 
### The

### Doormaster's

### Apprentice

Copyright 2014

by Zerelda's Children

Smashwords Edition

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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the authors.

Table of Contents

Start

Dedication

Thank You

Chapter 1

Liam finished mounting the heavy second door into the frame and carefully rolled it across the polished stone floor. The small wooden wheels squeaked softly, echoing off the stone walls, as he rolled the door into place alongside the first. Liam glanced over his shoulder. Even small sounds seemed loud to him in the Doormaster's cavernous underground workshop. Taking a fire globe off the wall, he held it close; the bright light chased the shadows from the door. Reaching out, he brushed the wood with his fingertips, smiling at how the quality of the gnome workmanship shone through.

A smile spread over his face. "Some day," he said, "I will buy a door like this for my father's vineyard."

The doors were not gilded with gold or gems. They were heavy working doors made from solid oaken planks. But the gnome's skill had transformed them into works of art. Liam moved his hand and light from the globe danced along the heavy brass hinges. He marveled at how it flowed out across the studded surface forming fanciful arcs and wide swirls.

Brass nails of substantial size held the dark planks of the door together. Each head displayed the shape of a different animal. The nails had been carefully driven into place with unique punches. Repeated hammer blows against engraved punches forged the once round nail heads into animals. At the top they had placed the Doormaster's trademark, a small artistically carved window, which allowed you to see who was standing on your step.

Mother would just love to have a door like this Liam thought. But first I will have to finish my apprenticeship. He leaned back from the door and sighed, and to do that I'll have to finish my chores.

So Liam replaced the fire globe, picked up the sack and the list of ingredients the Doormaster had left on the table, and crossed the room to a battered old door tucked away beneath the stairs. At one time the old door may have boasted exquisite carvings, but the years had washed away all but a shadow of its past grandeur. It was arched at the top, shorter and wider than the other doors in the house. The wood was ancient and looked out of place in the modern frame. Liam knew the Doormaster must have brought it with him from somewhere else, and installed it under the stairway.

Even though it was old, the ancient door held its magic well. The bond to its matching door, wherever it might be, was still strong. Behind this door lay the potion room which might be located across town or many leagues away from the underground workshop where he now stood. He wondered if even the Doormaster knew its physical location. Distance didn't matter though. Once Liam passed through the door he would be stepping into that mysterious room.

He paused before entering and checked his pockets. It could be fatal to take a magical item through the field formed by linked doors. If the object wasn't pure gold or shielded with silver, the bond would be severed. The Doormaster had explained the unpredictable and often violent results of such carelessness. He then gave him a pouch lined with silver net for carrying small magical items through the doors.

Everything was fine. The only magical item he was carrying was a solid gold ring that linked him to the Doormaster.

With a small gold key he wore around his neck, Liam unlocked the door. Shivering slightly he turned the knob. Even after serving as the Doormaster's apprentice for three years, he was not comfortable in the potion room. Bending slightly he ducked through the entrance.

From the way it looked no one else liked to spend much time here either. The rest of the Doormaster's dwelling was clean and spotless but here clutter and dust ruled supreme. A mysterious glow lit the room. Shelves and mismatched cupboards reached from the dust covered floor to the ceiling beams where tattered cobwebs swayed ghostly in unfelt air currents. Strange items littered the room. They had been jammed into jars and jugs, piled in pokes and pockets, thrust into tins, bins, buckets, bottles and bags, and what wouldn't fit was crammed into crocks, cans, containers and closets. Narrow aisles twisted through this jumble of ingredients.

Pushing his way in to the room he turned and locked the door. His hand rested on the knob as he stood with his back to the door and let his eyes adjust to the shadows. With a deep breath he let go of the doorknob and reached his hand behind the large gray sack sitting on the floor. His fingers groped for the ball of string he kept hidden there. After securely tying one end to the doorknob, he started to play out the string as he crept down the aisles opening cabinet doors and checking shelves. He tried not to make any noise, but sometimes the floor creaked or a cabinet door would squeak when he opened it. Liam was not sure what he was afraid of. He had never seen anyone else in the potion room, but sometimes he heard noises he couldn't explain. The place made him feel like he was being watched.

He easily found the first few items on the list. This might not be so bad thought Liam. I'll just get what I need and then I can leave this murk.

But as the list got shorter he found himself being drawn deeper into the room. Things had moved since the last time he was here, almost as if they didn't want to be found.

Liam continued to play out his string as he made his way deeper into the twisting maze. On both sides of him tall over burdened shelves leaned in to cast deep shadows into the aisle. He peered into tins and squinted to read hand written labels on ancient sacks and jars. Cautiously, Liam shifted the items on the shelf as he tried to read the labels.

Even slight movements disturbed the dust, releasing bizarre and grotesque smells that assaulted his nose. His eyes watered. His nose burned. He pinched it hard to control the sneeze, but it erupted explosively. From behind came a loud creak and a soft thud. Liam spun around, tangling his feet in the string. Eyes wide, heart pumping madly, Liam stared down the aisle behind him. Nothing moved. He held his breath and listened. Silence...nothing...after several seconds he began to relax.

Something must have fallen over back there he thought. The way things are piled up around here it must happen a lot.

He untangled himself and continued his search for the last few items on his list. But he couldn't convince himself that he was alone. Every little sound caused him to jump and glance over his shoulder.

Finally he spied a picture of an elderberry bush on a small tin. It was partly hidden behind a thick round jar with a black encrusted lid. When he pushed it aside, his fingers slid across something sticky and he sprang back in dismay.

"Pox and Corruption!" he swore. Without thinking he rubbed his tingling fingers on his robe. The jar lid wasn't properly sealed and some of the contents had oozed down the side. He looked down at the dark smear his fingers had left on his robe. Hopefully it wouldn't leave a stain or something worse.

Liam squinted at the label. In between the dark slimy goo he could just make out the words "Essence of Red Wor..." He shook his head. It could be just about anything in the potion room. He hoped he hadn't just put his hand into something unbelievably gross.

His first time in the potion room he had picked up a small misshapen package wrapped in yellowed paper and tied with red string. The attached tag read "Harpy's Hairball."

At first he thought it was somebody's idea of a joke. Then the package started twitching in his hand. He jerked, dropping it to the floor. In panic he kicked it away. It wiggled under a low shelf, the tag dragging behind like a tail. He shivered. He never wanted anything like that in his hand again.

Being careful not to touch the goo a second time, Liam reached behind the jar and removed the tin marked Elderberry Pollen. After a quick peek inside he placed it in his sack.

Only one more thing on my list, he thought. Holding his robe close to keep from brushing against anything else, he continued his search through the precarious stacks.

The tall racks of potions and ingredients seemed to lean over the aisle even further, almost closing in near the top. In the dim light the looming shelves and musty smell of old ingredients made the room feel like a cave. The string felt thin and frail as it passed over his fingers. The ball was now the size of a hen's egg. Only enough for another aisle or two, he thought. This was the farthest he had ever been into the potion room.

At the next intersection a tall red and yellow urn sat hissing and steaming upon a three-legged stool made of stone. There was no tag or label, but as he came closer he could feel heat radiating from it. He edged past it and turned left.

Halfway down the next aisle, a stack of nested pails made of silver paper leaned against a stately wardrobe. A thin layer of frost clouded the glass in the double doors. Liam gently pulled one of the decorative knobs. A drift of snow spilled out sprinkling the hem of his robe in purest white.

He stood transfixed at the view. The wardrobe door was linked to a land of snow, and he was looking down from the top of a rather high hill. Before him lay a wintry land of wonder. The landscape stretched away from his feet in a series of small rolling hills covered in white. Above, the sun shone impossibly bright from an intensely blue sky. Sunlight blazed off each individual snow crystal creating a blanket of gleaming diamonds across an untouched expanse of snow.

Liam had no idea what land lay before him. There were no hills like this near his village and the snows of winter had melted months ago. He looked at the stack of silver pails standing in the dim dusty aisle. It would be simple enough to reach in and scoop out the snow he needed, but it would be so exciting to step out of this murky cave of a room and explore the dazzling winter hillside. A gust of wind blew across his face stinging his skin with cold crystals, bringing with it the crisp clean sent of pine from some unseen grove. The chance to escape for just a few minutes pulled at him. Liam placed the ball of string on the floor and grabbed a pail. Without so much as a backward glance he stepped through the magic door into the snow-covered hillside.

The doorway was sheltered in a slight hollow on the southern slope of the hill. At first the snow wasn't very deep, but in a few steps it drifted over the tops of his short boots. He retreated back to explore near the door.

The magical feel of a snowy day in the middle of summer was intoxicating. He glanced back at the door. It would only take a few minutes to see what lay beyond the shoulder of the hill. At the western edge of the sheltered spot, a rock ledge had been swept clean by the wind. A lone pine grew from the rock, its gnarled roots fracturing the stone. Lightening had split the top and left a blackened scar down the trunk. He stepped out along the ledge.

He left the shelter of the depression. The full force of the winter wind slashed him. Gritting his teeth he pushed on against the cold, but his summer robe did little to stop the wind from whipping around his bare legs and chilling him to the bone. A quick look to the west was enough. He turned away from the wind and ran back to the depression. With chattering teeth he climbed back in through the door stomping his feet to remove the snow.

It wasn't until he started to close the door that he remembered the empty pail he still had in his hand. Leaning out to the side where the show was still undisturbed by his footprints, he scooped the fresh snow. Then he noticed what looked like a small boot print near the door.

Could that have been there when I went out he wondered. Squinting against the brightness, all he could see were his own boot prints crisscrossing the snow. The only small print was the one near the door. A chill ran down Liam's back that had nothing to do with the cold.

Had someone used the door to enter the potion room? The floor where he was standing was covered with snow from his own boots, hiding any tracks that may have been there. Liam suddenly felt sick. There might be a stranger in the potion room. He might have been the one to let them in. If someone wanted to hide, this was the perfect place. Liam didn't know what to do except to tell the Doormaster. His master had always been understanding and kind, but Liam had never done anything nearly as bad as this. He would surely be punished. Maybe even dismissed.

Liam picked up his sack and hooked the pail over his arm. Rolling up the string, he started following it back to the door. At the end of the aisle he stopped and peered around the corner. Nothing looked different...nothing was waiting to jump out at him. He released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"It was only a small boot print," he thought. "Whoever made it would probably be scared of me."

Just the same he was careful to check at the end of each aisle. By the time he made it back to the door he was feeling much better. He hadn't caught even a glimpse of anyone else. He had almost convinced himself that he had imagined the little boot print. Leaning down he stored his string behind the sack for the next time.

That boot print was probably just a trick of the wind or maybe made by some bird or animal, he thought as he wiped the last of the melted snow off his boots. Not really made by someone's boot at all.

With one hand gripping the sack of ingredients, he fumbled at the key around his neck to unlock the door. The pail of snow swung on his arm and bumped against his chest as he ducked through the door, closing it behind him. Just as he managed to turn the key he heard a small but distinct clatter behind the door. Liam felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He leaned forward pushing his ear against the door. He stood frozen...listening. No more sounds came through the door, but Liam made up his mind. When the Doormaster came down to spell the doors he would be sure to tell him about the boot print.

He set about preparing the spelling table. The familiar routine helped to take his mind off the possibility of someone hiding in the potion room. After washing his hands he opened the package of fresh white towels. He dipped the first one into the bucket of spring water and sloshed it over the table scrubbing the cracks and wiping down the surface. With a fresh towel he dried it. From a cabinet under the table he dragged out a plain silver caldron and heaved it onto the table. The only ornamentation on it was a green enamel stripe that circled the rim.

With a fresh towel, Liam cleaned first the inside and then the outside of the caldron. As he ran the cloth over the stripe, the heat from the friction changed the stripe to a lighter shade of green. He wrapped the towel around his hand like a glove and hung the caldron on the tripod at the end of the table. He smiled with satisfaction at his reflection. Not one fingerprint marred the shinning surface.

Without warning a loud voice squeaked up from behind him, jarring his nerves like fingernails on a writing slate. "Taking the time to admire your pretty face?"

Liam spun around with a jerk, knocking his elbow into the table. Not two feet away stood Hodekin. The short little man was dressed as always in a red vest and pants. His high top button down shoes a perfect match to his long sleeve shirt of deep blue. A rakish red hat with a turned up brim set cocked on his head like a crown.

"And such a pretty face it is...though not half as pretty as mine." The little kobold's wide grin showed his slightly pointed teeth.

Liam grimaced and rubbed his elbow. "Just because you can change your shape doesn't mean you can just sneak up on people."

Hodekin placed a finger on top of his hat and danced in a small circle, clicking his heels loudly on the polished floor. "Actually that is exactly what it means." He doffed his hat and made a small bow. "And you make it so easy."

He reached inside his hat and pulled out a small silver flask. "I was over by the wall pretending to be a stool, so you just overlooked me." Placing the hat back upon his head, he uncorked the flask and took a short pull. With a wink he replaced the cork. "I was hoping to see the look on your face when you tried to sit down and found yourself flat on your backside, staring at the ceiling and flopping around like a freshly caught fish. Alas, it was not to be."

Liam watched Hodekin stumble sideways and place a hand against the wall to steady himself. "A little early in the day to be drinking isn't it?" He knew the little kobold had a weakness for honeyed rum.

"Just a little tired is all. Been busy cleaning all morning. Maybe a little nap is what I need." Before Liam could say another word, Hodekin turned on his heel and weaved towards the stairs.

"Good riddance!" said Liam as he rubbed his elbow. "Go sleep it off you annoying little boil."

The kobold's squeaky laughter grated on Liam's ears followed by the clatter of his shoes stumbling up the stairs. Liam scowled.

Then a sudden inspiration passed through his mind. Could it have been Hodekin's footprint in the snow? But Liam knew only he and the Doormaster had keys. The little kobold was annoying and unnerving, but he was loyal in his service to the Doormaster. No one seemed to know why, but Liam suspected that Hodekin was paying off a debt. The Doormaster was the only one Hodekin showed the slightest bit of respect.

Liam tried to ignore the possibility he was being watched and laughed at. It was irritating. The kobold could be imitating anything in the room and Liam would never know.

He pushed the thought out of his mind. He still had work to do. His mother and father had paid good coin to give him the chance to learn the Doormaster's trade, and no pint-sized kobold with an undersized hat was going to stand in his way.

From the cupboard he removed a set of silver balancing scales and weights. With a clean cloth he started polishing the scales, shoving the cloth across the silver surface with short angry jabs. As he rubbed away the tarnish, his thoughts kept slipping back to Hodekin. I need to find a way to tell when he is sneaking up on me, he thought. Then he won't always be having the last laugh.

Liam continued to ponder the problem as he polished the weights but was no closer to a solution by the time he finished. He paused and looked over the preparations. Everything looked right, but had he forgotten anything? More light might be helpful. Crossing to the fireplace, he added another log and stirred the coals. The fire claimed the log, and shot up flames. The globes, which were bonded to the fire, grew brighter and chased away the shadows. With a start, he realized what he had forgotten. Quickly he laid out several clean silver mixing spoons.

Satisfied, he twisted the small gold ring on the first finger of his left hand completely around three times and released it to call the Doormaster. He watched it spin one more time, telling him the message was received.

"Everything ready Liam my boy?" called the Doormaster as he came down the stairs carrying a heavy grimoire under his arm. Light glinted off the tome's elaborately reinforced corners and the artistic silver clasp that held it closed. He paused with a wry smile as he glanced over his rose tinted spectacles at the boy's robe. "Did you find the mountain snow all right?"

"Yes sir, everything is ready," said Liam. Following his master's eyes he looked down and noticed the hem of his robe. It was still wet from where it had dragged in the snow. His face felt suddenly warm and he knew he was blushing. "I couldn't help myself sir. The sky was so blue and the air so...fresh...I...I just had to..." When he looked back up the Doormaster face was split with a wide grin.

"Yes, the mountainside can be truly beautiful on a clear day and quite pleasant too, as long as you stay out of the wind." He gave Liam a wink. "Let us begin then." The Doormaster placed the grimoire on the ornate wooden podium carved with griffins.

Liam walked quickly to the Doormaster's side and watched him flip through the illustrated pages of spells and formulas. Before he could lose his nerve he blurted out, "Master, when I was out on the side of the mountain I was away from the door for a short time and I think someone may have slipped in."

The Doormaster stopped on a page with an embossed picture of a door at the top and tucked the corner under the griffin's wooden wing to hold the book open. Without looking up he asked, "What would make you think that? I know of only one person who is tough enough to want to live near that mountain. And Olaf is not likely to be spending much time climbing that high."

"But Sir, as I was coming back in I found a small boot print near the door. I'm almost certain it wasn't there when I went out."

"Hmmm...small boot print you say?" The Doormaster looked off into space and slowly stroked his beard. Turning toward Liam he leaned forward. "Tell me more about this boot print lad. What did it look like?"

Liam swallowed hard. Hoping for the best he closed his eyes and tried to picture the print in his mind. "It was small. Could have been a made by a child but it had the look of a working boot. Large heel and a rounded toe."

"I wonder...it might have been made by a tommyknocker," said the Doormaster almost as if he were talking to himself. "Very rare for them to leave any sign of their passing." He looked thoughtful as his fingers combed through his beard. "Something must have surprised him, made him jump for the door."

"Tommyknocker...Sir, did you say tommyknocker?" Liam didn't know what that might be but having one loose in the potion room sounded terrible. "Do you think I may have let one in to the potion room, Sir?" This was worse than terrible. He was going to be expelled for sure! "Should I try to find him and put him out?"

"An explosion of laughter burst from the Doormaster making it impossible for him to talk coherently. "Find a tommyknocker? Put...put...put him out!"

Liam was getting so flustered he wanted to scream. What was so funny about having some kind of knocking thing loose in your potion room?

Finally the Doormaster reined in his laugher enough to talk. "Sorry lad. Catching sunbeams on a string while balanced on a soap bubble would be an easier task. I've made a hobby of studying tommyknockers, and in thirty years I've never seen more than a glimpse of one."

A lump formed in Liam's throat. "Oh, but Sir, what will happen now that one is loose in your potion room?"

"Easy lad," said the Doormaster with a chuckle. "A tommyknocker in the potion room is nothing to worry about. Quite the opposite. They belong there. They are not as unfamiliar as you might imagine. From what I can tell, Hodekin may be a distant cousin."

Liam was stunned. His mouth opened but he had so many questions he didn't know which one to ask first.

The Doormaster reached over and gently pushed up on Liam's drooping jaw. "I can see your education has a gap. Very well then, I'll tell you a little about tommyknockers while we finish our preparations, but the tale may be briefer than you would like. We still have work to do."

So as they moved around the table laying out ingredients the Doormaster began to explain. "First of all lad, it's not my potion room. It was built ages ago by craft masters with a common cause. Over the ages the room has pushed its boundaries ever wider. Their idea was to build a place where nothing was rare. Where a craft master could walk in and pick up whatever he needed and leave whatever he had in his pocket, so to speak, for trade.

"But how could that be master?"

"To a large extent, where you live determines what is rare and valuable. Snow lies on the mountainside in piles, but in the desert snow is rare. If you live on the mountain, desert sand or milk from a camel would be very hard to come by. So a band of craft masters created a room where you could store what you have in plenty and find what to you is rare."

Liam paused his sorting and asked, "Where did the masters build this room?"

"I have often wondered this myself. I believe it must have started in a cave under some large mountain. That may be how the tommyknockers found it."

It embarrassed Liam to hear his voice quaver when he asked, "You mean the one I let in today, master?"

"No lad, nor even his great, great grandsire. There have been tommyknockers in the potion room almost from the time it was built. They are small secretive creatures who tunnel underground. They tend to be hoarders, collecting odd bits and forgotten trinkets. Over the years they became the potion room guardians, watching those who use the room. Causing mischief for any who are greedy and take advantage of the bounty of the room."

"But master, what do we leave?"

"Over the years my contributions have varied. Lately I have been supplying the room with eiderdown that I receive from the goose girl in payment for transporting her eggs to the kobold tin mines, but more of this later. We have a door to complete."

He pushed back the sleeves of his robe with a smile and a flourish. They began to first weigh and then mix the potions in the silver cauldron.

"We must take extra care with this batch," explained the Doormaster as he worked. "When set in place the doors will be many miles apart and our potion must be powerful enough to keep the bond strong. Today's bonding must reach over wooded hills and across wide swift rivers. If our ingredients are not pure, our measurements not exact, or our actions not precise, the magic will fail. The bond between the doors will fade and passing between them will become impossible."

"How will we know if the spell is strong enough?" asked Liam as he struggled with the mortar and pestle to grind the lodestone into a fine powder. The rock was tough and the pieces stuck together in a lump.

"Magic is not much different than other things in life," said the Doormaster. "We shall put forth our best effort and let nature judge the results."

"I don't understand master," said Liam as he continued to wrestle with the lodestone. "How will nature judge?"

"There is only one way to test it lad," said the Doormaster. He tipped the summoning salts out of the scale pan and into the cauldron and turned to peer at Liam over his rose tinted spectacles. "Once you have set the door in place you shall test it."

"Me! Master?" The pestle slipped and pinched his thumb, but he hardly noticed. "You want me to install the doors?" He had never been much past the outskirts of the village.

"Well not both of them," said the Doormaster with a smile. "Just the one by the lake. The other one is to be delivered to the king's own castle. I'm sure there is someone there who can be trusted to hang a door."

Liam slowly turned back to grinding the lodestone. His mind spun with thoughts all trying to be first. Could it really be true? Was he really working on a door for the king? Was the Doormaster going to ask him to install the door all by himself? Liam was not at all sure if he was ready to take a trip into the wild woods. What would the Doormaster say if he admitted he was afraid to go?

"That looks fine enough," said the Doormaster as he reached for the lodestone Liam had been grinding. "I'll measure this while you bring out the heating stones."

Liam crossed to the silver lined cupboard where the heating stones lay nested like plates.

"How many will we need master?"

"Let us start with four and build upon that," answered the Doormaster as he sprinkled a white powder on the finely ground lodestone.

Liam removed a stack of four heating stones from the cabinet and slid them under the caldron. As soon as the stones were removed from the protection of the silver cabinet, the bond they had with the fire pit was renewed and they began to warm.

"How hot would you like the caldron sir?" The green stripe was changing to yellow.

"Bring the heat up to just past orange but stop before it turns a true red.

The Doormaster mixed more of the white power with the ball of lodestone in the mortar. The tightly packed ball began to relax and slowly spin on its axis. He added more powder. The ball rose up, hovering slightly, a wide ring forming around its middle.

Liam lengthened the chain holding the caldron above the heating stones. The stripe changed from yellow to orange and steam rose from the potion. He eased the caldron down another link. The stripe turned a glowing rust color and the potion started to bubble.

Again the Doormaster carefully sprinkled the white powder on the lodestone. It spun faster. The ring thickened, pulling mass from the center. The mixture took on a bluish cast. Tiny flashes sparked out from the center like miniature lightning.

"The potion is ready for the stones lad. Quick now before it starts to turn!"

Liam took a last look at the burnished orange stripe and made a small adjustment to the chain.

"I'm ready sir!"

The Doormaster made a quick flick of his wrist. The spinning blue disk landed in the caldron with hardly a splash.

"Watch the potion now lad, keep the heat up until the spinning stops. Then let it cool back to green."

Liam leaned over the caldron. The lodestone sunk to the bottom. Its spinning stirred the contents. The mixture slowly thickened and the circling mass slowed and stopped. Using tongs he moved the hot heating stones back into the silver lined cupboard. While they waited for the potion to cool Liam set the mixing table back in order, cleaning the utensils and placing them back where they belonged. When the stripe on the caldron had turned green again he called for the Doormaster.

"Let's test the batch," said the Doormaster. He dipped the ladle into the potion. Holding his hand high he dribbled the mixture back into the cauldron. Small shimmering blue drops spun into disks as the liquid fell. A satisfied smile crossed his face. "It looks fine lad."

Liam picked up the cauldron and followed the Doormaster to a bench against the back wall. Sitting on the shelf was a small decorative window just like the ones in the doors. The Doormaster selected a large round bristled brush made from goat whiskers. With deft strokes, he carefully painted the window.

"Looks good to me," said the Doormaster as he set the window back on the shelf. "Now for the doors."

Once the doors were painted the Doormaster put down his brush. "Watch closely now Liam, but with more than just your eyes. Reach out to the doors in your mind and touch them. They were made from the same tree. The mountain snow washed their roots. An elderberry bush grew beside this tree. Its berries and leaves helped nourish its roots. Now we make the doors one again."

The Doormaster stepped in front of the doors with his arms by his sides, his palms up, fingers spread towards the doors. Closing his eyes he slowly raised his arms. A shimmering blue fog appeared at the base of each door and spilled across the floor. The Doormaster continued to raise his arms. The fogs rose higher and grew thicker, flowing across the floor to meet in the middle. Where the two fogs joined, a lump began to form.

Liam shivered, as the room grew colder. The fogs flowed faster and thicker. The Doormaster raised his arms even higher and the mass responded. It swirled upward caught in an unfelt wind. The Doormaster reached toward the fog bringing his hands closer together, molding the mass. The swirling slowed, the masses thickened, taking the shape of a door. Just as the mass jelled into a door the Doormaster brought his hands together with a loud clap! Shattering the fog into a thousand sparkling explosions!

"It is done!" said the Doormaster as he dropped his arms. "The doors are joined." His gray eyes sparked with excitement as he turned to Liam and asked, "Tell me what you saw. What you felt."

"There was a blue fog that your hands shaped into a door. It was cold. The kind of cold that creeps about your feet in late fall with a promise of winter. Then it all exploded in a shower of colorful sparkling stars."

"Excellent lad, excellent! I expected you to feel a chill or maybe sense part of the ending. The magic in you is strong. Keep up with your exercises, and soon you will be ready to link your first doors. You have the gift, lad. You will have the ability to give people the freedom of travel. Bonding doors together gives people the chance to go places without having to spend valuable time getting there. It is like giving them a gift of time itself."

Liam thought about his parents and how little free time there was around the vineyard. "But master, only the rich can afford to buy the doors, and they already have leisure time."

"Yes, it's true the doors are expensive. The materials are costly. Skilled artisans are hard to find, and their training is lengthy. Still, I think it important that common people benefit also. That is why every tenth door I make is donated to a village that doesn't have a common door for the public."

Liam's parents had used the village's common door once to visit his grandparents when they were sick. The journey by horse or cart would have taken a week each way.

"Master I would be pleased if the first door I linked was one of your tenths."

The Doormaster looked closely at Liam, "Are you sure about this? It is traditional that the new apprentice receives half the payment from his first bonding. You would be missing a chance to gain a fair amount of coin."

Liam remembered how worried his mother had been. The common door had made it possible for her to visit her sick mother and know she was recovering. "Yes sir, I'm sure."

The Doormaster smiled at Liam, "When I selected you for my apprentice I made a good choice. I believe one day you will make a fine doormaster. But first, you have doors to test and deliver."

Under the watchful eye of the Doormaster, Liam performed the initial test. With the doors placed at opposite ends of the room, Liam took his position in front of one and the Doormaster stood at the other. When Liam opened his door, the other door swung open, and he could see the Doormaster looking back at him. Liam leaned to the side and looked around the frame. The Doormaster was still standing across the room. It was like seeing two Doormasters.

Liam stepped through the first door and out the second. It felt exactly like walking through any other door, but he had traveled across the room in a single step. The Doormaster watched as Liam opened and closed the doors a couple more times and stepped back and forth across the room.

"The bond is working fine. You can do the final testing when they are hung," said the Doormaster as he walked towards the podium carved with griffins.

"Will they be hung near here sir?" Liam asked. He had been waiting for this opportunity, but his stomach felt queasy at the idea of traveling a long way by himself and with such a valuable cargo.

"Not too far," said the Doormaster. "The one you need to install will be at Yellow Finger Lake."

Liam's apprehension started to grow. "I'm not sure where that is sir."

"I would be surprised to hear you did. It is two days east of the village of Fairgrove. I have made special preparation for a cart and donkey."

Liam didn't know what to say. People in Three Oaks Dale often spoke of Fairgrove, and he had a vague notion it was several days journey away. It was exciting to imagine installing the door by himself, but he had never driven a donkey cart. He had heard the animals could be stubborn. "What kind of preparations have you made sir?"

"Well, besides finding a cart and donkey I hired your friend Mica to travel along with you. Never can tell when you might need a friend." The Doormaster looked at Liam with a knowing smile."

Liam felt some of the apprehension slip away. This was the best news he could think of. Mica was a couple years older than Liam. He had drifted into the area all alone about a year ago and took up living in an abandoned farmhouse down the road from the vineyard. Nobody knew much about him, and Mica didn't talk much about his past. Liam's father let Mica hunt deer and conies around the vineyard, which Mica sold in town to pay for what little he needed. When Liam was home, Mica had taken him hunting and they became friends. Liam was sure Mica could handle just about anything.

"Since I have made all the arrangements and the doors are ready, you can leave in the morning. Take the rest of the day to ready yourself for the trip. Pack light, just a spare work robe and your old cloak. Anything fancy will only bring unwanted attention."

"Do you think there might be trouble on the way?" Liam wasn't sure he liked the sound of unwanted attention.

"If I expected any serious difficulty I wouldn't send you. The only town between here and Yellow Fingers Lake is Fairgrove, and that leaves a lot of empty road to travel. Just keep a sound head, stay on the road, and remember not to put yourself in any bad situations."

Liam's head spun as he climbed the stairs to pack. The day had been full of surprises. Telling the master about the boot print was the right thing after all. He wondered if he would ever see a tommyknocker. He hoped they would stay in the potion room. A whole tribe of kobolds would be more than he could handle.

He grinned. Tomorrow he would be setting out unsupervised. In just a few days he would install the door and return to show the Doormaster he was worthy of his trust. He would please the master with his efforts. Liam could hardly wait to see Hodekin's face as the master heaped praise on him. His toe caught on the last stair. He stumbled into the wall scraping his shoulder shattering his pleasant daydream.

Who am I kidding, he thought. I can't even walk up the stairs by myself. The thought of failing the Doormaster's trust put knots in his stomach. If the door was damaged or lost, both doors would be useless and take months to replace. A failure might even mean a loss of his apprenticeship. His mother and father had made it plain. There would be no money for another chance at a different trade.

He pushed open the door to his room. Light from the partially shielded fire globe cast flickering shadows on the table and walls. He slid back the shield, and the shadows retreated to the corners.

Kneeling on the floor he peered under the bed to find his rucksack. Just out of reach in a dark corner lay a rumpled heap. Lying down he tried to wiggle under the bed, but his head wouldn't fit. If he pressed his cheek against the floor he could just squeeze under and slide across the rough surface, but he couldn't see what he was doing. Stretching his arm to full length, he felt for the leather bag. His fingers brushed against fabric. It slipped from his fingers as he tried to grasp it. A faint scent of tobacco smoke made him wrinkle his nose. By trying again he was able to pinch a corner. Wiggling backward he tugged on the bag, pulling it with him.

"Hey now...no need to be tugging on my boots. Next will you be wanting my trousers?"

Scrambling backwards, Liam banged his head on the edge of the bed. "Ow!"

From under the bed came a gleeful chuckle. Liam instantly recognized the squeak of Hodekin's laughter. "You withered little boil. What are you doing hiding under my bed? The honey rum has muddled your brain. You can't even find your own room. I should bond your trousers to a cactus."

The little kobold popped out from under the bed. "You would need help to bond stink to a skunk."

Liam scowled and rubbed his head as Hodekin danced out of the room, his heels clicking on the floor.

Liam fumed as he stuffed clothing into his pack. Still angry, he threw himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and thought about the events of the day. Sleep crept up on him like a shadow.

* * * * *

He woke to sunlight shining on his face. Voices drifted up through the open window. He rolled over and lifted himself up on one elbow. With a yawn he scratched his head and looked out the window. In the street below his friend Mica stood next to the Doormaster. He was dressed in a dark brown homespun shirt fastened at the neck with leather drawstrings. His deerskin pants were tucked into sturdy high-topped boots. From under a wide brimmed hat his black hair hung down his neck.

Suddenly Liam remembered. Today he was leaving to install the door. He was late! Jumping off the bed he smoothed out his robe. At least he didn't have to get dressed. He grabbed his pack and rushed down the stairs.

Mica and the Doormaster were standing next to a battered old cart as Liam burst outside. He tried to smooth down his hair that stuck out in odd little clumps.

"There you are my lad. Hope you enjoyed your last night in a soft bed. For a fortnight it will be rocks for pillows and starlight for a roof." The Doormaster looked around and took a deep breath. "A fine day for young men to be starting an adventure." If he took note of Liam's disheveled look he gave no indication.

Frowning, Liam ran his hand over the weathered side rail.

"It is a bit rugged, isn't it lad? But a lonely road is not the place to display your wealth. No need to attract unwanted attention."

"We won't be attracting much attention with this rig," Mica said. "Unless you include wood beetles in your tally."

"Won't the door attract attention?" Liam asked.

The Doormaster's eyes twinkled behind his rose tinted spectacles. "Tell me lad. Do you see a door?"

Liam looked in the cart, but all he saw was a layer of straw. "No sir, but won't they look under the straw?"

Smiling, the Doormaster lifted a false panel at the back of the cart and pointed. The door had been slid into a compartment hidden under the cart's floor.

"And that's not the end of it, lad. Pick up the seat."

Examining the seat, Liam discovered two small hinges. "It looks like a door, sir."

"Well open it lad."

Liam pulled up on the seat and found he wasn't looking at the floor of the cart at all but into a small cupboard filled with dark brown bread and sharp yellow cheese.

"The seat is a door that I linked to a cupboard. Hodekin and I will keep it stocked for you. Should be enough there for breakfast and lunch, in case someone has missed his." The Doormaster winked at Liam.

Feeling a little guilty, Liam looked back at his master with a smile. "Thank you sir."

Mica looked over Liam's shoulder. "Hard beds will seem softer with our bellies full."

"One last thing," said the Doormaster. He handed Liam a pendant on a chain. "This will show you where to place the door. It is linked to its twin, which is located somewhere on the shore of Yellow Finger Lake. Follow the King's Highway beyond Fairgrove. Sometime on the second day, I should think, it will swing north, pointing out a path leading into the woods. Follow it until you find its twin. It is there that you will install the door."

From an inside pocket of his robe he pulled a small silver box. He handed it to Liam. "Once you have found its mate you can place both pendants in here and set the box in the cupboard beneath the seat."

Liam put the box into his pocket and slipped the chain over his head, tucking the pendant inside his robe. It felt cool against his skin.

"Well lads, time for the adventure to start. Keep to the road. Keep together. Keep your wits."

With that the boys climbed up on the cart. Mica snapped the reins, and with a wave the boys headed down the road.

### Chapter 2

At first Liam was excited to be on the road. New sights and sounds filled him with wonder. But what started out as an adventure soon became routine. Every day after breakfast they climbed up on the cart and rode until lunch. After eating it was back up on the cart until they reached the next journey camp.

The camps were spaced about a day's travel apart. They were primitive, sometimes not much more than a fire pit, but there was usually good water nearby. A few had a rough cabin or lean-to for shelter if the weather turned bad. So far the nights had been fair, and the boys had slept in the wagon. Custom was that travelers using the camps at least replenished the firewood. Those who were regulars on the road sometimes even did a few repairs.

After two days on the road, Liam was looking forward to spending the night in Fairgrove but they arrived late and the streets were empty and dark. Mica did not want to leave the spelled door unguarded in the stable yard. They told the old one-eyed innkeeper they were short on coin. He grumbled some, but let them sleep in the stable with the cart. The next day they were up with the sun, leaving before the folks in town were out of their beds.

The next day stretched into another long ride in the cart followed by another uneventful night in a roadside journey camp. The road to Fairgrove had been fairly smooth. The late spring rains had stopped and the king's men had repaired most of the damage. But the road leaving Fairgrove was still rutted and pocked with holes. Liam shifted his weight on the hard wooden board that served as the cart's seat just as one of the wheels thumped into yet another hole.

"Oof!" exclaimed Liam as the jolt pitched him backwards. "You know you don't have to hit every hole in the road between here and Yellow Finger Lake. If you did happen to miss a few you'll have another chance to hit them on the way back."

Mica cocked his head sideways and smiled at Liam from under his wide brimmed hat. "I've heard that too much book learning tends to soften a fellow's head. But maybe that's not the whole truth of it. Might not be limited to just his head."

Liam smiled in spite of himself. Mica's jibe wasn't far from the truth. After four days of being bounced around on this cart, even his bruises were getting bruised. Mica liked to pretend that he was tough, but Liam had seen him wince too when the cart took a hard jolt.

"That's right I forgot," Liam said with a smirk. "You're the one who's strong as an old oak tree...and almost as smart."

Just then the cart banged into yet another hole, which jarred out an oath from both the boys. They laughed out loud at each other's misfortune.

The road here was rough, but their spirits were as high as the bright noonday sun that beat down on them. Liam loved working with the Doormaster, but he was glad to be out in the fresh air away from the dust and stuffiness of the potion room. After three years the Doormaster was trusting him on his own. It was a fine day for an adventure.

"I know you could stay up here and ride this bucking cart all the way across the seven kingdoms, but stopping for lunch doesn't sound too bad to me," said Liam. "That shady spot ahead looks perfect, and it's not too far from the road."

Mica smiled. "It does look pleasing. Judging from the number of trees, there might be a cool bit of water there for Lit' Smoky. Let's take a look."

Mica pulled on the reins and Little Smoky turned off the road. Tall grasses brushed against the bottom of the cart and sprang back into place behind them leaving only a faint hint of their passing. The little donkey had no problem pulling the cart across the meadow. As they drew near the grove, the land started to slope downward sharply.

Mica pulled back on the reins stopping Smoky near the top of the ridge. She immediately pulled up a mouthful of grass and began to chew noisily.

"This looks to be as far as we get."

Liam stood on the seat. Small trees grew near the edge of the grove, but huge, older trees rose up from the valley floor.

"Look at the size of those trees. I'd wager it would take six tall men to reach all the way around that oak there...and maybe ten to reach around that willow down near the pond. What do you say we go down and take a closer look at the grandfather of all trees?"

"You seem to be forgetting something. If we ride down there to have lunch with Grandfather Willow, who's going to pull our cart back up this hill?" His mouth tightened into a line "You'll not be a friend to me if you think it fair to ask Lit' Smoky to shoulder such a load."

The tone of voice made Liam pull his eyes away from the trees and glance at Mica. He was right. The steep hill started almost at his feet. The little donkey would be hard pressed to pull the cart back up the hill. To force her to do it without just cause would be wrong.

Still, the wonder of the grove pulled at him. Shade from the giant trees had long since choked out most of the undergrowth leaving mosses and a few tuff grasses to cover the rocky floor. The sunlight that did filter through the upper branches came through as shafts of shimmering emerald green. There had to be a way to take a closer look.

His mind whirling, Liam turned to Mica. "Couldn't we leave Smoky and the cart here for just a little while? Just long enough to take a look at the grove and have a quick lunch? What could it hurt?"

Mica looked down into the grove and then back over his shoulder towards the road. The grass had sprung back up to cover their tracks, and the dip in the land hid the road from view.

"We haven't so much as glimpsed a single body on the road yet today so don't suppose there's much chance of a thief nicking our cart. Not out here in the back of the beyond anyway."

Liam saw that Mica was weakening. He pressed on. "It would give Smoky a rest."

"She does seem content enough here." Mica paused and pushed back the brim of his hat. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stake her out here where the grass is sweet. Maybe take a blanket and a bit of lunch down the hill."

Liam vaulted over the back of the seat into the cart before Mica had a chance to change his mind. "You take care of the donkey while I see what's for lunch."

Hoping the Doormaster had left something other than bread and cheese, he lifted the wagon seat. The dust and heat from the morning had left him thirsty. He grinned when he saw two earthenware jars and a cloth sack. The jars were cold.

