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I. One year
Cimorene was crying. Morwen poured two cups of tea and sat down across the table from the Queen of the Enchanted Forest.
“You need to do something about this,” the witch said in her best stern voice. She stirred her tea and pushed the sugar bowl across to Cimorene.
Cimorene sniffed.
“It won’t do,” Morwen continued. “And it’s not at all like you.”
Cimorene pushed the sugar bowl away.
“If you don’t stop crying,” Morwen said, “I’ll tell Kazul.”
Cimorene stopped crying.
“Good,” the witch said. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to Cimorene. “Now then. There are one or two spells I can try that might help you.”
Cimorene blew her nose and shook her head at the same time. “We’ve tried everything. You know that. I really don’t think we’re going to get into the castle until Daystar is old enough to use the sword.”
“I don’t mean spells to get into the castle. I mean spells to help you while you wait.”
Morwen insisted that Cimorene finish her tea before they tried any spells. When Cimorene had drained the last drop from her teacup, Morwen went to the back door and frowned for a moment before turning the knob.
Cimorene found herself in a room she had never visited before. She was familiar with Morwen’s library and had had occasion to become acquainted with the pantry, laundry, and lavatory as well, but this room was bigger than all the others put together, an airy expanse of polished wooden floors and bright windows. The shelves lining the walls were filled with bottles, jars, and pots that reminded Cimorene of some of Kazul’s treasure collection. She trusted Morwen’s common sense, but all the same she gave each of the jars a careful look, checking for lead stoppers. She had no wish to unleash another genie into her life; for one thing, she didn’t think she needed any more complications at the moment.
Morwen removed a large bowl from one of the shelves and instructed Cimorene to stand in the middle of the floor and close her eyes. “Don’t sneeze,” she said.
Cimorene’s eyes popped open. “Don’t sneeze?”
“Eyes closed. And don’t sneeze.”
Cimorene heard the clatter of glass against glass and the splash of liquid; Morwen must be mixing something in the bowl. A strong feeling of magic curled around Cimorene, and a spicy aroma filled the room, reminiscent of gingerbread and white pepper. Cimorene’s nose tickled. She drew a breath.
“I said don’t,” Morwen said.
Cimorene laughed. It felt like the first time in a very long time. “I won’t,” she assured her friend. “But will you tell me what you’re doing?”
There was a long, slightly embarrassed pause. Cimorene very nearly opened her eyes. Morwen was never embarrassed.
Finally Morwen said, “Telemain said it was theoretically possible.”
“What was theoretically possible?”
“I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea to pursue it.” Morwen coughed. “I may have spoken too soon. It might be a good idea, at that. But I, ah, told him it would be silly to pursue it -- ”
“ -- And now you are.” Cimorene laughed again. “I promise I won’t tell him. But what is it?”
Morwen sighed. “Telemain thinks there may be a way for you to communicate with Mendanbar, even while he’s trapped inside the castle. He said he didn’t know of a way, but based on the principles of the magical spell surrounding the castle, he thinks that there ought to be one. His vocabulary was considerably more involved while he described his thought process to me, but I believe that was the general idea.” She paused, and then continued in her best no-nonsense tone, “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but if you’re reduced to tears, then clearly something must be done.”
“How are you going to help me communicate with him?” Cimorene asked. She tried to keep her voice steady, but she could hear a hopeful inflection in her tone.
“I thought perhaps a trance,” Morwen said. “That’s why it’s very important for you to keep your eyes closed. I’m going to mix up a few things and let it steam up the room. You’ll go into a trance and possibly -- possibly -- be able to reach out to Mendanbar.”
As she spoke, the scent of gingerbread grew stronger. Cimorene could feel her head swimming even as her senses seemed to sharpen. She heard Morwen’s voice echoing in her head. “Breathe deeply,” the witch was saying, “and try to reach out to him.”
Cimorene breathed in steamy, spicy air and let her mind float. She tried to focus her mind, imagining her thoughts as strands the way Mendanbar described the threads of magic in the Enchanted Forest. She thought about her thoughts and Mendanbar’s thoughts connecting. She thought and thought and thought.
The gingerbread scent receded and Cimorene’s eyes popped open of their own accord. Morwen stood in front of her, a slight, anxious frown creasing the other woman’s forehead. “Well?”
