Silvery calm it fell upon his ear as she answered the Wizard. "Though hope may seem to fade for a moment, brother, it rises fast and soon, for there is that within my breast that tells me that you cannot always hold me thus."

She would have given much had the Wizard not found her sunken in despair, but since he had done so, she was determined that he should not guess how deep that despair had been.

The Wizard smiled contemptuously at her words, and added taunt to taunt. "It tells you, perchance, of that Prince, then, who lingers near the Cave Mouth, seeking entrance, in the belief, no doubt, that he can succeed in snatching you from this prison, and from my power. But let him not deceive himself. My guards are many and watchful—my friends without are strong and clever. He will never be able to escape all of these, try how he may."

The Shadow Witch started violently at such unexpected words. The help that she had yearned for had come! Prince Radiance, to whom she had been so true a friend, had not forsaken her in her need! That hope, of which she had boasted, and which had so nearly faded from her heart, sprang again to fulness of life. She threw up her arms in uncontrollable rejoicing, and her voice rang sweet and high and clear as she exclaimed: "Ah, he has come at last, the good Prince Radiance! He has not failed me! Think not that your guards can stay him. Think not that your evil friends are able to destroy him. He has conquered them once—he will conquer again. Already you yourself have felt his mystic power. You shall feel it once more, my brother, when he returns. I have done well to hope!"

"Nay, not so fast," the Wizard flung at her scornfully. "He who comes is not Prince Radiance, but some stranger prince. One who owes you no friendship, whose power is untested, who has no cause to brave great dangers for your sake—grey woman that you are. From the perils that he must meet he will soon turn back, if indeed he live to do so."

Undismayed, undiscouraged, the Shadow Witch bent her dark eyes upon him. "What matter that he is a stranger?" she cried confidently. "They who come from that bright land count themselves no strangers to the weak and the defenceless. They have, too, their own noble magic, before which ours is powerless. In a moment when you think not it will be upon you, and its spell will overcome you. This prince is my friend! I know it well! The hour of my deliverance is at hand!"

Loud rang the laughter of the Wizard. Harsh and vibrant it filled all the room and echoed back from the gloomy walls. "Think you I would tell you of this prince, did I not know that he cannot reach you? Far hid from him are you, my sister," he triumphed, "so deep within this Cave, and behind such walls as he can never penetrate, whatever be his magic. The secret that unlocks your dungeon lies with me only, and with those to whom I choose to entrust it. The spell that holds it fast is the all-potent spell of the Wizard of the Cave."

Proudly and boastfully he spoke, but all that he might say had no power to dim the hope and confidence of his sister. She deigned him no reply, but by her bearing he knew that she feared him not at all.

"When I come again," he jeered at her, "I will bring you further news of this good prince, and how his adventure fares. It will give you food for thought, perchance, as you sit here in your darkness."

"It will indeed sustain me, brother," she replied.

Prince Ember, near to her, though unseen, listening to her dauntless words, loved her yet more for her high courage and for her sorrowful beauty.

Still smiling scornfully, the Wizard turned away. The Imps knowing that he was now ready to depart, raised their lanterns. Their master touched the wall. It opened wide, and in an instant master and slaves were gone, and the walls met silently and grimly together behind them. Beyond its barrier their retreating footsteps grew fainter and yet fainter until soon they could no longer be heard.

Alone, as she believed herself now to be, in the imprisoning darkness, the Shadow Witch let fall her head and sighed deeply. "Ah, that the time may not be long," she murmured. "Ah, that this prince might hasten his coming, for I am very weary, even though I hope."

Then from the darkness near her came a voice. "Princess of the Shadows," it breathed, "I, Prince Ember am here."

At the words her heart leapt within her breast. She raised her head quickly, thinking to pierce the blackness that surrounded her and behold the one who spoke. As she did so the gloom melted, and in its place a soft warm glow flooded all her prison. By its rich light she saw before her a glorious figure, clad all in deepest rose—Prince Ember, freed from his dark disguise. The radiant brightness of his ruddy garments made warmth and light about him. His eyes, ardent and glowing, were bent upon her, filled with a tenderness of sympathy and compassion, with a fulness of love, that struck to her soul. His hands were stretched to her, his spirit drew her.



A cry of wonder broke from the lips of the Shadow Witch. With her large eyes fixed upon him, sorrow fled from her face, and in its stead came joy where joy had never dwelt before. How had he come to her? she asked herself, to her in this dark prison? How had he pierced the thickness of those cruel walls? Why should his eyes rest with love upon her, the grey Shadow Witch? And yet it was true—he was here, this glorious prince—come to save her!

Her face dropped suddenly to her quivering hands, lest it should betray to him too plainly how her heart went out to him, in love and gratitude. Radiance, that first bright prince, had awaked her to keenest longings for a nobler life, a truer magic. But he who stood before her now gave this, and more—gave love, brought happiness.

The Prince came nearer till he was close beside her, and as he did so, her cheek, till now so pale, flushed to a crimson glory against the dusky splendor of her hair. Gently he drew away her shielding hands and looked into her lovely face, bright as none but he had ever seen it. Gently he raised her drooping head and looked into the sweetness of her eyes. "Dear Shadow Witch," he whispered tenderly, "come, ah, come with me, and leave behind forever the darkness of this evil place."

Low was her voice and soft as she made answer: "Happy, thrice happy am I, Prince Ember, that I may leave it with you."





CHAPTER X

When the Wizard parted from his sister, he believed that she was hopelessly in his power, but as he proceeded on his way, he began to recall to himself how defiantly she had borne herself at the last, and with what confidence she had spoken. He remembered, too, how often she had baffled and eluded him before he had imprisoned her, and he knew that it was not entirely impossible that she might do so again. Could she but release herself from the deep darkness that surrounded her, all her own magic would return to her, and then, in spite of all his guards, she might be able by means of one of her clever tricks, to make her way to liberty.

Thinking of these things, he reached a bend in the corridor where two ways met. The one went directly on to the Cave Hall, but the other led away into that remote and dangerous part of the cavern where lay the Pit of Fumes. Thither he was wont to go to practice his most secret arts. No Imps ever dared to tread that way, for it was well known that none but himself could pass over it in safety.

He paused, for he suddenly bethought himself of how easily he could, by a stroke of enchantment, close with a wall the way to the Cave Hall and leave only that one open which led to the Pit of Fumes. Then if by some strange means his sister should contrive to escape from her dungeon, she would unsuspectingly go on to the Pit of Fumes. This she would be unable to pass, and would, therefore, be forced to return to the prison that she had left.

The Wizard laughed aloud, for the thought pleased him well. He determined to prepare this trap for her at once. Abruptly he bade the Imps to rest their lanterns. They did so and stood motionless with eyes fixed on their master. The Wizard bent on them his sternest gaze. "Let none dare to look upon that which I am about to do," he commanded.

Immediately his slaves fell upon their knees, and with eyes fast shut and heads bowed to the dust, meekly awaited his pleasure. It was as if they held their very breath, so deep was the silence of the Cave.

From beneath his cloak the Wizard drew his jet black wand. He waved it toward the walls and repeated, in a voice so low that none but himself could hear them, strange words of enchantment. Under their spell, the Cave walls began to draw slowly together, and before long they stood firmly closed across the way by whence he had come.

Replacing his wand, the Wizard turned to where his servants still knelt with guarded eyes. "Arise, and go forward," he commanded them.

With one accord they sprang to their feet, and without one glance behind to discover what their master had done, they went rapidly ahead of him.

While the Wizard departed in content, Prince Ember made ready to open the dungeon of the Shadow Witch so that she might go free. With her at his side he stood before the thick wall that barred the way to the corridor. He laid his hand upon his fairy sword, and unsheathed it. It glowed and burned with living fire.

With its bright point he touched the wall in that selfsame place where the Wizard was wont to pass through, and on its blackness he traced the scarlet outline of a door.

Breathlessly the Shadow Witch followed with her eyes the moving point of fire, followed it till the outline was complete, and the sword fell back into its sheath. Without a word, but with swiftly beating heart, she waited in her place by Prince Ember's side to see what wondrous thing that sword could do.

Wondrous indeed, for silently and of itself the door swung open, and the corridor that led to freedom was before her.

Prince Ember took her hand, and together they crossed the threshold, but when they had passed it he paused, and spoke one charmed word. As silently as it had opened, the door closed behind them at its creator's command, and its outlines vanished, leaving the wall the grim unbroken barrier that it had been before.