He dropped the lid back into place and grabbed a spare blanket. Leaping from the cart, his feet hit the grassy ground with a soft thump.

"Ready Mica?"

"Don't get in a rush now." Mica gave the stake one last lick with the back of his ax and laid it down. Deftly he tied Little Smoky's halter lead to the stake. "It would be a long walk with a sad story at the end if Lit' Smoky were to wander off without us."

Mica was right, but Liam felt the grove calling. It was like watching preparation for the Harvest Feast and having to wait for everyone to be seated and the blessing to be said before you could begin. He could hardly keep himself from throwing everything on the ground and running full speed down the hill.

He shifted the sack and felt the cold against his back. "Let's go," Liam said.

"It sort of pulls at your heart don't it?" Mica said. He lifted his bow and quiver out as he walked past the back of the cart.

Little Smoky chewed a mouthful of grass and watched through half closed eyes as the boys walked down the hill and into the grove without a backward glance.

They scrambled down deeper into the grove. Younger trees gave way to taller, older ones. Their tangled branches shaded the forest floor, choking out the underbrush and encouraging the moss. It spread across the forest floor in a course green mat. Mosses of every description grew in the cool green shade, clinging to rocks, flowing over fallen branches, and climbing the trunks of the giant trees. Overhead branches dripped long clumps of moss and mistletoe.

Liam paused beside one of the giants to brush his fingers against the ancient bark. The yellow green moss crumbled beneath his touch. Tilting back his head he let his gaze travel up the trunk. Far above his head the massive limbs intertwined with the branches of the giants growing near it.

"It almost looks like they are holding hands," Liam whispered to himself.

Air currents stirred the top most branches with a breeze that never touched the forest floor. Thin rays of pale-green sunbeams pierced the canopy, capturing lazy spirals of dust motes dancing their way down.

Liam let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and breathed deeply. The earthy smell of growing things overwhelmed his senses. Mica had told him about his travels, but his stories had not been this vivid. Half expecting Mica to be laughing at him, he tried to hide his excitement as he glanced over.

Mica had climbed onto a moss-covered rock and was gazing intently into the grove.

"Have you ever been anywhere like this before?" asked Liam.

Mica scooted off the face of the rock.

"Can't say that I have...it's a slice of true wonder!" With the tip of his bow Mica pointed downhill towards the center of the grove. "I spied the edge of the pond down this way. Dare to see a bit more of your grandfather trees?" With a wink and a nod he motioned Liam to follow him as he walked deeper into the grove.

Liam shifted the bag of lunch to his other shoulder and hurried to follow. Every step deeper into the woods revealed a new wonder.

Occasional orchids began to appear in the hanging mosses adding splashes of color. Soon they hung everywhere. Their rich fragrance washed over Liam's senses in an overpowering wave until he could almost taste it on the back of his tongue.

Mica suddenly stretched out his arm across Liam's chest holding him back. "Listen!"

Liam stopped in his tracks and listened, but he heard nothing except the usual sounds of the forest. "What is it?" he whispered.

Mica didn't answer, only motioned with his hand for Liam to stay quiet.

From somewhere high above them came the trilling call of a large bird. "Hear that?" asked Mica a large smile coming to his face as he searched the branches overhead.

Liam was confused. "Hear? Hear what? I can't hear anything except a silly bird."

Mica's eyes never stopped scanning the trees. "Silly is it? A closer look may change your mind." Mica pointed to a nearby branch.

There in the middle sat a huge bird with a long, hooked beak. It stood taller than a raven but not as large as an eagle. Deep blue iridescent feathers covered its body and wings. The long flowing tail feathers were etched in black. A crest of long white feathers as fine as lace crowned its bright yellow head.

"You're right Mica," said Liam in wonder. "Never would I have imagined a bird like this. Let's get a little closer."

Quietly the boys inched forward until they were only a few feet away. With a jerk the bird snapped erect and tilted its head to one side. Its shiny black eye looked directly at them. Liam froze in place, only half-hidden behind a slender young tree. Slowly the bird marched sideways, the black talons clicking on the wood with each precise step, its gaze fixed on the boys. It reached the end of the branch and leaned forward.

The eyes seemed to bore into Liam's skull. Swallowing hard he tried not to shake. The bird was obviously not the least bit afraid of him. Stretching to its full height it loosed a long shrill call and launched itself into the air. Spreading its wings it swooped low. Liam heard the wings snap and felt the air whip past his face as he ducked and spun around the trunk just in time to see the bird disappear into the tree tops.

Liam sunk down on a convenient tree root his back against the tree, mouth open, still watching the spot where the beautiful bird had disappeared. "I have never seen anything like it," he said in a low voice.

Mica moved around to Liam's side of the tree. "That's a rare chance you'll not get often. Only a lucky few get to see an Emperor Bird."

Liam looked up at Mica. "You've seen one before!"

"Indeed, once when I was very young."

Liam wanted to know more, but before he formed the words Mica had pushed away from the tree and moved deeper into the wood. "There's still a pond to see."

With a last wistful glance, Liam turned and followed. Small bushes tugged at his robe and he looked with envy at Mica's buckskins. When they reached the pond, Mica hopped onto a rock and looked out over the water.

A playful breeze carrying the heavy sweet scent of flowers stirred Liam's hair. The sun glistening off the rippling surface beckoned. He dropped the blanket and lunch under a tree and sat down on a rock. Pulling off his boots, he dipped his feet into the water. A surprised smile crossed his face. It was warm. He wiggled his toes. It had been a long time since his last bath.

"Long as we're this far, how about a swim to wash the dust out of our hair?"

Mica looked around. Giant trees dripping with moss and orchids ringed the pond. From the branches, multi-colored birds called to one another. Flutterbys floated past on iridescent wings.

"Peaceful enough spot for a short swim."

He hung his bow over a low branch. Leaving their clothes hanging on a convenient bush, they were soon swimming in the relaxing water. It didn't take long to get clean, but they found they didn't want to leave.

Soon they were laughing and chasing each other through the water. Mica caught up with Liam and pushed him under. The water closed over his head and sounds faded away. Bursting to the surface, he shook his head and looked around laughing and sputtering.

He looked to shore, and his laughter turned to a shout. "Hey! What are you doing? That's my robe. Come back here." He lunged forward, thrashing through the water. On shore, a thin girl laughed at his efforts. She skipped from one bush to another, plucking up the last of their clothes. Her pale green dress swirled around her legs like fog. Tuffs of nut-brown hair sprung from her head like spines on a pine cone.

"Swimming in our pond is not free. We'll accept your garments as payment. Enjoy your swim." Her musical laugh drifted across the water as she waved and disappeared behind the bush.

Water cascaded over Liam's head and into his eyes as Mica splashed past and dashed up the bank. Liam was right behind him. He scrambled out, his feet slipping on the muddy bank. Roots scraped at his feet as he stumbled around the bush. Mica and the girl had vanished along with the clothes. He stood shivering with water dripping off his nose, alone in the woods with no clothes and no food.

Then he remembered the lunch. Spinning around he spotted the blanket still under the tree where he had left it with the bow hanging from the branch. Relief spread through him. Maybe the clothes were all they wanted.

Before he could snatch it up, he heard a rustling of leaves. Something was coming. Crouching down behind a tree he waited. The noise got louder. He glanced back at the blanket and bow, wishing he could reach them.

He turned back to the noise. A familiar face appeared. "Mica! You got our boots. Where are the clothes? Didn't you catch her?"

"Deer run slower," Mica said wheezing slightly. When I got close, she dropped our boots."

He pulled a dagger from a hidden sheath in his boot and cut the blanket in half, tossing one piece to Liam. "Wrap this about your middle."

The blanket barely reached around his waist. As Liam struggled to tie the bulky cloth, they heard the musical laugh again.

Scowling, Mica retrieved his bow and pointed to the lunch sack. "Quiet now. Bit o' luck here, and we win back our dignity." With a wave of his hand to follow, he crept off in the direction of the laugher.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Liam hurried to catch up. Mica slipped silently through the trees. Even Liam's footsteps were muffled by the thick moss, but their efforts were fruitless. For several hours they chased the laugher and their frustration grew. All they caught were glimpses of the pale green dress as she skipped through the trees, always out of reach.

Dinnertime came and went, and Liam's stomach was still missing lunch. His legs were tired. It was getting harder not to stub his toes on roots or to avoid low hanging branches that scratched his face and arms as the light faded. His shoulder ached from carrying the bag, and all he could think about was the bread and cheese inside it.

"Enough," he said, breaking the silence. "I'm tired of this endless game of tag." He dropped the bag and slumped down on a fallen log.

"Never bested by a mere lass before. 'Twill be no happy end to this merry chase. Let's have your lunch, then back to the cart."

Liam broke the loaf and handed half to Mica. They ate in silence. The cheese had grown warm and waxy. It stuck to his teeth. An uneasy feeling grew. They had been away from the cart for a long time. It would be well past dark before they got back. Was the door still safe?

The sun dropped below the trees and the air grew chill. The once captivating grove turned dark and unfriendly. The small diversion had cost them their clothes and almost a full day's travel. Liam made no effort at quietness as he tramped behind Mica. All the colorful orchids and hanging moss were now just dark obstacles to avoid.

A small branch slapped his face. He wiped a hand across his watering eyes and saw a tiny spot of light.

"Mica, is that a light over there?"

The older boy stopped. "Might be the lass with more tricks. Let's get a closer look."

Mica glided through the trees, and Liam followed as quietly as he could. It was farther than he expected. Ahead the light grew brighter. They stopped in the shadows and surveyed a clearing.

An enormous chestnut tree stood in the center, an ornate lantern hanging from a branch. In its glow a girl sat cross-legged on the ground bent over a book. Her raven black hair was tied back with a band of green leather, exposing delicate ears with graceful points.

Mica put out his hand and stopped Liam. "This is not the same lass."

"What do you think she's doing out here alone?"

"It's plain she's dressed for traveling. There's a good chance she's not alone."

Tight brown pants were tucked into short green boots with pointed toes and rolled tops that formed a cuff. A dark green vest with a high collar left her arms bare except for a simple gold band on her upper arm. She wore a belt with silver clasped pouches. Light glinted off the handle of a dagger that hung from her belt.

"She looks to be well armed too. A bow and a dagger." Mica motioned to a quiver of green feathered arrows resting next to a short white bow.

She closed her book and looked across the light directly at them. "My hearing is also excellent. If you're through discussing me, step into the light and make yourselves known."

Being addressed by the girl shocked both boys. Liam looked at Mica, shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands, palms up. "Now what?" he whispered.

"Not much use standing in the dark. She knows we're here. If it's a trap, it's sprung." Together they stepped into the light.

A smile crept over her face. "Interesting attire for the woods. Have you misplaced your trousers?"

Liam scowled. "Some girl in a pale green dress stole our clothes while we were swimming."

Her smile turned to bubbling laugher and Mica flushed bright red from head to toe.

"Swimming with dryads does come with risk," she said with a smirk.

"She wasn't swimming with us," Liam said, "she came along after we were in the water. We spent hours chasing her through the woods."

Her eyebrows raised. "But why chase a dryad? She would never go far. Your clothes are probably lying by the pond at the foot of her tree. I would have thought everyone from Fairgrove knew about the dryad's pond."

Liam shook his head. "We're not from Fairgrove. No one said anything about dryads when we passed through."

"Oh? Where are you from?"

"No offense, but it's best not to discuss your business with every stranger you happen across in the woods," said Mica.

"Then let me introduce myself. I come from the hamlet of Underhill. I'm known as Willow."

"I'm Mica." He pointed with his thumb. "He's Liam."

"We're from Three Oaks Dale and we work for..." Liam began.

Mica interrupted Liam with an elbow to the ribs. "We're on our way to Yellow Finger Lake. There's a man there who needs help with a cabin."

Giving Liam a knowing wink, Willow turned to Mica with a smile. "It's a long way back to the pond in the dark. Did you plan to travel there tonight?"

"Not much choice in the matter," said Mica.

"My people travel this way often. We have a safe haven built in the tree. If you can climb, you are welcome."

After talking it over, Mica and Liam decided to accept the offer. Little Smoky was already staked out and the cart was hidden in the tall grass. Nothing more could be done that night.

Without a sound, Willow glided up the tree. Soon there was a quiet rustling above as a rope ladder fell through the branches. It snapped to a stop about a foot above the ground sending a few leaves fluttering past Liam's head.

Mica caught hold of the ladder. "You first. I'll steady it."

Liam looked up. The ladder disappeared into the dark branches beyond the lantern's reach. He hesitated. "Maybe we should try to go back to the pond tonight."

"If that little slip of a girl can do it so can you."

"It looks pretty high."

Mica grinned. "She did it without a ladder," and he shook the rope.

Liam took a deep breath and placed his boot on the first rung. It flexed, but held. "Okay, but if there's nothing better than a tree limb to sleep on I'm coming right back down."

Even with Mica holding it, the ladder twisted and swayed under his weight. His heart hammered. His palms started to sweat making it hard to grip the rope. He wondered how high he'd have to climb. Looking up made him dizzy. He was afraid to look down. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on one rung at a time.

Liam forced himself higher and the tree's branches closed in around him. Climbing became easier. Soon he passed through a round hole in a platform illuminated by another lantern.

Willow helped him step off the ladder. "Are you okay?" she asked, still steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. "I've been told that some people are bothered by heights."

"Fine...I'm...fine," Liam said. He did feel better now he was off the ladder. The slight movement of the tree caused the platform to gently sway and he lurched to one side.

"Maybe you should sit down," she said. Liam thought he heard concern in her voice. "Catch your breath. Standing up here is a bit different than standing on solid ground."

The platform wrapped completely around the trunk and was supported by the limbs below. To his dismay, there was no railing. Nothing to stop him from stepping off the edge in the dark. He decided to take her advice. With a weak smile he sat down placing his back firmly against the trunk.

More quickly than he expected Mica's head appeared through the hole followed by the lantern that had been hanging below. To Liam's surprise he showed no signs of being bothered by the height or the swaying platform as he helped Willow pull up ladder.

"I would love to hear more of your adventures with the dryad," Willow said with a twinkling laugh, as she pulled blankets out of a chest near the tree trunk. "But we all need to rise early on the morrow." Handing the blankets to Mica and giving Liam a pat on the shoulder she said, "Make yourself comfortable. Tonight the platform is yours. Sleep wherever you like. I myself prefer to slumber in the high branches where I can feel the wind's lullaby."

With no more sound than a wave of her hand she disappeared up the tree.

Mica handed Liam a blanket. "Right she is. It's been a long day. Tomorrow will be a long walk back."

Liam nodded, wrapped the blanket around himself, and tucked in his feet. Mica put out the lantern and his blanket rustled as he settled in.

Liam lay awake. The platform shifted as the tree swayed. In the darkness the movement made him feel like the wooden planks beneath him were tilting. He was sure that if he fell asleep he would roll off. He pictured crashing through the branches and hitting the hard ground. Lying helpless in the dark at the bottom of the tree.

An owl hooted. Insects buzzed his head. Somewhere below him leaves rustled as some small animal scampered through the thick underbrush. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark he could make out the tree branches above him. They creaked back and forth in the wind scratching against the night sky. A little shiver went down his spine. He was glad Mica was somewhere on the platform. Reaching out a hand behind him he touched the trunk again just to make sure he wasn't close to the edge. Then he closed his eyes.

* * * * *

Liam awoke to the sound of soft voices. Tree bark scratched against his cheek. He rolled over and opened his eyes. The morning sun filtered through the leaves tinting the world in a shimmer of pale green.

Sitting up and looking out from the platform he could see why the elves had picked this tree for a safe haven. A vista of treetops stretched as far as the eye could see. Where the sun touched the top most branches, blooms of stunning color burst forth. Each bloom competing for the attention of thousands of flutterbys that danced on the morning breeze. The beauty of the day washed him clean of the night fears.

As he sat mesmerized by the scene in front of him Willow joined him. "A true marvel is it not?" she asked.

Liam's eyes shone with wonder. "I never guessed all this existed just above my head."

Willow looked out across the trees. "Yes, we are lucky to be here this time of year. There is always beauty here but the flutterbys are my favorite." Turning back to Liam she offered him a package wrapped in leaves. "If you are hungry try this. It's mostly nuts and dried berries. The elves call it fruit of the forest."

Before he could unwrap his breakfast, Mica appeared from the other side of the tree still dressed in nothing but his boots and half of the torn blanket. Liam tried to hide his smile. He knew he looked just as silly, but Mica saw his grin and started to blush.

"It's about time you woke," he said in a gruff voice. "The rest of the world's been stirring for hours. Can we begin our journey now or will you be wanting your breakfast in bed?"

Willow gave Liam a wink and a sly smile. "Maybe you can have your breakfast while we walk. I think our friend finds the morning a little drafty."

Liam coughed into his hand to keep from laughing out loud. He smiled and said, "We will meet you at the bottom of the tree."

By the time Liam had gathered himself together, Mica had already tossed down the ladder and disappeared through the hole in the platform. He walked to the opening and looked down remembering last night's climb. He was not looking forward to getting back on the ladder, but he was sure he couldn't just climb down the tree like Willow.

Sitting down, he swung his feet over the edge. Gripping the platform with one hand and the ladder with the other, he transferred his weight to one of the rungs. His breath caught as the ladder swung out dragging his hand free from the platform. With a wild swing he clutched the ladder with both hands. It jerked to the side, but as soon as Liam managed to center his weight the ladder stopped swinging. After that he was careful to keep his weight balanced in the center and the climb down was much easier.

Willow must have been watching him from above because once he moved away from the ladder she hauled it back up to store it on the platform. Soon there was rustling overhead. Willow dropped out of the branches and flowed down the trunk using her boots and fingertips to slow her decent.

As Willow walked towards them Mica said to Liam in a low voice, "The wonders of this grove are pale compared to her."

Liam turned slightly towards Mica and raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was the first time he had ever heard Mica give a girl a compliment. Before he could say anything, Willow had joined them.

"Well, are you boys ready to collect your trousers from the Dryad?" asked Willow.

From her smile Liam could tell that she was enjoying every minute of their discomfort. He was expecting Mica's temper to flare at her teasing so his response surprised him.

"Nothing could stand before us, with you beside us." His left hand gripped the knot at his waist, and he made a deep bow. With a sweep of his right arm he said, "Lead on!"

Willow and Liam both burst into laughter. With a curtsey befitting a queen, Willow accepted Mica's arm and the three of them walked off towards the Dryad's pond.

With Willow's help they had no trouble finding the pond. Just as she predicted their clothes lay on a large rock near a gnarly old willow. The boys dressed quickly. Soon they were climbing out of the grove.

Liam was looking forward to getting back on the cart and bumping down the road. One quick check for the door when Willow wasn't looking and they could be on their way.

He watched the ridgeline expecting to see Little Smoky gazing down at them, but there was no sign of the donkey. They scrambled up the last few feet. Liam anxiously scanned the meadow. His stomach knotted. It was deserted. Dumbfounded, he turned to Mica.

"Isn't this where we left the cart?" Panic gripped Liam and he frantically checked the meadow again. There was no sign of the donkey or the cart.

"Losing things seems to be a habit with you," Willow said.

Mica said nothing, but slowly paced the meadow in ever widening circles. Suddenly he stopped and picked up something. "Lit' Smoky's lead rope."

Liam followed the rope to where it was still tied to the stake. There lay the ax Mica had used to pound it into the ground.

This was definitely the place. Someone had untied the donkey, and stolen the cart and the door with it. Liam wanted to cry. If only they had kept to the road. What was the Doormaster going to say? What was he going to tell his parents? With the door gone, his apprenticeship was over.

Mica and Willow walked back toward him talking together.

"The tracks lead northward, across the road," Mica said. "I know of no towns out that way."

"They have no need of a town. They are heading for a cave."

"Cave?"

"That's where you'll find goblins."

"How do you know they're goblins?" Liam asked.

"Can you not smell them? Their reek is everywhere. Unless we find them soon, they'll be roasting your donkey for dinner."

Mica's jaw tightened and his eyes hardened. "We need to find them, and soon."

"Mind if I tag along?" asked Willow. "The goblins have stolen from me before and I would welcome a chance to even the score."

Liam glanced once at Mica who gave a faint nod. "We could use the help."

Mica and Willow followed the faint cart tracks through the tall grass. Liam's stomach knotted. He'd never been in a real fight before, but he wasn't going to let his friends go alone. He gripped the ax and trudged along behind them, determined to do his part.

Mica stopped at the bottom of a small green hill. The grass was matted down and chunks of sod had been torn up.

"What happened here?" Liam asked.

Mica examined the ground. "Lit' Smoky is putting up a fight."

"It would appear your donkey is in no hurry to become their servant. If she continues to slow them down we may be able to catch them before they reach their cave."

As the hours passed they continued to find evidence of Little Smoky's distaste of goblins. Freshly torn sod and scuffed earth made it clear they were closing the gap.

Lacking Mica's skill to read the signs, Liam followed behind with the ax weighing heavily on his shoulder. So far he had been of little use on the trip. Mica was the one who knew how to handle the donkey cart and was skilled with a bow. Willow had provided shelter, understood the dryads, and was proving herself an accomplished tracker. All he had done so far was to talk Mica into visiting the grove. Look how that turned out. He shifted the ax and hoped he wouldn't fail when they met the goblins.

His foot struck a rock and he stumbled forward. The landscape had changed while he was lost in thought. Stony ground now replaced the grass. They had tracked the cart into an area of giant rocks. A well-worn path twisted among large boulders, each bigger than the last. They skirted around one of the rocks, and heard the faint sound of angry voices. Cautiously, they crept forward. The voices grew louder until they could make out the words.

"Can't you turn that stupid beast around, Morris?"

"Shut your gob, Philip. We'd have been there by now if you could drive."

Willow peeked around the boulder, then quickly pulled back. "I believe we have found our quarry," she said in a low voice. "Your donkey is still putting up a brave fight, but it's only a couple hundred yards to the cave."

Mica pressed past her to survey the scene. He ducked back and thought for a minute. "The cave is too close. They'll have reinforcements before we can get the cart."

"Let's split up," Willow said. "You go right. I'll go left. We'll have them in the crossfire. Liam, you take care of the cart. We'll take care of the goblins."

Before Liam could protest or ask questions, the two slipped off in opposite directions. Timidly he pressed his face against the rock and peered around.

One goblin yanked at Smoky's bridle. A second goblin sat in the cart whipping the reins. Sweat lathered the donkey's neck. Her wild eyes rolled in terror.

In a fit of rage the goblin in the cart threw down the reins. "Just slit the throat of the stupid beast, Morris. It's less work to just drag in the carcass."

Sun flashed off a dirty blade as Morris pulled a dagger from his ragged clothing. Liam's hands felt clammy. Mica and Willow would never get in position in time to stop the goblins from killing Smoky. Rage filled him. Raising the ax over his head, he flung himself around the rock. A wild scream tore from his throat as he ran toward the cart.

Hearing the cry, Philip jumped up on the seat facing the back of the cart. Both goblins drew their swords. Morris dropped the bridle and turned with a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. From their throats came a series of short explosive barks.

The noise startled the donkey. Braying, Smoky threw her head in the air and bolted. The cart lunged forward, crashing into Morris and pitching Philip face down onto the bed of the cart. The fallen reins caught in the seat jerking Smoky's head to the right. Liam caught up to the circling cart just as Morris struggled to his feet.

Liam swung his ax in a wild arc. It glanced off the goblin's helmet with a loud clang. Morris slumped back to the ground. Dropping the ax, Liam caught Smoky's reins.

"Easy girl. Whoa there." He patted her neck. The donkey stomped and snorted. Finally she stood still, but the cart began to rock. Over the side rail appeared Philip's angry face. His nose was bent. Blood flowed from a gash over one eye. Liam followed the goblin's gaze to where the ax lay on the ground. Philip grinned showing a mouth full of sharp, yellowed teeth.

Throwing one leg over the side, Philip began climbing out of the cart. Muttering an oath, Liam dove for the ax scaring the donkey. The cart jerked forward. Something whizzed overhead. There was a loud thunk. Liam turned to see an arrow with green fletching imbedded inches from Philip's leg. With a snarl and a sharp bark, the goblin dove out the other side and bounded toward the cave.

Mica and Willow dashed up.

"Another inch and I would have had him," Willow said. "Nice job with this one. He'll be out for hours." She shoved Morris with her foot rolling the goblin over. "A sliver scabbard?" she said. She slit the rotting leather belt and pulled it off. "Now why would a goblin need a silver scabbard?" She stepped over the body and picked up the sword. She rotated the blade. Green slime trickled down the metal. "Poison," she muttered, and sheathed the magic blade in the silver scabbard.

Mica ran his fingers over the donkey's head checking the bridle. "Enough talk. There'll be reinforcements soon." He jumped up in the cart.

Liam darted to the back and raised the back panel. The edge of the door was visible. He ran his fingers over it to reassure himself it was real. The cart started to move. He dropped the panel back into place and with a grin hopped into the back.

The trip to the road was hot, the cart reeked of goblins, and Liam was exhausted. None of that mattered. The door was safe and they had survived.

Liam lay in the back of the cart and listened as Mica and Willow discussed how the goblin might have gotten the magic sword. Hot sun shone on his face and he closed his eyes. The gentle rocking of the cart proved to be too much for him, and he fell asleep.

### Chapter 3

Mica woke Liam with a shake. "Rise and shine hero or you'll have no dinner."

Liam rolled over and sat up. It was nearly dark. He must have been sleeping for hours. The cart was stopped in the middle of a small clearing. At the edge of the woods sagged a broken down hovel. "Where are we?" He yawned and looked around. "And where is Willow?"

"Not much to look at but we're at the next journey camp. Willow is headed back to Fairgrove to ask some questions. Seems that sword she took off the goblin was bonded to a poison scabbard. It is well you avoided being nicked by his blade."

Liam stretched and ran his fingers through his hair combing out the straw. "Do you think we will ever see her again?"

"Can't say, but it would be nice to meet her on the way back. She's handy in a fight and easy on the eyes." As Mica spoke, he unhitched Little Smoky from her harness. Once she was free he started to rub her down with a piece of the torn blanket. "I'll tend to Lit' Smoky. Her day was hard and long. If she cools down too fast she'll be sick. Why don't you see what the Doormaster sent for dinner?"

Liam hoisted up the seat and pulled out a cloth bag. After fumbling around inside for a minute he said, "Looks like roasted chicken, dark bread, cheese and cider." Jumping off the cart he said, "The chicken is a little cold, I'll start a fire."

Mica stopped with his hand resting on Little Smoky's neck. "You know...sometimes, I eat my chicken cold." He looked out at the gathering shadows. "We've a few leagues between us and the goblin cave, but a fire can be seen a long way at night."

Liam decided Mica was right, and went to fetch some water before the light completely faded. By the time Mica had Little Smoky staked out and bedded down the stars were coming out. The boys sat in the back of the cart on the straw and ate their dinner cold.

Liam placed the leftovers under the seat. Closing the lid he peered into the darkness. He could hear Smoky grazing close by and could just make out her pale outline. "Do you think the goblins will bother us tonight?"

"Like as not we'll be okay. Goblins aren't likely to walk this far just for a fight." Mica stretched out and pulled his blanket over him.

Liam breathed a little easier. The thought of fighting goblins in the dark was giving him the shakes.

Mica rolled over, turning his back. "In case I'm wrong we'll post a watch. You being the one that had the nap can watch first."

Liam sat straight up. "Wait, you want me...to watch for goblins...in the dark? How will I ever see them coming!"

"Just stay awake. After today I'd be surprised if Lit' Smoky let a goblin near her without raising a fuss." Mica pulled his blanket up to his chin and snuggled down into the straw. "Don't wake me until the moon is high above us."

Liam fumbled around in the cart until he found the ax. Squeezing himself into a corner he huddled there with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. The ax rested across his knees. He strained his eyes, trying to see into the dark. The harder he tried to relax, the more his muscles tightened. He shivered. How would he ever live it down if his shivering shook the cart enough to wake Mica?

He watched. He listened. And waited. Nothing. Nothing jumped out of the woods. Nothing attacked him. He became aware of crickets chirping and tree frogs singing as they courted. Slowly his muscles relaxed. His eyes adjusted, and the inky blackness took on form. Outlined trees painted dark silhouettes against the sky. Nearby bushes created deeper shades of black against the meadow grass.

The moon rose casting a pale light on the woods. Fear ebbed away and the calm night made it hard to stay awake. His eyes began to droop and he stretched. When he yawned, his breath showed in the moonlight. The moon inched up the star filled sky. He nodded, but a rustling jerked him awake.

His fingers closed over the ax handle. There was movement in the woods. He peered into the shadows. Something was there. He shifted into a crouch. A patch of darkness drifted out of the woods. The shadow raised its head and he saw antlers. The deer passed silently through the meadow. Liam leaned back and closed his eyes in relief. Can't be any goblins around for miles, he thought.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but suddenly jerked awake shaking the cart.

Mica rolled over. "Trouble?" he asked. His soft voice showed no fear and reassured Liam.

"Your turn to watch. I can't stay awake any longer," Liam said. As he lay down and closed his eyes he heard Mica yawn and move to the back of the cart.

Liam had no trouble sleeping the rest of the night. He woke to the sound of Mica's voice. He was talking gently to Little Smoky as he fed her a handful of grain and scratched behind her ears.

Liam yawned and stretched. The morning was crisp and bright with only a few stray clouds drifting through the sky. "How far do you think it is to Yellow Finger Lake?" he asked.

Mica led Little Smoky back to the cart. "We should be there before nightfall, barring any more adventures." He hitched the donkey to the cart. With gentle movements he smoothed the traces, ensuring the harness would lay flat and not rub against her hide. "Lit' Smoky's had her breakfast. Check the cart. There must be something there we can eat on the trail. We're still too close to the goblin cave for my liking."

Liam opened the seat and pulled out the sack. As he opened it, the smell of fresh bread flooded out. Someone had replaced last night's leftovers with a bit of aged cheese and bread still warm from the oven. He pulled out an earthenware jug. It was warm in his hand and filled with strong, hot tea. Tucked in the bottom corner was a short round jar of strawberry jam.

Soon the boys were headed down the road, laughing at their good fortune between mouthfuls of cheese and warm bread piled high with sweet jam. As Mica had hoped, no more adventures slowed their progress and they made good time.

Shortly after lunch Liam felt something warm against his chest. The pendant his master had given him was responding to its twin.

"We must be getting close," he said as he removed the chain from around his neck. He held it at arm's length. The pendant swung slightly, pulling to the north. The boys continued down the road watching for side trails. Within half a league the pendant pulled strongly to the north. Looking closely, they spotted a faint track leading into the woods.

Mica pulled back on the reins. "Doesn't look to be much of a trail," he said.

Liam jumped down from the cart. Holding the pendant out in front of him, he walked a little farther down the road. The pendant pointed back towards the trail.

He called back to Mica and grinned. "This must be the way." He was bored with just riding down the road. "We must be getting close."

With a worried scowl Mica turned the cart off the road and Liam climbed aboard. "Hope we don't get stuck or have to turn the cart around on this narrow excuse of a trail, " Mica grumbled. "I sure hope your master knows what he's doing."

Mica skillfully guided the cart along the faint track as it wound its way through the woods, bouncing along over rocks and tree roots. The pendant pulled harder on the chain as they made their way deeper into the woods. On and on they went. The afternoon grew old, but the trees pressed tight against the trail and offered no place to camp.

Liam was starting to get worried. Maybe something was wrong with the magic that bound the pendant, or maybe someone had moved its twin and this was the wrong trail. He looked over at Mica, his wide brimmed hat was tilted back and his eyes squinted in concentration. Mica had not wanted to take this trail but had trusted his decision. He wondered if he should share his fears with Mica. The boys rode on in silence for another league. Liam was about to admit that maybe he had made a mistake when he noticed a break in the trees ahead. The trail climbed one last small hill and ended.

"Whoa girl." Mica stopped the cart at the top of the rise.

Liam stood on the seat and stretched up on his toes in order to get a better view. Sunlight hitting the trees below cast long shadows across a pleasant meadow. The land sloped gently down to the sandy shore of a lake. Near the shore the sun glistened off clear blue ripples. Farther out the water changed to deepest blue. A slight breeze brushed his face with the fragrance of the wild flowers that dappled the meadow. Morning glory vines climbed the trees and spilled into the woods.

"This is truly a kingly sight," Mica said as he tipped his hat to shade his eyes. "It's easy to see why he'd want a door here."

Liam looked down at the pendant he was holding. The chain stretched towards a small outcrop of rock near the meadow's edge. He flopped down onto the seat and pointed. "Looks like over near the rocks is where he wants his door."

Mica snapped the reins and guided the cart across the meadow, following the swing of the pendant.

"Here we are," said Liam and he jumped off the cart. "And here is the other pendant." Reaching out he picked the second pendant off the rock wall where it had been hanging. Mica jumped off the cart and wrapped Smoky's reins around a convenient bush. Liam fished out the silver box the Doormaster had given him and dropped both pendants inside. "We won't be needing these any longer," he said.

Together they slid the door out of its hidden compartment and carried it to the rock face, placing it under an overhanging ledge.

Liam stepped back and considered the placement. "Once it is installed, it will be almost invisible."

Mica nodded. "Good. Let's eat."

They moved the cart down near the lake and Mica unhitched Little Smoky while Liam kindled a fire and spread out their dinner.

The boys were quiet during their late meal, each one thinking of the events of the last few days. When they were done, Liam collected the bowls. Pulling up the cart seat he placed the dirty dishes inside. With a smile he thought about how tired Hodekin must be by now of cleaning up after them.

Looking out across the lake he noticed five white geese swimming towards the shore in a V shape formation. Something peculiar seemed to be following them.

"Hey Mica, is something chasing those geese?"

Mica stood up and shaded his eyes and squinted hard. "Not at all sure." Liam noticed he moved closer to the tree where his bow hung.

The geese swam closer. In their wake Liam could see a small brightly painted boat. The setting sun glinted off silver cords attached to the geese. A little man sat on a raised seat in the bow. With musical chirps on a silver whistle, he directed the geese onto shore. They waddled up the bank pulling the boat behind them. As it left the water the little man braced his feet and heaved back on a lever. Decorative blue spirals on the sides dropped down to become wheels, transforming the boat into a wagon. Man and wagon bounced merrily up the hill behind the geese.

The little man set the brake and leaped from the wagon. Counting his huge floppy hat he stood only eight inches high. Taking a moment, he adjusted his hat, straightened his jacket, and fished a large white pipe from his pocket. He sauntered to their fire and with a grand display promptly lit the pipe.

"Greeting Young Sirs!" he said with a wave. "Dame Fortune has brought us together. You are in the presence of Miraz, Prince of Traders."

He had huge hands for such a small man. His left hand cradled the pipe. The bowl was carved with a scowling face. Liam gazed in wonder as glowing red eyes peered back from beneath bushy brows. The face was wreathed in smoke that flowed down over the edge of the bowl. The strange spicy aroma made Liam think of faraway places.

Miraz strutted in front of his wagon. His short puffy white pants reached just below his knees and long stripped socks covered his skinny legs. He waved his arms sending streams of smoke and showers of glowing cinders through the air. His long red coat with rows of brass buttons billowed out around him.

"Behold! Contained in this wagon are goods most wondrous and rare. Treasures gathered from across the kingdoms for your consideration, edification and gratification."

Liam stared at Miraz with his mouth slightly agape.

"Are you trying to sell us something?" Mica asked.

Miraz stopped pacing and stared back at Mica. "I'm a trader. The speech is part of the show, but if you'd rather skip it..." He smiled and shrugged. "I could show you my wares. If something interests you, perhaps we can arrange a trade."

"There's no harm in looking," Mica said.

The boys seated themselves on the grass. With his pipe clenched tightly in his teeth, Miraz unhitched the geese. "Off you go my pretties. Don't stray too far." He turned to face the boys. "These geese never listen to me. I always have to chase them down."

He bustled back to the wagon. With a flourish he started opening panels and drawers.

"Now then," he said rubbing his hands together. "What can I interest you in? Something for your lady perhaps? I have rings of brass, pearl, intricately carved wood?" They shook their heads. "Well then something for her hair. Nets of silver embedded with pearls or combs carved from shells?"

"An apprenticeship doesn't leave time for meeting girls," Liam said.

"Of course," Miraz said. "Perhaps something for your mother? I have just the thing." He set down the pipe, and from a carved wooden box he lifted out an Abalone shell. He released the clasp and the top of the shell slowly opened. From the bottom a bush sprouted and began to grow. The branches spread out. Pink buds appeared and blossomed into dark pink roses. The flowers faded and the petals fell, carpeting the bottom. The leaves turned golden and mixed with the fallen petals. As the branches withered, the lid slowly closed, sealing with a soft click.

Liam reached for the shell and Mica said, "Do you think that might be a bit dear for your purse?" Liam glanced at Mica and dropped his hand.

"Worry not, if you're short on coins. Possibly something in trade," Miraz said as he slipped the box back into its drawer.

"We have little to trade," Mica said softly. "We are simple men with simple needs."

"Don't be too hasty young sirs. Things that others hold dear may be easier for you to acquire than you think." Miraz cast a practiced eye over Mica. "You sir have the look of one who is comfortable trekking over hill and under tree." With a purposeful stride he moved to the back of the wagon, threw open a set of double doors, and vanished inside. His voice was faint and seemed to echo from the back of the wagon. "I pray your indulgence; I won't be but a moment."

Mica gave Liam a wide-eyed look, but didn't say anything.

"No wonder his wagon can hold so many wonders," Liam whispered. "The doors must all be linked to a warehouse somewhere."

A moment later Miraz backed out of the wagon still talking. In his arms he carried a package wrapped in silver netting. The package bobbed toward them and they caught glimpses of the little man's face as he peered around one side and then the other trying to see where he was going.

"Here it is! Take a look at this." Miraz said.

Mica held out his hand and Miraz let the box fall onto his palm. With a flourish he whipped off the net revealing a brown box about four inches square. A scattering of painted leaves covered the lid.

Mica opened it carefully. Inside were seven loose sheets of stiff paper. Engraved on each card was an exquisite illustration of a plant or toadstool. At the bottom was printed the plant's name, an explanation of where it grew, and how to harvest it.

Mica thumbed through the pages and raised one eyebrow. "Very nice, but it seems a little short."

"Aha, right you are. But as you may have noticed, short is my specialty!" Mica blushed slightly and Miraz carried on with a laugh. "The reason for only seven pages is simple. What you have in your hand is not an unfinished book or a short deck of cards, but a list. Or a catalog if you wish, of things I want and I'm willing to trade for. They are ingredients I use in my salves and ointments. The most valuable are on top. Perhaps you have seen some of these on your travels already?"

Mica looked at the pictures again. "Perhaps. But I would need to compare plants to the pictures to be sure."

"Excellent! Then take it with you. I have other copies. Just be sure to check the box often. It is linked to a master box. The cards change with my needs."

Mica closed the little box and placed it in his belt pouch. "Once I have gathered what you need, how do I find you?"

"Admirable question," Miraz said with a wave of his hand. Just let one of my regular customers know, and they will pass the information on to me." He stroked his chin. "Let me see. There is a baker not far from here. He lives in Fairgrove. Drindle is his name. He will not only be able to pass me a message but will know how to preserve the herbs until I can collect them. Now let's see if I can provide you with a reason to search for my herbs. Perhaps you want something practical, but still unique." He set before them a small armored man made of metal.

"A very handsome soldier. What can it defend?" Mica asked.

"He will defend anything you say...perhaps your garden is overrun with birds." He placed a small metal disk on the ground next to the solider. Immediately the soldier started marching in ever widening circles around the disk. Miraz drew a handkerchief from his sleeve and waved it in the soldier's path. Banishing a spear, the soldier attacked the cloth. "Very alarming if the cloth were a bird." Miraz removed the cloth and the solider resumed his patrol around the disk.

