Chapter twenty-one--
Alanna really had no plan, if she was honest with herself. She was really only just hoping that her healing Gift was as great as Maude assured her it was, that the gods would help her with this. However, she wouldn't admit this to herself or else she would panic. Instead she breathed deeply and traced fingers over the queen's white skin. The thin sheen of sweat was icy cold and the skin was clammy.
"So what are you going to do?" Jon asked, watching her doubtfully. Alanna tensed at the question. What WAS she going to do? Every time Maude had tried to teach her healing, she'd refused the lessons. Perhaps the only thing she knew about the sick that was a hot forhead meant a fever. So what did a cool forehead mean?
"How much strength do you have in you?" Alanna asked as she grasped the queen's hand. "Enough to try again, maybe?"
"Maybe," Jon repeated, but he didn't move. With a sigh, Alanna took the bedsheet and wiped the cool sweat from the queen's brow.
"How long has she been like this? What did the healers say?" She wondered if the palace healers knew that their queen was dying from sorcery.
"Failing health," Jon spat. "They said she has a weak immunity and maybe caught a disease or the food she ate was bad. Raoul tells me that she first fainted two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," Alanna said thoughtfully. She sighed again and gripped the queen's hands hard. "Here goes nothing," she mumbled.
Alanna closed her eyes. Beneath the stick-thin wrist was the faint pulse, barely there. It thumped feebly against Alanna's fingers. She searched deep, deep inside herself, drawing away from the living world and journeying inward. There it was, the small, flickering flame that she had touched only once in her life. Amazing that it still lived. In the great darkness it was pathetic, a mere spark really, lavender-colored and emitting the faintest light.
She nudged it. The flame sputtered for a second, and Alanna's breath caught. It grew. Alanna nudged the flame again and again it grew. Now the flame was a roaring fire of a brilliant violet hue. Alanna felt herself growing warm. The fire was so hot--she didn't want it to grow any larger. She was afraid of it now, afraid of herself.
Almost instantly the fire shrank.
'NO!' Alanna cried silently. She drew closer to the fire. 'Grow! By Mithros, GROW!'
This time she was entirely engulfed by the flames. The fire surged down her arms, tearing at the two limbs, scorching her muscles. Gritting her teeth, Alanna kept her hold on the queen.
"Heal," she managed to growl. "Heal her. Please, Goddess, help me to heal her!" Suddenly she remembered a prayer that Maude had uttered once, when Alanna was extremely ill with a raging fever. She forced the words through her lips.
Alanna felt an explosion within herself, and she screamed. Now she could not longer feel her arms--Alanna wasn't sure if she even HAD arms anymore. The pain of the fire was so great that all she could do was scream, and scream, and scream.
Something sprang up to fight her. Her violet fire was still pouring down her arms, but something...something was blocking it. A tingling sensation filled her hands when something began traveling UP her arms. Alanna gasped and opened her eyes. Like a line of ants marching upward, and orange glow spread over her two hands, inching higher.
"No!" Alanna cried. The glow was cold, so cold compared to the heat of her fire. The cold reminded her...reminded her of that time when she fell into the lake. When she had been five, her father took her ice skating and the lake opened beneath her feet, dragging her into the freezing abyss.
She did not wish to experience that again. Yet, that was what the glow felt like--icy cold water. Now her hands were frozen still. Where was her own gift, her violet light?
Alanna closed her eyes and searched. She pored, stumbled through the darkness for that violet flame. Where was it?? Panic seized her chest. How could she save the queen if she couldn't even save herself from that coldness? Alanna shivered. It was so, so cold.
Where was it?? Where was it?? She tripped through blackness, searching for the spark, for some symbol of her Gift. Why could she not find it? It had always been there, inside of her, a tiny heat warning her...no, REMINDING her of its powers. Where was the flame?
'Oh, goddess!' she prayed. 'Let me find it! Please, help me, Goddess!'
There! The violet fire, dancing and shrinking. Alanna pushed it this time, shoving it and collecting every ounce of willpower she possessed to FORCE it to grow.
