Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.
Warning: I've tried for vivid descriptions of injuries in this chapter, so just in case I succeeded...
AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. Thank you, thank you, thank you, to all my reviewers! Enjoy and please review. Thanks! P.S., text between asterisks = *thought communication*
With This Ring
Chapter 6: Dance with the Reaper
"His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya, the King of Shin Makoku, and Prince Wolfram von Bielefeld."
The double doors opened and they made their entrance. Focusing on dignity, Yuuri descended the fanning black-veined white marble staircase with Wolfram at his side. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Mustn't watch where his feet were going and risk appearing subservient to those of lesser rank. A thick burgundy runner cushioned each step so if he fell, at least it wouldn't hurt too much.
"Lord Gwendal von Voltaire and Lord Gunter von Kleist of the Shin Makoku delegation."
Halfway down. Once they reached the ballroom floor, he'd be able to breathe.
"Lord Conrart Weller, the Lady Gisela von Kleist, and Lord Ken Murata of the Shin Makoku delegation."
Nothing moved in the huge ballroom. Everyone, noble and servant alike, was staring at them. Suddenly images from Shori's graduation popped into Yuuri's head. When his class paraded down the aisle two by two, proud parents and friends watched from all sides, taking snapshots and recording with handhelds and from more professional cameras on tripods. This was a lot like that but without the smiles or the technology. That last bit though he figured was a good thing.
They reached the landing in one piece. As soon as the others reached him and Wolfram, the guests en masse bowed at the waist in a sign of welcome and courtesy. Then all heads turned to face the top of the staircase. The ornate double doors were once again closed. Everyone waited for the last entrance of the evening.
The gentle music that had been playing faded away and a new tune filled the air. Despite being performed by what sounded like a string quartet, the music has a military feel to it that Yuuri had previously believed only brass instruments could achieve. The pulse vibrated in his bones. Yuuri resisted the urge to look around and see how the musicians were doing it.
"Her Gracious Majesty, King Jaida of Aeriemille, long may she reign."
The doors opened once again, and King Jaida swept in. Yuuri had seen that term used in some of the books he'd read for homework assignments, but he had never expected to see someone do it with his own eyes.
A vision in sienna, forest green, and copper tones, Jaida descended the staircase with two ladies-in-waiting more demurely dressed in the same color scheme following in her wake, one to the left and the other to the right. Her gown fit like a second skin from her hips to just below the shoulders, leaving them bare, framed by a thick braid of shimmery copper cloth and green and rusty brown ribbons. The sleeves reached past her wrists where they belled slightly. A folded fan hung on a thin cord from her right wrist.
The skirt was layered like the petals of a chrysanthemum, each layer progressively darker until the hem layer was just a few shades off from true brown. With each step, they'd lift and drift back into place, giving the impression that she was floating down the stairs.
But what really drew his eyes was her hair. It wasn't so much styled as sculpted. Some of the long brownish red strands had been twisted into tiny braids and draped into a nest for the formal diadem of diamond-studded starburst points she wore for the occasion.
When Jaida reached the landing where he stood, Yuuri saw that more braids twined with the loose hair and fancy beaded combs to shape it into a series of tapering waves cascading down her back. Thinking how long that must have taken made his own stint with his dressers seem like a picnic.
Yuuri stepped forward, away from the others. For the space of a breath, he faced the other monarch. Jaida's expression was just as solemn as his but the sparkle in her eyes gave him hope for the rest of the evening.
On the last note of the anthem, they bowed to each other simultaneously and at the same angle. Per Gunter, it declared to all present that they were on equal footing as rulers and in negotiations.
Next, as hostess and guest of honor, Jaida and he would officially start the evening with the first dance. Yuuri stood straight and offered his arm with a smile. Jaida returned it and placed her hand lightly on the glittering sleeve. He escorted her to the center of the dance floor. The hidden musicians began a piece with a waltz tempo. Assuming the proper hold, Yuuri led her into the dance with a smoothness that he was sure had Gunter grinning from ear to ear with pride in his student.
