To:
White-Wolf: Well, if you say so. But I still think they're getting worse.
Ah, it occurred to me what I'm supposed to do now.
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Anonymous: It is answered in this chapter! Well, partially, anyway!
Dyana-of-Tortall: I go to sleep listening to LOTR! And am listening right now!
Lady Lizzy: *Blank look* um, ok, didn't understand 1st half of your review. Roger probably won't get stripped, though, because Jon still loves him and all, his temper was just flaring then. Alex won't be back for a while.
J.J. Hehe, no Alex still.Yes, I realize that I have converted many people to become Alex-lovers. I feel so good about my power over you minions (dance, puppets, dance!)
Karina: (phew, no french!) Well, I don't think George will figure out the Thom thing because George doesn't know about the Thom thing.
Tigress-of-Shang: After I solve a few other things first. Hmmm...not in the next chapter, and probably not in the one after that. So, let's say...maybe 5 chapters later? I dunno.
Eva eastborne (stop changing your pen name!!!! that makes it SOOO confusing for me!): Confused about what???? TELL ME! And about homework...must complete my mousetrapcar project, got 4 tests next week, and then I've got Science Olympiad (ug!).
Stine Sedai: (wonders, "does anybody READ their review before submitting it??") I kinda understood your review. yes, my homework keeps me up late, but only because in the afternoon, which is when I'm supposed to be doing it, I read. Then at night I do my homework. I hate my need to procrastinate!!
HAHA! Yes, Alanna IS such a player! Which is why she needs to fall for at least 2 more guys before the story is up! Except and can't seem to bring myself to do that...
smileypal4eva: Thank you for pointing out that Jon was acting out of character!!! But, that's what will happen when a parent you love a lot starts to die and your (evil) cousin won't let you visit them. He'll get over his i-hate-you-Roger phase soon and go back to let's-everybody-love-Roger.
Xelena: Same as smileypal4eva's message. He was just really angry. He'll apologize for is actions later. Unless my demonically-possessed hands disagree.
Ladyluck: *horrified* NO! If my story is bad, you must tell me so, not stop reviewing!!! Yes, no more library for poor, poor me. I'll have to be satisfied with reading my paperback copy of LOTR (the fellowship). Not that reading LOTR's a bad thing, just now I can't get any acess (CAN...not...SPELL today!!) to TP's book, as reference for this story. MAJOR MAJOR obstacle!! Anyway, more about Bowen in this chapter, and I don't HAVE a writing style (do i??)
RoseFyre,Chickensoup3, lara, Keita, and anyone else who reviewed: I LOVE YOU PEOPLE!!! Your reviews...um, I'm out of creative things to say. Your reviews make me so happy that I could...er...run through the streets naked, screaming your names!!! ok, maybe not.
AN: Not much to say. My right shoulder hurts....a lot! My newest TP fanfic obsession...k/J's! I mean, yeah Joren is such a jerk and all...but I have this thing with enemies falling in love w/each other!!!!
Longer AN at the end.
Chapter twenty--
Bowen shook his head as the lady left. She was strange, to say the least. Very strange indeed. Then there was that uncanny feeling that she gave him just by her presence. All in all, though, Bowen had sincerely enjoyed her company. She was so curious and young, so full of life, which was refreshing in comparison to the scheming old men he spent much of his time with lately.
"Who was the vivacious redhead?" a deep voice asked into his ear. "Your latest exploit? I don't think she's quite your type."
"Devin," Bowen said with a sigh. "Here I am. What's the emergency?"
"We here are in need of your...services," Devin told him, slipping into the seat across from him, the one that Alanna had occupied earlier.
"All of them?" Bowen raised an eyebrow. Devin chuckled, hitting the table.
"Ah, Bowen. Good to see your sense of humour is still well intact after that Galla incident. Good, indeed. Good to see that you made it here in one piece, though I didn't expect anything less. Your speed was excellent."
"I had a friend drop me by," Bowen responded. Devin arched both brows, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"'A friend?' Ah, then that must be Vera, the one who broke your heart not so long ago?"
Bowen gritted his teeth. "To business, Devin," he growled.