Cimorene shook her head. “Thank you for trying,” she said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “But I think you were right the first time. It’s probably best not to get our hopes up.”
When they emerged from Morwen’s workroom, Daystar was still sleeping next to the kitchen fire where they had left him, watched over by no fewer than three cats. He stirred and began to cry when Cimorene picked him up. She bounced him gently as she said goodbye to the witch, thanked the cats for watching the baby, and left Morwen’s house.
He was still crying half an hour later as they left the Enchanted Forest and came within sight of the cottage where she had made their new home. She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “I feel the same way,” she said. “But we’re both going to have to learn to cope with it.”
She went to bed soon after Daystar fell asleep that night. She carefully banked the fire, drew the shutters, and locked the door. There was not very much to do to make the small cottage ready for the night. Sighing, she climbed into bed and drew the quilt over herself.
She dreamed that she was in the Enchanted Forest, sitting next to the Green Glass Pool. It began to rain, softly at first and then harder, but she didn’t move from the rocks that edged the pool. She knew the sensible thing would be to find shelter until the rain passed, but she felt strangely indifferent. After a time the rain slackened and one or two birds began to chirp in a hopeful manner. Cimorene’s hair and dress were soaking wet, and a few drops of water ran off the tip of her nose. Still she sat on the rocks by the Green Glass Pool.
After what may have been a few minutes or several hours she looked up and caught sight of Mendanbar. He was standing on the opposite side of the pool, watching her. “Oh, there you are,” she said. “Where have you been?”
He shook his head, frowning a little.
“Oh, bother. I suppose you can’t hear me.”
He gestured.
“You want me to come around to your side? I’m not sure I can do that. For one thing, I can’t seem to move from where I’m sitting. I suppose I’ll just have stay here for now.”
Mendanbar reached out and twitched something, the way his fingers always flicked when he was manipulating the threads of power that crisscrossed the Enchanted Forest. Cimorene stretched her legs and stood up, suddenly able to move again. “That’s much better. Thank you.”
She began to walk around the rim of the pool. It seemed to have grown bigger than she remembered. After quite a while she sat down to catch her breath. Mendanbar still stood, unmoving, on the opposite side from her.
Cimorene sighed. “It’s no use,” she said. “I’m not going to be able to make it around to your side.”
Mendanbar frowned again and reached out both hands in a gathering motion before he clenched his fists and began to pull on something invisible. His jaw was set and his shoulders strained against an invisible weight. Finally Cimorene heard a loud pop and he dropped his hands, flexing his fingers. He gestured again.
She stood up and began to walk once more. The pool seemed much more reasonably sized now. In quite a short time, she was only a few yards away from him. He grinned and held out his arms to her.
When she woke up she was breathing quickly, as if she had been running. She was smiling, and for a minute she lay staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Daystar’s whimpers brought her to her senses, and she slowly stood up and crossed the room to his cradle. Morning light filtered through the shutters and Daystar’s whimpers were turning to wails. She leaned down to pick him up, balancing him on one hip while she turned to the fire and began to see about breakfast.
II. Eight years
“...I didn’t like to mention it to you before,” Telemain was saying, “but I’ve been giving the matter some thought and I remain convinced that there are certain physical and temporal aspects to the enchantment that are conducive to the type of dual-communicative spell I have in mind. I’ve been considering the best conduit of this specific spell and I finally decided that, on the principle that often the simplest is the best, perhaps our old standby -- ”
Morwen snorted. “The simplest is the best? Telemain, if you believed that, you would use much more simpler words.”
Telemain frowned. “I am using precise words, Morwen.” He turned back to Cimorene. “As I was saying, based on my previous analysis -- ”
“Get to the point, Telemain,” Morwen advised.
“A mirror,” Telemain said. “I enchanted a mirror. I thought you might try to speak to Mendanbar through it.”
“Oh, very good!” Morwen bestowed a smile upon him.
Telemain blinked. “Do you think so? I must warn you, I’m not at all sure it will work.”
“It probably won’t work,” Morwen said. “I meant your sentence was very good.”
