Chapter 11

Lizzie sat in bed, the blankets drawn tight around her shivering frame. She couldn't sleep; her dreams were haunted by images of the two men who had power over her life, her fiancé Joshua and his father Lord Gilld. Joshua had left last week, kissing her with all the passion he dared show and promising her that he would return so that they could be wed. And then he had mounted his dark steed and rode off, Vincent by his side. Lizzie's fists clenched; no matter how much sense it made, she still wished that she was the one accompanying him, not the Beast.

"I can't stay like this," she whispered, rising to her feet and slipping her feet into the shoes by the side of the bed. She reached up and put on the dressing gown by the head of the bed, disappearing inside the yards of dark green wool. She smiled and pressed her face to the folds, the smell of her fiancé making her feel just a little better. She knew that rummaging around his room in the dead of night, not to mention sleeping within those walls, was not exactly appropriate but Joshua would understand and no one else would know.

Lizzie snuck out of the room, her slippered feet making no noise on the plush carpeting as she made her way to the library. She needed something to distract her, some way to quell the ache that was his absence. Lizzie smiled, raking her fingers idly through her hair. And to think; she had been so adamant about never losing herself to a man. But Joshua came along and she had no choice; she fell desperately in love with him. And it must be powerful, if she could think about her calm, rational self as being "desperately" anything.

At the door of the library, Lizzie drew to a halt. Since there seemed to be nothing else, she might as well read to pass the time. Entering the room, she found her gaze first drawn to the shelves of poetry, long winding odes that spoke of all the beauty in the fair world and all the pain under the heavens. But she did not wish to read of that now, it struck too close to home. "Perhaps a long boring history would serve me tonight?" she mused, her lips curling in a small smile as she remembered the interminable tomes that had comprised her earlier education.

There was a tall stack of books sitting on one of the reading tables and, ever curious as to what the other occupants were using to amuse themselves, Lizzie strolled over to take a look. She lifted the first book and flipped it idly open. The words on the page were written strangely, starting in the left hand corner and spiraling inwards with strange designs dancing along the edges. Trembling, she set it down.

"What's wrong?" asked a snide voice that sounded like it came from beneath an upturned nose.

"Who said that?" Lizzie demanded, not recognizing the voice. It seemed to come from in front of her, yet she could see no other form.

"Look down, you silly girl." Shocked, Lizzie followed the directions and saw a devilishly handsome face gazing out of the book she had just set down. It took her all of three seconds to decide to slam it shut.

"Ow!" the book yelled, it's voice muffled by the pages. "You little shrew, that hurt!"

"You deserved it!" Lizzie answered stubbornly, fully aware that she was arguing with a set of words and pictures written on a page and not caring.

"Jesus, you really are terrible," the book grumbled. "What does that boy see in you?"

"Who?" Lizzie asked involuntarily.

"How many suitors do you have in this castle?" the book retorted. Lizzie turned slowly around and reopened the book. The face returned, staring at her with the same sneaky eyes and wicked grin.

"How do you know Joshua?"

"He and I are old friends," said the book offhandedly. "He reads me often; I'm quite a powerful grimoire."

Lizzie couldn't believe her ears. "So you helped Joshua learn magic?"

"Well, I suppose you could say that," the book hedged. "I was a gift to him on his fifteenth birthday. He was already quite the powerful wizard then. And his father wanted him to master some of the more…esoteric spells. I had been in the family for generations," it added proudly.

"So you know Andrew as well," Lizzie murmured, a plan beginning to form in her head.

"Don't even go there," the book warned. "I can't tell you any of his 'weaknesses' or stuff like that. It goes against all that I am."

"And what exactly are you?" All trace of fear had left Lizzie's voice, she was amazed and entranced by such magic and determined to learn more about it and the men who controlled it.

"I am the Grimoire, book of black magic."

"So you're evil."

"Oh, look who thinks she knows so much. As it just so happens, I am not evil; I am a bunch of leaves bound together with string and the soul of a magic user."

"And that's not evil," Lizzie scoffed.

"Not when the soul is given voluntarily, no." That gave the young girl pause. "See," said the book, "Don't presume. After all, do you really think Joshua would involve himself in black magic."

"If it meant beating Andrew, perhaps," was Lizzie's cool answer.

"Who made you the judge of all mankind?" the book asked.

"I'm not judging mankind, I'm judging Andrew. And I have firsthand knowledge about his cruelty and malice." The face in the book softened.

"I had forgotten," it murmured. "You were wounded as well."

