IN THE DAYS OF WIZARDRY

In the Ancient Days, Tara Erianìeld the Great, first Queen of Taria , slew Sinistrus Noxin I, merciless monarch of the dreaded Dark Lands, in warfare, though she too fell at the Battle of Starheart. Then a long and bloody feud began between the Houses of Erianìeld and Noxin. In due course, all had to take sides. The gryffins, the giants, the trolls, the sorcerers, the goblins, the Renegade elves and fairies, the acromantulae, and the cockatrices sided with the House of Noxin. The Faithful elves, the fairies, the centaurs, the naiads and dryads, the magicians, and the unicorns supported the Royal House of Erianìeld. In the present day, war rages on, unbeknownst to all outside of Taria, save the magical communities of witches and wizards across the globe.

Now, and still for years to come, a towering shape rises above the luxuriant grass: Tara Hill. If someone with sharp eyes looks very closely in just the right place, said observer could see a largish door camouflaged in the south side. Wizards call it the Meeting Door. The door is unopenable without the password: "Tara Erianèeld." This door leads to anywhere in any universe, like all others of its kind

Tara, Ireland, 19-

An auburn-haired figure (Merry O'Connor was her name) whispered the password into the door, which obligingly swung open to admit her. It revealed a staircase leading deep into the ground, yet it took a surprisingly short time to get to the foot of it. When Merry got to the base of the stairway, she found herself in a hall of stone that buzzed with an aura of elvish power, where pillars of stone engraved with powerful runes held up the ceiling carved with scenes of the life of Queen Tara ErianÌeld.

"You're late, O'Connor," rang the High Judge Connelly's nasal whine across the room.

"There were quite a lot of tourists. I couldn't very well open a door in Tara Hill in front of eighty-some people and-"

"Now listen, O'Connor: you know perfectly well that you are the only girl who holds a seat in the Courtroom, and so you are like a symbol. You're contributing to the image of girls and women, and so you cannot afford to make a bad impression."

"First of all, I am not the only female person here; Queen Erianen" (by which she meant Queen Erianen IX of Taria) "is here as well. Second, does it make a bad impression if there are a lot of tourists at an ungodly hour because of a stupid myth that sprites dance around Tara Hill and the Lia Fa ìl, to make Fairy Rings, at midnight?" Merry snapped back.

"It makes a bad impression if you're impertinent to a superior."

"Superior my foot. If it comes to a question of intelligence, then you have no right to boss me around. Would it be so hard for you to stop stating the rule book, let me take my seat, and start doing what we're here for?"

"You may take your seat, O'Connor," was the exasperated response.

"Yessir," said Merry, taking her seat and putting her feet on her desk.

"Put your feet off your desk, O'Connor."

Merry ignored this.

"Come now, Your Majesty, calm yourself," attempted the judge.

"No! I absolutely shall not! I knew Señora Doña Catalina Sofia Maria Isabel Juana de Galicia Asteria and her husband personally!"

"Cwenyé sainel, tharlen hiélmarin maryená! Féilo sameroìn tygal, hiarso teriánor!"

Anyone could see that this bald, slightly fat man who was inclined to splutter was no match for this formidable grande dame with her stiff, stately carriage, and her calm and politely autocratic tones (though they were not calm now). He said, "The facts as we know them stand thus: Lord Sinistrus in person-in person, mind you-tried to bring them over to the Tories' side, failed...and the rest is history."

Queen Erianen proceeded to trail off into furious, perfectly clear and audible medieval insults directed to Sinistrus expressing cruelty (to put it mildly) in her native language and several others. I will not write them here.

"But we have ...another slight problem," admitted the judge.

At this, Merry jumped out of her seat.

"You call it slight? I've an idea what the problem is and, if I'm correct, it's anything but slight!"

"What is your idea, O'Connor?"

"Well, you see, there is still one Asteria left, and-" began the sassy adolescent.

For once, the judge cut her off, instead of the opposite.

"Of course. I know that. She caused the whole problem."