"Heal," she muttered to herself. "Heal the queen." Inside her mind she imagined her faithful Gift fighting, overpowering the enemy sorcery and purging the queen of the evil presence. She imagined her own violet light encircling the dying queen like a halo, breathing life back into her being.
"Let it be so. Please, please let it be so!"
Alanna jerked her head sideways to see Jon, whose face was white with terror. She felt a tiny flicker of anger. Why was he simply standing there like an idiot??
"Come here Jon!" Alanna shouted. "Come here and help me!" She narrowed her eyes when he did not move. "JON! JONATHAN!"
Her outburst seemed to jarr him out of his trance. Jon stumbled forward to his mother's side, clasping his hands over Alanna's. Almost instantly a blue light seeped from his fingers. It intwined with Alanna's lavender streaks of color, the two hues pushing through the orange.
"Mithros," Jon choked. Alanna felt the coldness leave her arms only to be replaced by the scorching flames. The orange was fading, fading from the queen's body. She scarcely dared believe that they were succeeding.
"Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess," Alanna repeated under her breath, as if the word itself would call the Goddess to their aid.
Alanna felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest, as if she'd just been stabbed. She gasped, and the pain hit her again. Another stab, and another. The breath was knocked from her lungs. No, it felt as if a giant held her lungs between its huge hands and was squeezing, squeezing the life out of her.
No! The orange was reemerging! Alanna forced more of her Gift down her arms. To the queen, to the queen. She gave her Gift another shove.
She felt another surge of power down her arms before spots danced before her eyes. Her entire body screamed and convulsed. She was vaguely aware of somebody, perhaps Jon, shouting her name. She twisted and jerked. The pain was so great!!
"GODDESS!!!"
The world shattered, and Alanna knew no more.
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Somewhere in Scanra, a world away, Elijah felt a ripping pain in his chest, and he gasped as his ready steps faltered. The agony racked through him. He felt the blood draining from his face as he flailed. The world was suddenly spinning. He blinked, but his eyesight began to grow blurry around the edges. A hammer was pouding his head, the person determined to crush his skull.
"Elijah!" Vera cried, rushing to his side. "What's happening?"
"My Gift," he managed to cough. He felt his Gift disappearing. Who was stealing his Gift? Who dared to try steal his precious Gift?
"What do you mean??" Vera shouted as she saw his lids begin to droop. "What about your Gift? Elijah! Elijah!! Can you hear me, Elijah?"
"Y-yes," Elijah barked. "I f-feel..."
"Feel what? Feel what?"
A strange gurgling noise came from his throat. Vera gasped as blood trailed down his chin from his lips. More blood overflowed, following the trail down his chest, the path of blood.
The great sorcerer fell to the ground, the green grass beneath him turning bright red. A despairing cry came from his wife as his violet eyes dulled. She shook him roughly.
"Answer me! Awaken, Elijah!" she screamed. Grabbing his wrist, Vera ran her slim fingers over his wrist, desperately searching for a pulse.
Vera prayed that her fears would not be confirmed. She pressed his wrist, trying to find the sign of life. Again she ran her fingers over his wrist, his arm. She placed two fingers against the grooves of his neck.
There was nothing. The clearing was silent. A breeze murmured softly, mournfully through the trees, brushing consolingly over Vera, trying to convince her of that which she did not want to believe.
Elijah was gone.
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"Stupid," was the first word she heard as she struggled to open her eyes. Her eyelids seemed to weigh tons as she blinked them sluggishly, groaning because the light in the room was too bright.
"Stupid fool," Gary repeated. Alanna struggled to sit. Gently, Gary eased her back into the bed. She released that she was in a room that she'd never been in before. A friendly fire warmed the room from the hearth, and Gary sat in the chair at her bedside.
"How--" Alanna began before Gary silenced her with a spoonful of soup forced into her mouth. She sputtered, then swallowed the warm liquid.
"Eat first," he told her sternly. "I'll explain while you eat, alright?"
Obediently, Alanna nodded and opened her mouth again to tell him that she was capable of feeding herself when more soup was given to her.
