I hovered in midair, desperately putting together a tracer spell, then hurled it after the disappearing carpet so I that might have some hope of finding it-or its remains.
How could Antonia have stolen a flying carpet? She had heard me say the words of the Hidden Language to fly it a short distance, but could a five-year-old have remembered the strange, heavy syllables? And what must the others be thinking, hurtling through the air with a little girl supposedly in control, a girl who was surely at this moment sobbing with terror herself? Suppose they fell off, or the carpet tipped them off? Would it keep flying without further direction, over land and sea, circling the globe until it struck a mountain?
I tore my eyes from the speck that might be my last sight of Antonia to race back toward Yurt. I would do what I should have done at once and telephone ahead for another wizard to stop them. The flight to the castle seemed endless. Below me several villages whizzed past, none with telephones. How could I have been Royal Wizard here for twenty-five years and never installed magical telephones in them, imagining that pigeon messages would continue to serve, never thinking that I might want a telephone to save my daughter?
Wheezing and dripping sweat, I staggered into the castle telephone room, ignoring the shouting and the questions. The story had gotten around fast that Justinia’s carpet had taken off with a crown princess, the acting castle constable, the heiresses to a duchy and a principality, and a little girl. I slammed and leaned against the door as I gasped out the magical coordinates for the royal castle of Caelrhon.
It was not in the city itself but ten miles past it, on the far side from Yurt. But Caelrhon’s Royal Wizard would be able to get there much faster than I could if Antonia had intended to take her friends to meet Theodora. My mouth was so dry I had trouble making myself understood to the liveried servant who answered the telephone.
After what seemed a wait of several hours but could only have been a few moments, Evrard appeared. He gave me a cheerful smile over a bushy beard that failed in looking properly wizardly because it was so thoroughly red. “Nice to hear from you, Daimbert,” he began.
But I had no time for pleasantries. “Quick! Do you remember how to stop a flying carpet?”
“A what?”
He had flown on a carpet years ago when we had been in the East together. I tried to refresh his memory of the spells to command one, taking deep gasping breaths between words. I had no idea how much time had passed or just how fast the carpet was going. By this time it might be well past Caelrhon anyway.
“Stay by the phone,” Evrard said briskly. “I’ll call you right back.” The glass telephone went blank.
I kept my back against the door, in no condition to answer anyone’s questions. The wait seemed interminable. I thought I could hear the king’s voice among the rest, but if I didn’t hear his orders clearly I wouldn’t have to obey.
Should I call the school in case Evrard couldn’t intercept them? But the masters of the school were unlikely to know anything about flying carpets. And they certainly would not understand why every wizard in the Western Kingdoms had to be mobilized to stop a runaway carpet. They wouldn’t understand even if I told them my daughter was on it-after all, none of them were fathers.
How about Elerius? Or-and my heart, if possible, beat even harder-had he somehow put Antonia up to this? Or if not Elerius, had someone else insinuated his magic into the castle, putting a spell on Justinia’s carpet so that it would fly off by itself as soon as someone sat on it?
This seemed improbable-after all, I had sat on it myself just last night, though I had been too distracted to spot renegade spells. But if someone was watching the castle and waiting for another chance to attack, the person who had sent the undead warriors, this would be a golden opportunity. If Evrard couldn’t catch the carpet and bring them home, I would have to go after them myself, all the way around the globe if necessary, even if it meant leaving Yurt unprotected.
I put my sweat-covered forehead against the stone wall and closed my eyes. My best bet might be to go straight to the cathedral, grab Cyrus, and tell him I was ready to sell my soul to the devil. Saving Antonia would be cheap at the price.
The phone rang, making me jump convulsively and scrape my forehead. I snatched the receiver up.
“I couldn’t catch them, Daimbert,” said Evrard, looking haggard. I closed my eyes and wiped blood from my eyebrows. “I saw the carpet shoot over the city and was able to fly within fifty yards of it, but I just couldn’t catch it. I’m sorry! I don’t know what else to say. There were four women and a little girl on it-is that how many were on it when they left Yurt?”
“Yes,” I said dully because he seemed to be waiting for an answer. At least none of them had fallen off yet.
“The girl waved at me.”
“Waved? Desperately?”
“No,” said Evrard slowly. “As if she were enjoying herself.”
“Dear God,” I groaned. Antonia, unable to slow the carpet, did not yet realize the danger she and all the others in. She might not have even recognized her city from the air. If they continued in this direction, within an hour they would be over the coast-
And very near Elerius’s kingdom. “Get off the phone,” I barked. “I’m going to call Elerius.”
Evrard made a contrite mouth and hung up at once. Elerius too had been in the East, I remembered as I desperately placed the call. He must have some knowledge of flying carpets. Even if he had put Antonia up to this-especially if he had-he had to help me.
He came to the phone immediately. Had he been lurking nearby, I wondered suspiciously, waiting for a call he knew would come? But like Evrard, he seemed to want to begin with pleasantries, though his hazel eyes looked at me calculatingly from under peaked eyebrows.
I didn’t have time to worry about it. I told him in a few words what had happened. Let him derive any pleasure he liked from knowing Antonia had taken his suggestion. But he said blandly that he still recalled perfectly the commands for a flying carpet. I gave him the magical coordinates of my tracer spell so he might have a chance to spot the carpet coming if it wasn’t there yet.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” I said. “But it’s all up to you.” He nodded as he rang off.
But did I dare leave the people here in Yurt unprotected, especially Justinia? And what was I going to say to them all?
I burst out of the telephone room, scattering those who had clustered close, hoping to overhear. “Sire!” I shouted at Paul, spotting him toward the back of the crowd. “Another magical attack may come while I’m saving the kidnapped women! Be ready!” I lifted myself to fly over everyone’s head, through the courtyard, to the stables where we kept the air cart tethered.
Justinia’s elephant trumpeted in loud terror as I brought the purple flying-beast skin out past its stall. The lady was at the front of the crowd outside, black eyes snapping. “Wouldst thou care to tell me-” she began with barely-controlled passion.
I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I lifted her with magic, dumped her unceremoniously into the air cart, and leaped in myself. As I shouted the command to take off, her metallic automaton sprang in after us and grabbed me by the throat.
The air cart, responding to my final gurgling words, rose majestically as I was thrown onto my back. The shouting of the knights, ladies, and servants was replaced by a stunned silence as we sailed off to the strong beats of purple wings. I could feel blood oozing from under the points of the automaton’s fingers as I struggled vainly, trying to find enough words of the Hidden Language to free myself before the world went black.