its far edge.

"There's naught there!" Geoffrey cried in disappointment.

"Nay, there is, " Puck assured them. "Thou mayest not see them, but there's not a foot of that meadow or garden that hath not its elf with his sling, or a fairy with her dart.Thou couldst wander all day, and see never a one of them—but let a stranger approach, and he'll stumble and fall, never to rise again. "

Magnus turned slowly, his face set and expressionless. "Are they to keep us penned within, also?"

Puck answered with a sour smile. "Credit me with some sense, warlock-ling!

I know thy sister can fly away on her broomstick, and that any of thou lads can fly without one—or disappear, and reappear miles away. Nay, I'd not seek to pen thee here by force. "

"Yet thou wilt seek to hold us, " Cordelia said quietly.

Puck nodded. "I will hold thee by thy love of thy parents —for look you, what was their last command to thee?"

The children were silent, scowling at the floor and scuffing their toes.

"What did they say?" Puck demanded.

"That we should stay, " Cordelia admitted, as though the words were dragged out of her, "and obey thee. "

And they did obey him, all that day. Two wizened little women, scarcely a foot high, popped up to make breakfast, and two more to make dinner. It took three to make supper, though.

And all the while, the children did their best to find things to do. They tried a game of hide and seek, but their hearts just weren't in it; Magnus just barely managed to make himself look like a little apple tree, and Gregory did so poor a job of casting his glamour that Cordelia lifted her head, saw the large toadstool next to her, and scowled. "Thou art not to hide 'round my base, Gregory! 'Tis thou must be 'it'

now!"

Freeze-tag was worse; they couldn't summon up the energy to freeze a beetle.

And when they tried to play catch, Magnus's and Cordelia's minds kept wandering, so the ball would fall to the ground in the middle of a throw.

Finally, in desperation, Puck sat them down and gave them lessons. This was bad enough while they were angry and grumbling; but it became worse when they became puzzled.

"But, Robin—Papa says there are ninety-two elements that endure, " Cordelia said.

Gregory nodded. "And some of those are so rare, they are never seen. "

"Thy father!" Puck wrinkled his nose in disgust. "He, with his outlandish notions of what is real and what dreamlike! Children, reach about thee, and feel what is there! Canst thou see this 'uranium' that he speaketh of, or mis 'aluminum'? Nay!

But thou canst feel the earth 'neath thy fingers, and the air blown against thy cheek as a wind! I tell thee, there be but four elements, as there have ever been—earth, water, air, and fire!"

"Yet what is rock, then?"

"Only earth, packed tightly. "

"And what's a tree?"

"Why, a thing compounded out of earth and water!"

"And iron?"

Puck shuddered; iron was poison to elves. "Let us speak rather of copper.

Where dost thou find it? Why, where rocks are put into fire! What should it be, then, but a thing made up of earth and fire?"

And so it went. Puck had very definite views about everything in nature, and the children began to become interested, in spite of themselves.

"Now, there do be three trees only that do signify, " Puck lectured, "Oak, Ash, and Thorn. "

Gregory frowned. "What of the pine?"

"Fit only to be brought within doors, for the Yuletide. "

"What of the holly and the ivy?"

"The one's a bush, the other a vine. I speak of trees!"

"What of the briar, and the rose?"

What could Puck do then but sigh, and tell them all the tale, the sad, winding story of Fair Margaret and Sweet William, of their meeting and courtship, of his leaving her to wed another woman, and Sweet Margaret's death, and Sweet William's, and the briar and the rose sprouting from their graves, to climb to the top of the church steeple and twine in a true lover's knot.

Cordelia sat enthralled throughout it, but the boys did begin to seem a little restless; so of course, for them, Puck had to tell the tale of the child Merlin, and his capture by the evil King Vortigem, of the tower that would not stand and the two dragons that slept under it. From there, one tale led to another, of course—of the boy Arthur, and his growing to become a king who brought peace and plenty to a strife-torn England; of Lancelot, his bravest knight, and his saving of the sweet Elaine; of their son Galahad, and his quest for the Holy Grail; and of Arthur's nephew Gawain, and the Green Knight.

"And what of his brothers?" Geoffrey demanded. "What of Agravaine, and Gareth and Gaheris?"

"Ah, but if thou hast heard of them aforetime, " Puck sighed, "wherefore shouldst thou need to hear of them again?"

"Because the tale is always filled with wonder and magic!" "But most so whenthou dost tell it, Robin. " Cordelia already knew the virtues of a compliment.

So did Puck, but he puffed out his chest and grinned any-way. "Ah, but I've had such practice at the telling of them— hundreds of years! Yet the hour groweth late, and I think I smell a supper cooking. "

Four little heads snapped up; four small noses sniffed the evening air. Then four voices yelped, and the boys disappeared in miniature thunderclaps. Cordelia leaped on her broomstick, and sped like an arrow toward the front door, crying, " 'Tis not fair! Thou must not commence without me!" Puck heaved a long, shaky sigh. "Eh! I've kept them busy for this one day, at least. Yet how shall I manage for themorrow ?"

But the next day took care of itself; for Cordelia awoke before the sun was up, and sprang to her window to look for her parents—and, by the cool, moist gray light that comes before dawn, she saw, in their garden, a unicorn.

She was tall and slender, milk-white, with a golden mane and a gilded horn; and as a cry of delight welled up within Cordelia, the unicorn lifted her head and looked right into Cordelia's eyes. The girl froze in wonder.

Then the unicorn turned away, lowering her head to graze among Mama's flowers, and Cordelia rushed to pull on a dress, hose, and slippers, and ran out into the garden, still lacing her bodice.

She skidded to a halt, realizing again that she might scare the unicorn away; but she had nothing to fear. The unicorn stood quietly, watching her, chewing on a mouthful of sweet clover, and Cordelia caught her breath, enchanted by its beauty.

Then the unicorn lowered her head to the clover, and Cordelia felt saddened, because she could no longer see the great, lovely eyes. She plumped down in the grass, sitting on her heels, and pulled a patch of sweet dill from the herb-bed. She held it out in her open palm, calling softly, "Come. Oh, come, I beg thee, most beauteous one—for I long to stroke thy velvet cheek, and caress thy silken mane!"

