CHAPTER 13

Castle Break

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Merlain was crying. She just couldn't help herself. It was partly Charles' beautiful sad dream, that she was forgetting almost as fast as he was, leaving her with a sense of appalling loss. But it was mostly their present situation.

Here they were, the four of them, shut in this ugly, dank cell that smelled of the sea. Three boys, no privacy at all, and no real excuse for a bathroom. At least the dream girl had privacy!

"Don't cry, Merlain," one of the kinglets said. He was reaching out one of his royal, very dirty hands to her, reminding her of how she herself looked, how they all looked.

"I—I can't help it." She choked, almost as upset at being comforted by a pain as by the rest of it. The sob she tried to swallow hurt.

"They didn't take our things," the kinglet said reassuringly. "Brudalous only took our cloaks and then called those fish faces to take us to this tower. They didn't ask for our packs. Charles still has his sword.

You have the Alice Water. My brother has the spelling book."

"Yes, but I'm still afraid." What, after all, could they hope to do? The orcs were almost as big as she had been as a giant. The cell they were in stretched for a long distance in both directions, being scaled for orc prisoners, and it was in a tower. The ceiling was far, far overhead. Suppose she did make herself big, could she fight Brudalous and all the fish faces?

He's got a point about that spelling book, Charles thought to her, recovering from his grief because he had forgotten it. Why didn't they take our magic things?

Because they don't realize that we have other magic, she responded.

So we can use another spell! It's a great book.

Yes, but I'm afraid of it.

What for? It got us out of the mountains in Rotternik and into Ophal.

Yes, and now we're locked up! It's just like the dungeon the royal pains put us in, only bigger and aboveground.

At least no one here fed us laxaberries.

She sniffed, wiping her nose. Charles was trying to make her feel good, and maybe it was working. He had forgotten his dream, while she hadn't quite, maybe because the enchantment made him forget itself, while her memory was of him experiencing his dream, and the forgetting didn't apply to her so well because she wasn't the one being enchanted. That thought confused her so much that she lost it.

She had actually been afraid of the gruel that had been brought, but she had been so hungry that she'd eaten it. Now it was much later, after each of them had excused himself or herself—actually she had excused herself twice—and gone to the dark corners for relief. She didn't know what Brudalous intended, but she knew they had to leave. If they could get out, she didn't even want the old opal! All she wanted was home.

"Take a look in the book," Charles suggested to Kildom. "I don't think the orcs realize we can do magic.

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Maybe they don't know that magic can come from books." That was her realization he was taking credit for, but she let it pass.

She watched them, not liking it. It wasn't that it was evil— do no evil! —for the books were really neutral, not evil. But they were dangerous. Under Kildom's directions she'd done a spell to turn her and them into swooshes, the way Helbah and then Auntie Jon had done. She'd done just what Kildom and the book had told her, and what had happened? Somehow they had called up a big and powerful bird! If Charles hadn't done things to its mind, she thought it might have eaten them. The magic in that book could turn either way, and they might not be quick enough to make it work for them, next time. Maybe adult witches with centuries of experience had nothing to fear from such powerful spells, but they were children.

"Well?" Charles prompted her.

But what else was there? Certainly they did not want to be left to the horrible mercies of the orcs!

She hated even touching the book, with its feel like baby skin and the ugly pictures of monsters in it. But as Charles had just reminded her, it had saved them once. She took the book from Kildom, opened it, and wondered what to look for.

"See if there's a spell to break out of cells," the second pain suggested, coming back from the corner.

No, Charles urged in her head. Make me into a powerful swordsman, the way Daddy is supposed to be.

That's with his gauntlets, Merlain reminded him. His Mouvar gauntlets. Without them, he's just a klutz. A lovable one, of course, but a klutz.

So find a spell for my sword. Or have that bird bring me gauntlets as magical as Dad's.

I can't do everything, Merlain complained. I can't even read very well.

So get the pains to read for you. You did before.

Yes, but I don't want that bird.

Then get something else. Get anything else. We have to get out of here!

Again, he had a point, though she was annoyed by his impatience. Merlain clenched her jaw and handled the book. She flipped pages, looking for something not too bad. If the orcs discovered them with the book, and caught on why, they would surely take it. If she was going to perform magic, she'd have to do it now.

