Filigol bowed himself out, and the wizards turned to each other in amazement.

“He’s an interesting one, isn’t he?” said Hermione.

“He’s round the twist,” said Ron. “This whole place is. It’s amazing.”

“Ginny,” said Harry, “do you know anything about this King? Is he likely to really be helpful to us?”

“Maybe,” said Ginny. “There’s a whole book about him — Rinkitink in Oz. He’s just like the book describes, except the book has him riding a little goat instead of a donkey. Although, come to think of it, the goat gets turned into a prince at the end of the book, so maybe the king just found a substitute?… Anyway, he is very kind-hearted, but also silly. I don’t know how powerful he is, though, magically speaking. I mean, if our goal is to get to the Land of Oz, I don’t know how much help he can be. Oz is really hard to get to, because of the Deadly Desert. Even most powerful fairies can’t get across it.”

“So he’s never been to Oz?” asked Harry.

“Oh, I think he did go,” said Ginny. “I don’t exactly remember the end of the book, but I think Dorothy comes and saves them from the Nome King or something? And then maybe she transports them to Oz using her magic belt? I don’t remember.”

“But if he’s friends with Oz people, maybe he can get a message to them,” said Hermione. “Ask them directly to speak with us.”

“But how much can we trust him?” asked Harry. “How much can we tell him? If we just say, hey, Ozma is stealing our magic, we want to go have a talk with her, can you help us… what would he say?”

“I don’t know,” said Ginny.

Ungitink shook his head sadly. “Ungitink should not have told you,” he muttered. “Secret, all of this should be secret. Do not tell the King! If Ozma wanted him to know, she would have told him herself!”

“Well, I’m sorry, Ungitink,” said Hermione. “If Ozma didn’t want us telling her secrets, maybe she shouldn’t have stolen our magic. — I think we should tell him. From what we’ve seen so far, he might be kind of wacky, but he seems like he might at least be able to advise us or point us in the right direction.”

The brunch was excellent. As a seaside kingdom, Rinkitink’s cuisine naturally tended towards fish, oysters, crabs, and other kinds of seafood; but it was also a fairy kingdom, and the Nonestic Ocean’s waters were not of the normal sort. The wizards had never eaten anything like it. The crabs had golden carapaces, the oyster shells gleamed with luminous pearl that seemed as if moonlight had been caught in glass, and there were so many different colors and sizes of glittering fish that it seemed like the platters had been covered with jewels. At first Hagrid refused to eat, saying it was all just too beautiful, but before long hunger overcame him and in due course they had to bring out an additional platter for him.

The King arrived slightly late to the meal, explaining that he was unavoidably delayed trying to decide on an appropriate outfit for the occasion, having never brunched with so many mortals before; but he’d ended up picking the same outfit as always, since he was most comfortable with it.

For a short while they talked about the food and the kingdom of Rinkitink, and the king’s favorite dishes and favorite stretches of beach to walk along. “Of course,” he said, “I don’t actually walk; I ride my good albino donkey Rodbag. Rodbag is an excellent donkey, although not of course a real replacement for the goat I used to have, Bilbil. But he got turned into a prince — that is to say, he was always a prince, he had just been turned into a goat for a while — and that’s clearly all to the good, so I mustn’t grumble.”

“Your majesty,” said Neville, “you mentioned before that you wished to know if there were anything you could do to assist us. I wonder if we could tell you our errand?”

“Yes, please!” said the King. “I adore stories, my dear man.”

So they told him about how so many wizards were being struck squib — and this took some time, because the King had never heard of squibs, or England for that matter, and knew very little of wizards, so there was quite a bit of ground to cover. House elves and Time Turners were a bit easier to explain, although there were aspects that puzzled the King greatly.

“So house elves serve you all, doing domestic chores?” said the King. “They serve your families?”

“Most of the wealthier families, your majesty,” said Hermione.

“But why?” said the King. “Elves are very powerful beings. And, I do not mean to be rude, but it does not seem that wizards are very powerful. Once we took your wands, you had practically no magic at all. Why do they serve you? How did you enslave them?”

“Well, they just sort of, like to be servants,” said Neville. “It’s hard to explain.”

“And if you give them a piece of clothing, they are set free? — But they don’t want to be free? So they avoid trying to pick up clothing?”

“That’s right,” said Hermione, who remembered all too well the year she had tried to free all the house elves in Hogwarts. “Except for some of them, like one of our friends, Dobby.”

“Can you explain this?” asked the King, turning to Ungitink, Kreacher, and the other elves at the table.

“It is our way, your majesty,” said Ungitink. “For those of our families who are selected to serve the wizards, it is their way of life. It is a life of service and honor and they are proud to do it. It is shameful to accept freedom or be cast out of service.”

“But you do not serve a wizard family, Ungitink,” said the King.

“No, your majesty,” said Ungitink. “Ungitink is an elf, but not a house elf. Ungitink’s family was not selected.”

“But if a wizard family came to you,” mused the King, “and said, why, won’t you please come do our washing up, you would agree?”

Ungitink actually stood up on his chair and bowed. “Of course. It would be an honor.”

The King shook his head. “I confess it is beyond my understanding. But Ungitink, my dear fellow, what is all this about stealing magic, and wizards being struck skip or whatever it was? You have to admit this is no good at all, what Ozma is doing. Surely you see that.”

