pare and nobody'll ever need to know you were gone at all, though of course you'll be telling your mother, dear lamb that she is. And if something goes terribly wrong it won't matter whether we ever get back at all."
"Ddon'tt ffrrightenn themm," Mrs Which's voice came. "Aare yyou llosingg ffaith?"
"Oh, no. No, I'm not."
But Meg thought her voice sounded a little faint.
"I hope this is a nice planet," Calvin said. "We can't see much of it. Does it ever clear up?"
Meg looked around her, realizing that she had been so breathless from the journey and the stop on the two-dimensional planet that she had not noticed her surroundings. And perhaps this was not very surprising, for the main thing about the surroundings was exactly that they were unnoticeable. They seemed to be standing on some kind of nondescript, flat surface. The air around them was gray. It was not exactly fog, but she could see nothing through it. Visibility was limited to the nicely definite bodies of Charles Wallace and Calvin, the rather unbelievable bodies of Mrs Whatsit and Mrs Who, and a faint occasional glimmer that was Mrs Which.
"Come, children," Mrs Whatsit said. "We don't have far to go, and we might as well walk. It will do you good to stretch your legs a little."
As they moved through the grayness Meg caught an occasional glimpse of slaglike rocks, but there were no traces of trees or bushes, nothing but flat ground under their feet, no sign of any vegetation at all.
Finally, ahead of them there loomed what seemed to be a hill of stone. As they approached it Meg could see that there was an entrance that led into a deep, dark cavern. "Are we going in there?" she asked nervously.
"Don't be afraid," Mrs Whatsit said. "It's easier for the Happy Medium to work within. Oh, you'll like her, children. She's very jolly. If ever I saw her looking unhappy I would be very depressed myself. As long as she can laugh I'm sure everything is going to come out right in the end."
"Mmrs. Whattsitt," came Mrs Which's voice severely, "jusstt beccause yyou arre verry youngg iss nno exxcuse forr tallkingg tooo muchh."
Mrs Whatsit looked hurt, but she subsided.
"Just how old are you?" Calvin asked her.
"Just a moment," Mrs Whatsit murmured, and appeared to calculate rapidly upon her fingers. She nodded triumphantly. "Exactly 2,379,152,497 years, 8 months, and 3 days. That is according to your calendar, of course, which even you know isn't very accurate." She leaned closer to Meg and Calvin and whispered, "It was really a very great honor for me to be chosen for this mission. It's just because of my verbalizing and materializing so well, you know. But of course we can't take any credit for our talents. It's how we use them that counts. And I make far too many mistakes. That's why Mrs Who and I enjoyed seeing Mrs Which make a mistake when she tried to land you on a two-dimensional planet. It was that we were laughing at, not at you. She was laughing at herself, you see. She's really terribly nice to us younger ones."
Meg was listening with such interest to what Mrs Whatsit was saying that she hardly noticed when they went into the cave; the transition from the grayness of outside to the grayness of inside was almost unnoticeable. She saw a flickering light ahead of them, ahead and down, and it was toward this that they went. As they drew closer she realized that it was a fire.
"It gets very cold in here," Mrs Whatsit said, "so we asked her to have a good bonfire going for you."
As they approached the fire they could see a dark shadow against it, and as they went closer still they could see that the shadow was a woman. She wore a turban of beautiful pale mauve silk, and a long, flowing, purple satin gown. In her hands was a crystal ball into which she was gazing raptly. She did not appear to see the children, Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who, and Mrs Which, but continued to stare into the crystal ball; and as she stared she began to laugh; and she laughed and laughed at whatever it was that she was seeing.
Mrs Which's voice rang out clear and strong, echoing against the walls of the cavern, and the words fell with a sonorous clang.
"WWEE ARRE HHERRE!"
The woman looked up from the ball, and when she saw them she got up and curtsied deeply. Mrs Whatsit and Mrs Who dropped small curtsies in return, and the shimmer seemed to bow slightly.
"Oh, Medium, dear," Mrs Whatsit said, "these are the children. Charles Wallace Murry." Charles Wallace bowed. "Margaret Murry." Meg felt that if Mrs Whatsit and Mrs Who had curtsied, she ought to, also; so she did, rather awkwardly. "And Calvin O'Keefe." Calvin bobbed his head. "We want them to see their home planet," Mrs Whatsit said.