The unicorn turned, lifting her head, and looked right into Cordelia's eyes again. The girl watched, scarcely daring to breathe, as the unicorn came toward her slowly, one delicate step at a time, until she stood right in front of Cordelia, and slowly lowered her muzzle to accept the dill. A thrill shot through Cordelia as the unicorn's soft, gentle nose tickled her palm, and she hurried to pull some more dill with her left hand. The unicorn took that, too, staring into Cordelia's eyes. Greatly daring, she reached out slowly to rest her hand upon the muzzle. The unicorn moved her head, letting Cordelia's hand rub against her cheek, and the girl stroked the velvet smoothness, breathing in delight, "Oh! Thou art so beautiful!"

The unicorn bowed her head, accepting the tribute and pawing the turf.

Cordelia reached out her other hand to touch the golden mane.

The unicorn's head snapped up, and Cordelia snatched her hand back, afraid she had offended. Then she saw that the unicorn wasn't moving away, but was staring toward the house. Following the direction of her gaze, she saw her brothers, standing together just outside the back door, wide-eyed in wonder.

Cordelia couldn't speak aloud, for fear of frightening the unicorn; so she pressed her lips tight in anger and thought at her brothers,Thou great oafs! Begone, ere thou dost scare her away !

She doth not seem afrighted, Magnus thought back at Cordelia,nor ought she; we come only to watch .

But Geoffrey's thought came right after:Ah! How fine a thing 'twould be, to ride so fine a mount ! And he stepped forward, raising a hand.

NAY! Cordelia's thought fairly shrieked.Thou wilt afright her !

And, true enough, the unicorn moved back a pace. Geoffrey froze.

A frown puckered little Gregory's brow.Was it truly Geoffrey caused her to move? Let me see . And he took a step.

Thou little lummox! Cordelia fumed.Wilt thou leave her to me !

The unicorn moved another step away.

Why, she is not thine! Geoffrey thought, in indignation.Thou canst not bid us not to touch her !

Yetthe unicorncan . Magnus pressed a hand against Geoffrey's chest to hold him back.Cordelia's right in this —we do afright the beast.

But Gregory shook his head, and whispered aloud, "She is not frighted. "

The unicorn's gaze riveted on the youngest.

"See. " Gregory spoke a little louder. "She doth hear me, yet doth not flee. "

"Then she will let us come nigh her!" Geoffrey took another step.

Nay! Cordelia thought furiously; and sure enough, the unicorn stepped away again.

Magnus pushed Geoffrey back, and the younger boy

scowled, sulking. "I thought Gregory did say she did not fear us. "

"Nor doth she. " The youngest still sat on his heels in the grass, gazing at the unicorn. "Still, she will abide us no closer than we are now. "

"Yet she did come nigh Cordelia!"

Gregory nodded. "And will again, I doubt not. Attempt it, sister. "

Cordelia stared at him as though he were crazy. Then she frowned, musing, and turned back to the unicorn. Slowly, she stepped toward it.

The unicorn stood still, as though it were waiting.

Thrilled, Cordelia took another step, then another and another.

Still the unicorn waited, unmoving.

Finally, Cordelia's outstretched hand touched the unicorn's neck, and she stepped close, reaching up to stroke. "Oh, thou hast let me come nigh thee!"

"'Tis not…" Geoffrey started to yell; but Magnus clamped a hand over his mouth—with the palm cupped, so his brother couldn't bite it. Geoffrey glared at him, thinking furiously, 'Tis not fair! Wherefore ought it to allowherto approach, and not us ?

"'Tis the way of unicorns," Gregory answered. "I mind me, for I read it in a book of a time."

Geoffrey glared at him. Gregory had been reading for two years now, and it drove Geoffrey crazy.

"They will allow maids to approach," Gregory explained, "yet not lads."

Geoffrey turned away, fuming.

The unicorn lay down, tucking his legs beneath her body.

Cordelia stared in surprise. Then a radiant smile spread over her face and, very carefully, she leaned forward, resting her weight on the unicorn's back.

"Now 'tisthou who wilt afright her!" Geoffrey hissed; but Cordelia turned slowly till she was sitting sideways on the unicorn.

Magnus stiffened. "Cordelia! I prithee, come away! For of a sudden, I do sense danger!"

"Pooh!" she scoffed. "Thou art but jealous!"

"Nay!" Magnus protested. " 'Tis more than that! I…"

So smoothly that she seemed to float, the unicorn stood up again. Cordelia gasped with joy.

"Cordelia, thou art but mean!" Geoffrey cried in outrage. "Thou art selfish, aye, and spiteful!"

"'Tis the unicorn's choice, not mine," she returned. "Am I to blame if she doth find thee vile?"

"Cordelia, I prithee!" Magnus insisted, really alarmed. "Where might she take thee?"

"Why, wheresoe'er she will," Cordelia answered; and sure enough, the unicorn turned away toward the forest.

The shouting brought Puck out, rubbing sleep from his eyes and scowling.

"What coil is this?"

"A monster doth abduct our sister!" Magnus cried.

The unicorn trotted away.

Puck stared after it. "A monster? Where?"

"There!" Geoffrey shouted, and he ran after the unicorn. "Thou one-horned thief! Come back with my sister!"

"Nay, Geoffrey! Fly!" Magnus leaped into the air.

Geoffrey looked up at him, startled. Then he grinned, and leaped ten feet up.

"What ails me, brother? I had forgot!"

Gregory sped toward his two brothers like a stone from a slingshot.

Together, they darted after the unicorn.

With a crack like a gunshot, Puck appeared right in front of mem, hovering in midair. "Halt, younglings! Where dostthou think to go?"

"Why, after the beast who doth bear off our sister!" Magnus said. "Do not seek to bar us, Robin! She's endangered!"

"Endangered! Nay, speak sense! Ne'er hath a unicorn offered harm to a maiden!"

"If 'tis not from the beast itself, 'tis from something it doth bear her to! I tell thee, Puck, I feel dread in every bone!"

Puck hesitated. He had some idea of Magnus's powers, but nothing definite; not even the boy's own parents knew the limits of his abilities. He could do things that no Gramarye warlock had ever been able to do—nor any witch either, for that matter. Why might he not also be able to see the future? Puck was sure the boy's father had one of his nonsensical words for the power—as though the talent would not be there if there were no word for it!

But whatever danger there was, Puck was quite sure he could handle it—

unless it were something that needed a score of elves. And if it did, why, he had the score at hand. He weighed that chance of manageable danger against the exasperation of trying to keep four young magic-workers occupied for another day, and decided that the danger was definitely the lesser risk.

"Well enough, then, thou mayest pursue. For if there's any slightest danger…"

But he was talking to empty air. While he had hesitated, the three young warlocks had disappeared with a thunderclap.