Mica frowned. "Birds need to eat too."

"Ah, an animal lover." He scooped up the soldier and disk and whipped out a tray of whistles. "Calls for animals of all kinds. Birds, squirrel, moose, even fish." Mica leaned forward. Miraz handed him a small wooden one carved like a dove. Tentatively Mica put it to his mouth and blew. It made a soft cooing noise. From the woods came a chorus of answering coos. A look of wonder lit Mica's face and then quickly faded. Liam watched as Mica reluctantly put it back. He knew Mica couldn't afford it. Miraz held up a long slender whistle. "Even works on fish. You could throw away your line and pole." Mica sadly shook his head.

Miraz brought out other wares. He showed them vials of spices, boxes of seeds, and elixirs for curing everything from warts to wrinkles. There was a tiny sewing box with miniature scissors and needles made especially for sprites. There were buttons of every size, shape, and made from everything you could imagine. There was even an egg that glowed brightly in the dark.

Miraz puffed on his pipe. He paced up and down muttering. "What else? What haven't I shown them?"

Liam stared fascinated as a stream of smoke rolled down off the pipe. He couldn't understand why the smoke wasn't rising. The eyes in the bowl glowed bright red. Then Liam saw the lips on the pipe move.

"Sea shells." It was a raspy whisper.

Liam rubbed his eyes, not sure of what he'd seen.

Miraz said, "Yes, sea shells." He turned back to the wagon and brought out a pair of matching sea shells. "A simple amusement. A toy the sea nymphs use to entertain their children."

"They play with shells?" Liam asked, still looking at the pipe.

"Let me demonstrate," Miraz said. "Have you ever placed a shell to your ear and heard the sea?" He handed one of the shells to Liam. "Fasten the clip behind your ear."

Liam twisted the clip until the small shell nestled snugly into his ear. "I don't hear anything," he said.

Miraz tucked the other shell under his arm and carried it a few steps away. He balanced it on a rock and leaned over. When he put his face in the shell it covered everything but his hat.

In his ear Liam heard Miraz whisper, "Such a small item to hold such an extraordinary wonder, is it not?"

Surprised, Liam nodded. "They're bonded," he said to Mica as Miraz walked back. The Doormaster had never spoken of being able to bond objects for sound. "Who bonds the shells?"

Miraz turned a keen eye on Liam. "How remarkably perceptive." One bushy eyebrow disappeared under the brim of his hat. "You are familiar with the craft?"

Liam gave him a hesitant grin. "I'm a junior apprentice to a Doormaster."

Miraz nodded thoughtfully. "It is similar, but this bond occurs naturally. All shells are bonded. The trick is simply to find the pair that makes a set. Anyone who has placed a shell to his ear and heard the sea is merely listening to its bonded mate."

Miraz handed the shell to Mica. "Would you like to try the sea nymph's toy?"

Liam and Mica played with the shells trying them at different distances and even at a whisper. Finally Liam had to ask, "What price would you ask for these?"

"Perhaps, since you are apprenticed in the bonding trade, we could strike a bargain? My geese are quite loyal, but tend to wander overnight. By chance could you suggest something that would assist me in locating them in the mornings?"

Liam tried to think of something that would allow him to keep the shells. He remembered the way the Doormaster's pendants led him to the right location for the door.

Thinking out loud he said, "I can form an attraction bond between objects, but how would a goose carry anything?"

Miraz said, "If you can form a bond between simple iron rings, then banding geese is a simple matter. It has been done for years."

"That is certainly possible. With the materials I have with me, I could make a link that would hold up for a league or two."

"That should be sufficient."

"I will need two rings for each goose. One you will place on the goose. If you suspend the second from a chain, it will swing in the direction of its bonded mate."

"Excellent," Miraz cried. "I will supply the rings. If you create the link, the shells are yours."

"Done," Liam said. "Bring me the rings and tomorrow I will link them."

"Splendid! Let us celebrate our agreement." From the back of the wagon he produced a tiny jug and thimble sized glasses.

As Miraz carefully poured the drinks, Mica gave Liam a questioning look. Liam shrugged, held up the tiny glass and mouthed, "How bad can it be?"

The liquid was thick like honey, smelled like nectar, and its touch on the tongue was as sweet as a smile.

Miraz sat on a step protruding from the wagon. With his pipe in one hand and his drink in the other, he stretched out his legs. Turning his feet one way and then the other he examined his boots in the firelight. "So, what brings you gentlefolk here to the woods?"

Mica spoke up quickly before Liam could answer. "There's a fellow out here that needs our help with some building he's doing."

"Must be a lot of that going on in these woods," Miraz said as he brushed a smudge of dirt off one toe. "Someone's also building on the other side of the lake." He tipped back his head and drained his glass.

The embers in the pipe glowed. Its eyes opened and in a raspy whisper it said, "Just a door."

Miraz chuckled. "Yes...just a door. Blundering dunderhead never got any further. It's been there for months. The thing is enormous."

Mica looked at Liam and raised an eyebrow. The master never mentioned another door out here, Liam thought. He was glad his door was hidden in the shadows of the overhanging rock. The fewer people who knew the location of a magic door the better. He needed to change the subject.

"The rings," he began. "Could I see the rings I'll be enchanting?" he asked.

Miraz looked up. "What's that you say? Oh, the rings. Yes, yes, of course."

He labored to his feet and tugged his jacket into place. Pulling a drawer, he picked out ten iron bands and handed them to Liam. "Will these be to your liking?"

Liam glanced down at the rings. Anything not silver would do. "Yes, these will be fine. I will have them for you early tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Miraz said. "That will fit well with my plans."

The pipe steamed. Words flowed slowly like the smoke that drifted from the bowl. "Farrr...to travel."

"Right you are my faithful companion," Miraz said. He gathered the glasses. "Until tomorrow good gentlefolk." He bowed low and ducked through the door, a stream of smoke trailing behind him.

"Morning comes early," Mica said. "If you plan to link those rings before breakfast, we'd best get some sleep."

* * * * *

Liam had hardly closed his eyes when a slap from Mica's hat jolted him awake. "Sun's up apprentice. It's daylight in the swamp."

He rolled over. The sun was just clearing the trees. He rubbed his face and yawned.

"Don't you have bonding to do?" Mica asked. He walked over to Smoky and gave her the last bit of the apple he was eating for breakfast.

Liam remembered the shells and jumped up. Hastily he gathered his components and went to work on bonding the rings. By the time he finished he was ready for breakfast and needed more than just an apple. He laid the rings on a flat rock near the fire and checked the cart to see what he could find.

Mica had finished brushing Little Smoky. He wandered back to the fire and picked up a ring. "They don't look real impressive. Will they work?"

"They'll work," Liam said around a mouthful of cheese. "If you need proof, we can test them."

Mica scooped half of the rings into his belt pouch. "I've been wanting to see what's on the far side of the lake ever since we got here." He clipped one of the shells over his ear. "Let's test these too." Slipping his bow over his shoulder, he strode off toward the lake.

Liam packed up his tools cleaning each one meticulously as the Doormaster had taught him and stored them in the cart seat.

He heard muffled voices coming from behind Miraz's wagon. Quickly he closed the lid and jumped down from the cart. As he came around the trader's wagon he saw the little man sitting on his back steps. Yellow smoke curled over the pipe bowl, wreathing his hand. Spicy aroma filled the air and tickled Liam's nose.

"Perfect morning!" called Miraz. "Join me good fellow. Nothing better than pleasant company and a good smoke."

Liam looked around. "I thought I heard you talking to someone. Do you already have company?"

Miraz raised the pipe, sending embers flying in a small arc. "Tis only Griswald here with me. He's a faithful companion and trusted confidante, though I wouldn't often call his company pleasant." The scowl on the pipe's face deepened and the eyes glowed red.

Liam wanted to ask about the pipe, but the face glared at him. Its eyes glowed like burning coals, and the words caught in his throat.

Miraz looked out across the water. "I always liked this spot. The lake is a nice place to rest my geese. Fresh water, sweet grass."

"You pass this way often then?"

"Regular as clockwork. Every full moon will find me with new wonders for those with a discerning eye for the unique."

Smoke billowed from the pipe. "Barrring goblins..." it steamed with a hiss.

"There is that, Griswald. Goblins are interfering with the western routes, but they haven't come this far yet."

A loud honking from across the clearing interrupted the conversation. Miraz jumped up. "Ah, the morning is aging. There must be road dust on your boots before there's gold dust in your purse. I need to gather my geese."

At a rolling gate, Miraz moved off into the woods. His coattails swirled around his legs giving glimpses of the striped stockings. Liam was surprised at how quickly he covered the ground. Soon he was out of sight, but his cheery voice could still be heard calling to his geese.

From the shell behind his ear Liam heard Mica's voice. "Hoy, Liam?"

"Mica?"

"I've been testing the rings as I walked. Your bonding is strong."

"Miraz is rounding up his geese. I can see why he needs the rings. It will take him a while. How long before you're back?"

"I'm at the far end of the lake. Might as well continue on around. It's just as short forward as back."

"I'll tell Miraz we've tested the rings and you're on your way here."

By the time Miraz had finished rounding up his geese and packing his wagon, Liam could see Mica moving along the lakeshore. It didn't take long to band the geese and soon Miraz was in the wagon.

"Many thanks for the remarkable rings. Look for me here when the moon rises full. If I glimpse your campfire through the trees, my geese and I will swing by with a fresh stock of rare and amazing wonders."

With an extra loud honk on his whistle, he set the geese off down the hill with the wagon bouncing behind them. Just before they reached the lake they took to the air dragging the wagon behind them. As the wheels left the ground, Miraz pulled another lever. Indigo wings sprang from the sides with a pop, transforming the wagon into a flying vessel. Geese, wagon, and trader wheeled out over the lake and disappeared behind the trees.

Liam turned to Mica. "Have you ever met anyone quite like Miraz before?"

"He's one of a kind for sure. I never saw such a pack of marvels. Maybe I'll stop back this way if I ever have a coin to spare."

His wistful tone surprised Liam. Before he could say anything Mica said gruffly, "Let's finish the Doormaster's business." He led the way back to the cliff where the door stood shadowed by the overhang.

The boys built a structure to anchor the frame to the rock. When it was finished, they shoved the door into place.

Liam struggled to balance it. "This thing's heavy," he said.

"Hold steady now. Whining won't ease the load. At least it's smaller than the one across the lake." Mica drove in the last peg. "That's it. Your grief is over."

"'Bout time," Liam muttered and gratefully dropped his arms. He bent down to help Mica pick up the tools. "So, you saw the door that Miraz told us about?"

"Hard to miss," Mica said as he headed back to the wagon. "The ground was stomped flat all around and the bloody thing must be thirty hands high."

"That's twice my height. Who would have need for a door that size out here? The closest village is Fairgrove."

"There were strange prints nearby too."

"What kind of prints?"

"Can't say for sure. The ground was too hard."

"Let's go look. I'm sure if it was made by the Doormaster I could tell."

"First we need to finish the task at hand," Mica said. "The king's door still needs to be tested."

Liam knew Mica was right. He wanted to see the giant door, but it would have to wait. Turning his thoughts to the task at hand he stood in front of the door and nervously smoothed the front of his robe. He'd never been to the castle before. Wishing for a mirror he ran his hands through his hair. It was the best he could do.

Methodically, he began going through his pockets checking for magical items. Remembering the shell behind his ear, he pulled it off slowly. For a moment he studied it. "Best not to take any chances," he said. He dropped it into his silver lined pouch and tucked it into his pocket. Then he opened the door.

A dim corridor stretched before him lit by widely spaced fire globes. From the far end he could hear the sound of footsteps and scraps of conversations.

"Seems to be working," he said. "I'll try the shell after I've collected payment." He stepped from the grassy meadow into the stone corridor. The door closed behind him shutting out the sunlight. He stood for a moment letting his eyes adjust to the fire globe's faint light.

Doors lined the long hallway with small wooden plaques hanging over each one. He looked above his door. The plaque there was crown shaped. Painted on it in vivid detail was a small black boat with royal purple sails bobbing on blue waves.

The noise seemed louder to his right, so he turned and followed the sounds down the corridor. The light brightened as he reached the end of the hallway. He looked out into a large oval room brightly lit with fire globes. Tall smooth walls made the room into an inescapable pit. The only way out was on a platform that was raised with a series of ropes and pulleys.

People with handcarts and bundles streamed into the room, emerging from the many corridors that led into the pit like spokes on a wheel. Large wooden signs hanging from heavy chains marked the openings. Brightly painted images depicting well-known star clusters of the night sky decorated the signs.

Liam was captivated by the artist's work. Each illustration was more intriguing than the last. A ramping lion hung above the corridor he had just left. Across the room the wild eyes of a charging bull seemed to follow his movements.

Liam jumped when strong fingers seized his arm and jerked him aside. He spun quickly to see who gripped him. A burly giant covered in chain mail towered over him. At his side hung a plain functional sword. Both weapon and warrior had seen some wear, but the metal shone and the man's eyes glinted in the dim light. Behind him a shield with the king's insignia leaned against the wall.

"'Ere now boy, yer stemin' the flow. State yer business." Liam looked up into the grizzled face of the palace guard.

"Beg pardon, sir. This is my first time here. I just finished installing a door for the king."

The guard's face softened. "Ifen it's the king's business ya be on, you'll need to speak to I'llaskya." He nodded toward a wizened elderly gnome perched on a tall stool behind an old, much used table. The gnome bent over a thick ledger making notations with a long quill pen. Several people with carts and packages waited in line. Behind the table, a platform full of goods was being raised to the top of the pit.

Liam's gaze was drawn across the room. A young girl in a flowing sea green gown walked beside a tall man. His searing white robe shone like a beacon in the crowded room. Liam took a step forward, but the flow of people pushed him back toward the wall. He bobbed and stretched, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl. For a second their eyes met, and she smiled.

His foot bumped against something hard sending him sprawling across the top of a low wooden crate. He scrambled to his feet and looked back across the room. The girl's eyes sparkled as she giggled behind her hand. He felt his face flush. "That wasn't the impression I was hoping to make," he fumed.

Unaware of the girl's merriment, the stately man in the white robe continued walking. He gestured grandly as he lectured to the young girl. The ever-moving crowd closed around them, and Liam lost sight of her.

He scowled down at the crate. The image of a crudely painted boar's head marked the hinged lid. It's red eye glared back at Liam. He gave the crate a half-hearted kick, and the catch rattled.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and the guard laughed kindly. "Steady boy. Yer not der first ta fall fer Lady Belinda. Some say she's bonny nuff ta be a princess herself."

Embarrassment jammed the words of thanks in Liam's throat. He nodded, brushed himself off, and took his place in line.

When it became his turn he stepped up to the table.

"I'llaskya yer business," the gnome growled in a bored voice without even looking up.

Liam smiled as he realized how the gnome got his name. "I'm on my master's business. Here to report that the king's door has been installed at Yellow Fingers Lake."

"Are ye now?" One bushy eyebrow raised and he evaluated Liam with a critical gaze. Slowly he reached for a small brass bell that sat on the corner of his desk. With a flick he gave it a sharp jingle. One of the servants working on the loading platform plodded over.

"Tell Alabaster that the 'prentice he's been spectin is here." He waved a grizzled hand at Liam. "Step ta the side young'un. I'spect the wizard will want a word with ye."

Liam moved out of line. Following the servant with his eyes, he watched him approach the man in the white robe. The servant pointed in his direction. Liam was dismayed as the tall man and the pretty girl looked his way. Just my luck, he thought. People scurried to make way for the wizard.

"Ah, you must be the Doormaster's promising young apprentice. Liam, I believe. Let me introduce myself. I am Alabaster, Weapon Master to the King." With a graceful sweep of his arm he said, "This is the charming Lady Belinda, handmaiden to Princess Jenna."

Liam turned to Belinda. Her fiery red hair flowed down past her shoulders, caught in a net of silver. Green eyes, darker than her gown, twinkled up at him. A light sprinkling of freckles dotted her cheeks giving her a mischievous presence. He knew he was staring, but he was unable to look away.

Seconds ticked past. A smile pulled at one corner of Belinda's mouth.

"You are apprentice Liam, are you not?" Alabaster asked.

Liam jerked his gaze away from Belinda. "Uh, uh...yes Sir, I'm Liam. You...you, know my name?"

"Knowing things comes in handy if one wishes to become the King's own Wizard," he said as he stroked his pointed chin. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Uh...yes Sir," stammered Liam, still wondering why a wizard like Alabaster would want to know his name. Then he remembered why he was there. "Sir, I've just completed installing and testing the king's door."

"Then all that is missing is your payment. I shall inform the paymaster; however, these matters take some time. Your gold should be ready before the evening bell."

"Sir, where should I wait –?"

Before he could finish, a page dressed in a diamond checked purple and white tunic bearing the king's black peregrine insignia ran up. "Sir," he said handing Alabaster a sealed parchment. "From the king."

"Oh bother," Alabaster grumped with a grin. He broke the seal and scanned the message. "I'm sorry my dear," he said to Belinda. "Only the king's business could tear me away, but it seems there is a package arriving that he wishes me to see. Probably some new sword or dagger that needs enchanting."

"I understand," Belinda said. "Perhaps another time."

Alabaster nodded. After a quick word to the paymaster he swept off down one of the side corridors with the page, his mind already on other matters.

"It seems my escort has been called away," Belinda said. "Perhaps you would care to accompany me to lunch?"

"You honor me, m'lady. But I need to tend to my master's business."

"You still need to eat do you not? If the gold arrives before you return the paymaster will keep it safe."

Liam could not believe his good fortune. It seemed this beautiful girl wanted to spend time with him. "Then lead the way."

Belinda took Liam's arm and steered him around the desk to the loading platform. "Hold tight to the railing. The first time is a little tricky."

With a jerk the platform started to rise catching both of them by surprise. Liam lurched into the rail and Belinda stumbled against him. To his delight she was suddenly in his arms. This was the first girl he had ever hugged, other than his mother. He didn't want it to end and he took his time letting her go. "Are...are you okay?" Liam stammered as he looked down at her.

Belinda looked up smiling, "Fine, but I believe you are standing on my dress."

Flustered, Liam quickly removed his arm and stepped back. What a fool I am, thought Liam. I thought she was standing there because she liked me hugging her and all the time I was standing on her dress. He could feel his face growing hot. Knowing he was blushing, he looked over the side in an effort to hide his embarrassment.

Below him he could see the entire floor of the receiving pit. All manners of boxes, crates, casks, carts and bundles were flowing in. From all over the kingdom merchants traveled through the magic doors to bring their goods to the castle. Most of the traders were men, but other races were there too.

Liam caught a glimpse of two elves carrying a fine tapestry rolled up like a carpet and slung between their shoulders. Near the wall a dwarf in full plate armor struggled to drag an iron bound chest. A small company of gnomes slowly pushed a three-wheel cart across the floor. Their leader gestured wildly and screeched in a high-pitched voice at anyone who came within arm's reach.

Belinda stepped up beside Liam. "It is quite the spectacle is it not? All those people and goods...and everything has to be pulled up with this lift."

"This is the only way up?" asked Liam, his curiosity overcoming his embarrassment.

"Oh yes, Alabaster was explaining it all to me before he was called away. As you can see, goods come here from all over the kingdom," she said pointing to the floor below. "If the doors opened directly into the castle, it would be an easy matter for an invading army to capture some merchant's door and force their way in. But the doors all open into this pit and it takes but a single man to cut the rope that raises the lift."

"Still, now you think about it, doesn't it seem a little dangerous having all those doors opening to who knows where?"

"Belinda pointed to the ledge running along the top of the pit. "Alabaster tells me that if the alarm is sounded the pit will be ringed with archers in minutes."

The platform reached the top. With a soft thump it bumped to a stop. Workmen with carts and barrows were waiting to unload the platform. Liam and Belinda quickly moved past them. The guard nodded to Belinda.

Near the platform the hall was filled with workers moving the goods into nearby storerooms. The noise and bustle died down as they moved down the hall.

"This must be your first time to the castle," said Belinda.

"Is it that obvious?" asked Liam.

Belinda cocked her head and smiled, "Well you did make quite an entrance."

Liam ran his hand through his hair self-consciously, "I must have seemed quite the fool...falling over that crate?"

Belinda giggled and placed her hand on his arm. "To have a man fall for her is quite a compliment actually."

Her frankness surprised Liam. His awkwardness faded and he began to relax. "In a castle like this you must have many suitors to choose from," he said.

"I grew up in a small village north of here. I find these strutting court dandies lacking. Most are spoiled and incompetent, fearful of straying too far from their mother's touch. I long to find one who is able to speak of something other than one's self. But enough of that, I am hungry. Shall we find something to eat?"

Liam nodded and the two continued down the hall towards the kitchen.

For all of her talk about being from a small town, Belinda took pride in the castle and was more than willing to tell Liam about anything that he asked. They passed by dozens of doors. Occasionally one would be open giving him a glimpse of heavy ornate furniture and walls draped with rich tapestries. One was filled from floor to ceiling with tall cases stacked with leather books. The sheer size of the castle amazed him.

She guided him upstairs, down halls and around corners until he was quite confused. Liam was starting to suspect that they were lost when his nose detected the smell of fresh bread.

Belinda stopped in front of a large wooden door at the end of the hall. "Here we are, Lumba's kitchen, where good food and abuse flow in abundance. Don't be fooled by his gruff manner. It's just his way of protecting his soft heart. When I first came to the castle I use to come down here because the kitchen reminded me of home. I think Lumba kind of adopted me."

Belinda swung open the door. A wave of warmth struck Liam, washing him in a sea of savory smells that reminded him of his mother's kitchen on feast day. The large room bustled with activity all directed by a great ox of a man.

The door had hardly closed before the kitchen master descended upon them. His rolling gait propelled him across the room. Towering over them he wiped his hands on his stained apron. Taking no notice of Liam, he beamed at Belinda. "Bless my pots, 'tis the Lady Belinda it is come to see old Lumba. Good on ya dearie!" Wrapping his huge hand around her tiny fingers he led her towards a small table in the corner. "Ya be looking a bit peaked. How 'bout a nice hot bowl of barley stew and a warm bit of spiced bread?"

"That would be wonderful," said Belinda as she turned towards Liam. "I was hoping you would have enough for me and my friend."

The big man seemed to notice Liam for the first time. Placing his hands on his hips he scowled down at him. "Who's this stray ya've dragged into my kitchen?" he growled.

"Kitchen Master Lumba, I would like to present Doormaster's Apprentice Liam. He has just installed a magic door for the king." Standing on her tiptoes she pulled Lumba closer and whispered loudly, "Stop trying to scare him, he's nice."

Lumba squinted suspiciously and eyed Liam up and down. Then he offered his hand to him. "The lass seems ta think ya might be a bit of all right."

Liam took Lumba's offered hand. "An honor to meet you sir."

Lumba squeezed Liam's hand tightly. He pulled him close and Liam felt the big man's hot breath on his face. "I ain't no sir," he snarled. "It's 'er you'll be 'onoring or I'll be feeding ya your own innards."

"Lumba!" Belinda said and stomped her tiny foot.

Lumba let go of Liam's hand and threw a wink at Belinda. "If en 'e wants to play the game 'e should be knowing the rules. Now 'ave a sit and I'll 'ave old Foogle bring your food. I've a castle ta feed." And off he went.

Belinda cast a worried look at Liam. "Please don't judge him too harshly. He can be quite nice when he wants to."

Liam looked across the room at Lumba. "And quite scary too," he said with a grin. "I'll try to remember not to anger him."

As Liam sat down his hand bushed the lump in his pocket, and he remembered the shell that was linked to Mica's. Taking it out he showed it to Belinda. "Have you ever seen a shell like this?" He placed it in her hand. "It lets people talk to each other at a distance. I got it from a trader."

Belinda looked at the shell. "Its shape is a little odd, but it doesn't look magical."

"Ah, a skeptic I see. My friend is at Yellow Finger Lake. Shall we test it?" He held out his hand and she dropped the shell onto his palm. Liam placed the shell behind his ear. "Mica can you hear my voice?"

Mica responded immediately. "Surely. Where are you?"

Liam couldn't resist boasting about his good fortune. "I'm in the castle having lunch with a very pretty girl."

"Right, and I'm dining with the king."

Liam laughed. "I know. I'm having trouble believing it myself. Wait, I'll ask her if she would like to speak to you. Her name is Lady Belinda." He took the shell from behind his ear and offered it to her. "Would you like to talk to my friend Mica? He doesn't think you are real. Just hook it behind your ear and you will be able to talk to him."

Belinda studied the shell carefully, turning it over in her hand. Then brushing her hair back she hooked it behind her ear. Looking at Liam she asked, "Now I talk and someone will hear my voice?"

Before Liam could answer, Belinda's eyes got wide. "What a clever trick. It sounds like someone is talking from inside the shell."

Liam smiled. "No, my lady. The shells are linked and carry the sound of voice between them."

Without the shell Liam couldn't hear what Mica was saying, but it brought a giggle to Belinda's lips.

From out of the bustling kitchen Foogle appeared with a tray stacked with food. He placed it on the table and quickly disappeared.

Belinda said, "Perhaps someday we will meet and I will be able to match your quick wit to a face. But for now I think I will return the shell to Liam."

Liam placed the shell back behind his ear. "As much as it grieves me I must turn my attention to the lady and the food she has kindly provided."

"Enjoy yourself while you may," Mica remarked. "You're facing a cold bed tonight and a long journey home tomorrow."

Liam laughed. "I will return before nightfall with the payment." Smiling he returned the shell to his pouch.

As they talked, Belinda's mischievous smile and openness put him at ease. Afterward he couldn't remember what they talked about, but sharing the simple meal with her was better than any feast day he could recall.

They sat at the corner table talking long after the meal was done. Lumba threw them several scowling looks, but Liam didn't want to leave Belinda's company. Finally, he could put it off no longer.

"I don't want this to end, but my friend Mica is waiting back at camp. We have an early start in the morning."

"Yes, I've been away from my duties too long as well."

On their way out Belinda thanked Lumba with a smile and a wave. She hurried Liam out the door in order to save him from another lecture.

The trip back was much too short. Liam walked slowly and Belinda matched his steps. As they neared the platform, Liam hesitated and they both stopped. "Thank you, this has been a day I'll long remember."

"I will remember it fondly also," said Belinda. "Perhaps someday chance will bring you back."

Liam reached into his pouch. His heart was thumping in his chest. Before he could change his mind he blurted out, "I wish you to take this." He pressed the shell into her hand. I will wear its mate behind my ear after the evening meal until I go to bed. Simply whistle and I will hear you."

Smiling Belinda took the shell. "I will look forward to hearing your voice."

Liam squeezed her hand and gathered his courage. He leaned forward hoping for another hug but a movement in the shadows caught his eye. Belinda turned to follow his gaze. In the darkness of the archway loitered an unkempt page. His dirty tunic showed the signs of his last meal. He gave them a lopsided smile but made no attempt to move on.

Belinda backed away slightly and Liam knew the moment was lost. Clearing his throat he said, "Just remember the shell is magic and it must be shielded with silver if you wish to take it through a magic door."

"I'll remember," said Belinda and they continued on down the hall.

At the platform she said a quick good bye. "I fear by now the princess has risen from her nap and is terrorizing the maids. Fare you well until next we meet."

Liam barely had time to wave before Belinda's green gown disappeared around the corner. Thoughts of her drifted through his mind as he rode the platform down, picked up his payment, and returned to camp.

When he stepped through the magic door, Mica was sitting by the fire. "Ah the dandy's returned." Mica stoked the fire with another log. "And did he have the wits to remember why it was he went?"

Mica sounded cross but Liam could see the smile he was trying to hide all the way across the camp.

"Of course." Liam removed the purse from his belt and jingled the coins. He swaggered over to the cart. "Conveyed, installed and invoiced." He dropped the coin purse through the magic door under the seat. "All in a day's work." Liam made a show of dusting off his hands. "Some work days are just more enjoyable than others. Can't be helped really." Liam was smiling so hard his face hurt, but he couldn't stop.

The rest of the afternoon was spent cleaning up the camp and preparing for an early start the next day. While they worked Liam babbled with enthusiasm, telling Mica everything that happened at the castle. Mica laughed out loud when he heard about him falling over the crate while Belinda watched.

After dinner Mica winked at Liam and volunteered to clean up. With a grin of thanks Liam placed the shell behind his ear and walked down to the lake. He hoped Belinda would use the shell tonight. Finding a spot at the foot of a tall tree he made himself comfortable. Before long he heard Belinda whistle a short little tune. Soon they were talking and laughing as they told each other about their day. Long before he was ready to say good night, Belinda told him she had to put the princess to bed.

"Worry not. We will talk again tomorrow eve," Belinda assured him. "Fair well until then."

The shell went quiet. He knew she had put it away for the night. Smiling he rested his head against the tree and let his mind drift across the wonders of the day. The sun slowly sank and shadows closed in around the lake. Pushing himself up, Liam stood. Stiffly he made his way back to camp stumbling over the rough patches in the dark.

The camp was quiet. Mica was already lying in the back of the cart wrapped in a blanket. Liam banked the fire and checked on Smoky, then found his own blanket. What a wonderful day he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

### Chapter 4

The next day Liam woke to the sounds of birds and the sun peeking through the trees. He lay on the soft straw watching the play of light and shadow cast by the leaves. His mind wondered back to Belinda. He smiled. Yesterday seemed like a dream. He didn't want to move and shatter the mood but the smell of wood smoke and Mica's cooking brought a growl to his stomach. With a yawn and a sigh he threw off his blanket and joined Mica at the fire.

"Morning to you Liam! If it's hungry you be then its lucky you are. Come and see what the Doormaster has sent for breakfast." Mica sat on a stump leaning over the fire with a smile on his face and a long handled skillet in his hand.

Liam did feel lucky. "Hurrah! No porridge for us. Today it's flat cakes and hen's eggs!"

Mica flipped the last flat cake out of the skillet onto the top of the huge stack. "Check the basket."

When he looked, Liam found honey-butter for the cakes. He pulled out two chilled jars of milk. Thick cream floated at the top. Frost still clung to the outside.

In the bottom of the basket, wrapped in a cloth, were a dozen fresh strawberries. Liam looked up at Mica. "It seems the Doormaster is pleased with our effort."

Mica set aside the skillet and picked up a plate. "And I with his! Let us be sure it's not wasted."

Laughing at Mica, Liam grabbed his own plate and a stack of flat cakes. Together the boys worked their way through the huge breakfast.

Liam gathered up the dishes. "I'll take care of these," he said. Still in high spirits, he whistled a few notes as he carried the dishes back to the cart. A sudden smile broke across his face as he realized it was the same tune that Belinda whistled last night in the shell. The thought of her made even the mundane tasks easy.

He was still smiling when he slung back the lid on the cart seat and stacked the dishes inside. He was about to close it when something caught his eye. There in the corner sat two small brown pouches and a note.

Mica must have missed these, he thought. The pouches jingled merrily when he lifted them.

The note was written in the Doormaster's flowing script. "Well done lads, the king's men are pleased with your labor. Here is a little coin for each of you. Spend it wisely or lavish it on fancy. It is yours to enjoy. Have a care traveling the road." It was signed, Doormaster Ogden.

Across the bottom he had added. "Even Hodekin is wishing you a speedy return, although I suspect that may be due to the extra dishes he has had to clean lately."

With a whoop Liam dropped the lid and danced back to the fire where Mica was sitting. "The master was more pleased than we thought," he said. "Your share of the bounty." He tossed one of the pouches to Mica. "To spend however you may wish."

Mica weighed the pouch in his hand and smiled when he looked inside. "You are apprenticed to a generous man. The amount is more than fair."

They wasted little time breaking camp. By midmorning Little Smoky was hitched up and the cart was pointed towards home.

With Mica at the reins Liam looked back at the camp one last time. A lot had happened there in just a few short days. Almost to himself he said, "I wonder how often the king will even visit here. A shame to waste such a pleasant place."

He turned his head back to the trail and caught a glimpse of deep blue wings and a bright yellow head sailing through the trees. He opened his mouth to tell Mica, but before he could even blink the Emperor Bird was gone. Seeing the rare bird again so soon was almost too much to believe. Maybe he would tell Mica later.

Mica skillfully guided Little Smoky down the faint trail through the woods. Liam's eyes drooped. Tall trees blocked out most of the sun. His full stomach and the cool green shadows made him sleepy. How nice it would be to stretch out in the back of the cart and sink down into the soft straw.

The wheels bumped over a tree root jarring him out of the pleasant thoughts. Sighing, he shifted on the hard seat and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't be comfortable sleeping while Mica did all the work. So he decided to make the best of it and enjoy the sights and smell of the woods. But the jolts along the way made it difficult. It was a relief when the trail finally joined the main road and the ride became smoother.

The trees lining the road still provided patches of shade, but nothing like the shadows of the deep woods. Little Smoky was well rested. Her hooves nearly danced down the road. It was a perfect day to travel.

By early afternoon they reached the campsite where Liam had spent his restless night watching for goblins. Mica pulled the cart off the road and stopped near the sagging hovel. Little Smoky stamped the ground and tossed her head. Liam was ready to get down and stretch his legs. He stood up, but Mica placed a hand on his arm. "Something's not right here."

Liam sat back down. In a low voice he asked, "What is it?" Little Smoky stomped her front feet again.

"I don't know. Something is spooking Lit' Smoky...maybe goblins. Let's go on down the road and find a place where the goblins might not think to look for sleeping travelers."

With a nod, Liam sat down. They turned the cart back to the road and traveled several leagues until they found a spot to their liking.

For two days they avoided the established camps and fell into a watchful routine. Well before nightfall, they pulled the cart far off the road and made do without a fire. They took turns keeping watch and didn't stray from camp after dark.

Just before sundown, Mica scouted around the camp. Liam placed the shell behind his ear and talked to Belinda. They laughed together over the antics of the court dandies and their petty intrigues. He downplayed the danger of the goblins, but told her about the rough road. When he described the beautiful colors of the emperor bird, he was surprised that she knew about the birds and had seen them at the castle.

* * * * *

Early afternoon on the third day, they reached Fairgrove. People strolled through the streets calling greetings to one another and pausing to talk to shopkeepers about their wares.

This is more like it Liam thought. Maybe this time they could explore the town.

"Let's get a room at the inn," Liam said. "The door has been installed and who would want to steal this cart. It's not much more than a pile of slivers."

Mica laughed. "True. Brushing against this cart is like petting a hedgehog. A soft bed would be a nice change at that."

"Hooray!" Shouted Liam throwing his hands into the air. The noise spooked Lit' Smoky and she shied sideways dragging the cart.

"Whoa, there. Easy girl." Mica steered the cart back to the middle of the road. With a frown he turned to Liam. "That was a fool thing to do. We bust up this cart and the only way home is a long walk."

"Sorry," Liam said. He felt like a child. "I wasn't thinking."

Mica turned his attention back to the road. "Okay, let's see what the innkeeper has to offer."

Liam almost shouted again. A stern look from Mica stopped him short, but he didn't try to hide his huge grin.

The old one-eyed innkeeper remembered them. He met them with a scowl, but that soon changed when he saw their coin. He was smiling as he led the way to a small, reasonably clean room in the back. It suited the boys just fine. Soon they were washed and ready to see what Fairgrove had to offer.

They walked down the street peering into shops. The little leather pouch of coins the Doormaster had given him bumped at his side. It was lighter after splitting the cost of the room with Mica but it still held a few coins.

Before they had gone very far Liam discovered Fairgrove was not as large as he thought, just a village really. The shops were clustered loosely together with other buildings mixed in. What at first glance appeared to be a large market area was a sleepy little village square. Most of the places were just houses or storage buildings and the shops held little to interest him.

"Not as much to see as I thought," said Liam. "Our own dale has more to offer."

"Were you expecting silks and jewels?" said a voice behind them.

Liam jumped, and spun awkwardly around, stumbling into Mica.

With a shove Mica pushed him away. "Oy! You've two good feet. There's no need to be walking on mine."

A fit of laughter turned both their heads. Willow lazed in a shop doorway, one shoulder against the frame. "Well, again we meet." A stunning smile lit her face as she pushed away from the doorway to join them. "What grand occasion brings you two well dressed heroes to Fairgrove?"

Liam felt his cheeks redden as he remembered what he had been wearing the first time they met. He shot a glance at Mica. If the comment bothered him, he was hiding it well. His face was split in a wide grin. "Willow, a pleasure it is to see you. Liam is trying to spend his last few coins. Care to join us?"

Willow cocked her head. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Liam. "People living here in the shadow of the Great Northern Wood tend to be strong willed and practical. These proud woodsmen take their living from the great forest itself."

"I was hoping that the shops here would offer something different than at home," Liam said.

Willow shrugged. "The village is often lashed by winter storms for days, leaving everything buried beneath layers of snow. At times things much worse than storms are blown out of the woods. The stores here stock their shelves with sturdy, well made items. Goods made to last, not simply to catch one's eye."

Frustration flowed though Liam, and his shoulders slumped. His chance to find something pretty for Belinda was slipping away. He wanted to surprise her next time they met.

Willow's voice softened. "Take heart. If you are up for the quest perhaps you will still find something to catch your eye and lighten your purse."

Slipping a hand under the arm of each boy she said, "Come, I'll be your guide." And with that she led them down the street.

They had not gone far when the smells of warm bread tickled Liam's nose. It reminded him of his mother and home in the vineyard.

He closed his eyes and breathed in. Memories rushed over him of lying snug in his bed on chilly mornings and listening as his mother moved about in the kitchen humming softly to herself as she baked the morning bread.

He felt a gentle tug on his arm.

"Hey, will you be coming with us?" asked Willow.

Liam's eyes popped open. "Ah, sure...sure," he said. He looked around trying to tell where the smell was coming from.

"Mica looked back at him with a grin, "If it's a nap you're needing we could prop you against some handy wall. Maybe swing past to pick you up on the way back?"

Liam smiled at Mica. "I think I can hold out a little longer." He motioned with his head. "Let's see what's down this street." Following his nose he led the others down a twisting little side lane. The wonderful baking smells were coming from a shop with a large round window. A sign in the shape of a pie, engraved with the king's mark, hung over a bright red door.

He stopped and leaned forward to peer into the window. His stomach growled at the abundant display. Tarts decorated with fancy frostings sat next to round loaves of white and brown bread. Some were topped with glazed nuts, others with toasted seeds. Delicate little cakes sat cooling on tin sheets, brightly colored icing dripping down to form little pools of sweetness.

Willow read the sign, "DRINDLE'S - Purveyor to the KING. Your friend has fancy tastes," she said to Mica. "This man sells his bread to the king."

"Drindle. That's a name I've heard before. The king's own baker you say? Well then, perhaps he might be good enough for us. What say you Liam? Shall we sample his wares or would you prefer to just leave a few nose prints on his window for him to remember you by?"

Liam jumped back from the window feeling like some rustic who had never seen a baker's shop before. "Just looking," he said defensively. Then smiled and said. "It smells so good, let's go inside." Not waiting for a reply he pulled on the large brass handle to open the door. "Come on," he said. Together they entered the shop.

The wonderful smells engulfed Liam. He drifted from one display to another, unable to decide which delicacy he liked best.

Mica walked past the tempting pastries, and made his way to the back of the shop where a tall gangly man towered over the counter. His floppy white hat all but covered his short gray hair. The long sleeves of his red and white striped shirt were rolled up high, revealing matchstick arms and pointy elbows sticking out from his sides. A smudged apron circled his narrow waist. He watched Mica approach.

"Your pardon sir," said Mica. "I wonder if I could have a word with the owner."

