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THE
SHADOW
WITCH
BY
GERTRUDE
CROWNFIELD
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
ANNE MERRIMAN PECK
E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT 1922, BY
E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
_Printed in the United States of America_
[Illustration]
TO THE FRIEND WHOM I HAVE NEVER SEEN
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
PAGE
PROLOGUE 1
CHAPTER
I. 5
II. 23
III. 37
IV. 52
V. 68
VI. 79
VII. 101
VIII. 113
IX. 122
X. 148
XI. 166
XII. 181
XIII. 201
XIV. 213
XV. 224
XVI. 243
[Illustration]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Prince Ember stretched eager hands to receive it 107
She saw before her a glorious figure, Prince Ember 145
The Prince led his bride home to his Palace of
Good Cheer 249
THE SHADOW WITCH
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
PROLOGUE
Come, sit with me beside the broad hearthstone and gaze into the depths
of the fire when it burns low, for not among the leaping flames alone
are there to be seen marvelous things.
Deep hidden from your eyes at first, but plainly visible as you look
closer, are countless forms of brightness and of beauty. You will find
them among the shining coals that glimmer in scarlet and gold before you
when the embers lie clear and warm upon the hearth. You will behold
them among the shadows that flit across the embers with delicate grace
and changeful hues.
Here, spread wide open, is a part of the magical Land of Fire, the
wonderland of the good and peaceful Ember Fairies. A golden gate gives
entrance to it. Shining pathways lead through its bright gardens. Its
skies are warm and glowing. Here, decked with flaming banners, stands
the home of the good Prince Ember—his fairy Palace of Good Cheer. Here
moves the beautiful Shadow Princess, in trailing garments of rose and
amethyst. Here she may be seen in her dance of joy and ecstasy followed
by her faithful band of Shadows.
Long ago, in the Land of Shadows, lived the Shadow Witch, the one
beautiful and loving creature in all that dim and darksome land that
lies away from the Land of Fire, and between it and the Chimney Back.
Close to her domain is the great Plain of Ash, where the giant, Curling
Smoke, rises, where the crafty Ash Goblin lurks, where the boisterous
Wind in the Chimney swoops down from out the Chimney Mouth. Near by,
also, in his Cave of Darkness, her brother the Wizard works his
enchantments.
If you will but hearken, I will tell you how the Shadow Witch came to
leave that grim land with its evil fairies, and why it is that she now
dances with happiness amid the good fairies of the Fire, in the Land of
Glowing Embers. You shall hear, also, of the noble Prince Ember, and of
the quest upon which he once set out. What speed he had in his high
adventure, and whether or no he brought it to a happy and fortunate
close, this tale will make known to you.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I
One morning at early dawn, the Shadow Witch stole down her palace steps
and out into her Garden of Shadows, to walk there alone.
Not many days before, a stranger prince, seeking to deliver a beautiful
flame princess whom he loved, had passed through the Land of the Evil
Fairies that lies far away from the heart of the Fire. The Shadow Witch
had seen him, and at first, half in mischief, and half because she was
lonely, had tried, by her magic, to lure him away from his quest into
her own land. But soon, moved by his courage and goodness, yet most of
all by his faithful love to his princess, she had given him aid in his
undertaking, and had saved him from destruction by her brother, the
Wizard of the Cave of Darkness.
No such bright visitant had ever before come into the strange country
where she dwelt, and when he departed, her dim palace, her misty woods
and gardens, even her own magic, no longer gave her pleasure as they
once had done.
Far from her dominions lay that lovely land from whence the prince had
come, the land of the good and happy Fire Fairies. Of the bright spells,
the noble magic, the joyous life of these fairies she knew nothing.
Through her dusky land she moved, attended by her servants, the
Shadows, working with them her curious, and sometimes mischievous,
spells. Her brother, the Wizard, gave her no cheer, spent no love upon
her, taught her nothing good, and she, for her own part, seldom sought
his presence.
As she walked this morning in her garden, her dark eyes were troubled,
and she let her grey garments sweep the ground unheeded, while in fancy
she followed Prince Radiance, who had come for one brief hour into her
dull life. She could not but wonder whether she must be always lonely as
she now was, whether she must always wish in vain for such happiness as
his land could give. Up and down the alleys of the garden she went, and
for a long time no one came to disturb her, but at length a voice broke
in upon her musings.
“Mistress of the Shadows,” it said, “a messenger from your brother, the
Wizard, desires to speak to you.”
The Shadow Witch lifted her eyes. Before her stood her most faithful
servant, Creeping Shadow.