"Owls and batwings!" Puck cried in exasperation, and darted off after the unicorn.

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

…"

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

The unicornwas 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 neversaid 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 isVidor !" 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 forever 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."

"Noharm !" 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 hastwhat ?" 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." Andhow 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! Thoucurmudgeon !" 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 outwardwithout 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."

"Thatthou canst, I am sure," Cordelia snorted. "Yet could anybut 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."

"Haveyou 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."

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 hastthou 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. "YetErin '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 theHoly Land in bygone ages."

"FromJudea ?" 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 anUlster 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 theFaeryKingdom 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 thereis 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 fromhim !"

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.

Chapter 4

"Yon, children." Puck pointed to the right-hand path, where the trail forked.

"Nay! 'Tis fraught with peril!" Kelly jabbed a finger at the left-hand path.

"Yonis where ye should wend!"

Puck rounded on the leprecohen. "'Ware, elf! Constrain me not to flatten thee!"

"And what would ye be doing then?" Kelly said, glaring up at the bigger elf.

"Smite me? Starve me? Banish me beyond the Pale? 'Twas ever the way of the tyrant!"

'Tyrant or not, thou'lt wear webbed feet and hop, an thou dost defy me more!"

"Puck," Cordelia pleaded, "do not…"

"Nay, lass! The elf is not welcome—yet an he will not help, he must not hinder!"

"Do yer worst!" Kelly cried. " 'Twas ever the way of your kind!"

Puck's eyes narrowed, and a fly buzzed by. Kelly's head snapped up, staring; then his hand shot out to snatch the insect out of the air. Witt a glad cry, he popped it toward his mouth —then froze, staring at his closed fist in horror. Slowly, he looked up at Puck.

The Puck grinned wickedly.

Kelly gulped, and plucked up his courage to glare again in defiance—but it wasn't convincing.

"Dost thou have a sudden hunger for flies, then?" Puck crooned. "Nay, fear not—the rest of thy body will change then, to fit it. Do thy shoes pinch? 'Tis naught of concern— only thy feet, spreading into frog's paddles."

With a howl, Kelly threw the fly from him, spreading his fingers and staring at his hand as though to reassure himself it wasn't growing webbing.

"Puck, thou must not!" Cordelia cried.

"Wouldst thou be a bully then?" Geoffrey demanded.

"Aye, assuredly he would," Kelly muttered. " 'Twas ever his way."

Puck's eyes narrowed.

Fess lowered his head to Kelly's level. "I would counsel caution as the better part of valor. Remember that the Puck delights in mischief."

Kelly nearly jumped out of his skin. He leaped about, staring up at the great black horse. "Begorra! Is it a talking horse, then?"

"A pouka." Puck eyed Fess askance. "A spirit horse— though 'tis a spirit of a different sort. It is made of cold iron, elf."

"Nay, surely it cannot be!" Kelly stared up at Fess, paling. "Poor, wee tykes!

What greater peril could four children be in?"

"Why, he is our friend!" Gregory shot upward to wrap his arms around Fess's neck. "Our father's closest, and ours!".

Kelly didn't answer; he only cast an apprehensive glance at Puck.

The bigger elf smiled, with malice. "And wouldst thou worry about my poor self, then?"

"Nay, surely not!" Kelly drew himself up, color returning. "With so fell a beast by? And having wormed its way into their affections? Lead onward, elf! 'Tis the two of us must shield them, now!"

Puck grinned, and sauntered away down the right-hand path.

The path widened out into a little clearing, dappled with sunlight in shifting patterns as the shadows of the leaves moved gently in the breeze. The floor of the clearing was strewn with fallen leaves and underbrush, and three stumps, where woodcutters had felled oak trees.

An old woman poked about in the underbrush, muttering to herself. She wore a shabby brown dress and a shawl, with a gray kerchief tied around her head.

The unicorn came to a halt. Magnus hopped down off Fess's back and stepped forward. "What have we here, Robin?"

"A hermit matron, belike," the elf answered.

"I doubt not 'tis a poor beldame who found her friends had died, and none still living in her village gave her welcome," Kelly said. "Thus came she here, to live alone. There are many such."

The old woman looked up at the sound of voices, frowning. "Who comes?"

Magnus waited for Puck to answer, but he didn't hear a word.

"'Tis four bairns!" the crone snapped. "What dost thou here? Begone, now!

Shoo!"

Magnus looked down at Puck for advice, but the elf was gone. He looked around, surprised, to find that Kelly had disappeared, too.

Cordelia leaned over to murmur in Magnus's ear, "They do not wish grown-ups to see them."

"Wilt thou not mind thine elders?" the old woman cried. "Begone, I say!" She snatched up a stick and threw it at them.

The unicorn shied, but Magnus reached out and caught the stick, frowning.

"We've done naught that ye should scold us so." Then he remembered his manners.

"Good day, good-wife."

" 'Goodwife,' is it?" the old woman spat. "Nay, never was I wife, nor would be! How is it even bairns do think a woman must needs marry? Nay, not old Phagia!

I had no need of men—nor of any person! And of children least of all! Begone, I say!"

"If I've offended, I regret," Magnus said.

"Do not say so," Geoffrey snapped. "Ye've done naught to give offense!"

"Aye." Cordelia said, puzzled. "Wherefore should she hate us so, at first sight?"

"Dost'a not hear me?" the old woman screeched. "Go!" And she began to wade through the underbrush toward them, catching up sticks to throw.

Without even thinking, Cordelia stared at a stick. It leaped up into the air and flew away.

Phagia watched it go, eyes widening. But they narrowed as she looked down at the children. "So 'tis witch-brats come upon me, eh? Well, I've tricks of my own at hand!"

Suddenly, sticks burst from the floor of the clearing all around the children and shot toward them.

"Catch!" Magnus cried, and the sticks sailed on up over the treetops as all four children thought at them at the same time.

Phagia turned ashen. "What manner of warlock-lings are these, that do catch things with their thoughts? Only witches may do so!"

"Nevertheless, that power's ours, come to us from our father," Magnus explained.

"And wilt thou, then, bedevil a poor old woman with this power of thy sire's?" Phagia spat. "Nay, then! Contend with this!"

Nuts suddenly rained down on them, as though a thousand manic squirrels had jumped in for target practice.

"Ouch! Oh!" Cordelia wrapped her arms around her head and ducked. Her brothers howled with dismay; the nuts hithard .

"We must meet this all as one!" Magnus cried. 'Together, now!Up !"

