A/N: Chapters like this one are going to be slow in the coming since I'm now a college student.. and a college student on the college newspaper staff! It didn't help matters that I got a major case of writer's block not even halfway through this, but then it came back to me and the words came easily. I do feel that you'll be pleased with this chapter, and hope that all of you are following along even after such a long break. Please review… reviews are more important now than ever before, so help me out!
Disclaimer: Yeah, I disclaim everything except everything I create myself. ::grins::
Chapter Twelve: Surprises and Rescues
Timothy's heart stopped. Here he was, ready to grab the retched crest, only to face something completely different. The ax was nothing spectacular, other than the fact that it was made of pure gold. Hesitantly, Timothy stepped up to the large slab on which the ax sat and gingerly picked it up. Much to his surprise, it didn't weigh as heavy as it looked. The ax was almost pleasantly light and agile, and Timothy realized that he was swinging it back and forth. He stopped abruptly, anger and frustration building inside of him. What now? The key, apparently, was meant to open the door leading to the ax. Now that he had gotten this far, was the crest the next step? The murals that were painted in the hallway just outside showed the black haired wizard making the Potter crest. They were connected, the ax and the crest, so did that mean that in order to find the crest the ax had to be used again? If so, where was Timothy to go now? It was all so dizzying that Timothy sat down on the spot, ignoring the layer of dust and dirt from the floor that was getting all over his school robes.
What exactly was this ax, anyway? Timothy studied it, turning it over in his hands. There was nothing fancy about it at all, which was surprising for such an apparently important object. Some simple decorative carving surrounded the handle, but everything else about it was ordinary except for it being gold. Well, there was nothing more down where he was to do, and fatigue was quickly befalling him. Timothy gruffly got to his feet, carefully slid the ax under his pants' belt, and pocketed the key again. Ignoring the murals on the walls when he left, thinking they had nothing more to offer, he climbed up the hole under the tree and stepped back unto grass. Almost instantly after he had cleared the hole, the huge oak tree slid back into place. It was exactly as it was before he had been there. For a moment, Timothy stared at the dark woods around him, feeling an odd notion of being watched… judged… and grinned at. He shook his head, feeling silly, and began the walk back to Devonshire Manor.
For an odd reason Timothy couldn't understand, the walk back to the gardens furthest from the Manor wasn't as long as it was when he left it. He found himself standing amongst its roses, the dark red color of the blossoms even darker with the lack of light. The moon was hidden by overcast, so Timothy treaded carefully. He didn't dare light his wand or use magic, not with Muggles so close nearby. He didn't want to chance that someone might be awake. Timothy suspected that Epona might already think he was a wizard, or something along those lines. Even then, he didn't want to prove her right less she decided to tell anyone.
As quietly as he could, Timothy made his way through the inner gardens and at last reached a servant door. Everything was dark and gloomy, and he took a deep breath before he stepped inside. Timothy had always been wary of the dark. The story about how his father lived almost his entire childhood locked in a dark cupboard, and how his mother was captive in complete darkness for weeks, always made him scared for them. Whenever he had a bad dream, the dark would taunt him, and the only comfort was crawling between his parents in their bed. Many times his parents woke up to find him curled under their blankets, or woke up when he yelped because his father almost crushed him when he turned over, or his mother slapping his face when her own dream caused her to lash out. Yet they never got angry, his parents were always understanding, and many times either one of them would get up and lay with him in his bed until he fell asleep again. The darkness could do nothing to his parents, and that thought made him feel safe.
Yet, as Timothy struggled to find his way out of the bowels of the Manor and back upstairs to his room, his fear of the dark intensified. His parents were thousands of years in the future, and he was all alone. He felt strangely vulnerable and defenseless… a vague memory of being pinned in a corner as a small child while some demon laughed at him in the darkness of his own room. Malfoy… that's who the demon was. He had been after Timothy since he was five years old… kept him captive in his room for days until he finally left. He was a creature of darkness… and it was this creature that Timothy had to face and destroy. All alone.
