Please remember peoples that it is rated PG for language and DISCLAIMER – I
only own the characters Jacob, Cole (for previous chapters), um… anyone
else? And the fief Myers Rock. Nothing else, all belongs to Tamora Pierce.
Oh, and if I hear of ANYONE using my characters for ANYTHING, you will find
some, ah, 'friendly' lawyers at your door soon as you can say, "Tamora
Pierce". Thankyou.
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
The Conté Duke
The palace doors shut tightly behind Alanna. She looked in amazement at the scene before her. Bodies lay lifeless on the floor, motionless yet still living. No movement or shadows passed Alanna's eyes, and it was extremely unnerving in the now empty, silent front hall.
Alanna stepped over the servants and nobles, careful not to touch anyone, for fear, if it was a sleeping spell, she would go under too. Her Gift tugged inside her, as if it was being forced to pull away; drain itself from her. But Alanna made it stay put where it was – right inside her.
As she stepped over one particular body, nearly at the door for the main area of the palace, something made her cry out in a strangled gasp. She stumbled onto her hands and knees and pain shot up her cold fingertips and knees.
Her head whipped around to see the person she'd stepped over. Her violet eyes widened as they lay upon the bodies of Jon and her brother. She stumbled over her own hands and feet as she spun crookedly to get to them. She scrambled over bodies, forgetting her fear of going under the sleeping spell that bound them all.
"Oh, bloody hell, curse it!" She swore terribly. "Oh, shit, shit, shit!"
Thom and the Prince were a deathly white. She hadn't realised it, but everyone was. She forgot about the feeling of needing to get to the source of this problem, and concentrated on her brother and his friend.
She reached inside them with her Gift. She found a sleeping spell; it connected them with every other person, animal and thing that was knocked out by this extremely powerful spell. She cursed under her breath. She couldn't lift the spell without awaking every other thing, and Alanna didn't happen to have that sort of power on hand, especially with all the pressures on her Gift.
She made a hasty decision. To kill the spell, find its source.
She stood quickly and immediately regretted it. Her head ached, and her stomach dropped. She shut her eyes and sneezed four times, all in a row. Alanna's nerves quivered. Whenever she sneezed recurringly something abnormal or supernatural occurred, so she was alert.
She looked up from her sneeze attack. There were stairs – long, thin, windy stairs. It led up to one of the abandoned towers, one that had heavy door barricades. Her vision followed up the stairs, and then she saw him. He was there, with a kneeling Delia at his side. He was stroking her hair with one hand, the other hand held a ball of bright orange fire.
Alanna shook her head and snapped back into reality. Then she remembered something that was in her vision – Delia. She hadn't seen Delia for so long. Oh, sure, for brief moments while she was eating, or she'd passed her in the hall, but only briefly. Alanna had wondered where she'd been the whole time, but now she knew – she was sucking up to Duke Roger.
Alanna was filled with determination. She stood up and swirled towards the direction of the stairs.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Alanna was at the stair bottom. She tenderly opened the door. It was surprisingly easy to open. She ascended the stairs with great caution, concentrating on saving all her Gift up. She had a feeling she would need it.
As she climbed the great stair, her thoughts wandered. Why would the Duke pledge this gigantic sorcery-attack on the palace? What temptations could he possible want?
There was revenge – but she had no knowledge of anything ever been put against Duke Roger. There was insanity – Alanna had always had a funny feeling about that Duke. Or there was power – probably the most likely one, Alanna thought of what power the Duke might want. Let's see, she thought to herself. First, he could want friends in Court – but this isn't the way to get about it! She reasoned with herself. A thought flickered in her mind – the Throne? Who was in line for it? There was King Roald, then there was Jon, of course, then there was…
Alanna stopped dead. However bad her stomach felt, it got ten times worse. The Throne. Roger wanted the Throne.
The remembrance of Thom and Jon's deathly-pale faces brought her back to her senses. She raced up the stairs with more and more energy and burst through the top door.
Delia and Roger looked up in surprise. Delia's look was venom, Roger's somewhat amused. Roger suddenly laughed out loud. Delia looked up in shock.
"I was wondering how long you would take to get here." He paused and looked at her searchingly. "You took more time than I anticipated."
"Really?" she spat at him.
The Duke's mouth curled into a wry smile. "Oh, don't play stupid with me, Lady Alanna," he said, his elegant voice sour. "I know you've been 'onto' me for ages. It's one thing you learn – never underestimate me."