The other children squeezed their eyes shut and joined their thoughts to his, and the rain of nuts backed upward, away, leaving a dome of clear air about them, as though the small missiles were bouncing off a huge, invisible umbrella.

"Wilt thou then band against me?" Phagia snarled. "Nay, I must teach thee manners! Avaunt!"

Flames leaped up about the children, roaring toward them, leaving a wake of char behind.

"Be mindful!" Magnus shouted. "Fire's but the heat of molecules in motion!

Slow them, still them! Make them cool!"

All four children stared at the flames, thinking tranquil thoughts, slowing movement, spreading it over a much wider area, transferring energy throughout the floor of the clearing. The day seemed to grow a little warmer, but the fire died.

Phagia stared at the smouldering char, appalled.

Magnus heard Geoffrey's thoughts:Brother, leave her or subdue her. An we do neither, she shall attack again .

Magnus nodded.We might then injure her as we fought back —and Mama and Papa would be angered.

Nor should we leave her free to follow, Geoffrey added.

Magnus agreed. "Let us do what we must."

Phagia's head snapped up, fear suddenly contorting her features. She lifted a clawlike hand—but Cordelia stared at the crone's feet, and they shot out from under her, whipping up level with her shoulders. She screeched; then her face hardened with determination and her feet slowly moved downward.

Cordelia bit her lip, face tightening with strain, and the witch's feet moved upward again. She howled with rage, and they steadied.

Magnus glanced at a vine that had wrapped itself up high, around a tree. It uncoiled, whirling backwards around and around the trunk, then groping out toward Phagia. Geoffrey frowned at it, and the vine broke off near its root, then whipped about the witch five times, pinning her arms to her sides. Phagia shrieked with horror, then clamped her jaw shut and heaved at the vine with all the strength of an adult mind. Sweat beaded Geoffrey's forehead as he fought to keep the vine in place

—but as he did, Gregory reached out with mental fingers to whip the ends into a square knot. Phagia screeched, but Geoffrey relaxed with a smile. "Well done, tadpole."

" 'Tis well thou didst teach me that knot last Friday," lisped little brother.

"A pox upon thee!" old Phagia raved. "Thou knaves, thou curmudgeons!

Hast thou naught else to do, but thou must needs torment a poor old beldame?"

"We did naught to trouble thee," Geoffrey contradicted.

"Nor would we have, hadst thou not turned upon us." Cordelia spoke more gently, trying to balance Geoffrey's contrariness.

"Turned upon thee! Eh! Innocent children, thou knowest not what those words do mean! Turn upon thee! Nay! But wait till thou hast had all the folk of a village come to chase thee, hounding thee from out thine home to harry thee throughout the countryside! Wait till they have caught thee, and bound thee to a ducking-stool, to sink thee in deep water, deprive thee of thy breath! Wait till thou dost feel thy lungs clamoring for air, till thou canst no longer bear it and must breathe, yet know thou'lt suck water in if thou dost—then they hale thee up into the air, at the last second, screaming, 'Vile witch, confess!' And thou dost not, for whosoe'er it was that did the wrong they've found, it was not thou! Yet they will blame thee, aye! Doth a cow's udder run dry? 'Twas thou who caused it! Did a sheep then sicken? 'Twas thou who cursed it! Did a child fall from out a hayloft?

'Twas thou who tripped him! It must be thou, it needs be thou—for naught but thou art a witch!"

"But we have not, we shall not!" Cordelia cried, pale and trembling. "We never would!"

'Tell that to these gentle souls who have lashed thee to the ducking-stool, and now plunge thee deep again! And if thou dost hold fast, and never dost confess to deeds thou hast not

done, they'll take thee off to torture thee, with fire and steel, till the pain, the agony, and the sight of thine own blood do so afright thee that thou dost cry at last, '

'Twas I! 'Twas naught but I! Say what thou wilt have me say, and I will speak it!

Only leave off thy hurting of me!"

Ashen-faced, Cordelia had clapped her hands over Gregory's ears, but he waved her away impatiently. "I'll but hear her thoughts as she doth speak them!" He looked up at Magnus "Can it truly be as she doth say?"

His brother nodded, face set and grim. "Mama and Papa have told us that the witches are ill-treated. Yet they've only hinted at such horrors!"

"Thy bold bluff peasants will do more than hint," Phagia assured him. "At the last, they'll lash thy torn and bleeding carcass to a stake, and pile fagots about thy feet, bundles of sticks as high as thy legs, and thrust a torch within them! Then wilt thou truly scream, as flames mount up to sear thee!" And she turned away, sobbing.

Cordelia faced her brothers, trembling with emotion. "Small wonder that Papa and Mama are so angered with folk who speak against witches!"

Magnus nodded, his face set like rock.

Gregory stepped forward shyly, and knelt by Phagia. "Is this why thou didst seek to chase us? Because thou didst fear we would summon folk to hurt thee?"

Phagia's head turned about, eyes staring at him. "Nay, little lad! Poor little lad!

'Tis from another cause—the one that made me hide myself away, where none would find me!"

Gregory frowned. "What cause is that?"

"Not the hurt that they did me," Phagia explained, "or that I did them; but hurt that was done to them because of me."

Gregory shook his head, not understanding.

"Done because of thee?" Magnus came up. "Who did it, then?"

"Lontar." She shuddered at the sound of the name. "Even in his youth, he had determined to work evil in every way he could. He courted me; 'Why should not two witch-folk wed?' quoth he. 'How much stronger will their wizardly get be!' Yet I knew him for what he was; his evilness fairly oozed from him; he reeked of it. 'No,' I said, and 'No,' again, and yet again; but he would not heed, till at last he sought to pursue me through my cottage door, and I slammed it into his face. He fell down, stunned, whiles I bolted the door and collapsed

against it, shaking. When he came to his senses, he could but rave—for warlocks cannot make locks move of themselves, praise Heaven!"

Gregory shared a quick glance with his two older brothers.

"What might he do then, but rail about my door? Yet that he did—and most puissantly. He laid a curse upon me, that anyone I might befriend would die, and in a fashion most horrible. I did credit him not; but within a fortnight, everyone I'd counted as a friend lay dead, and in a manner most repulsive. They lay… No!" She squeezed her eyes shut, clamping down on the thought before it could form fully in her mind. "I shall not speak of it to children!"

