Not prisoners who demanded to be led there immediately, while at the same time insulting her.
This Wizard might be full of trickery.
But Sychorax was used to trickery.
She was tricky herself.
“Take me to the stone!” said Xar. “As quickly as your stupid, lumping great Warriors can move in those iron fool-suits of theirs. This is an emergency!”
And then he reached into his breast pocket, and his hands were shaking as he unwrapped Squeezjoos.
Oh, this was terrible. With a lurch of his heart, Xar saw that Squeezjoos was looking worse than ever. He was green as an emerald, trembling all over as if he had the flu, drifting in and out of consciousness, rigid one moment, fever-racked the next. For a second the hairy fairy’s glazed, confused eyes focused as if he knew where he was, and he held up his feverish, shaking little arms in entreaty to Xar and the other Big People. “Help me…” whispered Squeezjoos. “Help me…”
Xar turned to Queen Sychorax.
“I want to save my sprite…” said Xar despairingly.
Queen Sychorax started as she looked at Squeezjoos.
“What happened,” said Queen Sychorax grimly, “to your sprite?”
“He got Witchblood on him,” said Xar.
The Warrior soldiers and citizens gave a great gasp of horror and stood back even farther from the Wizard boy.
Queen Sychorax was a very great Warrior queen, so she would never show fear. But her face turned to a diamond stiffness.
“A Witch, you say?” said Queen Sychorax.
“But Witches are extinct…” said the Deputy to the Chief Guard.
“Liar!” called a Warrior from the crowd. “All Wizards are liars!”
“I saw the Witch dead myself,” said Xar. “It was definitely a Witch. And it gave me—this…”
Xar held up his palm to show the green stain in the middle of it.
“A Witch-stain!” cried the crowd, and they stepped back even farther.
“Cowards!” snapped Queen Sychorax. “According to legend, Witches’ blood is only dangerous if it mixes with YOUR blood! Show me that hand of yours, boy!”
Xar put his hand out again.
Queen Sychorax stared at the green mark. She took a good look at Squeezjoos too, taking the little bundle he was wrapped in out of Xar’s hands and looking at him from all angles.
And then she turned to the crowd.
“It is as I suspected,” said Queen Sychorax, holding up the poor poisoned sprite so that everyone could see him, and then she lifted her gentle voice to one of ringing hardness. “WITCHES ARE NOT EXTINCT, AND THEY HAVE RETURNED TO THE FOREST!”
The crowd recoiled in horror.
“I HAVE BEEN RIGHT TO ARM US AS I HAVE DONE!” cried Sychorax. “Right to increase our sentries, add to our watchtowers.”
To Xar, she said, “Now I see why you might want to visit the Stone-That-Takes-Away-Magic rather urgently, Xar, son of Encanzo. It is, as you say, an emergency, for unless your sprite touches the stone to remove the Witch Magic within the next twenty-four hours, I imagine the sprite will die.”
Sychorax was a noticing sort of person and she certainly noticed the tears in Xar’s eyes when she said those words and the shake of his head.
“No,” whispered Xar, “no, he must not die! He will not! He must not! I will not let him! Don’t worry, Squeezjoos, trust me, I won’t let that happen…” for Squeezjoos, cowering and quaking in the queen’s hands, and staring up at her stern, unrelenting profile, had let out a whimper as he heard these words.
Sychorax sighed sympathetically. “A queen of Warriors must be merciful as well as strong,” she said. “And so I shall take you and your sprite to the stone, and I very much hope for both your sakes that it will not be too late.”
Sychorax handed the bundle containing Squeezjoos to her Deputy, who held him out at arm’s length, shaking, for he did not want to be holding a Witch-poisoned sprite.
“But before I take you there,” said Sychorax sweetly, “I have a few questions to ask you…”
“Uh-oh…” whispered Caliburn. “Be careful, be very careful, Xar, of the questioning of queens…”
“You mentioned that you saw a dead Witch,” said Queen Sychorax. “That interests me extraordinarily, for according to legend, Witches are hard to kill. So—who killed this Witch? And with what?”
There was a silence.
