The Most Terrible Gift

Siatani and the other two Generous Ones brought Maximilian and Alexandra back to the clay meeting house in the same manner that they had left – by Apparating them. Once more, Alexandra had to take in large gulps of air after the uncomfortable squeezing sensation that forced all the breath out of her lungs. Charlie squawked and wobbled dizzily, so she held the bird in her arms for a few minutes.

There were fewer elves in the Place of Exchange now, but several dozen still remained, and Cejaiaqui and his peers didn't seem to have moved at all. They were all enjoying the wizard-tobacco Maximilian had brought, filling the chamber with a thick, rich aroma that stung Alexandra's eyes.

“Ah, our generous guests return,” Cejaiaqui drawled, inhaling deeply from a hand-rolled cigarette. He exhaled a plume of blue-green smoke. “You cannot have rested long.”

“They are eager for our gifts!” exclaimed one of the older elves at his side.

“No, not at all,” Maximilian said, and then, when Cejaiaqui and the other Generous Ones looked offended, he hastily amended: “Of course, we are very impressed by your wonderful gifts! We would be embarrassed to accept any more gifts from you, for we are too poor and humble to be worthy of such generosity!”

He was trying to match the Generous Ones' flowery speech. Alexandra would have found it funny, if it didn't now feel more like a game where they didn't know the rules, but were doomed if they lost.

Indeed, Cejaiaqui looked amused, as he took another puff from his cigarette.

“Will you and your sister smoke with us?” he offered.

“My sister is too young to smoke,” Maximilian answered quickly.

“So are you!” Alexandra shot back, and then bit her lip and looked down. All of the Generous Ones looked surprised.

“My sister also has poor manners,” Maximilian added, giving her a stern look.

“A troublesome little sister,” Cejaiaqui observed. “But she does talk after all!”

The other elders laughed, and Alexandra heard more chattering among the Generous Ones gathered around them.

“As I said,” Cejaiaqui sighed, “it is the way of wizards to be concerned only with what is exchanged, and not the exchange.”

Maximilian bowed his head. “I apologize for any rudeness, on my part or my sister's. We do not know your ways. We are only here to speak for our father. If you will parlay with him –”

“Ah, yes, your father, the mighty wizard Abraham Thorn.” Cejaiaqui nodded. “He has sent generous gifts and promises more. Yet, it is difficult indeed to match the generosity of your Confederation.”

Maximilian didn't seem quite sure how to answer that. He paused, with his mouth open, but Cejaiaqui continued. “Once, any wizard could enter the Lands Below... or leave. Now, none can. None but those bearing Seals that we have given them. It is more peaceful, without your kind tracking your large feet through the Lands Below.” The other Generous Ones nodded agreement, with chuckling and snickering as well. “But there is benefit, too, in being free to exchange gifts with any who would come.”

Maximilian sat quietly and listened. So did Alexandra.

The old elf leaned forward, peering at them from across the fire pit, through the haze of cigarette smoke.

“Your father wishes to come and go in the Lands Below, bearing a token of our good will? If he is a great wizard among your people, then surely he knows we do not give such a gift lightly.”

“But you have given it,” Maximilian responded, a little too hastily. He held his tongue a moment, as Cejaiaqui paused and gave him an inscrutable look, and then, trying to sound more assured, he went on: “Of course our father sent us here knowing he would have to offer you gifts of equal value, or greater. Our father is a generous man also.”

Yes, he's very generous with expensive brooms and dresses, Alexandra thought sourly.

But the Generous Ones seemed taken by Maximilian's words. Cejaiaqui gave him a long look, then turned his head and stared at Alexandra for a long time. Finally, he raised the cigarette to his mouth again, and closed his eyes as he drew deeply, then exhaled with a loud, “Aah!”

The cloud of smoke he blew out seemed to spread throughout the room. The tobacco smoke was giving Alexandra a headache. That and not having had enough food or rest was making her sleepy.

“We shall give you this gift – we shall enchant something that will allow you to cross the borders between the Lands Below and the Lands Above, and mark you as a generous friend of the Generous Ones. Of course –” Cejaiaqui shrugged. “– all the Lands Below are not ours. Nothing guarantees your safety from all who dwell here.”

Maximilian nodded. Alexandra remembered Bewi's warning about seeking the Generous Ones.

“What token has your father sent?” Cejaiaqui asked, addressing Maximilian.

Maximilian looked confused.

“Whatever you wish us to enchant must be a token offered by the wizard who would have it,” Cejaiaqui explained, sounding a little annoyed.

“Like an obol!” Alexandra whispered, excitedly. Maximilian shot another warning look at her, but Cejaiaqui smiled thinly.

