A/N: Short chapter, I'm sorry. I've just finished my first week of Uni lectures, which take up much more time than I thought they would.

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The Autumn Assignment

Chapter 22: Hunter Green

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"It won't talk to me." The book lay on the table between them, innocently silent and blank. The pages had none of the yellowing signs of age normally seen on such tomes- it could have been crafted the previous day. And yet it was old, older than Daine could begin to understand, and it was hardly innocent.

It had been blank since it had been yelled at- not broken, not ciphered, simply absent of information. It refused; the word was human in a way that the book was not, but that was what it seemed to do. If it had been a child it could have been sulking. Daine refused on plain common sense to believe that a book was capable of such a thing, but even she had to admit there was something sullen in the book's silence.

She covered her smile with a hand at Numair's comment, and idly opened the cover. "Did you hurt its feelings? Maybe you should apologise to it!"

"That would serve no academic purpose. It's a book. And it's not funny!" He said, catching sight of her smile. He glanced at the book, which had slammed its own cover shut with petulant violence, and a smile involuntarily played across his own lips. "Well... maybe it is a little amusing." He picked up the book gingerly, as if expecting it to snap at his fingers. "Alright then Book, I'm sorry for throwing you across the room and yelling at you. I hope you can search deep into the depths of your... bibliography... and forgive me."

He jumped as the book spun in his grip, flew from his hand, landed in front of Daine and opened. Instantly, black ink began scrawling across the page.

"It says... 'Don't be sarcastic.'" Daine read. Her mouth twitched again. "I think I'm starting to like this book!"

"Very funny." Numair said drily, shaking his hand. "Tell it that if it doesn't stop messing about, I'll give it something to really sulk about!"

"I think it can hear..." Daine started, and then gave up. "Book, I ordered you to reveal your secrets. My order has not been...um..."

"Revoked." The mage offered.

"Thank you. My order has not been revoked. I want you to tell me..." she hesitated again, wondering if she was doing the right thing. What the book knew might be dangerous: too dangerous for mortals to know, or it might be false, or even deliberately misleading. If only her blood could open it then it might even belong to the Gods- and they punished those who stole their knowledge most severly.

It's a bit late for thinking like that, she told herself. She wondered fleetingly if Numair had thought of this- if that was the real reason why he had been so averse to her casting the blood spell. She glanced at him uneasily.

He looked back, and for a split second she saw her own fear reflected in the depths of his eyes. But where her emotions were vague and unfounded, his seemed tempered with awareness and certainty; his eyes burned with death and pity and love and fear. He blinked and looked away, and it was gone.

"You hide so much from me," She said quietly. Before he could answer, she looked down at the book and finished the command.

"Book, I want to know about the barrier, and the immortals."

The book had erased the previous sentence and begun writing again, this time neatly and concisely. "It worked!" She began reading out loud:

The immortals were created during a period of high ambient magic. There must be balance in all things; the amount of magic in the Mortal Realm was too high. To counter this, the gods created beings that were both magical in themselves, and capable of using the magic around them. This refined and reduced the magic in the realm. The immortals crossed all the realms without hindrance, storing magic in the Mortal Realms and releasing it in their homes in the Realm of the Gods.

This continued for centuries, while the human race was still young. As each new human was born, the Gods decided whether or not to give them a portion of the ambient magic- this is how it became known as a Gift. Gradually, the amount of magic in the realms became less. The immortals realised this as their own magic, and their dominance of the realms, began to die.

They believed the mortals were stealing their magic, and therefore decided that the mortals must be removed to restore their power.

Other immortals remembered that they were created to protect the realms rather than destroy them, and fearing the gods, decided to oppose the ones who sought power.

This is one of the things that triggered the first war between the realms. The conclusion of that was the creation of the barriers between the realms. This trapped the magic on either side of the barrier, meaning that the Gift could no longer be bestowed, it became a hereditary trait. The ambient magic in the Realm of the Gods, however, was being used by the immortals. It began to decrease.

This meant that the barrier became imbalanced- the pressure of the magic on one side was much less than that on the other. It started warping and weakening.

"So... what?" Daine asked, looking up from the book, "That's why the Immortals are protecting the barrier?"

"It seems like that." Numair stared blankly at the ceiling, tapping his fingers together absently. "When Ozorne deliberately weakened parts of the barrier, it was already weaker than it had been before. I wondered how he managed it on his own. He didn't seem capable of it..."

"And the second barrier keeps back the Immortals who tried to kill the mages." Daine finished. "So there must be another imbalance between wherever they are, and the Immortal realms. All the allied Immortals are trying to keep the barrier standing, while the ones who don't care are running riot." She rested her head in her hands and sighed. "I don't see why it was such a big secret! It makes my head hurt. Secrets and... plans and plots and...secrets..."

Numair blinked and looked around. Daine's usually clear voice had faded to a murmur as she leaned against the table, clutching her head in her hands. Her knuckles shaded white where she'd knotted her hands into her hair, contrasting with the sudden flush of her face.

"What's wrong?"

Daine heard the panic in his voice, as if from a long way away, and answered him through gritted teeth: "Don't- worry- it'll- go- away-soon." She shut her eyes tighter and willed the nausea to go away, ignoring the darting pain in her head and breathing as steadily as she could.

It wasn't until the darkness filled with copper light that she realised she'd automatically started meditating, and had retreated to her centre. Here, there was no pain, no sickness, just herself and the comforting glow of her magic. She drifted aimlessly for a moment, looking without really seeing, until something odd caught her attention. In the amber glow was a dart of green, almost hidden near the glowing core of light. She frowned and followed it.

The closer she got to it, the smaller it seemed to get, as if it were automatically hiding from her. Rather than chasing it around, she waited for it to stop shrinking away, turning away and looking out of the corner of her eyes.

There! A small thread of dark green, almost black against the copper, clung to the core of light. Tiny dark fibres had broken through the glasslike wall, and were buried in the light, like a root burying itself in soil. Daine wondered if she should try and rip it out, and then decided that was a bad idea- it could be a trap, or a hedge-witch curse, or anything.

And it wasn't like it was doing anything at the moment. It just stayed there, hardly moving in this world of light and motion; its only action had been to hide from her.

Daine mentally shrugged and pulled herself out of the meditation. To her relief, the sickness and headache had nearly gone. She was vaguely aware that Numair was sitting next to her, that his arm was protectively around her, and willed herself once again to defeat whatever sickness the green light had given her. She pushed back the last of the nausea and sighed, knowing the headache was simply her body demanding payment for the mental effort this had taken.

She opened her eyes, and for a confused moment thought she was still meditating. Bright copper and dark green light stretched in front of her eyes for a second. She squinted at it, blinked, and it vanished.

"I think I need to see a healer." She told the air.

"I agree." Said Numair, his voice a mixture of relief and worry.