"So the plan is, I send you and LeAnne to the cage where your guardians are
being held, or at least somewhere close. Knowing Mithros he has a billion
different spells on that thing, so I won't be able to get all of you back
simply by snapping my fingers."
Keladry struggled to keep her attention on Kawitha, as yet another colorful
bird landed on a nearby tree ranch and began to preen itself. She just
couldn't understand how such a thing could exist, it was so beautiful.
"So you use the staff I gave you to get out.you have been practicing those
spell I taught you? LeAnne will have weapons for your guardians, so that
all you have to do when your freed is fine Mithros, kill him, and I'll come
get you! Easy as pie!"
Kawitha smiled optimistically, as if having Mithros would be dead within
the day was the simplist thing in the realms. "Do you understand? Kel.Kel?"
Kawitha cleared her throat and Keladry's head snapped back to look at her.
"Sorry," she apoligized. "You were saying?"
Kawitha glowered at Kel, obviously not used to being ignored. "I was saying
that I should shave my legs, take all that hair, and glue it onto my face
so I'll have a beard," Kawitha said simply, her inhuman face glittering
perfectly in frustration.
Kel's thoughts had drifted off again. "Mmm.hmm.alright," she said
absentmindedly. The past weeks had passed by in a blur, and everyday Kel
became more and more of a shadow of herself. The Yamini quiet that had
ruled her life as a page had returned, and Kel hadn't noticed. The
persistant voice that had been the determination inside of her had
disappeared.and Kel felt blissfully empty.
It was too much, really. The days of being "The Girl Lump" were over, her
hopes of getting a shield were gone. Thoughts of romance that had been
centered around Neal had turned to Owen, which was maddening enough. But
now her friends were gone, captured. But Kel, who hardly ever won a match
against LeAnne in fighting ("I'm your guardian," LeAnne would protest. "I'm
supposed to be able to beat you.") would be going against their kidnapper,
Diane's father. Diane was always helpful, and the idea of killing anyone
was grotesque.
And even by the off chance that Kel succeded, Mithros was the center of
every tortalians life. Bringing Mithros to his knees would be.treason. Kel
could hardly return to her home after, and had been fighting to long to
give up being the Shyinue.
So, after plenty of thought, and weighing of the facts, Kel had come to a
definate conclusion.Destiny blows.
"Kelady.Shyinue.daughter."
Kel looked up, her face betraying none of the emotion running through her.
Fancy clothes had gotten old, her red hair even older. At first, it had
seemed like encouragement, like someone out there was saying "She could be
as great as the Lioness." But in the end, it was just something else to
give up.
"I want to go home," Kel whispered feircly, surprising even herself. "I
didn't ask for any of this, I can't.can't."
Kel turned away, and looked toward the balcony again. "I won't win."
She felt a small hand rest on her shoulder and looked into Kawitha's eyes.
"Do you love your guardians?"
Kel nodded faintly. LeAnne was like her sister, and Owen was.Owen. Even the
others, though nerve grinding and near intolerable, seemed truly commited
to the cause, and to her.
"Are they worth fighting for?"
Again she nodded.
"Then why are you still here?"
"I was scared."
"Are you still?"
Kel looked up harshly, grim determination, and a fatal acception glowing
through her hazel eyes.
"No."
"The purd-y girl from Bonna Lee
Came one day to speak to me! I closed me eyes to get a kiss Then me ran away when I heard her lisp." "Owen?" "Yup?" "For George's sake, stop singing!" "Ok!" A few minutes of glorious silence went by. Then. "Poetry anyone?" There were disgruntled groans in the darkness. For the past four months the three squires and the desert wanderer had been stuck in a prison chamber no more grand than a rats cage, and no bigger than Lalasa's dress shop. Though the boys were free to move about their new quarters freely, there was no point. The room was doorless, windowless, and lightless. "You'd think, being a god, Mithros would be able to afford slightly better dungeons," Vinson gruffed for the third time that day. It was a new ritual, Owen would try and keep the Jolly, Bauxbart ("Bauxy-baby" he would insist) would tell them of his "conquests", Joren would sulk, and Vinsen would complain. "One chamber pot? For three, starved, women deprived, guardians."