"But it is courteous to make small talk beforehand," Devin said. Bowen exhaled slowly and finished his drink.
"I've no time for small talk," said Bowen, using all of his will to keep his tone moderately civil. Devin grinned and stretched, putting his hands behind his head.
"Fine, fine. All work and no play, eh? Unless frolicking around with the redhead is your idea of play. She didn't look like the playful sort."
"Why did you send for me?" Bowen asked irritably. He was uncomfortable with Devin's not-so-subtle suggestions. "Are you going to hire me, or simply pass me on for...someone else?"
"You're quick, Bowen. Yes, it's not me, it's a...friend of mine," Devin replied. "This friend has been, well, let's just say there have been many attempts on his life recently."
"And you wish me to find the source of these attempts? Are we talking about the 'friend' I think we're talking about? Because you know how I would feel about that."
"Yes I do know," Devin said wearily, his fingers smoothing out his mustache. "But I believe you owe me a favor, as it were?"
"Why me?" Bowen asked bluntly.
"Because you're the best," Devin responded, flashing a dazzling smile. "Or are you not?"
"Why me?" Bowen repeated. The other sighed.
"These attempts have involved sorcery. I assume that you know much about sorcery, seeing as your--"
"You assume wrongly," Bowen interuppted curtly. "I shall have nothing to do with sorcery. If this involves sorcery of any sort, I will leave at once."
"You haven't heard of my proposal yet," Devin protested. "Your brother is a famed mage. Your, ah, friend also possesses a great Gift. You must have aquired knowledge, willingly or not, of the Gift. Do you deny this?"
"Yes," Bowen answered quickly.
"Then you lie," Devin concluded. "You were even raised by sorcerers. It would be impossible for you not to know anything of sorcery."
"I know nothing of sorcery," Bowen insisted. "I have no Gift. Now, what is your proposal?"
"Perhaps I should introduce you so my friend first?" Devin suggested. "Solom! Can we see George?"
"In a moment," Solom responded and disappeared. Moments later Bowen found himself trudging up the stairs, following the inkeeper, and then staring at a wooden door.
The door swung open and a hazel-eyed man greeted him goodnaturedly. He was perhaps in his twenties, and wore simple clothing. Bowen was startled. He didn't seem at all what he expected, though those expectations were unknown even to him.
"George, this is Bowen, who we talked about," Devin introduced, his tone careful. Bowen glanced at him sharply before turning to George.
"Bowen!" George exclaimed. "So you're Bowen. You're not exactly what I had in mind."
"Nor you, highness," Bowen responded, bowing.
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Jon muttered obscenities. Helplessly he sat, his head in his hands. Roger was impossible! She was his mother! He had the right to see her! The worst blow had been that his father agreed with roger. He released a string of curses into the air. Not that anyone was around to hear him. Jon sat against the wall, facing toward the garden.
He wanted to call Elijah but didn't know how. He'd never called on the sorcerer before. Nobody knew the mysterious healer, so there was no one to ask. Jon felt confident that Elijah was capable of healing his nearly-dying mother.
"Elijah, where are you?" he asked, his face turned heavenward. "I need your help."
"Highness?" a voice asked hesitatntly. Jon's head snapped up. By Mithros, his prayers had been answered! There he was, a small figue withe the morning light behind him, illuminating his red hair. Though his face was darkened in shadow, a pair of glittering violet eyes returned Jon's gaze. He stood quickly to greet the mage, then stopped short in dismay. The light had tricked his eyes. This wasn't Elijah. In disappointment Jon slid to the ground once again.
"Are you alright?" Alanna asked.
"Fine, fine." His tone was sarcastically bitter. Alanna eyed him skeptically. there were dark circles around his blue eyes. The glassy orbs focused lazily at a spot before them. His face was set with weary and worry lines. To say the least, the prince of Tortall did not look well.
"Are you sick?" Alanna asked. "You don't seem well. Perhaps you should see a healer?"
"It's my mother who needs a healer," Jon said heatedly. Alanna bit her bottom lip.
"I hear that she's really sick."
Jon's laughter came out as a harsh bark. "That's an understatement. They say that she's 'beyong healing.'"
