Wet Magic
"But where is the Palace?" Mavis said, and they stopped, looking at each other.
"I'll show you, please," said a little voice behind them. They turned quickly to find a small, spruce, gentlemanly Mackerel at their heels. "I'm one of the Guides," it said. "I felt sure you'd need me. This way, sir, please," and it led the way across the gardens in and out of the clumps of trees and between the seaweed hedges till they came to the Palace. Rows and rows of soldiers surrounded it, all waiting impatiently for the word of command that should send them to meet the enemies of their country.
"Glory," said the gentlemanly Mackerel, as he passed the outposts.
"Or Death," replied the sentinel Sea Bream.
The Queen was in the courtyard, in which the children had received their ovation—so short a time ago, and yet how long it seemed. Then the courtyard had been a scene of the calm and charming gaiety of a nation at peace; now it was full of the ardent, intense inactivity of waiting warriors. The Queen in her gleaming coral armor met them as the password opened a way to her through the close-packed ranks of the soldiers. She took the stone and read it, and with true royal kindness she found time, even at such a moment, for a word of thanks to the messengers.
"See the Narwhals start," she added, "and then back to your posts with all speed. Tell your commanding officer that so far the Book People have made no sign, but the golden gate is strongly defended by the King's Own Cod, and—"
"I didn't know there was a King," said Francis.
The Queen looked stern, and the Mackerel guide jerked Francis's magic coattail warningly and whispered "Hush!"
"The King," said the Queen quietly, "is no more. He was lost at sea."
When the splendid steady column of Narwhals had marched
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