"who are slowly wilting away to nothing, we know," the others would finish for him. "And Bauxy is hardly wilting to nothing," Joren remarked sullenly. "If anything, he just gets bigger everyday." In the dark, Baux huffed in offense. "That's just a big belly from hunger." He patted his now large stomach, as if to back his claims. Owen snorted, temporarily forgetting his role as entertainer. "No, that's called stealing half the food off my plate!" Joren's eyes, though unseen and unseeing, bulged. "Your's too?" Food would come every once and awhile, it was impossible to tell when, exactly, without looking at the sun, and would arrive in extravagant meals of seasoned meat ("taste's like chicken!" Owen said every time) and vegetation. Though no silverware came with it, the boys took care of that easily: they used their hands. Vinsen broke the rare moment of silence. "So Baux has been eating my food, and Jorens, and Owens?" "That sounds about right." "Yup." "So we should kill him, then" Vinsen asked, rubbing his hands together happily. "It's something to do," Owen agreed. He too was grinning excitedly. "On the count of three?" Joren said, his voice still businesslike and calm.
The other boys confirmed it, began counting. "One." "I swear, I'm innocent!" Baux protested loudly, backing up until he hit the wall behind him. "Two." If there had been complete silence, the four boys would have heard two faint "pops", signaling Kel and LeAnne's arrival. "Three!" The three squires rushed forward together, fists raised and teeth bared. Calloused knuckles hit soft flesh, promising large-and painful-bruising. "What in Mithro's Name do you think your doing?" A sore yet amazingly intact Kel demanded. She had been unfortunate enough to appear directly before Baux, saving him from a well deserved beating. "Kel!" a chorus of voice exclaimed. Owen went to hug her, but in the darkness her hadn't seen Kel move to one side to avoid an earlier punch from Vinsen. Owen stumbled and found himself with his arms wrapped around Baux's large waist. Producing a rather strangled sound that seemed to be a mix between a dying cow and a squealing court lady, Owen pushed the older man away quickly. "Mithros Sheild, Owen!" Kel cried. "What's wrong?" Vinsen snorted into the dark, "He probably took one look at your ugly face and died of fright." "Don't be silly," Kel snapped. "Its too dark for him to see anything." "George's Shield," Joren interrupted wisely. "What?" "We thought it would be weird saying 'Mithros' anything, if we were just going to kill him anyway," Vinsen explained. "And as far as we know, we won't be killing anyone named George anytime soon," Joren agreed. "Unless Mithros has another name we don't know about," Owen said, finally finding Kel. He wrapped his arms around her waist quickly and squeezed. When he pulled away, only the complete darkness was enough to conceal their blushes. Oblivious to the romance going on beside him, Joren said, "What would we say then?" "Bob?" suggested Baux. "Paul?" offered LeAnne. "What about Baux's Sheild?" asked Joren. "I thought we were going after people we weren't going to kill," said Vinsen, who made an attempt at sounding thoughtful (a new and highly scary experience for him). "We can't kill Baux!" Kel exclaimed, making Baux smile happily, under the misguided notion that someone loved him. "At least, not until we beat Mithros. We need every sword arm we can get." It's a common fact that when left alone, males fall under the incredibly misguided impression that they are invincible, and can, in fact, rule the world. Every woman knows that this is untrue, and will then try to persuade them otherwise. It was the mention of possible weakness that brought these particular men down to size, and started to install a rather suitable fear in them. They were, after all, assassinating a god. "If you are through acting like numbskulls, maybe we could get this over with?" LeAnne scolded, conveniently forgetting that she had been part of those "numbskulls" moments before. "Are you ready Kel?" Kel nodded her head, and felt LeAnne's warm hand squeeze her arm in reassurance. "We'll be tripping numerous alarm spells," Kel warned the boys. "So I suggest you have your weapons in hand." "What weapons?" The boys sounded genuinely confused, and LeAnne's hand left Kel's arm. A slight breeze told Kel that she was passing out the weapons Kawitha had prepared for them. "Owen, be careful. Those arrows shoot out flames and you don't want to burn your fingers. Joren, that sword will turn your target to stone for about 10 seconds, then they will shatter. Which means stop trying to hit Baux with it! Vinsen, this is a gun. You pull the trigger, a piece of metal will shoot out at your enemy and hurt them pretty bad. You can practice after we get outside!" LeAnne yelled, as the familiar sound of a gun being cocked was heard. "And Baux, here's another sword." Baux took it gingerly. "What powers does this have?" he asked, his voice in awe. LeAnne laughed, "If you hit it up against something.it will hurt it!" While Baux contemplated slicing the New Yorker to pieces, the rest of the company laughed. It was a weak, nervous laugh, but the tension in the air wavered. "Everyone, hold onto my shoulders," Kel urged, as she retrieved one of her own weapons: her staff. Lifting the gold and white adorned rod above her head, she closed her eyes and imagined what Mithros throne room would be like. As she conjured up images from what Diane had told her, a soft glow enveloped her hands. Pictures of what Mithros looked like, according to books in the library, raced through her mind and up into the diamond cap of the staff. The glow steadily increased as she took what Kawitha had taught her and shot it inside. Soon her companions were enveloped as well. But instead of their images growing sharper in the light, they faded, wavering in and out of vision. Soon even Kel had disappeared from the room.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You are the one who would destroy me.
