The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog
Disclaimer:
Warnings: Spoiler warning. Read at your own risk. Especially if you haven't read Lirael.
Notes: Go to Belisaere! See my bio for info, thanks very much. Big happy thanks to random-candle and KaliedescopeCat for the lovely beta job!
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Part One: Seven Meetings
Chapter Ten: Mindful Words
How long ago was it when that man stood beside her with a blade in his hand and a grin on his face? His resemblance to Belgaer was uncanny. Yet Belgaer was calm and thoughtful. Orannis was proud and arrogant, a symbol of power and strength.
And he stood there tall, proud, arrogant, and powerful. His face was young, though. He looked no older than twenty. Kibeth tried hard not to smile at her old friend, despite what he had done. The group was out of the Chamber and lone Orannis was standing four feet away, a suspicious glint in his eye. Belgaer said nothing, Dyrim looked sad, Mosrael looked to her brother, and Saraneth and Ranna snarled with fury.
"You know well you are not welcome, Kinslayer," Ranna said. "Go back to Death where you belong!"
She did not know if this affected Orannis, but Kibeth felt a stab of pain in her chest. "Do not be so cruel, Ranna," she whispered. Ranna glanced at Kibeth and spoke with strained anger.
"He is a murderer, and yet you defend him?"
"And I would defend her, but you on the other hand..." They were the first words Kibeth had heard out of Orannis' lips in hundreds of years. Unlike the rest of his appearance, his voice wasn't as gentle and cynical as it used to be. It resonated among them, deep and powerful.
"Shut up," said Ranna. His voice was no longer musical. Why was everything changing?
"Telefil, Telefon. Go into the Chamber with your aunt," Saraneth said to the twins. Much like their father were they: tall, with brown hair and dark eyes.
"Father, please-" one said.
"Go!" Saraneth looked at them with a threatening glance, and they obeyed.
"You treat your sons as if they were children," Orannis spoke coolly.
"It is not your business. They are children compared to one as malicious as you, Orannis." Saraneth said calmly.
Orannis' lip curled, and he said nothing.
"Leave Orannis." Kibeth turned to Belgaer as he spoke and inched closer to him, away from Ranna. "For I shall not see you slain on these grounds as you have done to others. Even if you deserve it."
Orannis stood up taller when his older sibling took part in the conversation. Now their resemblance showed even more, save for Orannis' long hair. "I doubt you shall slay me! What a trap it would be, sending for me, and then killing me! You would descend to my level?"
Kibeth groaned to herself. Why did you come back? You idiot, Ranna will slay you. Then what, Old Friend? I cannot rescue you again. They will not listen. I have not the strength...
Thou shalt not worry, sister. For Ranna will bring me no harm, not in your presence. And Belgaer protects his little brother still, and he protects you. Why do you neglect him? My brother grew jealous, I see.
Kibeth's mouth fell open slightly as Orannis' words came flooding into her mind. The Free Magic felt stronger in that sudden moment. As the others questioned and accused him, he spoke secretly to Kibeth, directly into her mind.
You like this new power I have achieved. Aye, I thought of thee when I learned it, sister.
What do you mean I neglect Belgaer? Why do you twist things around?
As Orannis spoke with Ranna a smile curled upon his lips.
Your love for Ranna hurt him. He wanted to rid the Old Kingdom of the King once he saw...
Kibeth felt a lump in her throat grow; it grew until it hurt and she clutched Belgaer's arm, burying her face in his cloak. He made no sign though.
You speak lies, Orannis. I love Belgaer and you wish to come between us because you love Astarael.
She tried to believe this; for all she knew, this was partly true.
Astarael I love., and I have wished for her since I was young. I did rue the day when my brother took her from me.
Astarael was never yours to begin with. She hated you.
I know. And she hated thee, sister. For you stole her beloved.
Beloved indeed. Lust is all I can find between the two.
Lust, is something I share with Astarael also. But she shunned me. She did not smile for me. She did not care for me. She did not love me. But I love her.
And I pity you, Orannis, that you love her still. But my heart lies with Belgaer, and I have forgiven him.
As you wish, sister. But be careful. Little love is between Ranna and Belgaer now, as there is little love between you and Astarael. I say Astarael will be your death.
"Leave, Kinslayer! You bring nothing but sorrow and anger," Saraneth said suddenly.