But enough of it came through to make the children glad she'd buried it—a brief, disgusting mental image of limbs, separate and partly flayed, bare bones sticking out. Even Geoffrey shuddered, and Cordelia gave a little cry before she pressed her hands against her mouth. Gregory let out one bleat of fright and dove into Cordelia's skirts. She hugged him, staring at the witch, who lay sobbing, struggling within herself. They could see her back and shoulders stiffen. "Nay! I will not! Children, thou hast mis-served me quite, stirring that foul memory up from the depths of my mind, where I had buried it!"

"We are most truly sorry," Cordelia murmured, and exchanged glances with her brothers. They pooled thoughts quickly, in a way that Mama had taught them; it kept anyone from outside the family from hearing them.

She could not be truly wicked.

Nay, not if she doth seek to hide this sight of horror from our minds.

In truth, she could not.

Aloud, Cordelia said, "Is that why thou didst seek to send us from thee?"

. Phagia nodded. "And 'tis why I came here to the forest. For seest thou, children, when I saw folk who'd been my friends from childhood lying dead in so repulsive a manner, I turned away, and resolved that never would I have a friend again. Deep into the forest I fled, and in its gloom I built mine hut—and oh, children, I assure thee, 'twas hard, so hard! I was a lass in the first bloom of womanhood, when folk most dearly need others, and I ached for company, and for young men's arms! Yet I did not weaken in my resolve; I stayed within my thicket—and oft did I bethink to seek mine end!"

"To slay thyself?" Cordelia gasped.

"Even so." Phagia nodded. "Yet I withstood temptation, and did live. Thus have I done for fifty years; here still I dwell, and my food is roots and berries, wild thyme, wild greens, and what little else that I may hunt or gather. Ever and anon comes one who would befriend me; yet have I spurned them, even as I sought to drive thee from me."

"Fear not," Magnus assured her, "we will be thy friends, aye, but only for some hours few. What harm could come to us in time so brief?"

"An we unbind thee," Cordelia asked, "wilt thou undertake not to harm us?"

Phagia swallowed her sobs and nodded.

Gregory stared at the knot of vine. Slowly, it untied itself.

Staring at it, Phagia sat up slowly.

The vine rose up, swaying, unwinding from about her.

"I thank thee," she breathed. "Yet heed the voice of wisdom, children. Flee!

Get thee hence from me!"

"We shall bide only a short while," Magnus assured her.

"Fear not; we now are warned." Geoffrey grinned. "Let any dare seek to harm us!"

Phagia smiled in spite of her dread. "Four such doughty children must needs be proof against such evil." She shook her head in amazement. "Yet be mindful, thou art but bairns. How wilt thou fare against the power of a wizard grown?"

The children exchanged another glance. It wasn't necessary to remind each other not to tell her about the Witch of the Red Hill, or about the old sorcerer under the mountain. They all knew better than to let any grown-up learn about them. They'd never believe the children anyway—and if Mama and Papa ever found out, they'd be very upset.

"I think we may withstand such threats," Magnus said carefully.

"Nay, better." Geoffrey grinned like a wolf cub. "An we discover that foul wizard, let him guard himself!"

"Thou hast too much pride," Phagia chided. She stood up slowly, painfully, and brushed the dead leaves off her skirt. "Eh! But my bones ache with age!… Be not too unafraid, children. Beware—thou art but bairns."

"And we are hungry." Gregory tugged at her skirt. "Canst spare us morsels?"

Phagia looked down at him, and her face softened.

Then, with a wordless cry, she threw her arms wide. "What matter? Mayhap 'tis even as thou dost say—mayhap thou art proof against the horror! Nay, let me for an hour or two enjoy thy company! Come, children—let's find food!'"

The children raised a cheer and followed her off through the woods as she hobbled away toward her hut.

But in the shadow of the leaves behind a root, two small figures exchanged glances, and shook their heads.

"She is truly a nice old dame." Gregory snuggled down under the blanket and closed his eyes.

"Ouch! Haul thine elbow from out my ribs!" Geoffrey snapped.

"I did not mean to." Gregory inched away from him.

"Then tell him thou art sorry," Magnus commanded from his other side.

"Sorry," Gregory sniffed.

The room was silent.

"Geoffrey…" Magnus said, with grim warning.

"Oh, well enough! 'Tis all right, Gregory," Geoffrey growled.

"She truly seemed to take delight in our guesting," Cordelia murmured from the narrow bed on the other side of the spare room.

"Aye, once she was satisfied she'd warned us, and done all she could to scare us away," Gregory agreed.

" 'Twas a good supper," Magnus sighed. "What meat was that the pie contained?"

"None," Cordelia said, with the complete certainty of the beginning cook.

"'Twas naught but nuts and tubers, so cleverly combined the taste was like to fowl."

"Not foul at all." Gregory lifted his head, frowning. "'Twas good."

"Nay, wart," Magnus said fondly, "she means the bird, not the-bad."

"She's nice to guest us," Geoffrey sighed, "though I'd have liefer slept outdoors."

"Then go," Cordelia snorted. "I doubt not Robin and Kelly will guard thy slumber."

"Where have they gone?" Gregory pouted. "Want my elves!"

"They're nearby, I doubt not," Magnus reassured him. "They rarely wish grown-ups to see them."

"Kelly especially," Cordelia agreed. "Look what chanced with him when last a grown one met him!"

"And what he lost," Magnus agreed. "Eh, Gregory?… Gregory!"

His little brother sighed deeply.

"He sleeps," Cordelia whispered. "A long day hath it been, for so small a fellow."

"And the bed is soft," Geoffrey agreed. "I could almost…" He broke off for a huge yawn.

Magnus smiled and held his peace, waiting. So did Cordelia.

Geoffrey finished the yawn with a smile and burrowed his head into the pillow. Two heartbeats later, he breathed lightly, evenly.

"Good night, sister," Magnus whispered.

"Good night," she answered.

The room was still.

Magnus jarred awake at a sharp pain in his nose. He could not breathe! He opened his mouth to yell, but something rough jammed into it—woolen cloth! He leaped out of bed, or tried to, but his arms and legs pressed against something holding them down. Rope! He was bound and gagged!

Phagia's face loomed over him in the moonlight, mouth hooked upward in glee. She gave off a high, thin giggle, nodding—but there was something odd about her eyes, as though they weren't quite focused, seeing Magnus but not really registering him.

"Art chilled?" she cackled. "Fear not; thou'lt be warm soon enough." And she turned away and went out the door, giggling still.