The Medium lost the delighted smile she had worn till then. "Oh, why must you make me look at unpleasant things when there are so many delightful ones to see?"
Again Mrs Which's voice reverberated through the cave. "Therre willl nno llonggerr bee sso manyy pplleasanntt thinggss too llookk att iff rressponssible ppeoplle ddo nnott ddoo ssomethingg abboutt thee unnppleassanntt oness."
The Medium sighed and held the ball high.
"Look, children," Mrs Whatsit said. "Look into it well."
"Que la terre est petite a qui la voit des cieux! Delille. How small is the earth to him who looks from heaven," Mrs Who intoned musically.
Meg looked into the crystal ball, at first with caution, then with increasing eagerness, as she seemed to see an enormous sweep of dark and empty space, and then galaxies swinging across it. Finally they seemed to move in closer on one of the galaxies.
"Your own Milky Way," Mrs Whatsit whispered to Meg.
They were headed directly toward the center of the galaxy; then they moved off to one side; stars seemed to be rushing at them. Meg flung her arm up over her face as though to ward off the blow.
"Llookk!" Mrs Which commanded.
Meg dropped her arm. They seemed to be moving in toward a planet. She thought she could make out polar ice caps. Everything seemed sparkling clear.
"No, no, Medium dear, that's Mars," Mrs Whatsit reproved gently.
"Do I have to?" the Medium asked.
"NNOWW!" Mrs Which commanded.
The bright planet moved out of their vision. For a moment there was the darkness of space; then another planet. The outlines of this planet were not clean and clear. It seemed to be covered with a smoky haze. Through the haze Meg thought she could make out the familiar outlines of continents like pictures in her Social Studies books.
"Is it because of our atmosphere that we can't see properly?" she asked anxiously.
"Nno, Mmegg, yyou knnoww thatt itt iss nnott tthee attmosspheeere," Mrs Which said. "Yyou mmusstt bee brrave."
"It's the Thing!" Charles Wallace cried. "It's the Dark Thing we saw from the mountain peak on Uriel when we were riding on Mrs Whatsit's back!"
"Did it just come?" Meg asked in agony, unable to take her eyes from the sickness of the shadow which darkened the beauty of the earth. "Did it just come while we've been gone?"
Mrs Which's voice seemed very tired. "Ttell herr," she said to Mrs Whatsit.
Mrs Whatsit sighed. "No, Meg. It hasn't just come. It has been there for a great many years. That is why your planet is such a troubled one."
"But why--" Calvin started to ask, his voice croaking hoarsely.
Mrs Whatsit raised her hand to silence him. "We showed you the Dark Thing on Uriel first--oh, for many reasons. First, because the atmosphere on the mountain peaks there is so clear and thin you could see it for what it is. And we thought it would be easier for you to understand it if you saw it--well, someplace else first, not your own earth."
"I hate it!" Charles Wallace cried passionately. "I hate the Dark Thing!"
Mrs Whatsit nodded. "Yes, Charles dear. We all do. That's another reason we wanted to prepare you on Uriel. We thought it would be too frightening for you to see it first of all about your own, beloved world."
"But what is it?" Calvin demanded. "We know that it's evil, but what is it?"
"Yyouu hhave ssaidd itt!" Mrs Which's voice rang out. "Itt iss Eevill. Itt iss thee Ppowers of Ddarrkknesss!"
"But what's going to happen?" Meg's voice trembled. "Oh, please, Mrs Which, tell us what's going to happen!"
"Wee wwill cconnttinnue tto ffightt!"
Something in Mrs Which's voice made all three of the children stand straighter, throwing back their shoulders with determination, looking at the glimmer that was Mrs Which with pride and confidence.
"And we're not alone, you know, children," came Mrs Whatsit, the comforter. "All through the universe it's being fought, all through the cosmos, and my, but it's a grand and exciting battle. I know it's hard for you to understand about size, how there's very little difference in the size of the tiniest microbe and the greatest galaxy. You think about that, and maybe it won't seem strange to you that some of our very best fighters have come right from your own planet, and it's a little planet, dears, out on the edge of a little galaxy. You can be proud that it's done so well."
"Who have our fighters been?" Calvin asked.
"Oh, you must know them, dear," Mrs Whatsit said.
Mrs Who's spectacles shone out at them triumphantly, "And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."
