When the Wizard parted from his sister, he believed that she was hopelessly in his power, but as he proceeded on his way, he began to recall to himself how defiantly she had borne herself at the last, and with what confidence she had spoken. He remembered, too, how often she had baffled and eluded him before he had imprisoned her, and he knew that it was not entirely impossible that she might do so again. Could she but release herself from the deep darkness that surrounded her, all her own magic would return to her, and then, in spite of all his guards, she might be able by means of one of her clever tricks, to make her way to liberty.

Thinking of these things, he reached a bend in the corridor where two ways met. The one went directly on to the Cave Hall, but the other led away into that remote and dangerous part of the cavern where lay the Pit of Fumes. Thither he was wont to go to practice his most secret arts. No Imps ever dared to tread that way, for it was well known that none but himself could pass over it in safety.

He paused, for he suddenly bethought himself of how easily he could, by a stroke of enchantment, close with a wall the way to the Cave Hall and leave only that one open which led to the Pit of Fumes. Then if by some strange means his sister should contrive to escape from her dungeon, she would unsuspectingly go on to the Pit of Fumes. This she would be unable to pass, and would, therefore, be forced to return to the prison that she had left.

The Wizard laughed aloud, for the thought pleased him well. He determined to prepare this trap for her at once. Abruptly he bade the Imps to rest their lanterns. They did so and stood motionless with eyes fixed on their master. The Wizard bent on them his sternest gaze. “Let none dare to look upon that which I am about to do,” he commanded.

Immediately his slaves fell upon their knees, and with eyes fast shut and heads bowed to the dust, meekly awaited his pleasure. It was as if they held their very breath, so deep was the silence of the Cave.

From beneath his cloak the Wizard drew his jet black wand. He waved it toward the walls and repeated, in a voice so low that none but himself could hear them, strange words of enchantment. Under their spell, the Cave walls began to draw slowly together, and before long they stood firmly closed across the way by whence he had come.

Replacing his wand, the Wizard turned to where his servants still knelt with guarded eyes. “Arise, and go forward,” he commanded them.

With one accord they sprang to their feet, and without one glance behind to discover what their master had done, they went rapidly ahead of him.

While the Wizard departed in content, Prince Ember made ready to open the dungeon of the Shadow Witch so that she might go free. With her at his side he stood before the thick wall that barred the way to the corridor. He laid his hand upon his fairy sword, and unsheathed it. It glowed and burned with living fire.

With its bright point he touched the wall in that selfsame place where the Wizard was wont to pass through, and on its blackness he traced the scarlet outline of a door.

Breathlessly the Shadow Witch followed with her eyes the moving point of fire, followed it till the outline was complete, and the sword fell back into its sheath. Without a word, but with swiftly beating heart, she waited in her place by Prince Ember’s side to see what wondrous thing that sword could do.

Wondrous indeed, for silently and of itself the door swung open, and the corridor that led to freedom was before her.

Prince Ember took her hand, and together they crossed the threshold, but when they had passed it he paused, and spoke one charmed word. As silently as it had opened, the door closed behind them at its creator’s command, and its outlines vanished, leaving the wall the grim unbroken barrier that it had been before.

“Ah, my good Prince!” whispered the Shadow Witch looking upon it. “What magic is yours!”

He spoke no word in answer, but raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Then they began their journey along the windings of the corridor, that stretched away and away into a gloom that seemed to have no end. Yet the place where they trod was bright about them, made so by the ruddy glow which streamed from the figure of Prince Ember. In the warmth and cheer of it the Shadow Witch glided happily, and as they left her prison farther and farther behind, she became more and more her former self, and again felt stirring to life within her that old-time power of magic of which she had been so long deprived.

They came at length to the wall which the Wizard had set to mislead his sister. Seeing nothing to arouse their suspicions, they went straight on. After traveling for some distance, however, Prince Ember all at once became aware that it was not the way over which he had gone with the Wizard and his servants. He stopped, and began to look sharply about him. On every hand it was unfamiliar to him.

The Shadow Witch saw that he was troubled, but she could not guess the reason. “What is it?” she asked anxiously.

“When we left the prison,” he answered, “we took the way by which I had come to you. There was no other. But now it is not the same.”

“There has been no place where we could have turned aside,” she assured him. “Nowhere has there appeared any other way open to us.”

“And yet we have gone astray,” the Prince insisted. “There can be no doubt of it. All that I see now, I have never seen before.”

“You are sure of it?” asked his companion.

“I am sure of it.”

The eyes of the Shadow Witch flashed with sudden understanding. “It is the enchantment of my brother,” she declared. “Lest, perhaps, I should escape him, he has closed the true way, and left this open as a trap for me. Be sure that it leads not to the Cave Hall, except through dangers into which he believes that I will not dare to venture.”

“Be these dangers what they may,” replied Prince Ember, “I will, by my good magic, overcome them all. And now, since there is no way but this, let us go upon it without tarrying.”

“Indeed, we cannot choose but take it,” agreed the Shadow Witch.

They resumed their journey, therefore, and now, though the way behind them had been gloomy, that which stretched before them grew more and more so; yet the darker it became about them, the brighter was the glow that streamed from Prince Ember, and the more surely was the Shadow Witch sustained and cheered thereby.

After a while, they saw that they were approaching an open space, which was wrapped in thick darkness. Beyond it their eyes could not penetrate, but in its midst they beheld shapes like wreaths of vapor arising from below.