“Like an obol,” the elf agreed. He held up one of the gold Lions Maximilian had brought. “But a coin is merely a coin, cold-minted metal, stamped by goblins...” His upper lip pulled up in a sneer. “These are only tools of wizard-trade. Useful, yes, and gold is gold. But we cannot make an obol of these, and what your father asks for is far more powerful than an obol.” He gave Maximilian a quizzical look. “He must have sent something of his that he intended you to bring back.”

Maximilian's tongue ran over his lips quickly, as he pondered this. Alexandra could see that he was improvising as he went along – an experience with which she was quite familiar – but clearly their father hadn't known as much as the Generous Ones were assuming he did. Or he hadn't shared it with Maximilian.

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a cough, and glanced at Charlie, whose head was turning this way and that. She wondered if the smoke was bothering the raven, too; her familiar had been uncharacteristically quiet as well, possibly taking a cue from her. The raven hadn't even clucked when Cejaiaqui flashed the gold coin.

Her mouth dropped open, and she let out a little gasp. She coughed, and elbowed her brother. “Max!” she whispered.

He turned to her, scowling angrily.

“I've got it!” she mouthed silently to him. She gave him a wide-eyed, earnest look. His eyebrows went up, and his anger turned to bafflement.

Slowly, Alexandra rose to her feet. She held out a hand, to still her brother, as he almost rose to stop her. She looked at him again pleadingly, and he gritted his teeth, and sat where he was, fists clenched, body tense, watching her.

She walked around the fire pit, while the Generous Ones' eyes fixed on her, and no one made a sound. Charlie still sat on her shoulder, and she willed, desperately, for her raven to stay there and remain quiet, as she knelt in front of Cejaiaqui, and then reached under her cloak and the collar of her jacket, to pull her father's locket from around her neck.

Charlie stirred excitedly, and began making a sound.

“Shh,” she breathed. “Please, Charlie.”

The raven continued hopping right and left, when not digging its claws into her, but didn't leave her shoulder as she held out the locket, dangling on its gold chain, to Cejaiaqui.

The old elf did not look at her, but extended a spindly gray arm and wrapped his fingers around the locket. He pulled it back to hold it in front of his face and examine it. He opened it without a word or a gesture, seemingly unaffected by the charms that usually kept it sealed, and regarded the cameo of Abraham Thorn silently.

Then he snapped it shut and nodded. “This will do.” He looked past Alexandra to Maximilian. “You may take this back to your father.”

Feeling relief – and a little pleased with herself – Alexandra stood up and returned to Maximilian's side.

Her brother reached out and clasped her hand, and she smiled, as he spoke to Cejaiaqui again. “We are grateful. And having imposed on your hospitality so long, we would not like to be rude guests who overstay our welcome –”

“Nonsense.” Cejaiaqui waved aside Maximilian's protestations. “The distance you have traveled is great, and even with your father's gift, you must return to one of the openings to the Lands Above. And we must enchant it first.” The other elves murmured agreement. “You will want to rest, and perhaps speak to your sister?” He shrugged, looking at them with an odd smile.

Alexandra was tired, and the thought of lying down in those soft furs again was appealing, even if another part of her wanted to get out of here and away from these creepy elves as quickly as possible.

“You are kind and generous,” Maximilian replied, a little tightly.

“Of course, we have more gifts to offer you, for you to take back to your father,” Cejaiaqui went on.

Maximilian stammered something, trying to come up with a polite way to refuse, then said, “And we have more gifts for you!”

Despite offering a chance to rest, it seemed to amuse the Generous Ones to keep playing this game with the young wizard, as Cejaiaqui offered food, some carved wooden sticks that were not exactly wands, but which had magical properties such as the ability to call rain or banish wind (or so he told Maximilian), little stone heads that talked, but whose usefulness eluded Alexandra, a snake – really, most of the gifts they were offering now were rather like the bone flute; strange, enchanted artifacts that she and Maximilian had no idea how to use. She wondered if the Generous Ones were offering them the equivalent of old knick-knacks that Muggles would get rid of in a yard sale.

Maximilian, in turn, was handing out whatever he could retrieve from his pack that might impress the Generous Ones. He gave Cejaiaqui his Danger Alarm, the Bubotuber Balloons and Homing Stars, and a Skyhook, though he seemed to be trying to hold onto the Lost Traveler's Compass.

At one point, another of the Generous Ones commented that Alexandra really didn't need her broom. Alexandra glared at the elf – he seemed to be a younger one, sitting far from Cejaiaqui, and Cejaiaqui gave the junior elf an ominous scowl, and apologized for the covetousness of his mannerless kin. But Maximilian took the hint, and soon was offering up his own broom. Alexandra was bothered by that – maybe they wouldn't need their brooms to get back across the Lands Below, and they could both ride hers in a pinch, and she was glad Maximilian had given away his instead of hers. But this seemed like a very lopsided game of 'gift-giving.'

