5. Sabin

It was growing dark as Hagen followed the little bird through the trees, deeply doubting his own sanity. He’d lost track of the shallow stream, but something moved him forward. He felt no thirst or hunger, no exhaustion.
The woodpecker flitted from tree to tree, guiding him. He shivered when he saw the light of a campfire through the trees.
“There they are,” said the bird quietly on his shoulder. “Now I will lure them out.”
“No!” Hagen objected but the bird took off.
He hid behind trees, peering through the darkness. The fire was bright and it was hard to make out the figures, but he recognized them. The Master was stirring the fire with a switch, the silver band glistening on his finger.
“We’ll never find the way out,” Hagen heard Richard’s voice.
“We’re doomed,” sighed Osmond.
“Shut yet traps,” the Master said. “I can hear something.”
He stepped away from the fire, scanning the trees around him.
“Alistair, stay here,” he said quietly. “You two, come with me. We’ve got company.”
The three men left the camp, searching for something in the woods.
“Now,” the woodpecker’s voice said next to Hager’s ear. “Come out to the fire.”
“Are you crazy?!” Hagen whispered back angrily.
“Hurry! Move!”
Hagen’s feet began moving him directly toward the fire. He couldn’t stop himself. He saw Alistair’s stout back in the bright light. He seemed to be sleeping. Suddenly he turned his head.
His mouth dropped open when he saw Hagen as if he’d seen a ghost. He dropped his dagger and clutched his chest, choking, then rolled over onto his side and became still.
“Now hide again!” the woodpecker said.
Soon the others returned to the camp.
The Master turned Alistair over and felt his neck for a heartbeat. He looked around with fear. It was the first time Hagen had seen him afraid.
“Get us out of this forest!” he said, addressing the ring on his hand.
There was a peal of thunder and a bright bolt of lightning struck the ground where the fire was burning, scattering it and igniting the nearby trees. Richard was the first to run off.
“Richard, come back!” the Master called after him but he was too blinded by fear to stop.
He turned to Osmond:
“It’s just bad weather. What’s gotten into you?!”
“You’ll kill us all!” he cried.
He took off too, following Richard’s path through the trees.
The Master stood like an obelisk among the flames.
“Where are you?” he yelled. “Come out, coward, and show yourself!”
Suddenly the ring jumped off his hand and headed straight for Hagen. He wanted to run from it but his feet were glued to the ground. The ring jumped onto his hand, just as the Master neared his hiding place. He was finally able to move and dashed off like a rabbit.
“Come back here!” he heard the Master’s voice behind him.
He ran fast, faster than he ever had in his life, the trees and scenery all a blur as if he were flying. The woodpecker flew overhead, occasionally cackling angrily at the master and swooping down to pluck at his hair.
“Head for the clearing!” Hagen heard the bird’s voice in his ear. Somehow the clearing appeared right in front of him, as if a part of the forest had shifted like a puzzle piece.
“Quickly now, summon the palace!” demanded the woodpecker.
Hagen tried to recall the tune the master had sung, but his singing was so terrible and off-key that he only made the woodpecker laugh.
“Oh god, I can neither sing nor remember the tune!” he cried. “Let there be night, Antarxis!” he said loudly, but nothing happened. “Oh, palace, please appear!”
The ring said: “Your wish is granted, my lord.”
The palace rose out of thin air just as before when the Master had summoned it. Hagen dashed through the garden past the mute statues, followed by the bird, who cawed: “Hurry, hurry, he’s closing in!”
He bumped the front door with his shoulder and ran inside. The door swung shut behind him, but as he ran down the hall he heard it open again and the sound of the Master’s feet.
He was afraid of becoming trapped in some room as happened the first time, but there was little choice and he dove into the first open door on his right. It was a bedroom and a small ornate door led from it into another room.
He stopped in his tracks. He saw a young woman sitting there in a lavish chair. She looked like a statue, her features sharp, her hair jet black.
He stood frozen in the doorway.
“Come in,” the woman said.
As Hagen stepped into the room the door closed quickly behind him and he heard the lock bar slide in.
“Who are you, miss?” he asked.
“I’m Sabin, the princess.”
“I’ve come to help you.”
“Come closer, Hagen. Show me your right hand.”
She took his hand, studying it. Her hands were ice-cold.
“Is it true?” he asked.
“What is?”
“That you burned down the palace?”
“Yes.”
“May I ask why?”
She sighed.
“Long ago, I met a handsome young traveler. He looked a bit like you. But the laws of our people forbade me from becoming his wife. I disobeyed and ran away, but they found us and took my son. They said they killed him and locked me up in a tower.”
“Did they really kill him?”
“I don’t know, but they are capable of worse things. So, I set the tower on fire, and the fire spread. I’ve been a prisoner here ever since.”
“There must be some way to free you, perhaps a magic spell?”
Sabin smiled.
“Your hands are so warm. I see you’re wearing my ring.”
“I didn’t mean to take it, I swear, it jumped right onto my hand.”
“I know. I’d much rather you have it than that one-eyed man.”
“What should I do?”
“Does the ring do as you say?”
“Yes, it seems to.”
“Then free me, Hagen. Make a wish for it.”
Hagen looked indecisively at the ring.
“I’ll try,” he said. “I wish Sabin to be freed from the palace.”
Before he could blink, Sabin disappeared in a bright flash.
“Hurry!” he heard her say, as the door swung open.
Hagen bolted out of the room, running down hallways painted with provocative pictures hidden among flowers and birds. One more turn where the naked woman was drinking wine served to her by a centaur, and he’d be at the exit.
“Stop, you whelp!” he heard the Master growl.
He tripped on the lush carpet around the corner and fell flat on his back. He saw a hand reach for his throat, his arm shot up to grab it, and then it all fell apart like a dream.

He was lying on the forest floor, the leaves his carpet and the trees around him, tapestries. There was no sign of the palace or his pursuer. Only the silver band on his finger remained.
He sat up, listening. He could hear the trickle of the stream on his left and wondered what became of Sabin. Did he free her? And was she really his mother as the woodpecker had said? Perhaps he just lied to encourage him.
Slowly Hagen made his way to the stream. He glanced at the shimmering water where the sun played and heard a familiar song. It was a lullaby he remembered hearing before on that night in the enchanted clearing, but perhaps even earlier than that.
He leaned over the water and through its moving screen he heard her say:
“Hagen, I thank you. I trust you will use the ring wisely. Not being by your side is my only regret.”
He felt invisible hands touch the sides of his face as a kiss fell lightly on his lips. He knelt on the bank, longing for her touch. He dipped his hands in the water, but now it was just a stream.

The end