My thanks to everyone who commented (thanks at the bottom) – you lit up my Christmas more truly than the house with its thousands of lights across the road. Thank you; you have my eternal gratitude.
If you want any back parts, you can email me, (kiananw@hotmail.com) or hunt through the archives :-) Anything you have to say would be adored, pored over, delighted in and feverishly worshipped. It also helps me write faster :-)
Hanging On Part Nine
Andrea woke slowly.
She forced herself to keep still as sounds and scents drifted towards her.
"Master, are you sure it is the one?" It was the cold woman, the one who had knocked her out. "It looks so...fragile."
She could smell smoke, she realised, and there was a prickling warmth along one side that meant she was close to a fire. Her other side was bitterly cold and she opened her eyes into a slit, cautiously. She could see her gilt hair trailing along the ground, like a trail of spilled gold, tangled with dirt and thin grass.
And...
Mithros save her, what on earth was *that*?
It shone in the firelight with a soft pink iridescence, like the inside of a seashell. Scales pearled its lean, leggy body right up to the wedge-shaped head which swung back and forth warily, plum coloured eyes sparkling with cold intelligence. She might have said it was a dragon; during the Immortals War, she remembered looking up to see the beautiful creatures gliding over the sky, yet it had not two wings, but four curled against its back, and no back legs, just that pale shimmering pink tail flicking lazily as it lay sprawled on the earth.
And worst of all, not two eyes; but three. The third red-purple eye was set in the centre of its head and rolled in mad spirals.
Every sense she possessed screamed at her that she was looking at pure evil. Never mind its colour or its beauty or the way it glittered, it was *evil*.
She froze still as the head turned to stare straight at her.
"Fragile it may be," it drawled in a deep, cracked voice like the rustle a thousand pages being turned. "But it is not stupid. Stop pretending, mortal. I can sense you are awake."
Andrea stayed where she was, too afraid to move. Then the woman mage strode over and yanked her to her feet roughly, ignoring how she twisted Andrea's arm so she cried out.
"It does look rather breakable, does it not?" The thing leered at her and Andrea gasped at the two rows of perfectly even, triangular teeth that were presented to her. Before she turned her head from the fetid blast of its breath, she saw red-brown smeared and encrusted along the tips and cracks of those fangs. "Have you a name, child?"
She shuddered and stayed silent. She understood that to tell this monster anything was to give it a part of the key that might unlock her mind and soul. And strangely, she longed for the bright blue eyes of the boy who had saved her last time, the boy who made her world safe whenever the vision of him appeared.
"Perhaps you did not hear." It paused and she heard the blast of its breath like bellows on a blacksmith's fire. "Your name. Now."
She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
The blow hit her to the floor.
She shrieked and clutched her cheek with a shaking hand. Her head pounded, her knees had gone numb from the impact with the hard earth as its insipid tail lashed back and flicked up her cheek, leaving a cut that ran from ear to jaw.
"Name." The mage pulled her to her feet again, her hands rough. But as Andrea looked into the Oriental woman's dark eyes, she could see something there that startled her. Fear. The woman was afraid of this beast. She called it master; did it rule her, then? "Name, child, or you will have no tongue to utter it with."
"Andrea," she gasped in a voice that trembled like a leaf in a gale.
"Pretty." The creature smiled again, its third eyes fixed on her in quivering impatience while the other two stared over her shoulder. "A pretty name for a pretty girl. Obey me, and you stay pretty. Disobey and you end up like her."
One clawed foot lifted to point at the mage. Andrea heard the woman's quick indrawn breath.
"Show her."
The mage nodded quickly, her skin ashen. She pulled aside the red silken robe and underneath, Andrea could see she wore only hose and a cropped top of russet hide that left her belly bare. And along that bare expanse of skin were laid deep, violent slashed marks that were red at the edges and ran deep. They should have been fatal, the healer part of her whispered. Why isn't she dead?
"She disobeyed me. She called me to her to do her bidding and found that immortals are not so easy to keep." It spat out the last word. "And now she is my slave to do as I will."
She swallowed and heard the sound of her own fear swishing in her ears. Inside, she screamed and screamed and wished only to be far away, but outwardly, she forced herself to stay calm. He couldn't die now. She couldn't.
"What do you want from me?" she said, somehow keeping her voice calm. Maybe if she complied, it would let her go.
"The boy." The creature's pale pink scales glistened as it rolled over languidly. Almost like a cat, but oh, far more dangerous. "Where is he?"
She felt her eyes widen. No, anything but that! "I...don't know."
