Wallmaker
By DaemonAvatar
When the Ninth Gate calls,
Who can resist its summons?
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me- NADA!
** As Hedge said last chapter, I'm back! Right now I will be answering the reviewers of doom! Well actually, only one but that's okay!
EowynDernhelm: Thank you so much! Well, the "I'm back" was supposed to sound Hugo Weaving-ish (Matrix, LOTR). Also if you collect Games Workshop™ LOTR figures (The tiny strategy figures that you paint and set on a battleground) I have thirty of every design of Uruk Hai (this is how I spent my money in seventh grade) and the Sauron figure- My dark army is undefeatable- too bad I only have five riders of Rohan. I really got off topic- sorry.
Well, we will begin the next chapter of doom. Turns into Mogget and laughs hysterically**
* * * *
Unconsciously, Nick was thinking of Lirael's "adventure" with him to Ancelstierre. (A/N: This is a flashback, so it will seem like it is happening right now.) They had taken a paperwing across the wall. They had been greeted jovially by the perimeter troops on their way in. Recognizing Nick, one of the sergeants had invited them for tea at his mother's house. Holding barely contained laughter, they had said, "Thanks, but no."
Their actual destination was Corvere, to meet Nick's father and uncle to negotiate the wall-crossing Southerlings. He now did not doubt their wisdom upon the subject of sending innocent people to their deaths like lambs to the slaughter, Nick sarcastically thought (A/N: If you are confused, it means that they were good at sending people to their deaths.) Nick sometimes wondered how he, at one point, could have been as foolhardy as he now realized the Ancelstierrians were. He dreamily looked out of the window of the bus they were taking to Corvere. Then he saw it. Fifth gate demons were running at an inhuman speed in the forest next to the bus, seemingly following them. Nick glanced at Lirael, checking if she had seen the drifters. She had. And then it happened. Lirael's gasped, not out of surprise, but something else. Nick ran across the aisle and asked, "Lirael, what's happened?"
"We have to turn this bus around! There's a GREAT dead on the road ahead, with two free magic elementals."
"I'll take care of the driver. Just sit here and think of a way you can delay them."
Nick was on the situation. "Driver, turn the bus around, right now. This is serious- we have to report back to the perimeter. Now."
"Whit if ah don't want ta," the driver drawled in a Scottish accent.
"Turn the damn bus around or I'll shoot you where you stand."
"There'r beastie's at the parimater, boy. Don't ya know anythin'."
"I can hurt you much more than any "beastie" can. Get moving."
As the bus skidded around on one tire, a red-armored man ran faster than any dead could run and jumped on top of the bus. Balancing precariously on the top of the skidding bus, Hedge flicked out two arm- blades. Against the wind he walked to the front of the bus and began pounding upon the roof with his blades. The first strike came clear through the roof of the bus, impaling the driver's head and killing him immediately. Hedge neatly cut a square in the ceiling of the bus, only to be met with a charter spelled sword that dislodged him from his dangerous position. The driver's foot, inexorably pushed to the gas pedal, ran over Hedge's thin-boned form with the bus. After that pleasant experience, Hedge snapped up, ripping his stomach muscles. He cried, "I am Hedge! I will have my revenge!"
And with that the Nicholas in the bed fell into a deeper state of unconsciousness, forgetting what happened after.
* * * *
Mogget too was sleeping. And he too was remembering. He remembered Rogir, he remembered Terciel, but he remembered the great charters, and the bells. He remembered Astarael's sorrowful form and Kibeth's joyful hound form. But he was Yrael, the cat. For some strange reason, he actually enjoyed being called Mogget and actually wanted to be scratched behind the ears, like Kibeth. But he most of all, wanted to be free. Free of everything, his cat form, his bond to the Abhorsens. He cursed the charters that had imprisoned him, always planning for themselves. He rather thought of them as an immature girl's clique, from the stories Sabriel told him of Ancelstierre. But the funny thing was, was that he wanted a bell named after him. Yes, a bell. So people would remember him, think of his point of view in the making- the Seven could have done and did without him. He hadn't done anything to them, but they put him in this prison, this torture- the worst was the dwarf boy form he took on when serving Terciel. Only if that idiot Sameth would look, he would make a new bell for Mogget. Yrael chuckled inwardly at the thought of a bell called Mogget. Sameth could have even made a more powerful bell, Orranis. What an idiot. When he figures out he's Wallmaker, he doesn't even consider the bells for a second. In fact, Mogget should inform him right now that he should make a bell. He took it for granted that everyone would appreciate his absence. He had worked hard to make it that way. Why he might even tell his favorite prince that he could bring back Kibeth. And make a charter fish. Yum. (A/N: This is not OOC- We have no way of knowing what Mogget is thinking. Plus, I think Sam is Mogget's favorite Prince- they get along ^_^)
"Sending, come here at once. I am leaving the premises tonight. I am going to the palace in Belisaere. If the Abhorsen comes, redirect me at once."
The sending nodded and turned around, the perfect example of docile obedience. Mogget donned the form of an albino raven and flew out of the Abhorsen's house to Sameth, and Belisaere.
