No reviews... hmmm... never mind! I've decided that I don't really about reviews, even though they'd help me make the story better. Apparently, only a few of you like this story, but it keeps me busy! Lol!

Dusk, two days later, at Barhedrin Hill;

A Runner Scout came stumbling into General Halrey's office, stopping just before the desk where the General sat, looking through supply and weapon lists.

"Good Lord, man!" Halrey exclaimed, standing up, "What in the name of Death happened to you?" Out of breath, the exhausted man tried to speak, but nothing more than a hoarse whisper came out. General Halrey quickly grabbed a pitcher of water off the desk and offered it to the Scout, who drank deeply. As he drank, Halrey pushed him down into a chair, but the Scout jumped up again.

"No!" he gasped, putting the pitcher back on the desk, "No time for rest… De-Dead on the hills… on their way to the wall…" General Halrey gulped.

"How many?" he asked; the Scout shook his head as if to clear it, "20… maybe more. They're led by a Free Magic something or other… It was making them chant…their-their…" The man stopped to take a deep breath, clearly upset, "It's sending them after the Abhorsen-in-Waiting and the Princess…"

General Halrey grabbed at the desk to stop himself falling. After a moment of wide-eyed horror, he composed himself, strode past the Runner and out of the room. Looking around to see if anyone else had heard the conversation, he saw the men in his charge staring at him. Halrey swallowed as he realised that everyone had been listening; one man stepped forward and spoke.

"Should I send Message birds to the Abhorsen and the Prince?" he asked; Halrey shook his head.

"The Abhorsen is busy with the dead at Nestowe again, and the Prince is busy repairing the broken stones on the far north side of the Red Lake," he replied, "No, send for a company of the Royal Guard from High Bridge; our force is not large enough to deal with the Dead on our own," The man bowed and turned to hurry away, "Wait!" the man stopped and looked at Halrey, "Do send a message to the Prince; he may be able to send more soldiers," The man nodded and strode away; Halrey turned to the rest of his men.

"Prepare your weapons; we will defend this post until the Dead are back where they belong," The men bowed and went about sharpening their swords and other objects. Halrey walked back inside the office to the Runner Scout.

"I want you to take a message to Crossing Point Scouts," he told the Runner, "Tell them a small group of the Dead may make it over the Wall. If they do, they are to leave them to cross until the Royal Guard arrive; we don't want more bodies to deal with," The Runner Scout closed his eyes to remember the message, before nodding his head and exiting the office. Halrey took a quick sip of brandy to clear his head and steady his nerves.

"I thought all this had ended 23 years ago," he murmured before taking up his own sword and beginning to sharpen its edges.

Same day, The Red Lake;

Prince Sameth raised the dagger again and cut his hand from the base of his little finger to the base of his thumb. Before any blood could fall to the ground, the Prince placed his hand on the Charter Stone before him and began speaking a spell. A spell older than the wall itself, and dangerous enough to destroy the spell caster. Sparkling yellow lights sprang up and began swirling around the Prince and the stone. The guards that circled the stone and Prince at least 10 metres away ignored the light, watching the surrounding countryside for any sign of danger. There was a loud cracking sound and the Charter Magic faded away into nothing. Prince Sameth carefully took his healed hand away from the newly repaired stone and sighed.

Suddenly, a guard shouted and pointed at the sky. Prince Sameth looked up to see a small black speck heading towards them. 6 of the guards raised bows with arrows ready, awaiting the signal.

"Shall we my Lord?" the Head Guard asked, turning to the Prince. Sameth shook his head; he had already checked the 'thing' with his magical senses, and it was definitely alive.

"It's not Dead," Sameth told the Guard, who then gestured for the others to lower their bows. They stood still until the 'thing' came close; Sameth sighed again when he saw that it was only a Message bird… then drew breath when he saw the piece of red ribbon attached to its leg; the sign for danger. He held out his arm for the Bird to land on.

"Message for Prince Sameth, message for Prince Sameth," the bird, a small falcon, squawked; Sameth gently smoothed down the bird's slightly ruffled feathers

"Yes, I'm Prince Sameth. What is it?" he told the bird; The bird cocked its head, as if making sure that this really was Sameth before giving its message.

"From General Halrey at Barhedrin Post. Dead on hills heading to the Wall. Heading after Princesses Silver and Iana. 10 Soldiers from High Bridge on their way, commanded by Sergeant Dalert. Crossing Point Scouts to leave Dead alone until Royal Guard arrive. Request additional troops for backup if possible," The bird stopped, its message finished. Sameth looked up at the guards, his face pale and drawn. The guards turned to look at each other, not knowing what to do. Sameth gulped and the guards looked at their Prince worriedly, afraid the news would damage him both physically and mentally, especially after the repairing of over 10 stones in a week.

"Highness…We," the Head Guard began, but Sameth stopped him with a wave of his hand. Giving the Message bird to him, Sameth spoke.

"Send a message to Lieutenant Ancel in Belisaere," He told the Head Guard, "I want 10 of the Royal Guard down at Barhedrin in three days to join with those from High Bridge. Send them on horses; have fresh ones ready at all of the posts for them. Make sure supplies are in stock at each post as well; food and water. Ask for the strongest Charter Mages; no-one else will do," Sameth started pacing back and forth in front of the Charter Stone, its warmth slowly calming his already fraying nerves. "Tell them it's urgent, a matter of life or death… Tell them that the fate of the Kingdom lies on their shoulders…"

5 days later, Wyverley College, Ancelstirre.