"And he-Sinistrus-did not kill the daughter, Amy, because apparently she had a shield spell on her. And a very effective and powerful one it was to boot, by the looks of it; to protect a mere child-she is only 600, after all-from the Mortiuri spell!"

"So if you know so much, O'Connor, what should we-"

A loud banging on the door interrupted the judge midsentence.

"Who goes there?" he barked.

"Jason Cooper! I've got news of utmost importance to deliver to Judge Connelly in person!"

"Come in, Jason!" said James "Jim" Rankin, one of the Jury, though had no right to do so.

"So, what is this 'news of utmost importance'?" inquired Connelly. At this, Sean Neville raised his quill pen.

The tall, russet-haired, robust man of thirty-odd delivered the intelligence in short gasps:

"The Asterias...they're alive!"

Ravenswing Castle

A search party led by Merry found the Asterias in their basement, the old dungeon. They were famished, but alive.

"I am loath to tell you this, as you probably know," Queen Erianen informed them, "But you must stay under cover. If you stay here, though, the one called 'The King of the Shadows' by his followers will come and get you-and this time he shall slay you for real." The queen unrolled a world map. "You must go far away, yet close enough to keep contact. I think it can be managed."

The Asterias left Ireland, and became the Blacks. Amy became Anne Black and went to live in England with her formidable, stingy, and austere aunt, the excellent Mrs. Alice Murray. Amy's parents fled elsewhere. Ten years later, the first thing happened that is worth telling.

I: In Which an Unexpected Visitor Arrives

Somewhere in England

The night heat was overwhelmingly oppressive. It crushed onto Amy Asteria's head like a massive tidal wave that smelled of sweat and attracted mosquitoes. She had just had a scanty dinner and was preparing to change into her pajamas when someone knocked at the door.

Amy peered through the small hole in the door. She saw only darkish red hair. The visitor, it seemed, was standing off to the side of the door so that Amy could not tell who it was.

"Anybody home?" said the visitor.

"Who is it? Tell me and I'll let you in," hissed Amy.

"My Christian name is Maevea Elinor and my surname is O'Connor."

"Please come in," offered Amy politely.

"I shall do so with pleasure. I find it rather disagreeable to converse through the mail slot."

Amy opened the door, and a young person with dark red hair walked through. Maevea O'Connor was Merry's sister, as you may have guessed. She was maybe a little shorter, and her tresses a little darker, but she looked a great deal like Merry. Amy, who was a sensible young woman, called her aunt, who came down in a timely fashion. Mrs. Murray gave a start when she saw Maevea.

"You've returned, then? If you've come to deliver that letter, then you might as well get out."

"I shall push past you and deliver this letter to its addressee and there is nothing you can do about it. Do you have anything against your niece learning to defend herself?"

"She doesn't need to be taught how to defend herself. She will not go with you."

"Maybe she could read her letter and decide for herself. Do be sensible, Mrs. Murray."

"Please, Aunt Alice," beseeched Amy. "Could I just read this letter and decide for myself?"

"Very well, Miss. Go right ahead. I shall take no responsibility whatsoever for anything that arises as a consequence."

Maevea produced an envelope of thick yellowish parchment from the folds of her long black mantle and handed it over to Amy. There was a wax seal on the fat envelope. An L, a C, a B, and another C were set around a flamboyant letter R. There was nothing written on the envelope except:

Miss Amy Catalina Elizabeth Anne Asteria
C/o Mrs. Alice Murray
2317 Harebell Court
Somewhere in England

There was no return address, no postmark, and no stamp!

"This can't be for me! My name is Anne Black!"

"Don't you notice anything? Amy Asteria's last middle is Anne...Yours is Amy. Your full name is Anne Elizabeth Catalina Amy. You both have three middle names!"

"You mean it's reversed?"

"Yes. You are Amy Asteria."

Amy masked her shock by a petulant, "Now she tells me."

Amy broke the seal and began to read.

The letter ran, hurriedly written in purple ink:

Dear Miss Asteria,

We have great need of your help at Ravenswing Castle and will not hide from you that there is more than slight danger. We must vanquish S-

A blur followed, but Amy still knew it meant Sinistrus

-soon, or we will lose this war.