Rigid with fear, Magnus lay still and reached out with his mind, listening for his brothers' and sister's thoughts. The room seemed to darken even more, and the clattering old Pha-gia was making in the next room dulled. Just barely, he could make out their thoughts, too fuzzily to tell what they were thinking, but enough to know they were there. He forced his head up and looked about. Dimly, by moonlight, he could just make them out—bound and gagged, even as he was.

He lay back, feeling sweat start to bead his forehead, and fought for calm.

Really, there was nothing to worry about. What if she had bound him? He'd just think at the knots and untie them!

But the rope wouldn't move.

Magnus closed his eyes and concentrated furiously on the knot. He felt it twitch, barely, but that was all. He gave up and sagged back on the bed, feeling the sweat of fear trickle down his cheek. What horrible spell had Phagia worked on him?

And on his brothers and sisters, too, no doubt!

Then he remembered the supper—the vegetable stew that had tasted so wonderful, and that his sister had assured them had-contained no meat. Whathad it contained, though? What herb had Phagia discovered in her fifty years in the forest, that could dull the senses of a warlock and rob him of his powers?

Phagia was singing, some odd, irregular tune that slid up and down from one off-key note to another. Pots and pans rattled, and he heard a long creak of an unoiled hinge. He remembered the sound from supper—it was the oven door. He heard the scratch of flint and steel, heard the gentle gusting of the bellows, heard Phagia's giggle. "Warm, yes. Nice and warm, for the poor chilled children. And sauce. Young ones never like any meat, if it hath not a good sauce." And she broke off into the weird humming again, as liquid poured and a wooden spoon knocked against the side of a pot.

Her sarcasm chilled Magnus, the words and tone of a kind old granny contrasted with what she meant to do. He understood the evil sorcerer's curse suddenly and clearly—exactly what disgusting form of death Phagia's friends had met!

Cordelia. Gregory. He couldn't let them be killed, shoved into an oven for an old witch's gluttony!

Or an ancient sorcerer's revenge. It was Gregory's thought, so faint Magnus could barely understand it—and, in a sudden wave of understanding, he realized the youngest was right.She knoweth not what she doth , he thought as hard as he could.

Aye, certes, came Cordelia's faint thought.That glazed look in her eye —her soul's asleep!¦-Only her body wakes , Gregory agreed.

'Twill suffice to make mutton of us, Geoffrey thought— harshly, to mask his fear.What can we do ?

A shadow blocked the light from the kitchen, and Phagia came back in, crooning, "Ah, the poor wee lad! So chilled in his bed! Nay, he must be wanned ere the others." And she went across the room, to scoop Gregory up in her arms.

Sheer terror cut through the fog of drug, and Gregory howled through his gag as his mind shouted,Magnus! Cordelia! Geoffrey! Aid me !

Fear and rage galvanized his brothers and sister, and they thought blows against the old witch—but the drug dimmed their powers; Phagia only wavered as she stood up and turned, cradling Gregory in her arms. "Dizziness! Oh!" She stood still for a moment, eyes squeezed shut. Then they opened, and she smiled. "'Tis past. Now, lad—let us prepare dinner." And she hobbled toward the kitchen.

Magnus thought mayhem at her again, but she tripped on something more substantial—and, just as she tripped, something small and dark shot through the air and slammed into her shoulder blades. With a scream, she toppled…

And Gregory sailed out of her arms, straight toward the open oven.

His thoughts screamed as he stared at the oven in terror.

As one, his brothers and sister reached out with their minds to pull at him.

He slowed, coming gradually to a halt, mere inches from the oven door.

Magnus breathed a sigh of relief, then thought,Down, now, and slowly .

Gently, carefully, they lowered the little boy to the floor.

In the bedroom doorway, Phagia struggled to lever herself up off the floor. A small shadow loomed up by her head, slamming downward with a miniature hammer. It connected with a dullCLUNK ! and Phagia slumped, with a tired sigh.

The small shadow chuckled, then looked up at Magnus. It was Kelly—and he sprang up to Magnus's bed and yanked the gag out of the boy's mouth. "Well, lad!

Ye're safe, then— but 'twas a near one."

'Too near by half," Magnus agreed. "My deepest thanks, Kelly." He turned to the larger shadow. "And thou, Robin. Great thanks for fair rescue!"

"Great welcome," the elf replied, but his face was severe. "What could I have said to thy parents, had I brought thee home roasted? Yet, now!" He glowered at Magnus, then turned his head to glare at Cordelia and Geoffrey as the gags pulled themselves out of the children's mouths. "What have happed to thee, hadst thou not had thine elf nearby?"

"Death," Cordelia answered, round-eyed.

"True death." Puck nodded. "Not children's play, from which thou couldst arise and walk. Now, when next thine elf bids thee retreat from danger, what wilt thou do?" And he turned his glare on Geoffrey.

"We will heed thee." The middle boy gazed back at Puck with the weight of realization. "I will own, now—there be perils that be too great for children—even we four!"

"We will obey thee," Magnus agreed. "We will heed even thy doubts, Robin."

Puck glowered at them—but he couldn't maintain it; his seriousness frayed, and mischief gleamed through.

The children saw, and relaxed with a shaky sigh. "Eh, Puck!" Magnus cried,

"we feared thou werttruly enraged with us!"

"Which did no harm, I warrant." Puck turned and went over to Cordelia.

"What is this stuff that muffled thy thoughts, child? Doth it wear thin?"

"Let me try." She stared at the rope that bound her wrists. The ends twitched, then began to draw back out of the knot— but slowly, so slowly! "We do recover."

"Not quickly enow." Puck seized the rope and whisked the knot loose.

"Unbind them, Tacky!"

"I'll thank ye to remember yer manners, Barkface," the leprecohen retorted.

"If ye ever learned any, that is," but he poked long fingers into Geoffrey's bonds and untied him in a trice.

Magnus wrenched his hands loose and seized his dagger. He cut through the rope that bound his ankles and leaped up to go to his little brother—and stumbled, nearly falling; but he caught the door frame in time., He yowled at the pain of the tingling in his ankles.

"Aye, the blood is angry at having been dammed from its normal course,"

Puck agreed. "Patience; it will return."

"There's scant time for patience." Magnus hobbled over to Gregory. "She may wake at any moment."

"No fear," Kelly assured him. "I've still a hammer."

But Magnus had untied Gregory, and the little boy flung his arms around his big brother's neck. "There, there, lad," Magnus crooned. " 'Twas horrid, but 'tis done."