"Ah, my good Prince!" whispered the Shadow Witch looking upon it. "What magic is yours!"

He spoke no word in answer, but raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Then they began their journey along the windings of the corridor, that stretched away and away into a gloom that seemed to have no end. Yet the place where they trod was bright about them, made so by the ruddy glow which streamed from the figure of Prince Ember. In the warmth and cheer of it the Shadow Witch glided happily, and as they left her prison farther and farther behind, she became more and more her former self, and again felt stirring to life within her that old-time power of magic of which she had been so long deprived.

They came at length to the wall which the Wizard had set to mislead his sister. Seeing nothing to arouse their suspicions, they went straight on. After traveling for some distance, however, Prince Ember all at once became aware that it was not the way over which he had gone with the Wizard and his servants. He stopped, and began to look sharply about him. On every hand it was unfamiliar to him.

The Shadow Witch saw that he was troubled, but she could not guess the reason. "What is it?" she asked anxiously.

"When we left the prison," he answered, "we took the way by which I had come to you. There was no other. But now it is not the same."

"There has been no place where we could have turned aside," she assured him. "Nowhere has there appeared any other way open to us."

"And yet we have gone astray," the Prince insisted. "There can be no doubt of it. All that I see now, I have never seen before."

"You are sure of it?" asked his companion.

"I am sure of it."

The eyes of the Shadow Witch flashed with sudden understanding. "It is the enchantment of my brother," she declared. "Lest, perhaps, I should escape him, he has closed the true way, and left this open as a trap for me. Be sure that it leads not to the Cave Hall, except through dangers into which he believes that I will not dare to venture."

"Be these dangers what they may," replied Prince Ember, "I will, by my good magic, overcome them all. And now, since there is no way but this, let us go upon it without tarrying."

"Indeed, we cannot choose but take it," agreed the Shadow Witch.

They resumed their journey, therefore, and now, though the way behind them had been gloomy, that which stretched before them grew more and more so; yet the darker it became about them, the brighter was the glow that streamed from Prince Ember, and the more surely was the Shadow Witch sustained and cheered thereby.

After a while, they saw that they were approaching an open space, which was wrapped in thick darkness. Beyond it their eyes could not penetrate, but in its midst they beheld shapes like wreaths of vapor arising from below.

The Shadow Witch turned pale, and caught Prince Ember by the arm to draw him back. "Go no farther!" she cried in warning. "Go no farther, I beg of you! Yonder is certain destruction for us both! It is the Pit of Fumes! Those dread and yellow mists carry poison in their breath!"

"Though that be so, yet I must conquer them, for behind us lies your prison," the Prince replied to her. "To it we must not return."

"Never shall you risk such danger for my sake," the Shadow Witch answered firmly. "Better an endless prison for me than such dreadful peril for you. I speak of what I know—none but my brother has ever dared to enter yonder place. You shall not go."

"And when this place is passed," demanded the Prince, "what lies beyond?"

"What matters it what lies beyond, when destruction lies between?" she murmured sadly. "Were the way ever so open when the Pit is passed, it is closed to us who stand upon this side."

"What lies beyond?" demanded he again. "Answer me truly, for I must know."

Then the Shadow Witch knew that she must tell him. She covered her face with her hands, and her tears fell fast. For a moment she could not speak.

Prince Ember dried her tears with a tender hand. "What lies beyond?" he insisted gently.

The Shadow Witch clung to him desperately. "The way to the Cave Hall," she admitted. "But, oh, I cannot let you venture where the Pit lies. No, no! Many times have I heard my brother boast to his neighbors that none but himself can draw nigh to it."

"Listen, dear Shadow Witch," said the Prince consolingly, "yonder is a place of terror, in very truth, yet we shall pass it safely, in spite of that. There is good magic which can put to naught even this evil Pit of your brother's. Look—I will show you."

He thrust his hand into his breast, and took out a small round box which was hidden there. "This is the gift of him who is oldest and wisest in all the Kingdom of the Fire," he told her. "When he gave it, he assured me that when the dangers of the way were greatest, when the way itself seemed closed beyond all hope, that this which my box contains will conquer the danger and make the road to safety plain."

Opening the box he took out the piece of charcoal that lay within.

"Stay you here," he bade her, "until I have prepared the way."

But she was not willing that he should go without her. "Whatever comes, we meet it side by side," she declared.

Nothing that he could say would persuade her to do otherwise, and so at last he consented, but as they drew nearer to the Pit, the noisome odor of its fumes swept toward her and overcame her. Her face grew pale, and she began to sink to the ground.

The Prince knew, that in spite of her courage, she could endure no more. He led her back a little way, and forced her gently to rest upon a jutting of the wall. There he left her, weak and trembling, to await his return.

Stronger arose the breath of the Pit, and yet more deadly grew its fumes as the Prince drew near it, but he was undismayed. Straight toward the yellow mists he went, and in his hand was the gift of the Wise One. Presently, he reached that point where he himself dared go no farther. The choking vapors floated round him, but the Pit itself, yawning wide and terrible, was still some distance from where he stood. Now he must trust to the strength of his arm, to the sureness of his aim. He drew himself to his full height; he threw back his arm, and hurled the magic charcoal straight to its mark. "Descend into this Pit!" he cried, as it left his hand. "Descend, and make this evil place to exhale no more!"

Like an arrow it sped. Into the very heart of the Pit it fell, and then were the Wise One's words fulfilled. Like surly slaves, obeying unwillingly, the yellow mists sank back into the Pit, lower and lower, till they were seen no more, and with them went their noisome breath, leaving the air pure and clean. As they vanished, the way which led out of this hollow chamber to the corridor beyond lay plainly visible along the very edge of the Pit.

Prince Ember was about to go and fetch the Shadow Witch from where he had left her, but he had no need. She had felt her strength come flooding back to her when the mists departed, and immediately she rose and came to him.

"Why should I ever fear, when you are with me?" she whispered to him. "How can I ever fail to trust your power to conquer and to save?"

Away from the now vanquished Pit of Fumes they hurried, along a corridor as dusky and deserted as the first had been. Before they had gone far upon it, they heard the low murmuring of voices, and soon they found themselves at the entrance to a low and vaulted chamber, dark like all the rest, but set about with dim lanterns and peopled with many Imps, busy at strange tasks.

Some stood before dingy looms, weaving huge curtains of soot, to replace those which covered the walls in the Cave Hall, when they should become worn, and drop to pieces. Others sat upon blocks of charcoal and braided ropes of darkness to bind those who disobeyed the Wizard's will and though they knew that they themselves might at any time be bound by them, they durst not make them less strong than their master ordained that they should be.

Over them stood the Chief Imp, whose business it was to see that none failed in his duty, or gossiped unduly with his neighbors, and so deeply engaged in their several tasks were one and all, that none heard the sound of approaching footsteps, none knew that any but themselves were near, till quite by accident the Chief Imp raised his head and saw within the doorway of the chamber the ruddy form of Prince Ember standing, and by his side the grey Shadow Witch, whom all had believed to be closely guarded by the walls of her distant prison.

Before the Chief Imp could give a command, before any other could cry out, or attempt evil, the Prince had drawn forth a wand from beneath his mantle and raised it. Clear and strong his voice fell on their ears, saying, "Stir not from your places, nor speak, until the hour when the feet of the Shadow Witch stand once more within the safe borders of her own land."

Under Prince Ember's spell each servant of the Wizard became fixed in his place, unable to move or to utter a syllable. With staring eyes they beheld the Prince and his companion advance, and pass through their very midst, whilst they remained powerless to so much as stretch out a hand to clutch at their garments.

In their rebellious ears the words of his enchantment were still ringing as he departed with the Shadow Witch from their sight.





CHAPTER XI

Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch were now rapidly approaching the Cave Hall. On their way they passed other vaulted chambers, like the one they had just left, and glancing into these as they hastened by, they saw great urns with ponderous lids, and enormous chests, all marked with the signs of the Wizard, filled, as the Shadow Witch was well aware, with those evil things with which he worked his spells, but not an Imp was anywhere to be seen.

She glided cautiously to the door of one of these rooms and peeped in. She found, as she had supposed, that it was the bedchamber of her brother. His huge bed, with its jet black coverings and pillows stood ready to receive him; his tall chair was set close beside it. Near by was his special treasure chest, in which his choicest wands and spellbooks were locked carefully away from prying fingers, but this room was as silent and deserted as all the rest.

On a sudden they heard loud rapping, which became still louder, and then a harsh voice crying out in angry tones, again and yet again.