“What is his message?” the Shadow Witch demanded.
“He declares that it is for your ear alone,” the Shadow answered.
Her mistress frowned impatiently. She was in no mood to talk with him.
“He waits at the palace door,” continued Creeping Shadow, “and says that
he will remain there until you are pleased to receive him.”
“Go, then, and bring him hither,” was the reluctant answer. “I will hear
what he has to say.”
Creeping Shadow hastened to obey, and presently returned accompanied by
a dwarfed creature, black as the blackest soot and clad in raiment as
dusky as himself. It was the Chief Imp, a trusted messenger of the
Wizard.
The Shadow Witch especially disliked him. He was at times impertinent
when he came on her brother’s errands, therefore she held herself
haughtily and folded her robes closer about her when he drew near.
But the Chief Imp bore himself humbly today and his disagreeable face
wore an air of deep distress. He bowed himself to the earth, and waited
permission to speak.
“What says your master?” demanded the Shadow Witch imperiously. “Speak.”
“Alas!” groaned the Imp, as if in profound grief, “My master lies in his
cavern sick unto death. He begs that you will come to him, and, by your
magic, restore him to himself.”
The Shadow Witch regarded him unmoved. “Has so great a magician as my
brother no magic of his own that will be potent to restore him, that he
must ask aid of mine?” she inquired.
“Nay, madam,” replied the Chief Imp, rolling up his eyes, “He has tried
every means within his power and grows no better. He turns to you,
therefore, in his extremity and beseeches you not to refuse him.”
Knowing, as she did, the craftiness of her brother, the Shadow Witch
heard his message with distrust. She knew that if he had discovered that
it was by her help that the prince had escaped him and that evil had
been brought upon himself, it would go hard with her once she was in his
power. Therefore, she determined, before she yielded to his request, to
learn from his servant whether or not he suspected her of what she had
done. So she bent a searching gaze upon the Chief Imp and began to
question him.
“Tell me,” she commanded, “what is this sickness from which your master
suffers, and what is its cause?”
The Imp hastened to inform her. “A strange prince penetrated the Cave of
Darkness, a short time since. For reasons of his own, the Wizard sought
to overpower him with the spell of his Urn of Vapors, but the prince,
who had come upon him without warning, suddenly flashed about him a
magic weapon, the Sword of Flames, that instantly took from my master
all power to protect himself. He cried aloud to us, and at once we
hurried him away to an inner chamber, far from its dreadful sway. There
he lay for a time insensible, and we feared for his life, but at length,
tended by his servants, he became able to move a little, and, at last,
even to speak. But that is all.”
“What has become of this prince and his magic sword?” demanded the
Shadow Witch, watching him yet more closely. “Have you permitted him to
escape with it unharmed?”
“Ah, madam,” the Chief Imp replied, “When we came to seek him, to wreak
vengeance upon him, he had vanished and had left no trace.”
“Had this prince no servants, no companions?” insisted she. “None who
guided him to my brother’s cavern?”
“Nay,” he assured her, “the prince was quite alone.”
The Shadow Witch asked him no further questions, but stood silent,
pondering deeply whether or no she should grant the Wizard’s request.
She herself had seen him overcome by the fairy sword, had seen the
prince depart in safety, but that her brother trusted to any magic of
her own to restore him, she greatly doubted. Still, she believed that
there could be no grave danger to herself in going to him. Never, even
in the fulness of his power, had he been able to really injure her. Why
should she fear him now, when he was helpless. Besides, from what the
Imp had said, it was not known that she had guided and protected the
prince. Therefore she had no cause for uneasiness.
She turned to where the Chief Imp waited, regarding her with his crafty
eyes. “Go back to your master,” she bade him. “Say to him that I will
come shortly to render him what aid I can.”
Well pleased at the result of his errand, the Chief Imp departed.
As soon as he was out of sight the Shadow Witch beckoned Creeping Shadow
to her side and instructed her with lifted finger. “I go alone to visit
my brother, the Wizard, who lies ill, and has sent for me. If, however,
much time passes, and I have not returned, you may be sure that some
evil has befallen me. Seek me then, instantly, in the Cave of Darkness,
for I shall have need of you.”
Creeping Shadow swore to obey what she had been told, and her mistress,
gathering her trailing robes over her arm, took her way to the Wizard’s
Cave.
Gloomy and forbidding was the Cave of Darkness. Its outer walls rose
high and cliff-like from the great Plain of Ash, and a yawning opening
led off to its dark corridors and many dusky chambers.