Yours sincerely,

Erianen of Taria

Queen Erianen IX of Taria

Lady Gemma Boleyn

Lady Gemma Boleyn

"You have two choices," said Maevea." Come with me. Discover the world where you belong, the magical world. Or don't come with me."

Amy looked at the white-feathered, gold-dusted wings beating the air and smiled. Then she grabbed her coat off the coat rack.

"I'll come with you, whoever you are. If what you say is true-- "

Maevea grabbed her hand and shouted a word so full of power that Amy shivered. The hall disappeared. In its stead appeared a whirlwind; Amy and Maevea were in what is called its eye. Suddenly, the twister stopped. Amy and the strange messenger were floating above the clouds. It was lovely but fleeting. Suddenly they both plummeted through the soft cushion of miasma.

II: In Which Amy Enters a Bubble

Trunk dragging ingloriously behind her, Amy stood on the seashore, shivering, for the jeans and parka she was wearing were, like all the other clothes she owned, shabby and worn in the extreme.

The whole turnout was less than a score of persons. All were figuratively deep-frozen. A long stream of gargantuan bubbles emerged from the sea. They glided on the surface thereof and stopped on the shore. The older elves heaved sighs of relief and stepped into the transparent globes, motioning to the new kids to follow suit.

It was a strange sensation. Amy felt like someone (or something) was drenching her in warm water, which then turned icy cold; then she emerged, warm, into a room that resembled a train compartment in every aspect.

Amy then met Will Cooper and his sister Kat; Shelby and Trilby Cox; Jim Baker; Nita Rodriguez; and Tom Rankin: her traveling fellows. They were all 11, like Amy, with the exception of Trilby Cox, age 12, Shelby's older sister.

They were chatting agreeably when a sneering girl with a pale face entered the compartment, flanked on her left side by a girl who had an uncanny resemblance to a toad and on her right by another girl who looked strangely like a goose. A girl and a boy whose physiques were both in keeping with the general image one has of a bully trailed behind.

"Which one of you is Amy Asteria?" demanded the pale-faced girl.

Amy was about to speak when a sharp kick from Trilby Cox warned her to keep silent.

Instead, Trilby stood up and challenged, "In any case, it is the custom when you wish to fetch someone to introduce yourself. Besides, first, Amy Asteria is not here, she is in the Brazil shift: it takes longer to get to the Meeting Door from Brazil than from Dover, remember? And why didn't you come from Vladivostok so we wouldn't have the pleasure of your company?"

"So you know who I am, Cox?"

Trilby did not flinch when the girl said her name.

"I know who you are: Lyudmilla Valenka, daughter of Vladimir Valenka the Black, the parvenu magician and pseudo-lord of Port Tárenor who is really a usurper... I have met you before, when I was under some other guise. I am 1200, whereas you are only 100 years old."

At this, Amy very nearly choked in surprise. She whispered to Shelby, with whom she had become fast friends, "OnlyOnly 100 years old?"

"Yes. Valenka is a Renegade elf. Tara Erianíeld the Great shortened their life spans as punishment, and now rare are the Renegades who pass the age of 1000."

The girls then turned their attention back to the conversation, which was growing more heated.

"What are you doing at this castle, then?" derided Valenka.

"Same as you. If you had bothered to read your books before you came, you would've learned that you divide a Faithful elf's age by 100 to get the official age. Thus, my official age is 12; therefore, I am going to Ravenswing to defend Taria. Naturally, I did not count on suffering your presence. I thought you were going to learn the Renegade Elven-crafts in the Nameless Realm."

"Your rudeness shows clearly that you're trying to hide something, Cox."

"It's the least I can do to be rude to someone whose father deposed mine."

"Oh yes, now I remember the affair: Rhendon of Tárenor deposed, the rightful master holding his rightful patrimony-"

Valenka had gone too far. Shelby and Trilby rose in wrath and drew broadswords that gleamed blue, engraved with runes for the bane of the Renegades.