Its tail slashed her feet from under her and she hit the ground, winded. As she lay there, blood on her face and pain in her back, that cruel head appeared above her, the elongated neck arching. "You lie. Where is he?"
Andrea stared at it as all three eyes bored into her. She couldn't tell it that. She knew this creature meant no good; she could feel it, and she wouldn't, she wouldn't put the boy in danger. "I don't know."
"You will tell me!" it roared and the very sound shook the ground. Claws dug into her shoulders as its full weight rested on her, pushing her flat until her vision began to black out. "Tell me or die!"
Mercifully, she passed out.
* * * *
"Goddess take us all," Numair Salmalin said weakly, wiping a hand across his brow. "That was far too close for comfort."
He looked around, his enchantingly dark eyes flickering around the clearing. He winced as he saw the mess of spidren bodies and spidren parts left scattered around. There was blood trickling sluggishly from a cut in his shoulder; he healed it with a touch. Healing was not his strength, but with the recent wars, he had learned enough from the Lioness to cure simple wounds.
"Squire Keladry?" The girl came staggering out of the forest, her face masked with blood – most of it, he noticed, the silvery fluid of immortals, grinning tiredly.
"Fine, sir," she said staunchly. She was a true fighter, he had realised, in every sense of the word. It took depths of courage he wouldn't have expected in a teenager to withstand the opposition of becoming a female knight. Unlike Alanna, she wasn't touched by the gods, she had no magic, nothing but her own skill. And from what he had heard, there was plenty of that.
"Ryan?" He looked at the streetboy. "You did well."
In truth, he had never seen anything like it. Even fully-fledged battle mages would have found it difficult to stop such an onslaught so quickly...and the boy had simply stood there and done it. He had never even seen a spidren, never used any sort of spell and he had destroyed easily a dozen of the creatures. The tall mage shook his head in astonishment.
"Ta, sir," the boy said with one his rare and brilliant smiles. "Take it we ain't stickin' round here tonight?"
"I think not," he replied, turning to the unconscious noblewoman on the floor. "I'll heal Lady Bruna and we'll be going. I have no urge to rest in peace just yet."
And while they rode, he could try and puzzle out what on earth he was supposed to teach this unusual mage.
* * * *
"Lioness?" Neal of Queenscove ducked into his knightmaster's room to find her practising swordwork. He watched as the sword flickered like lightning through increasingly complex moves with pure envy.
"What is it, Neal?" The Champion put down her sword, smiling. He was still stunned at the idea that the King's Champion, the *Lioness*, a living legend would want *him* as her squire. "I was getting tired of all those exercises." She gestured for him to sit.
"I...have a problem," Neal said weakly. A problem. That was what he had to call it. And his problem happened to be fourteen, with wistful hazel eyes and charms he had never noticed.
The Lioness fixed him with that intense purple stare. "A problem. Well, I certainly know about those!" She grinned. "You have no idea what I got up to when I was a squire."
"I think I might," Neal said carefully. "I've...done something I'm not sure I should have with one of my friends."
"I assume you mean Keladry of Mindelan," said Alanna, arching a copper eyebrow.
He gave her what his friends all called his evil eye. "No," he drawled sarcastically. "I've secretly been having a passionate affair with the Crown Prince."
"I hope you haven't," the knight remarked, her mouth lifting into a smile. "That'll certainly spoil Jon's plans for the succession." She sighed at his exasperated look. "Neal, you aren't usually this irritable. What is it that's bothering you so much? From what palace gossip has told me, you kissed her in the stables."
"Palace gossip?" he said in alarm. He knew Kel was frowned upon by the stuffier nobles. If word got around, both of them could be in serious trouble.
She held up a hand. "I've put a stop to it. It won't go any further."
"Well..." He exhaled and tried to think how best to tell it. "I didn't mean for anything to happen at all. It's...it's *Kel*. She's my closest friend. I didn't even notice anything had changed and now...it's never going to be the same again and I don't even know if...that's what I want from her."
The Lioness looked thoughtful, her brow creasing in concentration. His knight mistress might be explosive with her famously flammable temper, but Neal had found she always tried to help however she could and admired her for it. He had read so much of the lady warriors of old and always thought of the Lioness like that, one of the fierce untouchable women. But she was disarmingly down to earth.
"I don't know what to say to you," she told him. "I don't have any kind of miracle solution. The only thing I've ever learnt about relationships is that you have to take each moment as it comes. Personally, I've always detested relationships."
As he looked confused, wondering what her husband thought of *that*, she hurriedly explained.
"I don't mean I'm not happy with George." A faint softening of her mouth at the thought of her...unusual husband.
