To Kirjava: Thanks for you're reviews and critiques! I'm rather fond of Remmie myself. Magicians have a way of charming people I've noticed. I've been looking in a few bookstores for the Wredes Lyra books, but I haven't been able to find it. I'm determined to read it though, and finish the Windsinger trilogy then I'll read your story. It looks really interesting. :D Again, thanks for reviewing.
To DumbOldDork, Russetwolf713, AerinBrown, placid wind, and all the reviewers who have followed this story since the beginning – a thousand thank you's! Here's your chapter.
Author's Note: I did have writers block on this so if it isn't as good as my previous ones forgive me. I kept on re-writing this chapter cause I was never happy with the descriptions.
Chapter 7: In Which are Palace Plots and Impossible ImpsA diagram spell is actually rather simple in principle. However, as you might already know, principle and physical actuality can be two completely different things.
"Stand back," Gavin said to Daystar, "This might take awhile."
This particular magic requires utter preciseness in size, circumference and timing. One must never cease in the middle constructing a diagram. Once committed to the spell, it must be finished to completion - for an unfinished diagram can fetch very terrible results indeed. Many a magician had lost his life rather foolishly in experimenting with incomplete diagrams (proving that dunces are not merely products of inferior purple blood).
Daystar yawned and watched Gavin painstakingly draw out the diagram. They were just out of the Enchanted Forest and the young prince was enjoying the view of vast blue sky. It was grassy fields almost as far as the eye could see, and to one side sat the city of Dunleen, Arsta's capital. Gavin's kingdom. Behind the city loomed the Royal Castle with its high needle towers, thick stonewalls and stained glass windows. Earlier, Daystar had questioned his friend on how they would be received in the town. Instead of turning merely himself invisible, Gavin had decided that it would be best if Daystar vanish as well.
Drawing one diagram is hard enough but two lends a new level to difficult. Gavin was about halfway through; sweat was breaking on his forehead. A small frown appeared between his eyebrows as every particle of concentration focused on the drawing in front of him. It appeared to be a six-pointed star, a flower with nine petals and a closed eye.
Daystar knew a little about Diagram magic, but not much. Not many used this form, due to the fact that once the diagram was drawn, it had to be kept in constant thought in the artist's mind, else the spell dissipate. Keeping constant thought on the diagram was similar to having the feeling you forgot something- or so Gavin had said. It had to be placed in a corner of the mind, so to speak.
Two birds sung their lilting trill up above, twirling their happy dance in the sky. Clouds sailed on steadily, their forms changing as each moment passed. Then, finally, wiping sweat from his forehead, Gavin straightened up with a look of evident relief. The diagram was complete. Doing a strange motion with his hand, the diagram disappeared, and with it, the middle prince of Arsta and heir to the Enchanted Forest.
"Well what do you know?" Gavin said after a moment with surprise, "it worked!"
"Please don't say," Daystar replied with a pained voice, "…that you never tried this before?"
"You really want to know?" Gavin asked, his grin audible in his tone of voice. Daystar wisely chose not to answer.
With the solution of their identity solved by the prince's talents, it was a simple job of avoiding body contact with any persons they came across. Dodging through the populace of Dunleen, and after a few minutes walk from the city, the two found themselves gazing up at the Royal palace. The castle was surrounded by a large moat. Four feet stonewalls surrounded the moat entirely - except for a large gateway which opened only when the drawbridge was let down. Unfortunately for them the drawbridge was up. There was no way to get in through the drawbridge without attracting suspicion!
Then Gavin reached out and found Daystar's hand. Placing it on his shoulder the prince said softly, "Don't let go." Feeling around the stones, Gavin searched for a familiar smooth, round rock. Finding it, he pushed and a small part of the bottom section of the wall slid back revealing an unused staircase. "It always helps to think ahead, doesn't it, Daystar old friend?"
Looking around them to make sure no one had been watching, the two princes proceeded down the secret passageway. It was dark and damp. The well-packed dirt floor muddy from leaks as they wound through the tube-like space that had been made under the moat. Small things skittered and slid through the slushy mud. Their boots made a sucking sound and a loud drip and trickling of water could be heard. There was a faint yet distinctly unpleasant stench through the whole trek of the underground tunnel. Gavin was glad when they neared the other set of stairs. Walking carefully, his hands searched the air in front of him. He was looking for a metal lever and knew it was near – he could smell the rust. It was challenging with Daystar clinging to his shoulder so tightly but finally he found it and pulled. With a grating sound so loud that Gavin winced and prayed fervently that no one heard, the rusty metal door swung open on its hinges. They waited in silence – not even breathing. When they heard no cries of alarm or ring of swords from their scabbards, they proceeded up the stairs with more confidence.
They were in the dungeons. Gavin had found this passageway a year back, running away from and overzealous princess and her un-princesslike intentions. Why the Royal Architect would build escape passages from the dungeons was beyond Gavin, but he had been very grateful when he had first found it.
"Lets get out of here, Gavin," Daystar whispered behind him as the door behind them slid shut, "dungeons make my flesh creep."
