In one thing the Wizard had spoken truly: Black Shadow was a faithless
servant. As yet she had not dared to attempt to rule over her
fellow-servants, but she longed for such power and was always hoping
that some day she might obtain it. In her heart she rebelled against her
mistress; she would rebel outwardly when it was safe to do so. After a
long time had passed and still the Shadow Witch had not returned, she
began to believe that some evil had overtaken her, and if she could have
been certain of it, it would have pleased her well.
Her companions, becoming alarmed at the prolonged absence of their
mistress, had sought for her diligently in every part of her dominions,
but at last they had been compelled to give up the search. They knew
that Creeping Shadow also had departed, though upon what errand they
could not guess. Now they waited in mournful silence, beneath the
overhanging trees of the garden, hoping that they soon might have
tidings of them both.
Leaving them there Black Shadow walked apart, and as she walked she
pondered ceaselessly as to how soon she might venture to snatch at some
part at least of the power she so greatly desired.
Creeping Shadow, on her homeward way, drawing nigh to the garden, saw
her dark figure stealing solitary among the dim alleys, her head bent
upon her breast, as if in painful thought, but she could not see her
face. “She grieves for the absence of our dear mistress,” said the
faithful servant to herself. “How rejoiced she will be to hear of her
approaching deliverance.” She called to her consolingly: “Black Shadow!
Oh, Black Shadow! I bring good news!”
Hearing the voice, Black Shadow raised her head. Her face, which till
then had been free from grief or anxiety, changed suddenly to that of
one who had sorrowed deeply, and who for the first time hopes. “Good
news?” cried she. “Ah, if it comes from our mistress, tell it quickly!
We have mourned her absence so bitterly and so long!”
With such eagerness did she speak, so sincere was the sound of her
voice, that Creeping Shadow did not suspect her of deceit, but made
haste to tell her of her visit to the Wizard’s Cave, and of all that had
happened since that time.
Black Shadow drank in every word and pretended to be overjoyed. “What is
this gift which the Prince is to receive from the Elf of the
Borderland?” she asked curiously when Creeping Shadow ceased to speak.
“That was not told me,” replied Creeping Shadow. “My duty was but to
lead him to the Elf’s door and there leave him.”
Her companion bit her lip with vexation, because she was unable to
discover the business that had taken Prince Ember to the Elf. The
knowledge would have meant much to her, if she could have gained
possession of it. She said nothing more about the matter, however, but
asked many questions concerning the Prince, and Creeping Shadow,
suspecting no evil, told her all that she could, without reserve.
When Black Shadow saw that she had learned all that her companion had to
tell, she laid her hand upon her arm. “Come,” said she. “We must tell
the others. They, no less than ourselves, have grieved over the absence
of our dearly loved mistress.”
Creeping Shadow was but too eager to do so, and they set out at once.
They had gone but a little way when they came upon all the rest of the
Shadows, still sitting beneath the trees, talking sadly among themselves
with hushed voices.
When their fellow-servants saw the two approaching they sprang quickly
to their feet and hurried toward them, hoping that at last tidings of
the Shadow Witch had come.
Creeping Shadow could not contain herself until they met, but called to
them, “Rejoice! Rejoice, for soon our mistress will return to us again!”
At this glad news they all broke forth into joyful cries and rushed to
her side with rapid and excited questions, and no sooner had she begun
to answer them than Black Shadow, seizing her opportunity, slipped
silently away from them and losing herself among the trees, stole
unobserved out of the garden.
With all speed she took her way to the steep cliff that led to the Cave
of Darkness; swiftly and steadily she mounted it till she came to the
mouth of the cavern. She entered without pause. Strictly as it was
guarded by the Imps whom the Wizard had placed there, that none might
enter to bring help to the Shadow Witch, no one of them challenged Black
Shadow. They knew her and her ways—knew, also, that whatever might be
her errand, she was always a welcome guest to their master. An Imp at
once came to light her way, and she followed his flickering lantern
until she came out at last into the Cave Hall.
There she beheld the Wizard deeply engaged. He sat in his huge armchair
before a table, on which lay an ebony box filled with those wands with
which he worked his darkest magic. He took up the wands, one by one, and
ran his fingers over them carefully to test their power and having
satisfied himself that they were in perfect order, he wrapped each one
separately in a black cloth and laid it back in its place within the
casket.
The Imps were not allowed to come nearer to these wands at any time than
to touch the carefully locked casket as they bore it to and from its
place in their master’s treasure chamber, but they watched the Wizard
from a distance with eyes that twinkled sharply with curiosity as he sat
handling them openly in their presence.
Black Shadow drew near to him, and the Wizard suddenly perceiving her,
swept the remaining wands together abruptly and placed them in the
casket at once. He snapped the lid of it and locked it with a small and
twisted key which he drew from his garments. This done, he gave his
attention to his visitor.