"I hadn't," Lizzie muttered in reply. "But enough of this. What was Joshua doing in here?"

"He was going off to face Andrew," the book answered. "He needed all the magical support he could garner. He spent most of the time that wasn't with you in the depths of these tomes; seeking new spells or the one charm that could break Andrew."

"Does it exist?"

"One charm, of course not! This is a battle of endurance and wiles, not of some miraculous salvation. It's quality and quantity that must combine to make him the victor."

"Does he have both those?" Lizzie asked, her hand trembling as she laid it down on the table to try and steady it.

"I don't know," was the truthful answer. "He's powerful, but Andrew will force him into a trial by combat. Joshua cannot refuse and there is a good chance that will be the end of him." Lizzie wanted to scream, but her throat seemed to have closed up. She shut her eyes and forced herself to breath normally. She would not lose him, not so soon after finding him.

The book looked worriedly up at her, a pang of empathy passing through its paper heart. She was so young to be subjected to this and she would have to discover the way out on her own; if there was a way out.

Lizzie's breathing slowly returned to normal as she weighed her options. She could either spend the rest of her time fretting away in this castle, waiting like the rest of her sex for the return of a man. Or she could rush foolishly out after him and get herself killed as she tried to save him. She knew better than to do that; that only led to happy endings in books and she wasn't risking her life with Joshua on the words happily ever after. But there was one other alternative.

"Book," Lizzie said softly, fixing her pale blue gaze on the pages below her. "How long would it take for you to teach me everything about magic?"

"Not that long," the book answered, "If you're willing to cheat." Lizzie raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You see, the proper way to learn magic is to start at the beginning and move up. It gives the mages a proper appreciation for magic the hard way and makes them understand the cost of every spell. The other way, which is much frowned upon in all magical societies, is to find a very powerful magic worker and beg them to tell all that they know. They can transfer the knowledge to your head in one easy moment. Then you have to spend a long time working out all the new information and sorting it."

"That's not all," Lizzie murmured. "That's too tempting a shortcut."

The book laughed. "Good girl. The problem with this transfer is that the mage giving the knowledge dies as soon as the spell ends."

"I can see why the magic workers prefer conventional methods," she muttered. The book laughed. "So, how do I find a mage willing to lose his or her life for my cause."

"You don't," answered the book. "You find one that knows it all, but is already dead."

"For example…" Lizzie prompted.

"Think, girl!" The book barked. "Just think!"

"I'd say you," Lizzie replied, "But then why would you be so secretive about it? Unless you merely enjoy being irritating?"

The book snorted. "Where did that boy get such bad taste in women from?" Lizzie merely sighed.

"Look, you don't have to like me, but Joshua needs our help. I want you to teach me everything that Andrew knows."

"And why are you so sure that I know all that he does?"

"It stands to reason, if you were in the Gilld family for generations, you would have been studied by them all. Including Andrew."

"And what if I told you that Andrew sealed off parts of him knowledge within me, so that only he can access it?"

"I would swear fluently," Lizzie answered, trying not to smile.

"As it happens, I could not tell Joshua all the information I would have liked, for he knew better than to ask to be told. But this isn't telling, this is me transferring the entire contents of my memory into yours." Lizzie shivered. "So you will know the information I cannot say, but you will not be able to tell of it either."

"I don't care, so long as I can use it."

"I don't doubt that you can." Lizzie stared at the figure in the book, trying to fathom the murky depths of its eyes. "Do you have any more questions, curious one?" it enquired.

"Just one," Lizzie answered after weighing the numerous issues in her mind and deciding that most could be resolved later. The book looked at her with a 'go on' sort of expression. "If you can grant me all this knowledge, why is it that you could not have given it to Joshua?" She hadn't meant to scream the last part, but she was angry that Joshua might be going needlessly to a death that could have been prevented.

"Joshua doesn't know I exist," the book replied softly. Believe me, if I could have given him this knowledge, I would have. But he cannot see or hear me, I am merely a book with words to him. You're the only one who can see me."

"Why?" Lizzie whispered. "Why me?"

"We share a bond," answered the book. "One that I would tell you of now, but it will be much easier to teach you the magic now and tell you of our joined fates later."

Lizzie nodded. "Do what you must." She was directed to strip. Stifling a terrified shiver, she divested herself of all her clothes and stood naked in the middle of the library floor.

