“How can we break the Guardian’s spell?” Jon asked Dorsit.
“I’m not certain,” Dorsit replied. “But—”
“Terrific,” Fred interrupted. “So we’re stuck.” He waved to get Lialia’s attention. “Look, honey, what’ll it take to get the door open? Money? Jewelry? I’m sure JonBoy here will be happy to conjure you up a Porsche if you want.”
Lialia examined her manicure, bored.
“A poem may be the key,” Dorsit said. “It’s called Fair Lady of the Waterfall, and I think it must refer to Lialia.”
“Oh, no,” Fred moaned. “If you start with the poetry I’m gonna throw myself down that hole, guaranteed.”
“Hush,” Brett said as she smacked Fred on the arm. “How does it go, Dorsit?”
Dorsit recited the poem:
Was stole away by Blackest Knight,
Her heart this Knave he did Enthrall,
Forever Cloistered far from Light.”
“The Rosebud may return to Flower,
Young Champion of Fire and Claw,
With Truest Love and Hell-born Power,
From Driest Rock her Essence Draw.”
As Dorsit finished speaking, Lialia burst into tears.
“Okay,” Fred groaned. “I’m jumping into the pit now.”
(Excerpt, The Last Great Wizard of Yden)
~ S.G. Rogers