"Your father is notnot the rightful lord! He cannot be for the very good reason that Tara Erianìeld the Great bestowed Tárenor upon the Coxes, and Renegade and Faithful families cannot be related!" cried Shelby.

Lyudmilla Valenka drew a sword made of a metal that was black as jet, yet shiny, carved with foul writing, from a scabbard that was covered in what seemed to be blood.

"How courageous you both are! One versus two! none!'"cited Lyudmilla Valenka.

"'You are dirty and insolent, Sandyman, and very much out of your reckoning ,'" Trilby quoted from the same book. "I do not defy you one versus two, but single-handedly: on guard!"

Trilby Cox, being a hardened fighter, swiftly disarmed Valenka in one deft sword stroke.

The two boys and the girls stepped forward, swords unsheathed.

Amy, who was loath to let Trilby and Shelby face these bullies alone, unbolted her trunk, and took out a sheathed broadsword, which she had named Arénia. The owner of the armory had told her that he did not really sell swords, just kept them so they would be handed down. Thus, Arénia (that is Fire)-Amy had given her a new name, for every time a sword gets a new owner it receives a different name-was a family heirloom, dating back to the time of Tara Erianéeld.

"On guard, you brute!" Amy challenged the boy.

Whether Amy had a natural ability in battle, or whether the sword strengthened her heart and limb, despite her weariness and undernourishment it was easy for her to wield Arénia.

With one adroit twist of her wrist, Amy neutralized the pimply boy and faced the girl who looked like a toad. She was harder; it took two moves to disarm her.

"Hey, you're good!" yelled Shelby, locked in furious combat with the girl who looked like a goose, who was much better than the toadish one.

"She's excellent!" cried Trilby. "I daresay, Amy, that you could even defeat the arms master, Smoke!"

After awhile, Nita, Will, Kat, Tom, and Jim sent the group packing using their blades.

"Do you believe that Valenka is no longer a Renegade? All who think so say aye," declared Amy.

The most total silence followed.

"Those who do not: say nay."

Eight nays rang through the compartment.

"I can't believe that Queen Erianen asked the RenegadesRenegades for help! She must be mad!" exclaimed Amy.

"Either she is daft, significantly injudicious, or awfully desperate," said Jim.

"I vote for desperate. Being 7000 has not clouded the queen's wits," replied Trilby. "She is able still to command an army and to ride at its head, to fight, to take her own counsel and great risks; in short, to do anything that a 2000-year-old queen could do."

"But I thought we were winning the war!" said Nita.

"Where'd you hear that?" inquired Kat.

"Well, when Valenka was talking to her friends she said, 'We're winning this war for sure,' and I was near and I overheard," replied Nita.

"We doesn't necessarily mean the Tarians. I think that I ought to warn the Queen. This is further proof that Valenka is still a renegade and not redeemed; the problem is that nobody would believe a 1200-year-old," despaired Trilby.

"The Queen wouldn't believe even a 1700-year-old. She'd believe someone who'd come into their majority ,"replied Shelby.

Without warning, the bubble landed and burst.

III: In Which Amy is dubbed

"Looks like Arianór," said Trilby on seeing the capital of Taria.

Day had descended upon the City like some benevolent gyrfalcon, illuminating the White Tower and Ravenswing Castle, gilding the turrets made of Ariòs, the elvish gold, and turning Fort Silverstone into a snow-white flame.

The elves proceeded to trudge over to the sign that said "Ravenswing" and had a circle drawn in chalk around it. When they stepped into it, they disappeared.

Amy braced herself and stepped into the circle.

She reappeared in the courtroom into which Jason Cooper had run ten years before to announce that the Asterias were alive.

Trilby motioned to the new kids to choose a desk. She, having done so, propped her feet on her desk, as was the habit of the seasoned fighters.

A voice rang through the courtroom:

"New fighters, stand up! Old fighters, feet off your desk!"

Trilby ignored the speaker's command. The new fighters obeyed and turned to face the speaker. They found themselves looking at a woman of great majesty who looked neither old nor young; her hair was jet black and had not a strand of grey, and no wrinkle marred her fair and queenly face, yet her azure eyes spoke of the wisdom of centuries. She was Queen Erianen XI of Taria.