"No one is beyong healing," Alanna remarked thinking of Thom. 'As long as there's life, there's still hope,' as Maude says."
"What hope? I'm no even allowed to see her."
"There IS still hope!" Alanna said brightly. "If she was really dying, they'd want you to see her. You know...one last time, before she passed out of this world."
"Or perhaps they're keeping me away because they think my presence might hasten her departure."
"They wouldn't," Alanna insisted. "But that's no reason to brood. I doubt you would have been able to help her much anyway."
"Well, THANK you, Lady Alanna, for your confidence in me and my gift."
Alanna was surprised. Here was Jon, not the prince, not Jonathan of Conte, but simply Jon. Gone was the arrogant air and rude words. Here was simply a loving son powerless to help his dying mother. Despite her dislike for him, Alanna felt a wave of pity and sympathy wash over her. She also began to doubt. Could she have been too hasty to judge him? Were her judgements, in fact, wrong?
"You ARE the prince," Alanna pointed out. "Have you tried simply marching up to her room and demanding to be let in?"
"No," Jon admitted. "But I doubt that would work."
"Why not?" Alanna asked. She hauled him to his feet. "We'll go right now. Do your best to look princely."
"Right now?" Jon asked incredulously as Alanna straightened his collar and ran her fingers through his black hair. She nodded and wiped his face. Giving his tunic one last tug, she turned.
"Lead on," Alanna said simply. Hesitantly Jon strode forward. He led them through areas of the palace that Alanna had never been to before. The hallways were narrower here, but richly painted and adorned. Tapestries hung from the walls, scenes with people who seemed to wink at her. Glancing upward, she noticed that the ceilings were painted in intricate patterns of blue and silver.
Alanna was so entraced by the designs of the ceiling that she didn't notice that Jon had paused, and she knocked into him. It was then that she saw two men standing beside a door, their arms crossed solemnly and expressions grim. Guards. The door was huge, painted gold and carved carefully.
"Prince Jonathan will see his mother now," Alanna said in a voice of authority that she didn't know she possessed. The guards glanced at each other.
"We were told not to let anyone in," the one to the right told her, his face twisting into apology.
"This is your prince and future king!" Alanna cried indignantly. "He orders you to allow him entrance. Do you dare to disobey him?"
The two guards shifted nervously. "Ai, now, but we daren't disobey the oders of his grace, Duke Roger, either. I'm sorry, majesty."
"Since when was the rank of a duke higher than that of the prince?" Alanna countered furiously. "You will let his majesty in or we shall bring the king, and he will not be happy to be pulled from his duties."
They paled visibly, but still their hands went to the swords fastened at their waists. "We've orders from the king as well," the guard to the left protested. He was a stocky youth with rosy skin and a broad forhead plastered with dusty blond hair. Alanna looked to Jon for help, but he was frozen solid.
"Allow the prince in or he will see you all punished for insubordination!!" Alanna all but shrieked. She did her best to look menacing.
The blond sighed and opened the door softly. "If you say so, Lady. Highness?"
Alanna pushed Jon through the door. He seemed to shake himself out of his trance. Alanna tried to slip through the door after him, but the guards quickly blocked the entrance.
"His highness only."
"Let her in," Jon's voice called from within the room. Reluctantly they let her pass. Alanna shut the door after her and winced at the cold click.
It took her several moments to adjust to the dimness of the room. The only light came from a tiny parting of the thick velvet curtains. She supposed that she was in the royal bedchambers, for the size of the room was large enough to fit a quarter of Trebond. The posts gigantic bed reached the high ceiling above and hanging from it was thin white cloth that trailed to the ground and surrounded the bed on all sides.Through the gauzy fabirc, Alanna could barely make out the shape of a woman.
Jon was at her side. Timidly Alanna stepped behind him. It was certainly the queen, though the physical resemblance was almost gone. The being laying there looked barely human. Her face was as white as the sheets she lay in and the skin so tightly stretched across her bones and hollow cheeks that she looked a bit like a skull. At first Alanna thought that she WAS dead, but then she saw the slight rise and fall of her chest that made a sound like wind rustling through leaves.
Alanna placed her hands on Jon's shoulders and felt that he was shaking. He lifted his face to look forlornly at her, and she saw that his face was streaked with tears. Alanna nearly felt her heart break.
