As soon as he was out of sight the Shadow Witch beckoned Creeping Shadow to her side and instructed her with lifted finger. “I go alone to visit my brother, the Wizard, who lies ill, and has sent for me. If, however, much time passes, and I have not returned, you may be sure that some evil has befallen me. Seek me then, instantly, in the Cave of Darkness, for I shall have need of you.”
Creeping Shadow swore to obey what she had been told, and her mistress, gathering her trailing robes over her arm, took her way to the Wizard’s Cave.
Gloomy and forbidding was the Cave of Darkness. Its outer walls rose high and cliff-like from the great Plain of Ash, and a yawning opening led off to its dark corridors and many dusky chambers.
The Shadow Witch had no sooner reached the Cave mouth and entered it than the Chief Imp, with a spark lantern in his hand, met her to conduct her to his master. They passed swiftly down the narrow passage and came presently to that vast black chamber called the Cave Hall, where the Wizard was wont to sit.
The Cave Hall was filled with Imps, some clustered in groups, whispering together; some lolling idly upon the soot cushions that lay about the floor; some peeping stealthily from behind the heavy curtains of soot with which the walls were hung. But their master was nowhere to be seen.
The Chief Imp went directly to the farther wall and struck upon it with his wand. Instantly it yawned apart, and an inner corridor was revealed.
This part of the cave was strange to the Shadow Witch, but she entered boldly and followed her guide without fear through many winding ways and secret chambers, until at last he paused before a second wall. He struck upon it, as he had upon the other. It opened, in its turn, and she saw before her a room more profoundly dark than any that they had yet passed through. Its charcoal walls were set about with faintly glowing lanterns, but so heavy were the soot curtains that surrounded them that their light was almost quenched.
Here, too, were Imps, one beside each spark lantern, but in the centre of the room the Shadow Witch saw that which caused her to turn pale with misgiving, for the Wizard of the Cave was there—not weak or ill, as she had been led to believe, but recovered and standing in the fulness of his strength.
Beholding him thus, she knew that he intended mischief against her; knew, also, that for her safety she must show no sign of fear. “After all,” she thought, “my own magic will protect me. Never has it been less potent than his. It will not fail me now.”
She lifted herself to her full height and stood tall and beautiful before him, her rich black hair falling like a mantle over her shoulders, her eyes gleaming like stars through the dusk. “So, you have deceived me, brother,” she said coldly. “I might have known that it would be so.”