Beautifulis the Land of Glowing Embers, near to the Palace of King Red Flame. When morning dawns, a light soft and rosy bathes its castles and its gardens. At noonday, its pale sweet glow burns to a richer glory, and a flush of deepest rose ascends over turrets and blossoming trees. With nightfall, a purple splendor settles over all things while its peaceful fairies sleep. Set in the midst of it is the home of Prince Ember, the fairy palace of Good Cheer.
In his favorite room in the palace Prince Ember sat alone, in deep thought. Spread open upon the table before him was a thick volume, written in the ancient fairy language, filled with tales of fairy adventure of a far off time. As he read and pondered them, his heart was filled with longing that he, too, might go upon some dangerous quest, might win some noble victory. His domain was quiet. His servants were happy and at peace. He knew of nothing that could call him forth.
Tall and straight of limb and very handsome was this prince of the Land of Glowing Embers. Ruddy gold was his hair, like the fire when it glows most richly. His eyes were bright and kind. The cloak that hung from his shoulders was deep red and fell over red garments of yet deeper hue. From his round redcap a black feather drooped to mingle with the glory of his hair.
As yet he had no princess, for as yet he had seen none who stirred his heart, though for want of her he was sometimes lonely, even in his Palace of Good Cheer.
The fairies of his dominions loved him well and served him with zeal, for none was kinder, none more nobly just, than their own Prince Ember.
Sitting in his palace on this summer evening, he remembered the brave deeds which Prince Radiance had lately done,—deeds not less splendid than these which were written in this ancient book.
And while he sighed, because he felt that for him there could be no such high adventures, Rushing Flame was speeding toward his palace, on the errand of the King. The messenger gave no heed,in his swift passing, to the loveliness of the land, but turning neither to right nor left, came straight to the arched and golden gate that gave entrance to the gardens of the Prince.
Like an arrow he sped through it and on to the palace door. An Ember Fairy opened to his knock and, when he told his business, led him quickly to the Prince.
“Your Highness,” he announced, “Rushing Flame is here, with a message from the King.”
“Speak, Rushing Flame,” commanded the Prince. “What word do you bring me from His Majesty?”
“That you will come to him at once,” the messenger replied. “There are important matters that require your presence.”
“Know you aught of what these matters may be?” demanded Prince Ember.
“This much only I may tell you, Your Highness. They concern a dangerous and difficult adventure. More than this you must learn from the King himself,” answered Rushing Flame.
Prince Ember sprang to his feet, his eyes kindling with eagerness. “See that my horse is brought quickly to the palace door,” he cried to the Ember Fairy, who still lingered near, “for I go in haste to my uncle, the King.”
The fairy obeyed, and presently the hoof-beats of the ruddy charger that bore the Prince resounded on the road that led to the Palace of Burning Coals.
A good steed and a swift, was he. Before Rushing Flame, with all his speed, had gone half the distance homeward, the Prince alighted at the door of hisuncle’s palace and a moment later presented himself before the King.
“Ah, my dear Ember,” exclaimed King Red Flame, grasping his hand, “your presence is most earnestly desired, for there has come to us a servant of the Shadow Witch, beseeching help for her mistress, who now lies captive to her brother, the Wizard of the Cave of Darkness. This punishment he inflicts upon her, because of her kindness to Prince Radiance and my daughter. Gladly would Prince Radiance prove his gratitude by hasting to her deliverance, but the Wise One has declared that it would be in vain—has declared that it is yourself, and none other, who is fated to set her free. Since this is so, is it your desire to go upon this adventure?”
“Ah, Your Majesty!” cried Prince Ember, his countenance glowing withardor, “no task could be more welcome. I am ready to set forth immediately.”
The King was greatly pleased, and Creeping Shadow, her anxious fears at rest, bowed herself at Prince Ember’s feet in gratitude too deep for speech. The hearts of Prince Radiance and Princess White Flame overflowed with joy since the deliverance of the Shadow Witch seemed now assured, and their happiness was reflected in the faces of all the fairies gathered there.