After their first circuit of the ballroom, other dancers slipped onto the floor. With their company, he didn't feel so self-conscious.
"You look beautiful tonight, Jaida."
"Thank you," she accepted his sincere compliment with a smile. "They're behind the dragon screen."
"Huh?"
Something in his expression made Jaida's smile come alive. She pointed with a careful nod of her head. "See the balcony across from the staircase? The quartet is behind the screen, above the fray. Long ago, the musicians had a place on the floor itself. However, one of my ancestors had them moved after an inebriated guest stumbled into the screen during a very important ceremony and shattered an even more expensive instrument. It was three generations before that noble's family was allowed to attend court functions."
Yuuri winced in sympathy. He hoped none of his social faux pas ended up part of Shin Makoku historical record. Well, except for the big one. Unfortunately the story of the slap that got him engaged to Wolfram would be told for centuries to come.
"I think putting the band up there is perfect. The sound travels better."
"You're right there." Her expression took on a naughty child's secret smirk. "Honestly? I think the move had already been in the works. I've read the histories. The balcony was a late addition to the ballroom. I believe that ancestor of mine simply didn't like that particular noble and took advantage of the opportunity."
Yuuri's eyes widened, then both rulers burst into delighted laughter. Some of the other dancers stared in disapproval at their lack of decorum but Yuuri didn't really care. He was beginning to enjoy himself at last.
"After this dance, do you want to grab some punch and sit and talk for a bit?"
"I'd love to, but for the next hour we must both speak with each of the heads of the noble houses represented here tonight. Seek me out after that." Jaida's head tilted slightly to the left as she gazed into his eyes. "King Yuuri of Shin Makoku, I find that I like you very much. Your honesty is fresh air clearing the thick smoke of a smoldering fire. I consider you a friend, to me and my country."
He nodded in agreement. "I feel the same way, as do my advisers."
"I am glad. Aeriemille has need of friends."
Her smile and eyes were suddenly much too serious, almost sad. "What do you mean?"
For a moment he thought she was going to explain, but like a chameleon, her demeanor changed to fit their surroundings."
"That conversation is for another day. Shall we schedule a picnic with your fiancé in the next few days?"
"It's a date."
The music ended and Yuuri escorted his partner back to the sidelines. Jaida rejoined her ladies and moved off to begin her circuit of the room. Yuuri did the same, Conrad at his side.
-o0O0o-
As soon as the other couples began joining Yuuri and Jaida on the dance floor, Murata sidled down the side wall, passing all the refreshment stations until he reached Gisela who stood near the servant's entrance pretending to nibble at the plate of hors d'oeuvres in her hand. She'd twisted her hair up on her head and pinned it in place with jade hair sticks. She really looked beautiful in her blush pink empire waist evening gown, a pale green orchid pinned at her left shoulder. Even as he approached he saw a disappointed potential dance partner walk away to find a willing lady.
Gisela gave him a bright smile though the tension around her eyes put the lie to the cheer she'd put on for anyone watching.
"I wish you could have said yes."
"There'll be time for dancing after we rescue Wolfram." She set her plate down on a folding tray set up for used dishes. "The kitchens are this way. I can get some of what we need there."
Murata gave her a short bow and swept his hand in gallant's gesture, "After you," and followed the healer into the side corridor.
-o0O0o-
The shadows of the string quartet behind the backlit translucent screen depicting dragons soaring over a mountain range added an ethereal touch to the soothing music wafting through the air. It was just loud enough to set the mood without interfering with conversation.
Imposter, untouched drink in hand, kept himself ready for opportunity while making the required small talk and fending off the occasional flirt. One rather obnoxious nobleman, several cups of wine ahead of the game, was very persistent. He refused to take a hint. No matter where he went, the fool trailed after him, intruding into conversations with what he thought were subtle innuendoes.
Gods, if Bielefeld put up with this kind of crap on a daily basis, no one should be surprised he had a temper. If it weren't for his mission, Wolfram's second to the last act this night would top any tantrum in his past.