So caught up in his memories and thoughts, that Timothy didn't realize the firelight that hit his eyes when he walked into the lobby. It was the voices that stopped him.
"We have reason to believe that a boy and a young man have come by this way." Said a dark voice.
"That is true. Are they in some sort of trouble, sirs?" Answered a drawling voice that could only be Florn.
"The pair have been accused of witchcraft. His Majesty the king has ordered their arrest." Another gruff voice.
Timothy nearly swallowed his tongue in shock and fear. Quickly, he ducked behind a pillar and strained to see who the men were. In the firelight that came from several lit torches around the front doors, were five very large looking men. They were dressed in black armor, and looked nothing like the royal guardsmen that had apprehended Timothy before. No, no these men carried themselves differently… a way that was unmistakable.
These men worked for Lord Welles, the evil wizard in which Crouch was after. Somehow, they found out about him and Patrick.
Florn said nothing right away, and that was too long for the men. One of them brushed past him and ran upstairs, closely followed by three more. The servant opened his mouth to protest, but the head man raised a hand and not a sound came out of Florn's mouth. Timothy quailed in fear, wondering what to do. He would give himself away if he were to go warn Patrick. Then they'd both be caught. Distract them then? But how? Timothy pulled out his wand and grasped it tightly, racking his brain for a spell or hex. He was taking too long, for in a moment he could hear Patrick's shouts as the men dragged him downstairs. Paralyzed with fear, Timothy could only watch as his ancestor was roughly pulled into sight, the head man leering at him triumphantly. His expression changed, however, when he realized that they only had Patrick.
"Where is the boy?" He demanded.
"We couldn't find him, sir." Answered one.
"Fools! He's the one that his lordship wants most! You find him or else you'll no longer have eyes with which to search!" The head man raged, and the men who weren't holding Patrick ran back up the stairs. Timothy watched helplessly as Patrick struggled in the grips of the men. The leader laughed mercilessly.
"Not even the great wizard fool known as Potter can do anything against the Cipiola spell. It leaves you without your precious magic, as you can see. Soon, his lordship will have control over the land once again, and those stupid enough to resist him will have no more power!"
Patrick glared up at him, trying to fight back but with no avail. Timothy couldn't stand it any longer, he was just about to jump out and start some sort of diversion, when a hand landed on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Master Potter."
Stifling a scream, Timothy turned to see Lady Epona smiling serenely at him in his shadow.
"You're a witch." He blurted out bluntly, not realizing he had said it too loud. Epona quickly slapped her hand over his mouth and nodded.
"You can say that… and you're a wizard. So is your brother, but I'm afraid he has had a most terrible spell put upon him. Those are Lord Welles' men."
Timothy pulled her hand away and looked back at the magical henchmen that were quickly growing more annoyed.
"Yes, and I'm too much of a coward to think of something." He whispered.
"Shh!" Epona hissed as the others of Welles' men returned empty-handed.
"WHERE IS THE LITTLE WORM?" Bellowed the leader, his team cowering at his feet. Patrick let out a relieved sigh, before the head man punched him hard in the ribs. "Well, the runt is too small to go on without his kinsman. We'll just go back and wait for him to come to us."
"But… sir, do you think it wise to judge this wizard child…" Spoke one of the men meekly. The head man's expression was dangerous, and the man shrunk back behind one of his fellows.
"You're going to go after them, of course." Epona whispered as the men left the Manor.
"What else can I do? But they know I'm coming and will be ready for me." Timothy groaned.
"You're more powerful than you realize." Epona said, her voice level since the coast was clear.
Timothy turned to her, his fear plain on his face.
"I'm only twelve years old, Epona. My parents are… are far away. I don't know anything. How can I possibly beat these men?"
Her expression was soft, yet there was a ferocity in her eyes that made Timothy feel more confident.
"You aren't who you appear to be. The magic flows to you like river into the ocean. You are a very strong wizard and I feel that your parents are as well. Yet, like you said, they aren't here… but you are as much a part of them as they are a part of you, and so you can do anything you put your mind to. Courage isn't the absence of fear, but the acknowledgement of it and power to overcome it. You have that power. There is much expected of you, indeed, but the pressing matter now is the life of your ancestor and your friend."