King Red Flame spoke again. “That your success in this adventure may be made certain, you must first go to the Wise One and receive his instructions. If you obey them, he assures me that you cannot fail.”
“I will give good heed to them,” Prince Ember promised him.
So saying he took his leave and followedby Creeping Shadow, set out on foot for the home of the Wise One.
The queer little hut where the Wise One lived was not far off, and soon they stood before its door. Creeping Shadow looked with astonishment at its bright red walls, covered with magic inscriptions, whose meaning was hidden from all but the Wise One. She beheld with amazement the chimneys, like lighted torches, that topped its roof and the blazing flame-bushes that surrounded it. When the Prince knocked on the quaintly carved door and entered at the Wise One’s word, she drew back quickly and seated herself under a flame-bush until he should again appear.
Within the hut the Prince found the aged fairy awaiting him. “Hail, Prince Ember,” said he, rising to greet him. “You go upon a noble quest.”
“I go gladly,” replied the Prince, and the words came from his heart.
“You must not go unprepared,” returned the Wise One. “Upon those fairy gifts that you carry with you, upon the use that you make of them, the success of your adventure depends.”
“And what shall these gifts be?” inquired the Prince.
“First of all, a sword,” was the instant answer. “A fairy sword of power.”
“Alas!” sighed the Prince. “That I do not possess.”
“It can be provided,” returned the Wise One, smiling. He stepped to an ancient chest, deeply carved with mystic signs, that stood quite by itself in a corner of the hut. From out that chest many magic gifts had come, when need was great. Filled to the brim with treasures as it always was, none saw aughtwithin but those gifts which were for his own use.
The Wise One bent down and fitted a key in the lock. After its manner the key turned of itself in the lock; after its manner the lid rose of itself upon its huge hinges.
“Come,” said the Wise One, “and behold your sword.”
Prince Ember stepped quickly to his side. Before his eyes, close sheathed in its shining scabbard, lay the fairy sword of power. A thrill of awe passed through him at the sight.
“Take it,” commanded the Wise One.
The Prince lifted it out, and as he unsheathed it, at the Wise One’s word, it filled the hut with a burning glow. Heat, intense and ardent, streamed from it, making warm the air.
“This is the Sword of Fire,” the ancientfairy told him. “As potent it will be in your hands and for your use, as was the Sword of Flames in the hands of Prince Radiance. In every danger that you must meet, over every obstacle that you must encounter, save one, it will be victorious.”
Prince Ember’s heart beat fast. “And for that other?” he asked eagerly.
“For that, also, I have a gift,” was the answer. “Look within the chest once more and you will see.”
Leaning down the Prince peered into the dimness of the chest. “There is a small round box,” he said.
“Take it, and open it,” commanded the Wise One.
Obediently Prince Ember drew it forth and undid its clasp. He looked within and saw a bit of charcoal, black and glistening; nothing more. He regardedit with astonishment. “What power has this to help me?” he inquired.
“Its power is great,” returned the Wise One, gravely. “Guard it with care. When escape for yourself and for the Shadow Witch seems impossible, take it out, and cast it boldly into the midst of the danger that threatens you, and by its good spell your way to safety will be made clear.”
The Prince thanked him. He closed the box, and placed it carefully in his breast.
“In order that you may succeed in this undertaking,” continued his adviser, “you must be able to reach the prison of the Shadow Witch unseen. You know, as well as I, that among the good fairies of the Fire, only the Ember Fairies have power to become entirely invisible. Within the Wizard’s Cave your ownmagic will serve to make you so, but in the Plain outside you must have the Cloak of Ash.”
“This, also, you will give me?” demanded the Prince with quickening breath.