"There's hope yet, Jon," Alanna whispered, though her words sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. "Perhaps you can still help her."
"How?" Jon whispered back, his usually self-assured voice faltering. "I'm not trained in my gift. Roger...Roger was right. What could I possibly do that he couldn't?"
"You still have to try," Alanna replied firmly. She took one of his hands and placed it on the queen's fighting the urge to shiver when she felt how cold and frail the hand was.
"What should I do?" Jon asked helplessly. Alanna took her hand away and clasped her necklace. Then she gasped. A bright orange light encircled the queen.
"Jon--" she began, but he didn't hear her. Alanna watched as a blue light flowed from his fingers and into the queen's hand. The energy traveled down her arm, pulsing before fading. The orange light began to fade. She began to smile as she saw more blue light emit from Jon. The color was so beautiful, so pure. It sparkled with life, life that Jon was giving back to his mother.
Alanna's smile disappeared as Jon jerked away, cradling his arm. The orange haze reappeared around the queen, stronger this time. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of Jon's ashen face.
"It's sorcery," Alanna said with startling understanding. "Someone with the Gift is doing this to her." So the pear George had almost eaten must have been poisoned. Now she knew what the colors had meant, how valuable her necklace was.
"Who would do something like that?" Jon asked softly.
"Isn't it obvious? Someone who hates the royal family, or hates Tortall, or simply the queen," Alanna replied matter-of-factly. Jon's eyes widened.
"But my mother has never been even unpolite to anyone! She has been nothing short of--"
"Kind," Alanna finished. "I know."
"What kind of sorcery?" Jon asked finally.
"I don't know," Alanna admitted. "Poison, maybe? But it's someone with an orange gift. Who do you know has an orange gift?"
"Roger," Jon said automatically. "But he would never harm my mother!"
"You're right," Alanna said slowly. "He has no reason to."
"He cares for my mother as much as I do! Maybe the orange you saw was the remains of Roger's attempt to heal her," Jon suggested.
"Most likely," Alanna said. "Or maybe it's someone else with an orange Gift."
But something nagged at her. Something about all this didn't feel...right somehow, as if she were overlooking some simple fact. Alanna glanced at the queen. There was the orange glow again, pulsing strongly around her.
"So what do we do now?" Jon asked, following her gaze. "This was our plan, wasn't it? Get in here and try to help her?"
"And we will," Alanna said, standing beside the queen. Jon frowned.
"I've already tried, and my help didn't do her any good," he said defeatedly.
A hint of a smile touched Alanna's lips, not a sign of amusement but that of sad surrender. She remembered what Maude had said, nine years ago.
"You've the talent for healing, Alanna," Maude had said. "Use the blessings the gods have given you."
For nine years Alanna had denied her Gift, shied from magic and repressed this side of her. Now it seemed that she had no choice but to used the tool and weapon that had always been a threat to her. She lightly touched the queen's forehead, then turned to Jon.
"It's my turn."
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AN: So, part of Bowen's mystery is solved, eh? And as soon as we get Alanna to use her Gift, the story can proceed.
Next chapter...will be pretty boring, I guess. For those of you who are hating me because Alex STILL isn't back...like I said, i can't bring him back until Jon's had his shot at Alanna. (chapter after next, maybe).
Sorry that this chapter was so short. Blame physics and my teachers. I HATE physics!!!!! ARg!
My next update might be next weekend, but probably not. I have 4 tests next week (none of which I have studied for) and my mousetrapcar project is due, and I have science olympiad. Then there's also my piano auditions. Grr.
See, i wasn't going to write this chapter until I ACTUALLY HAD TIME, but I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH that I made a sacriface.
I think this story is going to be longer than I thought. No WAY I'm going to finish this story in 15 chapters. Well, if I do, it'll be a hasty ending that leaves everyone unhappy.
So, maybe this story will be...oh, 40 chapters long?
Curse my inability to write short stories!!!!
Anybody have an idead for a k/j story? A SHORT one? Because I really really really want to write one!
That is all, people. Now be good little girls and boys and review. Now. At once. Push that little button down there that says "Go."
