Em, sorry this has taken so long you guys, I've had no motivation AT ALL to just sit down and edit this chp this week… been so lazy. Keep getting distracted and doing something else. So I also apologise if my editing is a little shoddy… I have been over and over this thing, but I'm still having concentrating…
I don't know what this is about replying or not to reviews, so I'm not going to risk it. But seriously, thank you so much you guys! 54 reviews! I'm so flattered by your comments, and it's certainly given my confidence a boost… Cheers!
We have some more Daine, Numair and Alanna towards the end… sorry if she's a bit OOC…
Oh, and thought you might like to know, seeing as I've had such a positive response from it, there WILL be a sequel to Midnight (maybe a trilogy if you're extra nice)… look out for Dawn, appearing on all good computer screens near you soon!
Disclaimer: seriously, if I owned these characters and settings I would be publishing them in a book and making some money! But as I don't, I'm not making any money, and all I get from this is enjoyment… and that warm, fuzzy feeling when I get a review… ; )
Recap: Numair stroked her mane reassuringly. "We'll find her," he promised distractedly. "We'll get to her soon, she'll be alright." He couldn't hide the doubt from his voice. He had to get to Daine, fast.
When Daine opened her eyes, something floated in front of her face, something glowing. Daine dazedly wondered what it could be. A globe of some sort, emitting a dull light. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. It seemed to be a light globe, similar to the sort she'd seen in Carthak.
She shook her head, only to find she couldn't move it. Pulling against her restraints, she tried to look down. Somebody had dressed her with the clothes that were in her pack. The material that had been used to restrain her was spidren rope. She struggled against it, but it was no use. She had not expected it to be; she knew from past experiences, namely being caught in a web in the Divine Realms, that even if she had changed to the smallest animal she knew, the webs would still contain her. She looked around the room she was in as her eyes adjusted to the light. Her pack, and it's contents, were strewn across a table on the other side of the room, her new belt knife with them.
She thought for a moment. Whoever had dressed her had put her boots on her feet. Normally she had a small knife concealed in the leather inside the boot, in a small hidden pouch she had created for herself. She moved her foot around inside the boot, and couldn't help a smile spreading over her face: the knife was there. Now all she had to do was reach it. A wall at her back meant she couldn't bend that way to reach it, and the ropes that held her were tight. Spidren webs however, she knew stretched. She twisted her leg up towards her, reaching down with her hand to meet it. She felt around the top of the boot with her fingers, then froze at a noise to her right. A door creaked open, and she snapped her foot back down to the ground, straightening as quickly as she could.
"Ah, so our little guest is awake, is she?" a light, musical, male voice said. She twisted, trying to see the owner of the voice. He walked to the centre of the room, his eyes appraising her. Daine squirmed uncomfortably. Her head pounded, and she did not like the way the man was looking at her. His eyes were a bright blue, his mouth was full, and his hair, although dull and unkempt, was a brownish-black. This was the man she had seen on the battlements, the one that looked like King Jonathon. This must be Duke Roger. "Quite a pretty little thing, aren't you? No wonder Draper likes you. Very nice." He turned away from Daine, and the pounding in her head lessened. "My dear?" he shouted towards the open door. "Your visitor is awake." He turned back to Daine. "I must admit, I was rather curious as to what could have upset my lady so much, but I can see now."
The 'lady' that the man was talking about walked into the room. "Varice!" Daine gasped.
Varice sneered and turned to Roger. "Leave," she ordered. "Now!" she snapped when the once Duke didn't move.
Roger scowled and made to leave, but turned to Daine before he left the room. "I'll see you later, my dear. Once I have dealt with a certain grievance of mine. I hear the Champion is on her way. You know what they say; third time lucky." He smiled grimly, and walked out the room, closing the door with a bang.
Varice walked up to Daine, a smile spread over her face. Daine shuddered. It wasn't a welcoming smile. "You and I have something to discuss."
"Do we?" Daine asked, trying to keep her voice amiable.
"Yes," Varice spat. "You have something of mine, and I want it back."
"I don't have anything that belongs to you," Daine said, trying to keep her voice calm.
"Yes you do. You are trying to keep Numair from me." Her eyes glittered dangerously.
"Numair is his own man. He belongs to himself."
"He belongs to me."
"If Numair wanted to be with you, then he would." Daine was losing patience with this woman fast. "It so happens he doesn't."
"You've bewitched him in some way, you little witch. You spread your legs for him, and he came running. Just like a roadside wench. That's all you are. You're just a glorified working girl, gone from the upstairs rooms of an inn to the corridors of a palace. It would be a commendable progress in any other business. But I want him back."