He needed to deal with the drunkard now. Already the king and his ever-present bodyguard were drifting his way, either to defend Wolfram's honor or to prevent flaming disaster. If he was to have the freedom needed to accomplish his master's objective, he did not need the two men safeguarding him. So with a sly smile, Imposter bent closer to whisper in the man's ear.
By the time Yuuri reached him, his problem had fled the room with as much dignity as his state allowed. Everyone heard him lose the contents of his stomach in the foyer. Imposter's smile widened.
"Wolfram, what did you do?" the Demon King whispered, keeping a pleasant expression on his face.
"Nothing. The man offered to show me his magnificent package. I offered to roast it for him. Apparently my descriptive language put him off."
Imposter almost felt sorry for the tongue of the Demon King who was obviously biting it to keep from laughing out loud. Conrart showed absolutely no reaction at all. He had excellent control, a dangerous man indeed.
Yuuri saluted him with his glass of fruit punch. "I ought to know better than to worry about you."
He returned it, "Wimp. It's my job to protect you, remember. I can protect myself. And don't think I'm not keeping an eye on you. No flirting, got it?"
"Got it."
In his peripheral vision, Imposter saw King Jaida angling toward the buffet. "I think I'll get something to eat. Shall I bring you something, Yuuri, Conrart?"
"Not right now. Gunter is heading this way with…" he concentrated, "Lord and Lady Erkstein. It'll be a while before I can get free. Go ahead. I'll eat when I can. We can share dessert later."
With a nod, Imposter left the pair to make his way toward their royal hostess. The time with her dressers had been well spent. The brocaded sienna gown with its layers of slips and whatever else it took to maintain that bell shape, the tightly laced bodice that compressed the detriments and enhanced the attributes of a woman's figure, and the elaborate braid and gemstone sculpture that her hair had become made a perfect picture. But it did have a severe setback. Her handmaidens had to bring food and drink to her because the belled skirt didn't let her approach the buffet stations safely. Jaida's movement was so restricted he wondered if she has sacrificed the ability to sit tonight for fashion.
All the better for his plans.
Imposter stepped into her line of sight to take up a plate and add a selection of meat pastries to it.
"Lord von Bielefeld," she greeted him with a sunny smile. "I'm very glad you bought the jacket after all. It's one of Master Entrow's best efforts. It's almost as if he made it with you in mind. I daresay you are the most handsome person here tonight."
With a courtier's bow, he turned the compliment back. "With the exception of your Majesty, of course."
"What, this old thing?" She fluttered an ivory lace fan coyly in front of her face then dropped the façade to admit, "Honestly, I hate this thing. Whoever designed the formal garb of Aeriemille royalty must have hated the last queen."
Imposter shrugged, "I have to admit, it doesn't look very comfortable. There's a saying where Yuuri comes from, something about suffering for beauty. This sort of thing must be what he meant."
"I'd feel less put out if the suffering was shared equally. How much will you wager that if men were forced to wear corsets the dratted things would quickly and quietly cease to exist."
"A distinct possibility," he smirked over the lip of his champagne flute, the bubbles tickling his nose, "although I know a few noblemen who might benefit from that particular fashion."
Jaida arched an eyebrow at him, "Lord von Bielefeld, you have a wicked sense of humor."
He shrugged, "So I've been told."
Behind the screen, the quartet began another composition and the King's face lit with pleasure. "Oh, I love this tune! Would you care to dance, my lord?"
Imposter bowed at the waist, hiding any betrayal in his expression as the woman gave him the opening he'd been waiting for.
"I do indeed, Your Majesty. And it is my honor to be your second partner of the evening."
Jaida gave him a perfect curtsey and let him take her hand in his. Once on the dance floor, she settled into his frame and they stepped gracefully into the waltz. He smiled. If she only knew she danced to his tune.
As they spun and floated around the floor, Imposter heard the compliments of the observers. No few caught his eyes as they passed. Some he knew were his confederates but which ones he didn't even try to guess. If things went wrong, the less he knew the better.