"First of all, the queen is safe, and alive. And yes, she's awake," Gary said with a smile at Alanna's unasked question. "She is conscious and healthy. Well, considering."
"Considering what?" Alanna asked, then was quieted with more soup.
"Considering how long she's been unconscious," Gary explained. "So, more or less, she's fine. Weak, hungry, and all, but fine. You, on the other hand, caused everyone to worry like hell."
"Why?"
"Have you EVER even used your Gift before?" Gary demanded.
"No," Alanna admitted sheepishly. Gary nodded.
"As I thought. You were pouring your life-essence into healing the queen. Jon managed to knock you away before you killed yourself, but still...you could very well have died. You gave so much to the queen...it's a miracle that you're alive at all. The healers were stumped over it. I supposed that if you didn't put that much into healing the queen, she most likely would still be in the same state, but..." He bit his lip.
"I'm sorry if I worried you," Alanna said, touching his hand.
"You've slept for four days now," Gary said. "I was worried to death about you! Jon was exhausted after the spell, but not nearly as much as you. You--"
"Did you say FOUR days?" Alanna interuppted.
"Four days. I was sure you were going to die!" Gary said with a nod.
"Oh, no!" Alanna cried. "Bowen!!"
"Who?" asked Gary in confusion. "Who's Bowen?"
"I was supposed to meet him in the morning!" Alanna said as she tried to get out of bed. The second her feet touched the ground, Alanna felt her face turn white. Gary caught her as she fell and eased her gently back under the warm covers.
"You can't go anywhere for at least a week," he told her. "The healers' orders."
"No!" Alanna gasped. "I have to meet with Bowen!"
"Surely it can't be THAT important," Gary said with a frown. Alanna flushed, then smiled.
"No, it's not that important," she admitted.
"You've become quite the celebrity," said Gary with a grin. "Why, just about everyone's been clamoring in to see you. But I've kept them all out. Well, except for their majesties of course. The king and queen want to throw a ball in your honor when you wake up." He snorted. "And you'll just be SO fit for dancing."
"You're lying!" Alanna said with a laugh. "Really, they said that?"
"Yes, and I told them that I'd let you know as soon as you woke up."
Alanna cocked her head. "How long have you been sitting there. Surely not for the entire four days?"
"The past three days," Gary corrected. "The healers were all over you for the first day. After that Sir Myles convinced them that time was the only remedy. I snuck in on the second day, but they threw me out."
"They didn't!" Alanna grinned at the image of Gary being tossed out of the room.
"I kept trying to come back, though, so in the end they gave up."
"What do you mean?" Alanna craned her neck to look past him. "You mean there's guards outside my door?"
"Yep," Gary told her. "Two big, serious-faced men."
Alanna laughed. "Surely I can tell them that they shouldn't bother?"
"King's orders. Nobody is supposed to bother you during your 'rejuvenating sleep.'"
"Except you," Alanna cut in with a grin.
"Except me. Now open wide so you can finish off this soup," Gary ordered as he raised the spoon. Alanna obeyed eagerly.
"Can you do me a favor?" asked Alanna after she swallowed the spoonful. "Could you get a message to Bowen? You know...explaining what happened?"
"I doubt I'd need to do that. The entire country probably knows the story by now," Gary told her with a snort. "Just who is this Bowen, anyway?"
"A str--friend," Alanna said. Gary raised an eyebrow.
"A str-friend, eh?"
"A friend of mine," Alanna said, flushing. "And how exactly would "the entire country" know about what happened?"
"From what the people say, you'd think that you were a big, menacing enchantress with a pet raven on your shoulder and magical runes painted across your forhead. See, the guards outside the queen's door heard your scream, and they rushed for help. Everyone else in the castle heard it, too. They think you're a demonness."
"Wonderful for my image," Alanna muttered. "Things couldn't be better."
"On the bright side, they're grateful to you for curing the queen."
"Did my scream really sound that dreadful?"
"I wouldn't know. I didn't hear it," Gary said honestly. "Now, about this Bowen??"
"It's a long story," Alanna sighed.
