Ninety percent of most magic merely consists of knowing one extra fact. -- Terry Pratchett, Night Watch

"Under arrest?"

With those two words, the bottom seemed to have dropped out of Hjalmar's world. He staggered and fell against the door-frame. He reviewed every action he had taken since arriving in Therlund. What laws had he broken?

"Why?" His voice seemed to come from somewhere far away.

"On suspicion of kidnapping the Princess Rigmor."

Oh. Oh no. He had known this would happen! He had warned Rigmor, and she had insisted it wouldn't!

"And I have here an arrest warrant for the woman known only as Solvej, no surname listed, on suspicion of being your accomplice," the policeman continued. "I understand she lives next door to you."

~~~~

"Well, this is a fine kettle of fish you've pickled me in!"

"Stop whining," Solvej said from where she was sitting on the bed in the cell next to Hjalmar's with her head in her hands. "How was I to know this would happen?"

Hjalmar glared at her through the bars that divided their cells. "You should have at least guessed the king and queen would be looking for their daughter."

"I did guess that. I didn't expect there to be an arrest warrant out for anyone who happened to be near her!"

The two of them relapsed into a sullen silence.

~~~~

Berit Høyer took her duties as the King's Spymaster very seriously. She had been shocked when Princess Rigmor disappeared, humiliated and irate as the weeks went by with nary a sign of the princess, and delighted when one of her spies finally brought a report of a confirmed sighting. A confirmed sighting in Therlund, no less. The princess had been right under their noses the entire time!

The princess, it turned out, was in the company of two suspicious characters who appeared to be teaching her something. Berit had immediately contacted the chief of police and ordered him to issue an arrest warrant.

With the two suspicious characters safely out of the way and awaiting questioning, Berit now had to make Princess Rigmor see reason.

This was easier said than done.

Berit decided to personally apprehend the Princess. It would be less alarming for her, she thought, if she saw someone she knew from the palace instead of a random police officer. Rigmor would be happy to come home, she was sure. Now that she had experienced life outside the palace, she would be eager to return home to safety.

When she forced open the door of the Princess's lodging and was greeted with a dish thrown at her head, she realised she may have miscalculated somewhere.

"You won't take me, monster!" Rigmor screamed, advancing on her with a poker in hand.

The Princess abruptly stopped when she realised that the intruder was not a monster of either the human or supernatural varieties, but instead a decidedly taken aback Spymaster. If Berit had been in less danger of having her brains beaten out, she would have thought the dumbfounded look on the Princess's face was hilarious.

Princess Rigmor coughed awkwardly and set down the poker. "Oh. It's you. I'm sorry, I thought you were a goblin."

Berit straightened up and tried to gather her wits. "Your Highness, I have come to escort you back to the palace."

Princess Rigmor glared at her defiantly. "I won't go back! You can't make me!"

"I am sorry, your Highness, but you'll find I can make you. Please, for everyone's sake, come quietly. I would rather not drag you before your parents in chains, but I will if that is what it takes."

The Princess looked at her, then at the two burly policemen who stood behind her. "Where are my friends? What have you done with them?"

"Your friends?" Berit tried to think of who the Princess could possibly be referring to. She didn't mean those two suspicious characters who may have been holding her hostage, surely?

"Hjalmar and Solvej. Where are they?"

Oh dear. This was more serious than she'd thought. Those criminals must have wormed their way into the Princess's trust, if she was worried about them.

"You needn't worry about them now," she said in a placating tone. "I'll take you home to your parents, and we can forget all about this."

The Princess gave her a look so deadly it could have turned a person to ash on the spot. "Don't speak to me as if I were a child. You know where my friends are. Tell me!"

"They are in police custody," Berit admitted, "on suspicion of kidnapping you."

"I wasn't kidnapped! I ran away, as you would know if you had read my note, which I'm sure you have."

"Someone of your station--" Berit began.

"Someone of my station," Princess Rigmor interrupted, "has a right to seek a cure if something is wrong with them, regardless of what Spymasters think. Release my friends this minute. As your Princess, I command it."

"First I must take you to your parents." This meeting wasn't going at all as Berit had expected. Her only hope now was to take the Princess to the King and Queen, and pray the shouting match that would inevitably ensure would hammer some sense into Rigmor's head.

The Princess narrowed her eyes. "In that case, take me to them immediately."

