A/n: Ok, to start off, pretty well no one managed to get my "nods" at things in the last chapter - which I am not surprised at, lol. I did try to make them rather vague. So, for inquiring minds, I will now reveal the "nods".

Tythe's attire (white robe, white staff, white hair) is my nod to Lord of the Rings (Saruman). Just to be clear, Tythe is not Saruman. He's just dressed like him. Second: Him saying "You rang?" was a small nod to Lurch, of the Addams' Family. Third:When Saradon said, "I have that dinner with the Duke of Hilvalle and Lord of Netherfield later this evening." I was discreetly referring to Back to the Future (Duke of Hilvalle Hillvalley) and Pride and Prejudice with Keira Knightley (Lord of Netherfield Netherfield is the home of Mr. Bingley).

I told you they were meant to be obscure and discreet, LOL. And, Smithy, since I can't review reply you or PM you or e-mail you, lol, the recipe for the ice-box cake is at the end of this chapter. :D

Oh, and one last thing before I end this rather long author's note: This chapter is a kicker and I'm DYING to know what you guys think! So enjoy, and review me. :)

Chapter 16

Tythe smiled wickedly as Will and Elisabeth walked very cautiously forward, clutching each other's arms. They did not know what Tythe was capable of, or why he had a staff instead of a sword to fight. However, they were quite sure that the staff was somehow more dangerous than a sword.

"I wouldn't come too close, if I were you." Tythe warned, still grinning unpleasantly.

"And why is that?" Will questioned uncomfortably.

"First, let's clean things up." He said and waved his staff around. The ball glowed slightly, just a small blue glow, and all the unconscious or dead guards littering the room abruptly disappeared.

Will looked at Elisabeth and swallowed nervously. "What exactly have we gotten ourselves into?"

Elisabeth was paler than before. "I'm not sure I want to know." She whispered.

"What – or who – exactly are you?" Will ventured, speaking to Tythe.

Tythe's answer came in the form of an attack. He suddenly twirled his staff in a circle before jabbing it out towards the pair again. He viciously spoke some words that sounded like they were from another language. The ball on the end of the staff glowed suddenly white, before brilliant white light shot from the staff, hitting Will and Elisabeth square in the chest and sending them skidding across the floor on their backs.

"I said I didn't want to know." gasped Elisabeth, clutching her chest and fighting to regain her breath. The light had felt like getting a chair in the chest and Elisabeth swore something must have been broken in her body on impact.

"I am a mage. Commonly known as a wizard." Tythe laughed nastily. "And I'm not done with you yet. Come back and fight."

Before anything else could happen, Will and Elisabeth dove for cover. The best thing was a large table set against the wall, so before Tythe had made another move, the two of them had turned over the table and were behind it, still trying to regain their breath.

"That won't stop me, you know." Tythe said dangerously. "But I'm not completely merciless, so I'll let you have you're little idea of shelter."

"Now what do we do?" Elisabeth asked in a panic. "As long he's got that stick he can do anything he chooses. He could probably kill us right now, but he's just waiting for the opportune moment!" she paused and looked irritated. "I'm starting to sound like Jack!"

"So then we need to take the stick away from him somehow." said Will grimly.

"How do you suppose we can do that?"

"Well, there's two of us and one of him. There's got to be a way to get to him, because we do outnumber him, after all."

Elisabeth sighed and rubbed her temples. "Let's go. Before he changes his mind and zaps away our only bit of cover."

Westley and Saradon traded attacks and blocks rather casually, as if this were nothing for than an innocent practice duel at tea time. Saradon had not begun throwing insults yet, as both wanted to feel the other's style out first, it seemed a silent mutual agreement to hold back all aggression for the time being.

Westley kept the energy and anger he had bottled deep, ready to uncork it on command. He had mastered this control over the past few years, readying himself for the day he knew he would be facing Humperdinck again, not knowing just how soon that day was to come.

At the moment went Tythe sent Will and Elisabeth hurtling backwards across the floor, Westley flicked his eyes ever so briefly over at Tythe and back to Saradon. He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"You have a wizard?" he said.

"Mage, actually. That's what he prefers to be called." Saradon answered matter-of-factly. "But yes."

"Bit unfair, isn't it?" Westley indicated Will and Elisabeth with a tiny cock of his head. "Pitting a scary-looking mage against two foreigners who have likely never even heard of one, let alone have to fight one."

Saradon shrugged. "They're terribly fashionable nowadays. Pretty well any Evil King, Power-Hungry Leader or Cruel Dictator has one. They double as a Twisted Royal Advisor, too, so that's helpful."

Westley shrugged also. "Well, I suppose you can't really help it then."