"Jesus!" Charles Wallace said. "Why of course, Jesus!"
"Of course!" Mrs Whatsit said. "Go on, Charles, love. There were others. All your great artists. They've been lights for us to see by."
"Leonardo da Vinci?" Calvin suggested tentatively. "And Michelangelo?"
"And Shakespeare," Charles Wallace called out, "and Bach! And Pasteur and Madame Curie and Einstein!"
Now Calvin's voice rang with confidence. "And Schweitzer and Gandhi and Buddha and Beethoven and Rembrandt and St. Francis!"
"Now you, Meg," Mrs Whatsit ordered.
"Oh, Euclid, I suppose." Meg was in such an agony of impatience that her voice grated irritably. "And Copernicus. But what about Father? Please, what about Father?"
"Wee aarre ggoingg tto yourr ffatherr," Mrs Which said.
"But where is he?" Meg went over to Mrs Which and stamped as though she were as young as Charles Wallace.
Mrs Whatsit answered in a voice that was low but quite firm. "On a planet that has given in. So you must prepare to be very strong."
All traces of cheer had left the Happy Medium's face. She sat holding the great ball, looking down at the shadowed earth, and a slow tear coursed down her cheek. "I can't stand it any longer," she sobbed. "Watch now, children, watch!"
SIX
The Happy Medium
Again they focused their eyes on the crystal ball. The earth with its fearful covering of dark shadow swam out of view and they moved rapidly through the Milky Way. And there was the Thing again.
"Watch!" the Medium told them.
The Darkness seemed to seethe and writhe. Was this meant to comfort them?
Suddenly there was a great burst of light through the Darkness. The light spread out and where it touched the Darkness the Darkness disappeared. The light spread until the patch of Dark Thing had vanished, and there was only a gentle shining, and through the shining came the stars, clear and pure. Then, slowly, the shining dwindled until it, too, was gone, and there was nothing but stars and starlight. No shadows. No fear. Only the stars and the clear darkness of space, quite different from the fearful darkness of the Thing.
"You see!" the Medium cried, smiling happily. "It can be overcome! It is being overcome all the time!"
Mrs Whatsit sighed, a sigh so sad that Meg wanted to put her arms around her and comfort her.
"Tell us exactly what happened, then, please," Charles Wallace said in a small voice.
"It was a star," Mrs Whatsit said sadly. "A star giving up its life in battle with the Thing. It won, oh, yes, my children, it won. But it lost its life in the winning."
Mrs Which spoke again. Her voice sounded tired, and they knew that speaking was a tremendous effort for her. "Itt wass nnott sso llongg aggo fforr yyou, wwass itt?" she asked gently.
Mrs Whatsit shook her head.
Charles Wallace went up to Mrs Whatsit. "I see. Now I understand. You were a star, once, weren't you?"
Mrs Whatsit covered her face with her hands as though she were embarrassed, and nodded.
"And you did--you did what that star just did?"
With her face still covered, Mrs Whatsit nodded again.
Charles Wallace looked at her, very solemnly. "I should like to kiss you."
Mrs Whatsit took her hands down from her face and pulled Charles Wallace to her in a quick embrace. He put his arms about her neck, pressed his cheek against hers, and then kissed her.
Meg felt that she would have liked to kiss Mrs Whatsit, too, but that after Charles Wallace, anything that she or Calvin did or said would be anticlimax. She contented herself with looking at Mrs Whatsit. Even though she was used to Mrs Whatsit's odd getup (and the very oddness of it was what made her seem so comforting), she realized with a fresh shock that it was not Mrs Whatsit herself that she was seeing at all. The complete, the true Mrs Whatsit, Meg realized, was beyond human understanding. What she saw was only the game Mrs Whatsit was playing; it was an amusing and charming game, a game full of both laughter and comfort, but it was only the tiniest facet of all the things Mrs Whatsit could be.
"I didn't mean to tell you," Mrs Whatsit faltered. "I didn't mean ever to let you know. But, oh, my dears, I did so love being a star!"
"Yyouu arre sstill verry yyoungg," Mrs Which said, her voice faintly chiding.
The Medium sat looking happily at the star-filled sky in her ball, smiling and nodding and chuckling gently. But Meg noticed that her eyes were drooping, and suddenly her head fell forward and she gave a faint snore.
"Poor thing," Mrs Whatsit said, "we've worn her out. It's very hard work for her."
