Gaal the Conqueror (20 page)

John was both scared and angry. "So that's what the enchantment was all aboutl Now we know."

"Aren't they beautiful?" Eleanor said, unable to take her eyes
from the jewels. "Look, each one is in the shape of a flower!"

"Eleanor! Eleanor, listen! You don't seem to realize-"

"Oh, but I do! They must be worth a fortune. When I get
back my dad will-" She placed the coronet carefully on her
head, throwing aside the faded flowers.

"Eleanor, don't you see? It was Shagah again. I know we
didn't see him, but we didn't see him at the pool, or in the wood
the night the trees nearly got us. It was Shagah-"

"She said she was a servant of Faunus. Hm! Servant of Faunus. Who's Faunus, I wonder? You know I used to dream about
being a princess. I never thought that one day.. ..... She paused
to adjust the necklace. Her back was turned to John, so she never saw his open-mouthed shock.

"We're in danger, Eleanor. You shouldn't have done it! You
fell for the enchantment. It probably began with picking the
rose."

"Here, help me with these bracelets. I can't fasten this one
with my left hand."

John stood in front of her. With a great effort he controlled
his feelings. Waiting until she looked up at him, he said, "Take
them off, Eleanor. It's enchantment. We-you fell for it. The
very thing you were scared of has happened."

She smiled happily. "Don't be silly. Here, help me with this
bracelet."

"Eleanor, don't you see? They fooled us. It's more of Shagah's work. It's dangerous."

Eleanor continued to look at him steadily. Quietly she thrust
the bracelets into a pocket in the front of her dress. To John
she seemed transformed, not so much by the jewels as by a new
selfpossession that he had not seen even in her best moments.
She said, "You're scared, aren't you? I can see it." Her voice
softened. "That's how I was only a few minutes ago."

"I'm not scared, Eleanor, I'm, I'm-well perhaps I am a bit.
But some fear is good. You were right when you said this place
is dangerous."

"I'm never going to be afraid again."

"No, I know but-but all the same, enchantment is enchantment and-"

"What enchantment? There is no enchantment, don't you
see?"

Eleanor had turned and was walking along the path, so that
he was obliged to follow her, and since the path was narrow
just there, he found himself talking to the back of her head.
"You know yourself what happened at the pool and at the
tower," he continued. She was striding ahead merrily, and he
had to hurry to keep up with her.

"Yes, but what happened this time?" she asked, without turning. "This is more like Gaal, rescuing us. It's good, John. It even
feels good!"

"All the same-" His voice trailed into silence. He began to
have doubts about whether he was right or not. Eleanor was not
behaving as she had done when they were in the cage together.
This was a new Eleanor, relaxed and sure. of herself. For a few
moments they walked on in silence, Eleanor striding ahead
almost as though she had new. legs as well as new jewels. But
John perpetually frowned and stared at the path that seemed
to flow backward beneath his striding feet.

His replies to her became monosyllabic. He had felt good
about encouraging her in the garden, when she was afraid.
Now he felt useless. The farther they walked, the more confused and depressed he grew. How could the incident with the
living statue be anything but evil? Yet on the other hand, how
could it be a bad thing that had happened to Eleanor? Her next
words seemed to pick up his thoughts.

"And now all my fear is gone. I'm not afraid anymore."

The path, which still followed the eastward course of the
descending stream, had widened, and they were now walking
beside each other. "I'm glad you're not afraid," he said. "But
remember when you wanted to pick the rose the first time?"

"Yes?"

"Well, you-what I mean is that it's all right to be afraid, and
that it's silly to do something just because you're scared to do
it. I'm scared of heights, but I wouldn't jump off a cliff just
because I was scared to. Would you?"

Eleanor laughed. "Of course not. But I might climb the cliff."

`Just because you were scared?"

"Sure. Now I would. You must admit it turned out all right."

"But I still say it's stupid."

"Why?"

"Well, in that case you'd spend your life doing everything you were scared of. That's not what life's about."