"That would be me son. R. J. Drindle, Baker to the King." A wide grin broke across his face at Mica's look of surprise. "I know, I know, bakers should be shorter and fatter than I. Especially the good ones," he said and gave a short laugh. "But if you can believe your eyes, here before you stands a skinny baker, and a good one at that, if you listen to my customers."

Liam started to snicker. Mica quickly recovered his composure and shot a dirty look at Liam. "My mistake sir, I intended no slight."

"None taken. You are not the first. He rubbed his hand on his apron adding another smudge of flour before reaching across the counter. "Drindle is how I am known."

Mica clasped Drindle's dry thin hand. "A pleasure. These are my friends, Willow and Liam."

Drindle touched the tip of two fingers to his hat and nodded first to Willow, then to Liam. "I haven't seen you folks around before. Where are you from?"

"Three Oaks Dale," replied Mica.

"Well now," said the baker. "Being you are from the Dale would you by chance know a man named Ogden? He is a door maker by trade."

The question surprised both the boys, but Liam was first to answer. "We do indeed," he said with pride. "I am his apprentice."

Liam heard a small gasp of surprise from Willow, but Drindle's critical gaze commanded his attention.

"Ogden's apprentice huh?" He placed his hands on the counter and leaned over. His long spindly arms stuck up at an angle as he peered down.

Liam felt like a frog about to be swallowed by a stork. He swallowed hard and nodded.

With bright, appraising eyes Drindle looked him over from head to toe. Then he rose to his full height, apparently satisfied. Casting his gaze over the rest of the group he said, "So, three young friends about on the town. How may I serve you?"

With his guidance, they made their selections. Liam's pastry was unlike anything he had seen before. He wished he could share it with Belinda. Willow reached for her pouch but Mica stepped forward to gently brush in front of her. "Allow me." He smiled at Willow and placed a few coins on the counter.

Liam thought he saw Willow blush slightly as a smile dimpled her cheek. "Why, thank you," she said.

Drindle scooped up the coins and dropped them into his apron pocket. "Will there be anything else," he asked?

"Perhaps there is," said Mica. "On the road we met a traveling merchant named Miraz. Would you know of him?"

"Drindle's face broke into a grin. "Short little man with a foul pipe? Travels with a flock of geese?"

"The very one," said Mica. "He gave me a book and said if I found anything pictured in it to look up a baker in Fairgrove named Drindle."

"So have you been lucky enough to find anything that Miraz is interested in yet?" asked Drindle.

"Maybe," said Mica "I have some plants and herbs I've been collecting. They are back at the inn."

"When did you have time to find anything for Miraz?" asked Liam in surprise.

"I had to find something to do while you talked to Belinda every night," Mica said.

Liam was shocked and speechless. He thought he had been so discreet.

"Who is Belinda?" Willow wanted to know.

"If you want to come with me to pick up my pack," said Mica, "I'll explain on the way. That is if Mr. Drindle is interested in seeing what I found."

"That would be fine," said Drindle. "Why don't you two go pick up what you have collected? Perhaps Liam will stay and tell me more about Ogden."

"Great!" said Mica and he grabbed Willow's hand and dashed for the door. "We'll be right back."

Before Liam could protest, the door slammed leaving him alone with Drindle. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. He tried to think of an excuse to leave, but nothing came to mind.

Drindle smiled, and with a couple of sweeping strides crossed to the door and latched it. "Now we won't be disturbed," he said. The same long strides took him behind the counter to the back wall. With one long boned hand he beckoned to Liam. "Come around here son. I would like to show you something." He pulled aside a curtain.

Liam glanced at the locked door.

"Coming?" asked Drindle. He pulled the curtain a little wider.

Liam's stomach gave a twitch. He hesitated, gathering his courage. Drindle was a friend of Miraz, and the king's baker he told himself. If there was something wrong he should find out. He stepped around the counter. Behind the curtain was a dimly lit passageway. "What about my friends he asked?"

"We won't be long," Drindle said. He placed a boney hand on Liam's shoulder and gave him a slight shove. "Your friends will be fine."

Them! Liam thought. What about me? He stumbled forward, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. On his left a thin slice of dim light peeked from under a badly fitted door. Long fingers tightened on his shoulder and he choked back a scream.

"Hold a minute, don't stumble on the stairs."

Liam heard a slight rustle as Drindle pulled something out of his pocket and the room brightened. Ahead of him wooden stairs descended into darkness.

"Here take this," Drindle said. He passed Liam a small fire globe no bigger than a duck's egg. "It's just down the stairs and to the right."

The light made Liam feel a little braver and he led the way. At the bottom he turned right and stopped. There, tucked beneath the stairs, was an ancient battered door with an arched top. He instantly recognized the short little door with the wide frame. It was built to the same proportions as the door in his master's spell room. He spun around to face Drindle, but the baker spoke first.

"I see you recognize the door. Do you know where it leads?"

"I have seen one very much like it that leads to a potion room."

Drindle laughed. "Yes, a potion room. For one who links doors that would make sense. Being a baker I think of it as a pantry, but I'm sure we speak of the same place. Behind this door is a storehouse of ingredients all jumbled together that seems to have no end."

Liam nodded. "It sounds like the same room, but I didn't know there were other doors that led there."

"Oh, at one time I think there may have been many, many doors that led there." He reached out and brushed his long fingers lightly across the door. "Who can say how many still exist? It was your master who discovered the clues that lead to this one. We found it buried deep in a mountain cavern, quite the adventure really. We spent days poking around the roots of that mountain before we found it."

"Sir? My master?" Liam tried to picture the Doormaster poking around in a dark cave in his fine robes. "For days...?"

A hardy laugh exploded from Drindle. "He was just Ogden then. Believe it or not we two had our share of adventures. Squeaked through some tight spots in our time and saw some far lands we did. But that was long ago, before we settled down and made names for ourselves."

Drindle had a far away look as if he had forgotten Liam was there.

"Please sir, tell me about how you found the door," Liam said.

Drindle smiled down at him. "The telling will have to wait for another day. It is too good a tale to rush, and it would be rude to keep your friends waiting. Besides I still need your help with the door."

"The door sir?" asked Liam. "If it isn't working I'm not sure I'll be able to help. The magic is very old..."

"Oh, the door works fine," said Drindle. "In fact it is because I have the door, and access to the finest ingredients the world has to offer, that my bake goods are second to none." He held out his hand. "The fire globe please." Taking the globe he placed it in a niche by the door. "Do you have any other non-shielded magical items?"

Liam shook his head.

"Good, then let's go." Bending almost double he led the way through the door.

His doubts forgotten, Liam followed.

Drindle stopped just inside. "Does this look familiar?"

They were standing in a narrow aisle. Tall shelves stacked with jars and packages pressed in on either side. Behind him the short door he had just stepped through stood ajar, blue paint peeling from its weathered face. Strange smells assaulted Liam's nose, and he pressed a finger across his top lip to suppress a sneeze. "Yes, this must be the potion room, but I don't think I've ever been down this aisle."

"I'm not surprised. Ogden's door is some distance away." Drindle waved a hand vaguely to the right. "I believe it lies in that direction. Once I could find my way, but it has been too long. Things in here shift around. Landmarks change, new passageways appear, and old ones vanish. I was hoping if we came down here together you would recognize something. If we could find a common landmark, perhaps you could draw me a map. It would be pleasant to visit Ogden again without traveling the long road to Three Oaks Dale."

Liam nodded. Taking the lead he started down the passageway, pausing at each intersection to peer down the cross aisles. If he found a familiar path, he would first talk to the Doormaster before leading Drindle to his master's door.

The baker followed behind, making notations on a hand drawn map. At the first intersection they passed a large wooden barrel that smelled of smoke. Fire had charred the outside and the lid was missing. Stacked inside the barrel, point down, stood dozens of cutlass blades. All were missing their hilts and guards. Drindle made notes on his map.

Liam recognized nothing at the intersection. On a whim he decided on the right hand passage.

They moved deeper into the room, stopping often to allow Drindle to make notes. The looming shelves with their eerie contents played on Liam's nerves, but Drindle seemed to be immune to these fears.

The entwining rows snaked back and forth between the shelves. Liam lost all sense of direction and was relying heavily on Drindle's map to lead them back. Around the next twist a side passage opened on their right. It was wider than the rest and framed with stone.

Liam stopped and pointed to the stone passageway. "Is this on your map?"

Drindle looked up. Stepping closer he examined the hand hewn blocks making up the arch. "Certainly not," he said, reaching out to brush the age blackened stone with his fingertips. "This is the first time I've seen stone work in here." Leaning forward he called to Liam. "Look at this. There are faces carved into the blocks."

Liam moved up beside Drindle to stand beneath the arch. He peered closely at the old blocks. Stone faces stared back at him, sending a shiver up his spine. "Let's try a different passage," he said.

"Let's not be too hasty," said Drindle as he moved a little deeper into the passage. "Don't you want to know why the builders picked stone for this section?"

"Maybe they ran short of wood," Liam said under his breath.

Drindle was too preoccupied to hear. He moved farther into the passage, now and again stopping to examine things on the shelves.

Liam looked over his shoulder and then down the forbidding passage. He couldn't go back without a map. The familiar fear of the potion room settled over him and he hurried to catch up.

"There you are," said Drindle as he looked up from the shelf. "This is a very strange section. Look at these bottles."

Liam thought this whole room was strange, but he turned to look where Drindle was pointing. The stone shelf was filled with row upon row of tall thin bottles. They were all made from the same emerald green glass. Each one had a stopper of shinning red glass held in place by a twist of wire. There were hundreds of them. Liam was confused. He turned back to Drindle to ask what was so strange about a bunch of bottles.

"Read the labels," said Drindle and he pointed to the shelf again.

Liam leaned closer to make out the labels. The word STINGERS was written in red across the top, but when he looked closer they were all different. Each one had a picture of an insect with the name beneath.

There were dozens of types of bees: Sand Bees, Red Throated Bees, Bumble Bees, and others he had never heard of.

After the bees, the shelves held bottles of Wasp Stingers and later Hornet Stingers and even bottles of Scorpion Stings.

"Why would anyone want a bottle of stingers?" Liam asked. "And look at the size of these bottles. It would take thousands of stingers to fill just one."

Drindle shrugged, "I don't have any idea but it's not just stingers. Look here where the bottles start to get bigger."

The farther down the aisle they went, the bigger the bottles and the stranger the contents. Soon they were seeing bottles of spines from sea urchins, platypus spurs and even stingray tails. As the bottles grew bigger the shelves grew larger squeezing into the aisle and shutting out more of the light.

The stone shelves closed in tighter and the passageway seemed like a cave. The bottles were filled with fangs and claws. Liam didn't like looking at the pictures anymore. He wanted to beg Drindle to stop, but the passage was so narrow now that they had to walk single file. All he could see was his back. Liam reached out a hand to tug on Drindle's apron just as the passage made a sharp turn and widened out.

Drindle stopped suddenly and Liam stumbled into him with a bump. The passage had ended in a small circular alcove lined with green bottles of every size. Drindle still hadn't moved. Liam peeked around him to see why.

In the center of the alcove was an enormous bottle made from the same emerald green glass with the same shinning red stopper. The label was on the other side of the bottle, and all Liam could see of the picture was part of a curling tendril. The air was heavy and he found it hard to breathe. The endless bottles filled with sharp poisonous points made his skin prickle. Drindle started moving across the room, his hand stretched out towards the bottle.

Musical tinkling like tiny glass bells made Liam look up. A wisp of vapor curled out from around the shinning red stopper and the tinkling became louder and more dreadful. The twist of wire that should have held the stopper in place was missing. Drindle was almost touching the bottle.

"Wait!" cried Liam as he pointed to the stopper. "The seal is broken."

"What..?" said Drindle. He was standing so close to the bottle he had to crane his neck to see the top.

A tremor passed beneath their feet. An inky breath belched from the bottle. The stopper clanged like an anvil being struck. The reverberation leaped around the room in a wave, ricocheting off the bottles lining the walls. Tinkling glass stoppers chimed back in a harsh staccato echo.

Liam cast a frightened glance around the room, remembering what was in those bottles. The echo wasn't dying \- it continued to swell. He gaped at the bottles. A shiver ran up his spine. None of the bottles in this alcove had wire twists.

Liam grabbed Drindle by the arm. "Our presence here seems to have set them off somehow," he said waving at the bottles lining the wall. "I don't know what will happen if those stoppers come out, but do you want to be here if they do?"

A look of shocked astonishment passed across Drindle's face. "Right you are... lead the way." He pushed Liam back the way they had come. "Stretch your legs now boy, no time to dawdle."

Liam set a fast pace, not slowing down until they were well clear of the stone passageway and the angry green bottles. After passing several cross aisles Liam stopped and tried to slow his breathing. He didn't want to admit to Drindle how scared he was.

"What do you think that passage was?" asked Liam between breaths. "And what was in that enormous bottle?"

Drindle's longer legs had served him well, and even though he was older he didn't seem to be out of breath. "I'm not at all sure. I've seen a lot of strange things in this room but nothing has ever threatened me with physical harm. Maybe there is more magic here than we see. It's possible that the stone arch we passed through was linked to some other-where. I need to speak with some of my associates. Maybe they would know more. But for now I don't think I'll be going back soon."

"Speaking of going back, Willow and Mica will be worried if we are not there when they return from the inn," said Liam.

"Right you are. Let me have a look at my map." Holding it up he turned in a slow circle, his head bobbing like a sandpiper at low tide. He peered up and down the passageway squinting at the map. With purpose he started down the passageway, long legs swinging. But his steps soon slowed and became hesitant. Muttering he returned, passing by Liam and stopping at the intersection.

Liam followed, his concern growing. He had been disoriented long before they passed through the stone arch. Now his head felt muddled. He was well and truly lost. His only hope of getting out was Drindle's map.

Drindle took several strides down the left hand passage and stopped. "This can't be right," he said tapping his long bony finger on the map.

Liam stretched his neck and peeked around the skinny baker's arm. A sense of dread soured his stomach as he caught a glimpse of the map. Drindle may be the land's best baker, but it was clear he had no skill for drawing. Twisted lines without names or descriptions crisscrossed the paper. Crude drawings wedged between smudges and squiggles gave little hint of which way they had passed.

Drindle scratched his chin as he studied what he had drawn. Then his eyes lit up and he jabbed his forehead with his finger. "Aha," he cried and spun the map upside down. "We are heading the wrong way."

Whirling around he bumped Liam aside. "Oh, sorry boy," he said with a sheepish grin. He reached down to give Liam a hand up. "It seems, you see, I was holding the map the wrong way about." Without another word his long legs marched off down the passage pausing only briefly before disappearing down a side aisle.

Liam stood in shock. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. How could Drindle tell anything from looking at that scribbling he called a map. He looked around confused.

A head popped back around the corner. "Are you all right boy?" asked Drindle. Concern crossed his face. "You look a little addled. Did you hit your head when you fell?"

The words snapped Liam back to the present. Closing his mouth he shook his head. "No, I'm not hurt."

"Well come along then," said Drindle with a wave of his arm. "I thought you were in a hurry to get back to your friends."

Liam wasn't sure if Drindle could find his way back or not, but he didn't have any other options. So when the baker disappeared around the corner he jogged after him.

To Liam's amazement once Drindle had figured out which way was up on his map he seemed to have no trouble at all deciding which turns to take. Liam just hoped they were actually getting closer to the bakery door.

A couple turns later Drindle stopped in an intersection, looked around, then folded up his map and placed it in an apron pocket.

"What's wrong?" asked Liam, fearing the worst.

"Nothing is wrong, just the opposite in fact," said Drindle a little smugly. "The map is no longer needed. Our door lies just down this aisle."

From where Liam stood, the aisle seemed much the same as the others. A little longer perhaps, but still much the same. "How can you tell?" he asked.

"Come, I'll show you." Pointing down the left hand aisle he said, "See the tall red and yellow urn? That is where I draw the water for my bath. It is always full of hot steaming water."

Liam walked a short way down the aisle towards the urn. He could see that it sat on a three-legged stone stool. A steady hissing noise escaped from the top. He started to laugh. "Here is the landmark we have been searching for, sitting just outside your door. I have seen this urn before."

"Ha! Wonderful news," said Drindle. "I had given up on finding one. You can draw me a map then, from the urn to Ogden's door?"

"I believe, I might," answered Liam guardedly. "But only if I retrace my steps from my door."

Drindle gave Liam a warm smile. "It is well that you are wary of new acquaintances. Please, talk to Ogden about the map before you draw it for me. Now let's get back to your friends before they have a chance to worry."

"Oh yes, let's hurry," said Liam with a nod.

He had to trot to keep up with Drindle's long strides as they passed the last two intersections. Drindle stopped before the weathered door. Its peeling blue paint was a welcome sight to Liam.

Stooping low, Drindle opened the door. "In you go now," he said. "Take the fire globe from the niche where we left it and head up the stairs. I'll be right behind you."

Liam stepped through and took the fire globe. Not waiting to see if Drindle was following, he hurried up the stairs and into the shop.

Through the window he could see Mica and Willow outside. They stood close together with their backs to the shop. With a flip of his wrist he shot back the latch and flung open the door.

Mica jumped away from Willow, turning and dropping his hand to his side.

Liam smiled. "Have you two been waiting long?" he asked innocently. His smile grew larger knowing they had been holding hands. "Drindle was showing me more of his shop. I hope you weren't bored."

Mica looked a little sheepish. But with a sweet smile Willow brushed past Liam. "It didn't seem long to me," she said.

Mica squared his shoulders, scooped up the pack at his feet, and strutted into the shop. He headed straight for the counter where Drindle was standing.

Liam watched as Mica began to empty his pouch, arranging bundles of plants on the counter. They all looked boringly alike to Liam. He drifted across the room to where Willow was examining the display of cakes.

She looked up as he approached. "Are they not delightful?" she asked, nodding at the cakes. Her eyes sparkled with a childlike wonder. "My favorite is the one shaped like a cabin. Look, it even has clear sugar window panes. You can see right inside."

Liam didn't see what all the fuss was about, but her joy was so contagious he bent forward to look. The cake was shaped like a humble little cabin in the woods. It had rough sawn logs for walls and a thatched roof made of chocolate shavings. A tiny little sugar man stood in the doorway waving hello with his bright red hat. Through the windows he could see a woman wearing a long white apron. She was setting plates on the table. Next to the fire a rocking chair held a fat yellow cat curled into a ball, his nose tucked under his tail.

Everything looked so real Liam could almost smell what was cooking for dinner. He caught himself holding his breath, waiting for them to move. With a sigh he stood back up.

"I had no idea," said Liam. "Small wonder he is the king's baker."

"The true wonder," Willow said, "is that he is living here in Fairgrove of all places. We might be the only customers he's had today."

Liam looked around the neat little shop. The white walls were clean as if freshly painted. The display cabinets were not new but they showed little wear. "His shop is in good shape and his cases are full. He must be selling his goods somewhere. I bet he has a door to the castle, or at least one in Hightown. Maybe near the castle gate."

Willow looked thoughtful. "You must be right," she said. "The notion of crossing a kingdom as swiftly as passing through a door is foreign to me. The elves prefer to travel across the land, the journey being as important to them as the destination. The wonders you find along the way often eclipse those found at the end."

Liam thought of the beauty in the dryad grove. "The elves are wise; much is missed when traveling through magic doors." Then his face broke into a wide grin. "But without them, Drindle's bread would be stale long before it reached the king's table."

Willow giggled. "True enough. I doubt the king sits at the head of his high table surrounded by lords and ladies eating stale bread. It would seem the doors do have their uses."

Her smile faded and her eyes darkened like a cloud passing in front of the sun. "Maybe cakes are not the only things passing through the magic doors. Could someone be using them to supply weapons to the goblins? I have been speaking to travelers and inn keepers and have heard no tales of magic weapons being shipped along the roads."

Liam thought for a moment. "It might be possible," he said, "but they would have to be shielded with silver. Taking a magical weapon through a magical door would break the bond on the door or the weapon, or both."

"What happens then?" Willow asked. "The magic no longer works?"

"Often much more than that," explained Liam. "When a magic bond snaps, extraordinary things happen. Explosions, sometimes quite large, are common. If other magic is present the outcome can be truly bizarre. The results are so unpredictable that few have been willing to experiment."

"Shielded with silver you say?" asked Willow curiously. "Could a scabbard of silver shield a poison blade? Perhaps one like we took from the cart-stealing goblin?"

"I believe so," said Liam, "but I would want the Doormaster's opinion before I tested it."

Willow's voice took on a formal tone. "Then would you mind greatly if I travel with you to meet your master?"

"Travel with us you mean," said Mica, as he walked up behind them grinning. With a wink he nodded at Liam. "Be assured, alone with him you might die of boredom."

"You do seem to be knocking on death's own door," said Liam as he aimed a half hearted punch at Mica's ribs. Liam noticed Mica's pack looked empty and his pouch a little fuller after his talk with Drindle. He turned to Willow. "I guess you will have to join us or my friend here will surly die of boredom long before we reach Three Oaks Dale."

Mica lolled his head to one side and rolled his eyes, trying his best to look ill.

"Thank you for the offer. I accept," said Willow trying hard not to grin. "Although I am sure our friend would survive. I have heard the addled-minded are long lived. From the looks of this one," she said jabbing a thumb at Mica, "he should live to see one hundred and ten."

Liam laughed out loud. Mica grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

With a quick goodbye from Drindle and a promise from Liam to remember the map, the three friends headed back to the inn.

Everyone was eager to be on the road. After an early dinner they agreed to meet at sunrise. Willow bid the boys good night and retired to her room.

* * * * *

Even after a good night's sleep in a soft bed Liam awoke sleepy eyed and fuzzy headed. He staggered downstairs to find the grizzled old innkeeper standing behind the counter. "Yur friends are awaiting fur ya outside."

Liam nodded sleepily and reached for his pouch to pay for the room.

"No need fur coin. Yur friends have already settled the bill." The innkeeper reached behind the counter and handed Liam a small white bundle. "Yur friends have already had breakfast so I wrapped this fur ya." Liam stuttered out a surprised reply as he took the bundle. "Why, thank you."

"No need fur thanks," said the innkeeper. "We sort of got off on the wrong foot when we first met. Took you and yur friend for penniless drifters. Thought ya might be the type ta be causin' trouble. Guess I was wrong ta judge the book by jus lookin' at the cover."

Liam felt a little guilty. His first impression of the innkeeper hadn't been too nice either. Raising the bundle in farewell, he nodded as he passed through the door. "I'll be sure to spread the word about your inn."

Willow and Mica were waiting for him, Little Smoky already hitched to the cart.

"Good Morning to you," Willow said with a smile.

"'Bout time," growled Mica, but Liam could tell he really wasn't mad.

Liam just nodded and mumbled a good morning and crawled into the back. By the time the other two had climbed onto the cart he was already snuggled deep into the straw. The cart jerked as Mica lightly snapped the reins and Little Smoky started off, her hooves making a pleasant clippity clop.

The trip home was uneventful for Liam. This suited him quite nicely and he spent much of the time sleeping in the back of the cart. They stopped occasionally, and he was vaguely aware of Mica and Willow getting down to search for signs of goblins. From their quiet conversation and a word here and there, he could tell they didn't find anything.

The rest of the time Willow and Mica seem to enjoy sharing the narrow little cart seat, chatting happily for hours. Their voices drove away dark thoughts and lulled him to sleep as they bumped down the road. By the time they arrived on the outskirts of Three Oak Dale, Liam was well rested.

He was just waking up from another of his long naps when Mica turned off the main road onto a narrow lane. Trees crowded in on both sides blocking out the sun. Curiosity chased away the last bits of sleep. With one last yawn he sat up. Looking around Mica he caught sight of a well kept farm. He leaned far over the side to get a better view. The cart wheel struck a rut, bouncing him heavily into the side of the cart.

"Oof," exclaimed Liam. He slumped back onto the straw rubbing his ribs.

"Finally awake are we?" called Mica over his shoulder.

Willow turned around. "You are hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." To prove it he stopped rubbing his ribs. "Where are we anyway?"

Mica pulled up next to the barn. "Almost home," he said, "or at least Lit' Smoky is. This is the farm where the Doormaster hired Lit' Smoky. The farmer will store the cart until the Doormaster needs it again. From here we walk." Mica jumped down. On a whim he reached up to take Willow's hand to steady her.

Willow looked at Mica's outstretched hand in disbelief. Giggling slightly, she placed her hand in his. Then she leaped high into the air her pointed green boots tracing a graceful cartwheel high over her head. With a slight twist she landed lightly on her toes in front of Mica, her nose almost touching his.

Liam could see Willow's shoulders twitching as she struggled to control her laughter at the look on Mica's face.

Mica's look of shock darkened and threatened to become a scowl, but Willow's merriment flowed over him and the moment quickly passed. Together they burst into laughter.

"I must have looked quite the fool," admitted Mica, "offering to help an elf jump down from a cart."

"Ah, but you make such a handsome fool," she said wistfully and brushed his face with the back of her hand. She spun lightly on her toes and danced over to Little Smoky. "And now that you have helped me down," she said her voice light and airy, "I will help you. Let us unhitch this fair beast and get her fed."

Liam smiled to himself as he watched them lead Little Smoky into the barn. He busied himself gathering their belongings from the back of the cart, and thought about the last few days. Mica seemed to be softening under Willow's influence.

He stored the things they wouldn't want to carry under the cart seat where he could get them from the cupboard when they arrived at the Doormaster's. They would have to carry the goblins magic sword. He didn't want to take a chance on passing it through a magical door. Thinking about the goblins made him decide to leave Mica and Willow's bows out too.

The two bows were as different as their owners. Mica's longbow was heavy and straight. It was well cared for but unadorned. The arrows matched the bow's simplicity, long dark shafts fletched with banded turkey feathers.

Willow's short bone white bow was strung in a deep arch, the tips curving back in upon themselves. An intricate carving of a wild rose, complete with wicked looking thorns, flowed along the limbs. Her quiver bore the same wild rose design and held thin green arrows with unusual green fletching.

Liam heard the sound of voices, as his friends returned from the barn.

Mica gazed around the surrounding farm. "Everyone must still be in the fields. I'll stop by next time I pass and let them know what a fine job Lit' Smoky did." He looked down at the weapons in the back of the cart. "Everything else stowed?" he asked Liam as he handed Willow her bow and quiver.

"Everything else is under the seat," Liam answered.

Mica settled his quiver on his back and nodded at the goblin's sword. "It looks like it's up to you to tote back the trophy," he said smiling at Liam. "You being the one that did the vanquishing and all."

Liam looked at the sword remembering the chaos of the fight. "It's just blind luck that I wasn't the one vanquished."

Willow scooped up the sword and placed it in Liam's hands. Her green eyes trapped his gaze. "That is what all the heroes would say if they were honest. Slip this on your belt, you have earned it."

Liam still wasn't sure he had earned anything, but strapping on the sword seemed like the quickest way to end all this hero talk. While he adjusted his belt Mica explained that the shortest way home was to leave the road and cut through the fields.

"Excellent," said Willow. "After bumping along in that cart for days it will give us a chance to stretch out our legs."

They jumped the fence behind the barn and set off across the field. The late afternoon sun warmed Liam's back, and long shadows stretched out in front of them leading the way. The short sword pulled on his belt. It drooped on one side and bumped against his leg. When he tightened it, the belt squeezed his middle.

He wouldn't have guessed that wearing a sword was such a bother. But Willow had almost come out and said he was a hero. He straightened his back in an effort to live up to her estimation. Soon he was tightening his belt again.

Lucky for Liam the trip across the fields was truly a short cut. They arrived in the Doormaster's back garden just before dark. He led the way, eager to get rid of the burdensome sword.

"Come on in," Liam said swinging the kitchen door wide for them. He set out tall mugs and a pitcher of cider. "Help yourselves. I'll let the Doormaster know we are back, and then I'll find us something to eat."

The Doormaster usually spent his time down in his spelling room until Hodekin called them up for dinner, so Liam headed down the back stair. As soon as he was out of sight he loosened his belt. The weight of the sword pulled down at an uncomfortable angle, but at least he could take a breath without it pinching his middle. Rather than struggle to get the scabbard off his belt in the narrow stairway he just drew the sword to lighten the pull.

As soon as Liam stepped into the spell room he knew something was wrong. It was dark. The hearth fire that powered the fire globes had been kicked apart. Hot glowing coals spread like a fan across the stone floor.

Feeble flickering from the globes only served to deepen the shadows. "Doormaster, are you here?" Liam called out.

"Liam! Watch Out!" yelled the Doormaster from across the room.

Liam caught a glimpse of movement and heard the horrible screech of the goblin's war cry. He spun to his left. A large goblin charged out of the darkness with an evil looking curved dagger in each hand.

The goblin launched himself, hands and feet windmilling wildly, daggers slicing through the air. Liam jerked his hands up to fend off the blows. The poisoned sword skidded across the goblin's ribs leaving a jagged wound and cutting short the war cry. The poison gripped the goblin. He crumpled in a heap, his daggers clattering uselessly across the floor.

Boot heels pounded down the stairs. Willow and Mica emerged with arrows notched and bows drawn.

Mica glanced at the goblin on the floor and nudged it with his foot. "Good job hero," he said. His smile looked forced.

Willow only spared Liam a glance; her bow swept the shadows for targets. "Save any for us?" Her voice sounded as cool and calm as a tax collector.

"Da know,' replied Liam. His legs shook like a newborn colt. He wasn't sure he could walk. The bows are no use in this darkness he thought. He raised the sword but could hardly see beyond its point. Pressing his back against the wall he strained to see into the shadows. "Careful where you shoot," he said, "the Doormaster is down here somewhere."

Fear shot though Liam as a scuffle broke out on the other side of the room. He swung the sword toward the noise bracing for another goblin to come flying at him. A high pitched scream pierced the air, followed by a heavy thud. Everything was quiet again. Liam drew his breath to call out but held his tongue. The silence stretched. His imagination began to paint terrors in every shadow.

A heavy crash in the hearth sent a shower of sparks spilling into the room. In the brief glow a shadowed figure rolled under the spell table. Liam thought he recognized the Doormaster's robe.

A thin tongue of flame curled up from the hearth embers. The room's fire globes flickered. More tiny flames flared around the log and the globes echoed the soft glow.

Something skittered along the edge of the shadows.

Before he could cry out, Liam heard the gentle pulse of a harp string followed by a low quiet whistle and a meaty thwack. A yowl echoed eerily off the walls. Willow's arrow had found its mark. Liam shivered and stepped deeper into the shadows. The goblins might have an archer too.

The flames now had a firm grip on the log giving more strength to the globes. The shadows were smaller, but one log was not enough to brighten the whole room. Soon the heavy twang of Mica's bow joined the sweeter reverberations of Willow's, but the goblins had learned to move only in the deepest shadows, offering only brief glimpses to the archers.

Movement under the spelling table caught Liam's eye.

A bulky shape scrambled out and broke into a stumbling run towards the door.

"It's the Doormaster," exclaimed Liam. He pushed away from the wall. Sword held high, he rushed forward.

A tall black robbed figure leapt from hiding, sprinting across the room. Liam raced to reach his master first. A desperate sob tore from his throat. He couldn't reach him in time. The Doormaster's own body shielded the attacker from Mica and Willow's arrows.

The Doormaster limped around a low table that blocked his path. Time slowed for Liam as if in a nightmare. Firelight glinted in an arc, reflecting from the long narrow blade aimed at his master's unprotected back.

"Noooo!" he screamed.

The dark figure bounded after the Doormaster. The table shimmered and blurred, its leg tangling in the dark robes and sending the figure sprawling across the stone floor. The sword clattered and spun out of reach.

Quick as a snake the dark figure recovered, coiling and lunging at the Doormaster. Clawing hands dug at the old man's back, dragging him down.

Pinning the Doormaster with one knee the figure uncoiled. In a smooth motion he freed a dagger from his boot.

A scream of rage ripped from Liam's throat. Swinging his sword with both hands he slashed at the deadly shadow.

One long black arm struck Liam's elbow, deflecting his blow. The other smashed the pommel of the dagger against his head. A galaxy of white hot stars exploded behind Liam's eyes. He crashed to the floor tasting blood.

Through a fog he could see his master struggling. He fought to clear his vision. A choking laugh erupted from deep within the evil black robes. Liam struggled to one knee. The black robe raised the dagger high above his head for a death blow.

Liam struggled to stand, but only managed to roll sideways. From behind came the song of twin bowstrings. A green fletched arrow glanced off the outstretched arm just below the dagger. The heavier dark shaft shattered against the armored chest pitching the figure backwards. Wood fragments stung Liam's face.

The dark cowl whipped around to assess the new threat. With a terrible oath he sprang into the shadows. The bows sang again, but the arrows clattered off the walls.

Liam slipped an arm under his master. Leaning on each other they retreated part way up the stairs.

The Doormaster collapsed on the steps. "Let me rest a bit," he said. "I need to catch my breath."

Liam sank down beside him. The world was spinning faster. He struggled to keep from being sick.

From the spell room came three sharp blasts of a whistle followed by sharp barking commands from a goblin. They were going to attack. His friends were still at the bottom of the stair.

Wishing he had the sword, he forced himself to stand. The world tilted sideways and a wave of sickness buckled his knees. He used the wall to pull himself up. An explosion rocked the stair. He tumbled forward. Darkness swam up to close off his vision.

### Chapter 5

Liam woke with a groan. Pain stabbed his head. He reached up and his fingers touched a bandage. His eyes flew open. Suddenly he was wide awake. He sat up with a jerk.

"Easy now lad," said a familiar voice from the corner. "The fighting is all done. We've beaten the lot. Wizard, goblins and all."

To Liam's great surprise he found himself sitting in his own bed, the morning sun shining through the window. The Doormaster sat in the sunlight, his foot propped up on a short stool. The book he was reading lay open on his lap.

"But what happened? I heard the signal to attack. The explosion! Mica and Willow! They were alone at the bottom of the stair."

"Easy...calm yourself. Everyone is fine. The signal you heard was a call for retreat." The Doormaster carefully marked his page with a long red ribbon and laid aside his book. "They set off an explosion to seal their exit and prevent anyone from following. Rather noisy. Left quite a mess. It's being tended to though."

The Doormaster eased his foot off the stool. It was bandaged almost to the knee. "Your friends are fine," he said smiling. "They are waiting for you downstairs." With the help of a cane the Doormaster stood and tucked his book under his arm.

"Sir, your leg?"

"Oh..." he said glancing down. "I managed to burn it somewhat when I kicked apart the fire."

"Are you badly hurt?" asked Liam.

"Not so badly that I wish to miss breakfast," he said with a wink. "From the sounds I've been hearing I'd judge your friends have been busy with skillet and pan." With only a slight limp he crossed to the door. "The battle stories can wait until we've weighed their efforts."

Liam sunk back into his bed, happy it was all over. Relieved everyone was safe. He closed his eyes for just a moment.

From down the hall the Doormaster called, "Come along at your own pace, but tarry and you may find nothing but crumbs."

Liam smiled and kicked back the cover. After taking only a moment to wash his face he hurried down the stairs to see his friends.

The smell of flat cakes and spiced venison tickled his nose and reminded his belly that he had missed last night's supper. From the kitchen rang the sound of laughter warming him like sunshine. Liam paused in the doorway.

Mica was setting a huge platter of flat cakes in the center of the table. "Awake at last I see." A huge grin split his face. "That tap to the noggin hasn't spoiled your timing any. You might sleep through the cooking but never the eating."

Everyone including Liam burst into laughter. They all knew how he liked to sleep.

They all gathered round the table and settled in for breakfast. When at last everyone had eaten their fill, Liam stood up. "You were kind enough to let me sleep while you cooked, so allow me to care for the dishes while you sit though a final cup." He began to clear away the mess, taking the dishes to the sink at the far side of the kitchen. Without a word Hodekin picked up a stack of dishes and followed him.

"Why...thank you Hodekin," said Liam. This was the first real kindness the kobold had ever shown him.

Hodekin nodded in his general direction. Picking up a cloth he began to dry the dishes. "Don't look so surprised," he said. "I can be nice when I choose."

"But why now," blurted Liam, and then bit his tongue.

Hodekin stiffened up and Liam though he was going to storm off. Instead he picked up another bowl. "A fair question I guess, but I'll wager you'll not like the answer." He placed the bowl down and turned to Liam. "When you showed up here at the master's door all pink of cheek and green as grass I took you to be lacking grit. I couldn't see why the master would want someone around that was so soft he would melt the first time it rained. But I was wrong about you. You stood up to that wizard when many would have run, and you saved the master." Hodekin laid down his cloth and walked back to the table.

Liam was stunned. Had Hodekin just given him a compliment? He turned back to his dishes but they were all done. Still a little dazed he made his way back to the table.

When Liam returned to his chair, the Doormaster looked around the table and cleared his throat. "Harrumph...harrumph." When he had everyone's attention he began. "Never was any good at thinking when I was hungry but breakfast is out of the way and I would like try to do some now." He leaned forward. "Someone went to a lot of trouble to link a magical door to a crate and then use it to attack us. I am puzzled as to why, and would like very much to know who was behind it." He looked around the table. "I think each of us knows something about it and together we may be able to piece this puzzle together. I'll add my piece first.

"Three days ago two rather rough looking men rode up in a cart. Said they had a crate for Liam. When I saw the size of the crate I was surprised. It nearly filled the cart." The Doormaster looked over his rose tinted spectacles at Liam. "They claimed that your Aunt Eleana had passed and left her inheritance to you."

"To me sir?" Liam said. "But, I don't have an Aunt Eleana."

"That is all very clear now," said the Doormaster, "although at the time I had no reason to guess that." He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his chest. "Being a Doormaster I was a little suspicious that the crate seemed rather light for its size. The two men were able to carry the crate down the stairs and into the spell room as if it were empty, which later of course proved to be the case. After the men had left, Hodekin and I pushed it back against one of the pillars and I secured it with a stout piece of rope." He shook his head and frowned. "I have no idea how they could have untied the rope from the other side."

Hodekin slowly climbed off his stool, removed his hat and stood next to the Doormaster's chair. He stood looking at his shoes. "It was me master Ogden," he said in a whisper. "I'm the reason trouble came to call. It was me that loosed the rope."

Liam recognized the look of dejection on the Kobold's face. He had felt the same way when the goblins had stolen Little Smoky and the cart. He knew firsthand about how bad simple decisions could turn out.

He jumped to his feet, "No! All this isn't your fault." He waved his finger at Hodekin. "Your magical disguises have caused me plenty of trouble, but I don't believe you helped goblins attack the master." He stopped for a breath. "Besides, it was you who tripped the dark wizard as he tried to cut the master down."

Everyone looked startled at Liam's defense. The little kobold stared up at Liam. His mouth worked but no words came out.

The Doormaster was the first to recover. He laid a hand on Hodekin's shoulder. "No one believes you would have helped the goblins attack."

"No, I didn't help them...not on purpose anyway." Hodekin turned to Liam. "It was just for a laugh." He looked back at the Doormaster. "I didn't know what the rope was for. I took it off so I could push the crate back into the shadows. I was going to disguise myself as the crate. Big surprise for Liam." He smiled weakly. "Bad surprise for everyone."

"Mistakes are made," said the Doormaster. "What we do afterwards is what makes us who we are. It was very brave of you to admit to doing wrong, and you did your best to make something bad come out right."

The Doormaster turned back to those at the table and said, "Well now, another piece has been added to the puzzle. At least we know how they got in. What else do we know about our attackers?"

As it turned out, Hodekin knew the most. He was still in the spell room when he heard the first goblin sneaking out of the crate. Thinking quickly he used his magic to disguise himself as a small table.

He watched as best he could, but as a table he couldn't twist around to look over his shoulder. He thought there were four maybe five goblins and the dark wizard. When they spoke it was in harsh whispers. The wizard was obviously in charge. The master's doors were mentioned several times, but they were looking for the Doormaster and his apprentice. They even mentioned Liam by name.