Telemain turned to Cimorene. “Would you like to try it?” He glanced at Morwen and raised an eyebrow. “Note my words of one syllable. I do know some of those.”
Cimorene laughed, but her voice sounded a little constrained. “It’s worth a try, I suppose,” she said slowly.
“Excellent,” Telemain said in a satisfied tone. “I have the mirror set up at my tower. Shall we go?”
“Well, we might as well, but I can’t take very long. I need to be home before dinnertime. Daystar is helping the farmers with the haymaking, but I don’t want to be out when he gets back.” She glanced at Morwen. “Would you like to come?”
“Of course.” Before she could say more, Morwen’s attention was caught by the gray cat that was twining around her ankles. “Yes, we did try mirrors,” she remarked. “In fact, we tried them before we even knew Mendanbar was trapped, and we couldn’t get a line through. However, I assume Telemain isn’t so silly to forget that fact and that he has changed the spell enough to make it worth another try.”
The cat sat down and began to vigorously wash itself.
“I agree,” Morwen said, still addressing the cat.
Telemain shot her a suspicious look. “Agree with what?”
“Nothing,” the witch said firmly, but her mouth twitched as she removed her gaze from the cat.
“All right,” Cimorene said. “Let’s go.”
The mirror looked like quite an ordinary mirror. Cimorene stared into it. Her face stared back at her.
“Right,” the magician said. He cleared his throat. “King of the Enchanted Forest, please.”
Nothing happened.
“Bother,” Telemain muttered. He murmured a few more words and smacked the mirror sharply across the top of its frame.
The mirror clouded over. “You try it this time,” Telemain said in encouraging tones. He gestured to Cimorene.
“Er,” she said. “Mendanbar? Are you there?”
The fog in the mirror shifted and darkened.
“Hello?” Cimorene said.
The clouds cleared and her face stared back at her once more.
“Oh,” Telemain said. “I didn’t expect that.” He scratched his nose. “I don’t understand it. The limiting properties of the enchantment don’t implicitly prohibit communication, and yet our attempts have been manifestly unsuccessful. The theoretical possibility remains, and yet -- ”
“What he means to say,” Morwen interpreted, “is that it should work, but it doesn’t.”
Daystar spent dinnertime discussing the finer points of haymaking. He continued to discuss various agricultural topics throughout his bath and as she tucked him into bed at night. He was still mumbling a little as he drifted off to sleep.
Cimorene sank into her chair in front of the fire and closed her eyes. The dishes were stacked in the sink and she had neglected to sweep the floor before she had left to see Morwen and Telemain earlier in the day, but the fire was warm and she was tired.
There were three frogs sitting on the rocks beside the Green Glass Pool when Cimorene arrived there. She sat down beside them, nodded a friendly greeting, and waited.
She saw Mendanbar after a few moments, walking up to the pool on the opposite side. She rose to her feet and went to join him.
He smiled and she wrapped her arms around him. His arms tightened for a minute and then she pulled away.
He raised one eyebrow, and she gave herself a little shake.
“Sorry, I’m in a bad mood. I tried very hard not to lose my temper today, but I almost did. Telemain had a mirror -- ” She broke off. “He meant well, and if it had worked it would have been wonderful -- but it didn’t, and it doesn’t matter. It just put me into a very bad mood.” She paused again. “I miss you.”
His arms tightened again. He leaned forward and kissed her, and she smiled. “Yes. I miss that.”
The fire had burned down to embers when she woke with a start. Her hair was coming loose from its long braids, and she pushed it out of her face and stood up slowly, adjusting her dress. In the corner, Daystar slept quietly in his bed. Cimorene, ignoring the dirty dishes and unswept floor, changed into her nightgown and laid down on her own bed. In a short time she was asleep once again.
III. Twelve years
“Cimorene,” Kazul said, “have you ever tried to contact Mendanbar?”
Cimorene set down the cloth she had been using to polish a very ugly silver urn which Kazul had found in one of her treasure heaps and seemed to have taken a fancy to.
“Once or twice,” she replied. “It doesn’t work.”
“Telemain dropped by the other day,” Kazul said, yawning. “He seems to think it should work.”
A small line appeared between Cimorene’s eyebrows, but she said calmly, “Maybe it should work, but it hasn’t so far.”
