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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. What had 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 gra
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 wa
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 di
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 co
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 wert truly 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 ma
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.