Chapter Five

When they broke through the nest of thorns the sun was already beginning to set and the castle was obscured by the ever growing briers. If they did not break the magic enchantment cast over the place, Micah thought with a dull sickness in the pit of his stomach, then no traders could get through, or the peasants who herded sheep and grew vegetables for the castle and everyone inside would starve.

He thought of his master Benardo, his fat limbs growing lax and bony as he wasted away. Of his own mother, sat at her loom in the queen's lacing room becoming gaunt and skeletal-like as she worked and waited for food that would never come.

He wondered if she even knew he had left the palace.

He had only caught glances of her in the corridors or at banquets and state occasions over the years but he had to really memories of her or any true contact with her.

At age four he had been entrusted to the care of the head-groom but Micah had been too frightful to be around the horses and he did not have the noble blood to train as a page or knight. The kitchens had not wanted him and he was to clumsy and low classed to be a playmate of the princess'.

Benardo, who had been younger at the time and much thinner, had taken him for an apprentice, and Micah had excelled at his work.

He liked the quietness of it. That he was never disturbed when he went looking for plants or special herbs, and that, when Princess Rosalia had been sick, he had be allowed to sit by her bedside as she was nursed back to health.

He thought he had fallen in love with her then, as he watched her toss and turn in the large bed looking small and feverish. When she'd woken they'd talked and he'd found himself willing to do anything for her – he had stolen her cakes and sweet meats from the kitchens when she was allowed only broths and brought her books to read from the library when she should have been resting

And when she begged him for flowers, although it was law that they where not allowed inside the castle he had smuggled some in for her, hidden underneath the herbs that would cure her.

He hand only brought a small clump of daisies but she had been delighted, her smile enchanting and Micah had vowed to see more of that smile; in truth it had been his undoing.

He had begun to lose concentration and become reckless in his law braking and, because of his foolishness in loving someone so far above his station; she had been taken from him by something foul and evil.

And even if their rescue was successful she would be taken from him again, by Adriel and then there would be nothing he could do if that came to pass.

Micah shook his head angrily to rid himself of the thoughts and hugged himself against the bitter chill he felt sinking into his bones. It was beyond stupid of him to think the way he did. He would do better to think of rescue then his own inevitably unhappiness.  But, never before had he been faced with the mortality of his friendship with Rosalia and it scared him in ways he would rather not imagine.

In the end, one way or another, their companionship and his love had to die, whatever the outcome of this fateful expedition, and Micah would have to accept that, however much it pained him to do so.

Zea stopped, holding up her hand in a motion for him to do the same and Micah looked around wondering why they had stopped. There was nothing very unusual about the place they had halted, it seemed simply to be another part of the path – enclosed by woods on one side and a shear mountain drop on the other.

Micah cast a quick look downwards and felt beads of sweat break on his forehead and run down his face, his vision swam dizzily and he stepped backwards, closer to the safety of the woods and the ground at his feet – not a hundred feet drop away.

Adreil's hand grasped him and hauled him upright and Micah realised he'd been fainting, falling to the ground as the fear overwhelmed him.

"What's wrong?" Adriel asked, worry tinting his voice and Micah felt the sickness beginning to swim inside his stomach again. It wasn't right for Adriel to be kind and honourable and it wasn't right that Micah felt like he could trust him. Angrily he pushed the Prince away and, clumsy footed, made his way to the nearest tree and leant against it, breathing rapid and uncontrolled.

He could still feel Adreil's question hanging in the air, unanswered and Zea's one keen eye probing him for the response.

"I…the height does something to me, " He said softly, refusing to look at either of them, "I can't…can't look down and I feel…" he trailed off not really sure how to put his fear into words without sounding feeble.

There was silence for a few moments and Micah imagined the glances they must be sharing – how ashamed they must be for allowing him to come with them when he couldn't look at a dying man or look down without having being nauseated.

"It doesn't matter." Zea's voice penetrated the self-loathing voice in Micah's head. "Where we are going you will not need to worry about heights."

Micah drew away from the tree and looked round cautiously, Adriel was pointedly not looking at him and Micah knew he was embarrassed by the situation, embarrassed by Micah, but Zea looked straight at him, her eye unblinking and Micah found himself sweating again.

"What do you mean?" Micah asked slowly. Perhaps she was so revolted with him she was sending him away, and she and Adriel would continue without him – he shuddered slightly at the thought.

Zea did not answer his question directly. Instead she stood past him, pushing her way through the trees and bushes, fallowed by Micah and Adriel,  until she reached a ring of stones in the middle of a clearing.

These where perfectly ordinary stones, small, round, grey pebbles that lay in the overgrown grass and looked as if a child had dropped them when playing a game. Zea dropped to her knees a little before the stones, her head bowed and her voice a low growl as she spoke words that where unintelligible, her hand reaching forward and fingers fumbling as she grasped the nearest stone and held it tightly.

Adriel ventured forward but Micah grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

"That is a Fairy Ring. Any man who steps inside it is carried of to the fae land," He whispered fretfully, watching as each stone in turn glowed a cold, grey light. "You could be gone for a century and think it only a day."

Zea stood up suddenly, the first stone she had touched held in the palm of her hand. She pocketed it and then looked to the two of them watching her with a mixture of awe and fear.