And they returned to their duel, turning up the heat on their opponent a few notches.

For several minutes, they fought without a word, slowly fighting harder and then harder again to match and top one another. Westley was already feeling his muscles ache from fatigue because of having used so much of himself in the previous battle, but he only pushed harder, determined to win and not give Saradon an inch of advantage.

Saradon was surprised by Westley's stamina, and decided it was past time to play to Westley's weaknesses.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Not at all. You?" Westley responded readily.

Saradon shook his head. "Not even a little bit." He flashed the smile he used when he needed to unnerve people, and was disappointed to see no change in Westley. He fought a little harder, jabbing in several more attacks and forcing Westley on the defensive.

"I can tell you're tired, you know." He said in a tone that got under everyone's skin.

Westley narrowed his eyes a tiny bit. "How is that?"

Saradon smirked. "My attacks are stronger than yours."

"Really?" Westley abruptly amped up his own attacks, startling Saradon and taking him back a step.

"Impressive." Saradon mumbled between pressed lips. Think. He thought. Push it. "I wonder how Buttercup's faring about now?"

Westley faltered ever so slightly but recovered just as fast. "She's with Inigo. She'll be just fine."

"Ah, you hadn't thought of her since she left?" Saradon said condescendingly and made a tut-tutt-ing­ noise. "Seems hardly a way of showing you care, wouldn't you say?"

Westley said nothing, but Saradon could tell he'd struck a nerve. It gave him the smallest of advantages and he was determined to keep it.

"She was wonderful, you know." He said snidely. "When she was mine."

"She was never yours." Westley said through grit teeth and Saradon could see his eyes blazing with anger.

"Oh, yes she was. She agreed to marry me, and she was going to stay with me too. But if it weren't for – "

"You trying to murder her." Westley cut in sharply.

Saradon grit his own teeth. That backfired slightly.

Westley smiled a little. "I'm sure you haven't forgot that detail, have you?" he paused. "Or how she tied you to a chair? How we, your supposed inferiors, quite easily outsmarted you? Not that it was hard – "

"Shut up!" Saradon barked, not enjoying the fact that the tables had turned. He was supposed to be the one issuing insults and provoking his enemy, not the other way around.

"We used your fear against you – "

"I said shut up!" Saradon lashed out furiously and Westley leapt back accordingly, though Saradon's sword grazed his chest, ripping a hole in his shirt and drawing blood.

Saradon gained a minute amount of confidence and advantage back, seeing a few drops of blood coming from the shallow cut on Westley's chest. He pulled himself together and pushed harder.

Westley was fuming from the insults and jabs, and swung his sword in the same reckless, random arc that Saradon had used. He didn't expect it to work, and so he was shocked when he managed to slip his sword in Saradon's careful defense of parries and blocks to make a sizeable slice in Saradon's arm.

Saradon stumbled back several paces to regain his composure, breathing hard and, though he would rather die than admit it, he was frightened.

Westley let Saradon have that moment to recover. He desperately needed one too.

Elisabeth cautiously was stepping against the wall to her right, which was Tythe's left. She held her sword up and ready, and hardly chanced a peek at Will, who had copied her stance and was moving slowly up the center of the throne room, on Tythe's right. Tythe flicked his eyes back and forth, a permanently amused expression on his face.

"You cannot defeat me." He growled, and raised his staff.

"Would you like to make a bet?" Will snapped.

Tythe chuckled. "We shall see."

Abruptly the ball on his staff swirled a glowing orange.

"Down!" Will hollered, at the exact instant that neon orange light streaked faster than a bullet towards Elisabeth. She dodged without hesitation, and the light hit the wall. It left a large, smoking hole in the wall.

Elisabeth stood as quickly as she had gone down and was just as ready for another attack as she had been before.

Tythe sneered. "Clever. But try to dodge this."

Will held his sword tight and watched Tythe and the ball on the end of the staff, which was suddenly pulsing with a menacing red glow. Will blinked, and this time light shot in two directions from the staff, though it was obvious the light's direction was less controlled. Elisabeth tumbled and rolled forward, easily missing the light.

Will moved a few steps to the side, getting an idea. He swung his sword at the light. His aim was dead-on, for just as the light hit his sword, he'd swung, and miraculously, the light made a loud ping noise before spiraling back at Tythe.

Tythe gasped and had to dive to the floor to avoid it, and it was a very close call for him. There was a smoky streak across the back of his robes, revealing just how close Will had come to hitting the mage. He stood and snorted with anger.