He stared at her, awestruck.
"How did you…?"
"I'm a sort of witch, remember? I know that if your ancestor dies, so will you and your entire family. If your friend dies, so will your future." She said quickly.
"Why…?" Timothy was confused, but Epona pushed him out toward the door.
"Better get going, Master Potter. And do be careful with that ax, it's not what it seems."
Even though he hadn't slept for nearly a day, Timothy ran down the worn path that Lord Welles' men had made while dragging Patrick away to where ever Lord Welles was. He knew that he was running straight into a trap, but he knew of no other way of which to follow. It was quite possible that the men were hiding in ambush, ready to jump out at Timothy. Yet his mind was too caught up in what he will do when he got to where Patrick and Luna were. And what about Crouch? Hadn't he set out to find Lord Welles and save Luna as well? Was the whole purpose of going out with Patrick in the other direction simply to obtain the ax? Well then, he was going the right way after all… there was no other way to go.
Timothy's reserve energy eventually began to fail, and he had yet to come upon anything remotely like Lord Welles' castle. There was nothing but worn dirt, grass, and trees. No sign of civilization. The dark and the twinkle of the stars began to lull him into a stupor, making his steps falter.
No, I can't stop… must… keep… going… Timothy urged himself on, but his entire body screamed for rest. He stumbled to his knees, catching himself with his hands and cutting his palms on the sharp rocks that littered the ground. The pain seemed far away… further as his eyelids began to droop.
"Can't stop here, son, you can't." Said a voice above him that he didn't recognize.
"Sleepy…" Timothy muttered, feeling strong hands pulling up on his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, youngling… but you have a lot to do and no time." The voice urged.
"Time…" Timothy whispered, his eyes refusing to stay open. "I'm lost… lost in time."
"You aren't lost," the voice said gently into his ear. "I'll carry you there, but you must learn on the way."
Timothy felt himself being lifted, and strong arms held him as he rested in the grip. He let his eyes close, finally, but he listened to that voice. It told him things… things that only his subconscious would remember…
The sun rose upon a vast hill that could have been a mountain. Huge, towering trees from the forest surrounded it, closing it in on all sides. At the center of the huge hill was a castle that competed with its base's size. It certainly made Hogwarts look like a day-care center. Timothy looked at it all in awe, before drawing out his wand and charging the gate.
He would never remember how he got there, only that he had opened his eyes and found himself standing before this awesome spectacle. Certainly he was still afraid stiff inside, but there was also a sense of confidence and knowing that made him straighten out his robes and walk right up to the front gate. Apparently, the front gate was only the first of several gates, leading up to the main gate that led into the castle itself. Most assuredly there would be guards waiting for him, just as magical as the ones that he had fought off in the forest before Luna was taken away and the ones that took Patrick as well. Yet, inside the castle itself was Lord Welles, and no doubt the very witch that had banished Timothy and Luna back in time. Whatever he was about to face was nothing to what he was getting himself into once inside the castle.
With the golden ax tucked within his robes and his wand in his hand, Timothy pushed open the first gate. Nothing happened. He let out the breath that he had been holding in slight relief. The land beyond the gate was barren, just a field, leading up to the second gate. There seemed to be no danger, and yet with magic, nothing is ever as it seems. Tensing up, Timothy began to make his way toward the second gate. He was about half way there when, suddenly, the ground split open. A huge monolith shot out of the ground.
"GO BACK!" It shouted.
Another monolith exploded next to it as Timothy began to flee.
"DANGER!"
Scared silly, Timothy ran at break-neck speed, but more monoliths leapt into his path, screaming at him.
"DISTRUCTION AHEAD!"
"YOU GO, YOU STUPID!"
"SOON IT WILL BE TOO LATE!"
Timothy's head began to pound with the monoliths' booming voices, and just as another one jumped across his path, he had just about had enough.
"DEATH WILL-"
"Will you SHUT UP?!" Timothy roared.