"You seem distracted, my lord. Am I that poor a partner?" Jaida gently teased him.
"Not in the least, King Jaida. I was just thinking how beautiful you look tonight. Not many people get to die looking their best."
He watched the terror blossom in her eyes as he pulled her close, grinned as he triggered the accelerant spell his master had given him.
-o0O0o-
Huddled with Gisela over a small black kettle in the castle apothecary, Murata felt the change in the magical atmosphere. His head shot up so fast, he knocked into the healer's head with a painful thump. Rubbing her forehead while stirring their concoction, she stared at him with concern.
"What is it?"
"We're out of time."
Gisela's face went white. Without another word, she helped him pour their brew into a bottle. It would have to be enough. He slapped a cork into the neck, passed it to her, and then they were running full speed toward the ballroom, leaving the puzzled herbalist in their wake.
-o0O0o-
Imposter grabbed a fistful of Jaida's skirt. When the flames caught the layered cloth, the woman would go up like a torch.
To his shock, the magical fire refused to burn her. It flowed away from Jaida as if an invisible shield protected her. No time to wonder how or why. His window was rapidly closing. They were close to one of the buffet stations. He reached out, grabbed a steak knife, and thrust for her heart.
Someone, one of her attending ladies, barreled into his side, throwing off his aim so that the blade sheered along her left side, parting the silk to expose the metal chest guard beneath her gown. As he fell, he saw Jaida stagger backward, falling into one of the other dancing couples, clutching her side as she stumbled to her knees.
Then he hit the floor with the other woman on top of him. She slammed his knife hand repeatedly against the hardwood. He boxed her ear with his free hand. The woman growled at him as the wig slipped to cover half of her… no, his face. Yosak!
Damn! How long had they known? Didn't matter, he had to kill Jaida and get out!
By now their struggle had entangled several of the dancers who were now running into each other in their attempts to get out of the way. Around them, people were beginning to realize what was going on. Word was traveling like a wave through the ballroom.
"It's the Demon Prince!" "He's attacked our King!" "Assassin!" "King Jaida's dead!"
If only she were. He'd missed the kill strike, but at least the second prong of their mission was well underway. No matter Jaida's preferences, her people would never accept an alliance with the Demon Kingdom now.
The shouts and screams provided a counterpoint to his fierce, near silent and dirty battle with the half breed spy. Imposter managed a vicious knee blow to Yosak's ribcage, throwing the bigger man off of him. He leapt to his feet and ran at Jaida again. She scrambled to her feet, a small knife she'd somehow armed herself with in her hand, ready to defend herself.
-o0O0o-
Miles away and still hidden under the blanket his captors had draped over him, Wolfram sensed the Imposter's attention go fully to his attempt on Jaida, leaving him the opening he had been waiting for.
Now!
He launched his dearly hoarded strength down the ring bond and into his double.
-o0O0o-
Imposter felt heat engulf his hand. When he felt pain, so faint at first, he ignored it. When it escalated, he raised his left hand to stare at it, horrified. White hot flames surged around the fingers, eating away at his flesh. Imposter flung his hand about wildly, trying to free himself from the fire's grip. Tongues of it scattered, sparking fires wherever they landed but the main of it clung to him and burned even more fiercely.
He screamed in rage and pain as he sensed the cause of his torment.
*You!*
Von Bielefeld didn't respond, but he sensed the Demon Prince's defiance and determination as he sent even more fire down the bond.
*The next time I see you, I am going to tear your freakish heart out!*
He called out the shield spell that protected him from the accelerant spell he'd tried to use against Jaida. Wolfram's flames flickered a moment, then roared back stronger than ever.
Now he was screaming in earnest as his flesh began to char.
-o0O0o-
At first, Yuuri paid no attention to the rising voices. After all it was a party. But then the sound took on an edge of panic. He turned to Conrad and saw the concern on his face. The taller man was staring over the heads at something happening on the dance floor. Concentrating, Yuuri was able to make out some of the words.