Her eyelids were getting heavy, and her head was getting droopy, and she was forcing herself to stay awake, and having a hard time paying attention. She really wanted to get out of this smoke-filled hall.

She was rather embarrassed when her brother shook her awake.

“Alex,” he murmured. “We're going now.”

“Back home?” she mumbled, looking around. They were still in the Place of Exchange, and the fire was still burning, but the Generous Ones were filing out.

“Not yet. Back to those guest-houses... the Gift-Place, Asterintu calls it.” He nodded to one of the elves who had waited on him earlier. Siatani and Lialuco were there, too. Alexandra looked around, and asked, “Where's Quimley?”

“What do you need of Quimley?” Siatani asked. “Shall I summon him for you, human child?”

She bit her lip, then shook her head. She didn't really need anything from Quimley; she just would have been happier to see him. “No. That's all right.”

“We shall take you back to your guest-houses,” Siatani said soothingly, holding out her hand. “You can sleep, sleep, until it is time.”

“Time for what?” Alexandra mumbled.

“Time to go, of course,” Maximilian said. He covered his mouth to hide a yawn. He was tired, too.

“Of course,” Asterintu murmured.

“Should we talk?” Alexandra whispered to Maximilian.

“We will, but sleep first. We may need it,” he sighed. “We're still going to have to get back across the Lands Below.”

“On one broom,” she added dryly.

The elves assigned to take them back to their guest-houses were looking at them strangely. Then Siatani took her hand, and Asterintu took Maximilian's, and Alexandra held her breath, with her other arm wrapped around her very unhappy familiar, as they were squeezed through the space in-between where they had left and where they were going. She gasped and stumbled, as they arrived back in the clay dwelling with the carpet and the woven basket full of furs. The bathtub was gone now, and there was no sign of Quimley.

“Do you wish anything else, human child?” asked Siatani.

Alexandra was tempted to tell the Generous One that she had a name, but merely shook her head. “No. I'm fine.” She laid her broom down next to the 'bed.' “Just privacy, if you don't mind.”

Her tone might have been a little sharper than was polite, but Siatani and Lialuco merely nodded. “Sleep well then, human child,” Siatani murmured. The two of them disappeared.

Alexandra shrugged off her cloak and her jacket. “Are you all right, Charlie?” she yawned. “Got enough to eat, greedy-guts?”

Charlie cawed.

She took off her boots and her socks, and her belt, but decided not to undress any further. She might need to get up quickly.

She would have rather had Maximilian closer than the adjacent dwelling. When they'd been sleeping in the same tent, she could hear his breathing, and they both knew the other one was all right. But if the Generous Ones wanted to hurt them, what could they do about it? She sighed, and made herself cozy in the furs piled up in the basket, pulling a few over herself.

Charlie perched on the edge of the basket, by her head, and she smiled up at the raven.

“You gonna watch over me, Charlie?” she asked. “Or are you gonna sleep?”

“Sleep well,” Charlie rasped, in a voice much like Siatani's.

She smiled, and closed her eyes, and was asleep in moments.

Come human child, and join us, in our hidden Lands Below,
leave behind the world of men, which has ill-served you so.

It had been dark and silent: the most perfect, absolute darkness Alexandra had ever known. The scream that had filled her ears at first was soon swallowed in the void, and she was falling, endlessly. She spread her arms, and felt nothing.

The sun, it burns!
The wind, it burns!
The sand, it burns!
The lands above, they burn.
You will not be burned here.
Not by sun.
Not by wind.
Not by sand.

Alexandra woke up, and put on her socks and boots. She could hear them calling to her, outside, with a low, dirge-like chant. It had seeped into her dreams, lulling her, and now she knew she was meant to go outside and join them.

“Alexandra!” squawked Charlie.

She didn't shush the bird, or even look at Charlie. She picked up the bone flute – she knew she was meant to bring that. Then, though it took her several long moments, standing there thinking – or rather, trying to think – she straightened, and walked to the door, leaving her wand and broom behind.

Come human child, and join us, in our hidden Lands Below,
we call to you, in your own tongue; it's time, it's time to go.

Charlie screeched her name again, and then flapped over to her shoulder, and pecked at her ear.

“Stop it, Charlie,” she mumbled, pushing the raven away.

