Creeping Shadow bore constantly in mind the parting words of her mistress, and when she had waited patiently until many hours had passed and still the Shadow Witch did not return, she knew the time had come to go in search of her. Saying nothing to her fellow-servants of her errand, she set out without further delay.

As she went through the garden and out into the dim stretches of the Land of Shadows, she kept careful watch, that she might not overlook her dear mistress, in case she should be approaching on her homeward way.

She reached the Plain of Ash and stood for a moment to scan it far and wide. Only the grey expanse, dotted with low hills and mounds of ash lay before her. Not a living creature moved upon its surface.

Sure then that mischief had indeed befallen the Shadow Witch, she sped away across the Plain, and with an anxiously beating heart arrived at the entrance to the Cave of Darkness. She plunged into it. In the long corridor that led to the Cave Hall, she met, from time to time, Imps coming and going upon their master’s business, and she hoped that they might give her some news of her mistress.

“Tell me,” she cried to one, “Is my mistress, the Shadow Witch still in the Cave?” But the Imp laughed jeeringly in her face and disappeared, making no answer.

A second servant of the Wizard passed her, and when she asked him the same question, he gave her an impertinent reply and vanished also.

More uneasy, then, than ever, because of their behavior, she went on her way in silence and came to the great Cave Hall. Never before had she entered it alone. In a huge chair, near to the farther wall, she saw the Wizard sitting. His shaggy brows were bent over a Book of Craft, wherein were written all those ancient and cruel spells in which he most delighted. An evil vapor floated from the pages of the book and, circling round his head, half hid his grim face and dingy beard. It crept along the folds of his black garments and settled slowly about his feet, veiling them in a yellow mist.

The Shadow beheld him with dread. She feared to speak with him. But one whom she loved was in danger. Without making a sound, she drew nearer until she stood directly before him.

“Sir Wizard,” she cried, “I come to seek my mistress.”

Her voice, echoing through the silent Cave Hall, roused the Wizard from his evil studies. He threw back his head in angry astonishment. “You Shadows grow impudent,” he exclaimed frowning. “Who has given you leave to intrude upon me in my Cave?”

In spite of the indignant glance he cast upon her, Creeping Shadow was not daunted. “I came to seek my mistress,” she repeated. “She herself has bade me do so. Tell me, then, where I shall find her?”

“You seek her here in vain,” declared the Wizard. “I will give you no news of her, neither will I be disturbed. Begone at once or it will be the worse for you.”

“Nay, but I must know what you have done to her,” persisted Creeping Shadow. “It was to follow the Chief Imp, whom you sent, that she left her Garden of Shadows. It was here that she bade me seek her if she did not return. The time has been long, and I have come to obey her commands.”

The sharp eyes of the Wizard flashed with wrath. “What if she be here?” he thundered, smiting shut his Book of Craft. “She is my sister, and when she offends me I shall punish her as I choose. Learn the truth then. She lies hidden in the deepest part of my cavern, in a dungeon so dark that she can work none of her grey magic therein; in a dungeon so remote that none of her servants can ever penetrate to it; a dungeon whose walls are so tightly sealed, so cleverly enchanted, that she will try in vain to make her escape. There she shall remain until I choose to set her free. I have told you. Go now, and let me see your face no more.”

At these words, so remorseless and cruel, a wailing cry broke from the lips of Creeping Shadow. Even a worse fate than she had feared had overtaken the beautiful Shadow Witch. She threw herself in anguish at the Wizard’s feet to plead with him for the release of her mistress, but he would not hear her.

“Go, as I bade you,” he commanded, spurning her from him with force. “Go, lest I summon my servants to bind you fast, and place you in a prison as drear and lonely as hers.”

Creeping Shadow saw that there was no hope, that nothing would move his hard heart to mercy. Moreover, his threat overwhelmed her with terror, for if she herself were imprisoned, there would be none to bring help to her mistress, since none but herself knew that she was in the Cave of Darkness.

She rose to her feet, and with bowed head passed from the Cave Hall without another word. Her heart was very heavy, for at first she could think of no one to whom she could turn for assistance. The Shadows, without their mistress, were powerless against the Wizard. All others in the land were not only as wicked as he, as she well knew, but every one of them, Curling Smoke, the Giant of the Seven Hills of Ash, the Dragon of the Gloomy Vale, and the Ash Goblin, would be instantly ready to join with him against his sister. From the Wind in the Chimney, also, nothing but ill usage could be expected.