"… Jaida's dead … burn us all … assassin … demon killed…"
Then he saw the flames and smoke rising above the now panicking mob and heard the agonized screaming. The stench of burning flesh choked him.
"Wolf."
"Yuuri, wait!"
He ignored Conrad's outcry, forcing his way against the tide of guests and servants fleeing the room. His only thoughts were for Wolfram and Jaida, who he'd last seen dancing in that vicinity. Something awful must have happened for the fire demon to call his element under these circumstances. He had to get to them!
As the ballroom emptied, it got easier to move forward. Yuuri saw some servants and a few guests who'd kept their heads and were trying to put out several spot fires. He sensed though that they were born of Wolfram's maryoku, which meant only he could put them out. With a flick of his fingers, Yuuri sent small water spouts to contain them for the time being, never breaking stride.
When he reached his goal, coughing hoarsely on the foul smoke, his heart almost stopped in his chest. Jaida was being steadied by one of the ladies she'd entered the ballroom with who wielded a very deadly looking knife. Jaida stepped free of her and took a fighter's stance, her gown torn, the once perfect hair a mess, and wielding a small but deadly dagger of her own, which he realized suddenly had served as a decorative comb in her hair minutes ago.
In front of her crouched Yosak dressed as one of her ladies in waiting, wig askew, patches of the dress singed, one hand clutching his side. Deepening bruises gave evidence of the fight he must have engaged in with the man writhing on the floor before them.
He was screaming and sobbing, curled around his burning hand. Even as Yuuri stared, horrified as he recognized the green jacket and the blonde hair, blisters burst and skin blackened over muscles contracting the fingers into claws as the fire consumed them.
Yuuri immediately called forth his own element. Deal with the most urgent problem, he told himself. The rest will have to wait for later.
The water dragon flowed into being between his cupped hands and shot forward to coil around the smaller man and engulf his fire-covered hand. For a few seconds, the flames continued to feed, but then as if recognizing his opposing element as a friend, the fire, including the spot fires scattered about the battle zone contracted and withdrew.
By now, Conrad had reached him. "Yuuri, stay back!" his godfather shouted, his voice hoarse from smoke irritation. "He's not Wolfram!"
"I know."
-o0O0o-
People tearing in a panic down the hall in the opposite direction they wanted to go slowed their advance to the point that Murata wanted to scream. He grabbed the arm of a woman in a white apron with flour dusting her hands and smeared across one pale cheek.
"What's going on?"
"The castle's on fire! They say the demons have turned on us, killed King Jaida, and are attacking our country. Let me go, I have to get to my babies!"
She twisted free and was gone before Murata had a chance to reassure her. He shared a worried look with Gisela.
Things were about to get ugly.
-o0O0o-
The man wearing his fiancé's face turned to him with such a look of hurt betrayal that if he had been who he pretended to be, Yuuri would already be reassuring him and begging forgiveness for ever doubting him. "I don't know what's wrong with Conrart, but I'm me." He pushed wet hair out of his face. "Look at me, Yuuri! You know who I am."
"I know who you aren't. Our Wolfram would never have lost control of his fire like this."
"I haven't!" the other gasped rocking on his knees now with his ruined arm cradled against his chest. "Someone in the crowd turned my fire against me, some kind of foreign spell. Please, Yuuri, help me. It hurts."
"Wolf would never attack a friend either. You want us to help you? Then tell us who you are and where Wolfram is!"
Tears were streaming down the so familiar face. "Stop acting like you don't know me! What is wrong with you two?"
Yuuri was growing dangerously irritated. In response, the water dragon tightened its coils around the false Wolfram, cutting off the lies. Yuuri bent closer. "Where is Wolfram?"
Green eyes darted around the room and a look of satisfaction transformed his expression. Yuuri followed the path the imposter's gaze took. He had been so focused on dealing with the fires and the realization that his Wolfram wasn't with them, that he'd lost track of what was going on around him.