The Shadow Witch had no sooner reached the Cave mouth and entered it
than the Chief Imp, with a spark lantern in his hand, met her to conduct
her to his master. They passed swiftly down the narrow passage and came
presently to that vast black chamber called the Cave Hall, where the
Wizard was wont to sit.
The Cave Hall was filled with Imps, some clustered in groups, whispering
together; some lolling idly upon the soot cushions that lay about the
floor; some peeping stealthily from behind the heavy curtains of soot
with which the walls were hung. But their master was nowhere to be seen.
The Chief Imp went directly to the farther wall and struck upon it with
his wand. Instantly it yawned apart, and an inner corridor was revealed.
This part of the cave was strange to the Shadow Witch, but she entered
boldly and followed her guide without fear through many winding ways and
secret chambers, until at last he paused before a second wall. He struck
upon it, as he had upon the other. It opened, in its turn, and she saw
before her a room more profoundly dark than any that they had yet passed
through. Its charcoal walls were set about with faintly glowing
lanterns, but so heavy were the soot curtains that surrounded them that
their light was almost quenched.
Here, too, were Imps, one beside each spark lantern, but in the centre
of the room the Shadow Witch saw that which caused her to turn pale with
misgiving, for the Wizard of the Cave was there—not weak or ill, as she
had been led to believe, but recovered and standing in the fulness of
his strength.
Beholding him thus, she knew that he intended mischief against her;
knew, also, that for her safety she must show no sign of fear. “After
all,” she thought, “my own magic will protect me. Never has it been less
potent than his. It will not fail me now.”
She lifted herself to her full height and stood tall and beautiful
before him, her rich black hair falling like a mantle over her
shoulders, her eyes gleaming like stars through the dusk. “So, you have
deceived me, brother,” she said coldly. “I might have known that it
would be so.”
“Even as you have deceived me,” retorted the Wizard, bending a look of
malice upon her. “But you have been clever once too often, my sister.
Did you think that I could not guess that it was you who made it
possible for the stranger prince to steal upon me unawares with his
Sword of Flames? Do I not know your trick of the moving curtain of
shadow? It was that which screened him from my eyes until it was too
late for me to destroy him. It was yourself who told him when to
unsheath his sword. It was you, then, who made me suffer. But now my
time has come to repay you—to make you feel the wrath of the Wizard of
the Cave.”
The Shadow Witch laughed scornfully. “I fear you not,” she cried. “Have
I not magic of my own, ay, as great even as yours, that will serve to
protect me against your enchantments. I defy you, then, magician though
you are. You cannot harm me.”
Her words were bold, but fear clutched at her heart in spite of them.
Here in this deepest part of the Wizard’s Cave, surrounded by his
servants, and distant from her own, what would become of her if her
magic failed before his? She knew that it would be folly to stay and
test it. She determined to escape while there was yet time.
With a rush she attempted to dart past him, but in vain. He stretched
his long arms and caught her to him, and though she struggled
desperately against him, he held her fast.
“Away with the lights,” shouted the Wizard hoarsely.
Obediently the Imps snatched the lanterns from the walls and vanished
with them in haste, leaving the Shadow Witch alone with her brother,
wrapped in deepest darkness. By what means he wrought upon her there she
could not tell, for she could neither see his face, nor hear his words.
She only knew that suddenly all her magic powers departed from her,
leaving her completely helpless.
In her ears the harsh voice of the Wizard sounded triumphing over her.
“Thus you are repaid in part, my sister, for giving aid to my enemies.
It will be long before you trick me again, for, lest you should try to
give me some fresh proof of your cleverness, I have prepared for you the
darkness of this prison chamber. In it no Shadow can have power, can
work magic. Here you shall remain, until I choose to set you free.”
He released her hands, and she sank weakly down to the floor of the
cavern. She heard his footsteps departing through the darkness and
presently she knew that she was quite alone.
Lying where she had fallen, she waited until a little strength came back
to her. Then she crept from side to side of her prison, groping her way
with her hands, for she could see nothing. She felt the heavy soot
curtains sway beneath her fingers; she felt the walls of charcoal, hard
and unyielding, behind them. It was as if the room were sealed. Thus she
learned that there was no faintest hope for her of escape—that she was,
as the Wizard had said, completely in his power.
Yet she did not give way to despair, for she knew that her servants were
many and faithful. “I will wait patiently,” she whispered to herself.
“It cannot be long, for Creeping Shadow will not forget what I told
her—will not fail to come to my help.”
[Illustration]