Christopher Stasheff - The Warlock is Missing

"Have at thee, villain!" His brother threshed about, but the darkness tangled itself about him. Cordelia screamed, and Gregory bawled—and all of them fought to lift whatever the foul-smelling thing was, with their thoughts.

But nothing happened.

Outside, Fess's battle cry tore the air, underscored by the sound of meaty impacts. Something bellowed, and someone shrieked, then something big struck the ground with a metallic crash. Then the bellow sounded in full rage, and hoofbeats galloped away with a defiant, fading, whinnying scream.

"Praise Heaven!" Cordelia said. "My unicorn, at least, hath saved herself from whatever foul monsters have set upon us!"

"But Fess!" Gregory bleated. "What of gallant Fess?"

For a moment, they all listened frantically, searching for Fess's presence with their minds.

"He is disabled," Magnus said, and all of them felt terror seize them. What could be so mighty as to put the robot out of action so quickly?

There was one being who had done it before…

The huge voice roared with victory now, and something squeezed all around them, jamming the four of them up against each other. Then the dark foul-smelling thing yanked their feet out from under them and swung them high in the air, jumbling and knocking against one another, feet up, heads down. They couldn't see a thing, and they all screamed and yelled.

The roar turned into words. "We have them! And their guardian beast lies slain! We have them!"

"So I see," wheezed a crackling old voice, and the sound of it chilled the children. "Hold that sack tightly closed, Groghat! Let them not escape!"

"Nay, Lontar! Fear not—I'll not chance it!"

"But thou didst enchant him!" Cordelia cried to Magnus. "He cannot so much as think of injuring us, or any folk, without pain!"

Lontar's voice gave a high, shrill laugh. "But I do not hurt thee, foolish child! 'Tis Groghat who doth so!"

"And do gladly, for children who cozened me and gave me pain," the giant grumbled. "Do thou prevent them from disappearing, Lontar!"

"Oh, the lass cannot disappear, at the least," a feminine voice said impatiently. "That power's proper only to warlocks."

"Indeed," Lontar's voice wheezed. "And hast thou not noticed, Phebe, that these lads can move objects by thinking at them?"

"Nay, I had not," Phebe answered, her tone surly. "Hold them fast, Lontar!"

"Oh, be easy in thine heart." Lontar cackled. "This spell is new, but 'tis mighty. They'll not be able to use any witch-power they own, the whiles I hold them with my mind. Yet be sure thou dost keep the lads in check, when we loose them in their dungeon."

"I'll answer for the two larger ones," Phebe said, with certainty. "Yet the smallest… I ken not. Even babes have never been proof against me, so long as they were male—yet this one scarcely doth notice."

"Well, between us three, I warrant we can contain them all," Lontar chortled. "'Tis well we chanced upon one another. What we could not do singly, we may surely do together."

"I would we had done more with that horned horse," Phebe said bitterly. "She hath gored mine hand to the bone! Aid me in winding this bandage, Lontar… Ow! Pest upon her, that she would not let me approach!"

"Having certain powers doth preclude others," Lontar creaked. "Yet I will be pleased with those I do own, for they have brought mine enemies into my grasp. Now these meddling babes shall be forever made still!"

A chill ran down Magnus's back.

' Tis the peasant wench, the sorcerer, and the giant, combined against us , Cordelia thought, terrified. Is't true what he doth say? Have we no powers left ?

We still can hear thoughts, at the least . Even Geoffrey was on the verge of panic. Yet for the rest of it…1 do seek, even now, to catch and hold this giant's foot with my mind — yet naught doth occur !

And I essay to disappear — most heartily, I assure thee ! Gregory thought. Yet 'tis even as thou dost say; I bide !

Our thoughts do not move . Magnus fought hard against a rising panic.

Magnus — what shall we do ? Cordelia's thoughts wailed.

Bide, and hope . And Magnus did—he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. We've faced worse . It was a lie, but no one called him on it. Then inspiration struck, and he thought, Be mindful — the Puck is yet free !

By the time they came out of the trees, Gregory had wormed a hole in the side of the bag. "I see a tower," he reported.

"What is its aspect?" Magnus called.

'"'Tis overgrown with mosses and ivy, and is hung with rusty chains. Old horseshoes are secured over the doorways and windows, and there's a deal of rusty nails and broken sickles and such hung about it."

"Cold Iron." Magnus's heart sank. "'Tis proof 'gainst the Wee Folk; even Puck may not enter there."

"What will they do with us?" Cordelia moaned.

"This sack is heavy, even for a giant, when 'tis carried so far," Groghat grunted. "Wherefore do we take them to thine home, Lontar? Why not slay them where we found them?"

"What—only slay them, and leave them?" Lontar giggled. "Nay, foolish giant! Wherefore ought we to waste them?"

"Waste them?" Phebe sounded uncertain suddenly. "Why, for what wouldst thou have them at home?"

"Why, for dinner!" Lontar's voice had a gloating sound that made the children shiver. "Hast thou never noticed, Phebe, that the youngest are the most tender? Nay, 'tis rarely that one hath opportunity for such!… Ahhh!" He shrieked. "Eh-h-h-h, the pain! Yet my revenge upon them is worth it!"

Magnus felt his stomach sink. / never thought the old man so enjoyed hurting folk, that he would be willing to suffer such pain , he thought.

With the stab of pain past, Lontar began to boast. "Why, I mind me that I once cast a curse upon a wench who spurned me, so that, henceforth, she would seek to feed upon any who did thereafter seek to befriend her!"

' Tis even as we thought —' tis he did enchant old Phagia ! Cordelia thought, horrified.

Then he hath the blood of many upon his head, already . Geoffrey felt anger rising. It helped hide the growing fear; he felt better. We need have no qualm at seeking our freedom by whatever means we may !

But Lontar heard their thoughts. "Indeed," he crowed. "And how shalt thou accomplish it?"

The dim light filtering through the sides of the hot, stuffy bag faded and was gone. "We have come into thy fortress," Groghat boomed. "Where shall we bind them?"

"Yonder," Lontar said.

Groghat muttered, and the children heard his feet gritting on stone, felt the bag jounce as he climbed stairs—and climbed, and climbed, and climbed…

Finally, rusty hinges groaned, and the bag shifted topsyturvy. Howling in fright, the children tumbled out. They remembered Papa's lessons and tucked in their chins, so that their heads were at least a little protected as they slammed into the stone floor. The sudden light seemed horribly bright after the darkness of the bag, and they squinted, looking about—to see the old wizard standing in the doorway cackling, with Phebe beside him, looking very somber now, and unsure. Groghat was there behind them, stooping to peer into the room.

Lontar had put on his wizard's robe—dark blue, soiled and greasy, but with the gold of the embroidered signs of the zodiac still gleaming through. His tall, pointed cap, with golden stars and crescent moons upon it, came up to Groghat's chest.

"I'll come for thee anon," Lontar crooned, "when I've heated my cauldron. Enjoy what little time is left to thee whilst thou may. I have given thee my proudest room." He elbowed Phebe aside with a crow of triumph and slammed the door. A rusty bolt ground home.