The ballroom was practically empty. Even the people who had stayed to try to put out the fires were gone.
Gisela and Murata were nowhere to be seen. Gwendal was having a fierce whispered conversation with Gunter, and two of his own men a little way off. One, apparently an air demon, began opening the windows and exterior doors for the breeze he called to clear the smoky air. Gunter, after a glance and a nod of reassurance his way, strode swiftly out with the other soldier through the door Yuuri had seen servants using earlier. Gwendal headed their way.
Other than his own people and Jaida and her lady bodyguard, the only other people in the room were Jaida's Captain of the Guard who was directing some of Jaida's troupes to guard the entrances even as he descended the grand staircase.
He remembered the words he'd heard before everything went crazy and felt his face go white as he realized that every one of the guests and servants who'd fled believed that Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld had just attempted to assassinate their King. Within the hour the entire town would hear that the Demon Kingdom attacked their sovereign, or worse. His people were out there celebrating, unarmed and outnumbered. If the crowds turned into a mob, they didn't stand a chance. He turned to face his chief counselor.
"Gwendal…!"
The eldest brother quickly assured him, "Gunter is taking a troupe of men to bring our people back to the castle. They will be safe here, and if necessary they will defend them," he glanced Jaida's way, "with minimum force."
She gave him a solemn nod.
Yuuri, angrier than he remembered ever being, faced their prisoner. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it, to disrupt the talks and end any chance of a treaty between Aeriemille and Shin Makoku."
"We only succeeded in part. I failed to kill Jaida. But we have your prince where your magic cannot find him."
Yuuri felt anger transform into fury burning in his chest as his realization of the danger to his people and to Wolfram brought a smug smile to the assassin's lips, despite the agony he must be suffering.
"You'll need my help to find him. Deal with me," he turned to face Conrart who had been a silent sentry at Yuuri's back throughout the exchange and Gwendal who now stood beside him, his face so very blank, "or never see your baby brother again."
He turned back to Yuuri, triumph in his eyes. "Don't take too long to say yes. Tick tock."
And deep within him the Maoh woke.
-o0O0o-
"My orders are no one enters, no one else leaves."
Murata drove his fingers through his hair, "I don't believe this!" For the last five minutes he and Gisela had been arguing and bluffing their way passed a cordon of security – suspiciously absent when it was needed. In Shin Makoku, his reputation would have been enough to get them in, but here that counted for nothing.
"Let me explain this one more time. We need to get to King Yuuri now before things go too far to prevent an inter-country incident. Lives are at stake!"
"I don't have the authority to…"
"Apparently, you don't have a brain either!"
Murata raised an eyebrow at the tone of Gisela's voice and got out of her way. Seeing a petite and gorgeous lady in an elegant evening gown, the poor soldier simply had no idea what he faced. Murata wanted to have a good viewpoint for the confrontation.
All patience gone, Gisela advanced on the suddenly nervous guard like a force of nature. "Look, you imbecilic, two-dimensional, twit! A man is dying because you don't have the sense of a brick wall. The assassin in there may well have information your King needs to prevent irreparable damage to your country. Are you willing to take responsibility for depriving her, your nation, of vital intelligence? Where I come from, that's treason and punishable by swift and summary execution. In your case, I would happily wield the axe. Think for yourself for the first time in your miserable life and let us in!"
Gisela didn't bother to wait for permission. She placed her palm flat against his breastbone and shoved with controlled force, sending the wide-eyed fool staggering backward into a potted plant, and stalked through the door. Murata paused long enough to give him a not very sympathetic smile and trotted after the medic.
When he caught up with her, Gisela shot him a glare hard enough to shatter glass.
"What?"
"Nothing," he smiled with genuine admiration. "Just thinking how very different you are from Gunter."
"Don't make assumptions, Geika. I am my father's daughter."
At the top of the staircase, the unmistakable stink of burned flesh and cloth hit him. Murata gaze scanned the room until he found who he sought. The imposter sat on the floor surrounded by Yuuri, Conrad, Gwendal, Yosak, Jaida, and her companion. And he was smiling at Yuuri.