Eleanor said nothing for a few moments. Then she said, "I
probably won't need to now. It's funny. I kind of feel I'm not
going to be scared of anything anymore. I ... I'm different."

Again there was silence. This time John broke it. "Eleanor,
fear can be a good thing as well as a bad thing. I remember
that when I was on the lake with my dad, I was scared when
I was making up my mind whether to come for you or not. I
tried to hide it from him-pretending I was sort of excited. But
then it was right to do the thing I was scared of. There are other
times when it's wrong, when fear is good."

Eleanor stopped and they faced each other. She was shaking
her head. "Fear is never good," she said. "If you lived at our
house and knew-" She drew in a deep breath. "Well, I won't
be scared of my dad anymore. Not anymore. I won't ever be
scared of him again." She smiled, and John thought once again
how very beautiful she was. "I hate him," she said huskily. "I've
just realized what the feeling is. It's hate. It's like armor all
round me. Fear can't touch me now." Slowly she turned to
resume the walk along the pathway.

After a few moments she said, "I guess I hated him all along,
only I never realized it till now. It's funny. It was really Gaal
who took my fear of him away, but it's only since all my fear
is gone that I know I hate him."

John said, "I was scared of him myself that night. But we were
so worried about you that we didn't have time to think about
him. What were you going to do?"

"I just didn't care what happened anymore. I thought I'd
freeze to death."

"We thought you might have been going to that farm, but
your footprints were going toward the middle of the lake."

Sunlight had broken through the trees, and as Eleanor shook
her head she scattered flashes of color from the coronet. "No.
I didn't care where I went. I didn't want to see him ever again. I didn't even care if I saw my mother again. She didn't know
everything-at least I don't think she did."

"My dad said she used to get beaten up-"

"Whenever she tried to protect me. Dad said it was all my
fault, and I believed him. In a way I still do. But I'll never be
afraid of him again. I'm going to go on hating him instead."

"What will happen to your mom?"

"I don't know. Some day I'm going to-oh, what's the use?
One thing's for sure. I shall sell these jewels and buy a new
house for mom and me."

That evening they came across a Gaal tree. Eleanor took off
her jewels and dropped them at the foot of the tree.

"Whatever are you doing that for?" John asked in astonishment.

"No one will steal them."

"Perhaps not. But it's such an odd thing to do."

A momentary shadow of bewilderment crossed Eleanor's
face. "Yes, it is an odd thing to do, isn't it?"

Then shrugging her shoulders she passed inside the Gaal
tree. There was a hot meal waiting for them, a meal which John
devoured greedily for they had not eaten all day. Eleanor
seemed strangely uncomfortable and ate hardly anything, saying that she was not hungry. They talked very little, and John,
who was sleepy after the meal went to bed early.

He woke in the middle of the night and was instantly wide
awake. He thought about Eleanor's odd action in dropping the
jewels at the door of the Gaal tree, and of her inability to eat
once inside. Slowly his body filled with fear. "Eleanor," he
thought. "And Shagah! Oh, Gaal, I wish you were here. Something must have happened to her with those jewels. They must
give him some sort of power over her."

A shaft of moonlight fell across his bed from a window, and
he stumbled out of bed toward it, leaning on the windowsill,
and wondering as he had done since the very first time he had slept in a Gaal tree how there could be windows through which
you looked from the inside of the tree, but none that you could
ever see from outside. The stream was fifteen yards away, separated from them by an open grassy area. The same moonlight
that stilled and soothed the sleeping trees disturbed John and
increased his uneasiness. Why was he worried about Eleanor?
Surely she would be sleeping.

A faint sound of music caught his ear, and he glanced to the
right where the trees came right down to the path by the stream.
Soon he was able to distinguish singing, and stared at where
the path emerged from the trees. The voice was a woman's
voice-or a girl's. He could feel the muffled beating of his
heart. Then he saw her, emerging not along the path but
through the trees themselves, whirling, leaping, dancing, singing. He could hear some of the words now. They beat on his
head in their terrifying insanity.