The Kingdom - Clare B Dunkle - Hollow Kingdom 01 - The Hollow Kingdom

“The King is not here,” it hissed very quietly. “He is far away. Too far for me to find.”

“I know where he is,” said Kate decisively. “I need to go free him. Unless he comes back, there won’t be another King. Or,” she added wickedly, “a one-hundred-and-sixty-ninth King’s Wife.”

The golden snake looped itself about her neck and slowly traveled down the other arm. Kate didn’t exactly care for the feeling.

“Even if there is another King,” it hissed, “he will not be King for long. The sorcerer will enslave him, too, and there will be no more King’s Wives. I think you must take me to this sorcerer. He is a danger to my Wives.”

“Can you make the door open?” asked Kate.

“No,” it whispered, “I would not make the door open to let out the King’s Wife. It would break. There would be no door, and there is no Guard. We will leave by the water mirror.”

“Really?” asked Kate excitedly. “Can you make it work?”

“No,” hissed the snake. “You can.”

Kate stared. “Of course I can’t!” she said indignantly. “I can’t do that kind of thing.”

“You’re an elf woman,” said the snake, buzzing slightly. “Ninety-nine of the King’s Wives have been elves. You can certainly operate the water mirror.”

“Even if I have elf magic,” Kate protested, “the King says it’s locked fighting the Door Spell.”

The golden snake twirled gracefully, studying the red burn on her forehead.

“Why do you need to fight the door?” it asked softly.

“Because I never wanted to be here,” explained Kate. “I wanted to leave.”

“We are leaving,” hissed the snake, “but not by the door.”

“Oh,” breathed Kate in discovery. The snake surveyed her with its slitted eyes.

“Sixty-four of the King’s Wives have not been very bright,” it whispered. “The last one was a blithering idiot.”

“Yes, I think you told me that already,” said Kate, tight-lipped. She squeezed Marak’s cold hand good-bye and headed to the water mirror.

The snake explained that Kate must think of a place on goblin land and spread the scene on the water like a blanket. She tried and tried, but nothing happened. A couple of times, the water changed color, but that was all.

“Twelve of the King’s Wives have had trouble with their magic,” said the snake softly. “One of them set her own hair on fire trying to light her tiara with a sparkle charm.”

“Good for her,” snapped Kate. She was getting tired and very frustrated. But she noticed that in spite of her frustration, her burn didn’t hurt her at all.

“Do you know the land above ground well?” hissed the snake. “You must be able to see it exactly as it is.”

“I didn’t live there very long,” she admitted. “Maybe I just can’t picture it clearly. Wait!” she said. “I know what I can picture.” She went to the workroom to study the star charts, comparing the charts to the stars’ positions in her mind. Then she hurried back to the mirror. Hand outstretched and eyes closed, she pictured the stars above goblin land, and when she opened her eyes, there they were, rippling in the lapping water. She could see the half-moon and the great jewels of the planets. With a happy cry, she sprang at the mirror to escape the underground, ignoring the snake’s warning buzz. She felt the cool bubble of the water surface stretch against her and then break.

Something was horribly wrong. No ground was under her feet. She was ice-cold and she could barely move. She opened her stinging eyes, and there were the stars, still rippling and shining. Bubbles poured out of her mouth. They rose toward the stars, and Kate struggled with all her might to follow them.

In another instant, she broke the surface of Hollow Lake, splashing and gasping. She just had time to glimpse the village lights not far away before she went back under. She bobbed back up to the surface, thrashing frantically.

“Hold your breath!” buzzed a voice in her ear. Kate gasped in a great breath and held it. This time, when she went under, she didn’t go down very far. “Now go limp,” directed the buzzing, “and look at the stars.” Kate rolled onto her back in the water, staring at the stars, and a rope around her neck began to tug her along. It was the snake, swimming furiously, throwing itself back and forth across the water and filling it with bubbles.

Kate stared up at the night sky, unaware of her danger or of the supremely annoyed snake who was saving her from it. She couldn’t look at the stars enough. After a minute, she had to let out her breath, but this time she didn’t panic, and she was ready to take in another breath when she bobbed back up.

After several more breaths, the snake buzzed ungraciously, “You aren’t in danger anymore, King’s Wife. You can walk now.” It drooped about her neck as she splashed around, feeling for her footing. “I have guarded one hundred and sixty-eight King’s Wives,” it buzzed like an enraged bee. “I have saved ten of them from drowning. I saved one Wife from a bucket. I saved another from the Flood. But I never saved a single one from walking into the middle of a lake before. You are the very first. When you operate the water mirror and use stars to guide you, please be sure you are seeing them as they look from dry land and not as they look under ten feet of water.”

Kate, wet and chilled, scrambled up the crumbly shoreline, her dress front and shoes covered with sandy silt. She shivered in the cold wind blowing over the lake, but she had never been so happy before. The entire vast sky was above her. Moonlight flooded her, inside and out. She thought she could probably fly.

“You are in danger, King’s Wife!” buzzed the infuriated snake. “In danger of catching pneumonia.” But Kate ignored her unusual companion as she squelched toward the village.

She slept the remainder of that night in an old woman’s cottage. Those wise eyes took one look at her lavish jewelry, her elvish beauty, and her painted golden snake, and they drew their own conclusions. Kate decided unhappily that there would be a folktale about her soon.

In the morning, the woman left the cottage to hail the post coach for her. When she was gone, Kate called out, “Snake?” in a low voice. There was a rattling zing as the golden object uncoiled once more.

“Not a snake! Not a snake!” it buzzed in some disgust. “I was a sword before I was anything, and now I’m a magical charm.”

“But you look like a snake,” protested Kate. “We humans judge on appearance.”

“Forty-eight of the King’s Wives have been humans,” it replied. “Nothing they do would surprise me.”

“Well, what should I call you, then?” asked Kate sensibly. “Do you have a name?”

“I am the King’s Wife Charm,” it hissed royally. “That is my name and my function.”

“That’s a little hard to say, all at once,” said Kate. “I’ll just call you Charm.” She looked at the snake a little doubtfully as she said this. It was a great many things, but it was not charming. “I’m traveling in the human world today. I don’t want them to stare at you and ask questions. Can’t you be a little less conspicuous?”

The snake weaved back and forth before her face. She hated this; it made her dizzy. “One hundred and twenty-seven King’s Wives have been embarrassed to be seen with a snake around their necks,” it buzzed, but it whisked out of sight down her sleeve.

Kate hurried to the coach as it stopped by the cottage. “No bags, miss?” asked the freckled coachman, helping her in. Kate sat down on the hard leather seat and looked around. A large, fleshy woman and a rather beefy man sat across from her in the coach. The man was reading a paper and barely glanced over, but the woman was eyeing her with interest. Under her gaze, Kate colored up. What a sight she must be! The yellow silk gown, lovely yesterday, was crumpled and stained with mud. Accustomed to the underground, she hadn’t realized that it was early winter and had brought no wrap, so the old woman had persuaded her to accept a patched black coat. To top it off, the amount of jewelry she wore was by English standards truly shocking. Kate sighed. She shouldn’t have scolded the snake. It couldn’t have made her look more bizarre than she did already.