Even from where he stood with Gisela, he felt the warning aura that preceded the Maoh's arrival.
"You handle the fake, leave Yuuri to me."
He ran down the stairs so fast his feet barely touched the steps.
-o0O0o-
That smile on Wolfram's face creeped him out and infuriated the Maoh within. Yuuri knew the moment his eyes stated to change because for the first time since their confrontation began, the imposter showed a trace of fear. Yuuri gave him a feral smile of his own.
A face imposed itself between him and his enemy. A growl rattled in his throat and he reached out to shove it out of the way. Hands caught his and held him still.
"Yuuri, you need to control yourself. We'll need the Maoh, but not yet."
The haze that covered his mind in the moments before the Maoh took over lifted enough for him to recognize who stood before him.
"Murata?"
His old friend gave him a grin, "Welcome back, Shibuya."
A touch on his shoulder brought Yuuri's focus to Jaida who peered into his eyes, her own understanding.
"Do what you need to do with this failed imposter, Yuuri." She pitched her voice to carry throughout the ballroom, reaching even the guard at the top of the staircase. "Find your fiancé. I will make sure no one else suffers this night."
Yuuri managed a stiff nod, most of his concentration on preventing or at least controlling the Maoh's emergence.
She gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, spun on her heel, and quick stepped toward a cluster of her soldiers with her companion in her wake. "Come with me, Captain. It's time we reassured our people that I am alive and well."
The sound of sharp heels running across the hardwood floor alerted him to Gisela's approach. Fearing she meant to go to the imposter's aid believing he was Wolfram, Yuuri reached out to block her way. The green-haired medic dodged him easily, but to his surprise she stopped well out of the fake's reach, pulled a cork out of the bottle in her hand, and flung the contents into the man's face. The assassin stared at her as if he thought she'd gone mad, then his eyes widened even further and he frantically tried to wipe whatever it was away with his good hand.
"It won't do any good." There was a hard satisfaction in Gisela's voice. "It's absorbed through the skin. In fact you're only speeding the process."
"What process?" Yuuri asked, watching the man's movements become more erratic. "What was that stuff?"
"It's a cocktail of potions my father and I devised on the fly." Gisela glanced briefly his way, "It took longer than I liked for Geika and me to gather and hobble all the ingredients together. We combined a nerve paralytic, a hypnotic, and a medicine we give it to patients who come into relationship with their elements too soon or who have lost control for whatever reason. It blocks their access to maryoku until they're ready to master it."
While Gisela explained, the imposter slumped to the floor, barely moving now. Yuuri recalled his water dragon. It was no longer needed.
"What will it do to him?"
Murata answered for her, "Prevent him from interfering when we use the ring to find Wolfram."
The ring. Yes, it all started when they took that tour of the city with Jaida. That's when the fake said someone gave him the ring they'd admired before the start of the party. Their Wolfram must have been taken that day, right from under his nose.
Yuuri looked to the charred hand, expecting to see heat warped metal. To his surprise, the serpent ring showed no damage at all. In fact, the faceted eyes glared back at him with a sentient malevolence so strong it actually caused him to take a step back. Impossible, a ring can't be alive.
Then why is it rearing its head back and hissing at him?
"Whoa!"
At his outcry, the three soldiers moved. Conrart put himself between him and the assassin. Yosak pulled two thin blades from somewhere and tossed one to his godfather who caught it deftly. Gwendal had drawn the hidden blade he'd demonstrated before, and all three looked ready to start carving the man smirking with Wolfram's face into very tiny pieces.
Murata took command. "Everyone stand down! Ignore it, Yuuri. Cooperation is not required for this to work."
"Ooookay." He took a deep breath and tried to do that. "You said we needed the Maoh."
The other double black turned him so he was facing their prisoner again. "Open to the Maoh but keep control. Justice has to wait if we're going to rescue Wolfram."
