9.
The journey from Agrabah to Getzistan through the back roads, slowed by a full caravan, had taken a week. The trip back to the Land of the Black Sand with only two on horseback (three counting the eel) took about two and a half days.
Sybil breathed deep as the reached the edge of her home, where gold and black sands swirled in battle with one another. She could already feel the magical signature that defined the land to those aware of it. Suddenly mindful of her companion, she sent out a glowing energy through the sands and saw some of the bumps underneath disappear.
"What was that for?" Farhis asked calmly.
"Mamlucks. I was just letting them know who I am and not to attack us," she explained and kicked her horse into a canter.
"They obey you?"
"Mostly," she said. "They really obey the one who creates them, and I've only made a few. But father told them to obey me so hopefully that holds."
"Why wouldn't it?" Farhis asked, not nervous but cautious.
"A wizard's state of mind is essential to spell casting. That's why you might see a sorcerer taking deep breaths or centering themselves before using powerful magic. It takes a force of will, determination, and focus to use magic. If a sorcerer loses these things…" She looked very worried. "Their powers become unstable and unpredictable."
"Then maybe…"Farhis suggested gently. "…we would be better off not announcing ourselves in the city. Is there another way in? Somewhere that we won't be noticed?"
"Maybe. I could try teleporting from here."
"You can do that?" Farhis said and when she nodded he twisted his lips. "Then why did we spend three days giving the horses a white coat?"
"Because I've never…!" She stopped, looking embarrassed. "I haven't really mastered it yet. And I've never done long distances like father does. But we should be alright from here if we don't take the horses. It makes animals sick," she said and dismounted. "Come over here," she said and pulled Xerxes out from under her cloak where he'd been sleeping. "Xerxes, we're going to teleport in. I need you to provide a base for me alright?" The little eel nodded vigorously and Sybil tossed her magic at him as he disappeared in a shower of green sparks.
"Provide a base?"
"You know I'm going to give you 'Basics Theories for Neophytes,'" she said thinly. "It's getting irritating explaining everything to you every time I cast a spell."
"Shouldn't a husband want to understand his wife better?" Farhis said with a charming grin.
Sybil tried vainly to hide the smile. "I thought we weren't going to think about that for a while?" she said but continued. "It's energy theory. I can lock in on Xerxes' magical signature and use it to help guide me to our destination. He's small, so he's easier to teleport. But the bigger the object, the harder it is." She took a deep breath. "Come closer to me."
"How close?" Farhis said, stepping nearer to her.
"Closer."
He scratched his neck as they touched shoulders.
Sybil rolled her eyes impatiently. "In front of me." She grabbed his arm and pulled him around.
Farhis lost his balance and instinctively threw his hands out to steady himself.
Sybil turned bright red, her cheeks flushing till her neck turned pink.
Farhis's face went stark and wide-eyed. "I-I-I…oh…I'm…sorry." He jerked his hand away from her left breast. "I'm so sorry I….err…." His palm was warm and tingling from where he'd felt her heartbeat. "I'm so sorry…" he muttered apologetically as he tried to find a way to explain himself.
"Never mind that," Sybil said, her voice higher than usual. "Just…come here." She moved him directly in front of her, not looking him in the eyes. "Focus on me. Take my hands," she said quickly and grabbed hold of them hastily.
Farhis felt a static-like charge raise the hair on his arms. The world around them went out of focus and he saw the green-blue fire swirl around them momentarily.
When it dissipated they were inside what he assumed was the Citadel's dining hall. A long table had been decorated in the kingdom's morbid colors and set as though about to entertain. But no food was present and the servants were looking from the kitchen door at them, no doubt surprised.
"Mistress Sybil!" one of them said in recognition, rushing forward and bowing to her formally.
"Chef," she said in recognition, obviously not remembering his name.
"It's good to have you back, mistress," he said, stammering nervously. "Things…have not been well lately. Not that I would ever speak out of turn!" he hurried along.
Sybil quieted him. "Now is not to time to be proper. I need to know what has been going on." She turned to the other servants. "Let no one know we have arrived. Especially not my father. Where is Naomi? I want to talk to her first."
"Who's Naomi?" Farhis asked when the chef left to fetch her.
"My father's…personal servant," she said, an edge to her voice.
Farhis soon saw why.
Naomi was a beautiful woman, perhaps three or four years older than Sybil and a picture of beauty. Her large brown eyes and thick, luxurious black hair fell like silk against her swarthy skin.
The look on her pretty face however, was less than pleasant as she saw who summoned her.
Sybil regarded her with much the same air. The two women sat across from one another and Sybil got to the point. "What's happened in my absence?"