With a murmur of assent, the prince led the way out of the room filled with rusty chains and manacles. There hadn't been a prisoner in the dungeons of Arsta for years and they had fallen into disuse. After instructing Daystar to wipe all the dirt from his shoes as not to leave tracks, Gavin placed his hand on his shoulder again and they set off. He spun his head sharply when he heard loud voices and the light of a flickering torch down one end of the hallway. Leading Daystar into an unobtrusive corner, Gavin waited, frowning. What sort of business would anyone have in the dungeons? As the voices drew nearer the prince was able to make out words.
"I didn't do anything!" a voice sobbed. "Let me go sir!"
There was a harsh laugh and a deeper voice said with obvious ill intent, "What did you see, boy? There's no point in keeping silence, why don't you tell me? I'll end your pitiful life swiftly and you can join the rest of your family."
"But I had nothing to do with it! I didn't see anything!"
"Wrong answer, boy." There was a dull thump and a strangled whimper. "I'm getting tired of your stubbornness. I'm sure you will recall certain incidents after a few hours on the rack."
The torchlight bobbed into view and Gavin was able to get his first look at whom the voices belonged to. His scowl deepened. One was a man with heavily scarred skin and dark hair named Warkund, Captain of the castle's garrison. Behind him were five of his knights, attired in their customary armor and visors. Two of the knights were dragging a peasant boy, no older then sixteen. Tears were streaming down his face and blood flowed heavily from his nose. There was something odd about the peasant but Gavin couldn't put a name to it.
"Hook him up. He's going to tell me everything he knows, or he's going to live the rest of his life horribly and permanently disfigured." The peasant was sobbing silently, his emancipated body shaking with fear.
Gavin forced down the strangled cries of outrage. He was very close to loosing control.
"Time for a little fun, gentlemen," the captain said as he closed the heavy dungeon door the two princes had just come through. The knights' laughs echoed through the empty dungeon walls.
All thought flew from Gavin's head as he leaped out of Daystars grip with grim intentions but the other prince grabbed his arm. "No Gavin!" Daystar whispered urgently, "There's too many! We can't fight five seasoned knights! And did you see those scars on that man's face? We won't stand a chance!"
"That boy is one of my subjects Daystar!" Gavin whispered back heatedly, "My father would never authorize the torture of a boy no matter what he did!" He strained to pull out of Daystar's grip. Gavin glared at the prince his eyes spoke strongly how he felt – and what he planned to do.
"Then think Gavin!" Daystar replied, not flinching from the prince's angry stare, "Your father would never do that, so obviously those guards are not working for him! Your authority as prince wouldn't count as anything to them! If you really want t save the boy, don't go fighting seasoned knights when it's hopeless!" If he had been given a moment longer, Gavin probably would have heard Daystar's words and realized their validity, had the peasant boy not screamed at that moment. His control rather flew to pieces at that point.
"No!" Gavin cried loudly, his voice reverberating from the walls. Daystar started swearing under his breath. Things were going steadily downhill.
The door to the dungeon clanged open as four of the knight's burst from the door, armed, looking for the intrusion. Their eyes focused on the two grubby young men in the corner. Daystar's swearing doubled. He could have hit Gavin. The dolt had lost of their invisibility spell! The one advantage they had had was stealth and now it was lost. He drew his sword.
Finally wrenching his arm from Daystar's grip, Gavin drew his own sword with a snarl of rage. His mind was a haze of confusion and fury. Gavin wasn't usually one who lost control, but the sight of the tear-stained face of the peasant boy had pushed him to the edge – and over. He met the blows of a knight with his own, arching his sword downward to hit the knight. His attacks just bounced off the armor harmlessly. Then a particularly strong slash of his opponent's broadsword had him stumbling back off-balance. A steel fist came and hit him in the stomach. Gavin fell onto the floor in a heap, his sword skittering out of his grasp. A rough hand grabbed his arm, dragging him up and he was kicked once more in the belly. Doubling over with a gasp his hand went involuntarily to the pocket, which he kept the stone in. The stone! His brain reacted strongly, practically screaming that it must not get into the hands of his captors. With his last ounce of strength he drew the stone out of his pocket and was able to let out a choked "Daystar!" before he threw the orb in his friend's direction. Then his world turned black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~~~
They had traveled for miles and miles across a thousand countries – or so it seemed to Aerida – except those thousands of miles were only the unending moss-filled ground of the Enchanted Forest. Every step they took the scenery never changed from the ancient forms of looming trees. To top it all were her conflicting feelings for the young magician walking beside her. She had caught herself numerous times during the past day or so staring at him. Whenever an idle moment was upon her, her gaze seemed to drift to Remanan involuntarily. There was something about him… Aerida shook her head. She was not going to start this again. Setting her jaw she stared ahead, forcing her mind to turn to other matters.
There was something decidedly wrong with the forest, Remanan decided. For one thing, the natural sounds weren't there and the constant breeze that always made the leaves dance seemed to be absent. Their crunching soles on the leaves and moss were the only sound he heard – all bad signs. His frown deepened as he scanned the forests surroundings. It was the same for all his eyes could see, stillness. Almost as life had been frozen in a lifelike painting.
