Chapter Two: What's Said Is Said
Quistis snapped
finally, glaring at her younger brother, Quistis sat on her parent's bed and hissed,
"you want a story? Fine! I'll give you a story!"
Growling slightly, she began, "Once there
was a beautiful golden hair girl, who the SeeD King loved, but was a slave to her
family... Always feeding, caring, and watching her younger spoil, half-brother while
her parents went out to party the night away. The girl remained silent, never really
complaining as her dreams slowly began to die-."
Zell wailed louder, not happy with the story at
all.
"ARUGH!" Snarled the female, as she
stormed over to her brother and jerkily picked him up. Narrowing her eyes, she went
on, "but one day when brother and step mother was especially cruel to the girl, she
finally called upon the special powers King had bestowed upon the girl."
Meeting the now softly sobbing baby's eyes and
holding the boy up, she murmured, "she held him up high and yelled, 'SeeD King, SeeD
King, take this child of mine far away from me'!"
A bolt of lightning flashed and Zell wailed
even louder then ever, sending his sister of the very edge. Setting him down,
Quistis pulled a blanket over the wailing baby and hissed, "I wish the SeeD would
come and take you away from here!"
Walking towards the door, turning off the
lights, she glanced once more of her shoulder and left the room. The storm raged on
over Quistis's house. The clouds boiled. Rain lashed the leaves on the trees. Thunder
was followed by lightning.
Quistis was listening outside the door for a
moment. What she was listening to was an unnatural silence within the room. Zell had
stopped crying, so suddenly it scared her. She looked back inside the nursery. The bedside
light was out. "Zell?" she called. He did not respond.
She flicked the light switch beside the door.
Nothing happened. She jiggled it up and down several times to no effect. A board creaked.
"Zell? Are you all right? Why aren't you crying?"
She stepped nervously into the quiet room. The
light from the landing, coming through the doorway, threw unfamiliar shadows onto the
walls and across the carpet. In the lull between two thunderclaps, she thought she heard a
humming in the air. She could detect no movement at all in the crib.
"Zell," she whispered in anxiety, and
walked toward the crib with her breath drawn. Her hands were shaking like aspen leaves.
She reached out to pull the sheet back.
She recoiled. The sheet was convulsing. Weird
shapes were thrusting and bulging beneath it. She thought she glimpsed things poking out
from the edge of the sheet, things that were no part of Zell. She felt her heart thumping,
and she put her hand over her mouth, to stop herself from screaming.
Then the sheet was still again. It sank slowly
down over the mattress. Nothing moved.
She could not turn and run away and leave him.
She had to know. Whatever the horror of it, she had to know. Impulsively, she reached out
her hand and pulled the sheet back.
The crib was empty.
For a moment or an hour, she would never know
how long, she stared at the empty crib. She was not even frightened. Her mind had been
wiped clean.
And then she was frightened, by a soft, rapid
thumping on the windowpane. Her hands clenched so tightly, her fingernails scored her
skin.
A white owl was flapping insistently on the
glass. She could see the light from the landing reflected in its great, round, dark eyes,
watching her. The whiteness of its plumage was illuminated by a series of lightning
flashes that seemed continuous. Behind her, a SeeD briefly raised his head, and ducked
down again. Another did likewise. She didn't seem them. Her eyes were fixed on the
owl's eyes.
Lightning crackled and flashed again, and this
time it distracted her attention from the window by shining on the clock that stood on the
mantelpiece. She saw that the hands were at thirteen o'clock. She was staring
distractedly at the clock when she felt something nudge the back of her legs. She glanced
down. The crib was moving across the carpet on scaly legs like a lizard's, with
talons for toes, one leg at each corner of the crib. Sarah's lips parted, but she
made no sound.
Behind her, something snickered. She spun
around and saw it duck down again behind the chest of drawers. Shadows were scuttling
across the walls. SeeDs were prancing and bobbing behind her. Quistis was watching the
chest of drawers. Like the crib, it had a scaly, clawed foot at each corner, and it was
dancing.
She wheeled around, mouth open, hands clenched,
and saw the SeeDs cavorting. They ducked away into the shadows, to evade her eyes. She
looked for something that would serve as a weapon. In the corner of the nursery was an old
broom. She took it and advanced upon the SeeDs. "Go away. Go away," she
whimpered, trying to sweep them up, but the handle of the broom twisted in her hands and
slithered out of her grasp.