Yuuri took a deep breath and did his best to follow Murata's instructions. He visualized a window between him and the place in his mind where the Maoh rested. He pictured it opening an inch and the Maoh force flowing in like a cool breeze on a hot day, refreshing him and filling him with strength.
"That's it." The other boy's voice had a soothing effect, like a hypnotist guiding his subject. "Now look at the ring again and tell me what you see."
"Nothing… No, wait." Faint sparks of green and purple flitted in and out of his vision. Yuuri squinted and narrowed his focus on the sparks. They began to coalesce and take on a more definite shape.
-o0O0o-
Imposter lay still on the floor. The healer's potion was working, but he still has some voluntary movement. Why had so much gone wrong? He'd failed his masters once tonight. He refused to fail a second time. He shifted the false tooth at the back of his mouth with his tongue and bit down, breaking it open and releasing its bitter contents.
-o0O0o-
Murata jumped at the cracking sound echoing through the room. It and his movement broke Yuuri's concentration.
"Wha…?"
"I don't know, Yuuri. Does anyone know where that sound came from?"
Gwendal pointed, "The prisoner!"
The assassin convulsed brutally, bloody foam frothing over his lips and down his chin. Murata beat Gisela to his side by only a few seconds. She pressed two fingers to the man's carotid pulse, heedless of the ruin his blood was making of her gown. Her scowl deepened after she checked his eyes.
"I don't understand. His heart rate is thin, pupils dilated. What we gave him shouldn't have this effect."
Murata swore, "He's poisoned himself."
Gisela stared, "And if he dies?"
"The ring bond dies with him, and we lose our only link to Wolfram."
Suddenly Gwendal was there, a hand fisted around the dying man's throat, shaking him hard enough to snap his head back and forth. "Damn you, where is my brother?" But it did no good; the man was already too far gone.
Murata fought his own panic. He needed to think clearly now, more than at any other moment in this lifetime. There had to be a way….
"Gisela, can you heal the damage enough to keep him alive until the Maoh can reach Wolfram?"
Her hands shot out to hover over the dying man's heart and throat. The green glow of her magic gradually brightened, casting the too still face in ghastly shadows.
"I'd do my best, but whatever he took is devastating his systems. He won't last long."
Murata spun to face Yuuri who wore a horrified look as he struggled with the realization that someone was willing to commit suicide to keep him from saving Wolfram. Murata grabbed his face between his hands.
"Yuuri! Look at me! There's still a chance. When you stared at the ring, you started to see something, didn't you?"
"Yes, sparkles."
"Good, now find them again. Don't think, just focus on the ring."
His friend gave a shaky nod, took a steadying breath, and stared again at the ring. After a while, a relieved smile lightened Yuuri's face. Seven seconds had never been so long before.
"I see it now, there's a rope of light. It goes that way." He pointed to the glass doors that opened onto the interior gardens. "But it keeps fading in and out."
"That's because the imposter is dying. Follow it, Yuuri, quickly. Wolfram's at the other end. When you get there, remove the ring he'll be wearing as soon as you possibly can."
Nodding, Yuuri turned to the brothers. "I'll send up a signal when I reach him. Watch for it."
"Yes, Heika."
"We'll be there as fast as horses can take us."
His gaze went to Gisela. She gave him a brave smile.
"Whatever it takes, Heika, we will keep him alive until you bring Wolfram back to us."
Murata watched Yuuri close his eyes and summon his element. The largest water dragon he had ever called formed, no doubt guided by his desperate need. It coiled close to the floor and he mounted it, settling behind its ear fins. So fast that their wake nearly threw Murata off his feet, Yuuri and the dragon swept out of the ballroom, through the garden, over the castle walls, and into the night.
-o0O0o-
AN: Jaida has been saved and Yuuri is riding to Wolfram's rescue. What awaits him on the other side of the ring bond? Be here for Chapter 7: After the Ball.
-o0O0o-
Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me. This is my first attempt at an "action scene" - please review and let me know what you think. Chapter 7 is coming along fast so there won't be as long a wait for the next posting. Happy belated New Year!