Now all this time King Red Flame knew nothing of the happiness and
the misfortune that had come to his queen. He finished the business
that had taken him forth as quickly as he could, and then, in haste,
he turned his horse toward home. But it was by another road that he
returned to the palace, and it was for this reason that he missed the
messengers that Grey Smoke had sent to seek him.
Three days had passed since he had bade farewell to the Queen, and now
he was soon to see her again. Light-heartedly he rode along, singing
a snatch of a song that the Queen loved, and more than once he took
from his pouch a beautiful flashing necklace that he was bringing as a
present to his wife. As he held it up in the glowing light it shone and
flashed as only magic can. He smiled with delight as he thought of the
pleasure it would give her.
So full of joy was he that when he reached the palace gate he failed
to notice the sad faces and tear-stained eyes of the fairies that came
out to meet him, and take his horse. Only as he hurried up the palace
stairs did he realize that the place seemed quieter than usual.
But presently, drawing still nearer to the chamber of Queen Glow, the
sound of the wailing of many voices smote on his ears, and the nearer
he drew to her chamber, the louder it became. Fear suddenly awoke in
his heart, and drove his feet swiftly forward. He rushed to the Queen’s
door, flung it wide open, and stood for a moment looking in. Then he
hurried to her bedside, the fairies shrinking away before him to right
and left.
There upon the bed lay the Queen, as fair and white as some beautiful
figure carved in ivory.
With a loud cry King Red Flame fell on his knees beside the bed, and
clasping the lifeless hand of the Queen in his, he called to her,
beseeching her to look at him, to wake, to speak. It seemed indeed as
though he were unable to believe that she could no longer hear him.
At last, laying down her hand, he raised himself slowly to his feet.
“Tell me,” he cried, “how has this happened, and what has brought this
terrible misfortune upon our land?”
For a moment all were still. Then Grey Smoke stepped forth from among
the rest. “Your Majesty,” said she, “it is the work of the Earth Fairy.
It is she who has revenged herself thus.” Then briefly she told him all
that had happened since he had ridden away.
Silently the King listened, too stunned for word or thought. There was
a pause, and then Grey Smoke laid a gentle hand upon his sleeve, and
spoke again: “Your Highness,” said she respectfully, “do not forget
that the baby Princess needs you, and that she who has wrought all this
evil is still free and unpunished.”
At that King Red Flame turned his head, and looked at the golden
cradle. There above it hovered the tiny white flame, the only visible
form of the fairy Princess.
“Alas! Alas!” mourned Grey Smoke at his ear, “that this should be
all that is left of the loveliest princess that the Land of the Fire
Fairies has ever seen!”
The King aroused himself. “It is too late,” he cried, “to bring my dear
Queen back to life, but at least as far as the Princess is concerned
the guilty one shall repair her mischief. Bring the Earth Fairy to
me, and after she has restored my daughter, she shall receive the
punishment she has deserved.”
At once several fairies hastened away to seek for the Earth Fairy, and
soon returned guarding her in their midst. She was weeping bitterly.
As soon as her captors released her, she threw herself at the King’s
feet. “Alas! Alas!” she wailed, “the Queen is dead, and they accuse me
of being the cause. Though why, I cannot understand.”
“You know why they accuse you,” answered the King sternly. “I am but
too well assured that it is you who have brought this grief upon us
all. Now it is for you to break the spell you have laid upon the
Princess, and after that we will consider what punishment is fitting
for such a one as you.”
“The Princess!” cried the Earth Fairy, “I left her here in the cradle,
but it appears that harm overtook her also.”
“Enough!” cried the King. “Yours is the spell that has changed the
Princess to a flame. Yours must be the spell to restore her to her
shape.”
“But I know nothing of spells,” exclaimed the Earth Fairy desperately.
Grey Smoke started forward vehemently. “What then were you doing with
the wands that Spark saw when you opened the door?” she demanded
sharply.
The Earth Fairy flushed deeply, but answered without hesitation.
“Before my mistress fell asleep, she bade me bring her a certain bundle
of wands that she wished to look at. I brought them, as she bade me,
and she looked at them, taking some in her hands, and putting others
aside. After that she gave them back to me, and bade me return them.
While I was still busy putting them away, these Fire Fairies came and
seized me roughly, crying that the Queen was dead, and that I was to
blame. But listen--who was it that accused me? It was Grey Smoke who
forced her way into the chamber of the Queen in my absence--it is
Grey Smoke who says these things about me. How do you know that it is
not Grey Smoke herself who has done this deed? What more likely than,
having done it, she should try to throw the blame upon another?”
“Do not dare to accuse my good Grey Smoke. There is none whom I trust
more than I do her,” retorted the King angrily. “Had we but chosen
her as the Queen’s attendant, this grief would not have come upon us.
Nothing that you can say will ever make me believe that you are not
guilty. But we are wasting time. You have been brought to break the
spell.”
