The witch screamed, going rigid, eyes wide, staring back at the maiden-but Cordelia advanced, face cold, hands rising, nails glinting in the moonlight. The witch thrashed, trying to break free, but Rod held her-until suddenly, her eyes rolled up, and her head lolled. Cordelia nodded with grim satisfaction. "I know the manner of it now, how she bent his mind."

"I think you may have hurt her a little," Rod pointed out. "I take it she didn't want to let you know."

"Nay, but I did not wait upon her humor-and if she hath taken some pain from it, I fear I am not contrite." She turned away to her brother.

Rod smiled after her, watching her kneel by the snake, pride upwelling.

Cordelia lifted a hand, but the snake coiled away from her. "Why, how is this, my brother?" she asked, her voice soft, gentle. "I am as I ever was--only thy little sister, thy playfellow of childhood days."

Magnus looked a little reassured, but he glanced at her from toe to head, and stayed back.

"Ah, she hath maimed thee indeed!" Cordelia cried. "But gaze into mine eyes, brother, and try to trust! I love thee, for thou art of the same bone and blood as I. Thou hast done naught to regret, though thou wert sorely tempted, and the only blame that could attach to thee is that thou didst not tear that witch asunder when first thou didst see her!"

Magnus thawed enough to answer, mind to mind. I could not, without proof of wrongdoing.

"And indeed I should have been wroth with thee an thou hadst! But now I am not wroth, but proud! Nay, I see thy fear-but thou dost know me, and know I will be as good as my word! None shall know of this night's doings by my lips, brother; I shall never speak a word of thy misadventure, nor of the warping that the old witch wrought. Trust a little, brother, only a little, and ope thy mind to me for moments!"

The snake was still; then, slowly, he brought his head forward.

Cordelia touched his forehead, lightly as a feather, and her eyes glazed as her mind worked with his. Then, as Rod watched, the snake uncoiled, slithered away from the tree, and lifted its head until it hung poised two feet off the ground. Its form fluxed and flowed-and Magnus sat there cross-legged, naked but whole, his face ashen.

"Thou art restored!" Cordelia whirled up to her feet again, modestly turning her back on her naked brother. "Father, thy mantle!"

Rod whipped his cloak off, letting the witch fall, and reached down to help his son to his feet. Magnus towered over him, so the cloak was very short as Rod reached up to settle it around his shoulders-but it came to mid-thigh, and had slits for his arms.

Cordelia whirled back, throwing her arms around him. "Praise Heaven thou art come back to us!" Then she shuddered, and began to cry.

Magnus stood immobile a moment, then reached an arm around her shoulders and pressed his sister against his chest.

Another minute, and he found his voice. "I am well, sister, I am well-thanks to thee. Nay, I praise all the saints that thou wert born a sister to me!"

"Yet thou art not fully healed." Cordelia looked up at him, eyes filled with tears. "There are scars there yet, brotherand thou hadst not given me leave, so I did not linger to mend. Nay, I know not if I could have, so deeply did she wound thee."

"Peace, sister-'twas not her alone, but many, and in many bouts."

"But these are wounds that only women give!" Cordelia's tears dried instantly under the heat of anger and indignation. "Nay, how could they have used thee so!"

"Thou hast seen some among them," Magnus said softly. "The milkmaid who sought to entrap us, when Mother and Father were gone-the maids of the floating world, when we followed the sounding rocks.. ."

"Aye, I remember." The anger was gone, and Cordelia lifted a hesitant hand to her brother's cheek. "But I did not guess they had hurt thee so. Ah, Magnus! Have I misjudged thee all these years, then? Is there so tender a heart as that, under this warrior's hide?"

Magnus blushed, and let her go. "Thou hast given thy word thou wilt not reveal what thou hast learned this night. . . ."

"And most surely I will not! Oh, my poor brother!" Cordelia flung her arms about him protectively, though her head scarcely came to his breastbone. "Would I could undo the hurt so many lasses have given, that I could give such grace as to o'erbalance their cruelty-for I am a woman, too!"

" 'Tis not thy place." Magnus's arm came up again, embracing, comforting. "I must heal myself, must I not? Nay, sister, 'twas not thy doing, and thou must not hurt for me."

"How can I do otherwise!"

"Why, by being the bright and bonny lass of sunlight and good cheer that thou hast ever been." Magnus's lips touched her forehead briefly, vagrant as a wind. "Only be thyself, and thou shalt do as much as any can to heal me, and more." He held her away from himself and smiled down. "God willing, I shall do as much for thee as thou hast for me, though my province is warding, not healing."

Cordelia looked up in alarm.

Magnus laughed softly and squeezed her shoulder. "Nay, fear not, good sister-I'll not ward thee so closely as that! Nay, I shall not defend unless thou dost ask."

She smiled again, and joined his laughter.

Rod smiled too, and stepped forth. "If you two don't mind, I really don't think we should hang around." Cordelia looked up, saw the witch unconscious on the grass, and nodded. "But what shall we do with her?"

"I think we might leave her to natural forces." Rod turned to the trees and called out:

By oak and ash, By earth and flood! Come forth, all Who live by wood!

The night was still a moment, and the witch's eyes flew open wide, flicking from one side to the other. The whites showed all around her irises, bloodshot. She began to tremble.

Then the long grass stirred, and a foot-high figure stepped forth. Another joined it; more came from the underbrush. Then a branch moved aside, and an eighteen-inch figure stepped out, broad-shouldered and large-headed. Its face tilted up to the light, and it grinned. "I had thought if thou hadst come this way, there might be summat of a stir."

The witch moaned.

"Right as always." Rod smiled slowly. "How nice to see you, Puck."

"Is it truly? What hast thou in store for me?"

Rod nodded toward the lump of flesh on the grass. "Know anything about this one?"

The hag moaned.

Puck's eyes glinted in the moonlight like chips of ice. "Aye, we know of her. When she hath come forth, she hath used her magic to strike at the Wee Folk who dwell nearby. She hath hurled old nails to fend us off, and hath injured many and slain two."

Rod nodded. "We'll leave her to you, then." He turned away, catching Magnus's and Cordelia's arms and moving toward the forest path. Cordelia stepped aside to catch up her broomstick before she came along-not quite quickly enough to escape hearing the hag scream with terror, a scream that was cut off in the middle. Cordelia shuddered and hurried on under the shelter of the bare branches. "Father..."

"They're merciful, in their way," Rod said firmly. "You can be sure she won't have even a fraction of the pain she's given others."

"Yet without trial . . ." Magnus said.

Rod looked up, startled. "Don't tell me you think she could be innocent!"

"Why, certes not!"

"Well, then." Rod nodded. "Don't worry-the elves have their own form of due process. They won't even need you two as witnesses. And, son-the Wee Folk don't generally spread gossip. At least, not to mortal people."

Magnus nodded, relaxing a little more. "Thou wilt say naught of this to my brothers?"

"Of course not-nor to your mother, either."

"Unless she doth ask," Magnus qualified.

"Well, yes. But don't worry-she can keep a secret, too."

"As to that--" Cordelia frowned. "Wherefore didst thou summon me, and not Mama?"