Outside, there were even more Generous Ones than had been in the Place of Exchange. The bottom of the chasm in which the clay guest-houses were located was like a deep stone bowl, surrounded by the high, black cliffs Alexandra had seen earlier. Now, it seemed even darker than before, and though she glanced up, before her attention was drawn forward again, she could barely see the demarcation between the edges of the cliffs above and the blackness overhead.

The Generous Ones were like scores of pale ghosts, spread out along the rocky ground in front of her, ringing the bowl-like depression at the bottom of this dry gorge, and perched on rocks and ledges all around it. Only the very bottom of the chasm was empty, and as Alexandra emerged from her quarters, the elves shifted and moved aside, making a path for her from the doorway to the impenetrable black shadows in the center of their gathering.

Leave behind your wand;
you will not need it.
Leave behind your broom;
you will not need it.
Leave behind your raven;
you will not need it.
Leave, leave behind.

It was a very strange chant. It didn't even make sense, and Alexandra didn't like the part about leaving behind her wand and her raven, in particular, yet the part of her mind that would have compelled action, that might have reasoned why she didn't like this, seemed to be asleep. The Generous Ones continued chanting, and she walked forward, with no thought of resisting.

Charlie screeched in her ear, and flapped madly in circles around her head.

“Quit fussing, Charlie!” she griped.

Past rows of silent elves who all stared at her with wide, expectant eyes, she marched down the short slope, with the words of the elves who were doing the chanting filling her ears and smothering thought.

Come human child, and join us, in our hidden Lands Below,
for the world above is more sorrowful, than you can ever know.

At the very bottom of the chasm, she was all but blind. The darkness was almost solid and physical, and she had no idea if she might be stepping into a hole or walking into a nest of scorpions; she could barely see her hand in front of her face, and Charlie was only a flapping sound in her ears.

Someone spoke – it was a familiar, creaking voice – and then light flared, almost blinding Alexandra for a moment. There was now a fire blazing near the depression she was standing in, and she saw it came from one of those magical hides that burned without ever being consumed – maybe the same one that had been back in the Place of Exchange, for all she knew. The fire illuminated a number of Generous Ones, ringing it, and a large rock next to it, on which sat Cejaiaqui, holding the locket of Abraham Thorn.

The flames were the only source of light down here, so she could only see a few of the faces near the fire, though she still sensed the Generous Ones surrounding her on all sides. She now saw that she was standing on a flat, black surface; whether clay or stone, she could not tell. It was unnaturally flat and featureless, and she felt a chill and a queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach. She might have recognized it, if her brain didn't seem to be asleep.

Charlie screeched again, and Cejaiaqui scowled at the raven, then beckoned Alexandra towards him. Without questioning why, she approached.

Yet farther still, you will go,
beyond the Lands Below,
beyond the Lands Below,
to the Lands Beyond.

Cejaiaqui reached above her head, and lowered the chain around her neck. Alexandra looked down at the locket, reflecting fire light as it lay against her collarbone. Charlie cawed again, and shrieked, “Troublesome! Troublesome!”

“You have our gift to you?” Cejaiaqui inquired.

Alexandra blinked, puzzled, and he said, “The flute!”

She nodded, and held it up.

Someone shouted, “Alexandra!” but she ignored it, as she ignored Charlie's squawking.

“Play,” Cejaiaqui commanded.

Alexandra frowned.

“Alexandra!” the screaming was louder now, closer. There was some kind of commotion, back in the direction from whence she'd come, but that didn't concern her.

“I don't know how,” she told Cejaiaqui.

“Play,” Cejaiaqui repeated. “The magic of the Gift-Place is enough. Your skill does not matter.”

She nodded, and put the flute to her lips. The person calling her name was screaming now, but she ignored him, and blew, trying, as she had before, to produce some sort of tune, though she had no idea what to do with her fingers. The sound that emerged was disharmonious and ugly, though as she continued blowing, she settled on something like a rhythm, alternating between two or three notes.

“What are you doing?” Maximilian screamed. She could hear boots skidding on stone, and his voice was coming closer. There was another flare of light, as well, as he must have cast a Light Charm so he could see, but she didn't look in his direction.

The ground in front of her, where she had been standing, turned blacker than black. It actually seemed to suck light into it, and cold radiated from the darkness.

Her flute-playing, the chanting of the Generous Ones, Charlie's screeches, her brother's screams, were all drowned out by whispers, a multitude of whispers, emanating from the darkness at the bottom of the Gift-Place.

“Crucio!” Her brother screamed the word, pointing his wand over the heads of a dozen elves between himself and Alexandra. She dropped the flute, as the pain hit her and made her double over.

Just a little taste.

