"When might I expect you then?"
Whenever is least convenient for you, the demon replied. -- Diana Wynne Jones, Dark Lord of Derkholm
Ghosts did not need sleep. But at some point during the night, Solvej fell into a sort of doze. She was vaguely aware of the sun rising, of the noises of the palace waking up. But she paid no attention to those noises until someone cleared their throat just behind her.
Her eyes snapped open and she sat up straight.
A palace guard shuffled awkwardly, looking at her as if he expected her to turn him into a frog. "Begging your pardon, miss, but you're wanted in the grand sitting room."
Solvej stood up with a yawn. "Who wants to see me?"
"Their Majesties, miss."
Oh. She should have realised the King and Queen would want to know what had happened last night.
~~~~
When she arrived at the grand sitting room, it was to find the King interrogating Hjalmar to within an inch of his life.
"But what happened after you threw the seeds down?" the King demanded at the top of his lungs.
Hjalmar winced and made a motion with his hands that suggested he wanted to cover his ears. "The seeds began to grow, sir."
"And?" the King barked. "What happened then?"
"They grew until they were fully grown, sir," Hjalmar said in a distinctly sarcastic tone. "And then Solvej discussed something with the mermaid queen while I tried to stay awake, and after that we flew back here."
The King made an exasperated noise half-way between a snort and a growl. "But did the spell work?"
"Of course it did," the Queen interrupted. "The trees would not have grown if it hadn't. Now sit down, Severin. Shouting and bellowing isn't going to get you answers more quickly."
"Good morning!" Solvej said, deciding the moment was right to announce her presence. "You wanted to see me?"
The King and Queen visibly started. Hjalmar gave her a look of almost pitiful relief. A harried-looking footman stationed near the door eyed her with suspicion. Considering the trouble certain magic users had caused the residents of the palace, the servants were inclined to be wary of anyone who had any abilities that were unusual. Some of the servants had accepted she was harmless -- to them, if not to the Magician or the parasite -- and no longer minded her presence. Others remained wary. Solvej didn't particularly care what they thought of her, as long as they didn't start shouting "Burn the witch!" or anything of that sort.
She smiled politely at everyone in the room as she stepped over the threshold, and bowed slightly to the King and Queen.
"Good morning," Queen Maibrit said, sitting up straighter in her chair and folding her hands in her lap. "We have a few questions to ask you."
"About the spell," King Severin interrupted. His wife gave him an exasperated look. He bulldozed on regardless. "How do we know this spell of yours really did work? Will the Magician be able to find any loophole?"
Solvej put her hand in her pocket and produced an apple she had picked from one of the trees. "This is proof the spell really did work. It grew, in the space of about ten minutes, on a tree planted at the bottom of the ocean. And if the Magician tries to find a loophole, he can just go out to the place where we planted them, and he'll see for himself."
The King heaved a sigh of relief. "Now, how do we find the bastard?"
"Severin!" Queen Maibrit exclaimed in a shocked tone. "You forget yourself!"
King Severin looked suitably ashamed. "I beg your pardon."
Solvej smothered a laugh as she thought of some of the things she had heard over the years. Her mother had used a good few stronger words when particularly exasperated with someone, and many other witches did not feel the need to censor their language when something went wrong. The Magician had thrown a few choice epithets at her on occasion, as well. If the King thought "bastard" was the worst she had ever heard, he was badly mistaken.
"Now," the Queen was saying in a brisk, business-like tone, "the first thing we must do is tell the Magician -- and, er, the parasite? Is that what you call her? -- that you have solved the third challenge. I do not expect him to be a graceful loser..."
You can say that again, Solvej thought.
"...so I foresee a great deal of trouble ahead of us. And in all likelihood there will be some violence. We must plan ahead. We must be prepared for -- well, not for every eventuality, but for as many as we can think of."
"That might be harder than you think, your Majesty," Solvej said. "Things rarely happen the way anyone expects them to, especially when magic is involved."
The words were hardly out of her mouth when the door flew open. Everyone jumped. The footman bumped into a footrest and knocked it over. The Queen gripped the edge of her chair, all colour suddenly drained from her face. Solvej stifled a groan. She knew who had just arrived even before she turned round.
She was right. It was the parasite.
"Good morning!" the parasite chirped, its mouth distorting into a literally ear-to-ear grin. The sight was so wrong that it sent chills down Solvej's spine. "Am I to understand that you have solved my third challenge?"
"Yes, we have," Solvej said, holding up the apple. "And here's the proof."
The parasite's smile contorted into a snarl just barely hidden by a smile. "Oh, but you could have got that apple anywhere."
"You can visit the tree it grew from if you don't believe me. But it's a long journey, so perhaps you'd rather just ask the queen of the merfolk for confirmation."
The parasite convulsed suddenly, as if it were having a fit. Solvej eyed it warily. What was that about? As abruptly as it started shaking, it stopped and stood up straight.
"So you think you have beaten me," it said in an oddly high-pitched, wavering voice. "Well, you're wrong! My mas-s-s-ster will des-s-s-stroy you!" Its voice grew shriller and more frantic, and it drew out its "s"'s like an angry snake.
"I'm sure he'll try," Solvej said in the most flippant tone she could manage. Inwardly, however, she was unnerved. What was wrong with it? Was it having some sort of nervous breakdown?
The parasite shrieked. It was a terrible sound, far higher and louder than any noise human vocal cords could produce. Everyone in the room winced and covered their ears. The windows seemed to rattle, and downstairs the servants stopped in their tracks and looked at each other in amazed horror.