"It is my brother calling for his Imps," whispered the Shadow Witch. "He is not used to have them tarry when he summons them."

It was as she said: the Wizard, in the Cave Hall, was grey with rage. Never before had he called to his servants without their scurrying on nimble feet to learn his desires, but this time he had struck repeatedly upon the arm of his chair, and had lifted his voice louder and louder, yet neither the Chief Imp nor any other came. He knew where and how they should be employed at this time, and if they were doing their duty, they were within sound of his voice. How they could dare not to answer him, how they could be deaf when he summoned them, the Wizard could not understand.

The Shadow Witch stole closer to Prince Ember, and spoke beneath her breath. "The Wizard is but a few yards from us," she said. "A moment more, and we must encounter him. I do not fear him now, for in this part of the Cave my power has always been fully equal to his own. The truth is, I have more than once defeated him here. He remembers it well. Yet—I was long bound by that dark prison—long subject to his power. Before I return to the Land of Shadows, I must test myself, for I wish to be certain that I can still meet and defy him in his Cave Hall without being conquered by him; but in order to make sure of myself I must go before him quite alone."

Prince Ember shook his head. "I would not have you venture it," he objected. "The risk is too great."

"Not when you are near me," she told him confidently. "If the moment should come when I know that I am unable to resist him longer, I will call to you, and you will hasten to my help."

Reluctantly the Prince consented, and she glided away from him with soundless footsteps. Close, close behind her he followed till they reached the threshold of the Cave Hall. There he tarried out of sight, yet where his eyes could still keep guard over her.

The Wizard, provoked beyond measure by the inattention of his servants, was about to rise from his chair to go and learn the reason, and to punish them, when suddenly a low-toned laugh struck on his ears. It startled him, for it was the familiar laughter of his sister—his sister, whom he believed to be far away, hopelessly imprisoned in the deepest recesses of his cavern. He turned his head in the direction from whence it came, and as he half rose from his seat, puzzled and uncertain, it echoed a second time through the Cave. It came from close by, in that dusky corridor that led to his own bedchamber, led to the rooms beyond where the Imps were busy, ay—and led on still further to his Pit of Fumes. By that way his sister could not pass. He smiled cruelly as he thought of that inconquerable barrier to her coming. By the other way there was the double wall, sealed by his enchantment. Remembering these things he was certain that he but imagined that he had heard her echoing laugh.

Even as he said this, he heard it again, and stealing toward him from out the corridor came a grey figure, laughing as she came. He gazed at it in wonder. It could not really be the Shadow Witch, he told himself. It must be that his eyes were deceiving him.

Impossible as it seemed, however, he presently saw that it was she who stood before him, knew that it was her own voice that rang clear and triumphant in his ears.

"The dungeon in which you thought to hold me was not strong enough when that day came of which I warned you, brother," she declared. "By a power stronger than yours I have escaped, and I am here in proof that you have failed. In this place, as you well know, you can do naught against me."

The Wizard's eyes flashed fire. He made a step forward with hands outstretched to seize her. "Do not boast too soon," retorted he. "I have yet a spell to conquer you even here."

Although the Shadow Witch held her head high in defiance of him, she retreated a few paces. It was true, as she had said, that she was not afraid, but she did not mean to be without caution. She would make her test quickly. If she could but baffle him once more with that old trick of hers, that thus far had never failed to confound him, she would know that she was safe against him.

She waved her grey sleeves, and instantly there fell between her and the Wizard her magic curtain, her moving curtain of shadow. Before it stood a shadow image, so like to herself that it deceived even the keen eyes of the Wizard. Behind the curtain she herself was perfectly concealed.

It was done so quickly, so skilfully, that the Wizard did not guess what had happened. He snatched at the image but when he had almost grasped it, it withdrew from him swiftly. When he pursued it, it darted now to this side, now to that, with marvelous agility, always seeming just within reach of his fingers, yet always just eluding them as they began to close upon it, and each time he failed he heard the laughter that so mocked him.

A triumphant smile stole over the face of the Shadow Witch, for she saw plainly that she was still able to defend herself against him. Knowing how easily she could escape now from the Cave Hall with Prince Ember, she was about to beckon to him, but she was too late, for in that moment the Wizard snatched more swiftly than he had yet done at the gliding figure before the curtain, and this time not in vain. His hands closed upon it, indeed, but closed on nothingness, and thus he learned that he had once more been cheated by his sister's art.

Filled with wrath, he shouted words of enchantment, in a voice loud and compelling, and in answer to them dense darkness descended swiftly over all the Cave Hall, making it as black as the prison from whence the Shadow Witch had escaped. That which she had not believed that he could do here, he had done. Before the darkness her shadow curtain dissolved, and she herself, crying aloud, sank down helpless to the Cave floor.

Now at last the Wizard was certain that she was utterly in his power, was certain that there was none near to hear or answer the sharp cry for help which she had given when she fell. He bent down through the gloom to seize her, but as he did so, the darkness broke and fled, and in its place a rich warm light came flooding through the Cave Hall. It shone upon the evil face of the Wizard stooping there; it made plain the form of the Shadow Witch where she lay.

Startled by this strange light, the Wizard threw back his head to discover from whence it came, and beheld in the doorway the figure of Prince Ember, standing with the Sword of Fire upraised.

It was from the Sword that this ruddy glow streamed forth, and as the Prince advanced rapidly into the Cave Hall, the light grew more intense, so that the Wizard could not bear to look upon its beauty, nor could he bear the strong pure heat that flowed from the Sword as it drew nearer and more near.

Anguish seized him, and a weakness greater even than he had felt before the Sword of Flames in the hands of Prince Radiance. He gave a hoarse cry to his servants for help, but they, voiceless and motionless prisoners in their vaulted chamber, could not answer, could not come to him, although they heard him call.

He tried to struggle to his feet, but it was quite in vain. Instead he fell prone upon the ground. As he lay there, he saw his sister rise from where his evil spell had cast her, saw her grow strong again, saw joy and courage beam in her face. Her eyes were lifted to this stranger, come to succor her with the glowing light and warmth of his conquering Sword. By all these things he knew that the Prince, of whom Black Shadow had warned him, had come at last.

Prince Ember stretched above his prostrate form the fiery Sword. "Cruel and wicked master of the Cave," he cried, "here shall you lie in bondage to this Sword until the hour when your sister stands safely within her own borders. Cry not to your servants yonder. They, too, are bound by my spell and cannot answer. Cry not to your guardians of the Cave Mouth. They also shall be enchained."

Deep into the frame of the Wizard the magic of the Sword pierced its way. He saw, as in a vision, the Prince put back his Sword. With dulling eyes, he beheld his sister take the hand which the stranger tenderly extended to her. He perceived them go together from the Cave Hall, and into that corridor that led to freedom.

Then all sense and thought forsook him. The spell of the Sword of Fire had so penetrated his inmost being that he no longer was aware that beyond the Cave lurked Curling Smoke and the Ash Goblin, and that farther away the Wind in the Chimney waited, all pledged to destroy Prince Ember, and to prevent the escape of the Shadow Witch.

Meanwhile the two pursued their way to the Cave's mouth. At its entrance those Imps who had been sent to guard it still kept vigilant watch. None had ventured to sleep or to stir from his post, for though the time had been long, and no one had tried to pass them, they dared not be unfaithful to their trust. They feared the Wizard's wrath and the punishment that would surely befall them, if anything should go amiss through fault of theirs.

But as Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch approached them, a strange and unfamiliar warmth stole over the watchers, benumbing all their senses. Drowsiness came down upon them where they stood or sat, and with one accord they began to nod, to sink off to sleep, and presently they were wrapped in a slumber so profound that nothing could possibly break it.

This, too, was the spell of the Sword of Fire.

As the Shadow Witch passed the Imps and saw them sleeping there, some leaning upright against the rough wall of the cavern, some with heads bowed on knees, and others lying prostrate on the ground, she turned her head to her companion, with a smile.

"Vain are my brother's guards," she murmured, "when Prince Ember comes."





CHAPTER XII

Rejoicing in the freedom which she now felt was fully restored to her, the Shadow Witch glided from the Cave of Darkness and was about to descend the cliff, but Prince Ember laid a gentle hand upon her, to draw her back. "Dear Lady of the Shadows," he said in an undertone, "we must not go unprotected into the open. It may be that unseen enemies are lurking there, who at least have power to hinder us, even if they cannot harm us. I have in my possession a magic Cloak, which will make us invisible to our enemies, and enable us to go securely and swiftly on our way. Let us put it on." So saying, he drew her still closer to him, and took from his belt the Cloak of Ash and cast it about them both.