**How do you like it?! Please read and review- PLEASE! I have worked hard. Anything!**
By DaemonAvatar
When the Ninth Gate calls,
Who can resist its summons?
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me- NADA!
** As Hedge said last chapter, I'm back! Right now I will be answering the reviewers of doom! Well actually, only one but that's okay!
EowynDernhelm: Thank you so much! Well, the "I'm back" was supposed to sound Hugo Weaving-ish (Matrix, LOTR). Also if you collect Games Workshop™ LOTR figures (The tiny strategy figures that you paint and set on a battleground) I have thirty of every design of Uruk Hai (this is how I spent my money in seventh grade) and the Sauron figure- My dark army is undefeatable- too bad I only have five riders of Rohan. I really got off topic- sorry.
Well, we will begin the next chapter of doom. Turns into Mogget and laughs hysterically**
* * * *
Unconsciously, Nick was thinking of Lirael's "adventure" with him to Ancelstierre. (A/N: This is a flashback, so it will seem like it is happening right now.) They had taken a paperwing across the wall. They had been greeted jovially by the perimeter troops on their way in. Recognizing Nick, one of the sergeants had invited them for tea at his mother's house. Holding barely contained laughter, they had said, "Thanks, but no."
Their actual destination was Corvere, to meet Nick's father and uncle to negotiate the wall-crossing Southerlings. He now did not doubt their wisdom upon the subject of sending innocent people to their deaths like lambs to the slaughter, Nick sarcastically thought (A/N: If you are confused, it means that they were good at sending people to their deaths.) Nick sometimes wondered how he, at one point, could have been as foolhardy as he now realized the Ancelstierrians were. He dreamily looked out of the window of the bus they were taking to Corvere. Then he saw it. Fifth gate demons were running at an inhuman speed in the forest next to the bus, seemingly following them. Nick glanced at Lirael, checking if she had seen the drifters. She had. And then it happened. Lirael's gasped, not out of surprise, but something else. Nick ran across the aisle and asked, "Lirael, what's happened?"
"We have to turn this bus around! There's a GREAT dead on the road ahead, with two free magic elementals."
"I'll take care of the driver. Just sit here and think of a way you can delay them."
Nick was on the situation. "Driver, turn the bus around, right now. This is serious- we have to report back to the perimeter. Now."
"Whit if ah don't want ta," the driver drawled in a Scottish accent.
"Turn the damn bus around or I'll shoot you where you stand."
"There'r beastie's at the parimater, boy. Don't ya know anythin'."
"I can hurt you much more than any "beastie" can. Get moving."
As the bus skidded around on one tire, a red-armored man ran faster than any dead could run and jumped on top of the bus. Balancing precariously on the top of the skidding bus, Hedge flicked out two arm- blades. Against the wind he walked to the front of the bus and began pounding upon the roof with his blades. The first strike came clear through the roof of the bus, impaling the driver's head and killing him immediately. Hedge neatly cut a square in the ceiling of the bus, only to be met with a charter spelled sword that dislodged him from his dangerous position. The driver's foot, inexorably pushed to the gas pedal, ran over Hedge's thin-boned form with the bus. After that pleasant experience, Hedge snapped up, ripping his stomach muscles. He cried, "I am Hedge! I will have my revenge!"
And with that the Nicholas in the bed fell into a deeper state of unconsciousness, forgetting what happened after.
* * * *
Mogget too was sleeping. And he too was remembering. He remembered Rogir, he remembered Terciel, but he remembered the great charters, and the bells. He remembered Astarael's sorrowful form and Kibeth's joyful hound form. But he was Yrael, the cat. For some strange reason, he actually enjoyed being called Mogget and actually wanted to be scratched behind the ears, like Kibeth. But he most of all, wanted to be free. Free of everything, his cat form, his bond to the Abhorsens. He cursed the charters that had imprisoned him, always planning for themselves. He rather thought of them as an immature girl's clique, from the stories Sabriel told him of Ancelstierre. But the funny thing was, was that he wanted a bell named after him. Yes, a bell. So people would remember him, think of his point of view in the making- the Seven could have done and did without him. He hadn't done anything to them, but they put him in this prison, this torture- the worst was the dwarf boy form he took on when serving Terciel. Only if that idiot Sameth would look, he would make a new bell for Mogget. Yrael chuckled inwardly at the thought of a bell called Mogget. Sameth could have even made a more powerful bell, Orranis. What an idiot. When he figures out he's Wallmaker, he doesn't even consider the bells for a second. In fact, Mogget should inform him right now that he should make a bell. He took it for granted that everyone would appreciate his absence. He had worked hard to make it that way. Why he might even tell his favorite prince that he could bring back Kibeth. And make a charter fish. Yum. (A/N: This is not OOC- We have no way of knowing what Mogget is thinking. Plus, I think Sam is Mogget's favorite Prince- they get along ^_^)
"Sending, come here at once. I am leaving the premises tonight. I am going to the palace in Belisaere. If the Abhorsen comes, redirect me at once."
The sending nodded and turned around, the perfect example of docile obedience. Mogget donned the form of an albino raven and flew out of the Abhorsen's house to Sameth, and Belisaere.
**How do you like it?! Please read and review- PLEASE! I have worked hard. Anything!**