Keladry looked up into the great black eyes of Mithros, who had assumed the form of a stag. Even in animal form he was terrifying, powerful enough to have religions built under him, and realms destroyed before him. It was all there, every ounce of power had ever ruled the realms, and she could see it.
You are afraid of me.
"Yes," she whispered. "I am very frightened."
The stag laughed, a deep, resounding chuckle that echoed through the white tinted room. The single window splashed images against the glass, images of her friends, her guardians, surrounded by Mithros army of gods and defenseless, save the weapons given to them by the Kawitha herself. And it was Kel's fault.
You amuse me, little one.
Kel had tripped more alarms then she had imagined, and her friends were paying the price. Mithros had separated them, bringing Kel to him, and her guardians to his army.
Pity, I will have to crush you in the end.
Keladry was with the great god of gods himself, and she was alone.
An: I need 12 more reviews and I'll give you your next chapter! Clips from the guys POV are in the next chapter, as well as a battle scene.
"The purd-y girl from Bonna Lee
Came one day to speak to me! I closed me eyes to get a kiss Then me ran away when I heard her lisp." "Owen?" "Yup?" "For George's sake, stop singing!" "Ok!" A few minutes of glorious silence went by. Then. "Poetry anyone?" There were disgruntled groans in the darkness. For the past four months the three squires and the desert wanderer had been stuck in a prison chamber no more grand than a rats cage, and no bigger than Lalasa's dress shop. Though the boys were free to move about their new quarters freely, there was no point. The room was doorless, windowless, and lightless. "You'd think, being a god, Mithros would be able to afford slightly better dungeons," Vinson gruffed for the third time that day. It was a new ritual, Owen would try and keep the Jolly, Bauxbart ("Bauxy-baby" he would insist) would tell them of his "conquests", Joren would sulk, and Vinsen would complain. "One chamber pot? For three, starved, women deprived, guardians."
"who are slowly wilting away to nothing, we know," the others would finish for him. "And Bauxy is hardly wilting to nothing," Joren remarked sullenly. "If anything, he just gets bigger everyday." In the dark, Baux huffed in offense. "That's just a big belly from hunger." He patted his now large stomach, as if to back his claims. Owen snorted, temporarily forgetting his role as entertainer. "No, that's called stealing half the food off my plate!" Joren's eyes, though unseen and unseeing, bulged. "Your's too?" Food would come every once and awhile, it was impossible to tell when, exactly, without looking at the sun, and would arrive in extravagant meals of seasoned meat ("taste's like chicken!" Owen said every time) and vegetation. Though no silverware came with it, the boys took care of that easily: they used their hands. Vinsen broke the rare moment of silence. "So Baux has been eating my food, and Jorens, and Owens?" "That sounds about right." "Yup." "So we should kill him, then" Vinsen asked, rubbing his hands together happily. "It's something to do," Owen agreed. He too was grinning excitedly. "On the count of three?" Joren said, his voice still businesslike and calm.
