The Hollow Kingdom (24 page)

Kate, wet and chilled, scrambled up the crumbly shoreline, her dress front and shoes covered with sandy silt. She shivered in the cold wind blowing over the lake, but she had never been so happy before. The entire vast sky was above her. Moonlight flooded her, inside and out. She thought she could probably fly.

"You are in danger, King's Wife!" buzzed the infuriated snake. "In danger of catching pneumonia." But Kate ignored her unusual companion as she squelched toward the village.

She slept the remainder of that night in an old woman's cottage. Those wise eyes took one look at her lavish jewelry, her elvish beauty, and her painted golden snake, and they drew their own conclusions. Kate decided unhappily that there would be a folktale about her soon.

In the morning, the woman left the cottage to hail the post coach for her. When she was gone, Kate called out, "Snake?" in a low voice. There was a rattling zing as the golden object uncoiled once more.

"Not a snake! Not a snake!" it buzzed in some disgust. "I was a sword before I was anything, and now I'm a magical charm."

"But you look like a snake," protested Kate. "We humans judge on appearance."

"Forty-eight of the King's Wives have been humans," it replied. "Nothing they do would surprise me."

"Well, what should I call you, then?" asked Kate sensibly. "Do you have a name?"

"I am the King's Wife Charm," it hissed royally. "That is my name and my function."

"That's a little hard to say, all at once," said Kate. "I'll just call you Charm." She looked at the snake a little doubtfully as she said this. It was a great many things, but it was not charming. "I'm traveling in the human world today. I don't want them to stare at you and ask questions. Can't you be a little less conspicuous?"

The snake weaved back and forth before her face. She hated this; it made her dizzy. "One hundred and twenty-seven King's Wives have been embarrassed to be seen with a snake around their necks," it buzzed, but it whisked out of sight down her sleeve.

Kate hurried to the coach as it stopped by the cottage. "No bags, miss?" asked the freckled coachman, helping her in. Kate sat down on the hard leather seat and looked around. A large, fleshy woman and a rather beefy man sat across from her in the coach. The man was reading a paper and barely glanced over, but the woman was eyeing her with interest. Under her gaze, Kate colored up. What a sight she must be! The yellow silk gown, lovely yesterday, was crumpled and stained with mud. Accustomed to the underground, she hadn't realized that it was early winter and had brought no wrap, so the old woman had persuaded her to accept a patched black coat. To top it off, the amount of jewelry she wore was by English standards truly shocking. Kate sighed. She shouldn't have scolded the snake. It couldn't have made her look more bizarre than she did already.

"You poor, poor girl!" exclaimed the woman in a loud, penetrating voice. "What on earth happened to you?"

Kate blushed more deeply as she considered her answer. Having lived so long with the goblins, she hated to lie. "I had an accident while traveling," she said at last. "I almost drowned. I don't have any other clothes to change into."

"Oh, my poor dear," boomed the woman. Kate suspected that the horses could hear her. "You'll catch your death of pneumonia! How far are you traveling, you poor thing?"

"I'm going to Liverpool," replied Kate, glad of a simple answer.

"That's wonderful!" declared the woman. "We are, too! What's your name?"

"My--my name?" stammered Kate. "I'm Kate, I mean Catherine Wins--or Miss Wins--well, Mrs. Marak, I suppose. But please," she added, mortified, "you may call me Kate."

"My dear, you're not well!" exclaimed the woman. "The shock! We must put you up at an inn the next time we change horses."

"No," said Kate hurriedly. "My husband is ill, and I have to get to Liverpool right away."

"Hurrying to his bedside, no doubt," stated the woman. "Married so young! Whatever were you thinking! Do tell me all about him."

Kate stared at her in horror. Tell her all about a goblin? "I--well--um," she stammered hopelessly. The woman watched her, fascinated.

"Tell me how you met," she insisted stridently. Kate took a breath and thought this over.

"My sister and I were lost in a storm," she said, "and he led us back to our house."

"How romantic!" cried the woman. "And you lost your heart to him right away!"

"Not right away," averred Kate, remembering his sarcastic comments as she slogged home in the dark beside his horse.