She thanked him sweetly for his constant care of her, and side by side they went down the cliff.

But though they were now unseen, they had stood for a moment before the Cave entrance, fully revealed, and in that moment the eyes of an enemy had caught sight of them.

Long had Curling Smoke crouched low in his cranny in the cliff-side. His gaze had roved unceasingly over the Plain of Ash. So vigilant was he that he was sure that none could possibly have approached the Wizard's Cave without being seen by him from his hiding-place. Nevertheless, hour had dragged slowly after hour, and still the one for whom he waited did not appear.

The giant's eyeballs ached, and grew dim at length from his steadfast watching. Had it not been for his keen desire to satisfy his own ancient grudge against the good fairies of the Fire, he would have broken his promise to the Wizard, and careless as to whether or not the Prince went by, he would have lain down to rest.

He wondered greatly at the delay, for, long since, Black Shadow had told him that the stranger was already within the Elf's dwelling in the Borderland. If this were true, he should have reached the Cave by now. Curling Smoke could not imagine what this important matter could be which could detain the Prince so long, yet in spite of his weariness, he continued to look away in the direction of the Elf's house.

Growing more and more restless and impatient, he finally rose a little in his place of concealment and thrust out his head far enough to see not only the expanse of the Plain and the path up the cliff-side, but the entrance to the Cave of Darkness as well. What was his astonishment to see two figures standing before it—one of them the grey-robed Shadow Witch, whom he knew well, the other a stranger, and clad in those ruddy garments by which Black Shadow had declared he might recognize Prince Ember. He could scarcely believe it to be possible that the Shadow Witch had escaped from her brother—that the Prince had crossed the Plain under his very eyes unseen. Yet there they were, almost in his grasp. Eager to snatch at them both, he was about to emerge from his hiding-place, when, to his discomfiture, they both vanished suddenly from his sight.

That they had gone back into the cavern he did not believe to be possible. Moreover their faces had been set toward the Plain. There could be no doubt that they had made themselves invisible, and were now on their way down the cliff.

Unseen though they were, he knew how he could entrap them, and hold them in his power. Determined to do this, he wound his form stealthily upward, and from his right hand he cast forth huge plumes and columns of smoke, which began to overspread the sky, and traveling swiftly, came on and on as his hand directed them, until they hung poised far above the heads of the unsuspecting Prince and his companion.

From his left hand long wreaths and streamers of smoke went out across the ground, creeping along fast and silently, veiling it so that none could see where his own feet trod.

Closer and closer from behind these, great smoke walls drew in, but the faces of the two were set steadily toward the Land of Shadows, and they knew naught of the danger which was so rapidly overtaking them.

Then, suddenly, by the enchanter's power, a smoke wall, dense and impenetrable, fell from above directly before the travelers, setting a barrier between them and the land to which they were bound. All at once they found themselves in a vast chamber, hemmed in on every hand by the encompassing smoke.

The Shadow Witch was first to awaken to their peril. Casting her eyes downward by chance, she all at once became aware of a faint veil of smoke that was creeping round about her feet. Well did she know by that sign who was near. She cast her eyes hurriedly on all sides, and saw with alarm that the smoke was drawing in upon them from every quarter.

She caught Prince Ember's arm, whispering anxiously, "Behold, my Prince, behold the smoke fog! This is the work of the powerful magician, Curling Smoke. We are entrapped." At that same moment the smoke dropped down in front of them, making complete the walls of the vast chamber in which they stood imprisoned.

Prince Ember, beholding, was motionless with dismay. Flashing back to his mind came the warning of his good friend the Elf. "Beware of Curling Smoke," he had said. "None more wicked and dreadful than he inhabits the lands through which you must pass."

How or when the giant had discovered the presence of himself and the Shadow Witch, the Prince could not guess, unless it had been in that one unguarded moment before the Cave, but now he was upon them with his enchantments, and he might be able to overpower them both, armed though they were with the Cloak of Ash and the Sword of Fire. In spite of his great courage, Prince Ember's heart sank low in his breast before this fresh danger to his beloved Shadow Witch. Thinking intently of how best to act against this new foe, he stood silent.

Again the Shadow Witch whispered low: "See! Yonder from out the fog he comes, with his veils trailing from his arm—the Veil that Chokes—the Veil that Blinds! He has discovered us, and means to destroy us!"

Prince Ember cast his arm about her and pressed her dear head protectingly to his breast. Spurred on by his love for her his courage mounted high. Looking to where she directed his gaze, he, too, saw, looming out of the murky clouds, a great shape, fierce and terrible—the giant, Curling Smoke.

From his huge arms hung the veils of which the Shadow Witch had spoken, held always ready to use against any who provoked his wrath. He stood still, at some distance from them, and searched the dim spaces about him with piercing eyes, but seemed not to find the ones he sought.

"He does not see us, dearest," spoke the Prince, under his breath. "The Cloak conceals us, as the Elf promised that it would."

"True," answered the Shadow Witch, "but before we escape this giant we must do battle with him. I know well his ways, and I doubt not that he has joined himself to my brother for our destruction."

"I have a weapon which has not yet failed me," the Prince assured her bravely. "With it I will meet him, and by using it valiantly shall hope to overcome him and deliver you." He was about to draw the Sword of Fire, but the Shadow Witch prevented him.

"Not yet, not yet," she besought him. "Fully do I trust the marvelous power of your Sword, and it will be potent here, I doubt not, if the moment of its using be right, but I have heard that Curling Smoke cannot be vanquished in his smoke chamber until he towers within it to his fullest height. This I believe I have the power to make him do, and when he has done so, I am sure you will not strike in vain. Till then let your Sword rest quiet in its sheath, but keep your hand upon its hilt, and when I give the word, draw it at once and strike quickly."

"It shall be as you say," the Prince promised her, looking into her uplifted face with tender love.

While they had said these things, Curling Smoke had remained where he was, waiting, as if in the hope that he might make visible, by his mere gazing, those whom he had entrapped. Presently they heard his voice crying aloud through the fog, "Let those beware who defy Curling Smoke. Though they be invisible, they shall yet feel his power."

Beneath the Cloak of Ash, the Shadow Witch raised her grey sleeves and waved them toward Curling Smoke. Prince Ember, watching to see what she was about to do, saw a creature, as if in answer to the giant's cry, take shape from among the smoke wreaths that lay along the ground and begin to creep, half hidden by them, toward the giant.

Curling Smoke suddenly beheld it also, beheld it with curiosity and astonishment, for this was neither the Prince nor the Shadow Witch, both of whom he believed to be bound by his enchantment, but a stranger. How he had entered the smoke chamber, he did not know. Remaining, poised watchfully where he was, he kept his glittering eyes upon it, till it should draw nearer.

Before it reached him it began to rise, to grow larger as it rose, and he presently saw that it was a giant like himself, though smaller and less terrible. His head was bent and his face hidden.

Curling Smoke gazed upon the newcomer with indignation. "Who are you, who dare to venture unasked within the bounds that I have set?" he demanded imperiously.

The stranger made no answer, but ceasing to mount, stood poised directly in front of him, with his face still concealed.

"Know you not that I am the Master Magician and have power to destroy you instantly?" shouted Curling Smoke, lifting his huge hand in menace.

Still the creature did not reply.

Instantly Curling Smoke unloosed his terrible Veil that Chokes, and flung it at him. It smote against the drooped head of the unknown, but instead of suffocating him, as Curling Smoke had intended that it should, it floated harmlessly back again and hung itself about the enchanter's arm.

Foiled though he had been in his first attempt, Curling Smoke was not discomfited. He shook free his Veil that Blinds. "This—this shall overcome you," he cried boastfully. "Now shall you learn how great is the power of the Magician of Veils." With skilful hands he so wielded it, that it struck full in the eyes of the intruder, even though his head was still bent low. Yet in spite of this, the second veil drifted back defeated to its place beside the Veil that Chokes.

Wrathful and puzzled because his veils had proved themselves thus powerless against this silent and seemingly defenceless stranger, Curling Smoke thrust out his powerful arms to wind his adversary round and crush him, but the stranger melted from his coils, and stood beyond his grasp unharmed as before.

Then he began again to mount. He reached the magician's shoulders, and shooting yet higher threw back his head.