Ugly picture followed ugly picture. Her stomach turned. She just couldn't believe witches would do such things. Not good witches. That was, of course, the key: this book was not intended for good witches.

"Use the index, Merlain," one of the kinglets suggested.

Index? Oh, yes, that listing in the back. She'd tried looking up a spell for bird and look what she'd gotten! She flipped to the index, and both pains helped her. They were as eager to get out of this cell as she was.

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In the index they read: "Break: body, control, desire, home, imprisonment." Merlain winced at the early listings, having a faint ugly notion of their significance.

"That's it! It has to be!" Kildom said. "Turn to that page and we'll read that spell."

"To break someone's body?" Charles asked, frowning.

"To break our imprisonment, dummy!"

Merlain turned the pages, distracting them before they could work up a boyish quarrel. Somehow it seemed that no matter what the subject, the page number was always 666. That's where they'd found the bird spell. Now, book again in hand, she was on that same page, but the spell number and subject were entirely different. What good the index was, when the page numbers were all the same, she wasn't sure, but it did seem to have helped her find her place. Maybe the index made the page of whatever was looked up in it change to page 666.

She read. "Symbol drawn in blood." Well, she could make herself big and prick her finger, as before, but then it would take a while for her to get small. She had to be inside the symbol's lines to work the spell. She wasn't sure how much time they would have before the orcs came to eat them.

"Can we help, Merlain?" Kildee asked in her ear.

Could they? Yes, she supposed they could. If Charles were to cut one of them with his sword...

Forget it, Merlain. We owe them our lives.

But—

Make one of them big. Let him cut himself and bleed big drops of blood.

An excellent idea, if an orc didn't catch them at it. She explained what she wanted. At first the kings were appalled at the notion of shedding royal blood, but then they started daring each other and calling each other chickling, and in a moment they were matching fingers to see who would have the privilege of making the donation.

Kildom won. Soon he was taking a precious sip of Alice Water, while Merlain worried yet again because of the diminishing supply. Now it was over half gone; they had less big time remaining than they had used before. "Give me back the bottle!" Merlain cried. "I have to stopper it again!" But she was too late.

Almost instantly the little pain was a big pain, very big, his head almost touching the ceiling. As with Merlain, all his clothes and the Alice Water bottle he held had also grown. That was the way of magic: it made sense only on its own terms. At least he had heard her plea about the bottle, and was putting the huge stopper back in it.

"I'm big!" Kildom boomed down. "I'm not afraid of orcs now. Let 'em come! I'll—"

"Your blood, Kildom!" his brother called up. "Hurry, before you learn just how strong you'll have to be!"

Charles held up his sword by its handle, and two big fingers took it from his hand. It was hardly more Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

than a pin to the giant, but maybe it would cut him as well as her own dagger had cut Merlain.

"Why do I have to do this? I can just break us out! I can knock down some walls and—"

"And the orcs will be all over you," Kildee said. It was amazing how reasonable he seemed to have become by not getting large. "You know they've got giant weapons and how strong they are reputed to be. Besides, if they can change frames with the opal and nullify invisibility cloaks—"

"Oh all right." Kildom stuck his pinky with the—to him—needle-sized sword. Drops of blood rained down, big drops. One drop fell on Kildee and soaked his filthy clothes right through. Another drop almost hit Merlain, but she had had sense enough to be alert for this, and stepped out of the way just in time.

"Ouch!" Kildom boomed in a voice that surely roused the entire orc castle. Then, sounding surprised even in his deep voice, "That hurt!"

"You expected it maybe to feel like Helbah's kiss?" Kildee called up sarcastically.

Kildom started to laugh. "Yes, that's exactly what it felt like!" In a moment they were both laughing, with huge ho-ho-ho's and shrill hee-hee-hee's.

"Quickly now," Charles said impatiently. "We have to get through this spell before the orcs get their cooking pot hot!" That sobered both kinglets rather suddenly.

With Kildom's big help they drew the lines around Merlain's feet. Quickly she dipped her fingers in the fresh blood and transferred some of it to her face. A half-moon drawn on either cheek, and horn-type marks on her forehead.

She spoke the words. She didn't have to look at the open book. Somehow they just came to her.