“What is your errand, Black Shadow?” he demanded, leaning back in his
chair, and composing himself to listen.
“I bring strange news,” she replied, taking the seat before him to which
he had waved her. “Creeping Shadow has returned from the Land of Fire,
bringing word that a prince is on his way to deliver the Shadow Witch
from your hands.”
“A prince?” exclaimed the Wizard, starting forward in astonishment.
“Even so,” answered Black Shadow.
“Tell me not that it is Prince Radiance,” he cried vehemently, for
anguish seized him at the memory of the Sword of Flames.
“Nay,” returned she. “It is a stranger prince, Ember by name, who knows
not this land, nor the dangers which lie in wait for him here. What
weapons of defence he possesses, or what his magic, we cannot guess.
This only I can tell you, he is in the home of the Elf of the Borderland
at this moment, there to obtain, perhaps, some gift, or some instruction
which will make him proof against us. Whether or not Creeping Shadow
speaks falsely, she has declared to me that she knows nothing concerning
his business with the Elf.”
“I have no fear of anyone so small and peaceable as the Elf of the
Borderland,” laughed the Wizard contemptuously. “It could not be in his
power to bestow a gift of any worth. As for the prince—my servants shall
redouble their vigilance at the Cave Mouth. He cannot pass them.”
“Be not too sure of that,” Black Shadow warned him. “Of the magic of
these fairies of the Fire we know nothing. If he possesses some
enchantment by which he can pass your guards unseen, if he should find
and liberate your sister, and escape with her from your Cave—what then?
Shall one who has foiled you thus be allowed to return unmolested to his
own land?”
For a short space the Wizard sat plunged in thought, for he knew well
that beyond the boundaries of his Cave he had no power. But presently he
spoke. “I have friends who will prevent that,” he declared confidently.
“Curling Smoke waits but the word to engage himself against any who come
from the Land of Fire. The Ash Goblin needs no urging against my sister.
Too often she has made sport of him, until he has not known which way to
turn for anger. And as to the Wind in the Chimney, merely to speak to
him is to gain his consent to swoop down at once upon any adventurer
into our lands. Seek these friends of mine, Black Shadow, and bid them
lie in wait for this bold prince. Say to them that the Wizard of the
Cave relies upon their aid.”
Black Shadow rose, well pleased. With all hope of liberty for the Shadow
Witch destroyed, she saw her way to power. “I will be your willing
messenger,” she said. She turned away and followed by the piercing
glances of the Imps, she left the Cave Hall, and a little later again
passed by the guards at the Cave Mouth and came into the open country
without.
There she glanced about her, hoping to catch sight of those whom she
sought. She did not look in vain, for almost immediately the giant,
Curling Smoke, uncurled his tall form from a deep chasm in the cliff
close by and towered high above her, blocking the way.
“Whither do you go, Black Shadow?” demanded he haughtily. “You cannot
pass until you answer.”
“I have no wish to pass, for it is yourself whom I seek,” she returned.
“What is it that you desire?” he asked ungraciously, for he was no
friend to the Shadow Witch and made naught of her servants.
“I bring a message from the Wizard of the Cave,” replied she. “He
desires your assistance. Because of an ill turn that she served him, he
holds his sister prisoner, and Creeping Shadow, knowing that it would be
vain to ask any of the powerful ones in our own land to rescue her,
journeyed to the Land of Fire to ask aid of Prince Radiance.”
At the very mention of Prince Radiance, whom he hated, Curling Smoke
twisted himself about in a violent rage. “Let him not dare to return
here, lest I make short work of him!” he shouted hoarsely. “Let him not
flatter himself that he can escape me this time as he did before.”
“It is not Prince Radiance who comes, but another; that one, so Creeping
Shadow tells me, who alone is fated to set the Shadow Witch free. Prince
Ember is his name, and even now he is close by, in the house of the Elf
of the Borderland, there to receive from him, doubtless, something which
will aid him to deliver my mistress, and make him proof against any who
assail him, or who may seek to prevent his success.”
Curling Smoke laughed loud and disdainfully. “What has the Elf to give
that could avail against me and my magic?” he exclaimed. “You amuse me,
Black Shadow. Go to that weakling, the Ash Goblin, with such tales, if
you will, but do not bring them to Curling Smoke.”
“I repeat only what has been told me,” returned Black Shadow. “Whether
or not it is true, I know not. I have come to you for one thing only—to
obtain a promise for the Wizard that you will engage yourself against
this prince, wherever you may encounter him.”