Neal had been brought up with the new court, which his father had often told him was vastly different, and liked it immensely. So many of his family were of the old breed, who refused to acknowledge the Baron and Daine Sarrasri (and even the Lioness herself) because they didn't have the breeding or blood.
"I just mean...relationships take time and patience." The Lioness rolled her eyes. "And gods help me, a sword and all the skill in the world can't make them easier. I think if I had to go through it all again now, I'd scream."
Thank you, Neal thought, that's absolutely no help.
"One thing I would say to you though, Neal," she said gently. "Keladry is young. Do you really want her to get tied up in a relationship *you* aren't even sure about at that age? Think it over. I think you have to decide what it is you want exactly. And if it isn't Kel...tell her soon. And if it is...are you prepared to wait?"
He left her quarters thoughtful and collided with someone as he came round a corner. There was a crash as books hit the floor, and as Neal knelt to pick them up, he heard a stream of violent cursing.
He looked up, astonished, and met a pair of sea-green eyes. Eyes framed with long, long eyelashes and wisps of brown hair that escaped from under an expensive silk scarf.
"You idiot!" the noblewoman said vibrantly, among other, less printable things. Neal felt his mouth hanging open at her command of the language. "Do you know how old some of those books are?"
He looked at the first book. A medical books, full of ailments and spells to cure them, one he knew well. "Three hundred and seventy six years, in the case of this one," Neal said calmly, flipping through to look at the delicately done images of hissing reptiles. He closed it and looked her straight in her smouldering eyes. "Hello. I'm a human being. What are you?"
She snatched the book away, clutching it to her chest. "You should watch what you say." Her small, fine-boned face was angry.
"When I have you to watch instead?" he said gallantly and watched as puzzlement crossed her face.
"Did you just...compliment me?" she said curiously. She had a lovely, melodious voice. Shame about her temper.
He shrugged. "I've found it works with angry women."
"An unusual approach," she said mildly. "Now let's see your departure."
Neal almost laughed, emerald eyes glittering. She was sharp as a Shang blade and every bit as deadly. "That's not very polite."
"You crashed into me. If you wanted polite, you'd have to be a lot better looking." She took the rest of the books from him, her stare throwing him a blatant challenge. "And how does someone like you know about books? I would have thought the sort with pictures would be more in your league."
By someone like you, Neal translated squire. "You haven't met someone called Vinson or Garvey, have you?" he said suspiciously.
"If you mean those revolting oafs that tried to paw me in the corridors, yes." The girl's look of contempt deepened. "Friends of yours, I suppose."
Neal snorted. "I've never liked them and I always will."
She laughed and it transformed her; she was one of those rare people who were lit up by happiness and Neal blinked and stared before he could believe it. She was radiant in that moment and all thoughts of Kel went flying out of his head.
"You really aren't like them are you?" she said merrily. "This is the first good argument I've had in ages!"
"You...like arguing?" he asked, brow furrowing. Neal had never met anyone in the palace who thought anything like he did. At the university, it was different; he would spend hours arguing a point with his friends, but here, the only fighting was done with weapons. "And reading?"
She gave him a cool look. "Please don't tell me you're another of those who think women should sit around and embroider all day."
If only you knew! Neal thought. "My closest friend here is a girl who wants to be a knight," he said wryly, ignoring the odd flutter of his heart at that. "And I wouldn't dream of telling her to go and embroider anything. Unless I really *wanted* her to break my arm."
The girl put the books on the floor and held out a callused hand. "Phillippa ha Minch. But my friends call me Pip."
Pip? It wasn't a noblewoman's name, and this girl, in her rich silks and with that icy accent, was certainly pureblooded as they came. Then she winked, and said, "I'll tell you when you can call me that."
Absence...makes the heart go yonder.
* * * *
They rode for hours. By the time they reached the village it was dark and Bruna was complaining loudly. Kel, who was aching all over, wished she would just shut up. She had been unconscious for the duration of the fight and come off with a mild bruise on her shoulder after Master Salmalin had healed her. Kel had refused any help, in case they met more immortals.
The mage was bargaining for rooms to stay the night while they tied up the horses.
Bruna was patting own her neat brown hair. "You! Streetboy!"
Ryan looked round from where he was unsaddling his bay. "Are you a-talkin' to me?" he said in disbelief.
"Take care of my mount," the girl ordered, her voice lofty and strode out.
"Good job all nobles ain't that arrogant," Ryan remarked. "Only thing stoppin' me from hittin' her is..."
"The fact she's a lady?" Kel murmured. Ryan had an odd sense of honour she was beginning to get used to. Despite the fact he was a thief, he still treated her with respect.