Instantly the monoliths fell silent. Timothy leered at them all, and continued calmly to the second gate, but not before he could hear the disgruntled whispers from the large stones behind him:
"Well, I never…"
"How rude!"
"Just doing our job, I mean, come on!"
"Not like we do it that often, either."
As he came upon the second gate, Timothy blinked as he realized just what had happened and how at first it didn't seem all that weird. But now, looking back, Timothy shivered at the memory and quickly pushed the second gate open.
Timothy was ready for anything, expecting a monolith to again jump out of the ground like before, but he never expected what he saw…
Jefforagons. Hundreds of them. There were all kinds of colors, surprising Timothy that they weren't strictly yellow like Jeff. Each one was chatting away as if it were some big family reunion. There were females, Timothy realized, and they didn't look all together that different from males. Even small hatchlings no bigger than Timothy's palm scampered around the field. It was so amazing to him that he simply walked out among them… but that proved to be a huge mistake.
"Intruder!" One Jefforagon yelled.
"Oh, gosh! What do we do now?" A female voice quailed.
"Eat him! That's what we do to intruders, right?" Another asked.
"Ergh, do you know how much fat are on humans? Leave them for the big blokes… this scrawny thing isn't worth biting."
"Well, what else do you propose?" Shouted a large red one.
Each Jefforagon stared at each other in turn, while Timothy nervously swallowed as he stood among them.
"Er…" he muttered uncertainly. "You can let me go."
Silence, then sudden laughter.
"Yeah, right… and loose our jobs?"
"I say we push him into the Hole." Shouted the red one.
"Yeah! The Hole! Push him into the Hole!" They all cried. Suddenly, Timothy felt sharp teeth snapping at his heels, forcing him into a corner. Frightened, Timothy held up his wand to say a spell to ward them off, but before he could blink he was suddenly pushed into a dark hole. The Jefforagons' laughter followed him down into the darkness, mocking him and making Timothy remind himself to tell Jeff how rude his ancestors were. At the same time he screamed his throat raw, tumbling and hitting the sides of the hole as he continued to plunge downward. Just when he thought he'd fall forever, he hit something hard and soft.
"ARGHHHHH!"
"AHHHHHHH!" Screamed whatever he had landed on. "GET OFF!"
Before Timothy could put forth effort to roll over, he was shoved roughly onto a damp and dirty stone floor. It was so dark that he couldn't make out who had done it, and he angrily lashed out no matter who it was.
"Don't PUSH ME!" He growled loudly.
"How dare you!" Timothy felt a hand slap him clear across the face. The sound reverberated off the walls that surrounded him and through his ears; his cheek stung acutely.
"Now that was not…" he began to bellow, but then something large, black, and furry with teeth suddenly began to attack them.
"AHHHHH!!"
"AHHHHH!!"
Timothy jumped into the arms of the person who had slapped him and they held each other as the furry assailant flapped about them before disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
Silence. Then…
"AHHHHH!!"
"What is it now?" Timothy yelped, squeezing whomever it was that was holding him.
"Timothy! Oh, Timothy! You're here, you're really here!"
Timothy squinted in the darkness at the person who was holding him, and it finally clicked in his mind.
"LUNA! You're down here?" He cried incredulously, before her arms squeezed around him so hard that the breath was knocked out of him. "Luna…"
"Oh, Timothy… Timothy! Oh, thank God! Thank you! I've been down here for ages… ages and ages, oh thank you thank you thank you!" She rocked him back and forth, oblivious to his feeble struggles for air. "Thank you! You've come to rescue me! Oh…"
As if having found Luna and being strangled by her weren't enough, she threw herself on top of him and before he realized what was happening, she kissed him. It took him so by surprise that he simply lost all feeling in his body, forgot about breathing, and just stared fish-eyed up at Luna's grateful expression as she let him go.
"So, Timothy… how do we get out? You do have a plan?" She cocked her head enthusiastically down at him.
"D'err…" he continued to gawk up at her. "You… er… you just…"
"Where is Patrick and Mr. Crouch? Are they with you?" Luna completely ignored Timothy's shock.