It was enough to break the spell. She gasped, and straightened up, befuddled. Maximilian hurled two elves out of his way and leaped to her side. She saw Quimley at his heels; the former house-elf trembled and wrung his hands as he joined the two humans, looking down and moaning. The ground before them was a black void, and Alexandra could still hear those otherworldly whispers. The chanting of the Generous Ones had stopped. Their eyes were all now fixed on Alexandra and Maximilian, and the faces of the nearest ones, illuminated by Maximilian's wand, were malevolent.

“Forgive me,” Maximilian whispered, his voice almost breaking. He put an arm around her.

Alexandra looked down at the flute at her feet, and shivered. Charlie landed on her shoulder.

What was going on?

Maximilian pointed his wand at Cejaiaqui, who looked more surprised than frightened.

“Has madness seized you, Abraham Thorn's son?” asked the elf.

“Quimley told me you're trying to send my sister to the Lands Beyond!” Maximilian snarled.

Cejaiaqui squinted at him. “Yes, as agreed.”

“What do you mean, 'as agreed'?” Maximilian yelled. “We agreed to no such thing!”

“Of course you did.” The Generous One's eyes narrowed. “That is why your father sent his daughter.”

Maximilian gaped. “Are you mad? I did not bring my sister along as a human sacrifice!”

Alexandra looked around. She was very aware of being surrounded by hundreds of elves. She remembered what Em had been able to do to her. She really, really wished that she had her wand.

“You spoke plainly enough for all to understand.” Cejaiaqui sounded angry now. “And only in the Lands Beyond can a token such as your father desires be made.”

“You mean, she's supposed to take it to the Lands Beyond and bring it back?” Maximilian exclaimed.

“No, wizard.” Cejaiaqui's expression was turning decidedly unpleasant. “No one returns from the Lands Beyond. Only the token can be summoned back.”

“Forget it! Accio broom!” Maximilian pointed his wand back in the direction of the guest-houses.

An angry murmur went through the assembled Generous Ones.

“What has been gifted cannot be returned,” Cejaiaqui declared.

“You can keep my broom!” Maximilian said angrily. “I'm summoning my sister's.”

“I meant your sister,” Cejaiaqui replied, as Alexandra saw something tumbling through the air towards them.

“I did not give you my sister!” he shouted.

“Oh, but you did.” Cejaiaqui's voice was almost as cold as the void behind them. Alexandra now knew where she had heard those whispers before: in the room in Charmbridge's basement where John Manuelito and Sue Fox had summoned that... spirit. “And you cannot take her back.”

Alexandra's Valkyrie almost hit them both. Maximilian just barely managed to catch it, and then Cejaiaqui gestured, and it slipped out of his hands and slammed into the ground as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Maximilian pointed his wand at the elf leader again, and Cejaiaqui laughed maliciously.

“Look around you, wizard,” he rasped, gesturing at the Generous Ones who surrounded them. “You will die and be cast into the Lands Beyond along with your sister, before you cast another spell from that wand.”

Alexandra shivered, and stepped closer to her brother. “Max, don't,” she whispered.

She knew his temper. She was afraid he might actually attack Cejaiaqui. He was used to subservient house-elves, and if he had never had an elf freeze him in place and hold him helpless, he might not realize just how much trouble they were in.

He did seem to think better of cursing Cejaiaqui, though. He tried to speak calmly, though his jaw was clenched and Alexandra could hear the suppressed fury in his voice.

“This was not what I agreed to,” he said. “Nor what my father intended. We will not trade my sister for the token. I apologize if I misunderstood, but –”

“You have no choice!” Cejaiaqui hissed, leaning towards him. “What you promised was promised, whether you understood what you promised or not! The gate to the Lands Beyond is open, and will not be closed until we send a living soul through.”

“Please,” Maximilian pleaded. “Let us go. My father will pay any other price. We will return without your gift.”

“It is too late to renege on your promise.” Cejaiaqui's eyes glowed, but his face was stone. “We owe no mercy to wizard-kind.”

Alexandra was thinking desperately, but she could see no way out. If only they could Apparate to safety! She thought that was far beyond anything she could do with doggerel verse, but she started composing a rhyme in her head nonetheless – and then remembered she didn't even have her wand. She groaned, and then Maximilian said, “What if I go instead of my sister? Let her take back the token to my father.”

“Max, no!” she gasped.

“Let my sister go, and I will go to the Lands Beyond.” Maximilian kept his gaze fixed on Cejaiaqui.

Cejaiaqui shrugged indifferently, but his smile was cruel. “Which of you goes is not important.”

Alexandra screamed: “NO!”

“Give me the locket, Alexandra.” He turned to her, reaching for the chain around her neck, and she pushed his hands away, and slapped and kicked at him, shaking her head furiously.

