The cracks around her were splitting the air. Streams of light were
disfiguring the sky, unnaturally dark at this hour. Yells and screams
echoing through the whirling sands were cutting into her head, and it was
only when a large something flew just over her head and exploded right
behind her that she thought she'd better get under cover.
From the cliff she'd dashed behind, she had a view of everything that was going on. It confirmed her worst suspicions. It was nothing more or less than a battle.
Lily recognized a small army fighting desperately, which included Tom, Macnair, Avery, Nott, and several others she'd seen in the cave with Tom several times. And against them an army of wizards in dark green robes were fighting, blasting, injuring, killing. And there—Lily saw a tall silvery figure dash into view. Litharelen. Mounted on Svordsja and armed with her wand, she managed effectively to trample several while cursing others. And Svordsja, Lily saw, was a wonderful ally in battle. It was the most painful thing anyone could imagine to get speared on her horns, and about ten had found that out already. It was easy to see now that Litharelen was an expert horsewoman. Though Svordsja reared, trampled, galloped, and jumped too many times to count, Litharelen never slipped an inch from the pentacorn's back. It was amazing, Lily thought. All around Litharelen and Svordsja, a mass of dark green and black were clashing, and this streak of silver was fearlessly fighting and rearing. Lily was moving forward slowly, out of the safety of the cliff. She was closer to the battle now; once she flinched as a streak of fire landed on the ground next to her crouching figure.
Keeping her eyes on her friends, Lily watched. It was breathtaking to see the utter courage and casualness Litharelen displayed as she threw four opponents to the ground, stunned, and then was ready to take on five more.
Lily smiled. "Note to self. Never anger an elf-nymph."
Or a pentacorn. Someone had hit Svordsja in the flank with a spell that left a large gash along her side, and, with a terrible scream that cleft the dusty air into millions of tiny pieces, she fell over, pinning Litharelen underneath her. The Ministry lost no time.
By the time Tom had realized what had happened and had fought his way over to Litharelen's side, her skull had a deep gash in it and her arm was broken; her chest was slowly developing a large bruise. With panic in his eyes, he took his stance right over Litharelen, enraged and infuriated, daring every Ministry wizard to come at him. Which they did.
Lily could see that the Ministry was well organized; they had swept most of Tom's followers to his left and held them there, fighting, while Tom was being slowly encircled by at least thirty wizards in dark green. And as a cut across Tom's chest started to bleed profusely, they started attacking even more vigorously.
Without consulting her common sense, she slipped to the body of a fallen Ministry member and pulled his wand out from his grasp. With a deep breath, she moved forward into the circle of death, trying desperately to push aside the fact that she was only a fourteen-year-old child.
The Ministry was puzzled, not to say astonished, when from one area in the circle their men started to fall, lying rigidly on the ground with only their eyes moving. In an instant, before they had time to regroup, Lily had slid through and had knelt over Litharelen, who was weakly trying to get up. Tom whirled at Lily's light touch on his sleeve. For that instant, he forgot how young and inexperienced she was; all he saw was a faithful ally.
"Lily! Thank God! Listen, you've got to help me!"
Lily shook her hair back. "That's what I came to do."
Tom shot a few bolts of blue light towards three attackers, who immediately ceased to be attackers. Then, with a large effort, he managed to get Svordsja to her feet.
"You've got to get Lith out of here."
Lily had already slipped cool hands under the elf-nymph's body. "Where to?"
Litharelen groaned slightly as Tom placed her on top of the pentacorn's back. "There's a mountain range over there. Go to the nearest valley you can find, hidden, if possible, from anyone over here, and set her off."
Lily swung her foot over Svordsja's back, and next instant, she was mounted, and gave a curt nod.
"See you, then." Without waiting for a response from him, she turned Svordsja around, and, digging her heels viciously into the pentacorn's side, managed to gallop through the re-forming ring of Ministry wizards. She was heading, without further ado, for the blueish-gray mountain range in the distance.
Back on the sand, surrounded by his enemies, Tom smiled mockingly.
"Well then, who's next?"
Lily thundered over the plains, dodging overhanging tree branches and trying her best to keep her seat while ripping large parts of her black Hogwarts robes to pieces, trying to bind up the pentacorn's wound, and by the time they reached the mountains, it had stopped bleeding and leaving a trail. Keen eyes searched for a safe place to hide, and within seconds, Lily had swerved to a stop underneath an overhanging cliff. Gently, she unloaded Litharelen and pulled her onto a somewhat mossy piece of earth.
Svordsja was fine; at least for the moment. There was a pool on the end of the cave, and she slowly dragged herself over to it. Dusty, wounded, and tired, the pentacorn let her head fall onto her front legs as she sank to the ground.
Frowning, Lily bent over the hardly breathing figure, once the tall, stately, and somewhat scornful elf-nymph. The broken arm was somewhat easier to set to temporary rights; there were some branches in a corner. Lily managed to weave a makeshift sling out of some long plants and what was left of her robes, bending the arm and putting it out of the way, for the moment. There was nothing she could do for the bruise on the elf- nymph's ribs; all she could do was tear a piece of black cloth away from the sling and soak it in the cool water, bathing the bruise with it. Then she turned to the gash on Litharelen's skull.