Standing some way behind Queen Sychorax, Wish was waving her arms about frantically to get Xar’s attention, and staring at him in an agonized sort of way.
Xar could see the hilt of the Enchanted Sword poking out from beneath her cloak.
And Wish was mouthing something that looked a bit like: “I’m on your side…”
Was she really on his side? Or wasn’t she? Xar didn’t know.
But in that moment Xar realized that just possibly Wish might have stolen the sword, not because she was a treacherously tricksy traitor of a Warrior, but because she didn’t want the sword to be captured along with Xar.
“I killed the Witch,” said Xar eventually. “With a bow and arrow.”
“Really?” said Queen Sychorax, raising an eyebrow. “For, by complete coincidence, only yesterday I lost a large, ancient Witch-killing sword from my dungeons. It disappeared, POOF! Just like that, and ever since, my Household Defenders have been turning the fort upside down looking for it. Do you know anything about that sword, Xar, son of Encanzo?”
“No,” said Xar.
“A large, ancient sword with the words ‘Once there were Witches… but I killed them’ written on the blade?”
“I’ve never seen a sword like that in my life,” said Xar.
“And do you know where it is now?” said Sychorax disbelievingly.
“No,” said Xar. “How could I when I’ve never seen it in the first place?”
“You lie!” said Sychorax, swift as an adder.
“I’m not lying!” protested Xar.
“I am afraid that you are,” said Queen Sychorax.
I said that Queen Sychorax was a noticing sort of person.
Her sharp, flinty eyes had spotted something sticking out of one of Xar’s pockets—a half-full bottle of “Love-Never-Lies” potion.
“I know you are lying,” said Queen Sychorax, “because that is one of your strange Wizard medicines, which changes color when a person lies.”
She pointed at the bottle, and the liquid inside was a swirl of darkest indigo, the deep purple that indicated that the person who was touching it was telling a lie.
Bother it! thought Xar. She’s as bad as my father… That’s the second time today I’ve been caught out by that beastly love potion. I really must remember not to carry one of the truth drugs around with me; it cramps my style.
But how would a Warrior queen know about the “Love-Never-Lies” potion, and what it did?
“Study your enemy,” said Queen Sychorax, as if Xar had spoken aloud. “It is extremely important to study your enemy very carefully. I know a great deal about you Wizards and your curses and your Wort-cunning and your troublemaking poisons, and this knowledge often comes in useful.”
Queen Sychorax reached forward, removed the bottle of “Love-Never-Lies” potion from Xar’s pocket, and shook it, watching thoughtfully as the liquid turned back to pale red again. “And the fact that you were LYING tells me that you have seen my sword, you do know where it is, and if you wanted to, you could tell me its whereabouts right now… Search the Wizard!”
Very reluctantly, the Warrior guards searched Xar, for they did not really want to go anywhere near a Wizard with a Witch-stain, but they were far too frightened of Queen Sychorax to disobey her orders.
They found plenty of interesting things in Xar’s pockets. Curses and spells and potions and herbs of all sorts.
But no sword.
“Hmm…” said Queen Sychorax. “I wonder what you have done with it. Where is my sword, Xar, son of Encanzo?”
“I refuse to answer!
” said Xar, folding his arms.
“All right, then,” said Queen Sychorax calmly. “I will make a bargain with you. I HAD intended to hold you for ransom. I WAS going to send a message to your father saying that if he ever wanted to see his rude little burglar of a son alive again, he must give himself up to me. Taking away the Magic of the great Wizard Encanzo would be a blow the Wizards would find very hard to recover from.”
Xar flinched in horror.
“But…” mused Queen Sychorax, “if Witches have returned to the forest once more, I really am going to need that Witch-killing sword.
“So,” said Queen Sychorax briskly, “I will be very reasonable. If you give me back my sword, I will take you and your sprite to the Stone-That-Takes-Away-Magic, and then I will not hold you to ransom for your father after all. I will let you and your sprites and your animals go free. How is that for an offer?”
“Do you promise?” said Xar.
“Of course I promise!” snapped Queen Sychorax. “Are you questioning the word of a queen?”
It was a tempting offer.
Xar considered it.