Then the room got quiet. Hodekin couldn't see anyone and thought maybe they had gone back through the crate. He was just thinking of changing back to his regular shape when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

A figure passed by him, heading for the fire pit. With a stab of fear, Hodekin realized it was the Doormaster. He shouted out a quick warning. Suddenly the room was filled with goblins.

The Doormaster kicked apart the fire and dove into the shadows. The attack became a deadly game of hound and hare. Hodekin was beginning to despair, when Liam and his friends showed up to change the odds.

When the Doormaster saw his chance he made a break for the door. The dark wizard attempted to strike him down from behind, but Hodekin broke his magical disguise and managed to trip him. Only the armor the Dark Wizard wore beneath his robes saved him from Mica and Willow's arrows.

With Liam's help the Doormaster reached the safety of the stairs. The wizard had lost his chance. Signaling retreat, he led the attackers back to the crate. He wrenched it open and the goblins swarmed through the magic door and disappeared down a dimly lit hallway.

The wizard's black robes swirled as he swept through the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes locking on Hodekin. With a hiss, the black wizard plucked a fire globe off the wall and hurled it through the magic door. The kobold dove behind a pillar. The crate exploded sending a burst of planks and splinters shooting across the room.

The Doormaster listened intently until everyone had told their part. Then he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "Well it would seem someone forged a weak link to a crate and had it delivered here. If the other door were within a few leagues it might not even have been a true doormaster."

"You mean it might have been someone who links fire globes to the hearth or links rings to each other?" asked Liam.

"More likely someone who links poison to swords," said Willow. She had been sitting quietly listing to everyone. Now she stood and paced back and forth. "All this trouble on the road, goblins with magic swords, and now goblins allied with a dark wizard. It would seem they are perhaps related."

"Well said," agreed the Doormaster. "I too place little faith in coincidences." His eyes twinkled as he looked pointedly at Willow. "I was a young man when last this dale was visited by a high elf from Underhill."

Mica jerked forward in his seat, his eyes wide. Before he could say anything Willow bowed with a graceful sweep of her arm.

"Truly I am from Underhill, but how do you know of my station and birth?"

"Where else but Underhill do they wear boots with turned up toes and vests with collars so broad?" His smile grew wide. "And who but a high elf would have such a bow as the one you used to help save our lives?"

"Right you are. And right again, station and birth," she said. "Forgive me for not announcing my station earlier."

Reaching out to Mica with her eyes she continued in a lower voice. "It was such a delight to be free of the chains of pomp and pageantry. I was having such a wonderful time being just a girl, not the king's third cousin once removed."

Reluctantly she turned back to the Doormaster. "And for the third time, right you are. It is no coincidence that I am out from Underhill wandering abroad. My king has learned of goblins carrying magic swords, and of them raiding in larger groups. There is little need to explain why large groups of well armed goblins is something my king wishes to abolish. He has been sending out agents of the crown to discover who is supplying these magical arms so it can be stopped."

She cast her eyes around the table looking at each in turn. "As you might guess the hunt my king has set for me will be all the harder if my quarry knows who the hunter is. So if you wish my success, please let me be known only as Willow."

"Willow it is then," said the Doormaster and everyone nodded. He pushed his chair back and gently touched his leg where the bandage started. "Well I think our talk has made some things clearer but some may be even more puzzling. We know how the attack was started and even though we can't put a face or name to the dark wizard, we know who. But as to the why, I have no thoughts." He placed both hands on the table and pushed himself up. "It would seem that this puzzle will have to wait until more pieces have been found. Perhaps a rest will improve our thinking."

Hodekin started to get up to help him but the Doormaster waved him off. "Settle back. I can find my own bed easy enough. This leg just needs a little rest now."

Liam watched his master's slow progress as he limped down the hall and entered his room. A chill crept over him as he realized how close he had come to losing him.

He turned back to his friends and lowered his voice so it would not carry down the hall. "I don't know who this dark wizard is or why he attacked the master, but we must not be caught off guard again. One of us must be with him at all times, ready to call for help if it is needed."

Hodekin nodded in agreement. "I will make sure he is not alone."

Liam looked at the determined little Kobold. "This will take more than just one person. Even with your magic to hide you, you must sleep sometime."

Hodekin winked and nodded in the direction of the potion room. "My cousin Tommy Understair will help. No harm will come to the master while he is in this house."

Liam smiled as he realized that the Doormaster had been right. Hodekin and the tommyknockers were related.

Mica cast a puzzled look first at Hodekin then at Liam. Before he could speak, Liam broke in.

"Don't worry, Mica. If he can get his cousin's help I'm sure the master will be safe."

It was clear that Hodekin didn't want to spoil the secret of the tommyknockers living in the potion room. For now Liam would help him keep it.

Willow nodded in agreement. "A fine start, but we must go further. We must discover who is behind the attack and press the battle to them."

Mica turned to Willow. There was no hint of his usual smile and his voice was low. "So how pray tell would a king's agent perform that little trick?"

Willow avoided his gaze. "If you think less of me for not being more forth coming about birth and station, please consider how first we met." She raised her head and their eyes met. "Two boys, at night, in the middle of the wood dressed only in a torn blanket. Not exactly the kind of people you trust with secrets."

Mica's face softened and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Looking at it from where you're standing I admit you've had reason and more to be wary. Sadly my tongue is oft times sharper than my wit."

Willow's eyes brightened. Mica gave her a lopsided grin.

Seconds passed and finally Liam cleared his throat. "That still leaves the problem of finding the wizard."

Willow smiled at Mica and raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps there are still clues to be found in the spell room."

Liam lagged behind the others as they headed down the stairs. He hesitated at the top step, remembering the battle and the dead goblin lying on the floor. Mica and Willow had already reached the bottom. Their voices were muffled as they split up and began working their way to the back of the room.

Liam's stomach soured but he forced himself to go down. He tried to focus on his friends, but the floor held his gaze. His eyes turned to the spot where the goblin had fallen. The floor was empty. No goblin. No sign of a struggle. Just a clean floor and the faint smell of soap.

A slight cough jerked his attention away and he turned to see a smiling Hodekin. "The Village Master sent someone over. They took away the goblin, even scrubbed the floor. He's probably buried by now."

Liam closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Hodekin looked across the room. Willow and Mica were busy sorting through bits of charred wood. The Kobold nodded towards the potion room door. "Now might be a good time for me to visit my cousins," he said.

Liam fished the key out from his robes and stepped into the shadows under the stair. There was a soft click as he turned the key in the lock. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asked as he swung it open.

Hodekin stepped through the door. "My cousins are small and very shy. It may be hard for even me to contact them. If we want their help we must keep their secrets. No one must know."

Liam glanced across the room to where his friends were still searching.

Hodekin followed his gaze. "No one," he repeated.

Liam started to protest, but the firm look on Hodekin's face told him it would do no good. He needed the tommyknockers help to keep his master safe. There was no choice. "Okay. But if I don't go with you, how will you get back? I can't leave the door unlocked, and if the master sends me for potions I will need the key."

Hodekin gave a low chuckle and a wave of his hand. "I never heard of a lock that could keep a tommyknocker out." He turned and started down the aisle. "If I don't show up for breakfast then come and check this door. If they think I betrayed their secret they will refuse to help."

Liam watched him disappear around the corner. Before he could change his mind he quickly closed and locked the door. Doubt nagged at him, but he had no better plan. Tucking the key back inside his robe he went to join his friends.

He found them on the far side of the room. Willow was busy arranging pieces of wood on the floor as Mica handed them to her. Even though the wood was badly splintered and burned they had pieced together most of a rectangle. Near the top the black smudges looked like paint. Liam was still trying to figure it out when Mica walked up with another piece.

"Here is one with red markings," Mica said as he handed it to Willow.

She turned the piece around in her hands trying to see how it might fit. Liam was good with puzzles, but the edges on this piece were charred and split and he couldn't guess how it might fit.

Willow held it toward the fire globe and examined it. "Ah, this is how the tree grew." She set it on the floor and aligned the wood grain with the other boards. Then she sat back on her heels and studied the result. Fire had blackened the door and some pieces were missing altogether, but it was clearly the top of the crate.

Something tugged at Liam's thoughts, like a kitten on a string. The crate looked vaguely familiar but he knew that couldn't be true. He was on the road when it was delivered, and during the fight it was too dark to see much of anything. But he couldn't shake the thought. He walked around to the side.

The wizard knew what he was doing when he threw the fire globe through the magic door and severed the link. The blast of escaping magic shattered both the globe and the door, scorching the wood. He kneeled down to study the door. Soot smudged the boards, but he was sure something had been painted near the top.

He leaned closer. His leg muscles tightened with the strain, but he couldn't use his hands for balance without disturbing the pieces.

His face hovered just inches above the painted red spot. It stared back. He looked over his shoulder. "It looks like an eye," he said. His knee slipped and sent him sprawling. Pieces flew in all directions as he landed in the middle of the assembled boards.

"Hoy! What are you playing at?" Mica exclaimed. "Did you think we pieced this together for you to dive into?"

Liam levered himself up as carefully as he could, trying not to make the mess any worse. The rough wood scratched his cheek.

"Are you hurt?" Willow asked. Her eyes twinkled as she tried hard to hide her smile behind her hand.

The memory of when he first saw Belinda returned in a rush. He felt the embarrassment all over again. "This crate!" He sat up smiling and tried to dust the soot off his robe, but his dirty hands just smeared it around. "I've seen this crate before," he said proudly. "It was in the castle when I tested the door."

"Are you sure?" asked Willow. "There must be many crates like this in the castle."

Liam looked down at what was left of the crate. Soot blurred the black outlines of the boar's head, but the red eye still stared back at him. He was sure it was the same crate. "Yes, it was in the delivery pit at the castle."

"Willow has it right," said Mica. "There's nothing special about this crate." He folded his arms and scowled.

Liam bristled. He remembered how hard Mica had laughed when he told him about falling over the crate. He wasn't ready to share with Willow how clumsy he had been. He stood up and pointed to the jumble of boards on the floor. "Believe what you will. I saw this crate in the castle."

No one said anything. Liam looked from Mica to Willow. "Fine then," he said. "I need to change my robe and check on the master." Liam tramped back upstairs in a black temper. After all they'd been through, how could they not believe him?

When he reached the kitchen he slowed his pace and tried to let the anger and disappointment drain out. He didn't want to trouble his master. Quietly he climbed the back stairs and paused to listen at his master's closed door. All was silent. Liam hoped he was resting. He crept down the hall to his room.

His bed was still rumpled from last night. He ignored it and headed for the table where a water pitcher and bowl had been set out. Scrubbing his face he caught a glimpse of white in the mirror. Water dripped from his chin as he stared at the bandage on his head.

Wiping his face with a towel, he cocked his head sideways, trying to see where the wizard had hit him. There wasn't any blood but he decided to leave the bandage on anyway.

He pulled off his soiled robe and tossed it over a chair. From the chest at the foot of the bed he pulled out a clean robe and yanked it over his head.

He plopped down on the bed regretting his actions. Mica's words still stung, but he wished he hadn't stomped out. Looking down at the small table near the bed he saw the shell. With all the excitement he had missed talking to Belinda last night. She wouldn't be expecting him until after supper but he needed someone to talk to. Without much hope he placed the shell behind his ear and softly whistled the three notes.

Instantly he heard a whispered reply. "Liam, is that you?"

"Yes," he said a little too loudly, "it's me. With a little leap for joy he quickly moved to close his door. "I'm so glad you were wearing your shell."

"I've been wearing it since last night," she said still whispering, "and whistling until I think my lips may chap."

"Where are you?" Liam asked. "Why are you whispering?" Concern dampened his enthusiasm.

"Where I'm required to be of course, with the princess. She is sleeping so I'm trying not to wake her. The more important question is where have you been? Have you made it home safely?"

Liam could hear the worry in her voice and felt guilty. Last evening was the first night they hadn't talked. "Everything is fine," he assured her. "There was a little trouble when we got home last night but everyone is going to be fine."

Once Belinda heard the word trouble she insisted on hearing the whole story. Liam lay back on his bed and told her about the fight in the spell room and how the goblins and the black wizard used the phony crate as a door.

He hesitated, remembering Mica and Willow's reaction to his story. Then the words rushed out. "I saw that same crate when I was in the castle,"

"The one someone left where it would be easy to trip over?"

There was no hint of laughter or disbelief in her voice and Liam forgot all about Mica and Willow.

Her voice trembled slightly as she said, "Goblins and a wizard attacking your master in his own home, and it seems the crate they used must have passed through the castle. There is a mystery here. Someone must have used the magic doors in the delivery pit to move the crate before it was spelled."

"But doesn't someone track the movement of goods passing through the castle?" asked Liam.

"Oh, records are kept, but perhaps someone in the right position could make an item go unnoticed. I can't go to the king with accusations and no proof." Belinda paused and Liam could almost hear her thinking.

"The king did mention I should familiarize myself with the workings of the castle so when Princess Jenna is older I will be able to answer her questions. Perhaps I should spend some time learning about shipping goods."

"Belinda that's dangerous," warned Liam. "Whoever is behind this is murdering people."

"I'll be careful," said Belinda. "Besides no one would suspect the princess' handmaiden."

"Maybe you shouldn't..."

"Oh, the princess is waking from her nap," she interrupted. "I must go. Farewell for now." And she was gone.

Liam reached back and removed the shell with a sigh. Everyone he cared about was in danger. He got up and placed the shell back on the table. Maybe he could talk some sense into her tonight.

Liam paced back and forth across the room. Black thoughts rumbled through his mind like storm clouds. Someone needed to find whoever was causing all this trouble and put a stop to it. He went looking for his friends.

Down the hall his master's door was open and he was sitting at his desk. Looking up as Liam passed, the Doormaster called. "Ah, there you are lad. Come sit with me." He motioned to an empty chair.

Liam was anxious to see his friends, but he took the offered seat. He glanced around the room wondering if Hodekin was back yet. He had no idea how long it might take to convince the tommyknockers to help.

He fidgeted while his master took his time readjusting the cushion beneath his injured leg. The rose tinted reading spectacles had slipped down his nose, catching the sunlight and adding color to his cheeks. "With all the excitement I missed the tale of your excursion to Yellow Finger Lake. Since it was your first I must hear it all."

Liam immediately remembered the dryad's grove. Embarrassment gripped him and he cast his eyes down at his hands.

"Come now lad," encouraged the Doormaster. "The tale must be worth the telling. The door is hung, the payment has been made and everyone survived the trip. All that is left is the telling. So...start at the beginning."

Liam looked up into the Doormaster's beaming face. Taking a deep breath he started talking. He tried to skip over the embarrassing parts but the Doormaster's interest and perceptive questions encouraged him. Soon the whole story had been told, from their encounter with the dryads to his trip through the potion room with Drindle.

When the tale was through the Doormaster became very serious. Leaning forward he clasped Liam's hands and gazed intently at him over his tinted spectacles. "Lad, you faced harsh challenges with true courage. I'm proud of you. I had no idea that the goblins were raiding on the King's Highway or were banding with wizards. You and your friends deserve high praise indeed."

"Thank you sir," said Liam. "That is very kind of you to say." He remembered how he felt when the goblins had stolen Little Smoky and the door. "But I think if my judgment would have been better, my challenges would have been fewer."

A fit of laughter gripped the Doormaster and pushed him back in his chair. "Again you show wisdom beyond your years. The same can be said for any man." Pointing his finger at Liam he said, "Remember this next time some hero is relating his tale of dashing do...bad decisions make good stories."

Liam smiled and tried to change the subject. "Speaking of stories perhaps you could tell how you met the baker Drindle?"

"Ah, Drindle...now there is a tale worth the telling." The Doormaster leaned back and smiled. "But it will have to wait for another day. For the tale is long, and I'll not spoil it by rushing through it." He clapped Liam on the shoulder. "In fact I think it best if we wait until after you have made the map he asked for. Then together we could all sit and you could hear it told properly over a cup of chilled cider."

"I could make it right away," said Liam, "but how will he be able to open our door without a key?"

"An excellent question lad, excellent indeed. The answer is that he has one. No doubt you noticed how similar his door is to the potion room door?"

Liam slowly nodded and the Doormaster continued. "At one time the doors must have been part of a set. They both use the same key."

Liam thought about all the doors in the potion room, many of which were locked. "But Sir, how many other keys will unlock the door under the stair?"

"The potion room is very, very old," said the Doormaster. "I have reason to believe the doors that Drindle and I use have been around for ages. Perhaps even from the beginning. I have heard rumors of other doors like ours, but they have proved impossible to track. Those who possess a door linked to the riches of the storeroom keep it secret or risk losing it. When Drindle and I were young, I came across a scrap of parchment that listed the location of several doors. It took us a number of years to explore the places mentioned on the scroll. We only uncovered two of the doors. Since I had only a partial list, I have no way of knowing how many doors might have been in the original set."

"Then there is no way of telling how many others might have a key to your door?" asked Liam in a shaken voice. After the goblin attack he was sure that having strangers in the spell room was a bad idea.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too concerned," said the Doormaster. "Even if someone had a key it would take them some time to find our door. They would have to try it in a lot of different locks, and I'm sure the tommyknockers wouldn't put up with that kind of shenanigans."

"Well, I suppose you're right," Liam agreed reluctantly.

"Of course I am," said the Doormaster. "Don't let this goblin business shake you. Jumping at shadows simply won't do. With the help of your friends we thumped them one and all. Sent the lot running." His eyebrows arched above his spectacles and he shook his fist in the air. "If something comes here looking for trouble, by thunder they will find it."

Liam smiled at the old man's enthusiasm. "Right you are!" he said getting to his feet. He suddenly felt the need to be up and doing something useful. "With your leave I will go now to make Drindle his map."

The Doormaster beamed. "First-rate idea. Once you give him the map, invite him to tea. Oh, and be sure to tell him I said he should bring the cake and crumpets. He never cared for mine."

"Yes sir, I will," said Liam.

As he turned into the hall he heard his master chuckle to himself. "It will be good indeed to see that old stork again."

Talking with the Doormaster lightened Liam's mood. He could hardly wait to unite the two old friends. He skipped down the stairs two at a time, bounded down the hall, and bounced into the kitchen. Seeing his friends sitting at the table brought him skidding to a halt. It was clear by the way they looked up that they had been discussing something important.

"What's up?" asked Liam. "You're not still mad at me for falling on the crate are you?"

Mica pulled his face into a fake scowl. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and placed his hand over his heart. "If'en I were to get mad every time you got clumsy I would never smile again."

Willow made a show of kicking Mica under the table. "Pay no heed to the addled mind," she said. The laughter in her voice sounded like tiny bells. "Your fall was an accident. No one here holds a grudge. Come join us, we wish your counsel."

Liam smirked at Mica and plopped down beside Willow, feeling very pleased she was taking his side. On the table next to Mica was a small glass bottle filled with a strange green substance.

"Hey, what's this?" Liam said reaching across the table.

Quick as a cat Willow pinned his arm to the table. "Have care, the bottle holds death."

Liam slowly drew back his arm, looking first at Willow and then at Mica.

Mica nodded. "She has the right of it. We scraped that slime off the poisoned sword."

Liam gaped at the bottle. Just a shallow wound with that sword had killed the goblin in the spell room. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked.

"I require a sample for my king," said Willow. "Perhaps someone at court will be able to shed some light on its origin."

Liam looked at the small vial. "Why not just take the sword?" asked Liam.

"We'll be leaving the sword with you, hero," said Mica. His voice took on a serious tone. "It might be handy to have if that wizard and his cronies decide to have another go at your master."

Liam's mind raced ahead and he thought about having to fight off wizards and goblins by himself. A chill passed over him.

Willow placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be at ease...Mica will stay with you until I return." She fixed her gaze on Mica. "Is that not true?"

Suddenly it became clear to Liam what his friends had been discussing when he had barged in. "No!" said Liam. "Please, take Mica with you. The woods stink with goblins. They are crawling from their holes like worms after a rain." He couldn't bear the thought of Willow in the woods alone. "The master and I will be fine. The scum that attacked us are still licking their wounds. Besides, I won't be alone. Hodekin and his cousins will be here."

Willow studied Liam's face. "You are quite sure...?"

Liam nodded.

With a loud scrape Mica pushed his chair back from the table and quickly stood. "We're agreed then. Gather your kit Willow. If we leave now most of the day is still ahead of us. The quicker gone the quicker back."

Once the decision was made it took very little time to prepare. Mica and Willow were both used to traveling light. Soon they were standing in the doorway with bows and slim packs.

Mica swung his pack in a short arc, hitting Liam in the shoulder. "Keep your guard up," he said. "And if you do see any goblins try to remember...the pointy end of the sword goes towards them."

Liam gave his friends a weak smile. He knew they would be facing much worse danger than he. "I'll remember," he said. "Just watch out for each other and...hurry back." From the corner of his eye he caught a faint shimmer from the coat tree by the door. With a wink and a slight nod he continued in a louder voice. "While you're gone all I'll have is Hodekin, and you know how boring that can be."

With a POP, the coat tree disappeared and there stood Hodekin, his face the same color as his bright red vest. "Boring am I?" Whipping off his hat he angrily brushed it briskly against his bright blue sleeve to remove an imagined speck of dust. With great care he placed it back on his head and cocked it to the side with the tip of his finger. Standing very straight, he tilted his head back and stared down his nose at Liam. "Is that how you talk about me behind my back?"

Everyone started to laugh. The more they laughed the redder Hodekin became. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest he began tapping the floor angrily with his foot. He looked ready to explode when Liam finally took pity on him.

"Easy now, it was all in fun," Liam said. "No one thinks you're boring."

"He's right, we were just poking fun at you," said Mica, still grinning. "He knew you were there all along."

Hodekin's foot stopped its tapping and he uncrossed his arms. "This was just a joke then?" he asked, still not totally convinced.

"Caught at your own game," said Willow. "Take this for a lesson. Spying on your friends is a road to sorrow."

"But I was only watching the door, guarding the master," offered Hodekin lamely.

Mica laughed. "Did you imagine the goblins were going to sneak past us while we were standing in the doorway?"

Hodekin's shoulders slumped. "Right you are. You have me square," he admitted. "I was watching the door but I should not have been watching you."

Liam smiled at Hodekin, "It's okay, and we're still friends. Just let us know when you're around."

"That I can do!" said Hodekin, his eyes all a twinkle, and off he went down the hall.

"I am no sage but I see more than a few surprises in your future," laughed Willow. "I hope he tires of the game of letting his new friends know when he is around before we get back. Stay watchful my friend, and not just for Hodekin. We should return in about a week."

With a wave they were out the door and down the street. Liam watched until they turned the corner before closing the door.

* * * * *

The first couple days passed quickly while Liam finished the map. Then time crawled as he waited for Mica and Willow to return. He and Hodekin took turns watching the Doormaster's every move. For Hodekin it was easy. The master didn't know he was being watched. But he soon tired of Liam's constant hovering.

As Liam walked past the door for the third time in the same hour he heard the Doormaster call. "Come in lad. Pacing the hall will not hurry your friends' return."

Liam entered the room and crossed to where the Doormaster sat. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"What you need is something to take your mind off your worries. An idle mind can open perilous doors. We need to return to practical work."

"But sir, your leg...will it allow you to work?"

"No need for me to work off my worries. It is you lad that needs to be busy."

"Surely sir, you're not thinking of sending me away." Liam cringed. Who would protect the master if he were sent on some silly errand?

The Doormaster smiled. "You'll still be here, lad. You just need something to do besides mollycoddle me. I think it is high time you made your own door."

Liam took a step back. "My own door?" he whispered. "Do you really mean it?" Suddenly doubt filled his mind. What if he failed? What would Mica and Willow think? Should he tell Belinda or wait until he knew it worked?

The Doormaster gave him little time to think. "I've already commissioned a set of doors to be crafted. They will be delivered tomorrow."

* * * * *

The next week flew by with preparations. The doors arrived. Liam gathered ingredients, made potions, and memorized spells. Finally everything was ready.

Confidently Liam mixed together the ingredients in the silver cauldron. Setting it aside he began crushing the lodestone in the mortar and thinking through the process. All was going smooth. Soon he would add the lodestone to the heated cauldron. A chill went through him. The heating stones! He set the mortar down almost spilling it and hurried to the cupboard. How many stones? Four? Five? He brought out five and set them under the cauldron.

Liam's hands trembled as he adjusted the pot over the heated stones and ran through the spell in his mind again. He checked the cauldron. The stripe was still green. It's taking too long, he thought. I should have used six. He lengthened the chain that held the cauldron, lowering it until it almost brushed the stones.

A quick glance at the mortar showed the ball was a lifeless lump resting in the bottom. He still had time. The cauldron's green stripe had turned bright yellow and the mixture was starting to steam. Now it was heating too fast. He jerked the chain up two links.

Snatching the vial from the table he flung white powder into the mortar. Hissing and spitting the powder foamed over the loadstone. He yanked his hand back and spun around to the cauldron. Its ring was turning orange. The lodestone began to spin.

So was his head. Time was short. He sprinkled more power on the lodestone and it took on a bluish cast. He glanced back at the cauldron. Its ring was already dark orange with tinges of red. He jerked on the chain to shorten it, and pain from the hot metal shot through his fingers.

Sucking his burnt fingers he turned back to the mortar squinting as tiny flashes sparked from the lodestone center like miniature lightning. It rose, a ring spreading around its middle. Ignoring the pain in his fingers he snatched up the mortar and tipped the lodestone into the cauldron.

"How's it going, lad?"

Liam jerked his head around and saw the Doormaster entering the room. All he could manage was a noncommittal nod. He turned his attention to the cauldron. The lodestone slowly stopped spinning. He had to cool the mixture quickly. Grabbing the tongs he jerked the heating stones out from under the cauldron.

"Just getting ready to test it sir," Liam said over his shoulder. The stones clacked together as he slid them back into the silver cupboard.

He turned back to see the Doormaster leaning over the cauldron. "Well done, lad. A fine batch. Shall I test it on the window?"

Relief and satisfaction washed over Liam as he watched the master paint a window with his first effort. When the window was done, the master smiled and handed him the brush. "Have at it, lad. Your first doors are waiting."

Liam hurriedly applied the solution to the doors.

"Steady, lad. You need to paint the doors not the floor."

Liam tried to slow down, but every time he thought about the next step he found himself rushing again. At last he could put down his brush.

The Doormaster's cane clicked on the stone floor as he inspected the doors. With a smile he nodded to Liam. "Not the best paint job I've seen, but it will suffice. Now's the time lad. Prepare yourself. Remember what you've learned. Keep your head and the spell will go fine."

Liam stepped up to the podium rubbing his damp palms against the sides of his robe. His hand trembled slightly as he opened the spell book. The pages rustled as he fumbled to find the right page. He read through the spell one last time.

Closing his eyes he started reciting the spell in his mind. Cold, damp air pooled at his feet, chilling his legs. His thoughts pushed the cold towards the doors as he opened his eyes. A blue fog thickened in front of him. He reached out to catch it. The fog burst upward. From the distance he could hear the Doormaster whisper, "Gently, lad. It takes a light hand to calm a wild horse."

Liam forced himself to relax, stilling his mind. The fog slowly swirled back to the floor. Extending his arms he tried again. Lightly he brushed the fog with his fingertips. The fog responded. He curled his hands and the fog thickened at his touch. To his delight Liam found he could direct the fog's movement. Gaining confidence he began, first to gather and then mold. His hands grew numb with cold as a crude blue door began to take shape. The cold crept up his arms. He concentrated, adding detail to the door.

Again he heard the Doormaster's whisper. "That's it, lad. Now finish it!"

The fog door hung in the air between the two wooden doors. Liam slapped his hands together. With a Bang the fog door shattered. Sparkling explosions filled the room.

Liam slumped against the podium blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He felt the Doormaster lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Well done, lad," the Doormaster said kindly. "You've earned a rest. Tomorrow we will test the fruit of your labors."

### Chapter 6

Bright sunlight on his face woke Liam the next morning. Pulling the blanket over his head he rolled over. He tried to drift back to sleep, but heard a faint mumbling coming from down the stairs. He tried to ignore it but the voices pulled him back from his dreams. He couldn't hear what they were saying and it irritated him that it was keeping him awake. Who is down there he wondered, and he uncovered his head to listen. The voices droned on. Then sweet laughter like ringing bells pulled him fully awake. They were back.

Liam jumped into his robe and pounded down the stairs. Four faces turned toward him as he burst through the door.

Mica raised his glass, "I hear we have another door to install."

Willow rose and gave him a quick hug. "News of your success has preceded you," she said.

Liam felt his face redden and Hodekin had to choke back a laugh as the Doormaster gave him a stern look. Liam hastened to change the subject. "Ah...when did you get back?"

"We slipped through the front door while you were guarding your pillow," Mica said.

"Easy to make a quiet entry when you have me to open the door for you," Hodekin mumbled.

"Come sit, lad. You're just in time to hear what your friends have discovered."

Liam took a seat and looked expectantly at Willow. With a quick glance to Mica, she began.

"There's not much to tell. The woods were free of even the stench of goblins. Three days into the journey we met a contingent of the king's guard who were patrolling the woods. We left the vial with them and returned."

"So now we just wait?" Liam asked.

"If the court discovers anything important, they will contact me," Willow said.

"Oh no, that simply will not do. With three of you here to coddle me I'll be drowned in well meant kindness," said the Doormaster. "Besides, Liam needs to travel first to Peat Town to install a door and then on to Highland Town. It seems to me he could use some company, and I could use some rest."

The three companions looked at each other, each thinking the same thing. What about the Doormaster's safety?

The Doormaster frowned at the trio. "Stop fretting over me like a flock of mother hens. Hodekin will be here to attend to any need I might have. Mica, you can secure the same donkey and cart you used last time. Willow, you're in charge of overseeing provisions. Hodekin will help you." The kobold smiled and shrugged. "Liam, you will test the doors and put the shop to rights before leaving." Liam pushed back his chair and started to stand.

The Doormaster waved him back into his seat. "It's settled then. If none of you drag your feet, the procession can leave by noon and I will have my peace." He turned and left, his cane clicking on the floor as he made his way down the hall.

"It would seem we have no choice," Willow said.

The boys nodded. Three hours later the cart was loaded and they were waving goodbye to Hodekin and the Doormaster.

* * * * *

The first day was pleasant riding with sunshine and a cool breeze. By noon the next day, the air had chilled. They could see Little Smoky's breath. They neared the mountain pass. Snowflakes swirled through the air and began to stick on Mica's hat brim. Little Smoky's hooves slipped on the frozen ruts as she toiled toward the crest.

Liam shivered and pulled his scarf further up around his neck. The wind blew snow in his eyes. The cart bumped and lurched over exposed stones slicked with ice. The only one who seemed unaffected was Willow. The cold did nothing to dampen her spirit or quiet her cheerful laugh.

The weather worsened as they topped the pass and began to descend. The road narrowed. To their right, dark granite slabs formed a wall of stone. On the other side the crumbling edge gave way to a sheer drop. Mica leaned hard on the brake to keep the cart from running against Little Smoky's heels. The wood squealed in protest and the cart skidded sideways.

Liam gripped the sideboard with numb fingers. The cart tipped toward the edge. With a jarring thump it straightened and he remembered to breathe. Just as he relaxed his grip, there was a large CRACK. The cart pitched into the mountainside.

Liam slammed into the sideboard, pain shooting through his ribs. Little Smoky snorted and shied sideways. Mica hauled on the reins and set the brake, but the cart continued to slide. Willow sprang from the cart and caught the bridle. She placed her hand on the donkey's neck and spoke softly. Little Smoky snorted and stood still.

Mica climbed down and knelt by the wheel.

Liam peered over the side holding his ribs. "What's wrong?"

"The spoke is cracked," he said. "Another bump like that will split it sure."

Liam stood and looked down the trail and then back up the pass. Their tracks were already filling with snow. The road was deserted. He shivered at the thought of having to spend the night here on the mountainside.

"We need to find shelter," said Willow. "Night will be coming soon."

To lighten the load on the wheel, they decided to walk. Mica led Little Smoky with Willow by his side. Liam trudged behind, rubbing his bruised ribs. The snow continued to fall, the wind whipping it into drifts that caught at their feet. The cloudy sky darkened and the sun slipped behind the mountain peak.

Liam was looking down, watching his feet to avoid tripping when he ran into the stopped cart. With a grunt he looked up. Willow was pointing off to the side.

He followed as she led them off the road stopping in front of a long abandoned stone cottage. It was built from natural stone that blended with the mountainside. Only eleven eyes could have spotted it in the swirling snow. Large patches of the thatched roof were missing exposing weathered rafters.

Rocks were missing from the chimney and a lopsided door hung from one hinge.

Mica handed Liam his sword. "Check out the house hero. There might be a mouse or two to slay. I think that's a lean-to in the back for Lit' Smoky." He clucked to the donkey and led her around the cabin.

Liam pulled on the door. It shifted and tilted, but the hinge held. Dim light filtered through the holes in the roof. Snow dusted the floor and a small drift covered the hearth.

A layer of dust coated the walls. Cobwebs hung like veils from the rafters. In front of the fireplace some wandering traveler had placed a crude bench made of stumps topped with a rough plank. Beside it was a pile of rubbish and broken pottery. Willow pushed the rags around and a mouse scurried past her feet and darted into a hole in the wall. She pulled out an old broom with worn bristles.

"Not a palace, but a fire would make it merrier," she said.

"I'll go find some firewood," Liam said. He leaned the sword against the hearth and went back outside. Snow was still falling lightly, but the wind was finally dying down. He followed the cart's track around the back of the cabin where Mica was brushing down Smoky.

A short distance beyond stood a stand of trees. He waved at Mica as he passed. Under the trees the thick pine bows sheltered the ground and dry wood was easy to find. Filling his arms he headed back to the cabin.

The last rays of the sun silhouetted the mountaintop highlighting a lone pine, its top blackened by an old lightning strike. While he stood staring at the tree, Mica called from the lean-to. "We'd all be a lot warmer if that wood was on the fire."

Liam smiled to himself and hurried inside. Willow had cleared the floor near the fireplace where the roof was still intact. It wasn't long before she had a cheerful fire burning. Mica had brought in provisions from the cart.

Mica and Willow shared the bench while they ate. Liam sat on the hearth listening to them discuss the problem with the cart. Absently he fed the fire with branches. The pine scent tugged at his mind and he thought again about the lone tree.

He dropped the branch he was holding and jumped up. "I've seen that tree before," he said.

Mica and Willow looked at him in surprise.

"The tree on the hill. The pine. The one hit by lightning. It's right outside the door."

"There's no tree outside the door hero," Mica said.

"Not this door. The glass doors in the wardrobe."

Mica and Willow looked at each other. "May have hit his head when the wheel broke," Mica said tapping the side of his head.

"No, I'm fine. When I was in the potion room I found a wardrobe with glass doors. They led to that pine tree up there on the hill."

They looked at him in stunned silence.

"Don't you see? I can use the door to get home and bring back a wheel. I will leave a note in the cart under the bench. Maybe Hodekin could meet us at the door with a new wheel."

* * * * *

As with everything, the doing took longer than the telling. It was the better part of two days before the wheel could be found. Time passed slowly for Liam. There wasn't much for anyone to do but wait. Willow did what little cleaning she could and Mica looked after Smoky's needs.

Liam's task was to gather firewood. The box was still half full, but he was bored. Mica and Willow sat on the floor leaning against the far wall talking in soft voices. Liam stood up and stretched. "Guess I'll go find some more wood."

Mica nodded absently. Willow looked up and gave him a quick smile.

A wave of crisp air cleared his head. Quickly he shut the door behind him. It didn't take too long to pile up a sizable stack of wood by the door. He wandered around for a bit, but wasn't ready to go back in. Mica and Willow were great friends, but he was beginning to feel like a third shoe.

He found a large pine tree that blocked the wind. Its branches sheltered the ground where years of pine needles made a soft cushion. Sitting down he leaned his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes. I'll just sit here for a few minutes he thought, and give Mica and Willow some time alone.

He wished he were in the castle sharing secrets with Belinda. He shoved his cold hands deeper into his pockets and his fingers closed around the shell. A smile spread over his face. Placing the shell to his ear he whistled softly. He waited tensely. Several seconds passed while he held his breath.

"Liam?" Her soft voice melted his loneliness.

He forgot about the snow as her voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

Belinda laughed and said, "It's so nice to talk to you after being surrounded by this pack of pretentious ninnies that fill the castle."

Liam blushed at the compliment, happy that Belinda could not see him. "Are they really that bad? I would have thought everyone at court would be educated and refined."

Belinda burst into a fit of giggles. "If only they were. Just today Basil the Duke's son stopped me on the street to tell me how clever my new hat looked."

Liam tried to sound nonchalant. "I'm sure you could make any hat pretty."

She scoffed. "This one was old and the ribbons were faded. The annoying court dandy didn't even bother to look at my hat. It was just an excuse to detain me."

"Did he ruin your morning?" he asked.

"No, but his day took a bad turn. A delivery cart came by and splashed mud all over his shiny new ridding boots."

Liam laughed out loud.

"The puffin was so indignant he chased the cart up the street. When he found it was supplies for Alabaster, he had to apologize to the driver for delaying the delivery."

Liam was still laughing when they were interrupted.

"Are you lost, hero?" Mica called from the porch.

"That's Mica calling. They probably think I've been attacked by a Woolly Bear. I better get back."

She laughed. "Go take good care of your friends."

* * * * *

Two days later the cart rattled into Peat Town. Mica nodded. "Where do we go to deliver this door?"

"Head for the center of town. The church is the largest building. You can't miss it."

The people they passed trudged along with bales of peat strapped on their backs. They looked up with tired eyes and little curiosity for the strangers.

"It seems these people have more than their share of troubles," Mica said.

"This is a poor town. It's hard to make a living cutting peat in the bogs," Liam said.

"You chose a worthy location for your door," Willow said. "The people here could use a touch of kindness."

Mica pulled the cart to a stop in front of the large stone church.

Liam jumped down. "I'll go find someone in charge and meet you back by the stables."

Mica and Willow drove off. Liam climbed the worn stone steps to the heavy front doors. The large iron handle chilled his hand as he pulled open the door. Dim light filtered through the ancient stained glass windows and he paused to let his eyes adjust.

Rows of old wooden pews led to a simple raised alter flanked by a bank of flickering candles. A robed figure knelt in front of them, his head bent in prayer.

Liam quietly made his way to the front of the church.

The man raised his head and turned. "What brings you to God's house my son?"

Liam looked at the old man's tattered robe and lined face. "I am sorry to disturb you. I'm looking for Friar Roark."

"You have found him," he said. He used his staff to rise to his feet.

"My name is Liam. The Doormaster wrote to you about me."

The Friar's face brightened. "Then it is true? You are here to install a door to Highland Town?"

Liam nodded.

Friar Roark placed a gnarled hand on Liam's shoulder. "This will mean so much to us. But where are my manners? We are poor, but we can at least give you a good meal." He peered over Liam's shoulder. "Did you travel all this way alone?"

"I have two companions. They have taken our donkey and cart to the stables."

"I will send someone to tend to your donkey and fetch your friends."

Soon they were all seated on benches around a rough hewn table in front of the kitchen fire. There was stew, with coarse brown bread, and fresh cider. It reminded Liam of the meals his mother served.

* * * * *

The next two days passed pleasantly. The boys installed the door in a church alcove while Willow explored the town. Liam was careful to explain to Friar Roark how the door worked and cautioned him about not letting magical items pass through it.

As they were preparing to leave, Friar Roark met them with bread and aged cheese and sent them on their way with his thanks and a blessing.

Once out of town Mica turned the cart northeast onto Bogwater Trail toward Highland Town. Pools of stagnant water flanked both sides of the muddy track. The cart's wheels splashed through puddles, sending up clouds of midges that had no qualms about dining on strangers. It wasn't long before they were longing for the cold clear air of Snowy Range pass.