"Oh, come! He swept you off your feet, I suppose!" exclaimed the woman.

"Well, he tried," admitted Kate with a helpless giggle.

"Young and handsome, no doubt!" Kate thought about this.

"He's not young," she said, "but he doesn't look that old." Handsome? Marak? Best not to say anything.

"And where do you live?" demanded the woman. Kate's head was beginning to throb.

"Where do we live?" she gasped. Under Hill, under lake, locked behind magical doors. "Not--not far from where the horses stopped." Too late, Kate realized that the woman couldn't possibly believe her. If she lived so close, she could have gone home to change clothes.

"You poor, poor thing," the woman commented emphatically.

Wonderful, thought Kate. Now she thinks I'm crazy.

When she staggered out of the carriage that evening, Kate felt sure she knew every moment of the woman's life from birth. She had an intimate acquaintance with the furnishings in her home, the local shopkeepers' best bargains, and the grandchildren's childhood diseases. Kate's head pounded, and she longed to be home among the goblins. They would never have dared to pummel the King's Wife with so much boring talk.

"Charm!" she called, standing in a corner of the inn yard. The snake uncoiled from her arm with a little zing.

"Thirty-six of the King's Wives have been fat," it commented quietly. "Twenty-four have been loud. Eight have been fat and loud," it added in a soft whisper.

"I couldn't be more sorry," said Kate with a shudder. "Charm, should I stay here tonight and travel tomorrow? It will take three days to reach Liverpool if I stop at night."

"You should not be outside the kingdom," whispered the snake. After her awful day, Kate heartily agreed. "Travel at night. Then you will be home sooner."

"That's a good idea," murmured Kate. "Charm, has this ever happened before?"

"Yes," hissed the snake softly. "Two other King's Wives have been outside without the King's permission. One no longer had a King. He was dead, and she was awaiting the birth of the Heir. The other was in danger when the Kingdom Spells gave way and her King was far from home. And one King's Wife traveled by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman during the migration. But it is true," it whispered, "that you are the first King's Wife to travel by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman and without the King's permission."

"No, that's not what I meant," said Kate impatiently. "I mean, has the King ever been held prisoner under an enchantment before?"

The snake had no shoulders, but it managed to convey a shrug. "Why would I remember that?" it buzzed. "Do I guard Kings? I do not worry about the minor details of Kings' lives. I only remember what is important."

"No bags?" he asked in astonishment, and she repeated her explanation about the near drowning. "Then I'll ask the innkeeper to give you a blanket or two. You'll be cold in the carriage, miss.
And since we're driving straight through, you'll need a pillow. Don't worry, miss, I'll take care of everything."

"How thoughtful!" exclaimed Kate, looking admiringly into those dark eyes. There was nothing like the human race after all. "But what about you? You'll be so tired. They tell me the trip will take until late tomorrow night."

"Oh, never mind me, miss," said Bingham. "I do this all the time. Besides," he added, gazing at her warmly, "I think it will be a rewarding experience."

Bingham was as good as his word. Armed with more gold pieces, he made sure she lacked for nothing on the way. The views became steadily uglier as they approached their destination, and the winter twilight fell long before they reached Liverpool. Kate had not enjoyed the port city when she had seen it with her father. This time she found herself even more disheartened at the close streets, the choking smoke hanging in the air, and the pressing crowds of ragged people. Hordes of beggar children chased the carriage until Bingham used his long whip to drive them away. Kate's father had explained to her about the poor people who poured into the city, hoping to find work on the docks or in the huge textile mills. Nine-year-olds might work twelve hours a day at the weaving machines, losing fingers or even their lives to the machinery when their fatigue made them careless.

Tired and depressed, Kate began to long for the end of the journey. Soon they would be at the inn. The carriage stopped, and Kate peered out the little window in the door. They were in a dark, narrow alley lined by ugly brick buildings with unusually large doors. They looked like the warehouses that she and her father had driven through near the harbor docks. Trash glistened in the puddles on the rough cobbled street. Bingham, his handsome face tired and grave, opened the door and helped her out.