"I think you've got the wrong of it," Daine said, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Numair chose to be with me. I've not bewitched him, and I couldn't even if I wanted to."
"To him you're just some little toy – some new magical discovery to play with. He'll get bored of you once he finds something new; some little spell. He never did that with me. He always had more fun with me than with his books," she spat. She walked over to the table, studying the contents of the table top. She picked up Daine's knife, testing the point on her finger. "Sharp, isn't it?" she said when she drew blood. She waved it around, holding the hilt in her hand. "I never understood why women need these things. They're so… unfeminine. A real woman doesn't need to show her strength to attract men. A real woman uses her looks, and her charms."
"And when she needs to defend herself? What does she use then? Does she flaunt her way out?" Daine retorted.
"Why would a woman get herself into a situation like that anyway? Maybe working the back rooms of an inn then you would, but not me." Varice smiled. "Really, Daine, what would Numair want with a girl like you when he could have a woman like me? I'm not some slut from some backwater village. I'm a grown woman from a noble family."
"I thought noble women kept their respectability and honour until they were married. Not you then?"
Varice slashed. Daine yelped in pain as heat flared from her cheek. Blood trickled down her cheek onto her shirt. Varice eyed the blade with interest. "Useful, though, aren't they?"
"Numair would want nothing from a witch like you! What have you done? You think you're so powerful! You brought an evil man back from the dead! Why would Numair ever love a woman like you?"
"Numair would love a woman like me for many reasons. He loved me before – he still does. You've just covered his eyes temporarily. When he sees me, he'll realise he's made a mistake. And I'll forgive him. I'll welcome him back, even though he's betrayed me. Because he loves me."
"He does not love you! He told me so himself."
Varice slashed her again, cutting Daine's shoulder down to the bone. Daine bit back a scream, biting her lip till it bled. "You lie!"
"No! I don't!" Daine thought frantically, changing tact. "Why would I lie to you Varice? You tried to save his life in Carthak! We love the same man! I wouldn't want to hurt you!" Daine shut her eyes as pain ached through her.
"Scared, Magelet?" Varice spat the name, laughing as she did so. "Not coming to rescue you now, is he? Well, when he gets here, he'll take one look at you," she gestured at the bruises and blood which covered Daine now, "and he'll look at me, and he'll choose me. Why have a baby when he can have an experienced, grown woman like me? Then you'll know how it feels. How it feels to have the man you love betray you. But he'll realise his mistake."
Daine spat at Varice, "His only mistake was you." Varice screamed in anger and lunged at Daine with the knife. Daine screamed as the knife dug deep in her side, fire running through her.
"Get away from her, Varice," a male voice said behind the older woman. Daine's heart leapt. She craned to see him.
Numair walked up to the blonde woman and pulled her roughly away from Daine, gripping her tightly with one hand and holding his staff in the other, Daine's bow and quiver over his shoulder. He pushed her to the other side of the room and turned to Daine. "Daine!" He touched her cheek, as a cut bled sluggishly. There was a deep cut on her shoulder, and another on her side. Numair swore, and pulling his belt knife free from its sheath, began ripping his shirt into shreds. Quickly he worked, wadding together the strips and tying them down. Daine's face was pale and she leant against the ropes. Numair had a feeling that if they weren't there, she'd fall down. "We need to get you to Alanna fast," he told the woman.
She smiled dazedly at him. "I knew you would come. I love you."
Numair smiled. "I love you too, sweet." He checked her eyes.
"I'm all right, you know. I'll live."
"I don't doubt it." He cupped her cheek with one large hand. "Just let me get you free –" Varice screamed behind him. Numair spun, catching the woman as she lunged towards him. Quickly he knocked the knife from her hands. "Varice. What have you done to her?" he hissed, holding her at arms length. His arms were shaking slightly. He'd used more of his magic than he'd thought he would when he tried to find Daine. But then the horses had been upset again, and Cloud had nearly bitten him when he'd said to wait. He had known then that Daine was awake, and that she was in pain. He couldn't leave her. Alanna had been less than pleased when he told her, but he'd had no choice. He shook Varice. "What have you done?"
Varice just laughed. Numair pushed her away in disgust, and she stumbled and fell. She pulled herself to her feet. "You shouldn't have done that," she hissed dangerously, blue fire blurring around her. Numair stepped back, feeling the power in the room build. Where had she got all the power from? There was something not right about her Gift. It had something else in it. Something tainted.