Curling Smoke, looking upon him, saw to his amazement the face of Prince Ember; a giant now in size, and grey-robed, but still Prince Ember. What had become of the Shadow Witch, by what magic the Prince had become thus transformed, the magician could not guess, nor did he care, provided he but succeeded in conquering this hated visitant from the Land of Fire.

He regarded him in silence for a moment, pondering how he should accomplish it. Here was his match in size; here was one against whom his veils were powerless; here, too, was a creature who melted from his grasp when he thought to seize and twist him. What, then, remained for him to do? This only: to overtop him and smother him by casting himself down upon him from above.

Immediately he began to send himself upward in rapidly rising spirals, so that he might throw himself down upon the stranger with the greater force, but as he mounted, the other ascended also, faster and faster, higher and higher, always head and shoulders above Curling Smoke.

As Curling Smoke rose, he shouted threats and defiance, shaking his fist at his rival and glaring up at him with malicious and baneful eyes. But the other still maintained his strange silence and met his look unmoved.

Prince Ember watching this phantom of himself from the shelter of the Cloak of Ash, marvelled at the power of the Shadow Witch who, by her magic, could so delude their foe. As he watched, he held himself in readiness to draw his sword when his companion gave the word.

Still higher towered the phantom Prince, and after him sprang Curling Smoke, wreathing his murky spirals upward, and crying out more and more boisterously as he grew the more enraged by every vain effort to reach and overleap him.

The two had almost reached the dome, and Prince Ember's hand tightened on his Sword, for he felt that the time to use it was near.

"Not yet, my Prince," whispered the Shadow Witch. "Not yet."

An arm's length higher she sent her phantom, and made him pause. Seeing this, sure now that his enemy could go no further, Curling Smoke shot up with lightning swiftness and stood above him at last, stretched to his full height, an immensely tall and straight and slender column, poised on tiptoe to spring and overleap him. His voice rang out hoarsely. "Ah, now you shall not escape me! At last your time has come!"

"Strike!" breathed the Shadow Witch to the waiting Prince. "Strike now!"

Swiftly Prince Ember threw back the Cloak of Ash. The Sword of Fire glowed red as it swung through the air, and redder still as it struck the limbs of Curling Smoke and clove them. As the strange heat of that fairy Sword rushed through his giant frame, Curling Smoke became as naught. His limbs were seized with faintness and trembling. The phantom Prince vanished suddenly from before him, and his own Veil that Blinds rose in darkening folds across his eyes. The Veil that Chokes swept across his mouth, and his turbulent voice was stilled. He began to shrink upward, to waver and fade, and presently he drifted helplessly into the great smoke dome and was swallowed up in it.

Then, also, before the mighty heat that flowed from the Sword of Fire, the walls and dome of the vast smoke chamber, and the smoke wreaths upon the ground, were themselves dissolved, and Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch stood free in the Plain of Ash.

"Ah, my brave Prince! By your Sword of Fire, how gloriously you have conquered!" exclaimed the Shadow Witch, with sparkling eyes.

"Forget not the magic of my dear Lady of the Shadows," Prince Ember tenderly reminded her, "for without its aid this victory could scarcely have been won."

The Shadow Witch laughed sweetly. "On, on together, then," she cried.





CHAPTER XIII

With the perils of the Cave of Darkness left behind, with Curling Smoke vanquished and driven far off, the Shadow Witch was happy; and in her presence Prince Ember gave no thought for the moment to any further danger that might beset them.

Danger was not far distant. In the spot that he had chosen, the Ash Goblin worked fast and diligently upon the snare with which he meant to entrap Prince Ember, hoping that he might be able to complete it before the Prince arrived.

He could plainly see the Elf's house from where he labored. He believed the Prince to be still within its walls, and he was sure that none as yet had crossed its threshold. With his twisted hands he took from the long bag hidden beneath his cloak the evil ash, of which alone his snare could be made, and sifted it carefully over the ground. Meanwhile he repeated the words of enchantment written in his Book of Craft, which he believed would make certain the capture of Prince Ember, but he took good care to repeat them silently, lest any, coming upon him unawares, should overhear them and learn his secret. As the ash fell to the ground from his fingers, it spread and ran together to form a thin and web-like film, leaving no spot uncovered.

So treacherous was this snare, that if one but stepped upon its borders, he would become unable to release his feet from it and would be drawn helplessly to its centre. There the web would rise upon him from all sides with lightning swiftness to enmesh him and draw him down till he was fast bound in its folds, and there he must perish in his vain efforts to escape. This was the trap that the Ash Goblin was cunningly and silently preparing for Prince Ember, keeping watch in the meanwhile for him to approach. He kept himself close to the ground, concealed by the ashes around him, so like they were in color to his dingy robe, and the cap that covered his matted grizzled hair. Occasionally he chuckled to himself at the thought of the discomfiture which lay in store for Curling Smoke, that boastful giant, whom he believed to be lying in wait for the Prince near to the Wizard's Cave. Such confidence had the Ash Goblin in his snare that never for an instant did he believe that the Prince could escape it and come within reach of the giant's arms.

While he worked and exulted thus, he did not forget that in conquering Prince Ember, he would pay off, also, his old grudge against the Shadow Witch for her mockery of him.

The Shadow Witch, coming across the Plain of Ash with the Prince, safe-sheltered by the Cloak of the good Elf, had been sure that they were now safe from peril, when on a sudden it seemed as if a warning hand were laid upon her. She stopped and looked around her, but saw nothing.

Then, with piercing eyes, she scanned the Plain in front. At a considerable distance from her, bent over the ash, she espied a figure well-known to her—the Ash Goblin, intent upon some task. She suspected danger, and caught at the Prince's mantle, exclaiming beneath her breath, "The Ash Goblin! See, how stealthily he creeps along! Never does he venture so far from home unless he has evil plans afoot."

Prince Ember had forgotten the Ash Goblin, had forgotten the words of the Elf of the Borderland, but now they returned to him. "Beware of the Ash Goblin! He is small of stature, but he cannot safely be despised, for he is very cunning." He followed the pointing finger of the Shadow Witch, that he might behold this new enemy, but he strained his eyes in vain.

"I see nothing but the grey Plain that lies between us and the Elf's dwelling," he replied.

She laid her hand lightly upon his eyes for a moment, and by the magic of her touch made his vision more keen. "Look now," she urged, withdrawing her hand, "and you will see."

Prince Ember obeyed, and immediately he, too, beheld the ugly form of the Ash Goblin bending over his snare. "Yes, there he is," he said, "and I remember now how earnestly the Elf of the Borderland bade me be on my guard against his cunning."

"Ah, my Prince," the Shadow Witch responded, "you may well be on your guard. Though he knows the weakness of his body too well to dare to attack an enemy in fair and open fight, he is powerful in such craft as he can carry out in secret. Whether or not he is preparing a trap for us, I cannot tell. One thing is certain, we cannot choose but pass over the place where he is at work."

"Whatever may lie in wait for us there, my dear Shadow Witch," Prince Ember assured her, "we will meet it unafraid."

They went directly toward their foe. Nowhere did they see anything that spoke of danger until they were but a stone's throw from where the Ash Goblin knelt. There they stood still to scan his work, and beheld a delicate mesh, so thin and fine that it was well-nigh invisible, stretching away to right and left of him and in front of him.

The Shadow Witch, seeing, shrank back aghast. "It is the cunning web of the Ash Goblin!" she breathed. "None escapes destruction who sets foot within its bounds."

Before the Prince could answer, the Ash Goblin rose. He had put the final touch to his work. The last handful of his ash had been strewn, the last word of his spell had been pronounced, and weary with long bending over his work, he drew himself up slowly.

"A goodly snare, a goodly snare," they heard him mutter to himself. "Never yet has it failed me—no, nor ever shall, so long as I hold the secret of my evil ash, so long as I remember the words of my ancient spell."

He gloated over it for a moment in silence, and then continued: "To this snare the feet of Prince Ember must come. When he treads so much as its border he is lost, and when he is lost, the impudent Shadow Witch in her dungeon may await her brother's pleasure for her deliverance. Let her learn in good time, that it is the Ash Goblin, the Ash Goblin whom she has so often mocked, who has helped to keep her there." He wagged his head exultantly, and sank down again to conceal himself in the ashes, and there await unseen the coming of the Prince.

The Shadow Witch heard his words, and her cheek grew pale as ivory. She pressed her hands close together and looked into Prince Ember's face, her eyes full of pain. "Alas! my Prince," she whispered, "it grieves me that you should encounter so many perils for my sake! And here—ah, here, I am afraid that all your wondrous fairy power cannot suffice to break this wicked snare that has been set for you."

