My thanks to everyone who
commented – see, all those reviews *did* make me write faster (I'm started to
get into this story now!). You're all *amazing* and I'm eternally grateful.
Anything you have to say would be adored, pored over, cheered,
revered, adulated, venerated, photocopied and framed.
Enjoy,
Ki
Hanging On Part Ten
"Mithros take me, shake me an' break me," Ryan breathed as he
stared at the thing. His velvet grey eyes were wide and wondering. "What's
that?"
"Hold it still, lads!" There was a group of men ringing the
creature, holding it down with ropes. It scream horribly again and reared up
against the restraints. "Don't let the bugger go!"
Kel shook her head. "I don't know. We never covered this in
Immortals Class."
"It's beautiful," the boy said, rough voice full of awe.
Beautiful wasn't the word she would have used. It looked like a
centaur, except above the human torso and human arms, its head was that of a
horse, with a foot-long golden horn gleaming in the centre of its forehead and
in place of its human hands, cat-like claws swiped the air futilely. One of the
men jabbed it with a spear and it cried out pitifully, collapsing onto the
ground.
She blinked and noticed Ryan had moved. He was walking forward,
towards where it hissed and slashed at anything that came near. It had hair
like a human's, tumbling down in a black mass from its equine head. The men
kicked and attacked it savagely, and she realised with a start she had her
sword drawn.
"Goddess!—an alicorn!" Master Salmalin had run out from the tavern
they were staying at and to look at the creature with a mixture of delight and
shock. "They're supposed to be extinct! Wonders never cease."
"They soon will be if these folk have their way," Kel said
grimly. "Sir...Ryan?"
The mage blinked his sloe-black eyes and followed her stare. He
paled as the streetboy came within reach of those madly raking claws, ducking
through the men holding it with ease. "Mithros, are all my students doomed to
be insane?" He pushed up his sleeves, muttering a spell. Kel felt the air hum
around her.
The boy knelt down beside it, dodging easily as a golden claw
scraped the air by his head. He put one callused, trail-grubby hand around its
horn and leant close. The alicorn snarled, but then Ryan began to glow that
eerie blue again and Kel could see his lips moving, as if he was whispering to
the beast.
It stilled, and lay there, looking up at him with its liquid faun
eyes, hooves sprawled as the men tightened the ropes around it. "Kill it now,"
she heard one say.
"No." Kel swallowed hard. She could see the beauty in it now it
was still; its inky coat was clean and glossy, skin smooth and unblemished.
"Don't hurt it," she said to one of the men near her. "Please don't."
He turned to her, muscles bulging as he hauled on the rope.
"You're a noble, lass. You don't understand. This creature's been eatin' our
animals and hurtin' our children."
"That weren't her." Ryan's voice cut across him sharply. He had
looked up, one hand still curled around the alicorn's gilt horn. All the wounds
on the immortal's body were healed, she realised, startled. "She ain't hurt
anyone."
"Aye? She fought hard enough," the man snapped brusquely. "We've
five men down with scratches from that creature's claws."
"You scared her." The boy reached out his other hand to touch one
of the ropes binding the creature. It rippled in a wave of blue fire and fell
into ashes.
"Oy!" The spears were suddenly levelled at Ryan. "You leave that,
lad. You don't know what you're dealin' with."
"Her name's Chantavol," the boy said quietly, facing the man with
fearless eyes on his alluring face. "It means Songflight. She came here from
the north only today. She don't know what's been killin' your beasts, but
alicorns are plant-eaters."
"Them claws are just decoration, are they?" the man said
sceptically, giving the streetboy a hard look. Ryan glared right back. "Damn
mages. Sittin' around wi' your books in fancy castles..."
Kel wanted to laugh. It was the most inaccurate description of
Ryan she'd heard yet. In his rough, simple clothes and with that untidily
tousled dark hair, there was no way he could pass for a noble. He had the face
for it, she'd admit, with that straight slim nose and firm sculpted mouth, but
the way he spoke and moved was all wrong; too predatory, too fluid. Too honest.
"Actually," Master Salmalin's voice cut in, "they *are* just
decoration." He gave the man a charming smile. "Alicorns are not considered to
be true immortals, due to the fact they were created in the Mortal Realms some
five centuries ago by a mage called Alissa Shandori. The claws are there purely
for protection. They are very easily frightened...and correct me if I'm wrong,
but if someone stuck a spear in *me*, I'd be rather upset."
Kel noticed Ryan was magically dissolving the ropes while the mage
talked. No one else realised until the alicorn stood up, shaking out her mane
of inky black hair. It fell down to where her human torso joined her horse
body; Kel was surprised to see she was wearing a rudimentary breastband over
her body and that her hands were well-kept.
"We shall take her," the mage was saying smoothly. "If you can
show me any of the wounds your mysterious creature has made, I may be able to
tell you what it is you should be looking for."