The storm wind rose to a pitch. Lightning made
daylight in the room, and scared faces suddenly began to vanish into cupboards, drawers,
or down the cracks between floorboards. As the thunder boomed and the wind shook the
curtains, a blast of air blew the window open. Between the fluttering curtains the white
owl entered.
Quistis wrapped her arms around her face, and
screamed, and screamed again. She was petrified that the flapping owl would brush across
her. She thought she would die if it did.
She felt the wind blowing her hair around, but
the flapping had ceased. Between her fingers she peeked out, to see where the bird was
perched. Perhaps it had flown out again.
A prolonged crackling of lightning was throwing
a giant shadow on the wall facing the window. It was the shadow of a human figure.
Quistis spun around. Silhouetted against the
stormy sky was a man. He wore a cloak, which swirled in the wind. She could see that his
hair was shoulder-length and blond. Something glinted about his neck. More than that she
could not see in the dim light.
She said, "Uh . . .," and cleared her
throat. "Who are you?"
"Don't you know?" The man's
voice was calm, almost kindly.
Lightning traced the veins of the sky and lit
up his face. He was not smiling, as one might smile on greeting a stranger, nor was his
expression fierce. His eyes were fixed upon Quistis's with an intensity she found
compelling. When he took a step toward her, into the light shining from the doorway, she
did not retreat. If his eyes had not hypnotized her, the golden chain around his neck
might have. A cross-like ornament hung from it, upon his chest. His shirt was
navy-colored, open at the front,
loose-sleeved, with silken cuffs at the wrist. Over it he wore a tight, grey waistcoat. He
was shod in black boots, over gray tights, and on his hands were black gloves. In one of
them he held the jeweled knob of a curious cane with a fishtail shape at the end.
"I . . .," Quistis answered. "I
. . ."
The humming that she had thought she heard in
the air was now quite distinct, and musical. The stranger smiled at her hesitancy. He was
certainly handsome. She had not expected that. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper.
"You're . . . him, aren't
you?" You're the King of the SeeD."
He bowed. "Seifer."
She resisted the ridiculous impulse to return a
curtsy.
"I have saved you," he said. "I
have liberated you from those bonds that distressed you and frightened you. You're
free now, Quistis."
"Oh, no. I don't want to be
free," she answered. "I mean, I do, but – I want my little brother back.
Please." She gave him a tiny smile. "If it's all the same to you."
Seifer folded his hands on the top of his cane.
"What's said is said."
"But I didn't mean it," Quistis
replied quickly.
"Didn't you, now?"
"Oh, please. Where is he?"
Seifer chuckled. "You know very well where
he is."
"Please bring him, back, please." She
heard herself speaking in a small voice. "Please!"
"Quistis . . ." Seifer frowned, and
shook his head. His expression was all concern for her. "Go back to your room. Read
your books. Put on your costumes. That is your real life. Forget about the baby."
"No, I can't."
For a moment, they regarded each other,
adversaries trying to size each other up at the outset of a long contest. Thunder rumbled.
Then Seifer raised his left arm, and made a
large gesture with his hand. Quistis looked around, thinking that he was summoning
assistance. When she faced him again, a glowing crystal had appeared in his hand.
"I've brought you a gift,
Quistis," he said, holding it out to her.
She paused. She could not trust him. "What
is it?"
"A crystal, nothing more. Except that if
you look into it . . . it will show you your dreams."
Quistis's lips parted involuntarily. With
a teasing smile, Seifer watched her face, while he spun the shining crystal around in his
fingers. Her hand started to reach out for it. He smiled a little more, and withdrew the
crystal from her.
Raising the cane with his other hand, he told
her, "But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl, one who takes care of a screaming
baby." His voice was quieter now, and huskier. "Do you want it, Quistis?"
He held it out toward her again.
This time her hands remained by her sides, and
she made no answer. Her eyes were fixed on the dancing, flashing glints of the crystal. To
see her own dreams – what wouldn't she give for that?
"Then forget the child," Seifer said
firmly.
While Quistis hesitated, another bolt of
thunder and lightning illuminated the sky behind the SeeD King.
She was torn. The gift was not only seductive,
it was also the choice of someone who understood her, someone who cared about the secret
places of her imagination and knew how infinitely much more they meant to her than
anything else. In return, she would have to trade her responsibility for an offensively
spoiled child, who made endless demands on upon her and never showed the least sign of
gratitude; who was, after all, only her half brother. The crystal was spinning, glowing.
She willed her eyes to close. From behind shut
eyelids, she heard a voice answering. It was her own voice, but it seemed to be a memory.