Prince Ember smiled. "Grieve not so, my Shadow Witch," he consoled her. "There is no danger that I would not meet gladly for your sake. Think not that I cannot here match magic with magic, and conquer, for there is no evil enchantment but must yield before the power of the good fairies of the Fire."

With quiet confidence he left the shelter of the Cloak of Ash, and in his hand was his fairy sword. It shone with a red glory.

The Ash Goblin, crouching upon the ground, keeping his eyes fixed upon the Elf's threshold, had heard no syllable that had been spoken, nor knew that anyone was near.

But now his staring eyes suddenly beheld the place about him suffused with scarlet light. He leapt to his feet, turning in swift amaze to learn from whence it came, and saw Prince Ember standing, with Sword extended like a bar of fire across his snare. From it streamed that heat, potent and overmastering, wherein its magic dwelt.

"Let the snare of the Ash Goblin perish before the power of the Sword of Fire!" exclaimed the Prince, and as he uttered the words the Ash Goblin saw the web that he had been at such pains to prepare, begin to shrivel and shrink away, and presently it had vanished completely from the surface of the Plain.

A frenzied shriek burst from the Ash Goblin at the sight of his work destroyed before his very eyes and by the one for whom the snare had been laid. Coward though he was, he would have rushed upon the Prince to attack him with all his puny strength, had not the heat which streamed from the Sword of Fire made his limbs powerless to stir from the spot where he lay hid, had not the glow which surrounded him become so intense that he was forced to bury his head in his cloak, lest his eyes should be blinded by it.

Crouching there, wrapped to the very crown of his head in his dingy cloak, he heard again the voice of Prince Ember.

"Depart quickly," commanded the Prince, "lest you be consumed in like manner as your evil snare."

Then the Ash Goblin rose and fled away in terror from the place where he had hoped to triumph, fled on and on, until he came to the threshold of his own hut. In desperate haste he undid the door, and rushing in, closed and barred it fast, to shut out the spell of the conquering Sword.





CHAPTER XIV

While Prince Ember had passed from place to place, everywhere meeting and conquering the perils that beset him and his companion, the Wind in the Chimney had not been unmindful of his promise to Black Shadow. On the contrary, he was only too willing to help the Wizard.

As soon as the Wizard's messenger had departed from him, he despatched a half dozen of his keenest and most agile Breezes to the Chimney Mouth to spy upon the Elf's house from thence, and bring him word at once the moment the Prince was seen to cross its threshold.

During the time, therefore, that the Imps had been keeping guard at the entrance to the Wizard's cavern, the Breezes, on their part, had been industriously looking across the Plain from the Chimney Mouth, but with no better fortune in the one case than in the other.

Once, it is true, they, like the Ash Goblin, had espied the Elf's door open slowly and remain so for a moment, and they had waited eagerly for the Prince to come forth, but no one had appeared, and presently the door had closed again and had remained fast shut ever since.

The Wind, sitting on his rough seat in the Chimney, began to chafe at the delay. He did not overlook the fact that the Breezes were merry fellows, and that, though they took no liberties while they were under his eye, and talked only in whispers among themselves when they perched in the Chimney nooks, they had only to be out of his sight to begin to whisk gaily about and dance and sing in the liveliest possible manner, so as to enjoy their freedom to the utmost.

He began to believe that even on this occasion, in spite of the strictness of his commands, they were amusing themselves after their usual fashion, and, becoming more and more careless and inattentive to their duty, had allowed Prince Ember to go on his way unobserved.

Leaning forward in his seat, he called down to them gruffly, demanding to know whether any sign had yet been seen of the stranger prince. When he received their answer, he was more than ever convinced of their negligence and gave orders that one of their number should go out and scour the Plain, to discover whether the Prince was anywhere about. But the one who had been sent returned to say that there was nothing to be seen but the yellow fog of Curling Smoke.

The Wind shrugged his great shoulders contemptuously. "The affairs of Curling Smoke do not interest me," he declared.

For a little longer he waited and then began to stir about impatiently upon his Chimney seat.

"Go out and search the Plain more carefully than was done by your fellow," he shouted to another of the Breezes. "It is quite impossible that the Prince should still be in the Elf's house."

Swift to obey his master, the second Breeze went forth, yet came back in a little while, declaring that he had seen no one but the Ash Goblin, bending over the ground as though intent upon some task.

"Bah!" exclaimed the Wind. "Why do you come to me with such news as that? What difference can it make to me what such a wretched creature as the Ash Goblin is doing? Let him amuse himself with his trifles as he pleases."

Thus rebuffed, his servant retreated shamefacedly to his post, and again the Wind waited.

Such a great length of time had passed since they had taken up their vigil at the Chimney Mouth, that the Breezes themselves were beginning to be uneasy, and to suspect that by means of some enchantment the Prince had actually escaped them.

Then they bethought them of the moment when the Elf's door had been seen to open and shut without anyone coming out of it, and they were troubled, and wondered whether they should, perhaps, have made the matter known to their master at the time.

Finally, one of their number, bolder than the rest, summoned up his courage and went and told the Wind of it.

"What!" shrieked the Wind, rising in a tempest of rage. "Can it be that you saw anything so important as this and brought me no word of it? Magic has been at work! This Prince has without doubt escaped me. Even at this instant he may be upon the Plain under the very eyes of my watchers!"

Hurling the messenger from him, the Wind rushed down to the Chimney Mouth. He buffeted to right and left the Breezes who stood there, and whirled out upon the Plain to see for himself whether or not what he suspected was true.

It so happened that Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch were crossing the Plain directly in front of the Chimney Mouth at that instant.

Then what the Elf of the Borderland had feared immediately came true. The keen eyes of the Wind pierced the spell of the Weaver elf. His rough blasts shattered it. Snatching the fairy Cloak from the shoulders of the travelers, he beat it quickly back into the loose ashes of which it had been woven, and drove them off and away into the wide spaces of the Borderland, there to settle down at last wherever they would.

Thus were Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch revealed to the gaze of their most powerful enemy.

The Prince needed none to tell him who this new foe was, nor did he quail at sight of him, though he knew that he might well fear for his companion and himself. Quickly he thrust the Shadow Witch behind him, and with his Sword of Fire in his hand awaited his coming.

With a loud howl the Wind was upon them. Against this terrific onset the Prince held firm, and as the Wind dashed himself upon the Sword, thinking to wrest that from him, also, it leapt to life, a broad and beauteous sheet of scarlet flame, that rose in an ascending barrier high and yet higher at every buffet that it sustained. The more the Wind flung himself upon it in fury, the greater it waxed in power and brilliance, the stronger the heat that flowed from it in mighty waves.

Cowed by it, the Wind retreated for a moment, but seeing that the flame waned when he did so, he took fresh courage and raged against it once more. Yet quite in vain. Wielding his Sword with steady hand, protected by its wall of leaping fire, its rampart of glowing heat, the Prince met him at every turn dauntless and unharmed.

Still farther back stood the Shadow Witch, her tall form swaying in the blasts of the Wind. At his advance her black hair streamed behind her like a cloud; her grey garments and long grey sleeves, illumined by the red glory of the Sword, billowed round her like floating banners. Through the fierceness of the fight her voice was heard cheering the Prince sweetly, that his courage might not fail.

So the battle raged: on the one side with unavailing fury, wild shouts, insolent boasting, and slowly wasting strength; on the other hand with steadfast courage, quietness and undimmed confidence.

For long the Wind could not believe it possible that he would be vanquished, but gradually he was convinced that the foe whom he had despised was invincible. Humiliated and sullen, he determined to give up the losing fight. With one last shriek of rage and discomfiture, that rang out to the farthest confines of the Plain and echoed across the Borderland, he fled back in haste to the Chimney, and hurled himself into its depths.

Prince Ember put up his Sword. The Shadow Witch stole to his side to thank him for this new deliverance, but her exceeding gratitude made her dumb. She could only lay her hands in his, and look into his beloved face in silence.

Knowing what was in her heart, Prince Ember bent to her. "Dear Lady of the Shadows," he said, "to serve you is my highest joy. And now there is no other enemy left for us to dread. I have but to lead you home."





CHAPTER XV

With what happiness Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch resumed their journey! All the way before them seemed a way of brightness, though it led across a Plain as grey and desolate as it had been before; but they knew that no perils lay in wait for them, and that every step led them safely on.

