A/N Here you guys go! This isa very important chapter, so PLEASE REVIEW to tell me what you think. Okay? Good! It is also the longest one yet,just so you know.I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter Thirteen: Buried

"Faster!" Blaine shouted, slapping at her horse with the loose ends of her reins. She could see Merric and Darren fleeing in front of her, and she urged her horse to keep pace. New Haven was within sight—Within sight!—all she had to do was make it there.

But she could hear the horse behind her, hear its hooves pounding just as hard and just as fast into the ground behind her. Possibly gaining?

"Open the gates!" she screamed as loud as she could, praying they would hear her, figuring they wouldn't. And figuring on that, she grabbed the bow of her back, and the arrows. Since the attack at Hollyrose, all of them had taken to strapping on as many weapons as they could carry. She herself was packing an impressive number herself.

About three miles outside of the gates to New Haven, in the coverage of trees when her bottle green eyes had met a pair of brown ones. She hadn't thought about the eyes, hadn't allowed herself to look at them. She had squeezed them shut tight, shouted as loud as she could, and spurred her horse in the side.

Now here she was, racing as fast as her horse would carry her into New Haven. The packhorse had been left far behind, unable to keep up with the weight on it's back. If she weren't careful, she wouldn't be able to keep up. None of them would.

The horses were tired. She had been getting the spooks lately. Though she hadn't seen any more of the men since Merric's home, she could practically feel them, feel their intent aimed at her, feel it crawling along her skin like a sickness. And she had hated it.

All she wanted was to make it stop, make it go away. And the only way to do that was to find that spell. So she had pushed, and pushed hard. On her insistence they had been rising before the sun and stopping after it had disappeared into the horizon. The horses were tired, the riders were tired; everyone was plain out exhausted.

She prayed they would make the final stretch.

But she pulled out the bow, pulled out the arrow, because she realized it was near to impossible. With the rushing up vision of the refugee camp in front of her, she maneuvered in her seat, turning herself onto the saddle so she was no longer sitting astride but nearly sidesaddle, until she was able to turn at the waist and face the man behind her.

Focus, she told herself, willing herself to ignore the jostling of the horse, the bumpiness of the ride, the fact that at any second she could lose her seating and fall to her death. She evened her breathing, closed her eyes and calmed her mind, then opened them in one slow movement.

There was a pattern in everything, she told herself, all she had to do was find it, find the moment when she could shoot the arrow she had knocked and it would hit. Up. Up. Down. Up. Up. Down. Up. Up. Down.

There.

She loosed her arrow, heard the string ping, and lost the sight of it as the gates of New Haven closed behind her. Safe.

Twisting, she let her legs fall, let her body fall forward until she was clasping the neck of the horse, pulled it to a stop, and jumped from the horse, her feet hitting the ground at a run.

She could hear the excited chatter about her, the call of commands, the whispers, the shouts, but she ignored them all. She ignored the call to arms, the astonished reply's that the man was gone. One thing was in her mind, one thing only. Find the spell.

"That was a nice shot, Lady. Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" a grinning face was all she saw before she scowled, darkly, and stepped around him, taking a scan of the buildings. Which one would have the library, she wondered.

Might as well search them all.

Grumbling, she started heading up towards the buildings when she felt a hand grip her arm forcefully and pull her around. She tried to tug away, but the hand squeezed hard. She yelped. Looking up into Merric's face she snarled. Was he still in a bad mood from whatever had happened nearly a week ago? She made ready to spew out obscene curses when Merric grabbed her chin and forced her to look at the knights standing speechless in front of her.

"Excuse me for my squire's behavior. She is a little out of sorts," Merric's voice was tight and hard. "Give your respects to the knights, Princess."

This time she wrenched away, both her chin and her arm. She gave a hasty curtsey then rounded on Merric. "I'm sorry, Peasant, for my stupidity. Obviously I shouldn't be hurrying along my search. No, obviously not. We should take as long as possible. Because that'll really help. Yes, let's all stand out here, in the middle of broad daylight and chit-chat. Where's the tea and the biscuits and the goddamned sugar?" she screamed.

"I don't have time for this! Do you not understand the situation? Huh? Do you not realize the fact that at any freakin' second ninja's might come jumping over the wall to kill me? There's no FBI or CIA! There's no secret service even though the Goddamned President of the United Freakin' States gets one, which he hardly deserves! There aren't even any freakin' cops! I have to do this myself! No one is there to do it for me! So help me or get out of my way!"

