Note: This story was written by three people, so if it doesn't flow that well-Sorry!!
Disclaimer: We sadly don't own any of these characters; they are the great Tamora Pierce's.
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Numair stood on the battlements of the castle. His hand absently traced patterns on the grey stone. He peered down at the bustling city of Tortall below him, then he looked up at the darkening skyline.
"Strange, very strange," he muttered to himself. He noticed, despite his scatterbrainess, that an orange fog was going to set in that night. He did a double take and gripped the stone in a death crushing grip. "Orange!' he exclaimed…
The sound of stone crashing into the ground jerked him back to reality. He sighed as he looked at the ruined wall, and cast a restorative spell before stalking back into the palace and rushing back to his rooms "Daine!" he yelled, "We have a problem."
Daine sat up lazily and looked at him. "What is it this time?" she asked. "A miscast spell or lack of hair gel?"
"No, this is serious," he said, "We have an orange fog."
Seconds later, the lanky black mage was racing down the palace corridors. He turned into a wing and burst though a small wooden door.
Keladry of Mindelan jumped in surprise as she sprung from her stance. She had been practicing with her glaive, which hung absently by her waist.
"Get Alanna. I'll tell the King. It's an emergency."
"Daine?" He shook his head, "Alright, I'll get my things." She hastily tossed the slender pole arm to Numair who fumbled and almost dropped the weapon. He held it awkwardly in his hands.
After the panic had subsided, Numair stood in the thrown room opposite the King and Queen. Next to him stood Daine, and the other important people of the castle. Daine was frantic, she wasn't sure if the orange fog was effecting the animals or not.
"Please, can I go!" she pleaded with Jonathan.
"Fine, but be back soon in case we need you here!" he replied.
Daine gave Numair a quick goodbye glance, and tore out of the room to help her friends
Meanwhile, the rest of the group had a more pressing problem.
"Orange, orange, orange," said Queen Thayet, "I don't think I know anyone with orange magic."
"I do" said the King, glancing at Alanna, "or at least I did."
"Roger of Conté had orange magic," said Alanna, "but, believe me, he's dead, he can't come back to life twice."
Suddenly Numair had a brilliant idea.
"Maybe the magic isn't really orange…"
Without another word, Alanna bolted out of the room. A second later she burst back in.
"Green," she panted "the magic is dark green."
"What's this mean?" asked Kel.
"It means," said Numair, "That we have a powerful mage on our hands, a powerful mage who wants us to believe that Roger of Conté is alive.
Disclaimer: We sadly don't own any of these characters; they are the great Tamora Pierce's.
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Numair stood on the battlements of the castle. His hand absently traced patterns on the grey stone. He peered down at the bustling city of Tortall below him, then he looked up at the darkening skyline.
"Strange, very strange," he muttered to himself. He noticed, despite his scatterbrainess, that an orange fog was going to set in that night. He did a double take and gripped the stone in a death crushing grip. "Orange!' he exclaimed…
The sound of stone crashing into the ground jerked him back to reality. He sighed as he looked at the ruined wall, and cast a restorative spell before stalking back into the palace and rushing back to his rooms "Daine!" he yelled, "We have a problem."
Daine sat up lazily and looked at him. "What is it this time?" she asked. "A miscast spell or lack of hair gel?"
"No, this is serious," he said, "We have an orange fog."
Seconds later, the lanky black mage was racing down the palace corridors. He turned into a wing and burst though a small wooden door.
Keladry of Mindelan jumped in surprise as she sprung from her stance. She had been practicing with her glaive, which hung absently by her waist.
"Get Alanna. I'll tell the King. It's an emergency."
"Daine?" He shook his head, "Alright, I'll get my things." She hastily tossed the slender pole arm to Numair who fumbled and almost dropped the weapon. He held it awkwardly in his hands.
After the panic had subsided, Numair stood in the thrown room opposite the King and Queen. Next to him stood Daine, and the other important people of the castle. Daine was frantic, she wasn't sure if the orange fog was effecting the animals or not.
"Please, can I go!" she pleaded with Jonathan.
"Fine, but be back soon in case we need you here!" he replied.
Daine gave Numair a quick goodbye glance, and tore out of the room to help her friends
Meanwhile, the rest of the group had a more pressing problem.
"Orange, orange, orange," said Queen Thayet, "I don't think I know anyone with orange magic."
"I do" said the King, glancing at Alanna, "or at least I did."
"Roger of Conté had orange magic," said Alanna, "but, believe me, he's dead, he can't come back to life twice."
Suddenly Numair had a brilliant idea.
"Maybe the magic isn't really orange…"
Without another word, Alanna bolted out of the room. A second later she burst back in.
"Green," she panted "the magic is dark green."
"What's this mean?" asked Kel.
"It means," said Numair, "That we have a powerful mage on our hands, a powerful mage who wants us to believe that Roger of Conté is alive.