The more she pondered, the deeper grew her despair, and every moment lost was precious. She wrung her hands in her distress.

Then, suddenly she remembered one who was not evil—one who would surely befriend the Shadow Witch. It was the Elf—the good Elf, who dwells in the Borderland that stretches beyond the Plain of Ash and away toward the Kingdom of Earth. Very old and wise is the Elf. He knows the ways of the Evil Fairies who dwell in the countries that lie away from the heart of the Fire; knows much of their dark magic and mischievous enchantments. He knows something, also, of the good Fire Fairies and their bright spells. Safe in his home amid the ash of the Borderland, he sees the Wind in the Chimney swoop down upon the Borderland and even out across the broad Hearthstone in his boldness, but he knows no fear of him. He sees the giant, Curling Smoke, rise stealthily from his lurking places, sees him grow vaster, and vaster, until, when he chooses he darkens all the sky, but of him, also, he is unafraid. The Ash Goblin creeps forth from his low dwelling, prying into the affairs of others and seeking what mischief he may do, but the Elf goes his way undisturbed, knowing himself secure against him.

No one who comes to the Elf of the Borderland for help in any good deed comes in vain. Thinking of this, hope rose in the breast of Creeping Shadow. Sure that he would not fail her, she determined to appeal to him at once.

Like an arrow she sped out of the Cave and swept down the cliff-side and across the Plain in noiseless haste. The Ash Goblin met her, and would have detained her to ask her business, but she escaped him without reply. In trembling fear of the Wind, who might swoop down upon her, she approached the Chimney Mouth, but she had the good fortune to pass by it in safety.

She had entered the Borderland and was not far from the Elf’s door, when suddenly she encountered him. He was sitting quietly upon a mound of ash, a curious little figure, with eyes that twinkled with a kindly light under thick fuzzy brows. His fuzzy ears stood out from beneath a peaked cap; his pudgy hands were almost hidden by the sleeves of the soft ashen garment that clothed him from head to foot.

He saw Creeping Shadow approaching and knowing at once from her face that she was in trouble, he guessed that she had come to ask his help. So he beckoned her to a seat beside him and listened to her story with the keenest attention, hearing her through to the last word without interrupting her.

“And now,” Creeping Shadow besought him, when she had told him all, “What can be done to deliver my dear mistress? There is none so wise and kind as yourself. Advise me, I beg of you.” With eyes fastened eagerly upon his face she awaited his answer.

“There is but one thing to do,” returned the Elf instantly. “You must obtain the assistance of some noble Prince—one who, by the power of his good magic, can overcome the Wizard, and set her free.”

“Alas!” sighed Creeping Shadow, “Where might such a prince be found? You know as well as I that all in this land are evil and use evil enchantments.”

“True,” he answered. “From this land no help can come for the Shadow Witch. But you must not forget the Land of Fire. In it there are many good and powerful fairies, and among them is Prince Radiance. You must go to him and tell him of this desperate plight of your mistress. He will not refuse to come to her relief.”

Creeping Shadow shook her head slowly. “I cannot believe that he will do so,” she asserted, “for not long since my mistress caused him great distress and disappointment by leading him astray.”“Ay, that she did,” agreed her companion. “But she made amends for it immediately afterward by rendering him a noble service. He himself told me of it with gratitude. I am certain that he has not forgotten it and will be glad to repay his great debt.”

So confidently did the Elf speak that Creeping Shadow took heart once more. She rose quickly from her seat. “If you will but tell me where to find him, I will go and appeal to him at once,” she declared.

“You must seek him in King Red Flame’s dominions, in the Palace of Burning Coals,” the Elf instructed her. “There he dwells with his bride, the lovely Princess White Flame, whom he delivered from the enchantment of the wicked Earth Fairy. Whether or no he is able to come himself to the rescue of your mistress, remains to be discovered, but this much is certain: he will see to it that she is not left a prisoner in the hands of her brother the Wizard. And now, come. I will conduct you to the boundaries of the Land of Fire. Once you enter its dominions you will find many friends, for its fairies are kind and gentle and will do everything in their power to guide you in safety to your journey’s end.”

Cheered and consoled by his words, Creeping Shadow set out in his company, and when at length she thanked the good Elf and bade him farewell on the borders of the Land of Fire, she was able to go forward alone with hope and confidence.