Liam slapped the back of his neck, which was already covered with welts. "Even goblins would be a pleasant change from being eaten alive," he said.

"This place isn't fit for goblins," said Mica.

"I find the lack of goblins strangely curious," Willow said. "With all that trouble up north by Fairgrove, there wasn't even a rumor of goblins near Peat Town. While you two were busy with the door I had a chance to walk the town and speak to some of the locals. They tell me that there are goblins lurking in these bogs but they cause little trouble and choose to run rather than fight."

"Something around Fairgrove has them stirred up like a hive of bees," said Liam.

"Bees with poison swords," said Mica as he slapped yet another crawly off his neck.

They were all relieved when they finally got past the bogs and neared Highland Town. Even from a distance the noon sun reflected off the tall white stone buildings. It was busy and Liam was glad they didn't have to go far. The people hurrying past were better dressed. Smoky shied at the noise from the city.

Mica turned off the busy street and they traveled up a shaded road leading to the monastery. A high wall shielded it from the rest of the city. The plain adobe walls looked out of place in the shadow of the shinning white buildings. As they passed through the heavy wooden gate, they saw monks tending gardens. The sounds of the city faded and peaceful quiet settled over them. Smoky relaxed into an unhurried stride.

Mica reined back Smoky in front of the main building. Liam hopped from the cart. Before he could get to the door, it opened and a round, elderly monk appeared. Unlike Friar Roark, this man's robe showed no sign of wear. Dimples adorned his rosy cheeks as he smiled in greeting.

"Welcome to Highland Town Abbey. I am Abbot Taylor."

"Good afternoon Abbot. I am Liam. I believe you received a letter from Doormaster Ogden."

His smile widened. "Yes, indeed. The letter mentioned a door."

"We have it with us. We have already set the linked one in place in Peat Town."

"Wonderful. We have chosen a place for it in the house of healing. But first we must attend to the needs of you and your friends and care for your weary beast."

With a wave he summoned an apprentice who took Little Smoky's lead from Mica. The Abbot turned and led them inside talking all the while over his shoulder. "A meal is being prepared and someone will come for you within the hour." They reached the interior of the abbey. He stopped and swept his arm toward a short hallway that led to a small set of rooms. "Please, refresh yourselves...rest."

Mica rubbed his neck and peered around the doorway.

The Abbot placed his hand over his mouth. "Oh," he said, "you've been feeding the swamp midges, haven't you?"

"Not by choice, but they had me outnumbered ten thousand to one."

The little father laughed heartily and clapped him on the back. "But you've escaped, and they shouldn't bother you here. I'll have some midge balm sent up to your room. Wonderful concoction, wonderful," he said, and bustled off down the hall.

Liam took the first room. A window in the shape of a cross provided the only light. It was simply furnished with a narrow cot, but the blanket looked warm. Nothing adorned the bare walls except for an iron sconce and a short fat candle. A small table held a wash basin and coarse towel.

Liam washed up and lay down on the cot. He only meant to close his eyes for a moment, but was sound asleep when a knock on the door summoned him to dinner.

The meal was a simple fare of smoked fish, dark bread, and strong black tea.

* * * * *

The next two days passed much the same as they had in Peat Town. While the boys installed the door, Willow explored the town. Liam took time out to explain to the Abbot the dangers of passing through the door with magical items.

Once the door was installed, Liam tested it. He stepped through to the Peat Town church. The sound of the opening door startled the young boy polishing a nearby bench. He ran from the room shouting Friar Roark's name. The friar came running in, delighted to see Liam.

"Ah, you have completed your task! We must celebrate. A feast in your honor."

Liam backed toward the door shaking his head. "Please...sir...your happiness is my reward. I would rather remain an anonymous donor."

The friar looked disappointed. "Of course. If that is your wish?"

"Yes, thank you. May the doors serve your town for many years. Just remember the warnings. No magical items can pass through without great harm."

"I will remember."

Mica was waiting as he came through the door. "Welcome back hero. Looks like you're a doormaster now."

Liam felt his face get hot. "I'm just glad it worked."

"Ready to head home?"

Liam nodded.

* * * * *

Little Smoky was glad to be out of the barn and back on the road. At the crossroads outside of town they turned north. Liam wished they were going south to the castle to see Belinda, but he knew that wasn't possible. He smiled to himself. There was always the door to the bakery, and tonight he would talk to her again on the shell.

The Greenway was wide and smooth. It stretched all the way from the castle to Three Oaks Dale. Mature oaks cast dappled shadows on the road making the hot, sunny day cool and comfortable for travel. Willow hummed softly.

"What a pretty tune," Liam said.

"What a haunting melody. Does it have words?" Mica asked.

"It's the Ballad of the Wild Rose," Willow said, "the trials of two young lovers. I don't think it's ever been translated from Elvish."

"If you're willing, I'd like to hear it," Mica said.

"As you wish," Willow said. She began singing, her voice sweet and clear. Liam didn't understand the words, but they conjured images of bubbling springs, misty waterfalls, and elves passing hand in hand among the trees. When she finished, they rode on in silence each wrapped in their own thoughts.

They were still in high spirits when they spotted a beckoning grove on the edge of a pond, and they decided to stop early for the night.

Mica quickly fed and watered Little Smoky while Willow arranged the camp. "If you'll start the fire hero, we'll go stretch our legs and perhaps find dinner." He grabbed his bow from the cart and tossed Willow hers. They walked off towards the pond, their shoulders almost touching. Liam smiled. He could see his friends were happy.

He whistled a few bars of Willow's song while he gathered wood and started a fire. Soon he had a cheery blaze. Leaning back against a tree, he laced his fingers together behind his head and looked up. A soft breeze caused the leaves to dance, painting soft green patterns across the blue sky. He wished he could share this day with Belinda.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the shell. Slipping it over his ear, he whistled the three notes softly. Belinda answered right away.

"Isn't it early for your call?" she asked. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is wonderful," Liam said. "The doors are installed and tested. Now the people from Peat Town have access to Highland Town."

"That will make such a difference for them. It will enrich their lives and give them greater access to the kingdom." Her voice softened. "I'm so proud of you."

Liam felt a thrill of pride, and struggled to cover his embarrassment. "It will make my mother happy."

"It's your first door. You must tell her all about it as soon as you can."

Liam smiled. "I'll write her a letter as soon as I get home."

He could hear voices in the background. Belinda said, "I hear the queen. I must go." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Goodnight, Doormaster."

Liam laughed out loud and slipped the shell back into his pocket.

He was still grinning when Mica and Willow returned. Mica was carrying a pair of coneys. Willow held a bundle of green sticks.

"Did you fall asleep hero? That fire's not near hot enough to cook on."

Liam looked at the sticks Willow carried and said, "Those look too green to burn. Let's use these." He took a thick branch from his pile and set it on the fire."

Willow laughed. "These are not destined for the flames. They are Ol-saiget reeds and will soon become fine arrows.

Mica picked up one of the reeds and tapped it against his hand. "Quite amazing. Hollow, yet strong. I've walked past these reeds for years and never thought of them as arrows."

Willow handed Liam a pouch filled with tubers and herbs. "If you would be so kind as to prepare the stew, I will continue Mica's education." She smiled sweetly at Mica and took the reed he was holding. With a deft movement of her knife she trimmed off the leaves and set them aside. "Nothing is wasted. The leaves will be used for fletching."

Before dinner was ready, Mica and Willow had turned the pile of reeds into a quiver full of arrows.

Darkness came quickly to the grove. Willow climbed a convenient tree and the boys settled into the back of the cart for the night.

* * * * *

Liam woke to the sound of soft voices. He yawned and stretched. The voices did not belong to Mica and Willow. He jerked awake. Trying to move quietly he pulled himself up and looked over the side of the cart.

A half dozen elves dressed in brown leather sat around the remnants of last night's fire. A long narrow sword hung from each one's hip. Their short bows were stacked against the tree. Liam could see knife handles extending above the cuffs of their high top boots, each marked with the elf king's insignia.

They were talking to Mica and Willow and passing around what looked like packets of dried fruit and smoked fish.

Liam crawled out of the cart and shook the straw from his robe, keenly aware of the travel stains. He ran his fingers through his hair. This will have to do, he thought. He tried to slip in beside Mica without drawing attention, but Willow spoke as soon as he walked up. "And this is Liam, the third member of our party."

Six stern faces turned towards him. Liam bowed and gave them a weak smile. The leader looked him up and down. "You're not armed," he said.

Liam stammered. "I...I left my sword in the cart, sir."

"Best not to stray too far from it. These woods are not as friendly as one might think." He turned his attention back to Willow.

"We have neither seen nor heard trace of goblins since Highland Town," Willow said.

"They are gathering in number. Often attacking small groups of travelers. Father north and east they are even more bold." He tossed the last of his fish into the fire and stood. The others rose to their feet as did Willow and the boys. "Have care while traveling," he said. He adjusted his sword belt and picked up his bow. "There are unfriendly eyes in the woods."

"We are forewarned," Willow said. "Thank you for your service."

The elves faded silently into the woods.

Liam looked to Mica. "Do you think the Doormaster is in danger?"

Mica glanced sideways at Willow before answering. "Safe enough as long as he doesn't store any more crates in his cellar."

"All the same," Willow said, "we should not linger on the road."

* * * * *

Thoughts of the Doormaster troubled Liam for the rest of the trip. Even pleasant weather did little to cheer his mood. Finally they arrived and Mica pulled up to the Doormaster's house. Before the cart had stopped, Liam hopped off.

Hodekin popped out the door and danced down the steps clicking his heels. "'Bout time you showed yourselves."

"We'll drop off the cart and meet you back here," Mica said. "Hold the fort hero." He slapped the reins and drove off.

"No problems?" Liam asked.

"Surprise, surprise, I managed all by myself."

"That's not what I meant," Liam said.

"I know." Hodekin led the way to the kitchen. "Fill me in on the journey."

It didn't take long for Liam to tell him about the trip. It was pretty uneventful. "How are things with your cousins in the potion room? Are they helping with the watch?"

"They didn't find goblins, but they did find something."

"What do you mean?" Liam wondered what new danger they were facing.

"Follow me." The little kobold led him down the stairs to the cavernous spell room.

Hodekin closed the door and stoked the fire in the pit. Light in the sconces flared up.

Liam was relieved to see the room was empty. "So what did they find?" he asked.

With a satisfied grin Hodekin skipped to the podium. Reaching up he tugged on the griffin head. To Liam's surprise, it came off in Hodekin's hands. A notched rod extended from the griffin's neck.

"We've discovered the griffin key," said Hodekin.

"A key? To what?" Liam asked.

Hodekin crossed to the fire pit. With a smug glance at Liam he inserted the rod into the open mouth of one of the gargoyles. It made a soft snicking sound as he turned the head.

With a muffled grating noise the fire pit slid sideways revealing a dark opening. Liam took a hesitant step forward and peered down shadowed stairs.

"I didn't know this was here hidden under the fire pit. Have you been down?"

Hodekin shrugged. "Of course." He handed him a fire globe. "Take a look. Nothing down there but an old door and some windows."

Liam took the fire globe and made his way down the stairs. He found himself in a long narrow chamber. As if waiting to be spelled, a door stood in the center of the room with a gaping hole where the window should have been.

He raised the fire globe and light spread across the room. Stone shelves were stacked with wood framed windows, each the right shape and size to be mounted in the door.

Liam moved down the rows of identical windows until he reached the last one. Looking carefully he noticed writing carved into the wood. Liam removed the window from the shelf. Painted in tall even script were the words PEAT TOWN CHAPEL. Turning it over he read HIGHLAND ABBEY.

He almost dropped the window. This window was linked to his doors. Looking at the shelves of windows he recognized many of the names. He realized that each of them must be linked to a set of doors that the Doormaster had spelled. He replaced his window on the shelf; careful to leave it the same way he found it. Anyone who knew about this room could use any of the Doormaster's doors. By placing one of them in the empty door, it would become linked to the other two. Just like a master key. He climbed the stairs deep in thought and went out back.

He was still sitting on the back porch when Mica and Willow came walking up the path. They had their heads together and were laughing at some private joke. Liam smiled. They made a nice pair.

Mica looked up. "I thought you would be reporting to the Doormaster."

"Not yet. He is resting in his room. I will try later."

Hodekin popped out of the back door, boot heels clicking on the wooden porch. "Did you tell them about the room under the spell room yet?"

Liam blanched. "Hodekin! This is not the place to discuss secrets."

Willow raised her eyebrows looking at Liam. He knew he would have to tell them about the room. "It's a nice evening. Let's take a walk down by the river," he said.

Liam's mind raced as they silently made their way down to a shaded place by the water. They sat on the grass and Liam felt the tension as they waited for him to say something.

Liam looked at his friends. "What I'm going to tell you must stay between us. It would be dangerous for others to know about this."

Hodekin stopped throwing rocks into the river. "What's so special about an old door and some windows?"

"That's just it. It's not just an old door. It's a key to every door the master has ever linked." He waited a minute for the idea to sink in.

Willow spoke first. "What exactly do you mean by a key?"

"Well, if I'm right it would mean that this door is linked to all the other doors. A master door."

Willow narrowed her eyes. "How is it possible to add a link to the doors? Do not all the items, whether they be rings or doors, have to be linked at the same time?"

"They were...in a way." He looked around to make sure they were still alone, then continued in a lower voice. "When the master links a set of doors he always tests the potion first on a spare window. I never thought about it at the time, but now I believe he links the spare window to the doors. I think that the store room holds a window for every door the master has made. Place a window in the master door and it is linked to the other two doors."

Willow's eyes grew wide. "The one who controls that door could walk into a great many places."

"And cause a great amount of trouble while he was at it," chimed in Mica.

Hodekin's face turned red. Standing straight with shoulders back he bristled with rage. "The master would do no such thing! Continue to talk that way at your own peril!"

Mica recoiled with surprise. Before he could recover Liam stepped in. "Easy everyone, no one is accused of anything."

"However, if Liam is right the possibility to use this for evil is great," Willow noted.

Liam stood up. "I refuse to believe ill of my master without solid proof."

Gracefully Willow rose and placed a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Your loyalty is commendable and I trust your instincts, but my duty to my king requires me to follow any path that may lead to discover how our enemies are acquiring magical arms."

Mica spoke up. "We are already watching him for his protection. If he is false his mischief will out."

Hodekin sputtered, "You can watch all you want but my master is up to no harm." He shook his finger at them and pointed at each one. "And I will be watching you." He jerked his hat down tight and stalked back toward the house.

### Chapter 7

The next morning the Doormaster asked Liam to take the map he had been making to Drindle. Liam was glad for the diversion. He wasn't ready to face his friends just yet. Giving everyone time to cool down would be good. The thought of his friends truly fighting was distressing.

Once in the potion room, Liam unfolded the map he had made and started down the aisles looking for landmarks. It wasn't long before he found the red and yellow urn that Drindle used for his bath water. From there it was easy to find the door to the bakery.

His key opened the lock since it was the same as his master's door. Two steps in to the room he stubbed his toe on the bottom step. Feeling his way he shuffled up the stairs. At the top, a dim light shone from behind the curtain that led to the bakery.

He stood listening to muffled voices coming from the shop beyond. The sweet scent of vanilla and nutmeg mixed with the aroma of fresh baked bread making his stomach growl. The bell on the bakery door tinkled, then all was quiet.

Peeking around the curtain, he saw Drindle was alone in the shop wiping down the counter. He cleared his throat as he stepped through the curtain.

Drindle spun around in surprise, long arms flapping. Then a big smile spread under his pointed nose as he recognized Liam. He wiped his hands on his stained apron before extending a long thin arm.

"Welcome my young friend. I see you made your way back." He stood shaking Liam's hand until Liam thought he would shake it off. Then the baker stopped and leaned over him, his beady eyes sparkling. "Is that the map?"

Liam looked down and realized he was still holding it. He nodded and held it out. Drindle took it gingerly with one boney finger and thumb. Spreading it out on the counter he peered closely at the drawing, muttering as he recognized landmarks. "Ah, the urn, the wardrobe, the sizzling pot. Yes, I believe I can easily make my way through to Ogden's."

"The master is really looking forward to your visit. He mentioned how delicious your cake and crumpets were."

Drindle laughed. "The old fox. Could mix a fine potion, but his cakes were always dry as sand. I wish I could go today, but the king is expecting his weekly delivery tomorrow and I haven't finished my baking. Then there's the delivery to the castle and all." He looked disappointed.

At the mention of the castle, Liam perked up. "I could make tomorrow morning's delivery for you," he offered thinking this would be a perfect opportunity to see Belinda.

Drindle beamed. "Do you think Ogden would mind me borrowing his apprentice?"

"Not when it means he will get to visit with you," Liam said.

"Well then it's settled. Be here before the sun rises. I'll have the hand cart loaded with delicacies for the king and a kingly breakfast for you in the bargain." He rubbed his hands together and glanced around at the shelves loaded with pastries. Picking up a small cake drizzled with creamy icing he sprinkled it with chocolate shavings and handed it to him with a flourish. "Off with you now. And mind, don't be late!"

* * * * *

Liam stepped through the door into the spell room licking his fingers. He raced up to his room. He couldn't wait to tell Belinda the news. Hoping she would be listening, he slipped on the shell and whistled softly.

To his delight she answered. "Liam! I was hoping to hear your voice. Things have been dull. I've been wearing the shell all day hoping you would call."

"If things are that dull, maybe you wouldn't mind seeing me. Maybe tomorrow?" He held his breath waiting for her answer.

"Really? I would love to see you. When?"

He breathed out in relief. "I have errands at the castle tomorrow. I'll be delivering Drindle's baked goods at sunrise."

"Then I will meet you at the lift by I'llaskya's table. We'll take the breads up to Lumba's kitchen together. Oh, the princess is waking up. I have to go." And she was gone.

Liam set the shell down on the table and sat on the bed. Lumba. He'd forgotten all about Lumba. There wasn't much time to worry about it though. By the time he'd finished his chores it was dinnertime. The Doormaster and Hodekin were already at the table when Liam slipped into his chair.

Hodekin passed him a chunk of bread and ladled potato soup into a bowl.

Liam tore a piece off the bread. "Seems a little quiet without Mica and Willow."

Hodekin plopped the bowl down in front of Liam, slopping soup on the table. "Conversation's overrated. Too much chatter is bad for the digestion."

Liam avoided Hodekin's scowl and changed the subject. "I had a good visit with the baker Drindle today," he said between bites. "He accepted your invitation and could come tomorrow if he had someone to make his delivery to the king."

"Hmmm, I see," The Doormaster said with a sly smile. "Perhaps we could find a volunteer. Delivering a little bread shouldn't be much of a hardship for a strong lad," he said with a wink.

"No hardship at all, sir," Liam said. "I'd be happy to go."

"It will take some time for Drindle and I to catch up on the years that have passed. I'm sure you can find a pleasant way to spend some time at the castle."

"Sounds like almost everyone has something pleasant to do tomorrow," Hodekin muttered.

"It's been a while since you've had a day to yourself, Hodekin. If I know Drindle, he won't be satisfied without showing off his latest delicacies. I think the old bird and I can muddle through an afternoon. It might be a good time for you to take a bottle from the cellar and share it with one of your friends."

Hodekin popped out of his seat and straightened his vest with a tug. Jumping up he clicked his heels together. "That's such a grand idea I think I might start tonight." With that he left the room, his feet dancing a jig to a tune only he could hear.

The Doormaster laughed out loud. "I guess that leaves the cleaning up for us, lad."

"There's not much needed, sir," Liam said. "I'll clear it away."

* * * * *

The room was still dark when Liam climbed out of bed, fumbling to remove the shield from the fire globe. The water was cold as he splashed his face then ran his wet fingers through his hair to smooth it down. From the chest at the end of his bed he pulled out a fresh robe and slipped it over his head.

With a light tread he padded down the stairs, smiling as he passed Hodekin's room. He must still be enjoying his holiday. His bed had not been slept in.

He made his way to the spell room and hung his fire globe outside the door. Soon he was hurrying through the potion room to the baker's door. Then he followed his nose up the stairs to the wonderful smells of fresh bread and spices. Pulling aside the curtain he was amazed to see a cart overflowing with croissants, scones, muffins, cakes, tarts, and a large cherry pie balanced on top.

Drindle hurried to and fro about the shop in a cloud of flour. He spun to a stop when he spotted Liam. "O good. You're here. The cart is packed and breakfast is on the table."

Liam's eyes widened when he saw the bounty laid out on the table. It practically overflowed with fresh baked goods. "I don't think I can eat all this."

"No?"

He hesitated. "There is someone at the castle I could share it with."

Drindle leaned over and looked down his long thin nose. "And who might that be?"

"Um...her name is Belinda."

With a peal of laughter Drindle threw his long arms in the air creating a small storm of flour. "Aha. A lady is it? Now it becomes clear why you are such a willing courier."

Liam felt his face warm. Still smiling Drindle pulled a basket from a high shelf. With a flourish he lined the basket with a red checked cloth and began filling it with muffins, sweat breads, and a small crock of gooseberry jam. In the center he set a small white cake trimmed with tiny pink flowers. "For the lady," he said and handed him the basket. Then opening the door in the back of the shop he swept his arm in an arc. "Off you go now. I won't have the king's baked goods getting stale."

Clutching the basket, Liam pushed the cart through the door and emerged in the corridor leading to the pit. He looked around to get his bearings. The hallway was filled with doors, but it was not the corridor where he installed the Three Finger Lake door. It was quieter than his last visit but he could still hear a faint hum of noise. He headed in that direction.

The light brightened as he entered the lift room. He scanned the area. His eyes lit up when he saw Belinda standing at the other side of the room. She faced away from him, her gaze toward one of the other hallways.

Liam forgot about Drindle's cart and the other people. The light peach color of Belinda's gown made her skin glow. Her long red hair was caught up in a silver net, but one strand had escaped and curled around her ear. A white sash circled her slim waist and was tied in a bow at her back. The soft material of her skirt swirled smoothly as she turned toward him. Their eyes met and she smiled sweetly.

She started towards him and with one slim hand pulled the shell from her ear and tucked it into her sash. Liam gave the cart a shove and started across the room. He couldn't figure out why she would want to spend time with him, but he was thrilled she did. She could have her pick of any of the young men in the court, but she was walking towards him. He stood taller.

She fell in beside him matching his stride. "Someone has been busy all night. I didn't realize the court ate that much pastry in a week. It smells wonderful. I'm tempted to become a thief."

"Oh," he said, "I almost forgot. I brought breakfast," and he held up the basket.

"What a resourceful friend. You've saved me from a life of crime." Laughing, she took the basket and led the way up to I'llaskya's table.

"I'llaskya yer business," the gnome said in the same gravely voice as Liam remembered from before.

"Baked goods for the king," Liam said.

"For the king ya say. I'll be the judge of that." He snatched up a croissant and took a large bite. He was still chewing as he jerked his thumb toward the lift. "It's Drindle's all right." He swallowed. "Don't keep Lumba waiting. Payment'll be here on yer way out."

They laughed all the way to the kitchen. Liam's luck was holding. Lumba was nowhere to be seen and one of the cook's helpers took the cart.

As it was being unloaded, Belinda handed him the basket and slipped her arm through his. She steered him back into the hall. "We can come back for the cart later," she whispered. "Let's go have breakfast. I know the perfect place."

Their footsteps echoed softly as they passed through little used passages and back stairwells until they entered a wide hall. On the left an elaborate tapestry hung on the wall opposite a set of double doors. Liam's steps slowed as he stared up at the king's seal. A black peregrine flew with outstretched wings over a diamond-checked pattern of purple and white.

He heard a latch clink behind him. Turning he saw Belinda opening the doors. Light spilled into the hall. Belinda turned. Sunlight caught the loose strand of hair turning it to gold. She beckoned and he followed her onto a balcony.

The smell of wisteria surrounded them. On either side of the balcony heavy stone planters held the vines. They curled and wound around the white balcony rails, flowing over the edge in a mass. Light purple flowers hung in heavy clusters filling the air with perfume.

Belinda gently pulled the basket from his hand and set it on a stone table. It's top was inlaid with rich purple amethyst and milk white quartz in the king's diamond pattern. But it was the bench that drew Liam's eye. A regal peregrine carved from obsidian stared at them with jeweled eyes. It stood behind the bench, encircling it with its wings.

She pulled the cloth from the basket and spread it over the table. "Percival looks austere, but he's really rather friendly when you get you to know him."

"Percival?"

"The peregrine," she said laughing. "That's what Princess Jenna calls him." She chose a pastry from the basket and walked to the edge of the balcony. Sweeping her arm in a graceful arc she said, "This is where the king stands to give his speeches. The princess and I sit on the bench with Percival."

Liam chose a pastry and joined her at the wall. "Princess Jenna is pretty young. Doesn't she find it hard to listen to long speeches?"

"Oh, no. The king is a wonderful speaker and listening to speeches is part of her training in statehood. One day she will stand in this very spot." Leaning against the railing she pointed to the flagstones below. "Her subjects will gather outside the ballroom in the courtyard and gaze up at her."

Liam stood close leaning against the railing, but his gaze was not on the flagstones. Belinda turned and her breath bushed his cheek. Liam leaned forward. Her eyes closed. For just a second their lips touched. Boot heels echoed on the flagstones below shattering the moment. Belinda pulled back. The wisteria vine snagged her dress, spilling something from her sash.

Belinda lunged for the shell. "Wait!" Liam hissed. His arm encircled her waist and pulled her back.

"My shell," she said, twisting in his arms to see over the side.

Liam looked over her shoulder. The shell lay on a decorative niche, well out of reach. A flash of white caught his eye. Alabaster swept into the courtyard, his robe billowing behind him. Instinctively Liam stepped back behind the screen of wisteria, pulling Belinda with him.

She gently pushed away. With a soft laugh she said, "I'm not going to jump, but how are we going to get the shell?"

Liam pointed through the leaves. "Let's wait till the crowd clears."

They watched two rough looking men trudge in to the courtyard pulling a covered cart. The short stocky men wore ill fitting cloaks covered with travel stains, the hems dragging in the dirt. Liam peered through the foliage trying to see their faces, but they were hidden beneath dark hoods. Alabaster stood near his tower and waited as the men approached.

Liam strained to hear what they were saying. He couldn't quite catch the words, but the white wizard's tone carried clear authority. One of the unkempt men grunted in reply and pulled back the tarp revealing a large black crate. Alabaster scrutinized it, then gestured towards the tower. Immediately the men began shaking their heads and cutting the air with their arms. It was clear they were not happy.

Alabaster pounded the ground with his staff and pointed again at the tower. Liam could hear the words clearly now. "You were hired to deliver this crate to my chambers in the tower. Until that happens there will be NO PAYMENT!" The last words cracked like a whip. The men cringed and drew back.

Grumbling and cursing each other, they unloaded the cart, each blaming the other for their bad luck. With a good deal of shoving and shouting they hoisted the crate between them. Struggling with the heavy crate, they nearly dropped it. It pitched sideways with a dull clanking.

"You oaf! If you damage the goods, it will be deducted from your pay," Alabaster said. With a swirl of his robes he stalked through the dark doorway. The men plodded behind with a steady stream of curses.

Liam's eyes swept over the tower as he tried to calculate its impressive height. He gave a low whistle. "I don't know what Alabaster offered as payment but it must have been a small ransom."

Belinda stared across the courtyard. "And what could be in that crate that would be worth such a high price?" she asked distractedly.

"Something heavy," said Liam. "But we should retrieve your shell before the rest of the castle starts to stir."

Liam tugged on the wisteria vine and looked over the edge. It didn't look any worse than climbing down the rope out of Willow's tree. He gave Belinda a grin and swung out over the edge. With a scraping noise the planter shifted under his weight. Liam gasped, his fingers clawing for the ledge as he dropped below the railing. With a lurch the planter thumped against the rail swinging Liam against the wall.

"Oof," Liam grunted. He flailed his feet scrambling for balance. After a moment of panic he found a foothold.

Belinda's face appeared over the railing. "Liam! What are you doing?"

Liam took a deep breath and tentatively shifted his weight. The vine held. Taking a firmer grip on the vine he looked up and gave her what he hoped was a confident grin. "That was a little more exciting than I expected."

"Exciting! You won't be very exciting if you land on the flagstones. How are you going to get back up?"

Liam looked around. The wall was a mass of protruding decorations carved into the stone. Just below his feet he spied the shell. All he had to do was retrieve it, climb up the wall, and he would be a hero in her eyes.

"Wait there. This will take but a moment."

Hand over hand on the vine he started down the wall using the carvings for footholds.

"Have you lost your wits? I can live without the shell."

"Don't worry. It's not much harder than climbing a ladder." In a couple more steps he had reached the niche. Shifting his weight he lodged his feet and wrapped the vine around his wrist. With his free hand he plucked the shell from where it lay and tucked it behind his ear.

Going up proved easier than going down. He didn't have to search for the footholds. He could see them as he scaled the wall. As he reached the balcony, Belinda clutched his arm and pulled him over the railing.

"You scared me," she said her voice shaking.

Smiling, Liam removed the shell. His fingers brushed her neck as he tucked the shell behind her ear.

She stepped back. Pulling off the shell she tucked it into her sash. "No more heroics," she said. "The castle will be waking up." She crossed over to the table and packed up the basket. "We need to get your cart. Lumba will be stomping around the kitchen wondering where we are."

Liam blanched. Climbing up the wall had been easy compared to the thought of Lumba discovering them on the balcony together.

She brushed the crumbs from the table into her hand and left them in a small pile on the railing. "For the birds," she said. Taking his arm she led him back through the doors.

"Do you often feed the birds?"

"Oh yes. I love watching the birds, especially the emperor birds."

"Do they come to the castle often?"

She nodded and with a smile said, "They live here. Would you like to see them?"

Liam remembered the flash of bright color when the bird flew over him in the woods. "I would love to see one up close."

She turned down a side corridor and passed through a doorway leading to a small outside landing. The day was just starting to get warm.

"Do the birds land here?" Liam asked.

Belinda giggled. "No. They land up there," she said pointing to the top of the tower.

Liam craned his neck to see all the way to the top. It made him dizzy and he stumbled a step sideways. He looked down quickly hoping Belinda hadn't noticed.

She was standing at the bottom of a narrow flight of steps that wrapped around the outside of the tower. Lifting the hem of her skirt with one hand she started up the stairs. "Mind your step." She ran her fingers lightly along the wall where a groove in the stone provided a thin handhold. In just a few steps she had disappeared around the wall.

Liam looked at the narrow stone steps and swallowed hard. It was clear that the builder had no fear of heights. The groove running along the wall was little more than decoration and offered little comfort from the open drop off on the outside of the stairs.

He shifted the basket to his left hand. Running his fingers in the groove, he started climbing. Belinda was nowhere in sight. A light breeze tugged at his robe. As the stairway rounded the corner he heard a noise from below. Glancing past the toe of his boot he looked down and saw the courtyard far below. This was much worse than the vines or the tree ladder. His stomach turned. He clutched at the handhold and waited for his head to clear.

"I hope there's an easier way down," he said under his breath. Forcing his feet to move he began climbing again, careful not to look over the edge. To his relief he came to a landing and a door. As he stood wondering if Belinda had gone inside, her voice called down to him.

"Hurry up before the birds leave," she called.

He looked up. Belinda leaned over the wall. Strands of her hair had escaped from the netting and blew around her face. She waved. "What's keeping you? Is the basket too heavy?"

He raised the basket in a salute. "I'll be right up."

Her head disappeared back behind the wall. Taking a deep breath Liam did his best to hurry. To his great relief the steps ended and he passed under an arch into an aviary. Crenellations formed the outside wall. Four stone pillars supported a copper roof leaving the aviary open from the top of the crenellations to the roof. Ebony perches extended from the pillars.

Belinda sat in one of the crenellations talking softly. Liam watched in amazement as she stroked an emperor bird, smoothing its feathers. The bird's eyes closed and a warble rumbled from deep in its chest.

Liam took a step forward. His boot heel scuffed the stone floor. The bird's eyes opened. Cocking its head its eyes bored into Liam. With a screech it flapped its wings.

From around the room other birds echoed the cry. With a rush of wind the air was filled with flapping wings. Belinda's laugher joined with the bird cries. With arms spread wide she spun in the center of the room. In an elaborate dance the birds flew, swooping and diving around her, their feathers flashing in a firestorm of color. Liam stood transfixed as the color and sound washed over him.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

With a start Liam looked over his shoulder. A short bald man with a long wispy mustache stood watching Belinda and the birds. "Quite amazing, really," he said. "She's the only one they dance with."

The man's eyes followed the birds' movements, never looking at Liam even when he spoke. His speckled robe was the color of a bird's nest and his belly was as round as an egg. A wide red belt circled his ample waist, straining at the last notch.

One by one the birds landed on the perches and their calls quieted. Belinda skipped across the floor. Her hair had come loose from the netting and fell across her shoulders.

"Isn't it a lovely morning, Fidrych?" she said.

He smiled. "The birds seem to think so. They love your company."

Her face looked wistful. "They are so beautiful I wish I could fly with them, but alas I have no wings." Then her face broke into a smile and she said, "But I want you to meet my friend, Liam." She took Liam's arm and pulled him closer." He is apprenticed to Doormaster Ogden."

Fidrych twirled the end of his mustache, giving Liam an appraising stare.

Liam nodded at the old man and said, "The birds are amazing. I saw one in the woods once, but up close they are a true wonder."

"Ah, yes. The Dryad's Wood wasn't it? Near the pond I believe."

Liam stared. "How could you know? Do your birds talk?"

He laughed. "No. But they see quite well."

"I don't understand."

"Come," he said. "I will show you something that amazed even Ogden." With that he turned and hopped down the stairs.

Liam looked at Belinda for an explanation. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, but she shrugged and whispered, "Let's go see."

Liam's curiosity overcame his fear of heights and he willingly followed Fidrych down the twisting steps. In spite of his size, the birdman was agile and did not even bother with the hand holds. He led them through the door that Liam had passed on the way up.

They entered a dimly lit room where heavy tapestries hung on the walls, muffling their footsteps. A large overstuffed chair faced a line of windows that wrapped around the curve of one wall. Each window looked out on a different scene. It was like looking through one of the Doormaster's doors, but to Liam's confusion the scenes in the windows seemed to be moving. The perspective kept changing and watching it made his stomach queasy.

Liam turned back to Fidrych. "They are linked...but why are they moving?"

Belinda didn't appear to be bothered by the movement. She stepped closer to one of the windows. "It's a mirror," she said softly.

She peered closely. A view of one of the crenellations and a perch moved across the surface. Suddenly the crenellation jumped toward them. It disappeared below them as they went over the wall. Belinda gasped and fell back. Instinctively Liam dropped the basket and caught her in his arms. He squeezed her tightly as the ground rushed toward them. With a gut wrenching swoop the ground disappeared and blue sky filled the mirror.

Fidrych chuckled. "Takes a little getting used to."

They turned away from the mirrors. Fidrych was sitting in the chair. He reached over and selected a pastry from Liam's basket. "Your first flight would have been easier sitting down." Smiling, he took a big bite.

Belinda gently disentangled herself from Liam's arms.

"Flight?" Liam asked.

Fidrych wiped a stray bit of frosting from his lips and licked his finger. "You might say the mirrors give me a bird's eye view."

"You...you...you linked the mirrors to the birds?" Liam asked.

Fidrych lifted his half-eaten pastry in salute. "I knew Ogden's apprentice would figure it out."

"I can see what you've done," Liam said. "But how do you link a living creature to a mirror?"

"You've heard the riddle, which comes first, the pheasant or the egg? Well, in this case, it is the egg."

"You link the egg?"

Fidrych popped the last crumb into his mouth and nodded. "They must be linked before they hatch." He licked his fingers one by one. "And not just any bird will do. Most birds are interested only in what they can eat. And other birds of course. But the Emperor Bird. Ah, they are wonderfully curious. My bird was just as fascinated by you in the Dryad's Wood, as you were with her."

"Fidrych!" Belinda said her eyes flashing. "You've been using these beautiful creatures as spies. I thought you cared about them."

The birdman's eyes widened. "But Belinda my dear, while it's true they perform a valuable service for the king, I do care deeply for them."

Belinda narrowed her eyes, "Yet you send them into danger to spy."

Fidrych shook his head. "I don't control them. They go where they will. I simply have the privilege of flying along with them."

"I have been coming to visit you and the birds since I was a little girl. Why show us the mirrors now?"

"This secret is not shared lightly. Change is happening across the land. Goblins are massing. They have been seen in the company of trolls."

Liam scowled. "They are attacking people on the road and in their homes. If the king knows about the goblins, why hasn't he taken action?"

A look of sadness came over his face. "My birds travel where they will, and I see many things. But often I am unable to determine their location. When I saw you on my roof, I remembered your face from the Dryad's Wood. For several days my bird caught glimpses of you in the woods, but there were no landmarks I recognized."

"I remember where I was," Liam said, "but why would that be important to the king?"

"Your location is not my concern. It's the goblins I saw in the mirrors during those same days. Several times I saw large groups of goblins within a few miles of you, as the bird flies." The carefree manner left his face and he studied Liam. "I shared the bird's secret with you, hoping you could help."

Belinda placed her hand on Liam's shoulder. "Please, Liam. Help if you can."

Fidrych levered himself out of the chair. Wiping his hands on his robe he crossed the room and stopped in front of a tapestry that depicted a map of the kingdom. "Here is the Dryad's Wood," he said, pointing. "Can you tell me where you went from there?"

Liam glanced at Belinda and she gave him an encouraging smile. He joined Fidrych at the map. For the next hour he retraced his travels, but was careful not to mention the king's door.

When he finished, it was time for Belinda to take up her duties for the day. She rushed him through the hallways and the pit and paused at Drindle's door.

Liam fumbled for words trying to think of something clever to say.

Belinda stretched up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I had a wonderful time," she whispered. "Come see me again." With a swirl of her skirts she turned and dashed back down the hall.

Liam's mind was still in a fog as he went through the door into the bakery. Drindle looked up from a cake he was decorating. A smile broke over his face as he studied the look on Liam's face. "Looks like you've lost my cart and basket."

Liam looked around and realized where he had left them.

Drindle laughed. "I don't think they are going to magically appear."

"I'll...I'll go get them," he stammered.

"No, no, no. No telling what you'll lose next time. Never mind. I'll collect them on my next trip. You best be getting back to Ogden. Do you think you can find your way home?"

Liam grinned sheepishly. "Yes, sir."

"Off with you then. Don't let this worry you. Come back and see me soon. If I don't happen to be around, feel free to use my door to see your lady."

### Chapter 8

When Liam got back to the spell room he saw his master arranging various items on the workbench.

"Ah, there you are lad. Just in time." He waved his arm at the overflowing shelf. "We've had quite a few requests this morning." He picked up two baskets tied together with a ribbon. "Start with these. They are for Farmer Tomkins's wife. She's getting older now and can't lift as much as she used to. These baskets will ease her burden. She can easily carry this small basket and whatever she puts in it will fill the large basket.

"Oh, and Solicitor Quigley has asked for a pair of linked message boxes. I think this pair should be up to his standards."

Liam opened one of the finely crafted wooden boxes. The inside was lined with deep blue silk. He closed the box and set it back on the shelf. A small sigh escaped his lips as he stared at the stack of work before him.

The Doormaster patted him on the back and said, "See what you can get done today. Take your time and make sure the links are strong. We have the rest of the week to finish them." With that the Doormaster made his way up the stairs.

Liam noticed that he was only limping slightly. Thankful that his master had not taken deeper injury in the battle, Liam smiled and turned to the work at hand.

Setting a small copper cauldron on the heating stone he added lilac oil and magnolia petals as a base. That would give the basket a nice scent. Smiling to himself, he threw in a couple extra petals for good measure and let the mixture simmer.