“No! No! No! Forget it! Never! I won't let you! Never!” she cried, and then he slapped her across the face.

While she reeled in shock, Charlie screeched and dived at him. Maximilian ducked his head and pointed his wand, shooting a stream of sparks to drive the raven away. With his other hand, he grabbed Alexandra's upper arm in a crushing grip.

“Do as I ordered, Witch-Private Quick!” he barked, in the same voice he used when giving commands in JROC. “Like in the panthers' lair!”

Protests were already forming on her lips again, and he shook her, hard. “Follow my instructions, like before!” he said urgently, as her head was jerked back and forth.

Her mouth gaped open, and she blinked, as his eyes bored into hers. The Generous Ones were staring at them. She knew Quimley was still next to them, but she couldn't take her eyes off of her brother. His words sank in.

“L-Like before,” she stammered.

“Do as you're told, like you're supposed to,” he repeated, and he took the chain from around her neck. She stood there, trembling, while Maximilian put the locket around his own neck. Then he pulled her close to him, and kissed her cheek.

Alexandra swallowed hard. She could barely breathe. Maximilian turned towards Cejaiaqui. “I don't want my sister to see this.”

“We assumed you slept because you did not want to see your sister go to the Lands Beyond,” Cejaiaqui sniffed.

Alexandra closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. This would work. Maximilian had a plan.

“You will let her go? Back to the guest-house to wait for you to bring the locket to her?”

She shuddered. Was that really what the Generous Ones believed? That Maximilian had 'given' her to them to be thrown through a gate into some otherworld, and that he was waiting for the 'gift' for which he'd traded her?

“Charlie,” she gasped, and Charlie was there, on her shoulder, and then Maximilian was pressing the broom into her hands.

“Go,” he whispered in her other ear. “Go and wait.” She nodded. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She was afraid if she hesitated, she'd cry, or panic, or grab onto him and refuse to let go, so she mounted the Valkyrie and took off. The Generous Ones let her fly over their heads, and she leaned forward, accelerating back to the guest-house.

“Wait outside, Charlie,” she rasped. She dropped the broom and jumped to the ground in one motion, and walked through the entrance to her quarters. She was forcing herself to think only one step ahead at a time. They'd have to be ready to leave really fast, she knew. The Generous Ones weren't going to like being tricked. She grabbed her wand, which was still lying where she'd left it. She was grateful for that – she had been afraid one of the Generous Ones might have already taken it.

She clenched it in her hand. That and the broom would have to do. No time to go to Maximilian's quarters and get his pack. She needed to be back outside, ready for them both to hop on the broom and get the hell out of here –

Quimley popped out of thin air in front of her, as she was heading back to the door.

“Quimley is so sorry, Miss,” the elf quavered, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“It's all right, Quimley,” she breathed. “Thank you, thank you for everything! But I have to get outside now.” She stepped around the elf and pushed aside the hide entrance again. As soon as she was outside again, and looking down at the darkness blanketing the assembly of elves, and the magic fire, her eyes sought the form of her brother. It was too dark down there, though. She only saw shadows.

“We must go, Miss,” Quimley said.

She nodded. “I know. You can come with us, Quimley.”

“Us?” Quimley blinked.

“We're going to have to jump on the broom and leave, as soon as my brother Apparates back here,” she whispered. “But I'm sure it can hold all three of us.”

Quimley stared directly at her. “Apparate?” He shook his head. “Is not possible, Miss.”

Little slivers of ice pricked her heart. “Wh – what do you mean?”

“Abraham Thorn's son tried to Apparate to Miss's hut when Quimley woke him. Quimley told Miss's brother, the Generous Ones will not let wizards Apparate here. You can do nothing here if the Generous Ones does not permit it.”

“Quimley, go get him!” Her voice rose in a panic. “Please, please, please go get him and bring him back here!” she begged, actually clasping her hands together.

Quimley gulped and shook his head, as more tears spilled from his eyes. “Is not possible, Miss. Now he is in their power.”

Everything screeched to a halt inside her head, and then she was on her broom, screaming her brother's name, as she flew back where she'd just come from. Why couldn't she see the light from Maximilian's wand?

“Miss, no!” cried Quimley, but she didn't hear.

“MAX!” She almost plowed through a column of elves, who scattered as she hurtled towards the rock where Cejaiaqui stood. She held up her wand. “Ter Lumos!”

Light burst from the end of her wand, and all the Generous Ones covered their eyes to shield them from the sudden brilliant flare.

Maximilian was falling into the pool of darkness. He turned his head in her direction, and she saw his face, ghostly white, and the gleam of the locket around his neck, and then he plummeted straight down without a sound and disappeared.