Then the parasite's entire body began to shake. It twisted in strange and impossible ways, its arms and legs bending in ways that human bone was not supposed to bend. Finally, with another deafening shriek, it fell to the floor and lay silent.
Everyone stayed frozen in place, staring at it.
Is this a trick? Solvej wondered. Is it about to spring up and attack us?
Minutes ticked slowly by without a sound from anyone in the room. The parasite lay as if it was dead. The thought sent a cold chill down Solvej's spine. If the parasite had killed Rigmor's body, then Rigmor herself was dead.
Then, with a low, pained groan, the parasite sat up and rubbed its eyes. Its no-longer-red eyes, Solvej realised.
"What happened?" it -- no, she -- asked in a voice utterly unlike the parasite's high-pitched hissing drawl.
Rigmor's back! The thought hit Solvej like a thunderbolt.
The King and Queen had reached the same conclusion at almost the same moment. They both leapt up and ran to their daughter. With no regard for his dignity or how many people were watching, the King burst into tears and wept like a baby.
~~~~
The next hour was a whirl of activity. There was shouting, and sobbing, and a great deal of hugging, and everyone was trying to speak over everyone else. Hjalmar gave up on trying to make sense of what had happened after about twenty minutes of this. He retreated to a chair in the corner of the room, where there seemed no chance anyone would trip over him, and waited for everyone to calm down.
The only thing he was certain of was that somehow Rigmor was back and they had broken the spell. Something warned him that the Magician would not be happy about this. He kept a wary eye on the window in case any shadowy figures appeared at it.
~~~~
When it found itself thrown out of its host body, the parasite's first instinct was to flee to its master. It flew over hill and dale, invisible to mortal eyes, toward the Magician's lair. He was waiting when it arrived.
Now that it was no longer possessing Rigmor, it was just a shapeless, translucent mass of energy. Normal weapons, and most spells, would pass through the parasite without injuring it. But the Magician, who had created it, could disintegrate it without trace. It knew this. And so it came before him in fear and trembling.
His eyes swept over it. His mouth narrowed into a thin line. The parasite pressed itself low to the ground, too frightened to speak.
"So," the Magician said quietly. "The little witch has succeeded, has she? She broke my spell?"
"She answered all my riddles, master!" the parasite squeaked. "There was nothing I could do to stop her!"
"I'm sure there wasn't," the Magician agreed with a cruel smile. He waved his hand. With a shrill, piercing scream, the parasite dissolved into nothing. The Magician stalked past where it had been without a backwards glance. "I will deal with this myself."
~~~~
The first sign that something was wrong came only hours after Rigmor's return.
"It was terrifying," Rigmor was saying over a bowl of ice cream. "I could see and hear what that thing was doing, but I couldn't speak and I couldn't stop it. It was like I was sleepwalking."
The Queen shuddered and hugged her daughter tightly. "Don't worry, dear. It's over now."
That was when a servant girl collapsed, screaming, as boils burst into existence all over her face. Screams rang from all corners of the palace as other servants found the same thing happening to them.
"What's happening?" the King bellowed, jumping to his feet. "Is it an epidemic? A pestilence?"
Solvej hurried to the side of the servant girl, who was sobbing quietly, her body wracked with shudders. What the ghost found made her face pale -- quite a feat, considering how pale she naturally was.
"The Magician," she said. "He's cast a curse on the palace."
The King let out a series of blistering oaths. The Queen tried to cover both her own ears and Rigmor's, glaring fiercely at her husband all the while.
"Can you break it?" Hjalmar asked, coming over and kneeling beside her. He winced at the sight of the unfortunate servant girl's face, covered with large, oozing boils.
"I don't think I'll have to. Unless I'm wrong, this is a sort of curse that's used more as a warning than to inflict any lasting harm. It'll probably disappear in a few minutes."
As if on cue, the boils magically vanished from the girl's face and arms. She stopped sobbing in astonishment. Her face broke into a wide smile. Cries of joy and relief sounded from all over the palace as the same thing happened to everyone else afflicted.
"Thank goodness," the King said. In the same breath, he continued, "If that damned Magician ever dares show his face around here again, I'll take a sword and I'll shove it--"
"Ahem!" the Queen interrupted.
"...in his chest," the King finished after a moment's awkward silence. "Why, dear, what did you think I was going to say?"
His wife gave him a withering look. The King looked suitably abashed.
"Now," Queen Maibrit said in a business-like tone, "is the Magician going to cast any more curses?"
"It's impossible to tell," Solvej said. She reached out her hand and helped the servant girl to her feet. "Not until he actually casts one, anyway. And I don't know what sort of curses he'd choose, so I can't cast any spells to ward them off."
King Severin said a few more things. He certainly knew how to make his opinions known, that was for sure. Solvej was impressed by his vocabulary. She couldn't help but wonder where a king had learnt such words.
"When I get my hands on that bastard, I'll wring his scrawny neck!" the King roared, adding a few adjectives that made the Queen gasp, Rigmor and Hjalmar blush, and the servants giggle nervously.
"You'll have to wait your turn, dear," the Queen said, giving him a look that clearly said 'Watch your language!'. "I detest violence, but if I ever meet him I will take great pleasure in using him for archery practice."
Solvej's eyebrows flew up. The Queen practiced archery? Now there was a sight she would dearly love to see.
"But in the meantime, what do we do if he casts another curse?" Hjalmar asked.
Good question. Unfortunately, it was one without a good answer.