"Surprised? Didn't think I could do more than bind a cake together? Well, you'll be surprised to see what I've learned while you've been gone. You'll be proud, even. You always wanted me to do more with my magic. So I learnt." She walked towards him, her arms outstretched. Her blue Gift covered her like a cloak. "Don't make me do something I'll regret, Numair. I wouldn't want to hurt you by accident." She raised her hand and her Gift flared around it. She lashed her hand at him, and he flung his Gift into a shield. It flickered slightly and she raised her eyebrows at him. "Tired?"
"No," he snapped. He backed up so he covered Daine, his shield protecting her too. "At least let Daine go. This has nothing to do with her. It's you and me."
"It won't do us any harm for her to die," she smiled. "Then you'll be free of the little wench forever."
Numair sent the remainder of his Gift towards her in a thunderbolt of fire. "Let her go," he snarled. "If anything happens to her…"
"What will you do? You have nothing left, Numair," she smiled at him. "We could make this so much easier, you know. You could just do what I say. Leave her to die. It's me that you love."
"Never!" he snarled. "I could never love you."
A dark shadow flickered across Varice's face for a moment, then she brightened and smiled. She pulled something out of her belt purse: Daine's locket. "You will do what I say, Numair. You will leave her. You will realise that it's me you love. I will make you realise that if I have to." She lifted the locket to dangle it in front of his face, showing him what she was about to do. Blue fire glittered over it, and over him. Numair tried to resist it, fighting it with all that he could as he felt Varice's power slip under his skin. Numair pulled the last of his magic that he could from himself. His staff was lying on the ground where he'd dropped it when he went to Daine. His power stones… all he had was his black opal, and he'd already used most of the energy he had stored in that to find Daine. He fell to his knees as Varice's Gift clutched at him, using his to battle it.
"Numair, stop!" Daine cried behind him. "You'll kill yourself! Stop it!" She was right, he knew. There was nothing he could do now but let Varice's power wash over him. She had control of him now. She could use him to her will, and there was nothing Numair could do to stop it.
Varice smiled. "I have you now sweet. Oh Numair, I've missed you so." Numair was tugged to his feet. Varice crooked her finger, and his feet moved compliantly towards Varice. His mind was screaming 'no', but there was nothing he could do as he crossed the room towards her. Varice reached her hand up to him, and ran her claws down his face, scraping against his stubble. "Kiss me," she ordered. Numair pulled against her control as much as he could, but despite his attempts, his head lowered and met her upturned face. He could hear Daine crying behind him, and all he wanted to do was run to her, but he couldn't break free. To do so would be to kill himself, and no doubt Daine too. He didn't know where he was in this dark castle, and Alanna and George would never find them in time.
Varice pulled away from him slightly. "Now, I know you can do better than that." She pulled his head down to meet hers, and Numair could feel her controlling his mouth. He wanted to wrench away from her, but she pulled him down, closer to her. Suddenly Numair knew what she was going to do. His whole body repelled, he couldn't do this! Daine was screaming now. He couldn't even turn away from Varice. She had complete control of him. She pulled him down on top of her, smiling. "You love me, don't you, Numair? Show me how much you love me." Numair closed his eyes.
"No!" he screamed, breaking free from her control for a second. It cost him dearly.
She pushed him to the floor. His head hit the ground with a thud, and blackness danced before his eyes for a moment until they cleared. He was at Daine's feet. He looked up at her, unable to say sorry to her. He tried to apologise silently to her with his eyes. Despite the tears that coursed down her face, and the blood that mixed with it, she nodded, knowing that he could do nothing to stop it. "I love you," she mouthed. Varice dropped to sit next to him, hands stroking his face, and Daine looked away, closing her eyes in a mixture of pain and disgust. Numair's chest filled with pain and guilt. This must be killing Daine. He knew it was killing him.
"Look at me," Varice ordered. His head snapped towards Varice and his eyes met hers. Her pretty blue eyes danced with malice. "Now Numair. You will do what I say, won't you? There's a good boy. Now…" Numair shut his eyes. He couldn't bear it anymore.
Alanna and George ran through the castle, both with their swords bared. When they ran into a large room that was obviously the Great Hall, they halted.
"Where to?" George asked, his hand on her shoulder.
Alanna spun round, looking round the room for possible movements. There was nothing in this cursed place! When Numair had vanished, she and George had been left with no clue as to where he had gone. Where was everyone anyway? Outside, there were signs of battle, but that could not have been all the assigned guard for this fief, and inside it was deserted. Not even a body.