With the shouted words echoing off the walls of the fort, Blaine pushed Merric, hard enough to force him a step back, then stomped off. Her guess was that the library would be in the biggest building. So she made for it.

She could hear people following her, but she didn't care. She had to get to the spell. She had to get to it. That would explain everything, fix everything. She just needed to get to it. Everything would be put to rights if she could just get her hands on it.

Wrenching open the door to the wooden building, she stepped in and made towards the nearest door. Opening it she found an office. She cursed, closed it, and moved to the next. This one was a weapon's room. She didn't have time for curses now.

Running, she checked behind every door in the building and didn't find her library, or her book. No big deal, she told herself, as she stalked to the front door, must be in a different building. There were plenty, she could find it. She had to.

She had to, Blaine told herself as she stepped out into the light, or the pressure in her chest would never leave, the tears in her throat would never dissolve. She had to find it, she had to.

"Blaine, princess, you're mumbling to yourself. And you're shaking," Darren, his warm arms closed around her pulled her into his chest. She wanted the comfort, needed it. But she needed that book more.

"Where's the library? Where's the library? I can't find it. Darren, I can't find it. It has to be here. The book has to be here. I can't… I can't go back out there. They'll get me. Where is it? Where is it?"

"This way," a gentle voice spoke, the only sound. If the panic had receded just the slightest from her brain she would have realized that the entire camp had stopped its movement to watch her.

A hand gripped Blaine's arm, pulled her gently into a building—the same one?— opened a door into an office, pointed at the desk. Books, piles and piles of books on the desk. How had she missed them?

She pawed through them, her hands shaking, clawing and clawing, growing frantic as she got closer and closer to the bottom. Then, like the heaven's opened and God's light shown down, she saw it.

The Legend of the Books of Three.

"It's here," she whispered, felt tears of utter relief spilling down her cheeks. She looked up at Darren through watery eyes. "I found it!"

Pushing the books out of the way, Blaine sat at the desk in the strange office and promptly began reading.

"Why is that fickle little brat locked in my office?" Alanna demanded, hands squarely on her slim hips, violet eyes blazing with barely restrained temper. Darren, who wasn't normally susceptible to intimidation, felt his insides shake. This woman, this short, stocky woman with fire for hair and in her eyes, made him want to run back into the office and use Blaine as his shield.

But Blaine had stopped responding to anything. She just sat, and read, her eyes moving sluggishly across the page. And when she had lifted her hand to turn it, it had been so slow, like moving through mud. It had scared him, but he couldn't pull her away. Today had been a close call. He wanted her to find that spell nearly as badly as she wanted to herself.

"Look, can we find a place to sit down and I can explain?" Darren pleaded with the woman, then with the other nobles standing behind her. As a second thought, he bowed respectfully. Still no one said anything.

Darren met Merric's eyes. The man was standing at the entrance to the building, leaning against he doorjamb, arms crossed sullenly across his chest. His face was set in a blank mask, but his eyes were scowling. Darren wanted to scowl too.

Why wasn't he helping at all? Didn't he understand the direness of the situation? Darren had more then once wanted to grab the knight by his throat and give him a good shake. The man was being a complete dunderhead, snapping at Blaine all the time, making her work every night when they stopped to rest the horses.

Even though they were all exhausted by that time of night and could have spread the chores out between the three of them to make it easier, Merric had ordered Blaine to do it all, saying because she was the squire, she should have the honors. Darren knew, as well as Blaine did, that Merric was just trying to be nasty, and he was succeeding.

Now they were close to being in real trouble and he was just going to step back and let it happen? Darren was fast losing respect the knight had earned long ago.

Laughter suddenly filled the silence as an apparently deliriously happy couple came through the door, giving Merric a happy pat on the back. However, the girl picked up immediately on the tension in the room.

"What's going on? Alanna? Kel? Neal?" Lady Knight Keladry and Sir Nealan were here? Darren searched the crowd of faces and saw the two. Hope bloomed. Maybe Sir Merric didn't want to help him, but those two surely would.

"Some little brat came screaming in, speaking gibberish as far as I could tell, then locked herself in my room!" Alanna fumed, not turning around the face the newcomers, instead, watching Darren closely.