White-Wolf: Well, if you say so. But I still think they're getting worse.
Ah, it occurred to me what I'm supposed to do now.
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Anonymous: It is answered in this chapter! Well, partially, anyway!
Dyana-of-Tortall: I go to sleep listening to LOTR! And am listening right now!
Lady Lizzy: *Blank look* um, ok, didn't understand 1st half of your review. Roger probably won't get stripped, though, because Jon still loves him and all, his temper was just flaring then. Alex won't be back for a while.
J.J. Hehe, no Alex still.Yes, I realize that I have converted many people to become Alex-lovers. I feel so good about my power over you minions (dance, puppets, dance!)
Karina: (phew, no french!) Well, I don't think George will figure out the Thom thing because George doesn't know about the Thom thing.
Tigress-of-Shang: After I solve a few other things first. Hmmm...not in the next chapter, and probably not in the one after that. So, let's say...maybe 5 chapters later? I dunno.
Eva eastborne (stop changing your pen name!!!! that makes it SOOO confusing for me!): Confused about what???? TELL ME! And about homework...must complete my mousetrapcar project, got 4 tests next week, and then I've got Science Olympiad (ug!).
Stine Sedai: (wonders, "does anybody READ their review before submitting it??") I kinda understood your review. yes, my homework keeps me up late, but only because in the afternoon, which is when I'm supposed to be doing it, I read. Then at night I do my homework. I hate my need to procrastinate!!
HAHA! Yes, Alanna IS such a player! Which is why she needs to fall for at least 2 more guys before the story is up! Except and can't seem to bring myself to do that...
smileypal4eva: Thank you for pointing out that Jon was acting out of character!!! But, that's what will happen when a parent you love a lot starts to die and your (evil) cousin won't let you visit them. He'll get over his i-hate-you-Roger phase soon and go back to let's-everybody-love-Roger.
Xelena: Same as smileypal4eva's message. He was just really angry. He'll apologize for is actions later. Unless my demonically-possessed hands disagree.
Ladyluck: *horrified* NO! If my story is bad, you must tell me so, not stop reviewing!!! Yes, no more library for poor, poor me. I'll have to be satisfied with reading my paperback copy of LOTR (the fellowship). Not that reading LOTR's a bad thing, just now I can't get any acess (CAN...not...SPELL today!!) to TP's book, as reference for this story. MAJOR MAJOR obstacle!! Anyway, more about Bowen in this chapter, and I don't HAVE a writing style (do i??)
RoseFyre,Chickensoup3, lara, Keita, and anyone else who reviewed: I LOVE YOU PEOPLE!!! Your reviews...um, I'm out of creative things to say. Your reviews make me so happy that I could...er...run through the streets naked, screaming your names!!! ok, maybe not.
AN: Not much to say. My right shoulder hurts....a lot! My newest TP fanfic obsession...k/J's! I mean, yeah Joren is such a jerk and all...but I have this thing with enemies falling in love w/each other!!!!
Longer AN at the end.
Chapter twenty--
Bowen shook his head as the lady left. She was strange, to say the least. Very strange indeed. Then there was that uncanny feeling that she gave him just by her presence. All in all, though, Bowen had sincerely enjoyed her company. She was so curious and young, so full of life, which was refreshing in comparison to the scheming old men he spent much of his time with lately.
"Who was the vivacious redhead?" a deep voice asked into his ear. "Your latest exploit? I don't think she's quite your type."
"Devin," Bowen said with a sigh. "Here I am. What's the emergency?"
"We here are in need of your...services," Devin told him, slipping into the seat across from him, the one that Alanna had occupied earlier.
"All of them?" Bowen raised an eyebrow. Devin chuckled, hitting the table.
"Ah, Bowen. Good to see your sense of humour is still well intact after that Galla incident. Good, indeed. Good to see that you made it here in one piece, though I didn't expect anything less. Your speed was excellent."
"I had a friend drop me by," Bowen responded. Devin arched both brows, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"'A friend?' Ah, then that must be Vera, the one who broke your heart not so long ago?"
Bowen gritted his teeth. "To business, Devin," he growled.