While the Shadow Witch talked gaily with the Prince, she turned to him a face as radiant as though a light shone through it from within. Ever and again her laughter rang out low and clear, not the echoing, mocking laughter, known so well to the evil fairies of that land, but a laugh of rippling music, as if all sweet sounds, all gentle whisperings of the fire were caught up and gathered into it. The Prince listened to it with keen delight. Of all the notes of gladness that he had ever heard, it was to him the loveliest; and she herself, gliding tall and beautiful beside him, he could never tire of gazing upon.

They came at last to the Land of Shadows. Its pale trees and gardens lay before them, and in the distance they saw the Palace of Shadows lifting its grey towers against the sky.

They had spoken less and less frequently as they drew near it, and the laughter of the Shadow Witch had ceased, for her heart had grown heavy, and her mind was filled with troubled thoughts. Soon Prince Ember would leave her to return to his own home in that fair land which she so much longed to behold. He had left it to come to her deliverance, and at first sight of him she had known that her heart's love could never be given to anyone but him. That he loved her in return, she did not doubt. His eyes had said it, the tones of his voice had revealed it a hundred times. Had he not called her more than once his "dear Shadow Witch," and given himself to danger for her sake again and again?

Yet he said no word of taking her home with him—of making her his bride; and so her eyes were sad, and her heart was full of pain at the thought of the parting which was now so near at hand. She did not dare to speak, lest her grief should break forth uncontrolled.

Who was she, she told herself, the mischievous Shadow Witch, a creature of grey magic, to be the bride of such a one as this bright, this glorious Prince, whose magic was all noble, whose land was all joy and brightness? In her mind she had no picture of that land. She had seen only Prince Radiance and his White Flame and this Prince Ember, yet she could guess from these, its bright inhabitants, how marvelous the Land of Fire must be.

She bowed her head humbly as she thought of it. Its greatest glory, its noblest Prince could never be for her but she was determined that when he had gone from her, she would forsake her own home and would seek the confines at least of the Land of Fire, and there live in a little of its brightness—there learn what she could of its good magic. This much she must do, for her old life, her old ways, were now more than ever intolerable to her.

Prince Ember, seeing her silent, guessed nothing of her thoughts. To him she was most dear and beautiful, the only one whom he could ever wish to win.

They had reached the foot of her garden, and the Prince stood still. The Shadow Witch paused also, and waited in silence.

Prince Ember took her hand and kissed it. "Lady of the Shadows," he said, "we have come at last to your domain in safety."

The Shadow Witch caught her breath painfully, for she felt that the moment of farewell had come. It was as if she could not bear it.

The Prince drew yet nearer. "Dear Shadow Witch," he whispered, "I cannot leave you, so do I love you, yet I cannot stay with you here in this grey land. Go with me, then, to my own bright country. Go with me, there to be my bride and princess."

No answering words rose to the lips of the Shadow Witch. Her face was turned away, and her eyes hidden. But a moment since she had been silent because of overmastering sadness. Now, for very joy, she was dumb. In her humility she dared not grasp at once at the happiness held out to her.

The Prince leaned to her in fear, lest he should have been mistaken, lest perhaps she did not love him as he had hoped and believed. "Speak," he besought her. "Ah, speak, my dearest. How can I go without you? How can I leave you in this land—a land too sad and grey for such a one as you? All the brightness of my own country is without meaning for me henceforth, if I have not you to share it with me as my heart's true love."

Wooed thus, the Shadow Witch hesitated no longer. She turned to him in a flood of love and longing. She stretched her hands to him, trembling with the fulness of her joy, and her voice came again. "Prince of my heart," she murmured softly. "Most dear and glorious Prince, where could my home be ever, if not with you?"

Prince Ember caught her to his heart, and silence fell once more between them.

For a little while they tarried in the borders of the garden, clinging to each other in their first great joy, and the dim alleys and dusky trees took on a brightness till now unknown to them from these two figures radiant with a pure and innocent love.

At last the Shadow Witch remembered all that she must leave behind. "Listen," she said, and her voice was very gentle, "I have been long gone, and my servants still wait for their mistress. They love me and are faithful. They will mourn for me when I have left them—Creeping Shadow most of all. I must bid them farewell and tell them why it is that I depart from them to return no more."

So they left the confines of the garden and turned their steps toward the Palace of Shadows. They had not yet reached it, when its mistress saw a pale figure approaching through the tall shrubs that lined their way.

It was Creeping Shadow, stealing sadly along the paths once dear to her mistress, thinking of Prince Ember who had promised succor, a promise which she had begun to fear he had not been able to keep. "Alas! what hope could there be after all?" she thought, "that this Prince should be able, single-handed, to meet and conquer such powerful enemies as the Wizard, and his many evil friends?" She shook her head doubtfully, yet even as she did so she lifted her eyes to look once more along the familiar path by which she had hoped her mistress might return.

"See," exclaimed the Shadow Witch to her lover. "She comes, my good and faithful servant, still seeking, still hoping!"

At that moment Creeping Shadow saw her and gave a loud cry that rang through the spaces and reached even to the palace halls. She rushed to throw herself at the feet of her mistress, to clasp her knees in an ecstasy of thankfulness and rejoicing. "Mistress, dear mistress!" she exclaimed, "At last, at last, you are here!"

And now from the palace doors and from everywhere, the Shadows came gliding swiftly, to burst into exclamations of joy when they saw, in their turn, who it was that had come.

Among them came the traitor, Black Shadow, hastening to learn whether what she had believed to be impossible, had, in spite of her treachery, been brought to pass. She saw Prince Ember and her mistress surrounded by the welcoming Shadows, saw that her plots had been in vain.

She would have turned at once to flee to the Wizard, to make known to him what had happened, had she not been arrested by the voice of her mistress speaking strange words, words such as she had never thought to hear.

"I have come to show you that I am set free," said the Shadow Witch, "have come, also, to bid you, my loyal servants, farewell."

A murmur of astonishment went up from the listening Shadows. What could such words mean?

The Shadow Witch continued. "I have found light and joy and true happiness by the side of this good Prince, and I can no longer pass my days in this grey land of mine with its grey magic." She would have spoken further, but a burst of sorrow interrupted her. With one accord her servants swayed mournfully, and with sobs and cries, cast themselves at her feet.

She looked upon them with love and compassion. What could she do for them, these faithful friends and servants, whom she must leave if she followed her dear Prince? Go she must, but what could she say to comfort them? A thrill of pain went through her heart, tempering her exceeding joy in her new-found happiness.

Prince Ember came to her help. "The light and gladness of the Land of Fire is forbidden to none who are true and faithful," he proclaimed. "Let all, then, who love their mistress, follow her to her new home, if it is their wish."

At these words, so comfort-bringing, the Shadow Witch turned upon her Prince a glance of tenderest gratitude. The Shadows, hearing them, were lifted at once from deep grief to boundless rejoicing. They rose to their feet, their grey robes all a-flutter. "Ah, generous Prince," they cried, "we follow, follow—happy indeed to be her faithful servants still."

All but Black Shadow. She alone had given no cry of grief, she alone had shown no sign of joy. She had prostrated herself with the rest at the feet of the Shadow Witch, and had bowed her head, but merely to conceal the anger which she felt at the sight of her mistress safe returned. No sound passed her lips now. She was glad to hear of the coming departure, but that gladness, also, she would restrain. Until her mistress had gone, she would keep her own counsel, hide her own purposes, so that she might fulfil them in her own time and in her own way.

She had not long to wait, for Prince Ember's voice, clear and gracious, rose once more. "Let us not tarry. My bright kingdom awaits its Prince, who has been long absent. Its good fairies will rejoice to welcome not him alone, but his bride and her devoted followers."

So saying he took the hand of the Shadow Witch, and together they left the Garden of Shadows, and set out for the Land of Fire. Behind them trooped the Shadows, eager to behold for themselves that beauteous fairyland which was henceforth to be their home. But Black Shadow was not among them. As soon as Prince Ember had ceased to speak, she had slipped quietly away.

The Shadow Witch had noticed her absence and presently, turning to see what had become of her, saw a dark figure hurrying toward the Wizard's Cave. It was Black Shadow. A smile of understanding dawned upon the face of the Shadow Witch. She said no word, but she guessed the treacherous part that her servant had already played, and what she now meant to do. "Let her go her way," she thought. "She can harm us no more."

Meanwhile Prince Ember was thinking of his great debt to the Elf. It was in his mind to stop at his dwelling, as they passed through the Borderland, and thank him for the service which the Cloak of Ash had rendered. But he had no need, for the Elf, espying the travelers from afar, came to meet them. He gave them warm greeting and listened intently while Prince Ember told him all that had befallen them and whither they now were bound.

