The Warlock is Missing

The forsaken sister clenched her fists. "Oh! The hussy! Quickly, Gregory! We ca

"But how can we stop them?" Gregory asked.

"I know not! Oh! What ma

"Nor never will, from the look of thee," Phebe called maliciously. But the path seemed to explode in front of her, and she pulled back with a cry of alarm.

"Puck," Magnus muttered.

Phebe cast him a quick look of horror, then stared at the elf in the pathway in front of her. "It ca

"Yet it is!" Puck leveled a finger at her. "And I adjure thee, witch, to break this spell! Release these boys, ere thou dost rue it!"

The threat seemed to restore Phebe a little. She straightened, looking down her nose at him. "What glamour is this!-There be no elves, nor any spirits! Thou mayest cease thine enchantment, child—I'll not believe it!" And she stepped forward on the pathway.

"Hold!" Puck's voice was a whiplash. "Ere I give thy body the semblance of thy soul, and make thy face the image of thy virtue!"

The girl blanched. "Thou couldst not truly!"

"Could I not, then?" The Puck's eyes glittered. "And art thou not the harpy who doth delight in tormenting men? What semblance wilt thou have, then?"

Slowly, Phebe's eyelids drooped, and her full lips curved into their smile. Magnus and Geoffrey stared up at her, spellbound, but her gaze was now for Puck. "Thou art male," she purred, "and great of spirit, though small of stature. Nay, then, canst thou not imagine my delights?"

Puck snorted in derision. "Nay, nor can I think thou hast any! What! Canst thou truly think thyself the equal of a fairy lady? But look into mine eyes, lass, and learn what charms may be!"

And she was looking into his eyes, of course, to try to cast her spell over him—but now she found that she could not break her gaze away.

"Now, regard," Puck said softly, coming closer. His eyes glittered as he sang,

"Golden slumbers kiss thine eyes! Do not wake till moon doth rise! Sleep, pretty wanton, do not cry, And I shall sing a lullaby! Rock her, rock her, lullaby!"

Her eyelids drooped, and kept on drooping. They closed, and she nodded, as Puck's voice went on in eldritch singing. Her head jerked up once, and she blinked, trying valiantly to stay awake—but Puck kept on singing, and her eyes closed. She sank to the ground, head pillowed on one arm, and her breast rose and fell with the slow, even rhythm of sleep.

Puck smiled down at her, gloating.

Then he turned to the two boys who stood staring dumbly down at the sleeping peasant maid, and clapped his hands in front of Magnus's face. "Waken! What! Wilt thou let a woman lead thee by the nose?"

Magnus's head snapped up as he suddenly came out of his trance.

Puck had already turned to Geoffrey. "Wake! For thou hast lost thy battle ere it began!"

Geoffrey's head whiplashed; then his eyes focused on Puck. "Battle? What fight is this?"

"Why, the struggle for thy will, my lad! What! Wilt thou let a woman lead thee into fighting for a man thou knowest to be evil?"

Geoffrey's gaze darkened. "Nay! Never would I!"

"Yet thou didst!" Cordelia came up. "Thou didst, and only Robin's rescue did save thee from it!"

Geoffrey turned to her, hot words upon his tongue; but Puck said, "Remember," and the boy froze, appalled as he suddenly remembered how he had let himself be caught.

Puck nodded, watching his face. "Aye. So easily wast thou mastered."

"It will never happen again!"

But Magnus, more carefully, said, "I pray not."

"Pray strongly, then—for any man may be caught by women's beauty, and few are the men who have not been. Yet not 'men,' neither, for that man is not a man, who may be so entranced by a woman that, at one sight of her, he doth forget all that he hath undertaken, all that he doth strive to do, all duty that remains. Nay, an he doth, then the woman hath mastered him—and how can he then be a man?"

But Cordelia had a gleam in her eye. "'Tis a power to be desired."

"Aye, for a lass—but 'tis one to be proof against, for a man. There be many good women, yet there be many also like to this Phebe, who will very willingly use their charms to govern men, an they can—so be not overly concerned with the pleasures they promise."

Cordelia frowned, looking as though she wasn't too sure she liked this line of talk. She couldn't really object to it, given the provisos Puck had stipulated; but she could set the record straight. "'Tis a foul slut, belike." She wasn't sure what a slut was, but she'd heard grown-ups use the term, and knew that it was an insult. "Yet though this Phebe hath a certain tawdry sort of prettiness, it ca

Puck agreed. "There's truth in that. She is a common milkmaid, look you, and, though she is attractive, I've seen far more beauteous women among the ranks of mortal females."

"Doubtless there is some element of the projective telepath in her, too," Fess said. "She is quite probably a minor witch, though she knows it not—an esper who can project her own thoughts effectively enough to hyponotize instantly. And, since she thinks her greatest strength is her physical attraction, her projective ability is naturally linked to it. Thus her effect on men is mesmerizing, both literally as well as figuratively."

"What doth he say?" Geoffrey asked.

"That she is an enchantress," Gregory summarized!

Geoffrey cast him a look of a

"Yet surely she's enough a hazard so that the knight who rules this parish would stop her," Magnus insisted. "How cometh she to be yet free to work such havoc, Puck?"

"Why, for that she hath not begun it till two days agone," Puck sighed. "Bethink thee, lad—from what she said, this Shire-Reeve whom she doth support, did begin his work directly after thy mother and father went wandering. Ere he can stop her, the parish knight must learn how she doth turn young men away from his service—and how is he to find that out, when all she doth is chat with them?"

"But can he not see that she doth twist them to her purpose?" Cordelia protested.

"There's no law 'gainst that, and if there were, I doubt me not there'd be few weddings. Nay, lass—our goodly knight must needs decide that teasing can be treason—which thou dost know, since thou hast seen it; but grown men would have trouble crediting it."

"Aye," Cordelia said. "They are puffed up with importance. How could they deign to notice so small a thing? It would quite make them seem much smaller than they wish to be."

Puck eyed her with a new respect. "Thou wilt be most dangerous, when thou art grown. Yet thou hast the right of it—men who are surfeited with their own importance, scarce can bring themselves to acknowledge things so small as jests and rumors. That's the reason whispers are so hard to guard against, and thus can do great damage."

Geoffrey frowned. "I do begin to comprehend. Papa hath told me that rumor can bring down armies."

"This may be one reason," Puck agreed. "Another is that within the featherbed of rumor, there's ofttimes a pea of truth, and who can tell what is and is not false? What proof is there that this Shire-Reeve doth not work for Their Majesties, and for the kingdom's good? Only what we ourselves have heard from this wench."

"And how could the knight credit what she doth say?" Cordelia murmured. "She's but a milkmaid, and she speaks against the King's Reeve."

Puck nodded. "Thus, how's the knight to know the Shire-Reeve will speak him false? Or that thou wouldst speak truly?"

"Aye." Magnus's mouth tightened. "We're but children, and she and the Reeve are grown-ups."

"Yet wilt thou do better when thou art grown?" Puck asked.

"Be sure, I will!" Geoffrey stated. "Children or milkmaids, high or low, I'll hearken to them all, and give full thought to all I hear!"