"But it is courteous to make small talk beforehand," Devin said. Bowen exhaled slowly and finished his drink.
"I've no time for small talk," said Bowen, using all of his will to keep his tone moderately civil. Devin grinned and stretched, putting his hands behind his head.
"Fine, fine. All work and no play, eh? Unless frolicking around with the redhead is your idea of play. She didn't look like the playful sort."
"Why did you send for me?" Bowen asked irritably. He was uncomfortable with Devin's not-so-subtle suggestions. "Are you going to hire me, or simply pass me on for...someone else?"
"You're quick, Bowen. Yes, it's not me, it's a...friend of mine," Devin replied. "This friend has been, well, let's just say there have been many attempts on his life recently."
"And you wish me to find the source of these attempts? Are we talking about the 'friend' I think we're talking about? Because you know how I would feel about that."
"Yes I do know," Devin said wearily, his fingers smoothing out his mustache. "But I believe you owe me a favor, as it were?"
"Why me?" Bowen asked bluntly.
"Because you're the best," Devin responded, flashing a dazzling smile. "Or are you not?"
"Why me?" Bowen repeated. The other sighed.
"These attempts have involved sorcery. I assume that you know much about sorcery, seeing as your--"
"You assume wrongly," Bowen interuppted curtly. "I shall have nothing to do with sorcery. If this involves sorcery of any sort, I will leave at once."
"You haven't heard of my proposal yet," Devin protested. "Your brother is a famed mage. Your, ah, friend also possesses a great Gift. You must have aquired knowledge, willingly or not, of the Gift. Do you deny this?"
"Yes," Bowen answered quickly.
"Then you lie," Devin concluded. "You were even raised by sorcerers. It would be impossible for you not to know anything of sorcery."
"I know nothing of sorcery," Bowen insisted. "I have no Gift. Now, what is your proposal?"
"Perhaps I should introduce you so my friend first?" Devin suggested. "Solom! Can we see George?"
"In a moment," Solom responded and disappeared. Moments later Bowen found himself trudging up the stairs, following the inkeeper, and then staring at a wooden door.
The door swung open and a hazel-eyed man greeted him goodnaturedly. He was perhaps in his twenties, and wore simple clothing. Bowen was startled. He didn't seem at all what he expected, though those expectations were unknown even to him.
"George, this is Bowen, who we talked about," Devin introduced, his tone careful. Bowen glanced at him sharply before turning to George.
"Bowen!" George exclaimed. "So you're Bowen. You're not exactly what I had in mind."
"Nor you, highness," Bowen responded, bowing.
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Jon muttered obscenities. Helplessly he sat, his head in his hands. Roger was impossible! She was his mother! He had the right to see her! The worst blow had been that his father agreed with roger. He released a string of curses into the air. Not that anyone was around to hear him. Jon sat against the wall, facing toward the garden.
He wanted to call Elijah but didn't know how. He'd never called on the sorcerer before. Nobody knew the mysterious healer, so there was no one to ask. Jon felt confident that Elijah was capable of healing his nearly-dying mother.
"Elijah, where are you?" he asked, his face turned heavenward. "I need your help."
"Highness?" a voice asked hesitatntly. Jon's head snapped up. By Mithros, his prayers had been answered! There he was, a small figue withe the morning light behind him, illuminating his red hair. Though his face was darkened in shadow, a pair of glittering violet eyes returned Jon's gaze. He stood quickly to greet the mage, then stopped short in dismay. The light had tricked his eyes. This wasn't Elijah. In disappointment Jon slid to the ground once again.
"Are you alright?" Alanna asked.
"Fine, fine." His tone was sarcastically bitter. Alanna eyed him skeptically. there were dark circles around his blue eyes. The glassy orbs focused lazily at a spot before them. His face was set with weary and worry lines. To say the least, the prince of Tortall did not look well.
"Are you sick?" Alanna asked. "You don't seem well. Perhaps you should see a healer?"
"It's my mother who needs a healer," Jon said heatedly. Alanna bit her bottom lip.
"I hear that she's really sick."
Jon's laughter came out as a harsh bark. "That's an understatement. They say that she's 'beyong healing.'"
"No one is beyong healing," Alanna remarked thinking of Thom. 'As long as there's life, there's still hope,' as Maude says."