Alanna breathed in, trying not to show her fear. How could she win this oncoming battle?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cliff-hanger! Suck. Oh well, at least I updated soon after. I'd better get started on the next chapter – only one or two more, I'm afraid. But don't worry, I'm thinking of a sequel… but I'm writing my Kel/Cleon fic first!!
~*~kaz~*~
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
The Conté Duke
The palace doors shut tightly behind Alanna. She looked in amazement at the scene before her. Bodies lay lifeless on the floor, motionless yet still living. No movement or shadows passed Alanna's eyes, and it was extremely unnerving in the now empty, silent front hall.
Alanna stepped over the servants and nobles, careful not to touch anyone, for fear, if it was a sleeping spell, she would go under too. Her Gift tugged inside her, as if it was being forced to pull away; drain itself from her. But Alanna made it stay put where it was – right inside her.
As she stepped over one particular body, nearly at the door for the main area of the palace, something made her cry out in a strangled gasp. She stumbled onto her hands and knees and pain shot up her cold fingertips and knees.
Her head whipped around to see the person she'd stepped over. Her violet eyes widened as they lay upon the bodies of Jon and her brother. She stumbled over her own hands and feet as she spun crookedly to get to them. She scrambled over bodies, forgetting her fear of going under the sleeping spell that bound them all.
"Oh, bloody hell, curse it!" She swore terribly. "Oh, shit, shit, shit!"
Thom and the Prince were a deathly white. She hadn't realised it, but everyone was. She forgot about the feeling of needing to get to the source of this problem, and concentrated on her brother and his friend.
She reached inside them with her Gift. She found a sleeping spell; it connected them with every other person, animal and thing that was knocked out by this extremely powerful spell. She cursed under her breath. She couldn't lift the spell without awaking every other thing, and Alanna didn't happen to have that sort of power on hand, especially with all the pressures on her Gift.
She made a hasty decision. To kill the spell, find its source.
She stood quickly and immediately regretted it. Her head ached, and her stomach dropped. She shut her eyes and sneezed four times, all in a row. Alanna's nerves quivered. Whenever she sneezed recurringly something abnormal or supernatural occurred, so she was alert.
She looked up from her sneeze attack. There were stairs – long, thin, windy stairs. It led up to one of the abandoned towers, one that had heavy door barricades. Her vision followed up the stairs, and then she saw him. He was there, with a kneeling Delia at his side. He was stroking her hair with one hand, the other hand held a ball of bright orange fire.
Alanna shook her head and snapped back into reality. Then she remembered something that was in her vision – Delia. She hadn't seen Delia for so long. Oh, sure, for brief moments while she was eating, or she'd passed her in the hall, but only briefly. Alanna had wondered where she'd been the whole time, but now she knew – she was sucking up to Duke Roger.
Alanna was filled with determination. She stood up and swirled towards the direction of the stairs.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Alanna was at the stair bottom. She tenderly opened the door. It was surprisingly easy to open. She ascended the stairs with great caution, concentrating on saving all her Gift up. She had a feeling she would need it.
As she climbed the great stair, her thoughts wandered. Why would the Duke pledge this gigantic sorcery-attack on the palace? What temptations could he possible want?
There was revenge – but she had no knowledge of anything ever been put against Duke Roger. There was insanity – Alanna had always had a funny feeling about that Duke. Or there was power – probably the most likely one, Alanna thought of what power the Duke might want. Let's see, she thought to herself. First, he could want friends in Court – but this isn't the way to get about it! She reasoned with herself. A thought flickered in her mind – the Throne? Who was in line for it? There was King Roald, then there was Jon, of course, then there was…
Alanna stopped dead. However bad her stomach felt, it got ten times worse. The Throne. Roger wanted the Throne.
The remembrance of Thom and Jon's deathly-pale faces brought her back to her senses. She raced up the stairs with more and more energy and burst through the top door.
Delia and Roger looked up in surprise. Delia's look was venom, Roger's somewhat amused. Roger suddenly laughed out loud. Delia looked up in shock.
"I was wondering how long you would take to get here." He paused and looked at her searchingly. "You took more time than I anticipated."
"Really?" she spat at him.
The Duke's mouth curled into a wry smile. "Oh, don't play stupid with me, Lady Alanna," he said, his elegant voice sour. "I know you've been 'onto' me for ages. It's one thing you learn – never underestimate me."
Alanna breathed in, trying not to show her fear. How could she win this oncoming battle?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cliff-hanger! Suck. Oh well, at least I updated soon after. I'd better get started on the next chapter – only one or two more, I'm afraid. But don't worry, I'm thinking of a sequel… but I'm writing my Kel/Cleon fic first!!
~*~kaz~*~