"Lass?" George prompted.
Alanna looked around the room again. A doorway that revealed a downwards winding set of stairs seemed to be their best bet. "This way," she guessed. Yanking the door open, she ran down the stairs, her mail clanking. The stairs turned into a dark, dank corridor, several doors leading away from it. Torches glimmered at intervals along the walls. George grabbed one and they continued down the hall, checking each doorway. Adrenalin pumped through Alanna's veins. She was anxious to find her friends, to make sure they were safe. And if Roger was here… She would see to it that Roger would not leave this place in anything but a coffin. At the end of the corridor, there was another stairwell. Down they went again, to another corridor identical to the last. When again they reached the end of the corridor having found nothing, George stopped her. "Maybe we're going the wrong way."
"If Roger is here, he'll be underground. It's exactly his style."
"Maybe he's gotten so used to being there," George muttered. "Look Alanna, we'll split up. We'll find them quicker that way."
Alanna nodded. "You're right. Just don't go getting hurt. You shouldn't even be here!"
"And what was I to do lass? I sit and wait for you to come back from the wars at home. This time at least I can do somethin' to help. And don't be worrying about me. If I find him, I'll holler." He kissed her quickly on the cheek. "You can manage yourself lass. I'll see you at the other end." With that, George turned and left her, running back the way they had come.
Alanna sighed, watching his retreating back. She knew he would be fine, but it wouldn't stop her worrying all the same. She turned to face the stairs, making sure her weapons were all in place, and fixing her shield on her arm. Taking a deep breath, she headed down the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the flight, she blinked, her eyes adjusting to the bright light. She walked nervously towards the first door, and yanked it open. Inside, Roger sat on chair in the middle of the room. She took him in for a moment. His once smart hair was now greasy and unkempt. His clothes hung limply on his once muscular frame, and his face was pale.
"Looking for me, my dear?" he smiled, his voice venomous. "You took your time. After I tried to pull your house to the ground, I thought you would have found me straight away. Your mind's not as sharp as it used to be."
"I tried to discount you from the possibility. There's only so many times a woman can kill someone before it gets tiring, you know? I'll just have to start again, then." She walked towards him, and Roger stood, swinging his chair to the side of the room.
"Third time lucky, that's what I've been told," Roger said, smiling grimly. He unsheathed his sword and the two assumed the guard position.
They circled each other warily, Alanna watching the man's torso for movement that would give him away. While she did so, she tested him for his Gift. There was something that flickered there, but it was merely a semblance of the fire that used to burn. "No Gift Roger?" she taunted.
"Not since I lent it to the lovely Mistress Kingsford. She's really something, don't you think? It's just a shame she likes Draper. It's such a waste. The poor girl, Veralidaine? She has something rare there. It's a shame Varice wants to kill her." He lunged for Alanna, his movement catching her off guard. His sword racked down her chain mail, and she used the second in which he was distracted in the movement to counter-attack him, her blade whirling in a flash of silver up to the right and down again, scraping his forehead and cutting a lock of hair free. She flicked it free cleanly from the end of her blade, and moved back into the 'guard' position.
Roger eyed her warily. Suddenly he brought his blade up in an overhead chopping movement, and she swung her sword up just in time to block him. He freed his blade, then mirrored the image on the opposite side, although Alanna was more ready for him this time. She blocked him again, and his onslaught continued, the swords meeting with sparks and the loud clang of metal and metal. Roger changed tactics, swinging at her side. She brought her shield up to block him, pushing his sword back towards him, throwing him off balance. Smoothly she chopped at his side as he fell back, but she merely nicked him.
Roger brought his blade down from overhead, and she brought her shield up. Her arm winced at the force of contact, but she held it as she lunged forwards from underneath it, aiming to run him through. Roger slid aside and brought his blade up to clash with hers. She pulled free and away, as Roger changed tactics again. He sliced at her leg, catching the inside of her mail and slicing into her leg. Alanna swore and danced free as Roger smiled grimly at her, his blade meeting her counter.
Suddenly their blades were caught hilt-to-hilt, and Roger grinned, pushing downwards. Alanna was well practiced in this. Many a time she'd been caught in situations like this, where her opponent could use their extra height and weight to bear down on her. She sprang free of the tangle, jumping backwards, then falling, tripping over the chair which Roger had moved earlier. Suddenly she realised he had manoeuvred her exactly for this. She swore as Roger stood over her, his sword tip at the base of her neck.