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!”