"The new fighters, come with me; the old fighters, you know what to do. By the way, Miss Cox, you still have not taken your feet off your desk."

"I know, Your Majesty," Trilby answered.

With the queen in the lead, the new students hurried down a hallway, on the walls of which were hung tapestries woven with bright colors that looked horribly real: "horribly" real because the scenes depicted on the wall hangings were anything but pleasant.

At last, the procession came to an open courtyard. Its floor was lush with grass. The queen lined the elves up in a row, starting with Amy for some reason. Next, she signaled to Amy to come forward and kneel, and handed her Arénia. Then Amy swore fealty to the queen, who dubbed her Arnel of Lionhearts team.

As Amy joined Trilby, who still stoically refused to take her feet off her desk, the latter whispered to her in admiration:

"I didn't know you were heir to the throne!"

"I am?" breathed Amy.

"Arnel means princess, remember? And when you're dubbed, it's according to who you are, remember?"

"And I'm not an old fighter, so I wouldn't know, remember?" Amy snapped back.

"Stop talking. Shelby's being dubbed."

"I dub thee Isaria," said the queen.

"Isaria means valiant," said Trilby for Amy's benefit.

"I never thought my sister'd be dubbed Valiant. I thought she'd be dubbed Maìrenel, learned."

Will was being dubbed; he was not given an elvish name but a Latin one, Phoebus. Nita was dubbed Nàresel, musician; Kat Réyed, swift; Tom Taìrel, strong; and Jim Sérnelor, skillful, and all in Lionhearts.

"Remind me again why you get dubbed?" asked Will to Trilby.

"Because you can't become a proper elf with being dubbed."

IV: In Which Amy has her First Duel

Soon Amy got to know everyone's name: the girl who looked like a goose was Dacey Gregory, and she was called Goose by most. The toadish one was Hattie Clifton, and she was called Toad. The boy who was a bully was Adolf Vassili, just called Vassili; and the girl who looked like him was his sister, Mashka Vassili, just called Vassili also, which caused some confusion. They were all the virtual slaves of Valenka.

Before long, the fencing classes started. Amy delighted in them. She was excellent, the best in her class. Though it had never been done before, the Lionhearts fencing team members nearly went down on their knees to ask her to play in the tournament, as their best fencer had left to become a Dawner . Trilby was in it, and the others were over third year.

The day of the tournament dawned bright and clear. With her elvish chain mail under her scarlet tunic, she stood on the pitch, broadsword in hand. This tournament consisted rather of a skirmish in which two armies of seven attacked each other. At the end of thirty minutes, the team with the most players who still had swords in their hands won.

Amy discovered that Scremlin, the best fencer in the Catspaws team, was going to battle her.

From the stands, Amy heard cheers, or rather a chant:

Amy Asteria is a dream,

The world's best fencer's on our team.

Amy was nervous, but the cheer helped her a lot.

The referee, who was the queen in person, winded a silver and green horn, and the battle began.

As had been arranged, Scremlin charged straight towards Amy. Her thrust was a pushover to deflect. Even if she had struck, Amy's mail, wrought of the elvish silver, Fiénrel, would have turned the blow anyway.

Amy put Arénia under Scremlin's sword, Maislorim, and rotated her blade around the other, a fencing technique that was Amy's specialty. Maislorim fell to the ground.

Amy then proceeded to take care of Benito Panatela, who seemed intent on making an incurable dent in her skull. She disarmed him in one practiced sword stroke.

Trilby had defeated Gerald Hartwell and was finishing up with Ugo Escamander.

The Catspaws team was beaten in a matter of minutes. While the Lionhearts team received bronze medals (they would get silver after two victories, and gold after three), the Catspaws team slunk away with their tails between their legs.

Next, they had to beat the Crosswands team, which was a little harder. It took Elena Venyova, the worst Lionhearts fencer but pretty good, six whole moves beat their best fencer, Jenkinson, to the ground. Then, ignoring the rules, he picked his blade up again, but Amy "fixed" him.