"I – I can't. It isn't that I don't appreciate what you're
trying to do for me . . . but I want my baby brother back. He must be so scared . .
." She opened her eyes again.
Seifer snorted, and tossed his mane of blond
hair. He had lost patience with the girl. With a wave of his hand, he extinguished the
crystal. With another wave, he plucked a live snake from the air. He held it with a
straight arm in front of him, so that it writhed and hissed near Quistis's face. Then
he threw it at her. "Don't defy me," he warned her.
It was wrapped around her neck. She clutched
desperately at the thing, and found that it was now a silk scarf. She yelled, dropped it
and jumped away. When it hit the floor it shattered into a number of horribly ugly little
SeeDs, who scuttled, snickering, to the corners of the room. Other SeeDs crept from the
shadows, or popped out from their hiding places, and stood, all around the room, brazen
now, watching to see what their king would do to her next.
"You are no match for me, Quistis."
Seifer sounded impatient. "Let the child alone. Take my gift. I will not offer it to
you again."
Before he could produce the crystal, Quistis
told him, "No." She paused. "Thank you all the same, but I can't do
what you want. Can't you see that? I must have my brother back."
"You will never find him."
"Ah," Quistis said, and took a deep
breath. "Then . . . there is a place to look."
Just for a moment, Seifer's face flinched.
Quistis saw it, the merest trace of fear fleeting across his eyes. Was it possible? His
nostrils tightened, he gripped his cane, and appeared to hesitate slightly before
answering her. She could not quite believe it,
but the suspicion that the SeeD King could be afraid of her, even if only momentarily, was
encouraging.
"Yes," he said. "There is a
place."
And now, with a really hammy gesture straight
out of vaudeville, he twirled his hand and pointed through the window.
"There!"
Lightning and thunder, right on cue,
she thought. She moved past him and stared into the night. On a distant hill, brilliant in
the flashes, she saw a castle. She leaned on the windowsill, trying to see more clearly.
There were towers with turrets, massive walls, spires and domes, a portcullis and
drawbridge. The whole edifice was built on top of a sharply rising mound. Around it the
lightning flickered and forked like snakes' tongues. Beyond was blackness.
From just behind her shoulder, Seifer murmured.
"Do you still want to look for him?"
"Yes." She swallowed. "Is that .
. ." She remembered the words. " . . . the castle beyond the SeeD Garden?"
Seifer did not answer at once, and she turned
around. He was still there, watching her intensely, but they were no longer in the house.
They stood facing each other on a windswept hilltop. Between them and the hill on which
the castle stood was a broad valley. In the darkness she could not tell what was down
there.
She turned again. The wind blew her hair over
her face. Brushing it back, she took one timid step forward.
Seifer's voice came from behind her.
"Turn back, Quistis. Turn back, before it is too late."
"I can't. Oh, I can't.
Don't you understand that?" She shook her head slowly, gazing at the distant
castle, and to herself, quietly, repeated, "I can't."
"What a pity." Seifer's voice
was low, and gentle, as though he really meant it.
She was looking at the castle. It seemed to be
a long way off, but not impossibly far to travel. It depended on what she would encounter
in the valley, how easily it could be crossed. Was the darkness down there perpetual?
"It doesn't look that far," she said, and heard in her voice the effort she
was making to sound brave.
Seifer was at her elbow now. He looked at her,
with a smile that was icy. "It's farther than you think." Pointing at a
tree, he added, "And the time is shorter."
Quistis saw that an antique wooden clock had
appeared in the tree, as though growing from a branch. On it were marked the hours to
thirteen, as on the nursery clock in the lightning.
"You have thirteen hours to unriddle the
Labyrinth," Seifer told her, "before your baby brother becomes one of us."
"Us?"
Seifer nodded. "Forever."
Magic still hummed in the air. Quistis was
standing still, hair tossing in the wind, looking out across the valley toward the castle.
After a while, she said, "Tell me where I start."
She waited for an answer, and finally she heard
him say, "A pity."
"What?" She turned her head to look
up at him, but he was not there. She spun all around. He had vanished. She was alone in
the night, on a windswept hilltop. She looked across again at the castle. The
storm was passing away. Blades of clouds sliced across the moon. She thought she
glimpsed the figure of an owl, high above, wings spread wide on the air, as he flew
steadily away from her.
She took another step forward, down the
hillside. But there was no ground beneath her feet. She began to fall.
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Tee hee, Chapter 5 of Blue Magic should be done with Wenesday, but here is some fun for
ya'll.
And a choice:
Quall or Quiefer?