Disclaimer: You know the obvious.
Still, yet again, looking for a beloved beta-reader :)
It was late and Prince Sameth was concentrating in his workshop. He had received a message from the Clayr the previous week, not only was their sight dwindling, but they had saw, what seemed to be prince Sameth using a green, round shaped disk, buzzing with the charter, that was leaving the dead immobile and weak as he held it, assisting the Abhorsen to bind them. But something had struck it out of his hand, and he was left in the dark, trying to locate it. While he was searching – something had struck the Abhorsen-in waiting, behind her back. The clayr's sight instantly stopped. A week since the message was delivered, Sameth was intent on creating such an idea – and improving it, although he had no idea where to begin. Before this, his Aunt's company had given him time away from his ghastly sister Ellimere. She had helped in giving him motivation when nothing appeared to be working. In return, he made Lirael a golden hand, which worked just as good, if not better, then her natural one, before Kibeth bit it off. Lirael had never recovered from Kibeth dying, and he could see it, eating away at her every day, as she stared into the soapstone's statuette's face. But as Sameth noticed, when Nick came to visit, something drew Lirael out of her trance, and became more lifelike, more like the Lirael when he met her. He wondered, perhaps, was its Kibeth's influence after she baptized Nick with the charter? But something drew Sameth out of his thoughts.
"Aren't you supposed to be working on that, thing?" Mogget mewed suddenly, looking quite amused. Sameth jumped a mile. He had left his workshop door locked, while Ellimere and Lirael had taken a trip to the Clayr, for Ellimere to find a book or something. Lirael had been reluctant at first, to bring back memories of exploring the depth's of the library, but Ellimere had insisted, believing it would be good for her. How Mogget had got his way inside, he did not dare to ask. A sharp swipe to his arm let him know Mogget was impatient, and still unbound.
"I asked you a question." Mogget stated, before he started to clean his back, pink tongue darting out into his white fur.
"I was just thinking." Sameth replied slowly, staring at the albino cat.
"Thinking? Yes, of course, you're the only one who thinks about things. A trait of the Wallmaker, that. Unlike that dog lover…" Mogget replied with a slight twinge of sarcasm, between licks.
"What about Lirael?" Sameth asked tiredly, expecting a rant that involved Mogget's hatred for Kibeth.
"Oh, she's dead that's all." Mogget replied with a cat-like smirk, stretching his back leg out, to clean himself more.
"WHAT? How? What happened? What about Ellimere?" Sameth stood, worried
"Now you interested, too bad...my thoughts dwindle…perhaps I need some more fish." Mogget replied curtly, knowing exactly how to get what he wants.
"I'll get you fish, if you tell me what happened to Lirael and Ellimere" Sameth stated, wondering where he would manage to get fish at this time of night. Mogget took his time, before beginning to slowly answer.
"Well, let's see, Dog Lover, and your sister… who went on the paperwing to the Clayr…but never arrived. And since she's dead, probably in the company of the horrible hound…or whatever she said she was...Ellimere is probably captured, or dead herself. She would have been back otherwise." Mogget mewed matter of factly, the curled up in a ball. Sameth noted that ever since he met Ellimere, he had a slight respect for her. Or perhaps that was because she let him eat all the fish. "If you don't bring me some fish soon, you're going to regret you're not dead too, Sameth." Mogget was quick to point that out and fell asleep, right on top of Sameth's work. With a sigh, Sameth knew this was true. Mogget would do anything for fish.
Ellimere awoke suddenly, painful memories flooding back to her. Lirael had scarified herself, to save her. But she could not reach the paperwing in time. She had seen it, the bright tail slightly showing around the corner. Gore crows had forced them to land, but Lirael had banished them once they were on safe ground. But something, something else had drawn them into the forest. Was it curiosity, of the dark, but mystical forest? Or was it something else, some spell or magic, placed upon them? Ellimere knew better. So did Lirael. As soon as she saw the first sight of the paperwing, she slowed to a fast walk, her lungs aching. That's when they struck, a reek of free magic, which almost suffocated her, causing her to fall, and retch violently on the ground. But with each burning gasp, she fell more and more away, before she finally passed out.
Where she was now, she had no clue. A small tent was pitched, and she lay upon a small lump of straw, in sweaty and dirty clothes. No opening was visible, but the outside light was seeping through the fabric. The green fabric was coated in some sort of grease, slowly, her head spinning. She reached out to touch it. It burnt her hand, and she cried out, the burns blistering, reeking of free magic. Whatever it was, it was for keeping her prisoner. She sat, frowning, and nursing her burnt hand. A moment later, a figure stepped through the barrier, her eyes dark and menacing.
"So, you're awake. I see." She crackled, the free-magic stench making Ellimere retch, clutching at her dress. "Soon…I'll be ready for you soon. Then you wont need to worry about…that problem of yours" She continued, her rasping voice sounding deeper then any female's should be. Before turning on her heel, she heard whispered slightly, barely audible for Ellimere to hear. "The Clayr will repay, the glacier has already given me their power….they will never understand." She then disappeared with her hissing muttering, leaving Ellimere to finally throw up, before passing out again, just missing the pile of straw.