reproachfully. "I don't take naps."
The dwarf woman opened her eyes
again. They snapped at him commandingly. Catspaw had known that she'd been
Father's nurse, and he'd always wondered how such a little woman could
make such
a big man behave. Now he understood.
"Marak, come here," she
ordered him sharply, and Catspaw put down his
ball and came. "Climb up, then," she said, pulling him into
her arms. The young prince sat in the dwarf woman's lap and looked at her. He twined his arms around her neck.
It finally dawned on him that she was
the one who was tired. This struck him as a huge joke.
"You're not
my nurse, Agatha." He giggled. "Nana's my nurse."
Those eyes
snapped and sparkled at him fiercely. "I have always been your nurse, Marak!" Then she softened at the hurt
look on his face.
"Now,
dear, take your nap," she muttered, tucking his head onto her shoulder and his legs across her lap. Catspaw blinked
at the side of her face in surprise. He didn't
know what to do. But there was nothing to do. Til wouldn't play with him
anymore, and his aunt Emily was gone. He
closed his eyes. Agatha held him and looked off into the distance,
feeling him relax into sleep. Then she closed her own eyes with a sigh.
"And that is how the goblin King
found them when he came to fetch his son, the young and the old nestled
together in each other's arms. Marak knelt
by the chair for a long time, just looking at them. They were resting so
quietly, their faces so peaceful. But only one of them was asleep.
Chapter Five
"It's such a
creepy place," remarked Emily, peering up at the tall trees. "I never
knew that a lovely thing could be frightening."
"It's full
of memories." The squirrel on her shoulder gave a tiny sigh.
"Some of them are unhappy ones."
The forest was
very, very old. Many of the trees were mossy and enormous. But, unlike a
regular forest, this place had no broken, rot ting
trunks, fallen limbs, or blasted branches. Autumn had come, and trees unknown to Emily were covered with red
and gold leaves, but a carpet of
green turf and bracken covered the ground, and tiny flowers nodded at
their feet. Birds sang quietly in the distance.
"It isn't natural," said
Emily suspiciously. "A forest can't look like this."
"The elves built this forest,
just as the dwarves built the goblin caves,"
lectured the squirrel. "They made it as beautiful as they were. They
worked with living things, not stone or brick, and their tools were spells.
Many of those spells still hold force."
"Where are the spells against
us?" muttered Emily. The place didn't feel friendly.
"The Border
Spell used to keep your people out entirely, and only a
handful of the most powerful goblins could get through. They crossed the border one at a time, vulnerable to
patrolling elves. But that spell was the first thing to go, even before
the last elf King's death."
Day after day,
Emily walked through the glorious wood, wading through
clear streams and crossing short-cropped meadows. Ruby called these dancing
fields. Deer grazed there even in the full light of day.
Once, the young woman stopped short
in surprise. "I thought I saw a sheep," she said. "It ran
between those trees."
"Sheep have always lived in
these woods," replied the teacher, and Emily didn't ask why.
One afternoon,
they came to a deep fold in the hills. The trees in this
narrow valley were widely spaced and colossal. One great pine towered two
hundred feet into the air. It stood in a half-circle of old holly trees.
"Em!" For once, the
annoying squirrel's voice was hushed and gentle. "Look at that! We've
found the elf King's winter camp. He used
to hold court under that pine, and all the lords and ladies of the King's
Camp danced on the smooth lawn below it."
They stopped to
have lunch, but neither could eat. The beautiful valley
lay dreaming under a spell of its own. Without meaning to, they lingered. Emily napped, and the squirrel
climbed to the very top of the huge pine. As twilight fell, Emily
strolled
The dwarf woman opened her eyes
again. They snapped at him commandingly. Catspaw had known that she'd been
Father's nurse, and he'd always wondered how such a little woman could
make such
a big man behave. Now he understood.
"Marak, come here," she
ordered him sharply, and Catspaw put down his
ball and came. "Climb up, then," she said, pulling him into
her arms. The young prince sat in the dwarf woman's lap and looked at her. He twined his arms around her neck.
It finally dawned on him that she was
the one who was tired. This struck him as a huge joke.
"You're not
my nurse, Agatha." He giggled. "Nana's my nurse."
Those eyes
snapped and sparkled at him fiercely. "I have always been your nurse, Marak!" Then she softened at the hurt
look on his face.
"Now,
dear, take your nap," she muttered, tucking his head onto her shoulder and his legs across her lap. Catspaw blinked
at the side of her face in surprise. He didn't
know what to do. But there was nothing to do. Til wouldn't play with him
anymore, and his aunt Emily was gone. He
closed his eyes. Agatha held him and looked off into the distance,
feeling him relax into sleep. Then she closed her own eyes with a sigh.
"And that is how the goblin King
found them when he came to fetch his son, the young and the old nestled
together in each other's arms. Marak knelt
by the chair for a long time, just looking at them. They were resting so
quietly, their faces so peaceful. But only one of them was asleep.
Chapter Five
"It's such a
creepy place," remarked Emily, peering up at the tall trees. "I never
knew that a lovely thing could be frightening."
"It's full
of memories." The squirrel on her shoulder gave a tiny sigh.
"Some of them are unhappy ones."
The forest was
very, very old. Many of the trees were mossy and enormous. But, unlike a
regular forest, this place had no broken, rot ting
trunks, fallen limbs, or blasted branches. Autumn had come, and trees unknown to Emily were covered with red
and gold leaves, but a carpet of
green turf and bracken covered the ground, and tiny flowers nodded at
their feet. Birds sang quietly in the distance.
"It isn't natural," said
Emily suspiciously. "A forest can't look like this."
"The elves built this forest,
just as the dwarves built the goblin caves,"
lectured the squirrel. "They made it as beautiful as they were. They
worked with living things, not stone or brick, and their tools were spells.
Many of those spells still hold force."
"Where are the spells against
us?" muttered Emily. The place didn't feel friendly.
"The Border
Spell used to keep your people out entirely, and only a
handful of the most powerful goblins could get through. They crossed the border one at a time, vulnerable to
patrolling elves. But that spell was the first thing to go, even before
the last elf King's death."
Day after day,
Emily walked through the glorious wood, wading through
clear streams and crossing short-cropped meadows. Ruby called these dancing
fields. Deer grazed there even in the full light of day.
Once, the young woman stopped short
in surprise. "I thought I saw a sheep," she said. "It ran
between those trees."
"Sheep have always lived in
these woods," replied the teacher, and Emily didn't ask why.
One afternoon,
they came to a deep fold in the hills. The trees in this
narrow valley were widely spaced and colossal. One great pine towered two
hundred feet into the air. It stood in a half-circle of old holly trees.
"Em!" For once, the
annoying squirrel's voice was hushed and gentle. "Look at that! We've
found the elf King's winter camp. He used
to hold court under that pine, and all the lords and ladies of the King's
Camp danced on the smooth lawn below it."
They stopped to
have lunch, but neither could eat. The beautiful valley
lay dreaming under a spell of its own. Without meaning to, they lingered. Emily napped, and the squirrel
climbed to the very top of the huge pine. As twilight fell, Emily
strolled
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