"Where's the inn? I don't see a single soul," Kate remarked. Bingham didn't respond. As she turned around, she saw him step toward her, a long knife shining in his hand. The horrified Kate felt a rustling zing, and Bingham stopped, shuddered, and fell over backward. He lay motionless, his big brown eyes still watching her as the knife slid from his grasp. The golden snake wove above his body, metallic fangs glistening.

"I have just bitten a man," announced Charm with arrogant contentment. "There he lies, awaiting the King's Judgment." Kate stared at the treacherous young man in astonishment. She had never thought villains could be quite so handsome and considerate. But she remembered the look in his eyes when he saw the gold pieces and her many costly rings and bracelets. She didn't need to ask why he had done it.

Kate was struck by a sudden thought. "Charm," she said, "the King told me once that if you had to bite me, you would go find him to report that I had been foolish."

"That is quite right," whispered the snake. "I do not leave the King's Wife unless I must, but if she is where she will not quickly be found, my bite endangers her. Then I myself seek the King for her. I have had to leave eighty-seven King's Wives alone. It is never good. They are not safe without me."

"Then does your magic tell you where the King is?" asked Kate.

"Yes, if he is close enough."

"Charm, we are in the city of the sorcerer," said Kate, "and the King will be with him. Is he close enough for you to find?"

The golden snake twirled slowly up one of Kate's arms and down the other. Then it wound itself around and around her neck, climbing into her hair. Finally it dropped back to her shoulder, hissing like a boiling teakettle.

"Yes," it announced grandly. "I have found the King. He is very near."

Kate left the paralyzed coachman lying in the alley by his carriage, his dark eyes following her as she walked away from him. Her magical bracelet lit up puddles and weeds as she picked her way along the filthy streets lined with vacant warehouses. Kate had never seen such a disreputable place. All her instincts told her to run away as fast as she could. But the King's Wife Charm rode her shoulders like a stylish piece of jewelry, and her husband lay somewhere ahead, held prisoner by powerful magic. Kate sighed. Her childhood friends probably never had days like this.

Charm hissed and tugged her into the shadows. A few seconds later, a thickset figure plodded silently past them, not even looking their way. "That was Thaydar!" said Kate. She hurried up behind the burly goblin, but he didn't turn around. When she tried to tug on his coat, her hand passed right through him without encountering anything solid at all, but in another second, the dematerialized goblin reached a door in a crumbling brick building and jerked it open decisively. He might be air, but his grip was as strong as ever.

Kate caught the closing door as Thaydar went through it and stepped into a narrow, leaky hallway lined with brick walls. The ground was covered with wet paper and decaying trash. Beetles skittered softly along the walls and among the moldy papers, fat, sleek, and smoothly black. Her attention caught by the large bugs, Kate tugged her gown off the floor. Then she realized that she was alone. Thaydar had come through this door just seconds ago, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Kate stepped gingerly down the nasty space, trying to avoid the puddles and insects. A large gray rat hurried along the wall beside her, intent on business of his own. Charm watched him closely, but he made no threatening moves. As Kate neared the end of the hallway, she saw a door to her left. She was reaching for its handle, feeling very concerned about what might be beyond it, when a small
child burst out crying practically in her ear. Kate jumped and whirled around. Charm whisked out of sight, hugging her arm tightly, but its coils didn't collapse into a resting state. Kate approved of its judgment. This was no place to rest.

The child continued to wail pathetically. Kate looked up and down the hallway and held her bracelet toward the stained and spider-hung wooden rafters, but she saw no sign of it. In another minute, the door swung open beside her. Kate turned, almost falling as she slipped on a fat bug. A man stood in the doorway.

"Welcome, my dear!" he said in a gravelly voice. "Always a pleasure to have pretty callers. You're looking for the baby, aren't you? Why don't you hold your magical jewelry a little higher and look at the wall there?"

Feeling that her lighted bracelet was rather unfortunately conspicuous, Kate nevertheless did as he suggested. At first she recoiled, seeing what appeared to be a large spider on the wall. Another moment's examination and Kate felt distinctly sick. A shriveled, skeletal little hand was nailed into the brick beside her. Kate dropped her arm and turned back to the man, completely disgusted.