"Hammer or not, 'twould be well to be gone," Puck said. "I hate all housen in clear weather—and this one reeks of evil. Come, children!"

He turned away to the door, and Geoffrey and Cordelia followed him with a very good will. But Magnus sent Gregory after them with a pat on the bottom, then turned back toward Phagia, frowning.

Puck turned back too, nettled. "Nay, lad! Come away!"

"She's but stunned," Magnus answered. "I bethink me we need her to be senseless for a longer time."

Cordelia looked up, alarmed. "What dost thou, brother?"

But the eldest was staring at the witch.

"What doth he?" Geoffrey demanded.

Gregory touched his shoulder. "Peace. He pushes thoughts of sleep into her mind."

Geoffrey's face hardened with envy. Magnus had been able to project his thoughts for a year now, but Geoffrey still couldn't. He had better sense than to make a jealous fuss at a moment like this, though.

The witch's eyes suddenly snapped open in surprise. Then they blinked, several times. She stiffened in alarm, realizing what was happening to her—but Gregory and Geoffrey caught hold of Magnus's hands, channeling their own strength into him; and slowly, Phagia's eyes closed. Her body relaxed, and her bony chest rose and fell with the slow rhythm of sleep.

"Well done, my brothers," Cordelia murmured.

"Softly," Magnus cautioned. "Her sleep is not yet deep."

"Come, now," Puck urged. "It doth behoove us to leave, and let her sleep."

"All away, then." Magnus stepped back to wave the others past him. "Whiles we may, without unpleasantness." He looked up suddenly, then whirled back to the bedroom. "Gregory!"

The youngest hovered above old Phagia, sitting cross-legged in midair, frowning down at the sleeping witch's face. "Big brother… there's something odd within her mind…"

Puck and Cordelia looked back over their shoulders, and both his brothers stilled. "Odd?" Magnus breathed. "What oddity is that?"

"Nay, I catch his meaning!" Cordelia leaped back to the old witch. " 'Tis some manner of compulsion, buried!"

"Cordelia!" Magnus cried in alarm.

Phagia stirred in her sleep, muttering.

Magnus instantly lowered his voice. "Beware!" he called in hushed tones.

"Have thy broomstick by thee!"

"Oh, fuss not so!" Cordelia hissed back. "There's no danger—and were there, thou couldst lift me away right quickly. Now—leave me be a moment, the whiles I peek within her mind." And she knelt stock-still, staring down into the sleeping woman's face.

"Thou wilt heed thine elf this time!" Puck said by her shoulder. "Away, child!

There is danger, deep in people's minds!"

"I misdoubt me an 'tis so deep as all that," Cordelia murmured. "Dost'a not recall, Puck, that Northern sorcerer who didst cast compulsions on all soldiers who came against him? Mama taught me then, how to break such spells."

"Well… mayhap, then…" Puck frowned and watched.

Cordelia gazed at the sleeping witch. Her brothers gathered around, watching silently. After awhile, she shuddered. " 'Tis vile! That foul sorcerer must needs have a gutter for a mind!"

"What did he?" Magnus asked softly.

"He tied friendship through her childhood urges in her nether parts to her need to eat—they merge at our ages. And those she loved—her mother and father—

had denied her sweets when she wanted them, as all parents must, if they do not wish their children to fall ill—and she'd grown angry at that denial, as all children do.

Since she loved them, that anger turns against all who befriend her, and she eats to gain revenge on her mama and papa."

"Doth she know any of this?" Geoffrey cried in indignation.

"Shhh!" Cordelia cautioned, and Phagia stirred in her sleep.

Magnus clapped a hand over Geoffrey's mouth.

"She knoweth naught," Cordelia whispered, "even as we thought. He cast a spell into her mind, in that way Papa calls 'hypnosis.' When she waked from the trance he made, she remembered naught—but in her sleep, the spell comes on her again, whene'er she's near a friend. Her deeds tonight were like to sleepwalking."

"Canst thou break the spell?" Magnus asked.

"Aye. 'Tis deeper than the sorcerer Alfar's, but not so deep that I cannot find its roots. Come, nubbin, lend me power." She caught Gregory's hand and gazed at Phagia. Gregory frowned, too, in intense concentration.

Geoffrey and Magnus were silent, watching. Puck's face was screwed up with worry, and he stood tense, ready to leap to aid if he was needed.

Phagia stirred in. her sleep, muttering a stream of words that the boys couldn't quite understand. Her body twitched a few times, stiffened, then suddenly relaxed. She breathed a deep sigh.

So did Cordelia, leaning back and going limp. "'Twas a sore trial, that."

"There was danger!" Puck accused.

Cordelia shook her head. "Only in that I might tire—but Gregory's strength was enough to lean on. And he sensed weakened points that I could break. 'Tis done; she'll not seek to bake another. She'll wake well rested, and with a greater sense of well-being than e'er she's had." She dropped her face into her hands, shuddering. "But, oh! That any could be so evil as to wreak such havoc in a person's mind, as that fell Lontar did!"

"Doth he still live?" Geoffrey's face had hardened.

Cordelia shrugged, but Kelly said, "He may. Word of such an one doth run through fairy gossip, now and again. Yet none know where he dwelleth."

"Well, we are warned." Magnus turned to Puck. "An we come near him, Robin, we'll be fully on our guard. This magus, at least, is naught to trifle with."

"And merits death." Geoffrey's eyes glowed. "An we encounter him, brother, take no chance. We'll smite him down, ere he can know we're by."

"Nay, surely thou wilt not!" Puck glared up at the boy, his fists on his hips.

"Thou wilt not encounter him, be certain! For thou wilt now march home right quickly! Out the door! Off down the path! At once!"

Geoffrey glowered down at him in rebellion.

Magnus touched his shoulder. "Be mindful… webbed feet…"

Geoffrey looked up, appalled. Then he sighed and capitulated. "'Tis even as thou sayest, Puck.Anything thou sayest."

"Home," Gregory chirped.

Chapter 5

They hurried on down the path, unnerved and shaken. Gregory glowered his darkest. "How could a man be so vile, Puck? 'Twould have been foul enow to weigh his greater strength against a woman; she had scant enough hope of fighting him even had she known she was beset—but to cast so horrid a spell on her, unawares!"

"'Tis, foul, I know," the elf agreed. "And men have done worse, lad."

"But to rend her whole life thus!" Cordelia cried.

Puck shrugged. "What cared he? So long as he felt the satisfaction of revenge

—of what concern was her life to him?"