The boy glanced over, grey eyes cool and amused. "Her? The famous good time that was had by all? She ain't no lady, Kel. I just don't hit people weaker 'n me."
"Weaker?" She shook her head, grimacing as it made her bruises twinge. "I don't think so."
"You look at her, you can see it," Ryan said quietly. There was something a little haunted in his face then, making him look startlingly vulnerable. Only my age, she thought but seems so much older, it's easy to forget. "You don't get to be that mean without somethin' happenin' to you. Reckon she ain't always had it easy. She just don't know how else to treat people. If someone's cruel to you, why should you be nice to anyone else?"
"You aren't like that," she pointed out. She had seen the scar on his face, the way he dealt with weapons so coolly. She had heard a lot about life on the streets of Corus, and even if only half was true, it was hard, cold existence.
"I had Hana," he said quietly. "But if you's a noble, you only got people lookin' up to you. You ain't never got anyone to talk to. Seems to me she's lonely."
"After all," Kel murmured, "Half the court hardly counts as company."
A shrug as he groomed the horse, perspiration glistening on his skin. "I don't know. I'm just a streetrat. Maybe you're right. But I just don't think people are born that spiteful. It ain't right."
They carried on in silence, leaving Kel with her thoughts. She was just musing over the fight, wondering how she could have done better, when a scream shredded the night in two.
She looked at Ryan and they both ran outside...
And stopped dead in horror.
* * * *
Right, hang on while I just go and pick my socks up...'cause they were well and *truly* knocked off! My thanks to all of ye who commented and made my festive season festive indeed! Thank you to:
Alec (I am sorry...hang on..::gets on knees:: See? I'm grovelling...and just think if there was no cliffhanger...you wouldn't have anything to look forward to :-) And neither would I...I have not a clue what's going to happen)
AquariuSagE (::beams:: I'm thrilled you're liking it (ya know, I didn't expect hardly anyone to respond and I've just spent these last few weeks in a state of gobsmacked-ness.)
Cait (The reason the other Gifted people didn't sense it is because you have to be *very* Gifted. Jon, Nuamir and Bruna were the only ones who felt it enough to be woken up. Though Ryan blowing the castle to bits got everyone else up too. Thanks!)
Dara (Thanks! And I can answer some of those questions...a) Can't say. b) Devious and sinister things. c) I really can't say (to quote 'Friends') d) Definitely :-) Nah. 'Please continue' makes me write more. I could *never* get tried of it.)
FireLily (Thank you! I have *not* forgotten you this time, even if that 'xing' thing won't send me your reviews...::grins:; We have the village horse, the village bike, the communal lock, the local bowling ball...what does this say about England?)
Jaelawyn Noble (Thank you :-) It's a rare day when any one calls me perfect; well, except in the context of 'you've made a perfect mess of this...')
Kali Gurlie (Thank you! Well, i don't know if she will escape...I have been known to go *quite* insane and start randomly killing people off.)
Kira Oneil (Thank you :-) It's always lovely to hear that! In the Top Three of day-making sayings, I think. Don't ask what the other two are....)
Mage Melery (::beams:: Actually, you'd be surprised how often people don't tell me that :-) So it's wonderful to hear it! Gracias! I know Andrea has a hard time...but well...it's going to be someone :-) )
Noel (Hiya! An hour? I-karumba! Thank you for all the amazing compliments...I hope they *don't* go to my head...I'm intrigued - or else what? :-) ...)
Quartz (Wow! Heeeeowge review! Cheers! Well...I'm not some famous writer person (if I was, I'd be Isobelle Carmody...love her books) and I have to admit, it's been a while since anyone applied the word 'normal' to me without 'ab' in front of it. What's Kwanza, please?)
Scyther2.0 (Thanks :-) Glad you're liking it! The next part *is* here, I've just been busy over the Christmas rush!)
Sparrow (I like thanking people :-) Y'all deserve it...you don't *have* to put yourself out to tell me you like/don't like the story. What kind of person am I if I don't even say thanks? And by the way - thanks for the comments :-) I'm having fun writing this)
Starlight* (Depression really brings me down...did I just *say* that? Ah well, hope you're feeling happier - Christmas!)
Team Socket (I *like* cliffhangers, even if I am scared of heights ;-) And as for Andrea...it depends on how I feel when I write it...let's hope, aye?)
Wazzup Girl (Happy Christmas y'self:-)...and let's all hope we make it through the New year...I swear, I hear one more 'And to an end the world shall come in the year of two thousand and one'...grrr...)
:o) (I find action scenes difficult too...they are *not* my strong point.)