Alexander appeared not long after, finding her facing the darkness of the cave with no way to make light. “I see your magic is back,” he said with a smile.
She nodded wearily.
“Fortunately, I think the wall on the inside of the valley is just an illusion,” he said, transforming into a ball of light to guide her way.
A few minutes later, she reached the wall on the other end of the tunnel only to discover that it felt solid. Emotionally spent, she sat down with her back against the side of the tunnel and closed her eyes.
“I don’t have the strength to burn my way through right now.”
“Try pushing against it,” Alexander said. “It doesn’t look entirely solid to me.”
More to humor him than anything else, she reached out and put a hand against the wall, leaning into it with halfhearted effort. To her amazement, her hand sank into the stone. There was still resistance, but the farther she passed through, the more it gave. Getting to her feet, she pushed through the wall to the other side, stepping into the little clearing on the edge of Hazel’s valley and a clear winter morning.
“I would never have guessed,” she said, feeling the wall on the other side. It felt solid until she made an effort to pass through. “Well, that’s a pretty effective secret door.”
After placing a few stones in front of the door to mark its location, she headed for the cottage under a bright sunny sky. “I don’t get this place. I couldn’t find it with Slyder, yet it’s obviously open to the sky.”
“I’m not so sure,” Alexander said. “I couldn’t find it either and I searched pretty extensively.”
“So … what, then? A variation on a Wizard’s Den?” Isabel asked.
“No, I think it’s really a cavern with an elaborate illusion that looks like a sky.”
Isabel stopped in her tracks, looking up. “Is that really possible?”
Alexander spread out his hands and shrugged. “I’m lying in a bed on Tyr.”
“Good point,” she said, continuing on toward the cottage.
Before searching for her things, she found some food and ate a quick breakfast. Once her gnawing hunger was sated, she started looking for her equipment. After more than an hour, she found a hidden panel in the back of Hazel’s armoire that opened to a staircase leading below the cottage into a small stone room that looked like it had been magically carved into the bedrock.
Isabel’s pack and weapons sat atop a trunk at the bottom of the stairs. The room appeared to be Hazel’s workspace. Dozens of jars of green glowing lichen hung from the ceiling, casting an eerie glow over the room. There were many shelves of books and a table covered with glassware. A large cauldron sat over a cold fire pit in one corner and several shelves contained a plethora of ingredients, some Isabel recognized, but most were unfamiliar. One shelf held a number of powder-filled jars with labels that read: sleep, henbane, poison, smoke, and concealment. Below that were several vials filled with liquids of various colors and consistencies. They were labeled as welclass="underline" healing draught, blackwort and invisibility.
“Do you think these are potions?” Isabel asked.
“I’m sure of it,” Alexander said. “The healing draught has the same colors as the ones Lucky gave us. The others all contain magic, except the blackwort and it’s the only one with dangerous-looking colors.”
“Should I take them?” Isabel asked.
“Absolutely,” Alexander said. “Hazel drugged you and left you for dead in the swamp without any of your equipment, then abducted Hector, Horace, and Ayela. Take everything of use that you can carry, then light this place on fire. We’re at war with that old witch.”
“When you put it that way,” Isabel said, going to a bookshelf and looking at the titles on the spines. “Most of these are in languages I don’t understand, but these two I can read.” She carefully opened the first book. It was small and bound in leather and written in the common tongue. The next was similar in size and binding except it contained many more pages.
“These might be useful,” Isabel said. “This one is a charm spell and this one is a shapeshift spell.”
“Take them both,” Alexander said. “Do you see any others you can read?”
Isabel shook her head, scanning the remaining titles on the shelf before turning her attention to the book resting on the desk and flipping it open to a random page toward the end. It was blank. She flipped forward until she found writing.
“I think this is her journal,” Isabel said, scanning the latest entry. “It seems we rushed her plans.” She flipped forward to the next page. “Doesn’t say why, but she’s pretty excited to have Hector and Horace. Wait. Oh Dear Maker … she plans to sacrifice them! We have to catch up to her before she reaches the mountain!”
“What’s she going to sacrifice them to?” Alexander asked.
“She calls it a ghidora,” Isabel said, flipping forward several pages. “Listen to this. ‘With the transference complete, I will have both my youth and my rightful place in the House of Karth once again.’ What do you think that means?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt it’s good,” Alexander said. “Take that, too … it might offer some useful insight.”
Isabel went to work packing the books and potions before carefully storing the jars of powder in her pouch. Except for the poison, since she didn’t understand how it was administered and didn’t want to accidentally poison herself.
“Anything else look useful?” she asked, scanning the room.
“One of those glowing jars of lichen,” Alexander said.
Once back in the cottage, she took what food she could carry and a length of sturdy rope, then filled her waterskin. Finally, she built a fire in the hearth and prepared a hot meal which she ate while cooking blackwort onto the blade of her dagger and boot knife. Finally, she tossed several burning logs into the corners of the cottage, then waited until the place was fully ablaze before heading for the exit to the hidden valley. The more she thought about it, the more she knew that Alexander was right. Hazel’s actions were those of an enemy … so war it was. She resolved to kill the old witch on sight lest she gain the upper hand yet again.
Isabel wasn’t anxious to be back in the swamp, especially alone, but she was in a hurry. It didn’t take long to pick up Hazel’s trail, in spite of the multitude of tracks left by the soldiers. The mud made for easy tracking and since the soldiers had left days ago, her friends’ tracks were fresh by comparison, which allowed her to make good time while still being alert to potential dangers and avoiding the water.
Alexander appeared at random intervals, sometimes just to keep her company, other times to warn her of some potential danger ahead. Even when he wasn’t visible, Isabel knew he was watching over her, a fact that was no small comfort in the dreariness and desolation of the swamp.
By the time she’d left the hidden valley, Hazel and her friends had several hours lead on her, but Isabel was fit and strong, driven by purpose and anger, while Hazel was old and frail. Isabel could make out the witch’s footprints amongst her friends, her stride was short and her gait was uneven, she could only be slowing them down.
“You’re gaining on them,” Alexander said, appearing next to her. “Unfortunately, they’re headed for a boathouse on the edge of deeper water. I doubt you can reach them before they get there.”
“And, of course, there’s only one boat,” Isabel said.
“I’m afraid so, but the boathouse is made of evenly cut timbers you can use to build a raft.”
“How far across the water?” Isabel asked.
“Couple of days,” Alexander said. “The foothills of the mountain are on the other side.”
“That’s going to put me at least a day behind them, and that’s without any unforeseen delays. I just hope I can catch up before Hazel gets where she’s going.”