The Shadow Witch turned pale, and caught Prince Ember by the arm to draw him back. “Go no farther!” she cried in warning. “Go no farther, I beg of you! Yonder is certain destruction for us both! It is the Pit of Fumes! Those dread and yellow mists carry poison in their breath!”

“Though that be so, yet I must conquer them, for behind us lies your prison,” the Prince replied to her. “To it we must not return.”

“Never shall you risk such danger for my sake,” the Shadow Witch answered firmly. “Better an endless prison for me than such dreadful peril for you. I speak of what I know—none but my brother has ever dared to enter yonder place. You shall not go.”

“And when this place is passed,” demanded the Prince, “what lies beyond?”

“What matters it what lies beyond, when destruction lies between?” she murmured sadly. “Were the way ever so open when the Pit is passed, it is closed to us who stand upon this side.”

“What lies beyond?” demanded he again. “Answer me truly, for I must know.”

Then the Shadow Witch knew that she must tell him. She covered her face with her hands, and her tears fell fast. For a moment she could not speak.

Prince Ember dried her tears with a tender hand. “What lies beyond?” he insisted gently.

The Shadow Witch clung to him desperately. “The way to the Cave Hall,” she admitted. “But, oh, I cannot let you venture where the Pit lies. No, no! Many times have I heard my brother boast to his neighbors that none but himself can draw nigh to it.”

“Listen, dear Shadow Witch,” said the Prince consolingly, “yonder is a place of terror, in very truth, yet we shall pass it safely, in spite of that. There is good magic which can put to naught even this evil Pit of your brother’s. Look—I will show you.”

He thrust his hand into his breast, and took out a small round box which was hidden there. “This is the gift of him who is oldest and wisest in all the Kingdom of the Fire,” he told her. “When he gave it, he assured me that when the dangers of the way were greatest, when the way itself seemed closed beyond all hope, that this which my box contains will conquer the danger and make the road to safety plain.”

Opening the box he took out the piece of charcoal that lay within.

“Stay you here,” he bade her, “until I have prepared the way.”

But she was not willing that he should go without her. “Whatever comes, we meet it side by side,” she declared.

Nothing that he could say would persuade her to do otherwise, and so at last he consented, but as they drew nearer to the Pit, the noisome odor of its fumes swept toward her and overcame her. Her face grew pale, and she began to sink to the ground.

The Prince knew, that in spite of her courage, she could endure no more. He led her back a little way, and forced her gently to rest upon a jutting of the wall. There he left her, weak and trembling, to await his return.

Stronger arose the breath of the Pit, and yet more deadly grew its fumes as the Prince drew near it, but he was undismayed. Straight toward the yellow mists he went, and in his hand was the gift of the Wise One. Presently, he reached that point where he himself dared go no farther. The choking vapors floated round him, but the Pit itself, yawning wide and terrible, was still some distance from where he stood. Now he must trust to the strength of his arm, to the sureness of his aim. He drew himself to his full height; he threw back his arm, and hurled the magic charcoal straight to its mark. “Descend into this Pit!” he cried, as it left his hand. “Descend, and make this evil place to exhale no more!”

Like an arrow it sped. Into the very heart of the Pit it fell, and then were the Wise One’s words fulfilled. Like surly slaves, obeying unwillingly, the yellow mists sank back into the Pit, lower and lower, till they were seen no more, and with them went their noisome breath, leaving the air pure and clean. As they vanished, the way which led out of this hollow chamber to the corridor beyond lay plainly visible along the very edge of the Pit.

Prince Ember was about to go and fetch the Shadow Witch from where he had left her, but he had no need. She had felt her strength come flooding back to her when the mists departed, and immediately she rose and came to him.“Why should I ever fear, when you are with me?” she whispered to him. “How can I ever fail to trust your power to conquer and to save?”

Away from the now vanquished Pit of Fumes they hurried, along a corridor as dusky and deserted as the first had been. Before they had gone far upon it, they heard the low murmuring of voices, and soon they found themselves at the entrance to a low and vaulted chamber, dark like all the rest, but set about with dim lanterns and peopled with many Imps, busy at strange tasks.

Some stood before dingy looms, weaving huge curtains of soot, to replace those which covered the walls in the Cave Hall, when they should become worn, and drop to pieces. Others sat upon blocks of charcoal and braided ropes of darkness to bind those who disobeyed the Wizard’s will and though they knew that they themselves might at any time be bound by them, they durst not make them less strong than their master ordained that they should be.

Over them stood the Chief Imp, whose business it was to see that none failed in his duty, or gossiped unduly with his neighbors, and so deeply engaged in their several tasks were one and all, that none heard the sound of approaching footsteps, none knew that any but themselves were near, till quite by accident the Chief Imp raised his head and saw within the doorway of the chamber the ruddy form of Prince Ember standing, and by his side the grey Shadow Witch, whom all had believed to be closely guarded by the walls of her distant prison.

Before the Chief Imp could give a command, before any other could cry out, or attempt evil, the Prince had drawn forth a wand from beneath his mantle and raised it. Clear and strong his voice fell on their ears, saying, “Stir not from your places, nor speak, until the hour when the feet of the Shadow Witch stand once more within the safe borders of her own land.”

Under Prince Ember’s spell each servant of the Wizard became fixed in his place, unable to move or to utter a syllable. With staring eyes they beheld the Prince and his companion advance, and pass through their very midst, whilst they remained powerless to so much as stretch out a hand to clutch at their garments.

In their rebellious ears the words of his enchantment were still ringing as he departed with the Shadow Witch from their sight.