Alanna really had no plan, if she was honest with herself. She was really only just hoping that her healing Gift was as great as Maude assured her it was, that the gods would help her with this. However, she wouldn't admit this to herself or else she would panic. Instead she breathed deeply and traced fingers over the queen's white skin. The thin sheen of sweat was icy cold and the skin was clammy.
"So what are you going to do?" Jon asked, watching her doubtfully. Alanna tensed at the question. What WAS she going to do? Every time Maude had tried to teach her healing, she'd refused the lessons. Perhaps the only thing she knew about the sick that was a hot forhead meant a fever. So what did a cool forehead mean?
"How much strength do you have in you?" Alanna asked as she grasped the queen's hand. "Enough to try again, maybe?"
"Maybe," Jon repeated, but he didn't move. With a sigh, Alanna took the bedsheet and wiped the cool sweat from the queen's brow.
"How long has she been like this? What did the healers say?" She wondered if the palace healers knew that their queen was dying from sorcery.
"Failing health," Jon spat. "They said she has a weak immunity and maybe caught a disease or the food she ate was bad. Raoul tells me that she first fainted two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," Alanna said thoughtfully. She sighed again and gripped the queen's hands hard. "Here goes nothing," she mumbled.
Alanna closed her eyes. Beneath the stick-thin wrist was the faint pulse, barely there. It thumped feebly against Alanna's fingers. She searched deep, deep inside herself, drawing away from the living world and journeying inward. There it was, the small, flickering flame that she had touched only once in her life. Amazing that it still lived. In the great darkness it was pathetic, a mere spark really, lavender-colored and emitting the faintest light.
She nudged it. The flame sputtered for a second, and Alanna's breath caught. It grew. Alanna nudged the flame again and again it grew. Now the flame was a roaring fire of a brilliant violet hue. Alanna felt herself growing warm. The fire was so hot--she didn't want it to grow any larger. She was afraid of it now, afraid of herself.
Almost instantly the fire shrank.
'NO!' Alanna cried silently. She drew closer to the fire. 'Grow! By Mithros, GROW!'
This time she was entirely engulfed by the flames. The fire surged down her arms, tearing at the two limbs, scorching her muscles. Gritting her teeth, Alanna kept her hold on the queen.
"Heal," she managed to growl. "Heal her. Please, Goddess, help me to heal her!" Suddenly she remembered a prayer that Maude had uttered once, when Alanna was extremely ill with a raging fever. She forced the words through her lips.
Alanna felt an explosion within herself, and she screamed. Now she could not longer feel her arms--Alanna wasn't sure if she even HAD arms anymore. The pain of the fire was so great that all she could do was scream, and scream, and scream.
Something sprang up to fight her. Her violet fire was still pouring down her arms, but something...something was blocking it. A tingling sensation filled her hands when something began traveling UP her arms. Alanna gasped and opened her eyes. Like a line of ants marching upward, and orange glow spread over her two hands, inching higher.
"No!" Alanna cried. The glow was cold, so cold compared to the heat of her fire. The cold reminded her...reminded her of that time when she fell into the lake. When she had been five, her father took her ice skating and the lake opened beneath her feet, dragging her into the freezing abyss.
She did not wish to experience that again. Yet, that was what the glow felt like--icy cold water. Now her hands were frozen still. Where was her own gift, her violet light?
Alanna closed her eyes and searched. She pored, stumbled through the darkness for that violet flame. Where was it?? Panic seized her chest. How could she save the queen if she couldn't even save herself from that coldness? Alanna shivered. It was so, so cold.
Where was it?? Where was it?? She tripped through blackness, searching for the spark, for some symbol of her Gift. Why could she not find it? It had always been there, inside of her, a tiny heat warning her...no, REMINDING her of its powers. Where was the flame?
'Oh, goddess!' she prayed. 'Let me find it! Please, help me, Goddess!'
There! The violet fire, dancing and shrinking. Alanna pushed it this time, shoving it and collecting every ounce of willpower she possessed to FORCE it to grow.