The last tournament was the most climatic of the three. It was against Blackfang, and it had been decided that Amy would fight Valenka.

On the day of the competition, the air was heavy with moisture, and menacing dark clouds loomed on the horizon. In the locker room, Amy began to sweat. The sweat was not due to the humidity that was in the air, but to fear: an irrational fear, she tried to convince herself, but it was fear.

When Amy entered the arena, she heard the chant, which heartened her somewhat.

Then the Blackfang team entered the pitch. Valenka charged her: it was the exact same move as Scremlin. But there was one strange thing: Valenka was very good this time, nearly as good as Elena Venyova was. Amy knew this was not natural, because she was in the same fencing class as her arch-nemesis, and the day before she had been execrable; she could not have become better overnight. As Amy fenced to the sound of

Amy Asteria is a dream,

The world's best fencer's on our team,

She realized that this pale-faced, sneering girl whom she was fighting was not the real Lyudmilla Valenka, but an impostor. An impostor who was an excellent fencer, therefore it could be nobody who was a Blackfang. Nor could it be any student, because all the good fencers were in Lionhearts. Who did that leave?

A teacher.

A memory rang through her mind:

Professor Smoke, the arms master, was both usually a mediocre fencer (which made everyone wonder why he was a fencing teacher) and very strict: no private duels, no fencing practice after dark. But he never caught Amy, because she and her friends always smelled him, or rather his cigars. They used to joke about it before they took to their heels:

"Do you smell Smoke?" (Meaning also cigar smoke).

"Yeah. Let's split, before he splits us-in half!"

And right then, Amy could smell the bitter smell of Havana cigars.

She also could see something in "Valenka's" hand:

A blade of Renegade make.

No Faithful elf could wield a Renegade blade without dying.

But then...But then...But no, it couldn't be, Amy told herself.

If the impostor was Smoke - disguised as Valenka through a spell - then Smoke was a Renegade. But Smoke was Prime Minister. If the Prime Minister was a Renegade...

Everything strange and unexplained, from the recruiting of Renegades to Smoke's fencing skills, fell into beautiful shining order.

Smoke had persuaded the queen to enlist Renegades and to make him fencing master. He had been a rotten teacher so that his students could not learn anything. He fenced well when the queen was watching so that she would think the students were learning. He gave the Renegades posts where they could discover state secrets. Of course. That explained why the Other Side had won the Battle of Toryn Plains. A Renegade who had a key position had given the tactic away. It could only have been Smoke; no Renegade could be raised so high as to be privy to the game plan. The only others who could be wise to the battle stratagem had won too many battles to be suspected. And Smoke had replaced Valenka (probably without the latter's consent) to do Amy in because she was too good and would help the army.

Amy fenced badly for a few moments, to get Smoke off his guard, then performed her specialty move. Her opponent's sword, Húdlekh, clanged on the ground.

"Why did it take you so long to best her, Amy?" asked Elena.

"Because this is not the real Lyudmilla Valenka."

Then Amy called forth all her magic power and said:

"If thou art not Lyudmilla Valenka, unmask thyself, I say!"

There was a flash of red light, and Valenka fell to the ground. An irate Smoke was left standing. With a snarl, he picked up Húdlekh leapt towards Amy.

V: In Which a Renegade is Unmasked

Amy blocked the swipe just in time, for it would have struck her unprotected neck.

The fight was long and hard, for although Amy was the better fencer, Smoke was fighting with the energy of despair. But Amy did not blench; she knew that Smoke would wear himself out with fighting so hard.

When Smoke finally started to show signs of tiredness, Amy seized the chance. She preformed her move. Húdlekh tumbled to the ground.

The queen stepped forward.

"Prime Minister Smoke, consider yourself no longer Prime Minister and under arrest."

Then she turned to Amy.

"Miss Asteria, congratulations. Your team has won the tournament."

She passed the Ravenswing Trophy to Amy, who took it and held it aloft.

The cheers of her teammates rang in her ears:

"We won! We won!"

Amy knew this was a day she would never forget.

The End