"Please, Mrs Whatsit," Meg asked, "what happens now? Why are we here? What do we do next? Where is Father? When are we going to him?" She clasped her hands pleadingly.
"One thing at a time, love!" Mrs Whatsit said.
Mrs Who cut in. "As paredes tem ouvidos. That's Portuguese. Walls have ears."
"Yes, let us go outside," Mrs Whatsit said. "Come, we'll let her sleep."
But as they turned to go, the Medium jerked her head up and smiled at them radiantly. "You weren't going to go without saying good-bye to me, were you?" she asked.
"We thought we'd just let you sleep, dear." Mrs Whatsit patted the Medium's shoulder. "We worked you terribly hard and we know you must be very tired."
"But I was going to give you some ambrosia or nectar or at least some tea--"
At this Meg realized that she was hungry. How much time had passed since they had had their bowls of stew? she wondered.
But Mrs Whatsit said, "Oh, thank you, dear, but I think we'd better be going."
"They don't need to eat, you know," Charles Wallace whispered to Meg. "At least not food, the way we do. Eating's just a game with them. As soon as we get organized again I'd better remind them that they'll have to feed us sooner or later."
The Medium smiled and nodded. "It does seem as though I should be able to do something nice for you, after having had to show those poor children such horrid things. Would they like to see their mother before they go?"
"Could we see Father?" Meg asked eagerly.
"Nno," Mrs Which said. "Wwee aare ggoingg tto yourr ffatherr, Mmegg. Doo nnott bbee immpatientt."
"But she could see her mother, couldn't she?" the Medium wheedled.
"Oh, why not," Mrs Whatsit put in. "It won't take long and it can't do any harm."
"And Calvin, too?" Meg asked. "Could he see his mother, too?"
Calvin touched Meg in a quick gesture, and whether it was of thanks or apprehension she was not sure.
"I tthinkk itt iss a misstake." Mrs Which was disapproving. "Bbutt ssince yyou hhave menttionedd itt I ssupposse yyouu musstt ggo aheadd."
"I hate it when she gets cross," Mrs Whatsit said, glancing over at Mrs Which, "and the trouble is, she always seems to be right. But I really don't see how it could hurt, and it might make you all feel better. Go on, Medium dear."
The Medium, smiling and humming softly, turned the crystal ball a little between her hands. Stars, comets, planets, flashed across the sky, and then the earth came into view again, the darkened earth, closer, closer, till it filled the globe, and they had somehow gone through the darkness until the soft white of clouds and the gentle outline of continents shone clearly.
"Calvin's mother first," Meg whispered to the Medium.
The globe became hazy, cloudy, then shadows began to solidify, to clarify, and they were looking into an untidy kitchen with a sink full of unwashed dishes. In front of the sink stood an unkempt woman with gray hair stringing about her face. Her mouth was open and Meg could see the toothless gums and it seemed that she could almost hear her screaming at two small children who were standing by her. Then she grabbed a long wooden spoon from the sink and began whacking one of the children.
"Oh, dear--" the Medium murmured, and the picture began to dissolve. "I didn't really--"
"It's all right," Calvin said in a low voice. "I think I'd rather you knew."
Now instead of reaching out to Calvin for safety, Meg took his hand in hers, not saying anything in words but trying to tell him by the pressure of her fingers what she felt. If anyone had told her only the day before that she, Meg, the snaggle-toothed, the myopic, the clumsy, would be taking a boy's hand to offer him comfort and strength, particularly a popular and important boy like Calvin, the idea would have been beyond her comprehension. But now it seemed as natural to want to help and protect Calvin as it did Charles Wallace.
The shadows were swirling in the crystal again, and as they cleared Meg began to recognize her mother's lab at home. Mrs. Murry was sitting perched on her high stool, writing away at a sheet of paper on a clipboard on her lap. She's writing Father, Meg thought. The way she always does. Every night.
The tears that she could never learn to control swam to her eyes as she watched. Mrs. Murry looked up from her letter, almost as though she were looking toward the children, and then her head drooped and she put it down on the paper, and sat there, huddled up, letting herself relax into an unhappiness that she never allowed her children to see.
And now the desire for tears left Meg. The hot, protective anger she had felt for Calvin when she looked into his home she now felt turned toward her mother.
"Let's go!" she cried harshly. "Let's