He was trapped. He would never be able to overcome so many Warriors holding him at once, and this would at least get Squeezjoos cured and…
… and then he saw Wish’s face again.
Wish was making anguished eye movements toward the “Love-Never-Lies” potion in Queen Sychorax’s hands.
The liquid had turned so indigo that it was very nearly black.
“You lie!” said Xar, pointing at the “Love-Never-Lies” potion. “You lie, and I refuse your offer!”
Queen Sychorax gave a start and looked down at the bottle. “Dear, dear,” she said good-humoredly, “that was careless of me! And very clever of you, Xar, son of Encanzo. I like an intelligent enemy. It keeps me on my toes.
“You’re quite right, I am lying,” Queen Sychorax admitted.
“I have every intention of holding you to ransom for your father after I’ve taken you to the Stone-That-Takes-Away-Magic, whatever you do or say.”
Wish was so horrified she could not help interrupting. “But… Rule Number Thirteen! A Warrior should never lie!”
Queen Sychorax looked at Wish as though she were a slug.
“Amendment to Rule Thirteen: A queen can break the rules,” said Queen Sychorax, “in pursuit of a higher good.”
Then what, thought Wish, is the point of the rules in the first place?
But she kept that thought to herself.
Queen Sychorax put the “Love-Never-Lies” potion back in Xar’s pocket.
“You are a very disobedient boy, and you obviously have not been treated firmly enough,” said Queen Sychorax. “But I think you will find that I am very firm indeed. You need to be given a lesson, Xar, son of Encanzo, and that is what a prison is for…”
Xar sighed.
Why did everyone want to teach him a lesson? Ranter, his father, Caliburn, and now this horrible queen.
It was very wearing.
“I shall lock you in my prison,” said Queen Sychorax. “And I will not take you or your sprite to the stone,” she continued in a hard voice, “until AFTER you have told me where the sword is. Give the sprite back to the boy!”
With relief, the Deputy handed Squeezjoos back to Xar.
“If you don’t tell me where the sword is, you will have to watch your sprite die in front of you,” said Queen Sychorax. “As soon as you tell me, I will take you and your sprite to the stone. And then I will hold you to ransom, and your father, if he is weak enough to love a rude, disobedient child like you, will come here to save you, and I will remove Encanzo’s Magic too.”
She smiled at Xar. It was a beautiful smile. Whenever she smiled at Wish, which wasn’t often, Wish’s whole world lit up with sunshine. But Xar didn’t appreciate it.
“You and your father and your sprites are all going to lose your Magic, whatever happens,” said Queen Sychorax in that voice as gently soft as a poisoned arrow. “But if you tell me where the sword is, you can at least save your sprite’s life.”
The queen continued, “And you love your sprite, don’t you? Love is always a weakness. So I know you will make the right decision.”
Xar was trapped. What could he do? Everything was getting out of hand. Squeezjoos might die, all through Xar’s fault. His father might lose his Magic, all through Xar’s fault.
“QUEEN OF EVIL! HEART OF ICE! COWARDLY IRON-CLAD LEADER OF THE RABBIT-HEARTS!” shouted Xar, beside himself with anger and fear.
Queen Sychorax reddened with annoyance. Nothing much rattled her; she took threats, trickery, even violence in her stride. However nobody had ever dared to speak to her with Xar’s sheer disrespectful cheek before.
The Warriors secretly admired the bravery of this one small Wizard, who was completely at the mercy of the most ruthless ruler in the forest but was still throwing insults at her with total abandon.
“Take this uncivil little Wizard and his sprites and his animals to cell number 445!” snapped Queen Sychorax.
Xar was putting on a brave and angry front, but inside he was feeling total despair and helplessness.
He fought and bit and struggled, but he was hopelessly outnumbered, and the guards dragged Xar and the snowcats and the sprites away, Xar still cursing Queen Sychorax at the top of his voice:
“YOU’RE SOFTER THAN BUNNY RABBITS! YOU’RE WEAKER THAN WATER! YOU’RE FLUFFIER THAN THE FLUFFIEST LITTLE BABY DORMOUSES, AND MY GRANNY COULD BEAT YOU UP WITH ONE HAND TIED BEHIND HER BACK!”