"What was that?" Aerida said beside him. "Did you hear that?"
Remanan did not answer, but scanned the forest more intensely, unease growing at each moment. Then he felt it. "Demons!"
Bursting forth from the forest, they came, heinous specters of Abaddon. Their faces were angular with curled horns and sharp fangs. An arm's length, with bat-like wings and arms akin to an octopus' tentacles, they made a sort of jabbering noise. Darkness swirled around them like mist, making it hard to tell where they began and where they ended.
Beside him, Shera gasped and groped around for a weapon – any weapon. Aerida drew a dagger from her boot that she always carried, and Shaira gripped a large stick with one hand.
Belvio blew out a great jet of fire, turning three demons to ash and soot.
"Fulmen!" cried Remanan, his arm outstretched and pointed at a demon. A bolt of lightning struck from his fingers illuminating the darkness around the creatures and the magician cast another spell, killing two. They were fast, Remanan admitted, and try though he might the demons dodged most of his enchantments with surprising swiftness. Beside him, his companions were doing no better, merely warding the creatures off with their weapons. Belvio seemed to be the only one who was unaffected. Dread grew in him as he realized that the demons were holding back, merely toying with them. He had met creatures like these before – Imps, and had escaped with his life, though barely. What were they doing in a forest? Remanans eyes narrowed as he cast another bolt of lighting; there was more than met the eye here. An Imp shot forward and dodged the shot of light aimed in its direction. This wasn't working. All demons hated light, that was a common knowledge, but how would he gather enough light to ward them off, without blinding him and his friends in the process? Remanan clenched his teeth, there was no other way; he would merely have to pray his friends would survive.
The demons struck.
Sweat formed on Shera's brow as
she swung at the creatures before her again and again but to no avail. Her arm was growing tired; she couldn't go
on with this for much longer. The cloud
of demons that had been one swarming mass suddenly split, and rushed forward,
their awful jabbering taking on a different note. If she had thought they were elusive before, Shera found they
became impossible to follow with naked eye.
Merely waving her weapon in whichever direction, she shut her eyes, her
throat tight with desperation. She felt
sharp needle-like pricks and sharp pinches that left her nauseous; all the
while the Imps' chatter filled the air around her. Her attacks grew feebler, her breathing hoarse. Then, even though her eyes were closed, she
saw the flare of intense light that blazed in the air around her. The Imps shrieked, it was a terrible
sound. The light increased, and Shera
felt her hair stand on end. Dropping
her weapon, she covered her eyes with her hands. A strong wind started, muffling the screams of the Imps. Gradually, their cries faded and then so did
the wind and light.
After what seemed an eternity, all was silent except for their heavy breathing. Shera opened her eyes warily. There was no trace of the demons. On her left Remanan was bent over, his hands shaking badly. To her right, Belvio suddenly gasped and Shera turned to see Aerida collapse to the ground. Her face was pale and stretched and for a dreadful moment Shera thought the worst until she saw the small rise and fall of her friend's chest. Taking a sudden step forward, Shera's head filled with sudden dizziness, and she dropped to one knee, her hands on her forehead. Her friends had similar reactions. Shiara moaned, swaying on the spot and would have fallen, had Belvio not been directly behind her. Shera had never felt so sick.
"We…
must…not…" Remanan managed weakly. "We
cannot… stay…must leave here…there's…poison……Imps have poison… must get it
out…" He groaned as a wave of nausea hit him.
Though fear threatened to grip her mind at Remanan's revelation, Shera forced it down to the pit of her stomach. The magician's words rang true, but none of them had the strength to go anywhere. The demons' poison was seeing to that. Aerida was in the most danger, her body already giving into the poison and if the antidote was not found soon..… Shera pushed that grave thought aside and tried to think despite the spinning in her head. Belvio appeared to be the only one unaffected for some reason. Most likely his scales, the princess reasoned. "Rem – Remanan," Shera murmured, "how do you get the –" she broke off as sudden pain in her head twisted like a knife. "How do you get the poison out?" she said finally, between clenched teeth.
It took awhile for Remanan to answer but she was able to
make out the words "Avendascura" - a rare flower that grows beside lakes and
pools and "midnight" – the length of time they had before the poison killed
them. That gave them six hours, Shera
calculated. Things weren't looking very
good. Mustering up the remaining
strength she had, she called the dragon.
"Belvio, you heard what Remanan said…
Find it… quickly."
"Me? Why me?" Belvio begged plaintively. The poor dragon was near panic himself.
Shera
shot him a glance too tired for words, but it spoke volumes.
The dragon gulped, and casting one worried glance at Aerida and the others, he spread his great wings, and faded into the forest.
~~~~~~*****
I apologize for the looooooooong time it took to do my chapter. As I said before, it never seemed right in
the previous drafts. This is a little
better. I'd love to hear what you liked
and/or think or needs improvement on this chapter or the story in general. Thanks!