"She's not a brat! Begging your pardon, my Lady. But that was Princess Blaine Marissa De Veinto of Tusaine, daughter of King Henrick and Queen Thesila, brother to Prince Terry, and squire to Sir Knight Merric of Hollyrose," Darren finished in his most majestic voice, puffing out his chest.

"So? That gives her to right to steal my desk?" Darren nearly sighed. Did this woman have no sense when she was angry? But Darren supposed he could forgive. Blaine had been acting hysterically since the chase had begun with her attacker.

"No, it does not. But the reason why she ran in there does. If we could please find a place to sit, I will explain what has been happening with Blaine all the way back to the beginning of the attacks," Darren bowed again, then looked up with pleading eyes. Here, Nealan pushed through the crowds to the front.

"Attacks? What sort of attacks? What's going on? Is the Princess all right?" Darren gave him a grateful bow then motioned for a chair. Keladry stepped out of the crowd also and lead them into a room set aside for official meetings. Darren was glad to see that there were enough chairs for all of them.

Darren was given the seat at the very end, the one reserved for messengers, while Keladry took the head of the table. Darren watched the others file in.

There was Sir Nealan, and Claire! He hadn't seen her before. But he hadn't really been looking. Then there came the red-haired lady followed by a short blonde knight evidence of his bearing, a tall soldier who looked similar to Sir Nealan, the two new comers, and three other men, which he assumed to be refugees, as they didn't have the presence of nobles. And then, finally, Merric sauntered in.

"Alright, now, Darren, tell us about these attacks—"

"And why she's still in my office!"

"Alright, it started… well, almost a year to the day ago. Funny, I hadn't realized we'd been in Tortall that long," Darren stopped to figure and it was true. They really had been in Tortall for almost a year exactly.

"The reasons, Darren," a voice, the woman with the violet eyes.

"Right. The first attack came when we crossed the border into Tortall…" Darren proceeded to tell them of all the attacks leading up to that point.

As the last page in the book turned, Blaine blinked her eyes for the first time in nearly three hours. Then she hissed when they stung like mad. Reaching up she began rubbing at her eyes and made a very curious discovery. She couldn't remember anything she read.

No, that wasn't true. She knew she remembered it, she could feel it there, in her brain. She just couldn't seem to access the information. Maybe she was just tired, she thought, reaching down and placing her hands over the book possessively.

But a voice in her head, one that sounded astonishingly like Gainel's, was telling her that when she needed the information it would come to her. Well, that's handy, she thought. But it left her back at square one.

With a book, a head full of spells she couldn't access, and a man that went to any lengths, it appeared, to kill her. And not a step further in the mission. This whole thing seemed like a wild goose chase to her. She was getting nowhere, doing nothing.

Why had he ever picked her?

Back then, when she had been in between, he should have let her go. Instead of offering her a mission, he should have just let her spirit die. Instead of offering her a second chance, which she was obviously failing miserably at using, he should have let her spirit drift into the beyond.

It would be better then just sitting here, doing nothing, with a book in her hands that she couldn't even remember. And what was it he had said anyway? What was the actual mission? She knew he had told her, but then the whole Death Eye men situation had showed up and she had forgotten the rest, had focused on them. And then there was the whole Merric/Chris situation, not the mention the shadow in said man's eyes.

She guessed that between all that she had lost the real goal, the real mission. And now, now she couldn't even remember what it was.

"Once you are well on your way to becoming a knight, I will have a mission for you to fix a mistake made by a foolish young mage who tried to aspire to great heights, and instead managed to put the entire world in danger. Are you up to it?" the voice, that sounded so much like Gainel, whispered in her ear. That had been her mission. Wait…

Foolish mage?

She felt a crackling in her brain before words appeared in her mind, written in a long scrawling hand.

The origin of these Books of Three is said to be of a young mage. A mage, who in fact, has thus far, been surpassed by no one. The mage created the spells inside the books, including the hidden one.

The mage, who is said the greatest and strongest mage of all times, was greatly loved by his king, and used often in battles and the like. He was commissioned by the king to create the three books and fill them with spells that would make the King unstoppable. And because the mage was loyal, he did as he was told.

The mage traveled the country for many years, experimenting and creating the spells that are inside the three books. It is said, however, that after completing the books and beginning the return journey to his king, he was visited in his dreams by a vision sent by the Gods. A vision that showed him many greatly terrible things that his spells would cause.