Naomi scrunched her pretty face. "Five nights ago, all the lights went out, everything went dark, darker than usual. Mozenrath was up in the library and there was a scream. When we all got down there he was tending to Elaine's blood wounds. Your brother's room was in ruins and there was blood all over his bed."
Sybil went white, even her hair seemed to pale. "My brother…"
"No body has been found," Naomi said.
She breathed a little easier. "Continue. What about my father?"
Naomi frowned, but obeyed. "He's become more taciturn than usual. Since Morgan went missing he's stopped eating, stopped sleeping…stopped sleeping with me…" She looked distressed but Sybil was unsympathetic.
"His son is missing. Do you really think he'd choose you over Morgan?" she said coldly. "I want details."
Naomi's face went blank and she sneered. "You know sooner or later you're going to have to stop blaming me. Your father is a powerful man. Surely I'm not the first since you or your brother was born. A man needs companionship. I offer that. Mozenrath accepted." She smiled and stretched, showing off her lush, curvy body. "Who can blame him."
Sybil snarled, a clear, violent sound from her throat. Naomi jumped and started to pull away.
Farhis intercepted. "Naomi is it?" he asked and the woman nodded. "Listen, this isn't about you. A little boy is missing, your master's son. Do you really think he'll forgive you if you don't tell us what you know?"
The woman paused; apparently she had not considered this. "I don't know anything about Morgan," she said a moment later. "I was asleep when it happened. But I can tell you this. Mozenrath is mad," she said firmly. "I've seen him angry. I've seen him go cold with rage. This is different. He's gone round the twist. Daft." She curled a lock of hair around her finger. "I can't bring him out of it. And I know how to bring the man out of a blue funk."
"But daft how?" Farhis pressed, blocking Sybil's deepening anger from view with his body. "What's he doing that's different?"
"Well…" she thought, apparently more at ease talking with Farhis than her master's daughter. "He's been holed up in his lab for days. He does that anyhow sometimes, but he's refusing to admit anyone, even someone coming with food or water. He hasn't bathed. I only saw him leave once and he didn't come back till morning. He was dirty and bedraggled and refused to sleep even when I pleaded with him. He just kept saying, 'She'll never forgive me if I lose him.' And returned to his lab."
Farhis nodded and looked at Sybil, waiting to see if it had any effect on her. "She who?"
Sybil looked stunned. "My…my mother."
"Wouldn't she know by now? I mean if the whole palace knows…"
Sybil blushed suddenly and avoided his eyes.
"You didn't tell him?" Naomi said, her voice delighted at the prospect. "And him being your fiancée." She smiled at Farhis. "You see, dear boy…Sybil's mother…"
"If Sybil has something to tell me she can do it in her own time," Farhis said sharply. "I think we're done here." He dismissed her and turned to Sybil, trying not to let his own curiosity come forward. "Well…what now?"
"He's obviously trying to find Morgan…and getting more depressed when he can't," she surmised. "I don't know…this feels wrong."
"What do you mean?" Farhis asked.
"When Xerxes came…I thought he was just being paranoid." She began pacing back and forth. "Morgan is good at being quiet…and he likes to wander…sometimes he'll just go off around the Citadel for hours…"
"Even being blind?"
"Father always kept the dangerous things locked up tight. And we didn't want to make Morgan feel trapped," she explained. "But this…oh gods what if he's hurt! What if someone did kidnap him? Father has a hundred enemies!"
"Sybil!" Farhis stopped her before she could work herself up. "Think for a minute. You were attacked and now this? It would seem someone is specifically after your family."
Sybil stopped, her mind racing after Farhis's statement. "Yes…and if those raiders were sent to capture me, then…"
"Then in all likelihood they were going to do the same to Morgan."
"Which means he's probably still alive." Sybil calmed down, her eyes darting back and forth as she began to walk quickly towards the door. "We need to get up to the bedroom."
"Are you sure that's a good idea? If it's in the condition they say it is…"
"There may be clues. Some trace of something that could help tell us where he is," Sybil insisted. "We have to get up there. Without father seeing us."
"Can we teleport again?" Farhis asked and Sybil shook her head.
"Father will pick up the energy signature. I want to avoid him knowing we're here as long as possible."
"Which isn't very long, I promise."
The pair spun to see Mozenrath looking down at them, an decidedly unpleasant look on his face.
"Father," Sybil said, keeping her voice tightly controlled. But her father's attention wasn't on her, it was on the man he'd betrothed her to.
"What is he doing here?" Mozenrath snapped, his dark eyes glaring at the young man.
Farhis didn't wait for Sybil to answer. "I'm here to help look for your son." He quickly added, "Lord Mozenrath."
