*Chapter Nine*
"Palamedes!"
He faintly felt hands gripping his shoulders.
"Palamedes!"
In a sudden burst of red light, the scene before Palamedes' eyes changed. Grass and the black canvas of Oliver's tennis shoes turned to stone, and what he saw made him wish that he was dead.
Will writhed and screamed, in apparent pain, on the cold stone floor. She stood over him, her red aura forming a burning circle about him.
"'We have scotched the snake, not killed it'," she mused, directing her words at Palamedes. Then she smiled, and turned her eyes towards him.
"Hurry up."
"Palamedes!"
A heavy object collided with the crown of Palamedes' head, and he looked up to see Shakespeare retreating as Oliver pulled his book back.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Roland and Hercules were kneeling next to Palamedes, where they had clearly been trying to jolt him from his illusion. Aude was standing by her brother, wringing her hands as she cast nervous glances at the crowd, who, luckily, had not noticed Palamedes' breakdown, as "Roland" was grieving his companion's death in a pathetic, sappy manner.
"Will," he gasped, speaking to himself. He got to his feet, pushing away the helping hands, and strode out of the clearing, the others following.
"Palamedes."
It was Aude. Her chamomile aura flared to life as she gripped his arm. It soothed him, giving him a chance to think.
"We'll find him."
In her dark eyes—so like her brother's—Palamedes saw Will's torture replay, and realized that she too had seen it.
"You saw—?"
"Yes." Her soft voice was sad. "I did. It's a special gift, you could say. Any illusions, I can see. But that's not the point. The point is—"
"Whoa!" Hercules yelled as, with shrieks and curses, the crowd parted, revealing a tall young man, dressed all in black, twirling two twin blades in his gloved hands.
Cloves and incense were the first smells on the air, quickly followed by chamomile, ylang ylang, and coriander as Aude, Oliver, and Roland activated their auras.
"Palamedes. I had the pleasure of briefly meeting your friend," the young man drawled."He wasn't looking too good, but—" he deflected a bolt of sienna colored Aether from Oliver without even looking, "—he'll last a little longer. Until she gets bored."
"Mordred," Palamedes snarled, drawing his sword. "Didn't think I'd see you again."
"Didn't want to see you again," Mordred said casually, pushing back Aude and Roland's blue and brown arrows with a black wave of power that sent them to their knees, clutching their ears as sonic energy pressed upon their eardrums. Hercules and Palamedes resisted, and Oliver's aura glittered in a shield. His black clothes were replaced by a hauberk and armor.
"And look," Mordred piped in fake enthusiasm. "Roland and Oliver. And the lovely Aude. And Hercules. What a group."
Another bolt of Aether darted towards him. He blocked most of it, but was grazed slightly.
"Good shot, Oliver," he said wryly."
"Wonderful, Olivere!" Roland called in French as he staggered to his feet, helping his wife up also. Both of them sent unexpected ripples of auric energy rushing across the ground. Mordred fell, caught unawares, and Palamedes and Hercules took their chance. They came at him from either side, Palamedes with a sword, Hercules with a heavy club. Mordred scrambled to his feet, pushing a wave of energy at them. The two immortals fought against it, and, thanks to a united attack from the three French immortals, Palamedes managed to bring the flat side of his blade swinging into Mordred's head with enough force to rattle him.
Mordred fell to his knees.
"Beaten," Hercules said, placing his hands on Mordred's shoulders.
The defeated young man stared at Palamedes. He raised his hand.
Aude, Roland, and Oliver all prepared to attack, but Mordred swung his other hand towards them in a placating gesture.
"Just delivering a message."
He tossed a crumpled piece of paper at Palamedes.
Then, suddenly, the whole clearing echoed with a high pitched whistle, and Mordred vanished, leaving the immortals cowering, with only the smell of black licorice still lingering on the air.