Taking an old, well-worn mortar and pestle, he added a few river reeds and a wisteria vine. As he ground them into a paste, the smell of wisteria grew stronger. His mind wandered back to the castle balcony. Holding Belinda. Looking down through the vines at Alabaster in the courtyard.

He took a deep breath. A caustic smell assaulted his nose. Spinning around he looked in despair at the cauldron. The mixture had cooked into a thick tar, which oozed over the edge. Black smoke curled up from the heating stone.

Jerking the cauldron off the stone he cried out in pain as the handle burned his fingers. The cauldron fell with a ringing clatter, spilling the nasty mixture across the stone floor and splattering his robe.

He grabbed a rag and started scrubbing at the sticky mess on the floor. The stone floor bruised his knees and the rag irritated his burnt fingers. He was in a foul mood by the time he got the mess cleaned up and was ready to begin again. Turning to his spell book he sighed with exasperation. The page was ruined. Black tarry spots obliterated the wording. He would have to recopy the page from his master's book. With a curse he threw the rag into the fire pit and the flames shot up around it.

He turned back to the shelf. A ray of sunlight angled down over the bench still filled with projects. Specks of dust danced lazily in the smoky sunbeam. He looked up. A patch of clear blue sky filled a small window.

His head began to ache. The dark spell room closed in around him. He needed fresh air and a fresh start. The page would need to be copied, but that could wait. His decision made, he headed for the stairs.

He was already out the door and through the back gate before he realized he was headed for the river. The sun warmed his back and his shadow led the way. He was almost to his favorite spot on the bank when a flash on the water and a splash caught his attention. He turned in time to see Mica pull in a nice sized fish.

"I see I'm not the only slacker," Liam called.

Mica leaned over and grasped the slippery fish. "Not slacking. I'm working on catching dinner."

With a deft movement he slipped the fish off the hook and onto the string that already held several others.

"If my luck holds I'll sell what I can't eat to the butcher."

"And here I thought you were just enjoying the fine day. I hope your efforts are for a good purpose."

"Aye. I do have a plan for the coin."

Liam waited for Mica to explain, but he should have known his friend better. Finally he had to ask, "And how do you plan on spending your riches?"

Mica hesitated and cast his eyes back to the river. "I've been collecting herbs for Miraz, but I need a little traveling money."

"Miraz? That funny little man with the talking pipe?"

Mica nodded. "Aye. That's the one." A flush spread up his neck and he said, "It might be that he would have a gift that would please a lady. Something she would think was special."

"Oh," Liam said.

"Miraz said he stops at Yellow Finger Lake every full moon. I could catch him there if I leave tomorrow."

Liam's mind raced ahead remembering the perils they went through on the trip to install the king's door. "This is not a journey you should take alone."

Mica shrugged. "The Doormaster's not likely to give up his apprentice for six days and it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I traveled with Willow."

Liam thought hard, then smiled. "What if it didn't take six days? What if we could do it in one night?"

Mica frowned. "Seems like your master wouldn't look kindly on us using his secret door."

Liam shook his head. "No, of course not. That's not what I was thinking."

Mica gave him a questioning look. "Then what?"

"We go through the potion room, to the baker, to the castle, through the king's door to the lake. If we leave after supper, we could still be there before the night grows old."

* * * * *

Two days later Liam and Mica stood at the bottom of the stairs outside the potion room door. The Doormaster had already retired to his room after supper. It was Hodekin's night to keep watch over the master.

Mica shifted his bulging knapsack to a more comfortable position.

"Looks like you have quite a collection for Miraz. You're sure there's nothing magical in there?" Liam asked. "Nothing in your pockets?"

Mica shook his head. "Just herbs. Where would I get anything magical?"

"Good. We don't want any unpleasant surprises," he said as he patted his own pockets. He pulled a silver mesh bag from a shelf and tucked it in his belt. Smiling at Mica he said, "Just in case you do find something magical you want to bring back."

Liam stepped through and held the door. Mica bent over and peered into the dusty gloom. "This place could use a good cleaning." He stepped through the door and took in the cluttered shelves. "It must be a chore to find things."

"They do tend to move around some," Liam said. Remembering how intimidating the room was the first time, he added, "But you get used to it." His eyes moved to the sack where the ball of string he no longer needed was hidden. He smiled to himself and started down the aisles, slowing often to let Mica examine oddities along the way.

Mica was so enthralled with the contents of the shelves he didn't notice when twice Liam made a wrong turn and had to backtrack. But soon he found his way to the baker's door. "Here we are," Liam said. He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door.

An overwhelming smell of yeast and cinnamon brushed past his face. His stomach rumbled as he fondly remembered Drindle's wares. The smell led them up the darkened stairs to a silent dimly lit kitchen, still warm from the day's baking. Drindle had already closed up the shop and gone home for the evening. A baker's day started hours before sunrise.

They made their way to the back of the baking room. On the kneading table sat a large basket covered with a checkered cloth. Liam lifted one corner and peeked inside. "Lucky for us. Drindle would never dream of selling day old pastries."

"Are you thinking about..."

"We'd just be saving him the trouble of making peasant pudding from his old baked goods."

Mica pulled the cloth back further. The basket was full of sticky cinnamon rolls stuck together with gooey icing. "I never did like peasant pudding," he said as he hooked a pair of rolls.

Liam tried pulling out one, but the sticky icing stuck them together and he ended up with two. Replacing the cloth he pointed to the back wall where the castle door was located. Mica headed to the door. Liam's conscience got the better of him. Reaching into his pocket he tossed two coppers on the table, then hurried to catch up with Mica.

Still munching the sticky treats, they stepped through the door into the castle. Being the end of the day, the hallway of doors was nearly deserted. The fire globes had been dimmed. Most of the merchants had delivered their goods and gone home.

The boys made their way to the center lift room where all the hallways joined. There were still a few merchants milling around the large room. Near the end of the aisle, two guards stood talking.

Mica bent and whispered in Liam's ear, "Is there another way?"

Liam shook his head. "Just follow me," he said, sounding braver than he felt.

One of the guards glanced their way, but never paused in the story he was telling.

Neither boy said anything until they were safely down the next tunnel. "That sweet face of yours is not much of a threat. Guess they don't know what a hero you are," Mica said with a wink.

Liam let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and gave Mica a half-hearted punch in the arm. Halfway down the tunnel he stopped at the familiar door. He ran his palm over the wood. "Looks as good as the day we delivered it."

With a quick glance up and down the tunnel he opened the door and they slipped through. Mica pulled the door shut and darkness enveloped them. Neither moved while their eyes adjusted. The full moon cast long shadows across the meadow where they had camped.

A path led from the door down towards the lake. The moonlight made following the path easy. It didn't take long to gather wood and start a fire, but the small branches burned quickly.

"We're going to need more wood," Mica said.

Standing around the small fire in the dark put Liam on edge. The firelight made him feel exposed, but noises from the dark trees made him reluctant to tramp off in to the dark for more wood. He laid his hand on the hilt of the dagger that he had tucked into his sash. He wished he had brought the goblin sword, but he could never have explained a weapon of that kind to the guards at the castle.

"Let's try near the lake," Liam said. "The path will make it easier walking."

Mica gave him a nervous nod. He looked uncomfortable without his bow.

Senses strained, they started down the path. An owl hooted from the trees and Liam flinched. His shoulder bumped into Mica. Embarrassed, he pretended to stumble.

"Careful hero," Mica said. "You're making me nervous."

The tension broke, and soon they were both laughing.

The path opened onto a small moonlit beach. Tiny waves gently lapped at the sand. To their surprise a pile of firewood was neatly stacked near a ring of stone benches.

Liam rushed ahead and snatched up an armload of wood.

"Easy now," Mica said. "The king might take offense if you steal his wood."

Liam looked around, but the beach was bare. "Well the king's not here to ask is he? Maybe he won't miss one or two logs." He stacked a couple logs on the ashes from an old fire.

"In for a copper, in for a crown I guess," Mica said and headed back up the path.

By the time Liam had the logs arranged, Mica was back with a smoldering branch. Soon a merry little fire crackled on the beach. Light from the flames pushed back the darkness except for a shadow near the water.

"Oy, what's this?" Mica said as he walked down to the shore.

Pulled up on the beach was a flat bottom boat, complete with oars and a small coil of robe.

"You wouldn't think the king would use a boat this small," Mica said.

"Must have had to bring it through the door. Let's try it out. I've never been in a boat before." Three Oaks Dale was a long way from any lakes. He'd seen the small canoes they used on the river, but the only boats Liam had ever seen were in books.

Before Mica could answer, the sound of honking geese and a nearby splash drew their attention to the lake. The noise grew into a clamor as the six white geese pulled the little boat on shore. Just like before, it sprouted wheels and rolled up the beach stopping near the fire.

Miraz stood up in the wagon and removed his ever present pipe from his mouth. With a swing of his arm he spewed embers in a fiery arc and called out, "A merry greeting to you on this splendid evening."

A grumble like the sound of stones crushing erupted from the pipe. "Waste of a good evening. What could they have to trade?"

"Gather round boys. Pay no attention to Griswald. He's such a hot head. It's a rare treat and true delight to see you again. Is this a meeting of comrades or a fine mixture of business and pleasure?"

"It's pleasure for me," said Liam, "but Mica may be looking to make a trade."

The little man popped the pipe back into his mouth. Gripping the lapels of his jacket, he leaped from the wagon and landed with a thump in the sand. His eyes sparkled and a big grin flashed across his face. He pointed the pipe at Mica, yellow smoke cascading from the bowl.

"Show me first your wares," Griswald rumbled. His heavy brows furrowed, shading his glowing eyes.

Miraz laughed. "Not too hasty my grumpy companion. Trading is like an intricate dance. We don't want to rush our steps."

With that he turned back to his wagon and unharnessed the geese. "Don't stray far my beauties," he said to them as they waddled back down to the lake and lowered their feathery bodies into the water like old ladies settling into bed.

Miraz pointed to the wagon where six iron rings swung from a chain. "Much easier to keep track of my flock thanks to your talents." He then turned to Mica. "Now then. If memory serves, when last we met there was some discussion of... rare herbs?" He paused and studied Mica's pack with a knowing eye. With a wink he said, "Perhaps you have been successful?" Popping the pipe into his mouth he rubbed his hands together. "Would you care to reveal what you've found?"

Mica opened his pack and began carefully laying plants on the stone bench, careful not to bruise the leaves or scatter the seeds.

Miraz walked up to survey the herbs, but his nose was level with the bench. The boys exchanged awkward glances. Liam didn't know if he should offer to lift Miraz up on the bench or if they should move the herbs to the sand.

Before he could make a suggestion, Miraz neatly solved the problem. Clenching the pipe in his teeth, he hitched up the cuffs of his short pants until his boney knees showed above his brightly striped socks. With a startling leap, he catapulted into the air twisting through a somersault. He landed lightly on the edge of the bench, finishing with a flourish of his hands.

With an experienced eye he stepped carefully around the herbs. Pulling a petal, crushing a leaf, tasting and smelling, he examined each one. "Well done," he said. "A good selection and you've done a reasonable job of preserving them. I can use them all." He fixed Mica with a mischievous grin. "Would you prefer coin, or should we barter?"

"I've not much use for coin," Mica said.

"Wonderful! I have much to offer. Where shall we begin?"

Mica stammered something under his breath.

Miraz leaned forward, cocking his head and placing a large hand behind his ear. "My pardon young sir, I didn't quite hear."

"Something pretty," Mica said a little louder.

Miraz stroked his chin and furrowed his brow in thought. "Pretty?" he said.

"Perhaps a gift for an elf maid," Liam offered.

Miraz's face brightened and he winked at Mica. "Ah," he said. "I understand. Let's see what we can find for your special elf." He bounded over to the wagon and began rummaging through its many compartments.

Miraz held up a necklace. "No, no," grumbled Griswald. "Not that one. He said an elf princess."

"Yes, yes, you're right. This one lacks flash." Digging further into the compartment his head completely disappeared. He burrowed deeper into the wagon until only the tips of his toes were touching the ground. With a muffled grunt he exclaimed, "Here it is." With a wiggle and squirm he popped out of the wagon flourishing another necklace.

Turning, he draped it across his forearm. With a wave of his fingers he drew their attention. "Now this," he exclaimed extending his arm, "is a princely gift."

Mica leaned forward.

"Made from the finest Lorinthian jade. Notice how the dark green shimmers and how the inset fire coral flickers even in moonlight." Placing his fingers on the pendant he gently opened it. A wild spicy fragrance rose up filling Liam's senses with visions of tropical islands and sun warmed beaches.

Mica threw his head back with a jerk. "Pretty, but not for Willow. She needs no such snare. This would only mock her charm."

Miraz raised his eyebrows. "More the beauty of nature than the glitter of the court?"

Mica nodded.

Miraz returned the necklace back to the wagon. Placing the pipe back in his mouth he paced back and forth. Plumes of smoke surrounded him. Liam could hear Miraz muttering to the pipe as he pondered his choices.

"Something softer," Griswald growled.

Miraz snapped his fingers. "I've just the thing." Laying the pipe on the wagon seat, he skipped around to the backside of the wagon.

Liam looked questioningly at Mica. His friend just raised his hands and shrugged.

In a minute Miraz was back balancing a basket in his arms. Weaving back and forth from the load he made his way up to them and set the basket down. It was woven from soft river reeds and lined with pink satin.

"Behold. A gift from the water nymphs of the Golden Falls." More gentle than his big hands would suggest possible, he folded back the pink satin.

The two boys leaned forward and peered into the basket. Inside, shimmered a pool of deep blue.

Liam turned to Mica. "A basket of water?"

Mica gave Miraz a questioning look. The little man's face broke into a big grin. He dipped the fingers of both hands into the basket. Slowly he raised his hands. A river of blue flowed from his hands back into the basket.

Mica's voice was soft with wonder. "It's cloth."

Liam looked closer at the glistening blue that seemed to pour from Miraz's fingers and gasped. "It is cloth."

Miraz's laughter rang out. "Indeed. But cloth is too harsh a word for such a delicate weave. Only a water nymph has the skill to spin such as this."

Slowly he pulled the fabric past his fingers. It rippled through his hands like river water tumbling over stones, bubbling and churning at each fold and crease.

Mica stretched out a hand toward the cloth.

"You may touch it of course. But its beauty is easily bruised."

Mica sighed and dropped his hand. "It is beautiful, but would not serve Willow well in the wood."

Liam cleared his throat. "Would you have anything like the shells you traded me?"

Miraz tucked the cloth back into the basket and covered it. "Shells, you say. Hmmm." Carrying the basket he staggered back around the wagon. In a moment he returned. Still muttering he picked up the pipe. "What do I have like shells?" Clamping the pipe in his teeth he puffed vigorously.

Thick yellow smoke billowed out of the pipe in long streams like flowing hair. Its eyes glowed and its nose twitched as it woke up. "Elves have little use for shells, but they are fond of all things ancient," he growled.

Liam watched in amazement as the cheeks on the pipe first expanded and then expelled a puff of smoke. The smoke hovered in the air forming a wide hazy ring.

Miraz took the pipe from his mouth and stretched up on his toes to examine the ring. "Right you are old friend. Excellent choice."

Spinning on his heel he darted back to the wagon, flung open the doors and disappeared inside.

Liam looked at Mica. "What?..."

Mica bent forward and slipped his hand through the fading ring of smoke and shrugged.

With a bang the wagon doors burst open. Miraz tumbled out dragging a silver box. He dropped it on the ground at his feet. Jumping back with a short hop, he whisked off his hat and flourished it over the box.

"Step closer, and behold a wonder from the depths of time."

The boys' curiosity drew them in. A pattern was inlaid into the lid, but tarnish and scratches now marred the design. Liam looked closer and could see that it was a crest. A single rose entwined a two handed sword. The workmanship was intricate, but he feared it was too worn to be a suitable gift.

Miraz touched a hidden latch and the cover slowly lifted. The interior had been carved from a single piece of ebony. Two short posts rose from the floor of the box, each encircled by a silver bracelet.

Miraz reached in with both hands and lifted one of the bracelets. Offering it to Mica he winked at Liam and said, "Not a shell, but similar."

Mica took the bracelet from Miraz, glancing sideways at Liam and rolled his eyes. Liam grinned back at him. Leaning over his shoulder he pretended to look at the bracelet. "Maybe it has hidden qualities."

"Really hidden," Mica answered with a frown.

"How perceptive, young masters," Miraz said bowing with a sweep of his hat. "Few have grasped its illusive secrets so quickly."

Mica held up the bracelet for Liam to examine.

Liam shrugged. "They are hard to see," he said scratching his head. Streaks of tarnish marred the surface. The wide silver bracelet was unadorned except for a raised oval in the center engraved with the same rose as in the crest.

Mica rubbed his thumb over the rose. With a soft click the oval slid back disappearing into the bracelet revealing a small mirror.

"Eh, what's this?" Mica said peering into the mirror. He rotated it back and forth trying to catch the light. "Odd. It's bright...but there's no reflection."

Chuckling Miraz pulled out the second bracelet. Although it was larger, it was just as tarnished. Still chuckling to himself he handed it to Liam.

Liam turned to Mica and said, "This one is engraved with the sword." He brushed his thumb over the sword and the oval swept back into the bracelet. "This one works. But, hey! It's reflecting you instead of me." He looked at Mica in confusion.

Mica laughed out loud and turned his bracelet toward Liam. "Now you're reflected in both of them."

Miraz clapped his hands and spun around in a small circle kicking up his heels.

"They're linked," Liam said starting to laugh. "The mirrors are linked and the apprentice was the last to understand."

"The sword for you and the rose for your lady fair," Miraz said. "The link is strong and will serve as a bridge when you're far from your lady."

Mica looked thoughtful and nodded. "Still a bit tarnished for a gift."

"Ah, the tarnish." He stroked his chin. "These bracelets have a history. Their story is not mine to tell. But the tale can be seen written in the small scuffs and concealed within the tarnish."

"I can see they're old," Mica said. He sat cross-legged in front of the little man so they were eye to eye. "That should make them less dear."

"Old? I should say they are. Some might say ancient. A legacy from ages past."

Liam smiled as he watched them barter. It took the two of them a while, but an agreement was struck. In celebration, Miraz again brought out the thimble sized glasses. After the bargain was toasted, the little man retrieved his pipe and threw a salute to the boys.

"A merchant must rise early. I must leave your cheery little fire and head home to bed." Still holding the pipe he walked back to his wagon and gave a shrill whistle. A cacophony of honking erupted from the lake. The geese left the water and waddled up the bank complaining amongst themselves like a group of old ladies. He quickly harnessed them to the wagon.

With one long last look at the fire he said, "Always liked a cheery little fire. Not like that bonfire they built on the other side of the lake." He leapt onto the wagon and whistled to his geese. They trotted down the bank picking up speed. With whistles, honking, and flapping of wings, the geese and wagon rose into the air and soared away over the lake.

The boys sat by the fire in silence. The night seemed darker without Miraz. Mica turned to Liam. "I wonder if that oversized door I found on the other side of the lake has anything to do with the oversized fire."

Liam sat up straighter his thoughts whirling as he thought about the boat. Trying to sound nonchalant he said, "You know, we could borrow the king's boat and find out."

"If you don't use that head of yours, the king may remove it and you won't have a place to put your hat."

Liam cocked his head to the side. "We've already borrowed his wood. In for a copper, in for a crown?"

Mica gave a shrug but didn't look convinced. Liam took that for yes, and dashed down to the water. He stepped over the transom of the boat. It rocked and swayed as he wobbled his way to the middle. His foot slipped and he sat down hard sending ripples splashing on the shore.

"Careful how you sit hero. Leave some water in the lake." He slid the box with the bracelets under a bush. "These will be safer here on shore." He untied the boat and pushed off, nimbly springing into the back. The boat slipped quietly onto the lake. He pointed. "We'll get there a lot faster if you use the oars."

With much splashing and banging Liam managed to get the oars into the water. At first he just paddled in circles, but with Mica giving amused advice, Liam finally got the hang of it. Rowing started out as fun, but by the time he got to the middle of the lake his arms were feeling the strain. A light breeze pushed against the bow. It cooled the back of his neck but made it harder to row.

"No need for you to do all the work hero," Mica said. "Time for me to take a turn."

Liam didn't want to admit it, but he was more than happy to turn over the oars. Mica managed to keep the boat steady while they changed places.

Liam stretched his sore muscles and leaned back. Looking up he watched the clouds scuttle across the sky, hiding the moon and erasing the moonlight from the water. Darkness closed over them and dampness settled onto the boat.

With Mica rowing, the only sound was a soft muffled swish as he dipped the oars in the water. The quiet was so complete they instinctively lowered their voices. "Don't fall asleep." Mica said. "Keep an eye out for the shore."

Liam sat up straighter and strained his eyes searching the darkness for a hint of the shoreline. He would never admit it, but the dark water made him uneasy. A shiver ran up his spine and he was glad the darkness hid it from Mica.

Ahead and slightly to the left he saw a faint glow. He watched it for a couple minutes as it brightened. "I think I see the fire."

Mica glanced over his shoulder and made a slight correction. The bow swung around to align with the fire. Lowering his voice to a bare whisper he said, "Sound travels over the water. Try not to announce our arrival."

Liam sat quietly as Mica maneuvered the boat. With a gentle scrape it slipped onto the shore. With only a faint bump, he set the oars inside the boat. Ahead of them was a long steep grassy bank. At the crest an immense log fire filled the air with flames and sparks. Drum beats echoed from the top of the hill. Mica was just a shadow as he slipped over the bow onto the shore. Liam was not as graceful, but he managed to get out without much noise.

Mica wrapped the bow line around a tree root. Motioning for Liam to follow, he climbed up the bank. With heart hammering Liam scrambled up after him wondering what they would find. Visions flashed through his mind of the king having a feast, or a merry group of elves celebrating the full moon. A fire that big had to be something festive.

As he topped the hill, Mica grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him down behind a large fallen tree. His shoulder scraped across the rough bark and he landed on a root. An angry response formed in his mind, but one glimpse of Mica's face and the protest died in his throat.

Carefully he raised his head and peered over the log. Cold fear gripped him by the throat. It wasn't a party of elves. Far from it. Trolls stomped around in a loose circle, roughly slamming each other about while a smaller troll beat an empty cask like a drum.

They drank from crude wooden bowls, pouring the liquid past their curved yellow tusks into their mouths and spilling it down their great hairy chests. Roars of laugher erupted whenever one lost their footing and was knocked to the ground amid jeers and kicks.

The wind shifted carrying the acrid smell of sour mash mixed with the sulfury stench of trolls. Liam's stomach lurched. Mica touched his shoulder and pointed to the left. To his horror, Liam saw a group of goblins perched on rocks and stumps. A few slumped on the ground while others pointed and laughed at the trolls.

"Even drunk the nasty little beasts are smart enough keep their distance from the trolls when they're dancing," Mica said.

Liam ducked back down behind the log. "I've seen more than enough. We need to get out of here."

Mica nodded.

Liam started to crawl back the way he came. A donkey brayed. He could hear the terror in the animal's cry. Mica pulled him back. Together they looked over the log.

On the other side of the fire, figures moved around a cart. Liam couldn't see any features but they were too small to be trolls and stood too straight and tall to be goblins. They had to be men.

From behind the cart came four goblins tugging on a donkey's lead rope. Two others pushed and swatted at its flanks with switches. The goblins were winning, but the little donkey let fly with its back hooves sending one of the goblins tumbling. The others peeled with laugher and continued to drag the donkey around the fire.

Liam realized they were coming straight toward their hiding place. He jerked Mica down. They could hear the goblins cursing at each other and the animal.

"You're a worthless piece of meat," slurred one.

"I'll be gnawing on your hooves in another hour."

"Let's slit its throat and be done with it."

"Not with that sword, ya gob. It'll poison the meat. Tie him to the tree. We'll roast him later."

The donkey's braying sounded like it was right on top of them. Liam pushed himself tighter to the log wishing he could disappear. Just the other side of the log the goblins struggled with the poor animal. The donkey's stomping and braying continued to mix with the goblin's yowling and swearing. Eventually the drunken pack managed to tie the donkey to the tree. The muttering and cursing died down as the goblins stumbled back to the fire.

When the boys peeked over the log they could see the donkey tied at the edge of the clearing. It had put up a good fight, but now it stood trembling with head down.

"Did you see the men by the cart?" Liam asked. "Trolls, goblins, and men? What could it mean?"

"And magic weapons," Mica said. "Maybe the weapons came in the cart."

"What kind of man would give magic weapons to goblins and trolls?"

"Same kind of slime that would feed them donkeys and sour ale."

"Right. Let's get out of here while we still can."

"You get the boat ready. I'll join you in a minute. This is one donkey those drunken little swine aren't going to eat."

Before Liam could stop him, Mica slipped over the log and into the shadows. Liam knew he should go to the boat but he couldn't turn away. Mica was somewhere in the darkness, but he couldn't see any hint of where. Then he saw the donkey's rope move. The animal shied and jerked its head, dragging Mica into the light.

From across the fire came a shout. A tall black robed figure gestured from the wagon. "Stop that intruder," he bellowed.

Fear and anger surged through Liam as he recognized the black wizard who had attacked his master in the spell room. Jumping up, Liam yelled, "Run, Mica!"

In muddled confusion, several of the drunken goblins turned their heads toward him. The drum continued. The trolls still danced. Mica clung to the terrified donkey's rope trying to lead it to safety. Liam was frantic. "Mica! Get out of there!"

The black wizard shouted, "To your feet you drunken fools. They have seen your weapons. They must be killed."

A goblin howled and jumped to his feet. Mica grabbed the donkey's halter and turned its head toward the woods. He whooped and slapped it hard on the rump. The goblin threw his wooden bowl at Mica grazing his head. The donkey bolted dragging Mica in to the woods.

Liam crashed through the woods after them. He reached them just as Mica managed to let go of the halter and slump to the ground. Liam grabbed his arm, threw it around his shoulder, and dragged him to his feet.

"Mica! Come on. We have to get to the boat."

Together they stumbled down the hill to the water, Liam half carrying Mica. He dropped him into the boat, and tugged the rope loose. The water lapped at his knees as he gave the boat a shove and waded in after it. He jumped over the transom and flopped on the seat. Frantically he grabbed the oars and pulled with all his might. The howls of rage from the woods were terrifying. He floundered with the oars trying to put distance between the boat and the shore.

In the front of the boat, Mica groaned. "Easy hero, just relax and pull steady. If we don't make any noise, they won't know to look on the lake."

Liam took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate on each stroke. The oars slipped smoothly through the water. The sounds from the shore faded as they slid quietly across the dark lake.

Once they were far enough away that Liam could no longer see the fire, he stopped rowing to check on Mica. The older boy slumped in the front of the boat. Liam gently shook his shoulder, but there was no response. He touched his head. His fingers came away sticky and wet. Without a light, Liam couldn't tell how bad the wound was. Sick with doubt and worry, he went back to rowing. He had to get Mica help.

Minutes seemed like hours before Liam spotted a dim spark of light. His arms felt like lead. Sharp pains radiated from his neck every time he glanced over his shoulder, but he had to keep the boat's bow in line with the fire.

Slowly the shoreline began to take shape giving him new strength. Liam leaned into the oars and the boat picked up speed. The water got shallow quicker than he expected. His left oar hit the bottom and was jerked from his grasp. The boat skewed sideways, running up on the shore with loud scraping. It jolted to a sharp stop. Liam grabbed the gunnel to keep from being thrown out.

Mica groaned. "That's going to leave a mark on the king's boat."

Mica's voice sounded so good to Liam that he didn't mind the sarcasm. Liam was smiling as he rolled out of the boat onto the shore. Struggling to keep his footing in the wet grass, he grabbed the gunnel with both hands and heaved. The boat lurched up and his feet flew out from under him. With a splash he landed half in the wet grass and half in the water.

Mica managed to sit up. Holding his head with one hand he gripped the side of the boat and looked down at Liam. "Good thing you're apprenticed to the Doormaster. Your sailor skills need more work." He crawled out of the boat holding his head. He looked back at Liam. "Come on hero. Get up. Let's go home."

Liam splashed out of the water and secured the boat. He looked down at the mess he had made of the knot. Mica was right he thought, as he wiped his hands on his robe. The sailor's guild will have to do without me.

He hurried back to the fire. It was mostly coals, but he stirred it back to life. Looking around for Mica, he saw him on his knees fumbling under the bush.

"Let me help you with that," Liam said, pulling the bracelet box out of hiding. Tucking the box under one arm he led Mica back to the fire. "Come over here and let's see how bad you're hurt."

Reluctantly Mica sat down and let Liam examine the wound. Above his left eyebrow near the hairline was a jagged cut. "The bleeding has stopped but you look a mess. Should I try to bandage it?"

"With what? No, I think I've had enough adventure. Let's go home."

Liam half heartedly kicked some dirt over the fire with his wet boot. Tucking the box under his arm he followed Mica back to the door. His soggy boots squished with every step.

The trip back was long but uneventful. The boys slipped through the castle without alerting the sleepy guards. They made it through the bakery before Drindle got up to start his baking. The hardest part was stumbling through the gloomy potion room. By the time they reached the old worn out door, both boys were exhausted.

Quietly they slipped into Liam's room. There Liam washed the wound and wrapped it in a clean bandage. It didn't take much argument to convince Mica to lie down on the bed. Liam made himself a place on the rug. The last thing he saw as he blew out the candle was Mica pulling the bracelet box tight against his chest.

### Chapter 9

It was long after sunrise when the boys awoke to a banging on the door.

"Ho, you lazy bones. The sun is up and so should you be. Breakfast and the master waits you down the stair."

There was more thumping on the door. Liam rolled over with a loud groan.

"The master has news," Hodekin called as he clattered down the hall.

Mica sat up holding his head. "Is it always this noisy around here in the morning?"

Liam struggled to his feet. "Might as well go down or he'll be back. And believe me he gets even louder."

The boys splashed a little water on their faces. Liam wanted to check Mica's bandage but all he got was a growl. "You did a good job last night, now let it heal."

Liam was still a little worried, but he decided it could wait. Together they headed down to breakfast.

Liam gingerly picked his way down the stairs, his sore muscles complaining with every step.

"I had no idea it took so many muscles to row a boat," he grumbled.

He heard Mica chuckle behind him. Liam glanced back. Mica had the bracelet box tucked securely under one arm. Except for the bandage on his head, the older boy didn't look much the worse for wear.

Liam straightened his back and forced his complaining muscles to walk normally. "Sleeping on the floor probably didn't help much either."

Mica grinned back. "Your bed was real comfortable."

Laughing they entered the kitchen. The smile fled from Mica's face and he slid the box behind his back. There at the table across from the Doormaster sat Willow.

She rose to her feet. "Mica. You're hurt," she said, her voice heavy with concern.

The Doormaster looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened. "What happened?"

Willow quickly crossed the room to examine his head. Mica shuffled sideways trying to keep the box out of her sight.

"Hold still and let me see," she said. Her fingers brushed against the bandage and Mica ducked his head. "Ouch!"

"Is it a deep wound? Are you hurt badly?"

"It's not too bad," Liam said. "A goblin just tried to share his drink with him."

Willow suspiciously raised an eyebrow. "Goblins are dangerous! What have you two been up to?"

Mica shot Liam a warning look.

The Doormaster crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, do tell. We'd all be interested in hearing more about these goblins."

Liam looked up at Mica. The older boy shrugged. "You've stuck your foot squarely in it now."

Liam nodded. "We couldn't keep the trolls and the wizard a secret anyway."

Willow's dark eyes flashed. "Did you think I was not to be trusted with your secret? Or maybe you thought I would be a burden on your adventure?"

Liam could see the hurt on Mica's face as he struggled to find an answer.

Hodekin jumped down from the counter, his boot heels clacking on the floor. Leaning sideways he tried to see behind Mica. "There appears to be even more secrets behind your back."

Mica sighed and brought out the box. He held it out to Willow. "I was hoping for a grander moment..."

Willow looked down at the box. "What is this?"

Mica pushed it towards her, his face turning scarlet. "It wasn't meant to be an adventure. I just wanted to get you something special."

Gingerly she took the box from Mica's hand. She slowly ran her fingers over the inlaid design. "This is very old," she said. "I have seen these symbols before but never together. It is elven made." She looked up. "Where did you find it?"

"I bought it from a strange little merchant. Open it."

Her fingers found the hidden latch and the lid slowly opened. Hodekin and the Doormaster leaned forward.

Hodekin said, "Rather fancy box for plain silver bracelets."

The Doormaster patted him on the shoulder. "Let's not be too hasty my little kobold. Elves are a clever race and not always quick to share their secrets."

Willow glanced around at their faces. Then she reached in and lifted out the smaller bracelet. Turning it over slowly in her hand, she examined the engraved rose on the oval. Questioningly she looked at Mica.

He took the box and handed it to Liam. With a smile Mica removed the heavier bracelet. Turning the oval towards Willow he triggered the catch. The cover slid back revealing the mirror. His smile grew even larger. He nodded toward her bracelet and winked. She found the catch on her bracelet and the cover slid back noiselessly.

Liam watched Willow's eyes widen with delight as she discovered the bracelet's secret. Slipping it on her wrist she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Secret adventures will be more difficult now," she said softly.

Mica put on the other bracelet. "Might work both ways."

The Doormaster cleared his throat. "Now let's hear about the trolls and goblins and the wizard."

"Can't it wait 'till after breakfast?" Hodekin whined. "I'm starving."

After breakfast the boys told about their trip to the lake. When they finished, the Doormaster leaned back and stroked his beard. "Tell me about this door."

"Sorry sir, I couldn't see much in the dark. Just a lot of dancing trolls and drunken goblins" said Liam. "Mica might have had a closer look the first time he saw it though."

"The first time?" asked the Doormaster. He leaned forward to peer at Liam over his spectacles. "I don't recall you mentioning anything about a door in the woods before."

Liam swallowed hard. How could he have forgotten to tell his master about the door? "I'm sorry sir." His eyes were drawn to his boots. "With the fighting and the dryads and the castle and Drindle and Belinda and..."

"Yes, yes." The Doormaster smiled and made a smoothing motion with his hand. "I can see how current events might have pushed it from your mind." He turned to Mica. "But now that it has become more important, perhaps a more complete accounting is in order."

Mica scrubbed his hand across his chin and collected his thoughts. "Not a lot to tell really. The door is big, maybe 30 hands high. I didn't get too close, but it was made from a light colored wood. No fancy carvings or bright hinges, but it was put together well. The only thing sloppy was the way it was hung. It was more or less wedged between two trees. I didn't think too much of it at the time, but it makes sense now. Either the trolls or the goblins must be dragging the thing around the woods and setting it up wherever they feel like making trouble."

Mica finished and the Doormaster sat in deep thought.

After a moment Liam cleared his throat and his master looked up. "Oh, sorry," he said. His voice sounded low and far away. Blinking rapidly he looked around as if trying to remember where he was. "I was lost in an old thought. It's strange how past events come sneaking back into our lives."

Liam looked at his master expecting him to continue but the Doormaster stood and shook himself into action. "We must get word to the king immediately," he said. "Wouldn't do for him to have uninvited guests at his next picnic." He turned to Liam. "Don't you have a friend at the castle? Maybe you could use those clever shells of yours and she could pass the message on to the king."

Liam nodded. "I'll talk to her as soon as I can."

Willow said, "If goblins and trolls are gathering in the woods, it would interest my king greatly. I must leave immediately."

Mica stood up and had to grab the chair quickly to steady himself. "I'll go with you."

Willow's eyes softened. "Speed is urgent. If I take the paths known only by the elves, I can move quickly and safely."

Mica's face was pale. He looked down at his boots. "You think me a burden."

"Only those empowered by the king are allowed to travel the secret ways." She laid her hand on his arm. "When the evening star rises, I'll use your gift."

The Doormaster cleared his throat. "It's settled then. Liam will alert the castle. Willow will journey to her king. And as for Mica and I, rest will do our bodies good and prepare us for what is to come."

Liam climbed the stairs to his room. Stepping over the blankets he picked up the shell from the windowsill. He whistled softly and waited. When Belinda didn't answer he tried again. Growing bored he looked around and realized the room was a mess. Absently he began straightening up. Periodically he would whistle softly.

He was folding the last blanket when he was surprised by Belinda's cheerful voice. "Good morning, Liam. How nice to hear from you so early."

The sound of her voice made him smile. He tossed the half folded blanket on the chair and flopped on the bed.

For several minutes he just listened as she filled him in on her morning. He never got tired of hearing her voice. Then she paused. "It's not like you to call before noon."

"Well, I do have important news." Liam then filled her in on how they met Miraz and went to investigate the fire across the lake. As he retold the adventure he warmed to his subject. Like any young hero he brushed over the hardships of the adventure. He didn't say much about his inexperience with boats or the long row across the lake. He hardly mentioned how scary it was being that close to a pack of goblins and a full tribe of trolls. Instead he focused on Mica rescuing the donkey and their narrow escape from the black wizard in the king's boat. When he finished he waited expectantly for her response. He didn't have to wait long.

"Liam! You could have been killed, and Mica was badly wounded."

Her response was not what Liam expected. He opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't give him a chance.

"That was wonderfully brave but terribly foolish. Trolls and goblins are incredibly dangerous. And a black wizard to lead them!"

"I don't know what they are up to, but the Doormaster thinks you should alert the king about trouble near his new door."

"But I can't. The king is on a hunting trip with his cousin near the Peat Bog. He's not expected back for a fortnight."

"But there must be someone we can tell. The next travelers may not be so lucky. And someone should discover what the trolls and goblins are doing and why they have a magic door."

The shell got quiet while Belinda thought. "I will go to Alabaster. The king's wizard will know how to deal with this threat."

Liam blanched, "But then he will know we used the king's door and his boat."

"Well..." Belinda said, "you might have a point. The wizard can be a stickler for rules sometimes." She thought for a while. "Perhaps if Fidrych knew what to look for, his birds could find it. I will talk to him right away. Either way Alabaster must know about this before sundown."

* * * * *

By the end of the week the Doormaster's limp was barely noticeable. Mica recovered from his knock on the head. He took to pacing the rooms like a caged animal. His fingers constantly stroked the bracelet, releasing the catch. He spent long moments peering into the mirror.

The Doormaster walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Patience, lad. She strikes me as quite capable. She'll have no trouble making her way back."

Closing the mirror, Mica looked up at the Doormaster with a weak smile. He still fingered the bracelet but resisted opening it.

"When next you see her," The Doormaster said, "show her this." He handed him a folded parchment bearing the purple wax seal of the king.

Liam looked over Mica's shoulder as he opened it. His eyes widened in surprise. "Sir, you've been invited to celebrate the king's birthday at the castle."

"Not just me, lad. The invitation is for me and my retainers." His eyes twinkled. "Which I think could include you and Willow. If you think she could be persuaded."

Mica sadly handed the invitation back. "My wardrobe is not up to a king's ball."

The Doormaster stroked his beard and peered over his rose tinted glasses. "It seems to me that Hoby the Tailor owes me a favor or two. Why don't the two of you pay a visit to his shop?"

Mica started to object, but the Doormaster dismissed his protests with a wave. "It's just a token gesture of my thanks for your intervention in the spell room. Hoby will be happy to clear his debt with me, and I've no need for yet another robe."

Hodekin jumped up from his chair. "Now that's settled. You're all heading off to your king's party." He rubbed his hands together. "That will leave me to mind the house?"

The Doormaster laughed out loud. "Are you sure we can't persuade you to join us?"

Hodekin stood up straight and with one finger cocked his hat to the side. "I'll go if I must, but your king's party sounds a little stiff for my liking. Too much pomp and posturing. Too little song and not enough good drink."