"Alas, for your marvelous Cloak!" the Prince said regretfully in closing. "When the Wind tore it from me he resolved it to ashes and scattered it far and wide."

The Elf smiled. "That does not surprise me. You know that I told you something of what might come to pass. Forget not, however, that the secret of its weaving still dwells with the elves of the Borderland, who will never refuse to provide another if need arises."

He stretched his pudgy hand to the Shadow Witch, who caught it gratefully in both her own. "Ah, good and kind friend!" she cried, "What do I not owe to your faithful friendship!"

"As to that," responded the Elf heartily, looking into her lovely face, "I am already well rewarded by seeing you restored to liberty, and in knowing of the happiness which is to be yours."

Then their farewells were spoken, and the Elf stood watching them till they vanished from his sight.

In the meantime, Black Shadow had reached the Cave of Darkness, and there she found the Imps still at the entrance. They had awakened and were now rubbing their eyes confusedly and whispering to each other their fears concerning what might have happened while they had slept.

"Little need have you now to guard this Cave mouth," Black Shadow flung at them as she passed. "The Prince, whose entrance it was your duty to prevent, has long since come and gone, taking with him the Shadow Witch."

She did not stay to reply to their frightened and excited questions, but sped straight to the Cave Hall.

There she found the Wizard sitting upright in his chair, though he looked pale and exhausted. He was surrounded by the Imps who had been imprisoned in the vaulted chamber, and who, when the Shadow Witch had reached her own land and the spell of the Sword of Fire had been lifted, had heard their master's voice calling to them for help. They had come in trembling haste, and found him limp and prostrate on the floor, but with their help, he had at last been enabled to rise slowly and go to his accustomed seat.

"Sir Wizard!" cried Black Shadow, addressing him without ceremony, "the stranger prince has everywhere prevailed! Curling Smoke is scattered! The Ash Goblin is defeated! The Wind in the Chimney has been put to naught! And now, Prince Ember has departed to the Land of Fire, taking with him your sister to make her his bride. With her went all her servants, the Shadows."

"Let them go," snarled the Wizard, scowling fiercely upon her. "I care not what becomes of them, so that they return no more to trouble me."

"And I," continued Black Shadow, "have come to say that I mean to take your sister's domain for myself, and choose companions to occupy it with me who will obey my commands."

"Do what you will," he retorted impatiently, "so that you, too, go from me, and leave me in peace."

Black Shadow needed no second bidding, but left the Wizard there, with his Imps clustered about him, while she departed in haste to carry out her long cherished plans.





CHAPTER XVI

In King Red Flame's garden it was brilliant noonday. The trees waved their branches to a cloudless sky, the flowers lifted their beauteous heads in a clear and golden light. Through the blossoming shrubs, the towers and walls of the Palace of Burning Coals glistened in fullest splendor. Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch approaching, beheld them shining as if in welcome. The band of Shadows caught their breath in wonder at the glorious sight.

Within the palace sat King Red Flame on his jeweled throne, listening to his daughter, the Princess, as she sang the songs he loved. Prince Radiance, close beside her, listened also. He could never tire of that exquisite voice, which, from the first hour that he had heard it, had enchanted his ear, and enchained his heart. The Fire Fairies, busy in palace and garden, paused now and then to catch the floating strains, for their Princess was unspeakably dear to them, and her singing stirred them always to deep delight. Rushing Flame, the King's messenger, poised alertly at the palace gate in readiness to leap forth on any errand for his master, strained his ear, that he, too, might miss no note of her song.

Suddenly, from below the palace windows, the sound of many feet was heard, and the air was rent by shouts of welcome.

The Princess broke off her song. With one accord the royal company started to their feet, certain that naught but the return of Prince Ember could cause so great a tumult. At that very instant the scarlet figure of Rushing Flame appeared before them, proclaiming, "Your Majesty the King, Prince Ember has returned."

While he was yet speaking, Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch entered the palace hall. Close after them glided the band of Shadows, and accompanying them came the Wise One, kind old Grey Smoke and a multitude of Fire Fairies, who had come quickly together from everywhere, eager to have a part in greeting the unknown guests, and to hear the adventures of the brave young Prince.

With a lover's pride, Prince Ember led his beloved to the King. Never had the Shadow Witch looked more beautiful. Her ebon hair fell like a rich cloak over her grey robes; her cheek was mantled by a crimson flush; her dark eyes gleamed with a soft radiance.

King Red Flame, won by the first glimpse of this lovely stranger, forgot his state and went to meet her. Without waiting for his nephew to make her known, he drew her to himself in cordial greeting. "Welcome fair Princess of the Shadows," he said, "and welcome, also, to your train." Then to his nephew he turned in deep affection. "Welcome, dear Ember, thrice welcome. Long have we waited and anxiously hoped for your safe return."

"Welcome, welcome," cried Prince Radiance heartily, coming to clasp hands with the Prince and his companion in his turn. Right glad was he to see his good friends once more.

The gentle Princess White Flame, thinking of what she must have endured, took the Shadow Witch to her arms and kissed her as a sister might.

Then did the King demand to know the story of their adventures, and a deep hush fell over the assemblage while Prince Ember related everything, from first to last, that had befallen them. Of all who listened with deep interest and earnest sympathy, only Prince Radiance and Princess White Flame, who themselves had once journeyed in that far-off land and had met its perils, could fully understand how great the task of Prince Ember had been.

The Wise One, hearing how his own gifts and his advice concerning the Elf of the Borderland had been the means of bringing them safely through all the dangers that had threatened them, smiled and nodded his head approvingly, as was his wont.

When, in conclusion, Prince Ember made known that he had won the love of the Shadow Witch, and that she had consented to become his Princess, King Red Flame was greatly pleased that the Prince had found so fair a mate and gave command that the wedding should take place forthwith.

In haste, then, the wedding feast was prepared. Dame Grey Smoke herself saw to it that it lacked no splendor that fairy hands or fairy skill could devise. The Wise One gave sage advice and from his treasure chest brought gifts, ancient and rare. The Fire Fairies vied with one another in their loving task of making all things ready, and among them moved the Shadows, their faces reflecting the joy of their mistress, their hearts filled with wonder and delight at the beauty and goodness of this new fairyland into which they had come to dwell. The Fire Fairies showed them every kindness, so that they might feel at home in a country where all things were strange to them.

So, in the Palace of Burning Coals, Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch were married, and King Red Flame himself gave the bride away.

When the wedding feast with its splendors was ended, the Prince led his bride home to his Palace of Good Cheer.



His own fairies stood to welcome them. On the high golden gate that overarched the entrance to his dominions three great marriage torches were set, that lifted their quenchless flames upward with pure and golden light.

As Prince Ember advanced with the Shadow Witch through that bright gate, she became transformed, for all grey forsook her trailing robes forever and left them robes of glory, robes of rose and amethyst and richest scarlet in their changing hues. The garments of her attendant Shadows changed, also, and became a soft reflection of the fuller loveliness of her own.

They came on through the shining avenue, amid the welcoming shouts of the Ember Fairies and reached the Palace of Good Cheer. From every turret flaming banners floated, from every window ruddy light beamed out.

At its wide open door Prince Ember bent and kissed his bride tenderly. "Enter, dear Shadow Witch," he whispered low. "Enter, and crown my life with the priceless treasure of your love."

Her face alight with happiness, she passed in with him. She had come at last, with her beloved Prince, to the fairyland of good magic—to the land of her heart's desire.



Uniform with this Volume

PRINCESS WHITE-FLAME

By GERTRUDE CROWNFIELD

Illustrated by ANNE MERRIMAN PECK

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY



[Transcriber's Note: The ad has been moved from the beginning of the book to the end. The table below lists all corrections applied to the original text.

p. 009: [normalized] the Chief Imp bore himself humbly to-day -> today p. 049: [added closing quotes] with all her magic power gone?" p. 106: [added period] Beware, therefore, of the Ash Goblin. p. 175: sank down helpess -> helpless p. 176: the Prince advanced rapidy -> rapidly p. 229: Go with we, there to be my bride -> me p. 237: [normalized] that beauteous fairy-land -> fairyland p. 243: [normalized] it was brilliant noon-day -> noonday p. 248: to become his Princess. King -> Princess, King p. 253: "Enter, dear Shadow Witch," he whisered low. -> whispered ]

THE END