Kibeth blinked for a moment and searched the halls with her eyes. Orannis still looked calm, but his face was paler. He was corrupted, her little Orannis who held her hand as their fathers read to them. The young boy who crafted toys and instruments with his elder brother was now... different. His spirit was twisted.
She clutched Belgaer's robes tighter. Orannis was dangerous. The sparkle in his eyes, was dangerous. His arrogant smile, was dangerous.
"Sorrow and anger I may bring, but I was summoned by Dyrim, and only by his leave will I depart."
"You know well, Orannis, that Saraneth arranged the Sending. You will abide by his rule." Mosrael spoke clearly and her head was held high. The moonstones upon her brow glinted in the lighted room and she indeed held much power within her.
"Not by Saraneth's word will Orannis depart." Dyrim had left the Charter Chamber and entered the halls. His silver hair sparkled and his eyes were wisdom. "For it was I that ordered Saraneth."
Saraneth said nothing, but Orannis smiled maliciously.
"Good evening, Dyrim the Wise." Orannis gave a bow and looked upon Dyrim with dark eyes. There was long silence between the two, and Ranna scoffed angrily and departed followed by his sister into the bedchamber halls. Perhaps it was best, Ranna loved Orannis not at all, and such feelings were dangerous.
"You have learned my art well, Orannis." Dyrim said after several minutes.
Now Belgaer showed sign of emotion, for he shoved Kibeth away from him swiftly. It did not hurt her, nor was it powerful enough to send her to the ground. But it shocked her.
"You learned how to Speak?" Belgaer's face was covered in suspicion and fury.
Saraneth made a sort of chortle before he said his part. "But only Dyrim knows that skill. Dyrim taught it to know one." Saraneth turned to Dyrim with a confused look on his face.
"Free Magic taught me this, not Dyrim." said Orannis.
It was in that instant that Kibeth knew her little friend was no longer her friend at all, for some of the Free Magic that was used in the Halls came to Orannis. A white light flashed and a strong metallic smell soiled the air. Kibeth could not breathe, and she could not think. Thousands of screams, hundreds of visions entered her mind.
She remembered what she wished could be forgotten. Her mother holding her close before the Stilken came. Belgaer yelling at her, accusing her, leaving her, Ranna holding her in what she thought was betrayal, and her little Orannis, bringing his blade to her father's chest. As fast as it came, it soon departed. The blinding white light subsided and Kibeth heard herself gasp, tasting air as if her lungs never tasted it before. But then it was dark.
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Lirael.
That name.
Bound to the Clayr. Bound to the Abhorsen. Released by the Charter. So your destiny shall be.
-
Kibeth opened her eyes slowly. She was still in the Chamber, but instead of being lit, it was dim, the lamps were shattered. Kibeth was on the floor. She got up, and realized she had been injured. Her arm was cut and bruised. The shards of lamp cut through her tunic and her right arm was scratched. Her forehead and cheeks were cut also. A simple healing spell was in order, and as soon as she spoke it her cuts were healed.
Orannis was gone.
Saraneth was lying on his side to her left. He had suffered no damage, having managed to cast an extremely weak diamond of protection just before Orannis unleashed his Free Magic. Of course, it must have broken a while ago, since not a trace lingered. At least he wasn't hurt.
Kibeth turned around. Belgaer lay on his stomach. She ran to his side and turned him over. His eyes opened with the same difficulty and he blinked when he saw Kibeth. She smiled as he looked at her.
"I saw you," he whispered. "Locked in a chamber, and I couldn't save you. I thought you'd freeze." Kibeth sighed; even if his words didn't make sense, she was glad he wasn't injured. She placed her fingers on his brow.
Orannis was wrong. That was all Kibeth could say to herself now.
"Promise me," Belgaer reached for her hand and placed it on his breast, just above his heart. "That you won't let me leave you."
Kibeth's smile widened and laid her head gently against his chest. "I promise," she whispered.
Belgaer smiled before his eyes closed and he fell into slumber. Kibeth felt something else tug at her, besides Belgaer's love. She didn't know what it was. A beckoning, urging her to release her woe and despair. Summoning her to her father, her mother. It felt as if she was tainted, never to be healed, wandering until her loves were no more and the years of her life spent into nothing.
She found out, thousands of years later when she looked up at it with the object of her destiny. The Ninth Gate was calling her.
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A/N: He calls her sister because of Kibeth's bond with Belgaer, and their past.