“Nay, I have it not,” answered the Wise One, shaking his head. “Only the Elf of the Borderland can bestow this upon you, for he alone, together with his elves, possesses the secret of its making. Moreover it must be woven in the presence of him who is to wear it; otherwise it has no power. Go to him and ask it. He will not refuse you. Creeping Shadow, who knows where he is to be found, will guide you to him. Do in all things as I have advised you, and you will not fail.”
So Prince Ember, with grateful words bade the Wise One good-bye and departedwith his gifts, and as he left the hut, Creeping Shadow arose from her seat beneath the flame-bush and came to walk beside him and guide him to the Borderland.
Quite alone, in the Borderland, stands the house of the good grey Elf. Its door was fast shut and its windows closed when Prince Ember and Creeping Shadow approached it. The thick thatch of ash which covered its roof and came low down upon its walls so concealed it from view, that had he been without his companion to guide him, the Prince might have sought for it long in vain.
When they had reached it, Creeping Shadow stood still. “This is the house of the Elf,” she said. Then, turning, she pointed to a high black cliff that rose in the distance. “And yonder is the Cave of Darkness, where the Wizarddwells, and my poor mistress lies imprisoned. As soon as you have left the Elf, lose no time in reaching her, I beg of you, for the Wizard is very cruel, and I know not what he may do to her if help is long delayed. When you have climbed the steep path which leads up the cliff-side, you will behold the entrance to the cavern yawning before you. As for myself, I shall return now to the Land of Shadows, to await in hope the homecoming of my mistress.”
She turned again and struck upon the Elf’s door thrice. It was the signal of the servants of the Shadow Witch. In silence the door swung open, and the Prince set his foot upon the threshold.
“Farewell, noble and generous Prince,” murmured Creeping Shadow. “Good speed, and a safe return.”
“Farewell,” said Prince Ember. “Restconfident that I shall bring home the Shadow Witch in triumph.” He passed within, and as silently as it had opened, the door closed upon him.
Alone,in the deep darkness of her prison, sat the Shadow Witch growing paler and sadder every day. She was beginning to fear that after all Creeping Shadow could do nothing to help her, for how could she ever penetrate to this dungeon, with its thick walls that hemmed her in. She doubted not that the Wizard kept the entrance to the Cave closely guarded; indeed he had told her that it was so.
Daily her food was brought to her bythe Chief Imp, who grew more and more impertinent to her. Daily her brother came to taunt her with her weakness—with his own power over her. Proudly as she bore herself, she could not but dread his coming, could not but wonder what he might still have in store for her of punishment and suffering.
Never before had she so hated the evil magic of the Wizard and his friends; and even her own magic, which she had always used more in mischief than with evil in her heart, had grown detestable to her.
The longing to escape became so great that she could hardly endure it, but with each visit from her brother, her hope of freedom became less and less, so scornfully did he laugh at her when she demanded to know when she should be set at liberty.
One day, as she sat thinking bitterly of the hardness of her lot, she heard once again the sound of approaching footsteps, and, immediately after, the wall parted, and her brother entered. The lanterns of the Imps who came with him, cast but a dim light in the thick darkness, yet faint as it was, the Shadow Witch felt herself revive a little. She gathered up all her strength and rose to face the Wizard defiantly. In silence the Imps flocked in and ranged themselves along the soot-hung walls. The Wizard advanced toward his sister with his cruel smile.
“Well, my clever sister,” he asked her jeeringly, “how fares it with you now, in this pleasant resting-place?”
The dark eyes of the Shadow Witch rested coldly upon his face, but she vouchsafed him no reply.
“Here, it is true, you have no special opportunity to do further mischief,” continued the Wizard, “and that is a hardship for you, to be sure. But you have plenty of time for repentance, which you need far more. As for your Land of Shadows, word has come to me that your servant, Black Shadow, holds sway in your absence. Nay, more, that she rejoices in her power, and is none too eager for your return.”
Still the Shadow Witch made no reply. She did not doubt what he said, for she knew well the boldness and insolence of Black Shadow, but she would not gratify him by showing that she cared in the least.