Her words might sound like a concession. Both of them knew it was anything but.

~~~~

Though she kept a calm mask in place, the last months had been harrowing for Queen Maibrit. To sit idly by as her daughter faced heaven only knew what dangers, to never know where Rigmor was or who she was with, to wake every morning from nightmares of the Magician finding Rigmor and to be unable to prove there was no truth in them -- Since her daughter's disappearance, those had been the things Maibrit lived with.

She knew her husband suffered through trials of his own during this time, and so she kept her own fears and dreads shut up within herself. In times of crisis, a Queen must keep her courage when everyone else panics; a Queen must be always dignified; a Queen must never add to anyone else's burdens. This was what Maibrit's mother had told her at her coronation, and she strove to live up to it every day.

All the composure in the world, however, couldn't stop her from running down to the courtyard when she heard the Princess had been found and was on her way home.

Rigmor's hair was unbound and unevenly cut. She wore a plain blouse and long skirt utterly unlike anything she'd ever worn before. She was much thinner than she had been, but the haunted, drawn look that she had worn almost all her life was faded until it was practically gone.

In spite of all the changes to her appearance, she was still Maibrit's daughter. Oblivious to everyone around them, the Queen ran down the steps and pulled her daughter into an embrace.

Rigmor stiffened briefly before returning her hug with a muffled sob.

King Severin puffed and panted his way down the stairs.

"Where have you been, you... you..." He stopped when he caught Maibrit's eye. After an uncomfortable silence, he continued gruffly, "Well, you're home now, and we'll say no more about it."

"I'm not here to stay."

With those words, Rigmor, without evening knowing it, killed the hope that had been kindled in her mother's heart. Maibrit had hoped they could forget about this unpleasant business and find a way to break the curse that did not involve Rigmor running off on her own. Deep down, Maibrit couldn't quite believe that the Magician really did intend to steal her daughter away. She wanted to believe this was all a misunderstanding that could be cleared up. But she couldn't hold onto that delusion when Rigmor was trying to break the curse on her own.

"I want you to release my friends," her daughter continued, "and then I will be leaving again."

"Friends?" Maibrit repeated. "What friends? Why do they need released?" She looked around, and it suddenly dawned on her that they were standing in the middle of the courtyard, in full view of the servants and the grooms, most of whom weren't even attempting to hide their curiosity. "You can tell us later. Come inside! You need a change of clothes and a good meal."

~~~~

Hjalmar had lost track of how many hours he and Solvej had been in prison. They had been here at least a day, he knew from how the day had turned to night and back to day again. Now evening was falling again, and no one had come near them except to bring them their meals. He was beginning to fear they would be left here for the rest of their lives. Well, the rest of his life, anyway.

To make matters worse, Solvej was pacing around her cell with her eyes closed, muttering to herself in a foreign language.

"Please tell me you aren't going mad," he said after about an hour of this.

She opened her eyes and gave him an affronted look. "Of course not! A person can't go mad if they're already mad. I'm trying to get us out of here!"

Hjalmar decided to ignore the fact she had more or less just admitted she was mad. "In case you haven't noticed, it doesn't seem to be working."

"That's because I haven't cast any spells yet."

"Then what are you mumbling about?"

"Mumbling?" Solvej glared at him as if the word was an unforgivable insult. "I am not mumbling. I am seeing if it's possible to cast any spells here. Sometimes police stations hire witches to place enchantments that make it impossible to cast spells, to ensure that if they ever arrest a witch he or she can't escape." She rested her hand against the wall and closed her eyes. "This doesn't seem to be one of them, but there are some types of enchantments that are specifically designed to be undetectable until they activate when a spell is cast."

Hjalmar sighed and left her to it. He couldn't see how wandering around talking to themselves was going to get them out of here, but then, he wasn't a witch.

"Ah-hah!" Solvej exclaimed suddenly.

He looked over at her and nearly had a heart attack. Her hand was on fire! He looked around frantically for something, anything, that could put the fire out. His gaze landed on the bottle of water a policeman had brought him with his meal.

"It works!" Solvej crowed, looking far too cheerful for someone who had just caught fire. Her triumph ended with a startled yell as Hjalmar threw half the bottle over her. He was horrified to see the water had no effect on the flames. "Hey! What did you do that for?"

"What did I-- You're on fire!" Really, was it too much to expect a little gratitude?

"It's only an illusion." Oh. Well, how was he to know that? "I cast a spell to see if I could, and this proves that there are no enchantments on this police station."

Now that the shock of seeing her apparently on fire had worn off, Hjalmar looked with interest at the flames still playing over Solvej's hand. They looked exactly like real flames, but they gave neither smoke or light, and from Solvej's lack of reaction they gave no heat either.

She waved her hand and the flames disappeared. "Now, let's get out of here."

She gave the cell door an almost frighteningly intense look. Nothing happened for several minutes. Then there was a click, and the door sprang open. She did the same with Hjalmar's door.

"Thank you," Hjalmar said. "How are we going to get out of here without someone noticing? And where do we go? We'll have to get far away from Therlund, and--"

"Far away from Therlund?" Solvej repeated incredulously, as if he had suggested taking a trip to the moon. "But we have to stay here, or we won't be able to break the curse! And besides, if we run away you at least will be a wanted criminal for the rest of your life. No, we will stay in the city for the time being."

"But where will we go?" Hjalmar demanded. "Our lodgings will be the first place they'll look for us."

"That's why we're not going there. We're going to the palace."