"What hope? I'm no even allowed to see her."
"There IS still hope!" Alanna said brightly. "If she was really dying, they'd want you to see her. You know...one last time, before she passed out of this world."
"Or perhaps they're keeping me away because they think my presence might hasten her departure."
"They wouldn't," Alanna insisted. "But that's no reason to brood. I doubt you would have been able to help her much anyway."
"Well, THANK you, Lady Alanna, for your confidence in me and my gift."
Alanna was surprised. Here was Jon, not the prince, not Jonathan of Conte, but simply Jon. Gone was the arrogant air and rude words. Here was simply a loving son powerless to help his dying mother. Despite her dislike for him, Alanna felt a wave of pity and sympathy wash over her. She also began to doubt. Could she have been too hasty to judge him? Were her judgements, in fact, wrong?
"You ARE the prince," Alanna pointed out. "Have you tried simply marching up to her room and demanding to be let in?"
"No," Jon admitted. "But I doubt that would work."
"Why not?" Alanna asked. She hauled him to his feet. "We'll go right now. Do your best to look princely."
"Right now?" Jon asked incredulously as Alanna straightened his collar and ran her fingers through his black hair. She nodded and wiped his face. Giving his tunic one last tug, she turned.
"Lead on," Alanna said simply. Hesitantly Jon strode forward. He led them through areas of the palace that Alanna had never been to before. The hallways were narrower here, but richly painted and adorned. Tapestries hung from the walls, scenes with people who seemed to wink at her. Glancing upward, she noticed that the ceilings were painted in intricate patterns of blue and silver.
Alanna was so entraced by the designs of the ceiling that she didn't notice that Jon had paused, and she knocked into him. It was then that she saw two men standing beside a door, their arms crossed solemnly and expressions grim. Guards. The door was huge, painted gold and carved carefully.
"Prince Jonathan will see his mother now," Alanna said in a voice of authority that she didn't know she possessed. The guards glanced at each other.
"We were told not to let anyone in," the one to the right told her, his face twisting into apology.
"This is your prince and future king!" Alanna cried indignantly. "He orders you to allow him entrance. Do you dare to disobey him?"
The two guards shifted nervously. "Ai, now, but we daren't disobey the oders of his grace, Duke Roger, either. I'm sorry, majesty."
"Since when was the rank of a duke higher than that of the prince?" Alanna countered furiously. "You will let his majesty in or we shall bring the king, and he will not be happy to be pulled from his duties."
They paled visibly, but still their hands went to the swords fastened at their waists. "We've orders from the king as well," the guard to the left protested. He was a stocky youth with rosy skin and a broad forhead plastered with dusty blond hair. Alanna looked to Jon for help, but he was frozen solid.
"Allow the prince in or he will see you all punished for insubordination!!" Alanna all but shrieked. She did her best to look menacing.
The blond sighed and opened the door softly. "If you say so, Lady. Highness?"
Alanna pushed Jon through the door. He seemed to shake himself out of his trance. Alanna tried to slip through the door after him, but the guards quickly blocked the entrance.
"His highness only."
"Let her in," Jon's voice called from within the room. Reluctantly they let her pass. Alanna shut the door after her and winced at the cold click.
It took her several moments to adjust to the dimness of the room. The only light came from a tiny parting of the thick velvet curtains. She supposed that she was in the royal bedchambers, for the size of the room was large enough to fit a quarter of Trebond. The posts gigantic bed reached the high ceiling above and hanging from it was thin white cloth that trailed to the ground and surrounded the bed on all sides.Through the gauzy fabirc, Alanna could barely make out the shape of a woman.
Jon was at her side. Timidly Alanna stepped behind him. It was certainly the queen, though the physical resemblance was almost gone. The being laying there looked barely human. Her face was as white as the sheets she lay in and the skin so tightly stretched across her bones and hollow cheeks that she looked a bit like a skull. At first Alanna thought that she WAS dead, but then she saw the slight rise and fall of her chest that made a sound like wind rustling through leaves.
Alanna placed her hands on Jon's shoulders and felt that he was shaking. He lifted his face to look forlornly at her, and she saw that his face was streaked with tears. Alanna nearly felt her heart break.