 "This," she gestured to the Fairy Ring. "is the entrance to Scipio's lands, he is the one who holds Rosalia captive and he will be expecting us so we must be very careful. I have taken a stone from the Fairy Ring – when Rosalia is safe we can use it to safely transport us back to the human world, it will only work once though, I only had magic enough for that, so we must stay together."

"Of course." Adriel mumbled, shrugging off Miach's hand and striding forward. Micah fallowed him, feelings of  trepidation swelling up inside of him, into the Fairy Ring.

He felt Zea take his hand and then everything around him was dark.

Micah opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. His whole body throbbed painfully as if he had been a jousting target and his head felt as if it had been caved in two.

He sat up slowly and then buried his head in his hands, moaning faintly. Something touched his leg and Micah yelped, rolling away from the creature he imagined lurking in the darkness when a gloved hand clamped across his mouth.

"Shut up, will you!" Adriel's exasperated voice hissed in his ear and Micah nodded quickly. He was released and took a few, fast, gulping breaths of air before turning to face Adriel, his hands searching until they found the other man in the darkness and clung to him.

"Where's Zea?" he asked. Another hand touched him, this time un-gloved and soft on his cheek, and turned his head.

"I'm here," Zea said and Micah brought his own hand up to feel her face, not completely trusting his eyes in the darkness yet. "You've been asleep for a long while, the magic effected you badly."

"I feel like I'm dying."

"That's to be expected." Zea said. There was a rustled of material as Zea stood up, and her hands guided Micah up until he was standing, and, as is eyes slowly became accustomed to the gloom, he realised they where in some sort of cave made of the same grey stone that had made the Fairy Ring.

"This is where Scipio lives?" he asked.

Zea gave a bark of mirthless laughter.

"I wish, this is the outskirts of his land. He controls vast areas of the Fea kingdom, we have a long walk ahead of us."

"Then we should get going."  Adriel said. He stalked a head of them and Micah heard Zea sigh softly before she wrapped her arms around him and help him stagger forward over the rocky ground.

They walk for someway before Zea stopped, pulling away from Micah who found himself steady on his feet, sniffing the air and pulling a disgusted face. Adriel had also stopped, he turned and gave her a worried look.

"Did something die here?" he asked.

"I don't think its dead yet." Zea whispered, terrified.

Something great and terrible leered up over them, snorting and snarling. It had grey leathery looking skin and smelt like rotting flesh so that Micah had to cover his mouth with his hand or be sick it was so nauseating.  The creature had the face and tusk of a wild pig but the body of a giant man.

"What is it?" Adriel whispered, his hand instinctively going to his sword hilt.

"A troll." Zea whispered back, eyes wide.

The troll hearing them swung one huge hand out, clipping Zea and sending her slamming into the caves wall.

She staggered up, clutching at her side and the troll came at her again, roaring. Adriel drew his sword and charged forward hacking at the trolls back, his sword splintered pieces of metal but the troll suffered nothing. It seemed only mildly irritated by the constant attack.

It turned and grabbed Adriel, pulling the sword from his hand and with an unnerving ease bent it in two.

Micah stood, to frightened to move or to run and could only watch the trolls clawed hand tighten slowly around Adriel who squirmed and twisted – gasping for breath.

"Micah!" Zea screamed and the young man looked at her, on the floor bleeding from a wound on her side from when the troll's claws had slashed her and struggling to climb to her feet, "Micah, the flute!"

Confused Micah pulled the pack from his back and tugged the tiny silver flute from within it. He held it out to her but she shook her head.

"Play it." She gasped.

Micah pressed the tiny instrument to his lips and blew a sharp, high pitched note. The trolls head came up and he dropped Adriel, who scrabbled away to Zea's side, and started forward to Micah, growling.

Micah's fingers moved of their own accord, playing an old lullaby as his mouth went dry and his mind seized up in terror, positive he was about to die.

The troll stopped mid-charge and stood, swaying slightly until suddenly with a keening wail it toppled sideways onto the floor, dust rising in clouds around it.  Micah threw down the flute and covered his face as the dust cascaded over him.

When the dust had settled he was confronted by a coughing Adriel and a far too pale Zea.

"Is it dead?" Adriel asked between hacking coughs but a large snore from the troll answered his question.

"Sleeping, the flute puts things to sleep" Zea answered the next question before he had asked it.

"I'll kill it then" Adriel said. He bent to the floor to pick up his sword but suddenly saw it lying forlornly amongst the stones and dust bent double and picked it up despondently. "Evil thing"

Zea reached out and gripped his arm.

"No, it wouldn't work anyway. Iron could not penetrate its skin."

"Then how do I kill it?"

"You don't, Micah does." They both looked at Micah who shook his head.

"I don't have a weapon."

"Your sickle?" Adriel asked, pointing to it.

"It's decorative," Micah protested, "It's made of silver and couldn't cut a spiders web."

"Try it." Zea prompted.

Nervously Micah drew the sickle from his belt and advanced towards the troll. He knelt besides it and raised the sickle height, he gave Zea one worried look and brought his hand down in one swift movement that decapitated the troll.

Both men gazed wide eyed and opened mouthed at the horrible troll head as it rolled in the dust while Zea nodded, grimly happy.

"Good," she said "good."