Silver POV

I emerged from the bathroom to find Iana just sitting on her bed, shivering. I picked up my shortie pyjamas and went to get changed, but noticed that Iana still hadn't moved, well, apart from shivering. I looked at her concernedly.

"What's the matter? It's nearly lights out, you'd better get changed," I warned her. She still didn't move, just stared into the distance. "Iana? Iana!" I called. She seemed to snap out of her trance and looked up at me, "What's the matter?" I asked again; she gave a shudder.

"Dead… Between here and the village… I can feel them… Can't you?" she asked in a whisper. I stood still for a moment and concentrated hard… Yes, there was something there… something dead…

"What shall we do…? Shall we go and see?" I asked.

"There are people there too… They may be in danger," Iana answered; I grinned. A few dead didn't scare me.

"Great! A mission! Let's go!" I exclaimed excitably; Iana didn't look so convinced. I strode over to the wardrobe and flung open the doors. Hidden at the back of it, behind all the clothes were our swords; Iana's was called Itio, meaning Slayer, and mine was Bereth, meaning Giver. I smiled as I saw them. Father had made them especially for us… They suited us so well, light and strong, and of course, deadly, especially to the dead.

Being Prefects at the school, this meant that I and Iana were allowed to have our own rooms, but we preferred to stick together. We were also allowed more home comforts, like an en-suite bathroom, a study and unlimited storage. This meant we were able to hide anything passed to us from our parents with out the teachers noticing, for example, our swords. I picked them up and passed Itio to Iana, causing her to smile slightly. I fastened Bereth's belt to my waist and made sure the sheath was in the perfect position. I looked up to see Iana doing the same. She then delved into a drawer and drew out her bells and my panpipes in their leather pouch. She passed the panpipes to me and I slung the pouch over my head and shoulder. I helped Iana fasten her bell bandoleer and we grinned at each other as we turned towards the window. We had escaped the college so many times this way, out of the window and down the wall, using the ivy that had become slightly overgrown. It was dangerous, with nothing but the ivy's stems that clung to the stone to rely on, but we both loved to do it. There was something in the way that we knew we were doing something forbidden that made us braver than usual…

Being the middle of autumn in Ancelstirre, we didn't need anything over the three-quarter sleeved shirts and dark jeans that both I and Iana wore… though Iana was still shivering, albeit less than before now that she was doing something. As my feet touched the ground, I looked around the grounds for anyone that may have heard or spotted our unorthodox escape from our room. Iana was doing the same, looking at the windows. Our rooms were at the front of the school on the third floor; we had asked for them. It meant we'd be the first people to see anything that came to the school. Grandma Sabriel and Granddad Touchstone had suggested it; they said it was for our own safety to be able to see what was coming and prepare for it. Not finding anyone, I led the way into the shadows. We ran silently under the rows of trees towards the gate, muscles tensed for any sign of company. We reached the double gates - Iana checking around again, before giving me a boost up to the first horizontal bar, which was 4 feet above the ground. I hung on and held my hand down for her to pull herself up. We clambered nimbly over the spikes at the top of the gate meant to prevent this sort of behaviour, dropped silently to the ground and ran into the tree shadows again. Since Iana had the stronger Death sense, she led the way, stopping every now and then to listen.

 

Soon, we were at Docky Point almost half a mile from Wyverley Village. I shuddered; I could smell the Free Magic wafting from under the stones that made the cairn that stood atop the hill. But that wasn't the only reason I was shuddering. My Great Uncle's body had been buried under there, the human body of Rogir, while the Greater Dead version of Kerrigor roamed freely over the Old Kingdom, eventually coming to the College. It was he that had caused the white monolith on the school garden to be built. It was he that had tried to kill Iana's Aunt and Uncle… My Grandmother and Grandfather…

"Silver?" Iana shook me by the shoulders, "Silver! We're here!" I realised I had drifted into a daydream, remembering the stories I had been told. I shook my head to rid myself of the pictures my imagination was conjuring up. I looked at Iana; her eyes were full of cold, hard determination; her black hair, pulled back in a horse tail, made her look even more formidable. Wondering what had made her look like that; I followed her to the edge of Docky Point and looked over. I realised that we were witnesses to a battle…

At least 30 Dead Hands were fighting with humans, around 20 in number, and winning. I gasped when I saw the humans, for they were wearing the Red and Gold uniform of the Royal Guard; my Father's Soldiers… I glanced at Iana, to see her studying the scene below with those cold eyes of hers.

"What are we going to do?" I asked her, feeling for my panpipes in their pouch. She looked down at her bells, then back out at the fight. The Soldiers must have had Charter Spelled blades, for white sparks flew every time they struck a Dead Hand. Iana untied the straps on one of the bells, and pulled out Saraneth, the Binder. I stared at her incredulously, surely she wasn't going to take on this many Dead single-handedly! She must have sensed me looking at her, for she turned to me.

"Take out your pipes," she ordered; I did so, "Do you know which one is Kibeth?" I glanced down at the pipes.

"The Walker?" I whispered, "The third one," Iana nodded.

"We'll cast a Charter light together, so we can see the Dead properly, and to let the Soldiers know that we're not Dead of course," she began, looking back over the ridge to where the sounds of swords hacking at rotten flesh were getting louder, as half the original amount of soldiers were being driven back towards the steep, almost cliff-like hillside, "When I start ringing Saraneth, I'll have control over the Dead. You'll have to use Kibeth to send them back into Death one at a time." I shuddered, but nodded. As the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, Iana knew what she was doing… hopefully…

Ooooooo! Scary Dead thingies walking around... If you like this, please review, but even if you don't, I'll still post the next chapter. -

Iana XxX