It was terrible to look at. Dark red blood had stained her hair and matted the silver threads to her head, besides covering most of her left side. Lily gently washed away the blood; then, she took a closer look at the cut.
At least three inches long, it ran from close to her eye to right below her ear. Half an inch wide, it gaped open horribly, and every so often, Litharelen would convulse in a spasm of pain. Lily sat back on her heels.
She had looked at the diagram of the elf-nymph in the back of her new Anatomy book, and she was pretty certain that she knew at least the basics. There was a small vein that ran just along that line where Litharelen had been cut, and Lily only hoped to goodness it had not been severed. If it had, Litharelen had no hope; not even magic could heal that wound.
Lily unhooked her necklace and removed the stone, tucking it far into a pocket. The claws of the pendant weren't ideal for this purpose, but they were adequate. Lily was putting the delicate vein back into place when Tom appeared at the entrance of their shelter.
"Lily! Is she all right?"
"Don't bother me."
"Fine, fine. You know what you're doing?"
"Would you?"
"Absolutely not." Tom shook his head. "Never studied that."
"Hrmph." Lily frowned. "I'll be doing this solo, then. Keep watch at the door, and for God's sake hand me that extra pair of robes you're wearing. And your knife."
Tom complied, shooting a worried glance at Litharelen. As soon as he had vanished, however, Lily set to work frenziedly, cutting away chunks of the matted silver hair that was in danger of getting into the wound.
Then the more delicate work began; stitching up the gash with a makeshift needle. Lily made an note to herself never to go around without a needle in her pocket; using a homemade bone needle was terribly inconvenient.
It was dusky outside before Lily called Tom back in. She had meanwhile sent a jet of blue fire onto kindling leaves, and it was warmer inside, which was good, as the chilly night air started to set in. Tom entered, bending so as not to hit his head on rocks protruding from the ceiling. He made his silent way over to Litharelen, who was breathing more calmly now, and not so roughly.
"Is she all right?"
Lily nodded, though it was useless; he couldn't see her. "She'll be all right. It isn't too serious—well, it isn't now."
Tom nodded distractedly, letting out a large sigh of relief. He knelt down next to the motionless form on the bed, kissing her brow lightly, then taking her hand in his and sitting down next to her, his forehead pressed against her cold palm.
Quietly, Lily withdrew, replaced the stone in the golden claws, and returned to Hogwarts, slamming into the bed with a breath-taking thump.
From the cliff she'd dashed behind, she had a view of everything that was going on. It confirmed her worst suspicions. It was nothing more or less than a battle.
Lily recognized a small army fighting desperately, which included Tom, Macnair, Avery, Nott, and several others she'd seen in the cave with Tom several times. And against them an army of wizards in dark green robes were fighting, blasting, injuring, killing. And there—Lily saw a tall silvery figure dash into view. Litharelen. Mounted on Svordsja and armed with her wand, she managed effectively to trample several while cursing others. And Svordsja, Lily saw, was a wonderful ally in battle. It was the most painful thing anyone could imagine to get speared on her horns, and about ten had found that out already. It was easy to see now that Litharelen was an expert horsewoman. Though Svordsja reared, trampled, galloped, and jumped too many times to count, Litharelen never slipped an inch from the pentacorn's back. It was amazing, Lily thought. All around Litharelen and Svordsja, a mass of dark green and black were clashing, and this streak of silver was fearlessly fighting and rearing. Lily was moving forward slowly, out of the safety of the cliff. She was closer to the battle now; once she flinched as a streak of fire landed on the ground next to her crouching figure.
Keeping her eyes on her friends, Lily watched. It was breathtaking to see the utter courage and casualness Litharelen displayed as she threw four opponents to the ground, stunned, and then was ready to take on five more.
Lily smiled. "Note to self. Never anger an elf-nymph."
Or a pentacorn. Someone had hit Svordsja in the flank with a spell that left a large gash along her side, and, with a terrible scream that cleft the dusty air into millions of tiny pieces, she fell over, pinning Litharelen underneath her. The Ministry lost no time.
By the time Tom had realized what had happened and had fought his way over to Litharelen's side, her skull had a deep gash in it and her arm was broken; her chest was slowly developing a large bruise. With panic in his eyes, he took his stance right over Litharelen, enraged and infuriated, daring every Ministry wizard to come at him. Which they did.
Lily could see that the Ministry was well organized; they had swept most of Tom's followers to his left and held them there, fighting, while Tom was being slowly encircled by at least thirty wizards in dark green. And as a cut across Tom's chest started to bleed profusely, they started attacking even more vigorously.
Without consulting her common sense, she slipped to the body of a fallen Ministry member and pulled his wand out from his grasp. With a deep breath, she moved forward into the circle of death, trying desperately to push aside the fact that she was only a fourteen-year-old child.