The man agreed sullenly, still keeping an eye on the alicorn, who
kept close to Ryan as if she thought he could protect her. Kel had to admit, he
probably could.
"C'mon," Ryan murmuring, strolling over to Kel. "Best get into
t'stables. She's somethin' she wants to tell us."
"The alicorn?" she said in disbelief. The creature gave her a
bland stare from startlingly intelligent eyes.
"You see anyone else here?"
said the boy wryly.
* * * *
"Thank you."
Kel's hazel eyes widened as the alicorn spoke. "Why didn't you say
anything back there?"
"I was afraid they might think I was lying or trying to bewitch
them." Chantevol ducked her head shyly, hooves clicking on the stable floor.
Despite her horse's head, the voice was utterly human, rich and slightly
earthy. "It's been so long since I saw mortals. Thank you, youngling," she said
to Ryan.
"No problem." Ryan smiled sweetly. He was tending to Bruna's
horse, albeit reluctantly. Mostly, Kel suspected, because he knew the noblewoman
wouldn't do anything. She gave him a hand. "What did you want to tell us?"
"Get out of here. You're entering the Deadlands, boy. No one of
our blood is safe here."
"Our blood?" His brow furrowed, obviously confused.
Chantevol nudged him with her golden horn gently. "Magical.
Something has gone wrong in these lands – all immortals keep far away from
these villages now. If we go near, we are set upon." Her lips drew back to show
square even teeth. It was not a smile. "My mate was killed a moon ago."
"That can't be right," protested Kel. "The King sends patrols this
way all the time."
"Armed patrols?"
"Of course," she replied, confused. She had often seen the
clusters of horseman leave with their shining armour and bright banners.
"Then they are safe. And I doubt many of them are...what is it you
mortals say? Gifted?"
"Aye," Ryan answered. He gave Bruna's horse an apple then settled
himself comfortably on a fragrant heap of hay. "What do they do to Gifted round
this way?"
"Here? Nothing. Maybe they'll throw stones or make it clear you
aren't welcome." The alicorn flicked her jet tail. "But within a day or two's
ride of here, I've seen them hang people they think are Gifted."
"They don't always get it right?" Kel shuddered at the thought of
helpless bodies swinging and mouldering in the breeze. "But surely someone
would stop them..."
Chantevol gave a neighing laugh. "Who knows? They certainly don't
say they were hung because they were Gifted! When they took my mate, I followed
them to see if I could save him. They were hanging a mortal then too, a small
one of you."
"A kid," Ryan translated. His face was shuttered and Kel couldn't
tell what he was thinking at all.
"They tortured my mate for two days." Her voice trembled and Kel
felt a stab of pity for these strange creature. "After they killed him, one of
your patrols came along. Men on my hoof-sisters with weapons. The village
people told him that the boy was a thief and that my mate had killed one of
their children."
A shiver danced up Kel's back. The story was uncomfortably close
to what the village people had said about *this* alicorn. She wondered what
would have happened if they hadn't been here.
"Are we safe here?" said Ryan grimly. His voice was unusually
gentle, sympathy in his face.
"For tonight," the alicorn told him. "But I fear the Deadlands
spread further every day. There is something controlling them, a dark magic. I
felt it when we travelled from the north and it was close by when my mate
died."
"Why do you call them Deadlands?" Kel made a mental to check her
weapons to make sure they were all in perfect working order. She did not want
to be caught unarmed against these Gift-hating people.
Her answer was startling.
"All magic is gone from them now. Even the Wild Magic has fled;
the Stormwings have found other eyries, the animals have fallen silent and no
Gifted mortals survive any more. Even the gods have been forsaken. Those
mortals worship something else now, something evil and rotting."
The alicorn tossed her head. "I did not think I would live to see
true evil rise again. In five hundred years, I have known nothing to match
this." Her keen eyes swung from Ryan to Kel. "Do not go there. They will sense
you are Gifted – and even if you are not, girl, they will kill you because you
travel with three mages whose power I felt half a league away."
"We have to." Ryan had taken out a knife and was honing it
skilfully. "Ain't got no choice. We're lookin' for a girl. Don't s'pose ye've
seen her?"
"What colour is her Gift?"
It seemed an odd question. Kel frowned and the alicorn must have
seen it because she smiled smoothly.
"To immortals, mortal magic is a colour on our senses. If you know
what colour your girl's Gift is, I may have seen her."
"Gold," Ryan said.
"Ah!" Chantevol breathed in deeply. "So you are the one who caused
such tumult in the magical planes the other night. I wondered, when you healed
me. You are touched by the gods, youngling."
"The Goddess actually, an' I think *she's* the touched one. In the
head."
Kel smothered a grin. It was not done to insult the gods; they had
a tendency to throw lightning.