Witchcraft got easier to do, not harder. She had a deep-rooted queasy feeling about that, but there was no time to think about it now. Just so long as she used magic only for a good cause.

Something happened. There was a trembling that shook the entire room. It was as if the island itself were shaking. Merlain wondered if it were, or if that was only part of an illusion.

CRRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKK!

Merlain looked up to see a band of daylight widening above their heads. The band ran all the way down a wall and was becoming wider.

CRRRRRRAAAAAK!

Now the floor widened at her very feet. There was a gap there, a terrible gap that went down through the floors below. She could not see to the bottom of it; it seemed to have none. It reminded her of the fabulous Flaw, the crack between worlds. That made her feel a bit dizzy.

"Kildom!" she called up. "Get us out of here!"

Kildom walked the two big steps for him to the huge door. For him it was now an ordinary door in a playhouse, and he a tall adult. He reached down, placed his hand against the wood, and shoved. The hinges and lock snapped and the door exploded outward.

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There was the hallway beyond, the stair landing, and the stairs. But a great tear was running through them all, sagging the carpet down into the crack. The fissure was getting worse!

Kildom hesitated. Well he might! Merlain knew that everything would soon collapse about them, and that they would never make it down those stairs. Throughout the castle orcs were running, screaming, calling to each other, and in general being properly disorganized. Many orcs were departing as fast as they could run.

Kildom turned from the doorway. If he was surprised by his great strength, he had no chance to exclaim about it. The castle tower was coming apart in two halves, precisely in the middle, with fracture lines radiating to either side. There was the major split that cut off the stair landing, and a minor crack that crossed their cell. The center of the whole business seemed to be right in their area. Merlain thought that might be just because they couldn't see the rest of the breakage, but more likely it was because it was their spell that was responsible. The magic in the spelling book was horrendously powerful!

Kildom looked out the small window. He could reach it now, far over Merlain's head. He reached out a hand and pushed, and the window exploded outward. With quick hands he broke away large sections of masonry. Now there was a hole big enough for him to go through, but below was that awful drop and the lapping dark waves of an angry sea. She'd be angry too, if the ground around her were cracking up and messing up her system!

"Kildom," Merlain started to tell him, "you can't—"

To her great horror Kildom unstoppered the now-grown bottle of Alice water, held it to his lips, and tilted it up.

"NOOOOOO!" Merlain screamed, fearing the loss of the last of that invaluable elixir. The absolute fool!

Then something grotesquely big, huge, and monstrous was coming down and picking her up. A drained-white Charles and a pallid Kildee were beside her on something far too big to be Kildom's palm.

She closed her eyes and felt a lifting, and then a flying, and then a tummy-tickling drop. Water was splashing down below, far below, and then she felt a shock that went all through her.

She opened her eyes to see both boys flat on the bumpy, hilly surface they shared with her. Water was still below them, but not nearly so far below as it had been. Overhead white clouds floated, in a perfect blue sky.

CRRRRRAAAAACK!

Kildom, impossibly huge, stood in water that was waist-deep for him. He stood uneasily, buffeted by the tiny waves. His head was between them and the clouds. The hand they were on was above the water at a height several times as great as Merlain had been able to carry them. Fingers the size of tree trunks were bent protectively over them. To Kildom, Merlain thought, they were now the size of flies.

"Look at that!" Charles said, pointing.

Merlain shook and rubbed seawater from her eyes. Above them, not nearly as far as she had imagined, was the cliff and the castle, and—

The split and fallen sides of its tower.

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She cried out, and then she shook all over as she had never shaken before. What had they done? What had the magic done? What had she done? The orcs would be angry, with a certain justice. Brudalous would want a war!

They might have found a spell to make them all very small so that they could have crept out through the normal crevices of the castle and reverted to normal size once they had escaped undetected. They might have found a spell to make the walls porous to their bodies so they could walk through them and go home. There might have been plenty of ways for them to escape without making any fuss. But what had they done instead?

They had broken imprisonment. Through evil magic they had not just found a way out; they had broken the very walls that had held them confined. In the process they had practically guaranteed calamitous trouble between the orcs and the human folk.

Merlain shivered. How she wished they had never gotten into any of this hideous misadventure!