Realizing what he had done, the mage decided he had to destroy the books so the spells could never be used for evil, as evil hands would intend if they gained possession. However, when the time came to destroy the books, the mage could not. He had poured his life and his soul into the books and could not bring himself to destroy them. Instead, he separated the books and hid them where he believed no one would ever be able to find them.

When he returned to the king empty handed, the king, who had never really loved the mage, only the power the mage could bring him, had the mage killed. It was said that because of the great power the mage exuded and the great courage he showed by hiding the books and facing his king anyways, he was turned into a god and watches over the books from the heavens, making sure they remain hidden and out of evil hands.

The Books of Three! That had been the mage's foolish mistake. Creating the books of three. So, she was supposed to un-create them? That didn't make sense. How was she supposed to do that? No!

Like a light switch being flicked on she realized, his foolish mistake hadn't been creating the books. If he hadn't created them someone else would have, someone else who might not have been strong enough to hide them. No, his mistake had been in not destroying them.

Her mission was to find and destroy the Books of Three? Yes, that had to be it. That was the only thing that made perfect sense. She had to find and destroy the Books of Three. Well, that didn't seem to hard, she reasoned, relaxing back in the chair, the book now in her lap.

But that still left the question of the Death Eye men. Gainel had… what had he said? He had… he had asked how she had liked her first taste of the mission. Of course, he had been referring back to the attack on the boat. The attack by the men with the Death Eyes. What did the men with the Death Eyes have to do with the mission?

Again, she felt the crackling in her brain and saw the words before her eyes.

In the first book, the Book of Creation, are spells that center on creating things, such as water out of thin air, or fire. It is also said, that the true reason that power hungry people seek this book is for the Spell of Creation. It is said that this spell allows the mage to take the materials around him—be it rocks, water, sand, plants, even fog—and create a person from it. Granted, the person would not have feelings or be able to make it's own decision. It is created for the sole purpose of carrying out its creators will. It is also said, but never confirmed, that if one were to look into the creations eyes, it would see a vision of its own death.

So… so the men that attacked her had been from a spell in the Book of Creation, part of the Books of Three. But what did that mean? What could that possibly have to do with the mission? Then she knew. She gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth as she jumped to a standing position, the book falling open at her feet.

Some one had found one of the Books of Three. Someone was looking for the Books of Three. Someone who had an evil intent.

"Oh God, Oh GOD! I'm too late! I'm too late!" She started to pace, running her hands over her face. No, no she wasn't! She wasn't too late. He had only found one book, just one! If she started now, started looking right now, she might beat him to the punch. Might find one of the books before he did.

And the books, though very useful separately, were more useful if they were together. So if she had one, just one, the set wouldn't be complete. She had to find one.

But where? Where the hell could they possibly be? And how could she possibly find them? It wasn't like she had the Internet, or even a speedy means of transportation. It would take years for her to search the entire country for just one book. No, it would take lifetimes! She didn't have lifetimes! She had been lucky enough to get two, now she needed to ask for even more? That was impossible! This quest was impossible!

Thoroughly deflated and defeated, Blaine slumped back into the chair she had been sitting in, rested her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands, and looked down at the floor. What she saw gave her hope.

"So… let me get this straight," Lady Knight Alanna, Darren knew who she was now, said again. Of course he knew who she was. She had only been going over and over and over again all the attacks that he knew about that had happened to Blaine for over three hours now. He didn't know why she kept asking; there was nothing new to tell.

"Yes?" he asked, clenching his jaw in frustration. It's not like she'd be able to pinpoint who it was. It was most likely someone from Tusaine, and as Tortall and Tusaine weren't on exactly speaking terms there was no way she'd be able to tell who it was. So this, he thought, was a waste of time he could be using to help Blaine find the spell.

"You were attacked on the boat? And the Princess said she saw a vision of her death by drowning in water?" Darren nearly rolled his eyes. Instead he just nodded.

"Then there was an attack in the garden and the Princess says the vision was of vines and spiders killing her?" Again Darren nodded.

"And the last attack was in the woods and she had a vision of being killed by a tree? A tree that walked, ran, and stalked her?"

"Yes, yes and more yes! Why do you keep me here? I could be helping her instead of answering the same questions over and over again! This is pointless, aggravating and—"

"I need maps!" Blaine stormed into the room, the door slamming open wide behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair wild. She was breathing hard, as if she had just ran a mile. "I said I need maps!"