“NO!” Alexandra screamed. Her eyes had seen it, but her mind could not accept it. He was gone, just like that.

Without a second thought, she dived after him.

As the void rushed at her, she heard those whispers becoming louder and louder, almost as if they were calling to her. She ignored the cold radiating from the Gift-Place, and Quimley's frantic screams. Just as she was about to cross the lightless threshold, an invisible force seized hold of her. Her broom shuddered and swerved aside. She howled in desperation, as she was dumped onto the hard rocky ground at the base of the rock where a surprised-looking Cejaiaqui stood, and her Valkyrie fell next to her with a clatter. Startled elves scattered away from her.

“You must not follow,” the ancient elf told her sternly.

Alexandra barely heard him. She leaped to her feet and screamed, “MAX!” with all the power in her lungs. Her voice echoed up and down the dark chasm of the Gift-Place. Her Light Spell was already fading. But she didn't need light.

Alexandra didn't really believe in God, but she was willing to, if God would help her now. For the first time in her life, she prayed, and promised she'd give up magic forever, if only this spell worked, just this once. She pointed her wand downward, into the void, and poured every ounce of energy and concentration she had into it.

“Accio Maximilian!”

Nothing happened.

She waited, breathlessly, as her heart beat so loudly that she heard it even above the whispers from below, and Charlie's shrieking. Once, twice, three times her heart pounded in her ears.

“ACCIO MAXIMILIAN!” she screamed again.

Charlie cried, “Maximilian!” and flew in a circle around her.

“Your brother is gone,” Cejaiaqui declared.

She ignored him, and screamed the incantation, over and over. The Generous Ones stared at the girl standing on the edge of the gateway to the Lands Beyond. A few of them might even have looked sympathetic – it didn't matter, because Alexandra didn't notice.

At last, when her throat ached and her temples were throbbing, she raised her eyes upwards, to where Cejaiaqui had settled calmly into a sitting position, and was now regarding her with a sort of detached interest.

She forced down her rage and swallowed the curses she wanted to fling at him. Instead, she dropped to her knees, ignoring the pain from the sharp rocks.

“Please,” she begged. Her voice was raw and hoarse. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Bring him back. I'll give you anything. Anything. I'll stay here and be your slave forever. Just bring him back.”

“That is not within our power,” Cejaiaqui replied solemnly. There was no malice in his expression now, though no sympathy either. “No one returns from the Lands Beyond. Your brother is gone.”

Alexandra shook. It couldn't be.

Quimley was at her side, but she was only barely aware of the elf. Charlie landed on her shoulder, and cooed, even though her shoulder was shaking so violently that the raven had trouble perching there.

The Generous Ones had begun chanting again, but it wasn't the same chant as before. This one was eerie and inhuman, and there were no words Alexandra could recognize. She didn't care, wasn't paying attention. Pointlessly, her mind was going over and over those last few horrible moments, trying to think of what she should have done differently, what she could have done, what to do now. This wasn't right, and it couldn't be true – there had to be a way around this, some way she could undo what had just happened.

When Charlie squawked, it distracted her enough to look up, and she saw a glimmer of light in the depths of the void that Maximilian had disappeared into. Her heart leapt, and she rose to her feet. He had returned somehow! She felt a blaze of hope.

Her father's locket levitated out of the darkness, still on its chain, reflecting light from the fire. Alexandra's eyes were glued to it, as it floated in her direction, and then over her head, and into Cejaiaqui's hand.

The Generous Ones continued chanting, and abruptly, the bottom of the Gift-Place's stone basin turned solid again, the impenetrable black shadows were replaced by packed clay, the whispers were cut off with a hiss, and then the Generous Ones fell silent.

Alexandra fell back to the ground, and again ignored the jolt of pain as hard rocks stabbed her knees. She let out a strangled cry.

“Rise, human child,” commanded Cejaiaqui.

She ignored him, until Quimley spoke into her ear, very softly.

“Miss must get up,” he whispered. “Please, Miss.”

“Alexandra,” Charlie cooed sadly into her other ear.

She stood, with her knees trembling. They were wet and sticky now, where the rocks had torn them open. When she looked up, Cejaiaqui was dangling the locket before him, above her head.

“Our gift, to your father,” the Generous One said.

“Go to hell!” she hissed, shaking with fury.

Quimley covered his mouth and looked horrified. Other Generous Ones shrank away from her, and made angry, shocked noises. Cejaiaqui only blinked slowly at her.

“We thought your brother brought you here to give the most terrible gift, on your father's behalf,” he rasped. “Such are the ways of wizards. Yet instead, he gave you the most precious gift. Take then, this gift from the Generous Ones.”