"You… Luna, you…" he slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position.
"Well… what? I want to get out of here!" She put her hands on her hips impatiently.
Timothy shook his head in disbelief.
"You kissed me." He said bluntly.
Luna stared at him a moment before her complexion went a shade darker; she blushed in realization.
"So?" she asked, nonchalant and shrugged.
Timothy looked at her accusingly, "You kissed me."
"And that's… bad?" Luna said innocently.
His jaw opened and closed a moment.
"You kissed me."
"So sue me!" Luna cried impatiently, standing up and throwing her arms up in the air. "Is it such a crime? Tell me… am I diseased or something? Hexed? Cursed? Forgive me for being eternally grateful for your appearance and rescue!"
Before Timothy could say anything more, she grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. "Now, Timothy Potter, you get us out of here or I'll… I'll… kiss you again!"
That got his attention, and now their situation came to his senses fully. Timothy realized that they were in some sort of underground dungeon. It was completely dark, save for the trickle of light coming down from the Hole where he fell from.
"Where is the door?" he asked her stupidly. Luna's eyes narrowed into a scowl, making him shrink reflexively.
"Where is the door? Where is the door! Do you think I'm stupid or something? If the door was open, I'd have left already and you'd be stuck in here by yourself! Where is the door…"
Timothy gritted his teeth and turned away from her, feeling along the walls for the door.
Being locked in the dark alone for so long can make a girl unbearably testy. He thought to himself irritably. And she kissed me!
"If you think a spell is going to open the door, you're even dumber than I thought." Luna crossed her arms, all gratitude gone.
"That's what they expect," Timothy said as he found the door and the handle. His father and mother had taught him at a young age how to feel for powerful spells and curses, and using that knowledge, Timothy sensed that there was in fact a particularly powerful spell on the door to keep it locked. "So we have to try something that they didn't expect."
"Like what?" Luna asked mildly.
"Like this…" Timothy pulled out a pin that was keeping a tear on his robes together and slipped it into the keyhole. After a few moments, the lock clicked open. He turned triumphantly to Luna, and for a moment's terror he thought she was about to leap on him again.
"How'd you do that? I knew you could do it! I knew you'd save me!" She squealed in delight, and to Timothy's relief, simply pushed past him in a blur and out of the dungeon.
"The day I like girls is the day I loose my mind." Timothy muttered to himself grudgingly as he ran to catch up with her.
"So where are they?" Luna asked, already up a flight of stairs and completely oblivious to the fact that they just might be in danger.
"Who?" Timothy said distractedly.
Luna gave an exasperated snort.
"Patrick and Mr. Crouch!"
"Patrick was kidnapped and most likely taken here, and Crouch went off to find you and Lord Welles… I dunno where he is." He answered pointedly.
Luna stopped in mid-step and Timothy ran into her back.
"Hey! Careful-" he started.
"So, you mean… you came all the way down here just for me?" She asked timidly. Timothy blinked and averted his eyes.
"Well… yeah, I guess."
Luna's eyes went wide and glossy, as if she were about to break down in tears, and before she could, Timothy pushed past her hastily and ran up the stairs further. "Let's keep moving."
"Oh, Timothy!" she squeaked, running after him. "You're so kind!"
Suddenly, Timothy heard something. He put his hand over Luna's mouth before she was about to make another outburst; her brows furrowed in annoyance. Ignoring Luna, Timothy strained his ears to hear.
"What is it?" Luna whispered, removing his hand from her mouth and pushing down her urge to reprimand him for doing so.
"I thought I heard something." He whispered back, not looking at her and still trying to listen.
"Like what?" There was a tinge of fear in her voice.
"Dunno," Timothy shook his head. "It sounded almost like, slithering, or something. I lost it, the sound's not there anymore."
Luna looked at him uncertainly. He swallowed hard and started back up the stairs again, Luna close behind him.
After several minutes and still no end to their ascent, Timothy began to pant.
"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.
"I've had a bad feeling about this since that evil woman banished us back in time." Luna muttered back.
Timothy gave her a sidelong look.
