Christopher Stasheff - The Warlock is Missing

"How the hell did you know about…" the captain burst

out; but the agent silenced him with a gesture. "We aren't supporting any locals.''

"Yet a dozen came to his mind," Cordelia reported, "faces, and some names, one for each dukedom and earldom. And the Shire-Reeve is above all of them."

"Thou dost lie poorly," the High Warlock sneered, "yet thou wilt be in no further danger this night. Farewell." He turned, and stalked away into the darkness.

The VETO agents watched him go, stupefied.

After awhile, the captain looked up at the house. "Everything seems quiet."

The agent shook his head. "That doesn't matter. The High Warlock knows about this HQ. We'll have to abandon it and build another one."

"Sir!" the sergeant hollered. "The net's loose!"

"Loose?"

"Let me see!"

"Let me out!"

"Rank!" the agent bawled. "Squirm aside! Out in order of seniority."

He scrambled out of the bag with the captain right behind him. The agent stood, dusting himself off, but the captain looked up at the house, frowning.

"Don't get ideas," the agent growled. "We can't stay here."

"Y'know," the captain said, "that guy was awfully big, even for the High Warlock."

"What are you saying?" the agent asked.

"And his voice was kind of low-pitched for a human being, you know?"

"Yes, sir, now that you mention it." The sergeant stood up beside him.

"And come to think of it," said one of the junior agents, "the High Warlock speaks modern English, not Elizabethan."

A mile away, the children sat down with Puck, Kelly, and Fess to try to make sense out of the new information.

"'Tis not our VETO enemies who did kidnap them," Magnus stated.

Cordelia nodded. "That much is clear. Therefore we must seek elsewhere for them."

"But what will happen an we do not find them before Groghat and the barons have brought down Their Majesties?" Geoffrey asked, frowning. "Or the Shire-Reeve hath taken the throne?"

The children were silent for a moment.

Then Gregory said, "We must prevent that."

"Nay!" Puck cried. "There be some matters that be too dangerous even for witch-children!"

"But we cannot let them ruin our land, Puck," Cordelia pleaded.

"You cannot stop them, either," Fess murmured. "Puck is right in this, children. You can be of great assistance to adults —but you cannot fight such powerful, grown enemies by yourselves. They will defeat you, and you may be slain."

"Heed him," Kelly advised.

They were silent for a moment. Cordelia rose and went to her unicorn, hugging it for comfort.

Then Geoffrey rose too, dusting off his hands. "Well, then! If we cannot find them of ourselves, we must find Mama and Papa, that they may do it!"

"Aye," Magnus looked up, his eyes kindling. "And we may begin by seeking out Papa's enemies from SPITE."

"There is none," said Summer, "not in all this forest, nay, nor any of the farmlands about."

"Truly," Fall agreed, "not in all this earldom of Tudor— neither a great house, nor a warren of caves."

"Sure, and 'tis as they say," Kelly agreed. "In all the King's lands, 'tis the same—in all of Runnymede, no sign of any sort of a 'headquarters,' as ye call it. I've sent for word from the fairies there, and I know."

"Nor is there one in any county in Gramarye," Puck added. "I, too, have called for word from all fairies, aye, and elves, too, and nixies, and pixies, and pookas and sprites; from bu-chawns and kobolds, from gnomes and from goblins…"

"We do believe thee," Magnus said hastily, to cut off Puck's listing of spirits. "Yet surely these 'anarchists' do coordinate actions. Must they, therefore, not have a center?"

"A geographical center is not necessary," Fess reminded them, "any more than it is for the witches and warlocks. Just as any of you can communicate with a leader, no matter where he is, so can the anarchists, with their transceivers and view-screens."

"Yet the folk of VETO could have done so, too!"

"True," Fess admitted, "but a central administrative base is more in keeping with their pattern of thought. SPITE's anar-chists have the goal of destroying central coordination, so they are much more likely to manage without its physical symbol."

"Yet they must have a leader," Geoffrey insisted, "a commander! No action can be taken in concert without one!"

"It is theoretically possible," Fess demurred, "though it has never occurred."

"What manner of men are these," Cordelia said in disgust, "who embrace the very thing they abhor, in order to destroy it?"

Fess tactfully forebore to mention that she was not the first to have had that particular insight.

"An they have a commander," Geoffrey said stoutly, "we have someone to question. How can we find him, Fess?"

"That will be extremely difficult," Fess admitted. "In fact, if they adhere to their usual pattern, they will have several commanders, each of whom has all the data that the others have, and any one of whom is capable of coordinating the entire operation."

"They are nonetheless commanders," Geoffrey said staunchly.

"'Tis their pattern in all things," Fall said. "Fairies from other counties have told us of plowboys and shepherds who go to join the forces of bandits; and of giants and ogres, who have begun to wreak terror, but do not leash outlaws; of sorcerers who do seek to seize power, and counts who do battle one another, but never the bandits. Each county seems to have one of each of these, and a monster, too. If 'tis not a dragon, then 'tis a manticore or a cockatrice."

Geoffrey reddened with anger. "Commander or not, they have been well enough guided to unleash this chaos on our land in a day!"

"'Tis horrible," Cordelia stated, pale and trembling. "Oh! The poor peasant folk, who must suffer the woes these evil ones do inflict!"

Gregory clung to her waist, round-eyed with horror.

"And we can do nothing," Magnus breathed, "for this is beyond what four small children can do."

"Aye," Puck agreed. "That is work for thy mother and father, when they do return."

"But will they return?" Cordelia said in a very small voice.

"Oh, they shall!" Gregory looked up at her with total certainty. "They shall find their way home again. None can keep them from us."

Somehow, no one even thought of doubting him.

Then Magnus's face hardened, and he turned to his brothers and sister. "Yet in our own country, we need not allow so much misery! In Runnymede and in this southern tip of Tudor, we can hold sway! Not of our own doing, 'tis true —but by bringing the Wee Folk, and the other goodly creatures…" he nodded toward Cordelia's unicorn "… to act against these… these…"

"Nasty men!" Gregory cried, his little face screwed up in indignation.

Magnus froze, trying to look severe. Then Cordelia giggled, and Magnus grinned. "Aye, lad, these nasties! Yet we have brought Puck and Kelly and their folk to league 'gainst these 'nasties,' and we can do it again and again, till they are all rendered harmless! Runnymede at least can be kept safe, and the King shall have a sanctuary of peace into which to retire!"

"Aye!" Gregory shouted. "We shall seek out the nasties, and lock them in gaols!"

"And while we are about it," Geoffrey said grimly, "we can ask certain questions of them."

"Out upon them!" Cordelia cried. "With which shall we begin?"

They all fell silent, staring at each other in consternation.

"Who," Gregory asked, "is the greatest of nasties?"

"'Tis well asked," Magnus admitted. "Who can be chief among them? Who can be leader of they who seek to eschew leadership?"

They were walking down a forest path in the general direction of the main road, trying to puzzle it out.

"They do not truly lack a leader," Geoffrey asserted, "though they claim to. I heard Papa speak of this, of a time; there's one whose word they heed."