14. Queen Sychorax ls Disappointed by Her Daughter… Again
Queen Sychorax watched Xar being dragged away, bundled down into the darkness of her dungeons.
“What a rude boy,” she sniffed disapprovingly. “Is it too much to expect Encanzo the Great Enchanter to bring up his son with slightly better manners?”
She turned to her daughter.
“I do hope that if YOU are ever captured by an enemy, Wish,” said Queen Sychorax, “you will maintain your dignity and be civilly polite. Particularly if they are threatening to kill you. It is hardly going to put them off.”
Wish was so confused she didn’t know what to think or feel. On the one hand, she was dreadfully frightened for Squeezjoos; on the other, of course her brilliant, splendid, intelligent mother wouldn’t ever do anything that was wrong…
Would she?
Surely her mother wasn’t going to allow Squeezjoos to die?
“You’re not going to let any harm come to Xar’s sprite, are you, Mother?” said Wish. “You’re going to take them to the stone in time, so he can be cured, aren’t you?”
“That is none of your business,” snapped Queen Sychorax.
“But it’s not the sprite’s fault that he got Witchblood on him… You saw how frightened he was, poor little thing,” protested Wish.
“Sprites and Wizards are Magic, and Magic is bad, so it does not matter if the sprite was frightened and you should not be concerned about their fate anyway,” said Queen Sychorax waspishly. “Why are you sympathizing with the enemy and how dare you question my decisions? I will do exactly what I think is right.”
Wish hopped guiltily and anxiously from one leg to another. Queen Sychorax’s eyes had narrowed with suspicion. Why was that stupid little Wish looking so conscience-stricken and so upset? Could she be hiding something? Was there more to her hopeless daughter than it seemed at first sight?
“The guards were saying that you captured this rude little Wizard, Wish?” said Queen Sychorax. “You???”
Queen Sychorax always made an effort to speak reasonably kindly to her irritatingly useless daughter, but something about the way she said the word “Wish” always suggested dissatisfaction, as if the word reminded the queen that she wished Wish was a completely different person than she was.
Which indeed she did.
For Wish was a great disappointment to Queen Sychorax. The queen had hoped to have a daughter who was tall and golden like herself, not someone sm
all and scruffy and weird with hair that wouldn’t lie flat and an eyepatch and a limp.
“So, Wish, did you fight this young Wizard and his animal and sprite retinue, and overcome him with your superior Warrior skills?” asked Queen Sychorax skeptically.
Wish, looking up adoringly into her mother’s golden face, longed to be able to say that this was what had happened. How wonderful would it be to see Sychorax’s expression change, so that she looked back at Wish with admiration, with respect, with love!
But her clever mother would never believe her and it might make her so suspicious that she would investigate further and then she might find the sword, and then all would be over for Xar…
“Well, no, Mother,” admitted Wish. “I heard a noise, and I saw it was a Wizard and I was going to try to fight him, but then I fell over and shouted for help.”
The suspicion faded from Queen Sychorax’s eyes, and she now looked merely displeased. That was entirely believable.
“I wouldn’t call that ‘capturing’ the Wizard, would you?” snapped Queen Sychorax. “You fell over and you shouted for help! Falling over is not considered to be one of the traditional Warrior skills, Wish…”
Queen Sychorax looked at Wish’s eyepatch and her limpy leg as if she had lost the use of both of these body parts out of an act of willful disorganization.
“Why you can’t be more like your sisters?”
Wish bit her lip to stop herself from crying. Crying was another of those things that Queen Sychorax considered to be a weakness that Warriors should not indulge in.
“You could choose to follow the example of your sister Drama, for instance,” Sychorax continued. “She has made a quilt out of the beards of dwarves she shot down from a remarkably long distance. I deplore the violence, of course I do, but those sort of teenage high spirits are, after all, the Warrior way—when I was your age I had already hunted down and killed my first giant, all on my own…
“But you have willfully and inexplicably decided to go in an entirely different direction! I’m not sure why you think it’s a good idea to look so ODD… so lopsided… so…”