"Then you should be doubly careful. You are bound to that girl—"
"Everyone keeps tellin' me that," the boy said exasperatedly, "but
I ain't got no idea *why*."
"Your blood," the alicorn said gently. "That's the answer."
"That ain't no answer!" Ryan snapped. "Can ye stop bein' so
cryptic?"
"If the Goddess hasn't told you, she doesn't want you to know. I
have no wish to anger her." Chatevol gave a little shrug. "I am sorry,
youngling. I can't help you with that...but I can help you in another way, if
you wish. As a parting gift, for you did not hesitate to help me, even though I
might have hurt you."
He looked at her, grey eyes shrewd. "All right. Long as it ain't
goin' to hurt."
"It won't," she promised. "Come here."
She laid the golden horn against his face, tracing it down the
scar that ran from his ear to his jaw. Silvery sparks trailed from her horn and
where it passed, the scar simply vanished. Then she touched her horn to his
palm, and a tiny glass vial appeared in a cloud of sparkling mist. "If ever you
need my help," she said, "break this."
"Do you know where you're going?" Kel asked quietly.
The alicorn turned to her and to Kel's surprise, touché her horn
to the cuts and bruises covering Kel. The alicorn's magic wasn't like Neal's –
it left an icy tingle in its wake. "No, little mortal. Why?"
"If you go to Tortall," she said, looking up into the kind face,
"I'm sure they'll welcome you there."
The alicorn gave another of her rare, brilliant smiles. "Thank
you. I shall tell others of my kind that not all mortals are cruel and cold."
She was gone soon after, and the four of them; Kel, Numair, Bruna
and Ryan, passed a quiet evening in the tavern under the watchful and wary eyes
of the village people. They told Master Salmalin what Chantevol had told them,
though Kel noticed Ryan omitted her gift. Still, it was his business.
Bruna spent most of the evening complaining about the quality of
the food, until Ryan unceremoniously told her where she could put it if she
didn't like it, and Kel tried to hide her laughter in an unconvincing coughing
fit.
Before she fell asleep that night, she wondered how Neal was, and
how all her friends in the palace were getting on. Eventually, she drifted into
pleasant, mindless dreams.
* * * *
"No, no, no!" Phillippa ha Minch declared loudly, flinging a book
aside. "Atheism is *belief* in the gods..."
Neal glared at her in mock-anger from where he had Faleron in a
headlock. "What? That's rubbish!"
She stood up, her expensive pastel green skirts swishing about
her. Neal watched in amusement as some of his friends' attention promptly left
their work and flew to the nolewoman whose sea-green eyes danced so wickedly.
"Atheism is a state of total denunciation of all gods. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Therefore," her finger stabbed the air, "in order to denounce the
gods in all completeness, one must first believe in them. If there is no belief,
there can be no doubt of that belief."
"That's not true!" Neal protested. "That's like saying I'm an
atheist in tables because I don't believe in them. But they still exist, I just
don't happen to pray to them every day—"
"No," Phillippa interrupted coolly, looking round. Seaver's dark
eyes dropped and Neal was amused to see Prince Roald flush slightly. "If you
don't believe in the gods in the first place, you aren't denying anything. It
would be like me denying the existence of..." She paused and waved a hand,
"oh...say, a spherical world. Everyone *knows* the world is flat, therefore
there is no point to me denying the existence of—"
"Um..." said Faleron pitifully. "My head is hurting."
"I know it's difficult to understand..." Phillippa began.
"It's not that," he said. "Neal, can you let go of this headlock
*before* you finish arguing?"
Ever since Neal had introduced Phillippa to his friends an hour or
two ago, they had been enchanted by her extremely unladylike habit of
interrupting, speaking loudly and putting a swift elbow into the ribs of anyone
who annoyed her.
"Can you teach me how to do that?" she said abruptly. Her lively
face was intent.
"What?" asked Neal, turning to examine his mathematics homework,
which was mostly crossed-out.
"That headlock." She came to stand in front of him so he couldn't
ignore her. "Neal of Queenscove, don't you know it's polite to pay attention to
a lady when she's talking?"
"You never shut up," he pointed out. "I wouldn't get anything
done."
He thought he heard Seaver mutter, "and how is that bad?" but
chose to disregard it.
"And no, I'm not going to give you another way to make me regret disagreeing with you," he finished, scrawling down the answer to an algebra question.
She grabbed his arm and twisted it.
"Yeeeouch!" Pain shot up his arm as he struggled to get it free
and finally, scowled at her. "Where did an almost-nice girl like you learn
that?"
"Roald taught me earlier, while you were writing that etiquette
essay." Neal shot a furious glare at the Prince who shrugged. "And that
answer's wrong. It's three a plus seven b, not five. Now teach me, or I'll
break your fingers."
"If you can do that, why do you want to learn how to headlock
someone?" he demanded exasperatedly, resolving to have words with Roald later.