"Yeah, but haven't you noticed that this is almost too easy? Haven't there been any guards around the dungeon you were in since you got there?"
Luna thought a moment, then looked up at him uncertainly.
"I never saw anyone. Three times a day there would be food by the door, but I never saw anyone put it there. I assumed they just conjured the food inside."
Timothy drew out his wand and, almost hesitantly, grabbed Luna's hand. He didn't look back at her in fear she would see him blush. Instead, he took a deep breath and put on a determined look.
"Keep your eyes and ears open." He told her. Her hand began to tremble slightly and he squeezed back in reassurance. He wasn't sure if he was more surprised by his behavior than she was. If so, both of them didn't say anything, but merely continued to climb the endless stairs.
No matter how tired they were, Timothy and Luna kept hold of each other, even when relief from the stairs came into view. Light filtered from above, and soon a doorway could be seen and the top of the stairs. Instead of relaxing, Timothy tensed up more than he thought possible. He stopped on the last step and forced himself to look through the doorway into the light.
It looked like a common room, where the guards of all the dungeons would sit and get away from duties. A large fireplace held a quickly dying fire, with pots scattered across the hearth. Old wooden tables and chairs littered the large stone area, but there wasn't a single person there. Timothy tentatively stepped in further, pulling Luna behind him.
"Timothy…" she hissed in a frightened whisper.
"There isn't anyone here." He carefully said aloud.
"That doesn't mean there could be soldiers or something hidden in here, just waiting for us to let our guard down." She said slowly, looking around nervously.
"That's why we aren't going to let our guard down." Timothy held her hand firmly, making note of her point. He flushed slightly at not thinking of that fact on his own.
Pausing only to make sure the room was clear, Timothy found another door leading upwards yet again and they went through. This time, the stairs weren't nearly as long and they reached another doorway at the top. The light coming through this doorway was natural sunlight, and Timothy couldn't help but feel a flutter of hope at getting out of the dungeons without any problems whatsoever.
More cautious than ever, Timothy poked his head through the doorway. Sure enough, the inside courtyard of the castle itself was just past the door. It looked long devoid of anyone, but an ominous feeling in the air was so strong that the faint ray of hope quickly vanished.
"Stay close." He told Luna, stepping out into the sunlight. She nodded, her grip on his hand so tight that he wouldn't be able to let go of her if he tried. They slowly walked out into the courtyard, completely at attention for the slightest sound or movement. When nothing happened by the time they reached the middle of the courtyard, Timothy's nerves gave way to fear. Why was this so easy? Where were all of Welles' magical soldiers? Where was Welles himself? Where was Patrick? So many questions, so many it made him feel dizzy.
"Timothy… Timothy, are you alright?" Luna whispered to him with genuine concern.
Sweat broke out on his forehead and he swallowed loudly, but Timothy just nodded and forced his voice to be calm and cool.
"Just trying to figure out where to go… to go find Patrick and get us out of here."
Luna didn't look convinced, but nodded anyway. However, when they started moving again, the sunlight reflected off of the golden ax slung on Timothy's belt and she let out a gasp.
"What is that? Where'd you get that?"
Timothy started and immediately shushed her; he shook his head at her perturbed expression.
"I'll explain later. Now shut up and follow me."
They followed the parameter of the courtyard silently and alert. Luna was so close to Timothy that he could feel her breath on his neck. He felt his ears go hot as his whole face flushed, but he was too intent on his surroundings to say anything. When he saw a doorway up ahead leading to a tower, he headed straight for it.
The door had no keyhole, but Timothy felt no magic keeping it closed, so he pushed it open. Suddenly, Luna gasped and pushed him inside, stumbling after him and quickly shutting the door. Timothy turned on her angrily.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I heard someone behind us… I think." Luna recoiled from his livid gaze.
"Who knows who could have been in this room!" Timothy gestured his hand to the empty foyer before them. "We could have been dead by now!"
"Well we aren't!" Luna shouted back, getting over her fright. "Look!" She jumped out to the middle of the foyer. "There's no one hereeeeeee!"