"And what makes you think I need any help from the son of a street rat?" His voice was so dismissive as to be deliberately insulting.
Farhis felt every story he had ever heard about the necromancer towering close to him rush through his body as he said the next words. "You didn't seem to object to that when you offered your daughter as my wife," he shot back, his youthful bravado showing.
"You insolent little…"
"ENOUGH!" Sybil hollered over the both of them. "Enough! This is not the time nor the place for you two to have a…a cock fight!" Both men looked at her, a little shocked at the term she'd picked. "Morgan is missing! Someone has kidnapped him and you…!" She pointed at her father. "Look like death warmed over!"
He did. Mozenrath was fastidiously clean and well groomed out of habit. He always looked dark and ominously formal. But the man before Sybil was not familiar. His turban was off, the thick black curls unbrushed and a little greasy. He had no stubble, she'd never seen her father with any facial hair, but there were dark bags under his eyes and his face was yellowed.
He looked sick.
"I'm fine!" Mozenrath defended. "You two are supposed to be in Getzistan right now! Improving our relations with kingdoms so things like this don't happen!"
"I came back because Xerxes had to come and find me!" Sybil challenged. "You should have contacted me! I should have been here to help!"
"You can't do anything!" Mozenrath roared at his daughter. "I've been over that room with a fine tooth comb! I've scoured the surrounding deserts and had every mamluck on patrol! What can you do that I can't?"
"Provide a fresh pair of eyes," Farhis said smoothly.
"Stay out of this, whelp!" Mozenrath snarled. "You have no right to be here in the first place, and you shouldn't have brought him!" he snapped at Sybil, blaming her.
"He insisted. He could be of help! His parents could be of help!" she insisted, her voice almost pleading. He's hurting. He's almost frantic. I've never seen him like this before. "Father, just tell us what happened," she said and grasped his right arm, forcing him to turn and face her. "He's my brother as much as he is your son!"
Mozenrath rounded on her, shoving Sybil roughly out of the way. "Useless!" he snarled.
"Hey you can't just…" Farhis started in and felt the full force of the sorcerer's power slam against his gut, sending him flying across the room.
"Father, don't!" Sybil yelled and swarmed her magic forward, her power stopping Farhis from colliding with the marble pillars around the room. "You can't do this! You're killing yourself and it won't help Morgan!"
"You would side with him over your own father?" He redirected the magic, sending it toward her.
Sybil bared her teeth and drew hers up around herself. "I won't let you hurt yourself anymore," she said calmly and slammed her magic into his, sending the blue black fire spiraling off through the room.
Magic collided and blinding light echoed through the corners. The table went flying and the servants scattered.
Farhis winced as he lifted himself from the floor, feeling useless against the sorcery battle happening before him.
A squirming mass under his cape alerted him to the little eel's presence on his body. "Xerxes? It is Xerxes, isn't it?" he asked and the half blind creature shook its head as it watched the onslaught. Sybil was holding her own, but it was obvious her father was more powerful. She was sweating and forced to hide behind anything she could find as his magic became more threatening against her.
Farhis's mind raced through all the stories his father had told him till something clicked. "Xerxes. Where is Mozenrath's lab?" The eel looked up at him quizzically.
"Xerxes not show! Xerxes not show to you!" he insisted.
"Xerxes, please. I want to help Sybil! I want to help your mistress," he pleaded.
Xerxes seemed torn, eyes darting from Mozenrath's dark fire to Sybil's wild shocks. "Master not like…" he pressed.
"Do you think he'll like it if he kills her!" Farhis argued.
"Master not kill…" But the eel flipped up in the air and headed off down the hall. Taking the chance that he was leading and not running, Farhis followed.
Sybil ducked behind a pillar as a flame narrowly missed her head. He's not himself. He's not himself. She kept whispering inside her head as her father began gathering power again. Sybil blocked it rather effectively and redirected, letting her power gain stamina from his as she sent it hurling back to him.
Mozenrath felt it knock him back, sending scorch marks across his clothing. "I taught you much," he remarked.
"You should be proud of that fact," she accused and came forward, not giving him a chance to recover. The surges were not lethal, but they were distractingly painful, keeping Mozenrath off balance and unable to focus. She could already feel his blasts losing power, weakening. His energy was scattered and erratic, meaning his mind was also.
Sybil reined back as the area around her father smoked and sparked with released power. "Stop," she said. "I didn't want to fight you. I want to help." She came forward, extending her hands, pleading with him in posture if not in words.
Mozenrath coughed, his breath heavy and labored. He was exhausted. Sybil felt her chest tear to see him like this. Her father. Always so proud. So controlled. So powerful.