"There's hope yet, Jon," Alanna whispered, though her words sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. "Perhaps you can still help her."
"How?" Jon whispered back, his usually self-assured voice faltering. "I'm not trained in my gift. Roger...Roger was right. What could I possibly do that he couldn't?"
"You still have to try," Alanna replied firmly. She took one of his hands and placed it on the queen's fighting the urge to shiver when she felt how cold and frail the hand was.
"What should I do?" Jon asked helplessly. Alanna took her hand away and clasped her necklace. Then she gasped. A bright orange light encircled the queen.
"Jon--" she began, but he didn't hear her. Alanna watched as a blue light flowed from his fingers and into the queen's hand. The energy traveled down her arm, pulsing before fading. The orange light began to fade. She began to smile as she saw more blue light emit from Jon. The color was so beautiful, so pure. It sparkled with life, life that Jon was giving back to his mother.
Alanna's smile disappeared as Jon jerked away, cradling his arm. The orange haze reappeared around the queen, stronger this time. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of Jon's ashen face.
"It's sorcery," Alanna said with startling understanding. "Someone with the Gift is doing this to her." So the pear George had almost eaten must have been poisoned. Now she knew what the colors had meant, how valuable her necklace was.
"Who would do something like that?" Jon asked softly.
"Isn't it obvious? Someone who hates the royal family, or hates Tortall, or simply the queen," Alanna replied matter-of-factly. Jon's eyes widened.
"But my mother has never been even unpolite to anyone! She has been nothing short of--"
"Kind," Alanna finished. "I know."
"What kind of sorcery?" Jon asked finally.
"I don't know," Alanna admitted. "Poison, maybe? But it's someone with an orange gift. Who do you know has an orange gift?"
"Roger," Jon said automatically. "But he would never harm my mother!"
"You're right," Alanna said slowly. "He has no reason to."
"He cares for my mother as much as I do! Maybe the orange you saw was the remains of Roger's attempt to heal her," Jon suggested.
"Most likely," Alanna said. "Or maybe it's someone else with an orange Gift."
But something nagged at her. Something about all this didn't feel...right somehow, as if she were overlooking some simple fact. Alanna glanced at the queen. There was the orange glow again, pulsing strongly around her.
"So what do we do now?" Jon asked, following her gaze. "This was our plan, wasn't it? Get in here and try to help her?"
"And we will," Alanna said, standing beside the queen. Jon frowned.
"I've already tried, and my help didn't do her any good," he said defeatedly.
A hint of a smile touched Alanna's lips, not a sign of amusement but that of sad surrender. She remembered what Maude had said, nine years ago.
"You've the talent for healing, Alanna," Maude had said. "Use the blessings the gods have given you."
For nine years Alanna had denied her Gift, shied from magic and repressed this side of her. Now it seemed that she had no choice but to used the tool and weapon that had always been a threat to her. She lightly touched the queen's forehead, then turned to Jon.
"It's my turn."
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AN: So, part of Bowen's mystery is solved, eh? And as soon as we get Alanna to use her Gift, the story can proceed.
Next chapter...will be pretty boring, I guess. For those of you who are hating me because Alex STILL isn't back...like I said, i can't bring him back until Jon's had his shot at Alanna. (chapter after next, maybe).
Sorry that this chapter was so short. Blame physics and my teachers. I HATE physics!!!!! ARg!
My next update might be next weekend, but probably not. I have 4 tests next week (none of which I have studied for) and my mousetrapcar project is due, and I have science olympiad. Then there's also my piano auditions. Grr.
See, i wasn't going to write this chapter until I ACTUALLY HAD TIME, but I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH that I made a sacriface.
I think this story is going to be longer than I thought. No WAY I'm going to finish this story in 15 chapters. Well, if I do, it'll be a hasty ending that leaves everyone unhappy.
So, maybe this story will be...oh, 40 chapters long?
Curse my inability to write short stories!!!!
Anybody have an idead for a k/j story? A SHORT one? Because I really really really want to write one!
That is all, people. Now be good little girls and boys and review. Now. At once. Push that little button down there that says "Go."