“Gift?” she choked. “Gift? You forced him to do that! You killed him! You could have let us go! You didn't have to make one of us die! Generous Ones? GENEROUS?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “You evil little monsters! MURDERERS!”

Her tirade ended when she found herself unable to breathe. She clutched at her throat, and fell to her knees once again, this time on the verge of passing out. Then the invisible hands around her throat released her.

“We are generous, human child,” Cejaiaqui said to her, this time in a low, menacing voice. “So greatly were we impressed by your brother, that we shall forgive your unforgivable insult and allow you to leave. Rarely, rarely, do we forgive once, and never twice.”

She raised her eyes again. She was almost beyond rationality, but some part of her mind was still taking note of what she saw, and so her eyes fell on a slender stick of wood, lying at Cejaiaqui's feet.

“That...” Her voice now was a creak, almost as dry as the elf's. “That's Maximilian's wand.”

“His last gift to us. His generosity –”

She lunged, standing on her toes, and snatched it off the rock. Cejaiaqui's eyes flared. “You cannot –”

The sound that came out of Alexandra's mouth was not a spell, just an incoherent scream. But her fury transmitted itself through both wands in an explosive flash of light, and the leader of the Generous Ones was blasted off his feet.

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then the nearest elves howled in outrage. Three Generous Ones rushed at her, and she kicked the first one hard enough to send him flying back into his comrades, but then one of the older ones, wearing many beads and gold and silver ornaments dangling around his neck, raised a clenched a fist in her direction, and she felt a blow slam into her, hard enough to rattle her teeth and knock all the air out of her lungs. She tumbled backwards, head over heels, and skidded across the clay that had a minute ago been the portal to the Lands Beyond. It still felt ice-cold.

Dazed, she lifted her head, and saw more elves rushing at her. She pointed her wand and muttered a curse that conjured acrid smoke, billowing into their faces. The elves in front of her coughed and rubbed their eyes as the fumes stung them, but she felt little hands grabbing her ankles. When she rolled over, she raised her arm just in time to sweep another elf away before he slashed at her face with a sharp stone knife. She sprayed red-hot sparks in all directions from both wands, and kicked at the elves trying to pin her legs, but she was being surrounded on all sides, and she saw more knives coming at her. One elf jabbed a stick into her ribs, and she screamed as it burned like fire. She thrashed about in a panic, and with a crackle of electricity, a dozen elves were hurled away from her. But there were a hundred more, and she knew even with wands, she couldn't fight them all off.

“Accio broom!” she shouted.

Another Generous One, wearing a patchwork dress of hides and frighteningly large scales, raised her arms overhead, and a black cloud swarmed out of her cupped hands. It engulfed Alexandra, and huge black bugs crawled all over her, biting and stinging her from head to toe, even through her clothes. She screamed, trying to brush them off her. Her Summoning Charm had not worked.

Then she saw Quimley swinging her broom in both hands, knocking over several Generous Ones that seemed to be trying to dog-pile him. He spun in a circle and flung the broom at her. It could not have been the elf's strength alone that propelled it through the air, as it swept a path through the elven mob, knocking them aside until it reached her. Still holding the wands, she wrapped her arms around the broom and willed herself into the air. It yanked her upwards, with her feet dangling, much like her panicked ascent in the cavern of the underwater panthers. She felt burning and stinging all over her body, but ignored it as she climbed upwards and wrapped her legs around the broom.

“CHARLIE!” she screamed, looking down. And then she jerked to a halt as an invisible hand began dragging her and the broom back down towards the howling mob of Generous Ones. She tried to force the broom to keep climbing, but she continued to descend.

She saw something glitter, next to the still-burning fire. It was her father's locket, still in Cejaiaqui's grasp. The old elf was rising shakily to his feet. Smoke curled around him. He pointed one finger at Alexandra, and for an instant, she literally felt her heart stop. She shuddered and almost let go of the broom, and then a scream cut through the howling and chanting. Charlie dived at Cejaiaqui, clawing at his face and pecking at his eyes. The wizened elf raised both hands over his head, trying to protect himself.

She heard Quimley, from somewhere down in that chaos, cry, “Fly, Abraham Thorn's daughter! Fly!”

In the same instant, the invisible force dragging Alexandra down released her, and she shot back up even faster. The broomstick actually slipped through her arms and would have kept rising straight up without her, except she managed to hold onto the tail of the broom, with its short, narrow bristles poking her in the stomach. Ascending like a rocket, with Alexandra barely holding on to the tail, the Valkyrie carried her above the cliffs and out of the chasm, away from the Gift-Place and the Generous Ones, and up towards the cavernous ceiling of the Lands Below.