Kazul coughed, or rather, she made a sound that in a dragon passed for a cough. “I wouldn’t mention it, except that Marchak was visiting me the other day and he reminded me.”
Cimorene looked up from the tarnished etchings on the urn that she had been examining. “Yes?”
“There’s a cave a little ways from here. I believe it’s just off the juncture in the back tunnels between my caves and Marchak’s. It’s mostly unused and largely forgotten, but he reminded me that it has certain properties that you might find of interest.”
Cimorene set down her dirty cloth and selected a clean one. “What sort of properties?”
“It’s called the Cave of One Thousand Voices. The story goes that sometimes you hear voices of your loved ones if you enter the cave at the time of the full moon. I don’t know if you would be interested, but I thought I’d mention it.”
“It’s very kind of you to tell me.” She set down the urn with a small sigh. “It’s worth a try, I suppose. Tomorrow is the full moon, isn’t it? Would you take me to the cave?”
“With pleasure,” Kazul replied. “In return, I shall ask of you one bucket of cherries jubilee, and for you to leave my treasure alone. It is very kind of you to polish that urn, but you’ve covered your fingers in tarnish, and since you are not my princess any longer, I see no reason why you should do my work for me.”
Cimorene laughed. “All right, no more polishing. But you were right, I can see that it is a very nice urn now that it’s clean.” She held up the silver vessel to catch the light.
Kazul’s eyes glinted. “I do like my silver to shine,” she murmured. “Now be off with you. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Cimorene stood in the Cave of One Thousand Voices and tried to breathe quietly. The huge cave seemed to echo even the smallest noise. Behind her, in the tunnel outside the arched doorway, Kazul did not seem to be having trouble keeping quiet. It might have been Cimorene’s beating heart more than her breathing that caused her ears to buzz in a very strange manner.
The buzzing grew louder, and Cimorene cocked her head, trying to catch something that seemed just beyond her senses.
“Mother!”
Cimorene turned around quickly, but the cave was empty.
Daystar’s voice echoed off the walls. “Mother, may I go over to the pasture? The mare has had her foal and I wanted to see -- ”
Morwen’s voice joined the boy’s.
“Cimorene, have I given you my recipe for cough syrup? I thought you might like it before the winter -- ”
Telemain’s joined in.
“The transitive properties of this particular enchanted object are such that -- ”
And then came Kazul.
“I do like my silver to shine.”
Cimorene turned in a slow circle.
“Mother, could we -- ”
“The kittens have settled behind the stove -- ”
“I found a very interesting pair of silver buckles the other day that seem to possess the ability to -- ”
“Your cherries jubilee -- ”
The voices died down. Daystar. Morwen. Telemain. Kazul.
Cimorene turned once more, just to be certain, and left the cave.
In the tunnel outside the cave, Kazul opened her eyes. “Well?”
Cimorene shook her head.
The Green Glass Pool looked faintly blue in the twilight. Cimorene studied the water, walking around the rocky rim and observing the little ripples that shifted from azure to turquoise to emerald. She still had her head bent toward the water when she bumped into Mendanbar.
She didn’t say anything, but twined her fingers into his and held his hand very tightly.
When she woke up in her bed in the cottage, her hands were tangled in the blankets. She flexed her fingers until the muscles relaxed, and finally fell back asleep as the dawn crept slowly over the horizon.
IV. Seventeen years
“Cimorene!” shouted Mendanbar.
He took three strides forward and took her in his arms. She was laughing and crying at the same time. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt, the solid warmth of him.
“This is so much better than at the Green Glass Pool,” Mendanbar said in her ear.
“It is. For one thing,” she pointed out, “you didn’t seem to be able to speak.”
“I tried.” He sounded faintly apologetic. “I couldn’t figure out how to make the magic do that. The best I could do was meet you there.”
“Telemain was wrong and right at the same time,” Cimorene said. “I’ll have to tell him, now that it’s all over. He’ll be very interested.”
“Hmm?” Mendanbar said, but he was not really paying attention. He kissed her, kissed her again, and finally pulled away. “There are probably a few things I should attend to.”
“Probably a few things,” Cimorene agreed. “You’ve been away for seventeen years.” Smiling, she went over to talk to Daystar.