"Heal," she muttered to herself. "Heal the queen." Inside her mind she imagined her faithful Gift fighting, overpowering the enemy sorcery and purging the queen of the evil presence. She imagined her own violet light encircling the dying queen like a halo, breathing life back into her being.
"Let it be so. Please, please let it be so!"
Alanna jerked her head sideways to see Jon, whose face was white with terror. She felt a tiny flicker of anger. Why was he simply standing there like an idiot??
"Come here Jon!" Alanna shouted. "Come here and help me!" She narrowed her eyes when he did not move. "JON! JONATHAN!"
Her outburst seemed to jarr him out of his trance. Jon stumbled forward to his mother's side, clasping his hands over Alanna's. Almost instantly a blue light seeped from his fingers. It intwined with Alanna's lavender streaks of color, the two hues pushing through the orange.
"Mithros," Jon choked. Alanna felt the coldness leave her arms only to be replaced by the scorching flames. The orange was fading, fading from the queen's body. She scarcely dared believe that they were succeeding.
"Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess," Alanna repeated under her breath, as if the word itself would call the Goddess to their aid.
Alanna felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest, as if she'd just been stabbed. She gasped, and the pain hit her again. Another stab, and another. The breath was knocked from her lungs. No, it felt as if a giant held her lungs between its huge hands and was squeezing, squeezing the life out of her.
No! The orange was reemerging! Alanna forced more of her Gift down her arms. To the queen, to the queen. She gave her Gift another shove.
She felt another surge of power down her arms before spots danced before her eyes. Her entire body screamed and convulsed. She was vaguely aware of somebody, perhaps Jon, shouting her name. She twisted and jerked. The pain was so great!!
"GODDESS!!!"
The world shattered, and Alanna knew no more.
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Somewhere in Scanra, a world away, Elijah felt a ripping pain in his chest, and he gasped as his ready steps faltered. The agony racked through him. He felt the blood draining from his face as he flailed. The world was suddenly spinning. He blinked, but his eyesight began to grow blurry around the edges. A hammer was pouding his head, the person determined to crush his skull.
"Elijah!" Vera cried, rushing to his side. "What's happening?"
"My Gift," he managed to cough. He felt his Gift disappearing. Who was stealing his Gift? Who dared to try steal his precious Gift?
"What do you mean??" Vera shouted as she saw his lids begin to droop. "What about your Gift? Elijah! Elijah!! Can you hear me, Elijah?"
"Y-yes," Elijah barked. "I f-feel..."
"Feel what? Feel what?"
A strange gurgling noise came from his throat. Vera gasped as blood trailed down his chin from his lips. More blood overflowed, following the trail down his chest, the path of blood.
The great sorcerer fell to the ground, the green grass beneath him turning bright red. A despairing cry came from his wife as his violet eyes dulled. She shook him roughly.
"Answer me! Awaken, Elijah!" she screamed. Grabbing his wrist, Vera ran her slim fingers over his wrist, desperately searching for a pulse.
Vera prayed that her fears would not be confirmed. She pressed his wrist, trying to find the sign of life. Again she ran her fingers over his wrist, his arm. She placed two fingers against the grooves of his neck.
There was nothing. The clearing was silent. A breeze murmured softly, mournfully through the trees, brushing consolingly over Vera, trying to convince her of that which she did not want to believe.
Elijah was gone.
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"Stupid," was the first word she heard as she struggled to open her eyes. Her eyelids seemed to weigh tons as she blinked them sluggishly, groaning because the light in the room was too bright.
"Stupid fool," Gary repeated. Alanna struggled to sit. Gently, Gary eased her back into the bed. She released that she was in a room that she'd never been in before. A friendly fire warmed the room from the hearth, and Gary sat in the chair at her bedside.
"How--" Alanna began before Gary silenced her with a spoonful of soup forced into her mouth. She sputtered, then swallowed the warm liquid.
"Eat first," he told her sternly. "I'll explain while you eat, alright?"
Obediently, Alanna nodded and opened her mouth again to tell him that she was capable of feeding herself when more soup was given to her.