"Well my friend, I'm sure you'll find something to amuse yourself with while we're away. Just try to keep your friends from burning the place down."

A grin spread across his face. "I'll try not to break anything expensive."

As soon as he could get away, Liam slipped off to his room and whistled in the shell for Belinda. When she answered, he told her about the invitation.

"That's wonderful," she said. "I knew the Doormaster was invited but I didn't want to spoil the surprise. I was so hoping you would be able to come."

"The Doormaster invited Mica and Willow. I'm sure they will come too."

"How perfectly wonderful. That will make it complete. I can't wait for our first dance."

Suddenly Liam felt queasy. "Dance?" His voice quavered.

She didn't seem to notice. "Oops, Princess Jenna is calling. We'll talk later."

Liam placed the shell on the windowsill. Dance, he thought. What have I gotten into?

* * * * *

The next week was too busy for Liam to worry about goblins or dancing. He looked for the next project on the Doormaster's list and sighed. It seemed endless. Not another set of rings. He tossed the list on the table and looked around the room. The baskets for Farmer Tomkin's wife caught his eye. He had linked them a week ago. A trip to the farm would get him out of the spell room and the fresh air would be a nice change.

An hour later he was headed back home. It had been a good idea to deliver the baskets. The farmer's wife was delighted and showed it by insisting he stay for a large helping of peach cobbler with fresh cream.

The late summer sun was warm on his back as he walked beside the pasture where Farmer Tomkin kept his horses. A squirrel on a nearby branch chattered at him. He stopped to lean on a tree and watch as two colts frolicked in the tall grass.

"You two have the right idea," he said to the colts. He relaxed his heels and slid down the tree to settle in a comfortable spot between the roots. "This is too nice a day to be working."

He laid his head back against the tree. Closing his eyes he let the sun warm his face. It was a perfect day. Lazy minutes passed filled with pleasant memories of playing in his father's vineyard.

A familiar voice jerked him back to reality. "You look pretty comfortable. Mind if we join you?"

Liam jumped to his feet. "Willow! You're back. And Mica too."

Mica laughed. "Lucky for you hero, we're not goblins."

He shot Mica a look. Then a troubling thought crossed his mind. Turning back to Willow he said, "Did you run into trouble with goblins?"

She smiled and said, "No, the secret paths are too well traveled by the elves. But I do bring news. My people are narrowing the search for the source of the poison."

Liam anxiously looked from one to the other. "They don't know what it is?"

"It seems to be a secretion of some type, but not an exact match to any animal known to the elves."

"What kind of animal would be unknown to the elves?" Liam asked.

"I'm not certain. But I'm confident they will soon uncover the source. My king believes there may be a connection to the door you discovered at the lake."

"Your king can't expect you to go poking around there by yourself. There could be trolls or goblins lurking behind every rock."

Mica snorted. "Of course not. We're going with her. So let's go get your sword, hero. Besides, we need to report to the Doormaster."

When the Doormaster heard Willow's news, he agreed they should use the doors to get to the lake. The three companions quickly gathered their provisions and met at the potion room door. The afternoon was slipping away and no one wanted to be sharing the dark woods with goblins and trolls.

Liam fumbled with the gold key. His palms were sweating and his hand slipped on the doorknob as he opened the door.

Willow and Mica ducked through the door and waited while Liam turned the key in the lock. He squeezed past them in the narrow aisle. Willow stepped closer to Mica, her eyes scanning the overhanging shelves. His feet kicked up dust that drifted eerily in the room's soft glow.

"After you, hero." Mica's voice sounded out of place, like a sneeze in church.

Liam led the way turning first left and then right, following the path to Drindle's Bakery.

Willow stepped forward and placed her hand on Liam's shoulder. Her voice just above a whisper, she said, "We're being watched."

He nodded. "I feel it too, but I've never seen anyone."

"They are just shadows flickering among the shelves," she said. "I can't make out their forms."

They continued down the aisle. Mica and Willow continuously scanned the shelves, but Liam was more concerned with finding the red and yellow urn. They should have come to that intersection by now. Could the tommyknockers have moved it?

He continued to move forward, stopping at every intersection and peering down the dimly lit aisles.

Finally, Mica noticed. "Tell me we're just taking a different route and we're not lost."

"I was sure this was the way," Liam said, "but sometimes the paths change here."

"This dust and gloom is nothing like my woods, but when I find myself confused, I try retracing my steps."

Mica looked down at the floor. "That shouldn't be hard with all this dust."

Now Mica took the lead with Willow following. The footprints lead twisting and turning. Liam was watching the floor and bumped into Willow's back when she stopped abruptly.

Liam looked up and saw they were standing at a dead end. Large cluttered shelves closed them in on three sides. "What happened?" he said. "Did we lose the trail?"

"No..." Mica said.

Willow pointed to the floor where the prints disappeared under the shelf. "We seem to have walked through this wall."

While Mica and Willow searched the shelves for an answer, Liam wandered back down the aisle to the last intersection. The dust on the floor was a mass of overlapping prints. He stood in the center of the aisle looking first left then right. Studying the floor he saw a faint outline of an old boot print. Kneeling down he saw several more leading down the left hand aisle.

He heard footsteps behind him. Mica said, "On your knees looking for divine guidance?"

"Well, I hope he has better luck than we did. The trail back there ends at a solid wall of clutter."

Liam pointed to the boot prints. "We could follow these."

Willow looked closely. "Ah, the prints of the illusive shadows?"

"I believe so," Liam said.

"Now we're chasing shadows," Mica mumbled as he fell into line behind Willow.

After several minutes of following the prints they came to another intersection. To Liam's great relief, there sat the red and yellow urn steaming away on its three legged stone stool.

"Whew," Liam sighed under his breath. He smiled back at Willow. "I know the way from here."

Without more mishap he led the others to Drindle's door, and up the stairs and through the ill fitted door to the kitchen.

No fresh baked rolls awaited them this time. The kitchen sparkled. A bright copper kettle sat in the corner. Clean earthen bowls and baking tins hung neatly on the wall. Shining utensils lay in orderly rows on the shelf. A faint hint of heat radiated from the brick oven.

From the front of the shop they could hear Drindle's voice. "Enjoy your day Mrs. Mayfield."

They heard a lady's laugh. "I'm sure my family is going to love these wonderful cakes."

The bell jingled on the door as she left. Liam peeked through the curtain. Drindle had just picked up the broom to tidy up the shop.

Seeing there were no other customers, Liam pulled back the curtain. "Hello, Mr. Drindle," he said as he stepped into the shop.

The baker looked up from his sweeping. "Oh, Liam. And you brought your friends for a visit."

Liam felt a twinge of guilt. "Well, sir. Not... not exactly. We've come to ask if we can use your door to the castle."

Drindle nodded. "I see. Going to visit a certain young lady again?" With a start Liam realized that he hadn't even told Belinda they were coming. The baker rocked back on his heels and stroked his chin. "I seem to recall a night not too long ago when some coppers appeared on the worktable and a few sweets disappeared from my basket."

Mica coughed and gave Liam a guilty look.

Willow stepped forward in the awkward silence. "Actually sir," she said, "I'm the reason we need to go to the castle. I'm on an errand for my king."

"That sounds urgent," Drindle said.

Willow and Mica started telling about the goblins and trolls. Seeing it would take them a while to explain everything, Liam stepped outside. Hoping Belinda would answer, he slipped the shell over his ear and whistled softly.

She didn't answer. He whistled louder and waited, but no answer. He turned to the door to go back inside. His hand was on the knob when he heard her voice. "Liam? Liam? Are you there?"

"Belinda. Good to hear your voice. I thought you might not be wearing the shell."

"I wasn't. It was in my pocket. I wasn't sure I had really heard your whistle."

"I have news. We are headed to the castle now. Things have been happening so fast I didn't have a chance to call you. Will you be able to meet us by Drindle's door?"

"Oh dear. I wish that I could, but it's not possible. I'm meeting with the royal seamstress. She's fitting the princess for her first ball gown."

Liam heard the disappointment in her voice, and it matched his own. "Maybe it's for the best. The castle stop was really just a stepping stone. Willow is on a mission from her king. Mica and I are taking her to the lake to see the troll door."

"The troll door! Do you think that's safe?"

"That's why we couldn't let Willow go alone. It's still daylight. We should be okay." Liam paused. "I guess I won't see you until the ball then."

"Oh, there's the seamstress. Wait 'til you see my dress. I have to run, but I'm saving you the first dance."

Liam's shell went silent and he tucked it into his pocket with a sigh. What would Belinda say when she found out he couldn't dance?

He went back inside. Mica looked his way. "Well, hero. You 'bout ready?"

Drindle waved his long arm from behind the counter. "He's right. Move quickly now. It'll be dark before long. You kids need to be back here before dark." He led the way to the castle door. Taking the key down from its hook, he unlocked it.

He shooed them through. As Liam passed, Drindle said, "I'll leave the door unlocked. Hurry back. I'll be watching for your return."

Liam stepped into the long twisted corridor lined with doors. Most of the traders were done for the day. The few stragglers moved quickly through the corridor with their heads down. It was close to dinnertime and most were concerned only with returning home.

Willow looked around in wonder at the doors. "So many," she said. "And all so different." She crossed the hallway and ran her hand over the ornate carving. Birds and flowering vines twisted around elvish runes. "This might have been made by my clan."

He pointed to a large rough cut door with rusted hinges. "Elves didn't make them all," Mica said. "This one's more suited to a stable."

Liam laughed. "It could lead to a stable, but we need to keep moving. We want to get across the lake and back before dark."

He led them past doors of every shape, size, and description. Foot traffic picked up as they neared the central hub. They blended in with the last of the castle vendors.

Liam pulled Willow to the side. "This way," he said. "The first passage was the scales and then the archer."

No one noticed them as they turned down the passage marked with a ramping lion. The doors here were newer and showed less wear. Liam hurried along the corridor, turned the corner, and stopped abruptly.

Mica said, "Wrong turn, hero?"

"No," he said and pointed to a blank spot between two doors. "It's gone."

"How can you be sure?" Willow asked. "There are many doors. Perhaps one of the other passages?"

"This is the corridor of the lion." He pointed above where the door should have been. "Here is the plaque with the king's boat."

"Why would someone move the door and leave the plaque?" asked Willow.

"I don't know," Liam said. "This is very strange. They could have moved it to another corridor and it would still work. But why move it at all?"

"Why indeed?" asked Willow.

"What now?" Mica said. "We can't check every passage."

"Nothing for it but to retrace our steps," Willow said. "I'll have to find another way to the lake."

### Chapter 10

Liam led them back to the scales corridor and through the door to the bakery. True to his word, Drindle was still in the bakery kitchen. He looked up from the cakes he was decorating. The pastry cloth full of icing clenched in his hand dripped cherry icing on the counter.

"Forget something?" he asked.

Liam shook his head. "We couldn't find the door. It's been moved. Nothing there but an empty space."

Drindle moved fluidly to the next cake and drizzled a splash of icing across its top. "The nobles must have nothing better to do than shuffle the doors. Probably some court dandy is waiting to have his door moved closer to the hall. Must have been wearing holes in his fancy silk slippers."

"We'll just have to find another way to visit the lake," Liam said.

Drindle straightened up. Placing his fists on his lower back he stretched. "Ahhh..." he sighed as his bones cracked. "You can still make it back in time for dinner." He handed them the tray of cakes. "Take these with you. The one with the cherry icing is for Hodekin. And tell Ogden I'll be dropping by soon to pick up my tray."

* * * * *

It was dinnertime when they got home. They followed the spicy aroma of shepherd stew to the kitchen where Ogden sat reading at the table. Hodekin stood on a wooden stool next to a large copper kettle, the small knife in his hand flashing as thin carrot slices arced into the bubbling stew.

"Didn't take long for the trolls to chase you back home," Hodekin said, reaching for another carrot.

Mica leaned over the kettle and inhaled deeply. His eyes closed and a smile crossed his face. "The aroma of your stew called me back." He hooked the ladle up to steal a sample.

Hodekin stared Mica down with a frown. "Unless you want your fingers to flavor my stew, you'll keep them away from the kettle."

Mica watched the kobold's flashing knife make short work of the carrot. "Waiting will make it taste even better." He set the ladle down.

Liam set the cakes on the table. "Drindle sends his best. The cherry one is for you, Hodekin."

The little kobold peered past Willow's shoulder at the tray and a big smile spread across his face.

Ogden marked the place in his book. "So what did bring you back so soon?"

"Someone moved the lake door," Willow said. "There's nothing there but an empty spot."

Ogden frowned and stroked his beard. "Now why would anyone want to do that?"

"An excellent question," Willow said. "Perhaps I will learn the answer when I travel to the lake."

"What about the king's ball?" Ogden asked.

The only sound was the soft scraping of the wooden ladle against the copper pot as Hodekin stirred.

"You know, my dear lass," Ogden said, "it will take you several days to travel to the lake. The royal ball is in two days. If you were to wait and attend the ball with us, perhaps during the festivities we could discover where they have moved the door."

Willow grinned and turned to Mica. "It would be a shame to disappoint my companion. I did promise him the first dance."

Mica blushed.

Ogden clapped his hands together. "It's settled then."

* * * * *

Two days later Liam woke to the sound of a merry whistle accompanied by the tapping of Hodekin's boots down the hall. He rolled over and pulled the pillow tight against his head. All he wanted was a few more minutes of sleep, but the sound only grew louder. Soon Hodekin was banging on his door.

"Arise! Arise! The sun is in the sky. Much to do on party day. If you're late for the king's ball you needn't think you can join mine."

Liam turned over and groaned. It would be hours before the ball started, but ignoring Hodekin would only encourage the little kobold to be more annoying. He gave in to the inevitable and struggled out of bed.

Hodekin turned on his heel and skipped down the hall. "Breakfast is hot eggs and biscuits," he called back. "But they won't last long."

Liam groaned again, but he stumbled down to the kitchen. He'd hardly finished breakfast when Hodekin came into the room and snatched up the dishes. "You've been fed. On your way now." With that he started sweeping the floor with swift short strokes. Every step Liam took put him in the kobold's path. Seeing he was obviously in the way, Liam scooped up another biscuit and escaped out the door.

He headed down to the lake thinking he might find a shady spot to rest his eyes. When he got to his favorite spot, he found that Mica was already there.

"It's a mite early for you to be up," Mica said. "I thought heroes slept in."

Liam laughed and handed Mica half his biscuit. "Hodekin is in rare form this morning. I think maybe the king's ball will be tame compared to the frolic that Hodekin is planning."

Mica took a bite of the biscuit. "A lot less pomp and decorum I would venture."

He offered Liam a spare pole, but he shook his head. "I'm not much for fishing. Once you catch a fish the fun's all over. It just leads to a lot of cleaning and cooking. And the fish bones are a nuisance. Give me a hot loaf of bread any day." Leaning back against the tree he nibbled on the biscuit.

The boys enjoyed the morning as it slipped into afternoon. Liam was starting to get hungry. "You're not catching many fish," he said.

"I thought you didn't want fish," Mica said.

"Wouldn't mind you catching some. As long as you did all the cleaning and cooking."

A voice from behind them said, "I suppose he'd have to eat them for you too?"

Both boys jumped. "Willow!" Mica said. "You make a cat sound noisy."

Her laugh rang like small clear bells. "It's fortunate I'm not a cat. It doesn't look like you have enough fish to share."

Mica started to protest, but Willow touched his shoulder. "I'm sure your luck would change in time, but the king would probably be less impressed with the fish than I."

Liam reluctantly got to his feet. "I guess it is time to get cleaned up. And I wouldn't mind a little lunch."

Mica pulled up his small string of fish. "It would take more time to clean these than eat them." He released the fish into the water and the three friends walked back together.

It didn't take the boys long to eat and get ready. They decided to wait outside for Willow. They sat on a bench under the tree. The air was starting to cool. Shadows stretched across the yard and fireflies floated across the garden.

"I'm a little worried about tonight," Liam said.

"About what?" Mica said.

"About dancing." He looked down at his shoes. "I don't know the first thing about dancing. All that stepping and bowing and twirling..."

When Mica didn't reply, Liam looked up. His friend was looking across the yard. "Are you listening? I could use some help with this dancing thing."

He followed Mica's gaze. Willow drifted gracefully across the grass. Her dark silver dress sparkled with each step like reflected moonlight. She stopped in front of them. The silver shimmers muted and sank like receding ripples on a quiet woodland lake.

Mica jumped to his feet stammering. "I didn't expect...I mean..." His voice softened. "You're beautiful." He took her hand in his. "Tonight you will outshine the royal ladies in their own court."

"I am pleased my gallant escort approves. And look at you two." She held out her arms. "The ladies aren't the only ones who will have cause to be jealous."

Liam felt his face warm. "We better get started or the ball will be finished before we get there."

They joined Ogden inside and he led the way into the potion room. As Liam was shutting the door, Hodekin winked and tipped his hat sideways with his finger. "Enjoy the ball," he called. Then he dropped his voice so only Liam heard. "We'll keep the light on, but there'll be no need to hurry home."

When they came through the door at the castle, carpets lined the stone floors in the corridors. The king's guards, in dress uniforms, checked invitations as the guests entered the large commerce room.

The lifting platform's safety ropes had been replaced with soft black velvet cords draped with garlands of wisteria. They joined the gaily dressed crowd and made their way through the hall to the courtyard. A line of guests slowly made their way up the stairs to the ballroom.

As they waited their turn, Alabaster came striding down the stairs. He swept past them, his white robe flowing behind him. Liam watched as he crossed the courtyard to his tower.

Mica jabbed Liam in the ribs with his elbow. "That one seems full of himself."

Liam smiled. It was good to be the one with the answer instead of always having to ask questions. "That's Alabaster, the king's wizard. He's the one who introduced me to Belinda and arranged payment for the door we installed."

The crowd thinned in front of them. The Doormaster stepped forward and handed his invitation to a page wearing a purple and black tabard. The young man turned to the king.

"May I present to your majesties, Doormaster Ogden and his party." With a deep bow and a flourish, he waved them in.

The Doormaster strode up to the king and bowed. "Your majesty. It is my honor to be your guest."

The king clasped Ogden's shoulder in a firm grasp. "Good to see you my friend. You're looking prosperous." He poked him in the belly and grinned.

"Someone has to sample Drindle's wares to be certain they are fit for your majesty."

"His pastries are truly delicious. If not for the queen, I'd need new robes every fortnight."

While the king and Ogden talked, Liam's gaze wandered to where the queen and the little princess Jenna were standing. A swirl of blue caught his eye. Behind the princess stood Belinda. The deep blue satin of her gown flowed out from her waist like a bell, cascading over a flame red underskirt. Slits in the puffy blue sleeves revealed more of the bright red silk. Her hair was pulled into an elaborate braid, entwined with blue ribbons to match her dress.

She smiled and nodded her head sideways towards the king. Liam followed her gaze and was mortified. The king was watching him.

"...my apprentice, Liam," Ogden was saying.

The king smiled at his embarrassment. "It's okay, boy. Even a king can't compete with a young girl's beauty."

The queen smiled. "The ball is to be enjoyed." She turned to Belinda. "Take your young friends and join the merriment."

Belinda looked at her in surprise. "But your majesty..."

The queen shooed her away. "Go, my dear. The princess will be fine with me." She looked down at the little girl. "Won't we darling?" The little girl nodded.

They edged their way along the dance floor. The weapons festooning the ballroom walls starkly contrasted with the festive dancers. At the end of the room tables were setup on three sides of a small alcove.

A large peregrine carved from a single piece of lavender quartz sat in the center of the first table, its back and wings hollowed out. A frothy punch filled the deep bowl. Frost formed on each of the finely detailed feathers. The vessel was obviously linked to a glacier or frozen lake.

A rainbow of long stemmed quartz goblets filled the table. Each was carved with an exalted member of the realm in a scene. Not all were warriors leading charges. There were teachers, healers, artisans, builders, astronomers, sailors, and weavers.

The table on the left held small sandwiches, of every shape, each one more decorative than the last. But they couldn't compare to the intricately decorated pastries from Drindle's shop that filled the right hand table.

Liam filled one of the goblets and handed it to Belinda. Mica reached for a goblet.

Willow placed her hand over his. "Perhaps you'd rather ask me to dance?" she said. Mica's face lit up with a grin and he offered her his arm. They disappeared into the swirl of dancers, Willow's silver dress flashing like starlight amidst the garden of color flowing on the dance floor.

Liam turned back to Belinda. She was gently swaying to the music as she watched the dancers. She turned to Liam with a hopeful smile.

Searching for the right words he heard himself stuttering, "I don't know...I can't dance..." Her smile started to fade. "I'd like to," he added quickly, "but I don't know how."

"It's just like walking," she said. "You learn by the doing." She set down her goblet and grabbed his hand. "It has to be easier than fighting goblins."

He followed her onto the floor not at all sure she was right. They joined the crowd and Liam tried to blend in with the rest of the dancers.

Belinda stepped into his arms and he made a few clumsy steps as he struggled not to step on her feet. Gracefully she drifted across the floor as if weightless. She melted into his arms and whispered in his ear, "Just relax. Let the music move your feet."

She laid her head on his shoulder. Her hair smelled of lilacs. The other dancers faded into a swirl of colors. The music engulfed them. He couldn't ever remember being this happy, and he hugged her tightly. The song ended much too soon and his arms felt empty when Belinda stepped back.

"Are you sure you've never danced before?" she asked.

Before he could answer she was distracted. Two brutish men dressed like the king's servants were arguing near the food tables.

"Liam, those men look familiar."

"Aren't those the two men who were in the service of Alabaster?"

"Yes!" she said. "The ones carrying the heavy box into the tower. Alabaster would be appalled to know they are using such common language at the king's ball. I need to find him before the king notices this disturbance."

"I saw him in the courtyard. I think he was headed towards his tower."

Belinda squeezed his hand. "I'll be right back." In a flash she was gone, weaving her way through the crowd.

Liam looked around for Mica and Willow, but they were nowhere in sight. Near the door he spotted his master talking to the queen. Knowing Belinda would have to come back through the courtyard door, he made his way to the entrance. He could talk to the Doormaster until she returned.

As he got closer, he heard the little princess talking to the Doormaster. "Mama says it's time for me to go to bed, but I don't want to leave the party."

The Doormaster leaned down and smiled. "Parties aren't as much fun for the very young or the very old. They aren't nearly as pleasant as a good bedtime story."

"I've heard all my mama's stories. Perhaps you know some stories."

The Doormaster laughed. "Me?"

"Jenna, dear," the queen said, "we mustn't impose on the Doormaster."

Jenna looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Just one? I'm sure your stories are the best."

"The princess has learned statesmanship at a very young age." He chuckled. "How can I refuse such a charming request? But we must leave the decision to your delightful mother."

The queen smiled at Ogden. "If you really don't mind one short tale. Then we'll rejoin the party."

They headed up the stairway together with Jenna slightly ahead, pulling on the Doormaster's hand. She led them past the guards into the royal apartments.

A horrendous crash drew everyone's attention to the buffet tables. The musicians stopped playing. Everyone stared. The two brutes that had attracted Belinda's attention stood grinning wildly. In their hands was the tablecloth they had just ripped from beneath the centerpiece.

Liam stared in disbelief at the table. It was his missing door from the lake! What were these two fools up to standing there amidst the broken shards of goblets and pieces of punch bowl as if waiting?

With a bang the door flew open and up popped a goblin's head, followed quickly by the rest of him.

"To Arms!" shouted the king. Dancers rushed to pull weapons from the walls as goblins poured through the door like bats from a pit.

Just when Liam thought it couldn't get worse out squeezed a troll. The door frame groaned and an even bigger troll followed. They headed straight for the king. Goblins swarmed towards the stairs. Guards with their pikes, and dancers wielding weapons from the walls rushed to defend the royal apartments.

The king drew his sword and strode past Liam towards the fight.

Liam caught his cloak "Wait!" he cried.

The king spun on Liam, his face set in a scowl. "Do Not hinder me. I must save my queen."

Liam released his hold but stood his ground. "You'll never make it past the trolls." The king ignored him and pushed him aside. Liam thought quickly. "There's another way," he shouted.

"State your plan quickly then," the king said.

Liam faltered a second under the king's stern gaze then blurted, "The trellis outside...we can climb the vines up to the balcony."

The king's scowl faded and his mouth twitched upward. "Perhaps... the wisteria may hold us if we climb one at a time." He sheathed his sword and rushed towards the door. Liam hurried to catch him.

The king stopped at the bottom of the trellis and gave the vines a tug. With a satisfied grunt he began to climb. "Wait until I reach the balcony before you follow," he called over his shoulder.

Liam peered nervously back into the ballroom. The guards and dancers were holding the stairs against the press of goblins. He could see Mica and Willow near the edge of the fight. Willow was standing on a small decorative table her shimmering gown flowing around her as she made good use of the bow she had found. The goblins had learned to fear her aim, and used what cover they could. In front of her stood Mica, striking down any goblin that dared to come within reach.

The trolls used their great bulk, pushing through the crowd. Liam realized they were making their way toward the king. He looked up to call a warning and saw the king's robe disappear over the balcony rail. Liam jumped. His hands clenched the vines as he struggled to find a foothold. He could hear the slap of troll feet and the scrape of their claws on the marble floors behind him. Fear surged through him and he scrambled up the vines.

Below him the first troll reached the trellis. The vines shook violently. He struggled to throw his leg over the rail. The pot holding the vine smashed into the railing and dropped Liam back slamming him against the wall. "Oof," the air was forced from his lungs. The vine shook again and he felt his grip slipping. The troll roared and his fowl breath swept up. Liam's stomach lurched. He clenched at the shaking vine but couldn't hold on. He looked past his shoulder into the upturned face of the troll. Its moist yellow tusks glistened beneath him. A vice like grip clamped his wrist and jerked him over the railing. The troll bellowed with rage and ripped the vines from the trellis.

The king helped Liam to stand. "At least we won't be followed."

Liam looked over the rail. The first troll had been joined by the second. Together they howled in frustration, stomping and shredding the wisteria vines with their tusks. He started to follow the king but was turned back by a cry from the courtyard. Fear sent a spear of ice deep into his stomach. He knew that voice. The king had heard it too and he pointed across the courtyard. Beyond the trolls a flash of white robes framed with blue caught his eye. Liam choked back a gasp as he recognized Belinda's gown.

The king growled, "What treachery is Alabaster up to? I will not tolerate this treatment of Belinda." He pounded his fist on the railing. "The queen warned me that wizard was not to be trusted."

Liam watched as Alabaster dragged Belinda into his tower. The door slammed behind them and Belinda was lost from view.

"Come," said the king. "Now is not the time to be idle." He turned and swept through the door and down the hall.

Liam collected his wits and ran after the king. He wasn't sure how he was going to fight a wizard but he knew he wasn't going to abandon Belinda to Alabaster. He wished he had brought his sword.

The king moved quickly through the castle, not slowing until he reached the doors to the royal chambers. There he was met by a dozen men of arms with swords and pikes. The captain stepped forward with a short bow to the king. "All secure Sire. The queen and princess are safe. The goblins have been repelled. The trolls however are proving to be more of a bother but nothing we can't handle."

"Well done captain. Stay at your post until this entire mess has been cleared from my castle." The captain nodded and stepped back in to the ranks.

"Follow me," the king called to Liam. "We have a wizard to attend to." And he strode off quickly towards Alabaster's tower.

Liam found he almost had to jog to keep up with the king's long strides. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. What was happening to Belinda? Were Mica and Willow still fighting goblins? What was Alabaster up to and how was he going to fight him without so much as a butter knife?

The king led them through a door and outside to the balustrade. In the courtyard below the two trolls were cornered in the garden. They had broken the statuary and were throwing chunks of marble at their attackers. They were holding the band of king's guard at bay. He could see guests from the ball joining the king's forces. It was only a matter of time before the trolls would be subdued.

The king hardly paused at the entrance leading to the wizard's tower. He jerked open the door. It swung wide on its hinges to bang against the stone. They stepped inside and paused to let their eyes adjust to the dim light. Above them they heard scuffling and a dull thud. A maniacal laugh drifted down the stairs.

The sound chilled Liam. It was the sound the black wizard had made when attacking his master in the spell room.

The king slipped his sword from its sheath. "Alabaster's rooms are just above us," he said. "It's time to discover what deviltry he's up to." He hurried up the spiral staircase. Liam followed behind on the narrow stair. Unlike the guard's heavy boots, the soft soles of their shoes made little noise on the stone steps.

The door at the top was slightly ajar. The king eased it open with his sword. The black wizard was nowhere in sight. Belinda lay at the far end of the room. Alabaster bent over her, binding her hands. Behind them a heavy door stood half-open revealing a dimly lit room beyond.

"Alabaster!" the king said.

Startled, the wizard straightened. His surprise turned to disgust as he sneered at the king. "I would have thought you'd be busy entertaining my goblins."

"Explain your actions," the king said.

"Explain myself? To you? You wouldn't comprehend."

"Try me," the king said. "I might surprise you."

"Not likely, but it might prove amusing."

Liam looked toward Belinda. Her eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. The bonds looked cruelly tight. He took a step forward. Alabaster pulled a wicked looking knife from beneath his robe. Liam's eyes widened and he froze. A moist green substance shimmered on the blade.

The wizard laughed with insane glee. "I see you recognize my workmanship."

Suddenly it all made sense to Liam. The laugh tied it all together. Alabaster was the black wizard who had attacked the Doormaster.

Alabaster was still talking as he twisted the blade to reflect the light. "Just one little scratch is all it takes." With a sweep of his arm he indicated the open crates of swords cluttering the room. "An impressive collection don't you think? Even a slight wound from any one of them is instant death."

"What are you raving about?" the king said.

Alabaster laughed again. "Even this simple boy understands. I have linked each sword to a vat of my perfect poison. I've spent years concocting the extract. It's made from combining the sting of the smallest insect to the venom of the largest reptile."

A chill ran down Liam's back as the wizard's words pulled at his memory.

"Why would you do this?" the king asked.

"Why? To supply my army of course. Once my goblins are armed with these swords it will be a simple task to relieve you of your crown."

A slight movement of Belinda's head drew Liam's attention. Her eyelids fluttered briefly. A thrill shot through Liam. She was not unconscious. She was listening.

"As wizard to the crown you were second in command only to me," the king said. "Yet you betray my trust and commit this treason?"

Alabaster scoffed. "At last you understand."

Liam stepped sideways, anxious to draw the wizard's attention away from Belinda. His voice shook slightly. "So what did you promise the goblins to get them to fight for you?"

"It's really quite marvelous. They despise you. Any opportunity to destroy you pleases them."

Belinda moved slightly. Again Liam shifted sideways drawing Alabaster's eye. His voice was steadier. "Why weren't the goblins that attacked tonight armed with your magic weapons?"

Without conscious thought Alabaster tracked Liam's movement, turning away from Belinda. She now lay at the wizard's side.

"It proved harder than I anticipated to procure enough silver to shield the swords." Alabaster flourished the wicked knife. "One cannot transport magic weapons through the doors without it. Even your feeble Doormaster must have taught you that."

Liam flushed with anger but managed to ignore the insult to his master. "So you decided to bring the goblins to the swords instead of the swords to the goblins."

"With only a few silver scabbards, there was no other way. Buying silver in any quantity would have raised suspicion."

Liam took another small step sideways. Beside him lay a black robe draped over a chair. The king was watching him closely. Waiting for his opportunity. Liam smoothed the fabric with his hand. "This is the robe you were wearing when you attacked my master."

Alabaster frowned. "That didn't go as planned. Your friends were too well prepared. If I hadn't been wearing armor under that robe it would have gone worse."

"But why attack my master?"

"Your master is feeble minded, but knows his craft. I needed a door to span the long distance between here and Three Finger Lake." He shrugged. "I commissioned the door in the king's name, and you so kindly installed it." A malicious grin split his face. "I had to eliminate any witnesses. I thought you would be the one to open the crate."

Liam's next step bumped him against the wall. "But Belinda recognized your henchmen and figured it out," he said.

Alabaster twisted to keep him in sight. Belinda was now almost behind him. Her eyes were open. The wizard was standing between her and the partially open door. He raised the wicked blade. "And for that brief little moment of insight, you shall both share your king's fate."

The knife flashed in his hand. Liam flinched and called to Belinda, "Now!"

Belinda curled and kicked Alabaster with both feet. The wizard crashed against the door frame with a curse.

The door swung wide. Fear gripped Liam as he stared into the room beyond. Green bottles with red stoppers filled shelf after shelf. A viscous green substance bubbled uneasily in a rusted iron vat.

The king rushed forward to disarm Alabaster. But the wizard was too quick. He jumped sideways to avoid the king's sword. His foot tangled in Belinda's gown. With a cry of outrage he tumbled backwards through the door still clutching the knife. Liam shouted a warning and dropped to the floor, pulling the king with him.

The spelled blade passed the threshold severing the magic link. The door burst in a blinding flash sending shards of wood exploding into the room.

Liam raised his head. Nothing was left of the door. He jumped up, ran to Belinda and helped her to her feet. "Are you all right?" he asked as he loosened the straps binding her wrists.

Belinda smiled. "Far better than that snake of a wizard."

The king sheathed his sword with a snap. "Well done, dear! Well done. Let's put an end to the rest of this nasty business." He headed for the door.

Liam brushed a wood splinter from Belinda's hair. "I'm sure the king will understand if you need a short rest before defeating the next villain."

She smiled. "He might need some help and we do make such a good team."

Liam felt ten feet tall. Seconds ago the wizard had filled him with fear and with just a few words Belinda gave him the courage to face anything. He took her hand and they followed the king back to the royal chambers.

The captain was already reporting to the king. "The battle is over, sire. With the help of your loyal subjects, the guard has overpowered the trolls. The door the goblins used has been sealed. All is secure. The scum has been cleaned from your castle."

"Well done captain. Attend to your men and any wounded. Two guards for the inner chamber will be sufficient for tonight."

The captain bowed and departed leaving two of his men at a discrete distance.

The apartment door opened. The queen and the Doormaster stepped out. Jenna pushed past her mother's skirts and jumped into her father's arms. The queen said, "The noise from below frightened her. But you see Jenna? Just as I told you, everything is fine."

The king smoothed Jenna's hair. Looking over the little girl's head he caught the queen's eye. "All the trouble makers have gone little one. There's nothing to fear." He set her down and kneeled to face her. "It's time for my brave little princess to go to bed. It's been a long day and I'm very proud of you."

Belinda squeezed Liam's hand and whispered to him, "I have to go, but I'll whistle for you when she's asleep." Going over she took the little girl's hand. "Come Jenna darling. Let's get you tucked in."

Belinda paused briefly and gave Liam a small wave before she closed the door.

Worry clouded the queen's face as she looked into her husband's eyes. "Is the danger really past? Do we know how this came about? This is more than goblins and trolls."

"You are right. The plan was too complex to be orchestrated by goblins and trolls. You were also right about Alabaster."

Her eyes narrowed. "Where was our exalted wizard when he should have been fighting beside his king to defend the castle?"

The king said, "Where indeed? He masterminded the attack. Without my knowledge he commissioned the door that gave the villains entry to the castle. If it hadn't been for Belinda, he would have armed them all with poison swords. All this time he's been linking weapons to a hideous vat of poison."

"Poison swords!"

"There are crates of them in his tower."

She looked alarmed. "Where is he now?"

"Alabaster is no longer a problem. He passed through a linked door and severed the link."

"That must have been the explosion we heard," the Doormaster said.

The king nodded. "We'll have little to fear from him now. But I still have the crates of poison swords to deal with."

The Doormaster stroked his beard. "Hmmm. You could have your blacksmith melt them down. The heat from the forge would be transferred to the vat. That would destroy the poison. Then you'll have no need to worry about making new tools from the purified metal."

While they were discussing the swords, Liam heard a voice from the stairs. "Hey, hero. You survived."

A wave of relief washed over Liam. He turned to see Mica and Willow. Mica's new clothes looked worse than his old ones and Willow's dress was stained and torn.

He met them at the top of the stairs and impulsively threw his arms around Willow in a hug. He stepped back stuttering slightly in his embarrassment. "What...what happened to your gown?"

Mica held up his hand. A piece of the shimmering fabric wrapped around his arm from elbow to wrist. "I'm wearing it."

Liam gave Mica a lopsided grin. "It looked better on her."

"Where's Belinda?" Willow asked.

Liam filled them in on Alabaster's plan and on Belinda's quick thinking.

The Doormaster walked up and looked over the group. "What a festive looking group of defenders," he said with a grin. "Your heroic accomplishments have earned you bed and breakfast. The king has provided us with rooms for the night. Hot baths and warm beds wait for us all."

* * * * *

Belinda met them all for breakfast the next morning. Lumba reluctantly acknowledged that Liam might be a proper escort for Belinda. He sent them off after a huge breakfast.

Belinda said goodbye at the top of the lift. They passed through the bakery door. Then spent the morning telling Drindle about Alabaster's treachery while depleting the baker's supply of scones.

"I knew there was something vile about that room and those noxious green bottles," Drindle said. "I've just been too busy. But now it's time to resolve this matter." He got up and rummaged through a cupboard. "Ah, here it is," he said, dragging out an odd shaped bundle.

Liam watched with interest as Drindle unwrapped several old swords. He handed one to Ogden. The Doormaster checked the edge with his thumb and nodded to Drindle. "Just like old times."

Liam accepted one of the old swords, but hoped he wouldn't have a use for it. Mica and Willow still had their weapons from the castle.

Drindle picked up the last sword and took a few practice swings. His long arms flailed as the blade cut through the air. His pointy elbows and boney fingers made him look more like a scarecrow harvesting wheat than a warrior ready for battle.

"I think we're ready now," Drindle said. "He plucked a folded parchment from the shelf and handed it to Liam. "Here's our map. I'll lead. You call out the turns." With that he led the way through the door into the potion room.

Liam unfolded the map, turning it first one way and then the other. Drindle's cryptic notations made no more sense now than they had the first time he had seen them. So he trotted along behind the baker who fortunately didn't ask for his help.

They turned a corner and the stone arch suddenly appeared. There was no mistaking the faces carved into the age blackened stone. But behind the arch lay a wall of rubble.

Liam bent over and picked up a piece of broken stone from the blocked arch. "I would not have thought the blast was strong enough to destroy the room and passageway."

Drindle kicked a small piece with his boot. "I don't think this was done by an explosion. It's too thorough a job."

"Who then?" Liam asked.

"My guess would be the tommyknockers have taken care of the problem for us," the Doormaster said.

"Tommyknockers?" Mica asked.

"The potion room caretakers," the Doormaster explained. "It would seem they have had their fill of Alabaster's wicked tampering."

Willow examined the blockage then looked at the Doormaster. "Is there a possibility the wizard survived?"

"No way of telling without removing all this rock. But I'm confident the tommyknockers would not allow him free access to the potion room."

"I'll have to travel home to report this to my king," Willow said. She turned to Mica. "I would like you to accompany me this time." She reached out to take his hand. "It will be an opportunity for you to meet my parents."

"I'll need another trip to the tailor," Mica said.

Everyone laughed and Mica blushed.

Liam was happy to send the sword home with Drindle. He was happier still to step through the door to the spell room later that afternoon.

The house seemed unusually quiet as the party made their way upstairs. Every thing was spotless as if an army of cleaners had been busy for a week.

Hodekin came shuffling down the stairs, his hair a mess, his eyes half closed. Liam stared. It was the first time he had seen the little kobald without his hat.

The Doormaster said, "Hodekin! Is everything well?"

Hodekin looked up, his eyes still blurry and red from his revelry. "I'll survive, sir. But two days is far too long for a proper party to last."

###

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To Steven and Margaret whose tides of encouragement washed away the sands of procrastination and self doubt and allowed this story to be completed.

* * * * *

Thank you for reading this book.

If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review at your favorite retailer.

Thank you,

Zerelda's Children