The other boys confirmed it, began counting. "One." "I swear, I'm innocent!" Baux protested loudly, backing up until he hit the wall behind him. "Two." If there had been complete silence, the four boys would have heard two faint "pops", signaling Kel and LeAnne's arrival. "Three!" The three squires rushed forward together, fists raised and teeth bared. Calloused knuckles hit soft flesh, promising large-and painful-bruising. "What in Mithro's Name do you think your doing?" A sore yet amazingly intact Kel demanded. She had been unfortunate enough to appear directly before Baux, saving him from a well deserved beating. "Kel!" a chorus of voice exclaimed. Owen went to hug her, but in the darkness her hadn't seen Kel move to one side to avoid an earlier punch from Vinsen. Owen stumbled and found himself with his arms wrapped around Baux's large waist. Producing a rather strangled sound that seemed to be a mix between a dying cow and a squealing court lady, Owen pushed the older man away quickly. "Mithros Sheild, Owen!" Kel cried. "What's wrong?" Vinsen snorted into the dark, "He probably took one look at your ugly face and died of fright." "Don't be silly," Kel snapped. "Its too dark for him to see anything." "George's Shield," Joren interrupted wisely. "What?" "We thought it would be weird saying 'Mithros' anything, if we were just going to kill him anyway," Vinsen explained. "And as far as we know, we won't be killing anyone named George anytime soon," Joren agreed. "Unless Mithros has another name we don't know about," Owen said, finally finding Kel. He wrapped his arms around her waist quickly and squeezed. When he pulled away, only the complete darkness was enough to conceal their blushes. Oblivious to the romance going on beside him, Joren said, "What would we say then?" "Bob?" suggested Baux. "Paul?" offered LeAnne. "What about Baux's Sheild?" asked Joren. "I thought we were going after people we weren't going to kill," said Vinsen, who made an attempt at sounding thoughtful (a new and highly scary experience for him). "We can't kill Baux!" Kel exclaimed, making Baux smile happily, under the misguided notion that someone loved him. "At least, not until we beat Mithros. We need every sword arm we can get." It's a common fact that when left alone, males fall under the incredibly misguided impression that they are invincible, and can, in fact, rule the world. Every woman knows that this is untrue, and will then try to persuade them otherwise. It was the mention of possible weakness that brought these particular men down to size, and started to install a rather suitable fear in them. They were, after all, assassinating a god. "If you are through acting like numbskulls, maybe we could get this over with?" LeAnne scolded, conveniently forgetting that she had been part of those "numbskulls" moments before. "Are you ready Kel?" Kel nodded her head, and felt LeAnne's warm hand squeeze her arm in reassurance. "We'll be tripping numerous alarm spells," Kel warned the boys. "So I suggest you have your weapons in hand." "What weapons?" The boys sounded genuinely confused, and LeAnne's hand left Kel's arm. A slight breeze told Kel that she was passing out the weapons Kawitha had prepared for them. "Owen, be careful. Those arrows shoot out flames and you don't want to burn your fingers. Joren, that sword will turn your target to stone for about 10 seconds, then they will shatter. Which means stop trying to hit Baux with it! Vinsen, this is a gun. You pull the trigger, a piece of metal will shoot out at your enemy and hurt them pretty bad. You can practice after we get outside!" LeAnne yelled, as the familiar sound of a gun being cocked was heard. "And Baux, here's another sword." Baux took it gingerly. "What powers does this have?" he asked, his voice in awe. LeAnne laughed, "If you hit it up against something.it will hurt it!" While Baux contemplated slicing the New Yorker to pieces, the rest of the company laughed. It was a weak, nervous laugh, but the tension in the air wavered. "Everyone, hold onto my shoulders," Kel urged, as she retrieved one of her own weapons: her staff. Lifting the gold and white adorned rod above her head, she closed her eyes and imagined what Mithros throne room would be like. As she conjured up images from what Diane had told her, a soft glow enveloped her hands. Pictures of what Mithros looked like, according to books in the library, raced through her mind and up into the diamond cap of the staff. The glow steadily increased as she took what Kawitha had taught her and shot it inside. Soon her companions were enveloped as well. But instead of their images growing sharper in the light, they faded, wavering in and out of vision. Soon even Kel had disappeared from the room.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You are the one who would destroy me.
Keladry looked up into the great black eyes of Mithros, who had assumed the form of a stag. Even in animal form he was terrifying, powerful enough to have religions built under him, and realms destroyed before him. It was all there, every ounce of power had ever ruled the realms, and she could see it.
You are afraid of me.
"Yes," she whispered. "I am very frightened."
The stag laughed, a deep, resounding chuckle that echoed through the white tinted room. The single window splashed images against the glass, images of her friends, her guardians, surrounded by Mithros army of gods and defenseless, save the weapons given to them by the Kawitha herself. And it was Kel's fault.
You amuse me, little one.
Kel had tripped more alarms then she had imagined, and her friends were paying the price. Mithros had separated them, bringing Kel to him, and her guardians to his army.
Pity, I will have to crush you in the end.
Keladry was with the great god of gods himself, and she was alone.
An: I need 12 more reviews and I'll give you your next chapter! Clips from the guys POV are in the next chapter, as well as a battle scene.