"First of all, the queen is safe, and alive. And yes, she's awake," Gary said with a smile at Alanna's unasked question. "She is conscious and healthy. Well, considering."
"Considering what?" Alanna asked, then was quieted with more soup.
"Considering how long she's been unconscious," Gary explained. "So, more or less, she's fine. Weak, hungry, and all, but fine. You, on the other hand, caused everyone to worry like hell."
"Why?"
"Have you EVER even used your Gift before?" Gary demanded.
"No," Alanna admitted sheepishly. Gary nodded.
"As I thought. You were pouring your life-essence into healing the queen. Jon managed to knock you away before you killed yourself, but still...you could very well have died. You gave so much to the queen...it's a miracle that you're alive at all. The healers were stumped over it. I supposed that if you didn't put that much into healing the queen, she most likely would still be in the same state, but..." He bit his lip.
"I'm sorry if I worried you," Alanna said, touching his hand.
"You've slept for four days now," Gary said. "I was worried to death about you! Jon was exhausted after the spell, but not nearly as much as you. You--"
"Did you say FOUR days?" Alanna interuppted.
"Four days. I was sure you were going to die!" Gary said with a nod.
"Oh, no!" Alanna cried. "Bowen!!"
"Who?" asked Gary in confusion. "Who's Bowen?"
"I was supposed to meet him in the morning!" Alanna said as she tried to get out of bed. The second her feet touched the ground, Alanna felt her face turn white. Gary caught her as she fell and eased her gently back under the warm covers.
"You can't go anywhere for at least a week," he told her. "The healers' orders."
"No!" Alanna gasped. "I have to meet with Bowen!"
"Surely it can't be THAT important," Gary said with a frown. Alanna flushed, then smiled.
"No, it's not that important," she admitted.
"You've become quite the celebrity," said Gary with a grin. "Why, just about everyone's been clamoring in to see you. But I've kept them all out. Well, except for their majesties of course. The king and queen want to throw a ball in your honor when you wake up." He snorted. "And you'll just be SO fit for dancing."
"You're lying!" Alanna said with a laugh. "Really, they said that?"
"Yes, and I told them that I'd let you know as soon as you woke up."
Alanna cocked her head. "How long have you been sitting there. Surely not for the entire four days?"
"The past three days," Gary corrected. "The healers were all over you for the first day. After that Sir Myles convinced them that time was the only remedy. I snuck in on the second day, but they threw me out."
"They didn't!" Alanna grinned at the image of Gary being tossed out of the room.
"I kept trying to come back, though, so in the end they gave up."
"What do you mean?" Alanna craned her neck to look past him. "You mean there's guards outside my door?"
"Yep," Gary told her. "Two big, serious-faced men."
Alanna laughed. "Surely I can tell them that they shouldn't bother?"
"King's orders. Nobody is supposed to bother you during your 'rejuvenating sleep.'"
"Except you," Alanna cut in with a grin.
"Except me. Now open wide so you can finish off this soup," Gary ordered as he raised the spoon. Alanna obeyed eagerly.
"Can you do me a favor?" asked Alanna after she swallowed the spoonful. "Could you get a message to Bowen? You know...explaining what happened?"
"I doubt I'd need to do that. The entire country probably knows the story by now," Gary told her with a snort. "Just who is this Bowen, anyway?"
"A str--friend," Alanna said. Gary raised an eyebrow.
"A str-friend, eh?"
"A friend of mine," Alanna said, flushing. "And how exactly would "the entire country" know about what happened?"
"From what the people say, you'd think that you were a big, menacing enchantress with a pet raven on your shoulder and magical runes painted across your forhead. See, the guards outside the queen's door heard your scream, and they rushed for help. Everyone else in the castle heard it, too. They think you're a demonness."
"Wonderful for my image," Alanna muttered. "Things couldn't be better."
"On the bright side, they're grateful to you for curing the queen."
"Did my scream really sound that dreadful?"
"I wouldn't know. I didn't hear it," Gary said honestly. "Now, about this Bowen??"
"It's a long story," Alanna sighed.