Stubbornly, again and again, the Earth Fairy repeated that she knew
nothing of spells, either to make them or break them.
“Take her away,” commanded the King at last. “Let her be kept in a
dungeon, away from everyone, until she consents to restore the Princess
to her true form.” In spite of the Earth Fairy’s cries and struggles
she was dragged away, to be kept securely under lock and key, until she
was ready to obey the King’s command.
This done, King Red Flame had a golden box brought that contained the
very finest wands that he possessed, and tried with all the skill he
knew to break the spell cast over his daughter; but it was quite in
vain--the white flame still fluttered above the cradle, and the baby
Princess still remained invisible. The King was filled with despair,
for he knew of nothing more that he could do to break the Earth
Fairy’s spell. Overcome with grief he turned to leave the room.
And now a strange thing happened. The tiny white flame, leaving the
cradle, followed after him very timidly, but very steadily, as if the
fairy Princess knew him, and longed to be close by him, in the shelter
of his love and protection.
“Look, look, Your Majesty,” cried Grey Smoke, “the little Princess
follows you!”
The King was touched to the heart. He commanded that the Princess’s
cradle should be brought to his own chamber, and there sitting beside
it, he rested his head sadly upon his hand, and pondered deeply, while
still the white flame hovered quivering and flashing softly above the
cradle.
Suddenly there came a low knock at the door, and Grey Smoke’s voice
was heard, asking if she might enter.
“Come in, Grey Smoke,” replied the King, and as the door opened, and
the old nurse came in, he added, “Let us see whether you cannot suggest
some way to help my poor little daughter. For me--I have no thought
left.” He sighed heavily as he spoke, and from the white flame above
the cradle there seemed to float a faint answering sigh.
“Your Majesty, do not despair,” counseled Grey Smoke. “It is true
that the spell cast upon the Princess is a powerful one, but I am sure
that in time everything will turn out well. I have been to see the
Wise One, and he has told me that only the Veil of Disenchantment that
lies hidden in his magic chest can break the spell that rests upon the
Princess.”
The King sprang to his feet eagerly. “There is, then, some magic thing
that can break this enchantment?” he cried. “Let us go at once and
fetch it.”
“That is impossible,” replied Grey Smoke. “Only the prince who will one
day come--he who is fated to win the Princess as his bride, can see
this Veil. Only in his hands is it potent to restore her.”
King Red Flame shook his head in doubt. “My good nurse,” he groaned,
“what hope can there be that such a prince would ever love my poor
daughter, who is nothing but a quivering flame?”
“Is there no charm that you can bestow upon her, so that even though
she remains a flame it will win his heart, and make him long to set her
free?” inquired Grey Smoke.
Again the King sank into deep thought, and as he sat there silently the
soft cry of the flame again sounded in his ears.
“Her voice!” cried the King. “Though her form has been taken from her,
her voice still remains! Could I but make it the most beautiful voice
in the world, it might draw all hearts to her, even though she should
indeed remain forever invisible. Had I but a wand that had not already
failed--but, as you know, I have already tried with every wand in the
palace to restore the Princess to her true form, and as you also know,
no wand that has once failed can be used the second time.”
“Your Majesty, the time has now come for me to tell you something that
up to now has been known to no living soul except myself. When your
mother died, she left in my care a wand more powerful than any other
in the palace. This wand I was to keep until such desperate need arose
as could be met by no other magic known to any of us. It is called the
Wand of Good Enchantment. The time for you to use it has now come.” So
saying Dame Grey Smoke drew from under her long cloak a faded silken
case, and laid it in his hands.
Eagerly the King opened the case, and drew from it a slender wand,
decked with snow-white feathers. The moment he touched it, the thrill
that passed through his fingers told him that it was full of magic. His
eyes gleamed with joy.
“Ah, Grey Smoke,” he cried, “might it not be possible that this wand
has the power that none of the others possessed to break the spell, and
give me back my daughter? Shall we not try to restore her at once?”
“Nay, nay, Your Majesty! Do not venture!” begged Grey Smoke anxiously.
“Trust to what the Wise One has told me. As yet no power can restore
the Princess. Do not destroy the magic of this wand in a useless
attempt. Rather use it to bestow the gift that will win the heart of
the prince who is to save her.”
“You are right,” agreed the King sadly. “The risk is too great. It
shall be as you say.”
Taking the Wand of Good Enchantment, he rose, and stood looking down
into the cradle of the little Princess. Waving it to and fro above the
tiny flame, he said tenderly, “My daughter, by the magic of this wand,
I bestow upon you a voice of such marvelous sweetness that all who hear
it shall be drawn to you, and it shall in the end win for you the love
of that prince who alone can save you.”
The words were no sooner uttered than forth from the flame came a
gentle sound of exquisite music, stirring the heart.
Hearing it, tears of joy rose to the eyes of King Red Flame. His
mother’s wand, left to him for his hour of need, had not failed him.
[Illustration]