The Exile

Besides – what exactly is your plan for getting past the Corprid Willow? Nobody gets past that thing alive.”

  “I have some ideas,” said Lillian, trying to sound more confident than she really was.

  “Well, two heads are better than one, I always says.”

  “Very well. But you must keep up. I have no time to waste.”

  The pair headed along the path envisioned in Lillian’s mind’s eye.

  “You seem to know exactly where you’re going,” said Charlie.

  “Pathfinder charm.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if that’s how they found him.”

  “How who found who?”

  “Ah, nothing.”

  “No it wasn’t. Tell me.”

  Cairns walked ahead of them a few paces, sniffing at the edges of the trail, snorting now and then.

  “Well, a few nights ago, a small detachment of the Regent Chief’s shadow guard came traipsing right through our camp.”

  “Our?”

  “Yeah, me and me mates. We all live in a camp about four mile or so north of here. Anyways, these guards go right through, not even stopping to apologize or nuffin. Then they comes back about an hour later, carrying a young fellow who seemed to be asleep in their arms. I dunno who he was, but I reckon they’s keeping him at the palace.”

  Lillian’s heart leapt.

  Ivan.

  “Why do you think they used a pathfinder charm?”

  “Well, if they weren’t tracking in a straight line to some known destination, they would’ve gone around us, wouldn’t they? I mean, in general, they try to avoid our camps – they prefer not to have anything to do with the people round here.”

  “Oh.”

  Lillian pondered. If Ivan was at the palace, that changed things.

  After another fifteen minutes, they reached a narrow gully. At the end of it, its back to a tall wall of granite housing a cave entrance, stood an evil-looking willow tree.

  “The Corprid Willow,” said Charlie, stopping to stare ahead at the menacing beast of a tree. “You got any spells in that book of yours to handle that monster?”

  Lillian shook her head. “I just thought that maybe I could create a half dozen temporary copies of myself using the effingo hex, and confuse the tree so I could slip past while it was trying to kill my duplicates.”

  Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “Not bad, not bad. But, what if, in the confusion, the tree manages to nail you with those seedlings? What if the real copy gets hit – then what?”

  “Then I die.”

  Charlie looked serious. “You are determined, aren’t you? You must have a very good reason. Well, listen, I’ve got another idea – one that’s sure to work.”

  Lillian looked at him expectantly.

  “Well,” Charlie said, “I think my idea is worth something.”

  “And?”

  “And I mean, I’ll share it – in exchange for half the timewater we retrieve from the Forbidden Cave.”

  “Fine. What’s the plan?”

  Lillian listened closely while Charlie explained his idea.

  “All I ask, is that I get to keep half the timewater for meself. What could be more fair, eh? After all, I’m doing most of the work!” he smiled.

  It was a good idea. Minimal risk to her, and not much chance Charlie would run off with all the timewater, since she could always just strike him down with a sopio charm, and he knew it.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  Lillian consulted her spell book to make sure she got it right, then swung her staff toward Cairns. The animal flinched as she said, “Effingo permultus, brevis!”

  The effingo hex took hold on Cairns, creating dozens of little duplicates of the creature.

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “You’ll have to show me how to do that, one day.” He tossed several handfuls of treats toward the Corprid Willow, scattering them all over the knobbly root system, but mostly to one side. The temporary clones of Cairns ran after the treats while Charlie held the real Cairns tightly to keep it safe.

  The little animals ran all around the tree, confusing it. Showers of poison seedlings sprayed in all directions. Charlie handed Cairns to Lillian, nodded to her politely, then vanished.

  Lillian watched as his footprints moved off toward the evil tree. She assumed he would skirt to the right, away from most of the action, and sneak right through, slipping into the cave undetected. As the tree responded to light, ground pressure, and sound, Charlie should be able to tread lightly and quietly, avoiding the onslaught while the decoys took the brunt of the attack.

  All Lillian could do was clutch the smelly Cairns to her and watch as the duplicates dropped like flies. Soon, there were only a handful left. She started to worry that Charlie would have no cover when he tried to make his return trip.