“And Creeping Shadow,” he went on, “that other servant in whom, above all the rest, you have had confidence, she,also, has joined herself to Black Shadow, and obeys her in all things.”
“In that I know you speak falsely,” retorted the Shadow Witch. “There is none more faithful to me than Creeping Shadow. Nothing could turn her away from her loyalty to me. I have many other servants, also who love me, and serve me well.”
“She did not show herself loyal when she sought me in my Cave not long since,” observed the Wizard, stroking his dingy beard with a slow hand. “At first she did indeed pretend to desire your freedom; at first she wept and pleaded with me for your release, as though she were in earnest, but when she found that I gave no heed to her, she cast off all disguise, and showed plainly that she rejoiced in your imprisonment. She even went so far as to try to bargain withme to hold you here. She needed not to bargain, my good sister, for nothing could change my purpose toward yourself. I have determined that in this prison you shall find all of home or kingdom that will be yours for many a day.”
“Naught that you can say would serve to convince me that Creeping Shadow is a traitor,” she answered. “Why should I trust your word in place of what I know of her? The day of my deliverance may be far off, the way of its accomplishment may be hard, but I shall be freed at last. For this my faithful servants work, as you shall find.”
Still the Wizard sought to stir her, to break down her courage. “How unfortunate it is that you have no prince to aid in this good work,” he taunted. “Such a prince as Radiance, perhaps—he, whom you ran such risks to aid. Buthe has returned to the Land of Fire with his pale princess and will hardly trouble himself now to release you from the punishment that you are enduring because of him.”
Proudly the Shadow Witch raised her head, and for the first time since her imprisonment there were tears in her beautiful eyes. “Whether or no he remembers me in the midst of his joy,” she answered, “Whether or no he will succor me in my need, I shall never be sorry that I helped him to deliver his Princess. He it was who first brought brightness into my dreary land. He it was, who, for the first time in my life, made me to know what it is to be noble. Happy am I, then, even here and now, that it was given me to serve him. Proud am I with a far different pride than any that I have known before.”
The Wizard heard her in amaze. Had his sister taken leave of her senses? What had come over the mischief-loving Shadow Witch that she should speak in this fashion? “You behave strangely, sister,” he replied sharply. “Can it be that it was something more than the mere pleasure of outwitting and injuring me that led you to aid this impudent stranger, enemy to your people and to all who dwell in this land?”
“Ay,” returned the Shadow Witch boldly. “It was indeed something more. I could not see one so brave and good become the victim of your evil magic; nor allow his happiness to be destroyed by those wicked ones who plotted for his destruction. He has awakened me to what we are, and I tell you now that if once I escape from the power of your dark spell, I shall bid you and your friendsfarewell forever. If in my own Land of Shadows I can cause to spring up a better magic than it has known heretofore, it will be well. But if that hope proves vain, I shall forsake my home, and go to that land of brightness and good magic from whence this prince came, and there learn nobler ways and find a truer home.”
At these words of his sister, the Wizard burst forth in such furious rage that his Imps, hearing, shrank back close to the wall of the cavern, trembling with fright. “Miserable creature,” he shouted. “Is it not enough that you have brought suffering upon me, that you should go to the Land of Fire, carrying with you the secrets of all who dwell in this land? Traitor! Until now I had meant to punish you but for a time; but now I know that to release you is to preparemisfortune and betrayal for every one of us. It shall never, never be. You have warned me in time. You have sealed your own doom. Never, while I have power to keep you within these walls, shall you escape to carry out your purpose.”
“You may well say while you have power to keep me,” retorted the Shadow Witch. “Do what you may, I shall yet be freed. Then I shall go where I will.”
Still more enraged by her unshaken defiance, the Wizard sprang upon her and grasped her wrists. He towered above her dark and forbidding. He gave a sharp command to the Imps, and in an instant they had departed with the lanterns. In the thick darkness that followed, the Shadow Witch heard him say nothing more, but she felt that same strange magic stream from his handsthat she had felt on the day that she had first entered her prison, and she became as weak and helpless as she did before.