The roomful of people chose instead to stare at her. She felt anger bubble and stepped further into the room. "I don't have time for you to sit and stare at me like a bunch of mindless animals I need maps! God, why couldn't you have invented the high-speed Internet yet?" she tipped her head back to look at the ceiling and ran a hand through her hair. "You're slower then freakin' dialup! Where are my maps!"

"I'm sorry Princess, what kind of maps?" Blaine zeroed in on Kel and wanted to sing praises. Finally, someone was listening and doing something. She wanted to dance with delight. Until the question registered.

"Genius! We have a genius on our hands. What luck," her voice was darkly sarcastic as she began to pace, clutching at the book in her hand. "Maps of Tortall! And a map of this area! Mapquest! That's what I need right now. Ten seconds flat! That's how long it would take me to get my maps if I had Mapquest. Ten seconds. What are you doing just standing there? I need those maps!"

Darren blinked, thoroughly shocked at the sight he saw standing in front of him. She looked like a wild woman with her hair all disarrayed and her eyes filled with blood. He was surprised the knights in the room with him didn't jump on her and restrain her. She was practically foaming at the mouth.

Instead, Lady Knight Keladry rose and slowly led Blaine out of the room, the door closing softly behind them. The room was oddly silent for several seconds.

"God she was beautiful."

Darren swiveled in his chair, trying to see which person had said that. Then realized it wouldn't be that hard as everyone else was staring at him, including the woman he had walked in with. Darren gave him a careful glance.

He was tall; Darren remembered that from when he had first walked into the building. He had dark hair and very enchanting eyes. Eyes that looked extremely dreamy and not at all focused on the room or the people gawking at him.

"Excuse me?" this from the woman he was with. She had long thick brown hair and beautiful smoky gray eyes that were smoldering just now.

"Did you see it Alanna? Did you see they way she was glowing? Just the faintest hint of gold, shimmering around her. Did you see it?"

"No, Numair, I didn't. Guess I'm still too angry about her stealing my office," Alanna answered, but Darren didn't think she looked all that angry anymore. In fact, she looked puzzled now, as if she couldn't figure out what the Princess had wanted maps for.

"I'm sorry, excuse me, but who exactly are you? And why would it be you are ogling the Princess?" Darren asked in his most prim voice, trying to be insulting and commanding at the same time. The man took no offense. In fact, he laughed.

"No, I'm sorry I forget myself sometimes. I'm Numair, the Black Mage. I came to New Haven to lift the big rocks from under the grounds around here to fortify the walls, like I did for the first camp. It was by sheer luck that I got to see that vision. Tell me, that gold light, was that her Gift?"

"Princess Blaine doesn't have the Gift," Darren said, then stood, bowed, and went to find her. He was going to convince her to rest, and finish with whatever she was doing with the maps tomorrow.

"Must be a spell then. But Mithros, she was beautiful."

Yes, yes! This was it! It was all falling into place. Blaine did a little dance as she compared the maps once again. It all made perfect sense! Oh the strange ways fate works. Keladry wanting to bring the books here, and then Lady Knight Alanna bringing the one that Blaine needed the most.

That way she was forced to come here, forced to read the book. And to find the maps at the back of it. Maps that were the supposed whereabouts of the Books of Three. And as luck would have it, one of them was here.

Buried in the hardest of earth.

Here was the hardest of earth. She had asked, quite forcefully, what the soil was like around the area. And she had gotten her answer. Terrible. She couldn't have been happier.

The man she had asked, she didn't know who, it was late and she hadn't bothered to stop and ask his name. The man had told her that the ground appeared to be good, on the top. But a few feet down she'd find rocks. Big rocks. Hard rocks. Under that, no one knew because no one had found a way to get under them.

Buried in the hardest of earth.

What was harder then rock? And rock was part of earth. It made sense! The book was here, buried under the rocks by a spell, no doubt. And no one had been able to find them because no one could get to them through the rocks.

But those rocks hadn't met Blaine just yet! She's chip her way through them if it took her years! She had to get to that book. She would get that book. Had to get to it before any one else! It was her duty, her obligation.

Her mission.

Swinging a shovel and pick axe over her shoulder and wishing they had invented dynamite already, Blaine grabbed the book, the maps and a lantern and headed out into the night, prepared to dig for all she was worth.