Harsh words, he amended as she twisted his arm round another few degrees.
"I like making men cry."
"Well, you'll have another one on your hands if you don't let go,"
winced Neal. He could hear people sniggering in the background and resolved to
make the lot of them sorry on the practise courts very soon.
She did.
"Why don't you show her some Shang moves?" Merric recommended. The
redhead seemed to find the this hysterical. "I bet Phillippa would love to make
grown men fly as well." His eyes sparkled.
Phillippa tore off her headscarf and secured her masses of curling
brown hair. "That sounds good. Neal?"
"Look, if you're serious—"
"You know I am."
"—then you're going to have
to get some more suitable clothes." He looked at her intricately embroidered
clothes. "You cannot fight in those."
She kicked him in the shin. "I seem to be doing all right."
Neal's eyes narrowed in emerald slices. Then he moved forward
fast, ducked the punch she threw at him and flipped her. She didn't scream,
which he was impressed with, but promptly tried to grab his ankles and trip
him, which he was not impressed with. After ten seconds of unscrupulous
fighting, Neal ended up with her kneeling, both her arms locked behind her
back.
"All right," she conceded. "I'll go change."
"Thank Mithros," Neal muttered.
She gave him a blinding smile and disappeared. Neal settled back
down to his algebra.
After about twenty minutes, Seaver tapped Neal on the shoulder.
"Shouldn't that firecracker you've picked up with be back by now? She's only a
few corridors down."
He was right. Frowning, Neal put his books away and walked down to
the corridor. He heard a voice shouting words no lady and certainly no
noblewoman should know and then the sound of a harsh slap.
Neal ran...and when he got to the source of the commotion, found
Phillippa twisting violently in the grip of Vinson of Genlith.
Who was holding a knife to her throat.
* * * *
Thoughts? Comments? Opinions? Mistakes?
My heartfelt thanks to the
following :-) I love reading what you have to say, and hearing what you'd like
to see more/less of:
Alec: Thanks :-) It snowed
here - I had fun making snow angels...snow makes me revert back to a child. Are
you in Oz? Just ya know, it being midsummer wherever you be.
Ariana: Well, personally, I'm
all for plot complications. It's time to see what Neal is made of (apart from
flesh, blood, water and oxygen.) Trust me...hmm...is that a good idea? I know a
lot of peopel who would say not :-) Ta!
Dara: I think you may find
out how one gets rid of that thing :-) I think the hcances of it handing Andrea
over are about as likely as me stripping and dancing a hula, and I'm sorry for
even putting that image to electronic paper. Thanks!
Jennifer: Thanks - I know
Daine has good breeding, but I'm guessing most of the Tortallan dusty,
narrow-minded 'old' court wouldn't. And they'd probably look down on her anyway
because she's common.
Jinx: ::grins:: I think
that's what's known as a kick-ass review :-) I'm thrilled you like it - and
thank you for telling me so!
Kali Gurlie: Well, Neal's a
guy. Sometimes it is not their head which does the thinking. Us authors like
cliffhangers because (my opinion only) we like it when people ask us to write
more and we have something exciting to write about.
Mage Melery: I-karumba girl,
that's a review and a half! Thank you so much! I have that heights thing too.
More than twenty feet up and I'm a shuddering clinging screaming wreck :-)
Me: Short n' sweet. I see you're
a person who knows what you want - thanks!
Noel: Yay! Someone who likes
cliffhangers :-) I have to say, I've never met anyone truly, terribly horrible
without a reason...hence, Ryan philosophising...something bad - you're going to
sing 'It's a Small World?'
Phantasea: Pip may indeed be
a complication...I don't know whether I'm for Kel/Neal or not. I'm a romance
sap and I think they're cute and all, but...I don't know...and that was *not* a
lame review. It was an uncrippled, happily running review.
Quartz: Huh. Well, we didn't
blow up. That's not fair! After all my preparation...and if you really want to
confuse people, just look them in the eyes nad say 'I bank with the Abbey
National' :-) Bound to get The Look. Thanks!
Queen of Sheba: brother, bother,
aren't they the same :-) Thank you for that long and spirit-lifting list of
adjectives! And I *will* continue. I don't think I could stop now :-) I'm
addicted.
Wazzup Girl: Ah, extra
punctuation :- A cunning way to expand crits :-) Thanks - I hear and obey! Yon
Streetrat shall be seen more of (he is pretty danr important in the story, I
have to say).
:o) : Well, I guess it is
horrible...but I have never, ever claimed to be a nice person :-) And Neal's a
guy. They do that. (Not to be bitter or anything :- ) And ya know, at the
moment, Pip's just a friend.
And thank you also to
everyone who commented on the poem :-) Ann, Mage Melery, Setsuna Mei Chocolat,
Umm and the mysterious anonymous one.