When he had gone and the wall had closed behind him, she fell to weeping wildly; not for Prince Radiance, whom she should see no more, but for that noble brightness that he had once brought to her eyes, and with the dread in her heart that it would never be hers.
Yet, even as she wept, ever nearer and nearer to the Cave of Darkness came Prince Ember, hasting from the Land of Fire upon the glorious adventure of her deliverance.
Inone 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 theShadow 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 atleast 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 itquickly! 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 Emberto 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 wrappedeach 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 inhis 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 enchantmentby 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 adventurerinto 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 chasmin 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 mymagic?” 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 thisprince 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 BlackShadow 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 thousandfoldwhen 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 tohimself, 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 venturesforth 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 theChimney 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.
WhenPrince Ember said farewell to Creeping Shadow and stepped into the Elf’s house, he found himself in a curious room whose walls were grey with ash, whose floor was covered so thick with it, that his feet sank into it, and made no sound. It was as if he trod on softest down.
In the middle of the room stood the Elf, with pudgy hand extended. “Welcome, good Prince,” he said heartily. “You come on the business of theShadow Witch, for I know the knock of her servant, Creeping Shadow. What is it that you desire?”
“I am on my way to deliver the Shadow Witch,” the Prince made answer, taking his hand. “The Wise One has bade me ask of you a certain marvelous Cloak of Ash, to conceal me from my enemies. He says that here only is the secret of its making known, and that you will not refuse to provide me with it.”
“The Wise One has spoken truly,” returned the Elf, “but he has doubtless told you also that you must wait while this Cloak is woven especially for you.”
“That he has,” replied Prince Ember. “But let it be done quickly, I beg of you, for who can tell what the Shadow Witch may suffer at the hands of her brother if my coming be long delayed.”
“Not a moment shall be lost,” the Elf assured him. Still holding him by the hand, he drew him to a narrow door at the farther end of the room. He opened it, and revealed beyond it the Prince saw a vast chamber, filled with elves hurrying silently to and fro on tasks strange to him. The moment their master entered with Prince Ember, every elf stood still ready to hear and obey whatever command might be given to them.
“Where is the Weaver of the Cloak?” inquired the Elf. “There is work for him to do.”
Instantly a very ancient elf separated himself from his companions, and came to stand before the Elf of the Borderland. “I am ready, master,” he said.
“The Cloak is to be for this Prince,” the Elf told him. “Use your best skill in the weaving, so that it may be potentagainst his enemies, for much depends upon it.”
“It will not fail him, master,” responded the Weaver confidently. His keen old eyes swept the Prince from head to foot. He needed to take no other measure. Then he turned to a dim loom beside the wall, and standing before it, he began to spread the fairy warp under the watchful eye of the Elf. As he did so the elves came hurrying noiselessly with the magic ash which was to fill it.
Deftly the Weaver began to weave, crooning the mystic weaving-song meanwhile, so that the magic of its words might sink into every part of the Cloak, and make its power certain. He feared not to weave it under the eyes of him who should receive it, for he knew well that he who wears the Cloak, may see it woven, and hear the song, but nosooner has the Cloak fallen upon his shoulders than he forgets what his eyes had beheld and his ears heard. Thus the secret of the ancient Weaver remains with the elves of the Borderland.
Steadily the Cloak of Ash grew under the skilful hands of the Weaver, steadily the Prince watched the shuttle come and go. Never once did the ancient Weaver rest; never once did he cease to sing his mystic song, nor did the elves pause as they came and went, bringing the magic ash for the Cloak’s fashioning.
At last the moment came when the Weaver’s shuttle stopped, the song ceased and the elves stood still. The Elf turned to the Prince. “The Cloak is finished,” he said.
He bent down and lifted it soft andsilvery from the loom, and Prince Ember stretched eager hands to receive it.