It didn't seem real.
It didn't seem possible.
Like a snake Mozenrath moved, the power screeching from him to overtake Sybil's before she could even raise her arms…
Farhis slammed the anti-magic cuffs onto Mozenrath's wrists, the charge he had released backlashing through his body, and he threw his head back as the fire twisted around him. He collapsed unconscious on the floor as the errant magic dissipated.
Sybil followed after him, though she managed to stay aware. "If he were himself I wouldn't have managed this long," she said, trying to balance herself on her hands and knees.
Farhis took her shoulders and let her lean weakly against him, not letting her push away when she protested. "If he were himself you wouldn't have needed to," he assured her. Her kept his thoughts locked up, trying to give her a sense of stability. Who could do that to their own daughter? Who could ever do that to their child? He attacked her like he was going to kill her!
Sybil tried to stand and was forced to use Farhis as a crutch. The servants were just starting to poke their heads out and get a good view of the carnage in the room. Sybil tried to straighten herself in front of them. "As of now I am acting ruler of the Land of the Black Sand," she stated, waving it off when they tried to bow. "It's only till my father is in his right mind again," she insisted. "You two, get him to his bedroom. Naomi!" she ordered, frowning with dislike at the woman who had given her father physical attention. "I want you to get him to eat. I'll bind him from leaving the bed, in his weakened state I can do that much. But starvation and sleep deprivation won't improve his temper. When he wakes make him eat. I don't care if you have to ram it down his throat."
Naomi nodded and followed the men who were carrying the unconscious sorcerer.
"How did you find those?" Sybil asked as Farhis helped move her to a couch. "Father always kept them well hidden."
Farhis grinned. "My dad used to tell me stories about the anti-magic manacles. All it took was convincing Xerxes to help." He indicated the eel who was hiding behind him, looking as though he was going to be throttled.
"Master gonna be maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad," Xerxes warned.
"Master gonna get over it," Sybil said and gently cupped the little creature. "You did good Xerxes. You helped." She petted his fin tenderly and the eel made a growling purr as it settled into her lap.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful," Farhis said, settling beside her.
"Sorcery isn't exactly your game," she answered. "But I couldn't have held out much longer." Sybil smiled at him.
"What now?" He asked, letting the smile warm him up.
"First I need to bind my father to his bed. He won't rest unless I force it on him. Then I'll leave him to Naomi. She should be able to make him eat."
"And then…"
"Then…" Sybil said. "I don't know."
***
Morgan sat up straight, his energy pouring outward frantically as he tried to become aware of his surroundings. He felt a sharp fear as nothing met his tentative reaching, no signal, no energy, no presence.
Everything was to him, smooth, flat and undefined.
As though he was standing in space.
The lack of perception terrified him. No sensory information feeding into his mind. No contrast, no vibration of air or sound.
Nothing.
"Hello?"
His voice was like a whisper in this place. It did not reverberate or resonate. It was almost as though he had not spoken.
"Please!" he called louder, standing clumsily and reaching out as he had in his toddler years, taking one step slowly at a time, waiting for something to meet his fingertips. "Is anyone here?"
He walked for what seemed like minute after minute with nothing meeting him.
Then he tripped.
I'm inside. He realized with some sense of relief.
The floor under him was cold and smooth, marble most likely. But as he crawled along it, feeling for any distinction, it was like the rest of his surroundings. No ending, no cracks between the tiles. Just one long, smooth piece of marble.
It was so different from his room at home. He could locate where he was going without much help because he knew the feeling of each object in the room.
He felt cold. Lonely and scared.
Morgan curled his legs to his chest and began to sob softly, biting his lip and wondering where he was.
"Are you frightened?"
The voice did not sound like his had. It made the correct noises in the air, it hit his ears and reverberated. It was strong and solid and there.
Without hesitation Morgan flung his energy out, searching for a presence.
It connected for the briefest moment, then the energy vanished.
"Are you frightened, little one?"
Morgan heard the voice closer and lashed out again, this time coming more in contact with his host. There was a form, male, tall, adult.
But not human.
Morgan sniffed, the salt stinging in his eyes. "I'm not scared!' he hollered, sounding remarkably like his father.
"Kidnapped, blind, taken away from your home with some strange beast holding you captive." A chuckle like dry leaves. "If you are not scared, then you are very stupid."
"You're stupid." Morgan said, frowning as his face scrunched in frustration.
"Such a charming son. Now…sit!" The energy flared and Morgan winced as it invaded his, pushing him back across the space he was in. It knocked him back, forcing him down on the floor. "Your host is soon to arrive."
Pushing Inward