“The Queen is dying, your majesty,” said Ungitink softly.

The King shook his head. “I have never been very good at solving problems cleverly,” he said. “I do know right from wrong, however. It is wrong that the Queen should die, but it is also wrong that magic be stolen away, and wrong that these Hourwicks be destroyed. They sound like wonderful treasures. If you, my friends, can travel to Oz and find a solution that will save the Queen and save your magic and yourselves, that would be wonderful. And I think — yes, I am quite sure — that I have something that can help you get to Oz.”

He gestured to Filigol. “If you would be so kind,” he said, “please bring me the little present that Prince Inga gave me.”

“Which one, your majesty?” asked Filigol.

“All of them,” said the King.

“All of them?!” cried Filigol.

“Of course!” said the King. “I certainly have no need of them here. I’ve barely looked at them in the half century I’ve had them. Someone should be making use of them. Be quick, now!”

Filigol bowed out, and the King busied himself with the roast crab while he was gone. Harry and the others looked at each other and shrugged.

A few minutes later Filigol reappeared with a small golden box, and handed it to the King. The King smiled broadly and dusted it off fondly.

“Ah, here they are!” he cried. “So many wonderful memories in this box. You see, they were given to me by Prince Inga in memory of the wonderful adventures we had together. I helped him regain his kingdom, so he was naturally very grateful.” The King handed the box to Ginny, who happened to be sitting next to him. “Go on, my dear,” he said. “Open it!”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open as she did so, and she carefully reached in and pulled out a tiny blue pearl. “The three pearls!” she whispered. One by one she drew out two more: one pink, and the other white.

“Oh, you’ve heard of them?” cried the King, immensely pleased. He clapped his hands together in delight. “That’s wonderful! Where did you hear of them?”

“It was in a book I read when I was a child,” said Ginny. “There was a muggle — a mortal author, who wrote a book called Rinkitink in Oz, and —“

“Why, that’s me!” cried the King.

“Yes, your majesty,” said Ginny. “It was all about your adventures with Bilbil and Prince Inga, and the three pearls. It was one of my favorite books.”

“Goodness heavens!” cried the King. “Who could this mortal author have been? I have only met a few mortals in all my life, and none of them were authors.”

“I can only imagine he heard the story from someone else, your majesty,” said Ginny.

“That’s a most sensible suggestion,” said the King. “I do tell the story of my adventures to anyone who will listen.”

“That is certainly true, your majesty,” said Filigol.

“And you should know that more than anyone, shouldn’t you?” said the King, laughing. “I’ve told them all to you at least once a week since then!” For some reason this struck the King as ridiculously funny, and he went on laughing for at least a full minute, until he had to wipe tears from his eyes. “Oh my goodness!” he said. “It’s been too long since I laughed like that. In any case, let me explain these pearls to you. You may already know all about them, my dear,” he said to Ginny, “but since I am King, I am allowed to explain what I like.”

“Of course, your majesty,” said Ginny.

The King took the box gently from Ginny, and held up the blue pearl. “This pearl,” he said, “confers tremendous strength. The strength of a giant. Even if you’re just a small child, if you hold this pearl, or have it on your person, in your pocket or what have you, you can perform feats of great strength. Lift and throw boulders, burst through doors, rip trees from the ground, and so on. My friend Prince Inga once wrestled and threw a giant who had been sent to kill him by the Nome King.”

“Whoa,” breathed Ron.

The King held up the pink pearl. “This pearl,” he said, “protects you from all harm. Whether it’s fire, water, or cold steel, it doesn’t matter, this pearl will keep you completely safe. The Nome King once tried to kill me by filling the room with magical rotating knives, but I was utterly unharmed.”

“Wow,” said Harry.

The King held up the last pearl, the white pearl. “And this pearl,” he said, “confers the greatest gift of all: wise counsel. You have but to hold it to your ear, and it will advise you on what to do. It once said, ‘Never question the truth of what you fail to understand, for the world is filled with wonders.’ And through its wise advice Prince Inga was able devise a trick to escape from a deadly cavern of lava in which the Nome King had trapped him.”

“Oh wow,” said Hermione. “Does it have advice for us now?”

“Let us see!” said the King. He held the white pearl up to his ear. He blinked, and his eyebrows went up. “My goodness!” he said, and put the pearl back in the box, and handed the box back to Ginny. “My friends,” he said, “the pearl advises you to start at once. The situation has become quite grave. You must travel to the realm of the Nome King, and from there to the Land of Oz, as quickly as possible.”

“Why?” asked Hermione. “What did the pearl say?”

“Exactly what I just told you,” said the King. “So you should get started. Filigol!” he cried.

“Yes, your majesty?” asked Filigol.

“Please have this breakfast packed up for our friends and give them some additional traveling provisions. And then lend them some horses to carry them to the Land of Ev.”

“There’s no need of that, your majesty,” said Ginny. “None of us can really ride horses, anyway. We ride broomsticks.”

“Broomsticks?!” cried the King. “Then you are witches? No, never mind, there is no time! You must start at once. Filigol, see to it please. And make sure they know the way, also — how embarrassing that would be, if you got lost! Oh my friends, it has been so wonderful to have you. I apologize again for our unfortunate confusion when you first arrived. I wish you the best of luck in your journey, and every happiness thereafter.”