The Ministry was puzzled, not to say astonished, when from one area in the circle their men started to fall, lying rigidly on the ground with only their eyes moving. In an instant, before they had time to regroup, Lily had slid through and had knelt over Litharelen, who was weakly trying to get up. Tom whirled at Lily's light touch on his sleeve. For that instant, he forgot how young and inexperienced she was; all he saw was a faithful ally.
"Lily! Thank God! Listen, you've got to help me!"
Lily shook her hair back. "That's what I came to do."
Tom shot a few bolts of blue light towards three attackers, who immediately ceased to be attackers. Then, with a large effort, he managed to get Svordsja to her feet.
"You've got to get Lith out of here."
Lily had already slipped cool hands under the elf-nymph's body. "Where to?"
Litharelen groaned slightly as Tom placed her on top of the pentacorn's back. "There's a mountain range over there. Go to the nearest valley you can find, hidden, if possible, from anyone over here, and set her off."
Lily swung her foot over Svordsja's back, and next instant, she was mounted, and gave a curt nod.
"See you, then." Without waiting for a response from him, she turned Svordsja around, and, digging her heels viciously into the pentacorn's side, managed to gallop through the re-forming ring of Ministry wizards. She was heading, without further ado, for the blueish-gray mountain range in the distance.
Back on the sand, surrounded by his enemies, Tom smiled mockingly.
"Well then, who's next?"
Lily thundered over the plains, dodging overhanging tree branches and trying her best to keep her seat while ripping large parts of her black Hogwarts robes to pieces, trying to bind up the pentacorn's wound, and by the time they reached the mountains, it had stopped bleeding and leaving a trail. Keen eyes searched for a safe place to hide, and within seconds, Lily had swerved to a stop underneath an overhanging cliff. Gently, she unloaded Litharelen and pulled her onto a somewhat mossy piece of earth.
Svordsja was fine; at least for the moment. There was a pool on the end of the cave, and she slowly dragged herself over to it. Dusty, wounded, and tired, the pentacorn let her head fall onto her front legs as she sank to the ground.
Frowning, Lily bent over the hardly breathing figure, once the tall, stately, and somewhat scornful elf-nymph. The broken arm was somewhat easier to set to temporary rights; there were some branches in a corner. Lily managed to weave a makeshift sling out of some long plants and what was left of her robes, bending the arm and putting it out of the way, for the moment. There was nothing she could do for the bruise on the elf- nymph's ribs; all she could do was tear a piece of black cloth away from the sling and soak it in the cool water, bathing the bruise with it. Then she turned to the gash on Litharelen's skull.
It was terrible to look at. Dark red blood had stained her hair and matted the silver threads to her head, besides covering most of her left side. Lily gently washed away the blood; then, she took a closer look at the cut.
At least three inches long, it ran from close to her eye to right below her ear. Half an inch wide, it gaped open horribly, and every so often, Litharelen would convulse in a spasm of pain. Lily sat back on her heels.
She had looked at the diagram of the elf-nymph in the back of her new Anatomy book, and she was pretty certain that she knew at least the basics. There was a small vein that ran just along that line where Litharelen had been cut, and Lily only hoped to goodness it had not been severed. If it had, Litharelen had no hope; not even magic could heal that wound.
Lily unhooked her necklace and removed the stone, tucking it far into a pocket. The claws of the pendant weren't ideal for this purpose, but they were adequate. Lily was putting the delicate vein back into place when Tom appeared at the entrance of their shelter.
"Lily! Is she all right?"
"Don't bother me."
"Fine, fine. You know what you're doing?"
"Would you?"
"Absolutely not." Tom shook his head. "Never studied that."
"Hrmph." Lily frowned. "I'll be doing this solo, then. Keep watch at the door, and for God's sake hand me that extra pair of robes you're wearing. And your knife."
Tom complied, shooting a worried glance at Litharelen. As soon as he had vanished, however, Lily set to work frenziedly, cutting away chunks of the matted silver hair that was in danger of getting into the wound.
Then the more delicate work began; stitching up the gash with a makeshift needle. Lily made an note to herself never to go around without a needle in her pocket; using a homemade bone needle was terribly inconvenient.
It was dusky outside before Lily called Tom back in. She had meanwhile sent a jet of blue fire onto kindling leaves, and it was warmer inside, which was good, as the chilly night air started to set in. Tom entered, bending so as not to hit his head on rocks protruding from the ceiling. He made his silent way over to Litharelen, who was breathing more calmly now, and not so roughly.
"Is she all right?"
Lily nodded, though it was useless; he couldn't see her. "She'll be all right. It isn't too serious—well, it isn't now."
Tom nodded distractedly, letting out a large sigh of relief. He knelt down next to the motionless form on the bed, kissing her brow lightly, then taking her hand in his and sitting down next to her, his forehead pressed against her cold palm.
Quietly, Lily withdrew, replaced the stone in the golden claws, and returned to Hogwarts, slamming into the bed with a breath-taking thump.