  “Hello, luv.”

  Charlie’s voice right behind her startled her and she dropped Cairns. She spun around to face the grinning Charlie.

  “Must you do that?” she said angrily. Then she saw the brown glass hip flask Charlie held out. “Oh, thank you.”

  “Nuffin to it. One for you,” he said, handing the bottle over, “and one for me.” He patted his chest, indicating an inside pocket.

  “What are you going to do with it?” she asked, realizing it was unlikely he had a copy of Emery the Bold’s book.

  “Well, it’s like money, innit? Better than gold – since there’s quite a few ‘round here what knows how to make gold. But this, well – should be able to trade it quite well, I’d imagine.” He looked at her inquisitively. “And you?”

  Lillian took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, staring at the bottle, then looking at Charlie. “Never you mind.”

  “Right then. Well, I suppose this is it. Nice to’ve met you.” He tipped his hat, turned away, and strode off to the north, Cairns tagging along behind.

  Lillian turned away and looked back at the Corprid Willow. One by one, the little corpses of Cairns-copies started to disappear, fading out of existence as the effingo hex wore off.

  She thought about Ivan, and how he was likely being held at the palace. She thought about how she was now closer to the palace than she was to her home. She would have to make it all the way back out of the forest again to freeze the timewater in her freezer at home.

  But there was another possibility.

  She turned away from the willow and walked a few paces down the trail, not feeling comfortable within sight of the thing.

  She gathered a few dry sticks and used her half-hexed staff to start a small campfire.

  She then uncapped the flask of timewater and held it near the flames, watching the light dance through the clear liquid as it heated up. Bubbles quickly formed, and a thin wisp of steam started to escape the narrow neck. It seemed to have a much lower boiling point that normal water.

  She pulled the flask from the flames and touched the bottle to her lips. The glass was warm, but not hot.

  She closed her eyes and sipped at the magical liquid.

  She’d expected it to be bitter, but it was actually very sweet. It seemed to melt into her tongue before she could swallow it. She gulped at it a little more, trying to make sure at least some of the stuff went down her throat before evaporating.

  Suddenly, she felt nauseous, but it only lasted a moment.

  Then everything seemed to stop.

  The forest sounds all around her fell silent. The flames of the fire froze in place like a sculpture.

  It was working.

  She’d just bought herself time – and speed.

  She read the incantation to establish a new destination, then recited the pathfinder charm. She started off for the estate – for the palace – like an arrow rushing through the air to its target.

  Lillian knew that she now appeared as a mere blur to any onlooker, but from her perspective, the world was at a complete standstill. She passed animals frozen in their tracks, a stream with
unmoving ripples, even an owl suspended in the air.

  As fascinating as it all was, she was a woman on a mission – no stopping to observe the wonders presented by the timewater.

  The forest soon opened up unto lush green fields of low-cut grass – the well-groomed outer grounds of the estate. Before long she found herself at the gates of the palace compound. As luck would have it, the gate stood open about a foot – being in the process of being closed behind a guard. Just enough to squeeze through.

  She looked straight into the eyes of the guard as she passed. If he saw anything at all, his expression was completely stationary and he appeared to be unaware of her.

  She moved across the perfectly manicured gravel driveway, past a parked carriage and walked right up the steps to the front door like she owned the place.

  Well, technically, she did own the place.

  She opened the unlocked front door, entered, and closed it behind her.

  She repeated the pathfinder charm, and in her mind, she could see the damp, shadowy chamber, deep in the dungeons of the palace. Within her destination, it was dark, the vision murky – but she could sense that her beloved son was in there somewhere.

  She passed a grandfather clock, its pendulum hanging to one side – and as she looked at it, she saw it start to move.

  The timewater was beginning to wear off.

  The pendulum gradually gathered speed, until it was once again swinging at a normal rate.

  Time to move.

  Lillian crept carefully along the passageways with their stone walls covered in elaborate tapestries. The palace was somewhat of a contradiction – ancient décor lit by modern electric lighting in fancy sconces along the walls.

  The estate had been in the Bann family for centuries, so the main