"'Tis the most vile of Sassenaches," Kelly muttered, face thunderous. "An we can find him, we must slay him!"

Gregory shuddered.

"That may not be true," Fess said quickly. "The wrong he has done, will not necessarily be righted by the equal wrong of his murder."

"Mayhap not—but it will surely prevent him from harming any others!"

"How now, brother," sneered Geoffrey, "thinkest thou to imprison a warlock?"

Magnus turned to scowl at his impertinent younger brother. "Wherefore not?"

"Why, for that he'll disappear clean from any cell thou mayest find for him!"

Gregory's eyes lost focus. "Mayhap there is a way…"

Geoffrey eyed him warily. "Dost think to craft a gaol that will hold a magic-worker? 'Ware, brother—ere thou dost find thyself imprisoned within it!"

"An he doth, he'll discover a way to come out," Magnus assured him, "yet no other would. An we can catch this vile sorcerer, I doubt not we can hold him."

"And how shalt thou catch him?" Cordelia scoffed.

"Why, thus!" Magnus cried, and he swatted at Geoffrey. "Tag!"

Geoffrey rounded on him, incensed, but Magnus disappeared with a bang—a double bang, for Geoffrey disappeared right after him. From a thicket a hundred feet away, his voice cried, 'Tag!" followed by the sound of a small explosion, then another in an oak tree a few yards away; its top swayed with sudden weight. But a small boom echoed it, and the treetop lashed wildly as Magnus's voice shouted,

"Thou art 'it'!" Geoffrey howled in anger, but Magnus answered with a laugh that cut off with another small explosion, followed immediately by another bang as Geoffrey disappeared after him.

Kelly leaped for the nearest oak root. "What manner of weird game isthis ?"

"'Tis young warlocks' play," Puck answered. "Dost know of mortal children's 'tag'?"

"Wherein one must flee while another seeks to touch him? Aye."

"'Tis much the same, save that the one who is 'it' must read in the other's mind, the instant ere he doth disappear, some passing hint of the place he doth flee to. Then the lad who is 'it' doth disappear also, and doth attempt to reappear in the same place as the one he pursueth, that he may tag him."

"And they who are not 'it' must needs try to hide their thoughts, so that he cannot follow them," Cordelia added, glaring toward the treetop.

Kelly frowned. "And if the one who is 'it' finds no hint of where the other is going? Or if he reads the hint wrongly?"

"Then must he cast about, mind open to all impressions, seeking his quarry's thoughts."

Magnus reappeared with a thunder-crack right behind Gregory, eyes alight with glee, crying, "Hide me!" and ducking down behind his little brother.

"Thou great oaf, I can see thee most clearly!" Cordelia cried; but Gregory squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating furiously, thinking of apples and oranges, of a large bowl of luscious fruit, of their tantalizing aromas.

Air boomed, and Geoffrey shouted, 'Tag!" as he swatted Magnus's shoulder, then pivoted to Gregory. "I had lost him; he 'scaped without a trace of a thought of where he was bound. Yet when I listened for sign of his presence, all I could find was a picture of luscious fruits in thy mind—and, me-thought, 'There's no reason for Gregory to be so suddenly entranced with food.' Therefore did I know thou didst seek to hide knowledge of him—wherefore, he must needs be near thee."

"Thou dost talk overlong." Magnus slapped his shoulder and disappeared, crying, "'Ta…!"

"It will not serve," Geoffrey hollered. "Thou must needs remain long enough to finish the word!" But he was talking to empty air. With a hiss of impatience, he turned to tap Gregory. "Thou, too, art in this game! Tag!"

He disappeared with a firecracker's bang, and Gregory disappeared after him with a whoop of joy.

Cordelia stamped her foot. "Oh! How naughty of them! They know Papa was wroth with them for playing this game, how afeard he was that two of them might appear at once in the same place together, and bom be slain!"

"Aye," Puck agreed, "till thy mother did explain to him how some instinct within a warlock's mind ever seeks ahead of himself, to be sure he will not appear inside a tree or rock —and that it must needs work so with this game of tag, sin that the one lad is always ahead of the other, by no matter how slight an interval."

"Oh, aye! Yet Papa did say that such a knack must have grown because little warlocks whose minds did not work in that fashion, must needs have died young!"

"Yet he could see thy brothers all lived," Puck reminded her, "and was therefore persuaded that their minds did have such guarding within." Privately, he thought Magnus had found an admirable way to shake his brothers and sister out of the effects of their harrowing night—and didn't doubt for an instant that the eldest had intended just that.

"Naetheless! Mama hath forbade them to play this game, when I've naught to do by myself!" Fuming with jealousy, Cordelia glared off toward the series of small explosions like a string of firecrackers. "Oh! Vile lads, to play so without me!"

"Yet what withholds ye?" Kelly demanded. "Go! After them! Horse and hattock! Ho, and away!"

"I cannot," Cordelia answered, seething.

Kelly frowned. "Wherefore not? Can ye not read minds as well as they?"

"Aye," Cordelia answered, "mayhap better—but I cannot teleport."

"No witch can." Puck frowned at Kelly. '"'Tis a warlock's power only. Dost not know so simple a fact?"

"Nay." Kelly reddened. "Nor do I now, since word of it has come only from an Englishman. Is't true then, lass?"

Cordelia nodded, face thunderous.

"How do ye know it, then?"

"Papa hath told me, as Mama hath also. Nay, further—so hath every other witch and warlock that I've met."

"Ah, well, then," Kelly sighed, "if all do say so, it must needs be true."

Puck scowled at him. "Mind thy sarcasm!" But Cordelia didn't notice; she was too busy trying to follow the peripatetic tag game by telepathy, as the whole acre of woodland re-sounded with pops, bangs, and cries of "Tag!"

"Nay, 'tis thou art 'it'!"

"Base!"

"There is no base!"

Air boomed, and Magnus stood before them, darting glances around the trail.

"Where is he? Hath he not returned to thee, sister?"

"Nay, he hath not! Which 'he'?"

Geoffrey was there beside them with a bang, swatting at Magnus. 'Tag!"

"Oh, be still!" Big Brother snapped, before Geoffrey could disappear. "I've lost track of Gregory."

Geoffrey shrugged. "'Tis his purpose, in this game. Rejoice that he doth it so well."

"I do not." Responsibility made Magnus peevish. "There's too great a chance of one so small being hurted. Listen for him, brother. If I can have but a single happy thought from him, I'll pretend I've heard it not, and take up our game again—

but I must know he's safe!"