Suddenly, a gust of wind just manifested itself on the spot where Luna was standing, and it sucked her right up through the ceiling.
"Luna!" Timothy shouted, jumping to the spot where she had been standing, but he found himself, too, caught up in the great vacuum and was swept up right after her.
"AHHHHHH!"
"AHHHHHH!"
It was as if Timothy were caught on a runaway broom that could only go straight up at top speed. He seemed to be going upwards forever until he suddenly collided with a ceiling and dropped like a rock back down until he hit something solid. The wind was knocked right out of him and he turned over on his back, gagging for air. He could see Luna, with a large gash on her forehead bleeding freely down her face, hovering above him with frightened eyes.
"Timothy! Breathe! You're turning blue!" She screamed in his face, but the air wouldn't come to him. His lungs screamed and the light in his eyes began to dim, Luna becoming out of focus.
"You have to give him air, quickly!" Shouted a voice, somewhat familiar.
Things began to get darker and darker, and Timothy couldn't hear anything anymore. He could only feel, and after what seemed like forever, he could feel the life-giving air returning to his lungs and he gasped.
"It worked!" Luna shouted nearly in his ear. "Oh, Timothy! Are you alright?"
All at once all his senses slammed back into place, and he looked up to see Luna leaning over him. Her eyes were wet, but she was smiling with relief as she helped him sit up.
"What happened?" He asked her, groggily. Each breath he took was sweet to his air-deprived lungs, and he tried his best to revel in each one.
"You were knocked down bad when you hit the top of the cage and landed on the bottom." She explained, and that's when Timothy's surroundings came into focus. They were in fact in a cage, hanging from a dark ceiling and a dark room. He peered into the darkness, but couldn't make out anything.
"I'm over here, if you're looking for me, young'n."
The voice that he had recognized spoke from behind him, and through his cage he saw another. In it, he could just make out a figure not unlike that of his father. Timothy's heart leapt.
"Patrick!"
"The same." His voice was strained, immediately making Timothy wince.
"Are you alright? I've come to get you out of here!" Timothy gripped the cage bars.
He could hear Patrick chuckle slightly.
"Oh, Timothy, our family becomes quite popular over the centuries, does it? I'm grateful that you've come for me, only, you're not in a position good for rescuing, now, are you?"
Timothy blanched and his hands fell from the bars.
"I… er… I'll think of something." He muttered uncertainly.
"That should be something to see, no doubt." Said a large and pompous voice, almost menacing. "Only, I think the only way to get out of that cage is to watch your ancestor die and see your very existence disappear."
Timothy slowly turned around, and there he saw a stout, yet muscular man with red hair wearing a most elegant uniform standing seemingly in midair next to the cage. Luna let out a petrified squeak, and instinctively Timothy backed away until he found the end of the cage. Luna cowered next to him, almost burying her head into his shoulder.
"Good job, m'lady." Said the man to someone. Only, there was no one else in the room. A large black snake rose from his shoulders, and with a pop, in its place there she was. Veronica Murtov, with her malicious smile, stood next to him.
"Oh, no, my lord. It was all you." She kept her eyes on Timothy, and he felt his blood boil. That's when Timothy realized whom the man was. What he meant by killing Patrick and himself disappearing as result. This was Lord Welles, the evil wizard that Murtov wanted to rule the world.
A/N: Been a while since I've given you a nice, healthy cliffhanger, eh? It gives you something to chew between now and the fateful day chapter 13 arrives. When will that be? Not sure, but here's what you can do- my website updates frequently, that's one way of knowing. I now have my own private mailing list that will give you a heads up on new chapters/stories/announcements, Email me to join ^_^
Orca On the Web: Like I said before, it's updated so frequently it's sad. There are new novels on the recommendation page- prepare yourself for school reading! The contest due date is September 15th, so get your subs in before then! For more info on that, go to the website! ::grins again:: Lots of stuff to do and see there, so check it out and bookmark it-
"Paths go nowhere, People do" ~Cat (The Wild Hunt) by Jane Yolen
~OrcaPotter