Again Curling Smoke laughed, and his huge shape swayed boastfully from
side to side. “You have little need to doubt my answer,” he replied. “Do
I not hate these strangers from the Land of Fire with all my heart? Am I
not only too eager for an excuse to do them harm? Return, then, to the
Wizard, and say to him that he need have no fear that this prince will
escape me. Say to him that Curling Smoke—greatest of all magicians,
promises that it shall not be.”
This said, Curling Smoke settled again into a cleft from whence he could
watch the entire Plain of Ash. No one could approach him from thence
without being seen by him.
Black Shadow assured of the vigilance of this powerful ally, departed at
once to seek the Ash Goblin, whose low mean hovel stood at some distance
away among the ash mounds of the plain.
So despised is the Ash Goblin that few ever seek his door, and when he
heard upon it the sharp knock of Black Shadow, he started with surprise.
He crept across the dingy floor, and put his bulging eye to the keyhole
to peer through, and discover who stood without. His astonishment at
seeing Black Shadow was great, for never had she sought him out before,
but he knew that he had no reason to fear her, so he opened to her at
once.
She came in, and without waiting to be invited sank down into a seat.
The Ash Goblin made fast the door, and as he did so he turned his crafty
head to her and inquired her errand. She told him all.
“Well may you come to me,” he assured her. “I have long desired to
revenge myself upon your impudent mistress. Often she has made sport of
me with her tricking shadows. Often she has even dared to make my own
form flicker and dance before me—not as it is—indeed, but twisted and
misshapen to please her own mischievous fancy.” His eyes glinted with
malice, and Black Shadow was well pleased to find him so willing to give
his help.
“Then I will count upon you,” she said rising. “As I have told you, the
Prince is now in the Elf’s house. If you are wise, you will go and hide
yourself near it, and seize your chance to attack him as soon as he
leaves its shelter.”
“The Wizard need have no fear,” retorted the Ash Goblin. “I will surely
not miss so good an opportunity to avenge myself upon his sister.”
This ally also having been gained, Black Shadow bade him farewell, and
went to the Wind in the Chimney.
Wide is the Chimney Mouth, which gives entrance to the Wind’s dwelling,
for a giant must come and go through it. This entrance is dark, and
yawning, and perilous, and none dares enter it except at the Wind’s
will.
The voice of the Wind is loud when he laughs in glee, but it is louder a
thousandfold when he howls with rage, and when he sweeps down from his
high seat in the Chimney and rushes out into the lands beyond, whistling
or shrieking as he goes, he drives all before him, whether they will or
no.
Today the Wind rested in his home, on the great rough bench which was
his favorite seat, and Black Shadow had but to ask of the Breezes who
loitered about the Chimney Mouth whether she might go into the Wind’s
presence, to have her request granted immediately. Seldom did she trust
herself to such boisterous company, but the occasion was urgent. So she
entered, though not without some uneasiness, and went on and up the
rough uneven way, till she reached the huge cranny in the Chimney where
the Wind sat, humming a whining song to himself, as he lounged against
the Chimney wall.
He gave her no courteous greeting when she stood before him, but
stretched his mighty arm and shoved her unceremoniously into a seat not
far from himself. “What do you come to ask of me? Out with it quickly,”
he growled, with some impatience, for Black Shadow had not dared to
speak at once, but sat in silence for a moment considering how best to
deliver the message of the Wizard so that it might meet with favor.
Thus commanded, however, she delayed no longer and presently had told
her story to the end.
The Wind heard her with unconcealed pleasure. “Ho, ho!” he howled,
puffing his round cheeks till they seemed like to burst. “We shall have
great sport with this bold prince when he ventures forth from the Elf’s
dwelling. He shall nowhere be safe from me, for I am the Wind in the
Chimney, and nothing stops or stays me in what I set out to do. Prince
Ember has no magic that will be proof against me, and so far as anything
that the Elf can do for him goes, I scorn it.” So confident was he that
he laughed till the Chimney shook and rattled, and the soot that lined
its walls fell thick over the head and shoulders of his guest.
Hearing their master’s uproarious laughter, the Breezes came stealing in
to discover its cause, but the Wind frowned upon them and buffeted them
to right and left so sternly that they rushed quickly out again without
daring to speak.
The Wind turned to Black Shadow. “Go back to the Wizard,” he commanded
her gruffly. “Tell him that the Chimney shall fall in ruins, and the
Wind himself become as the faintest of his Breezes before this stranger
prince succeeds in his purpose of setting free the Shadow Witch.”
He shook his mantle, he tossed his great shaggy head and whistled
loudly. “I am the Wind—the Wind in the Chimney! Heugh, heugh! Ho, ho!
Heugh, heugh!”
Pursued by his braggart whistlings and the hoarse echoings of his mirth,
Black Shadow left him and hurried back to the Wizard’s Cave to make
known to him the success of her mission.
[Illustration]