"Hold still," said the book. And the pages began to glow with strange lights. A swirl of blue and pink began in the middle of the page and the sounds of an orchestra began, playing music like none Lizzie had heard before. Sparks shot from the page and the blue and pink fires began to weave together to form a figure. Staring in shock, Lizzie watched as the form of a beautiful enchantress began to take shape. She had long blond hair and cool green eyes, was dressed in a long gown that flowed around her like the tide. She was partially transparent and, as she walked towards Lizzie, the latter shut her eyes so that they weren't blinded by the light.

"Do not be afraid," the apparition whispered right next to her ear. And one moment later, the room shone brighter than the sun and the woman stepped forward into Lizzie, washing over her and melding her knowledge with her. It took but a moment for the ghostly body to disappear, absorbed into Lizzie's own. And then all went dark.

Lizzie fell to the floor, shaken to the core by what had just happened. Her mind was swelled with so much knowledge; centuries of magic had just made their home in her head and she had no idea how to cope with it.

"Relax," said the book's voice from somewhere inside her head. "Just calm down. Take a deep breath."

Lizzie did as the voice directed, focusing on it as if it were an anchor in the maelstrom of her world. A few moments later, she was calm enough to stagger to her feet and pull the dressing gown back on.

"Now," instructed the book. "Sit down in the chair and open yourself up to the memories." Lizzie sat down, allowing the warm comfortable armchair to embrace her. And then she let loose the book's mind on her own.

There were no words to describe what the invasion felt like. It was as if a thousand stimuli were attacking all at once. She immediately understood the strange gift called magic; how it flowed through the veins of the magi and gave them the power to control the world around them. She understood instinctively how the inner force could be used to alter the outside world, the way that the fiery blood in her body would fuel her mind with strange powers; the power to make the impossible happen. She learned of the complicated, multifaceted spells that were used to channel different magics at once and of the simple ones that were merely thoughts before they came true. She was filled, engulfed with the powers as she remembered the sorceress that the book had been and watched her at work. She knew, as if she had done it herself, how to bend the air and water to her will, how to control the animals and the people of the earth, how to make fire dance to her own tune and even how to transform one thing into another. And, best of all, Lizzie felt the wind beneath her as she remembered flight and felt sure that she could duplicate it again.

When she opened her eyes, she found that it was noon. She stretched slightly, keeping Joshua's dressing gown wrapped tightly around her.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" drawled the voice in her head. It was, undoubtedly, the voice of the book although far more feminine sounding than it had been before.

"Very much so," Lizzie answered.

The voice laughed. "You need not speak out loud, child. I can hear any thoughts directed my way.

'Oh.' Lizzie smiled. 'So we will leave for Joshua now?'

"If that is what you wish."

'I must go.' Lizzie started off towards her room, hiding a few times to avoid servant who would not be very pleased to find her wandering around in naught but her fiancé's dressing gown. She reached the room and quickly dressed, reveling in her newfound magic as she changed the girlish riding clothes into something far more appropriate for the deception she had in mind. She knew the dangers of a young woman traveling alone and decided that she would reveal her true identity when she reached Lord Gilld, not before.

She was soon ready and standing on the roof of the castle.

"Do you remember everything?" asked the book's voice worriedly.

'Yes,' Lizzie answered with a sigh. That voice sounded like a worried mother sometimes. Lizzie clambered onto the highest parapet and, screaming the words of magic to the heavens, she launched herself into the air and, as she had dreamed, began to soar amongst the birds.

The first few moments were ecstasy. The magic took care of petty details like the actual problem of flight, leaving her with the sheer joy of movement. She swooped and whirled around the clouds, reveling in simply being alive. This went on for a few minutes before the voice in her head interrupted her.

"If you don't grow up and calm down," it muttered, "I won't tell you my story." There was no worse threat one could make to Lizzie than threaten not to tell her a tale. And so she settled down to a more sedate pace and, relaxing on a strong spring breeze, she listened as the voice began its story.

"My name," it said softly. "Is Diana."

T.B.C.

A/N – Again, I know I've been a little slow with this. School is catching up to me and I'm going mad from trying to find time. And my laptop is dead, so I've been reduced to writing in public computer rooms. Ahh, how tragic is the life I lead. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this latest installment, reviews are more than welcome. I hope to bring this tale as old as time to an end soon, but I'm not promising anything. At least three more chapters. Remember, the more you review, the faster I write. And if you know of any perfect men who are lonely and seeking a brilliant, beautiful young author as a companion…well, you know who to contact. Or if you could just find me Joshua, I would be happy then too. Lord, why is it that all great men are fictional? (Fitzwilliam Darcy comes to mind at the moment, closely followed by Frederick Wentworth). But enough of my whining. Farewell!

Levana (Damian)