"That was lucky for you. I am done with your games." He raised his staff and his hands like he was parting the Red Sea, and shouted some words in some other language. The ball on the end of the staff glowed a sickly yellow-green color, before a dragon-like monster shot from it. It darted straight for Will, who got the feeling his sword wouldn't be able to deflect this one.

Will turned around and as he dashed away from the misty creature gaining on him, he frantically thought of a plan that might just work. He ran for the wall.

The creature followed and Will was unaware that Tythe was now firing spells at Elisabeth, who was deflecting them back at Tythe just as Will had done. She didn't think she could hold out much longer, as Tythe was getting increasingly angry and using stronger and stronger spells. Elisabeth was tiring fast as hitting the spells was going from feeling like she was hitting tennis balls to bowling balls.

Will bolted hard and then stood with his back flat against the wall, facing the dragon. It veered towards him, opening its see-through jaws, and Will fought the very strong urge to run or duck. Not yet… not yet… not…

NOW.

Will ducked and rolled away at the very last possible second. The jaws had been less than inches away from devouring him. The dragon exploded in a massive jet of air and light, knocking all in the room off their feet. Will covered his head as heat blasted over his him. He stood up a second later, looking blackened and singed from his close proximity to the failed spell. The spot on the wall where the dragon had hit was very black, hot, steaming, and reeked of ash.

Then,in less than seven seconds, the following took place.

Will exhaled with relief and retrieved his sword.

Tythe was on his feet again, and roared furiously. "ENOUGH!"

Will started running towards Tythe as the mage pointed his deadly white staff directly at Elisabeth.

"You will die first…" he said sinisterly and his lip lifted in a disgusted and wicked sneer.

Elisabeth held her sword with a white-knuckled grip and swallowed.

Will ran harder, and Tythe did not seem to see Will, as the mage's back was turned to the ruined dragon spell on the wall. The globe on the end of the staff glowed brilliantly green, radiating death.

"Avada Kedavr-"

Will was there and with a mighty yell and with one hard slice, he pulled all his strength into it, and chopped into the staff. Light from the started spell flashed from the staff at Elisabeth. She opened her mouth to call out and the light hit her. She collapsed to the floor.

Tythe reared back as though he'd been burned, dropping the two pieces of his ruined staff. The top half holding the globe hit the stage, ball first, with a mighty crash of glass, sending a terrible gust of smoke and magic shooting out everywhere, only to dissolve an instant later.

Will swung his sword again in a magnificent and strong arc the other way as the smoke and light was exploding, catching the mage off guard, who was clutching his hands in agony. The sword went exactly where it was supposed to.

Tythe gasped in pain not related to his hands and crumpled to the floor. A pool of blood slowly began to form as Will let all his breath out.

"We did it." he whispered, oblivious to the renewed sword-clanging now coming from the very back of – or front, as it was to everyone outside – the throne room. He looked up with a small triumphant smile from Tythe's unmoving form to where Elisabeth had last been standing. "We…"

She was no longer there.

"Elisabeth?"

That's when he saw her and felt suddenly colder than ice.

She was laying several feet away from where he'd last seen her, in an unnatural face-down position, motionless, her hair splayed across her shoulder and neck.

"No, Elisabeth…" Will whipped over to her, throwing his sword off to the side somewhere. "No, please no!" He gently turned her onto her side, severely unnerved by the chilled feeling he felt when he touched her arm. Her face was whiter than white.

"Please… no… Elisabeth, wake up." Will shook her fruitlessly, knowing deep down there was no hope. She was gone. Dead. Murdered by the mage, while Will had been saving himself.

Hot, shamed, hurt, angry tears spilled onto his sweat glazed cheeks. A million different emotions scoured through him like fire, and yet somehow there was this awful block of ice, deep in the pit of his stomach refusing to melt or move. Will cradled Elisabeth close to his chest and, completely forgetting everything else but his lost love, began to cry.

"No, Elisabeth… come back… please come back… I love you… Elisabeth, I love you…"

A/n: Well? WELL? Quick! Review me! Tell me what you thought! I must know! Lol. :D

And, as promised, the recipe for the Ice-Box Cake (from my mom, who said its written on the side of the Chocolate Wafer Box).

Coolwhip Choclate Wafers Log (aka, The Most Delcious Ice-Box Cake)

Prep: 10 mins plus refrigeration

Ingredients:

1 pkg. (200 g) mr christie's chocolate wafers

Fresh whip cream, that u whip urself, from dairy section in grocery store

1. Spread wafer with whip cream. Stack wafers in groups of 6. Place stacks end to end on plastic wrap so they form a roll, pressing together lightly.

2. Frost top and sides with remaining whipped topping .

3. Wrap and refridgerate for about 4 hours so the wafers become soft. (For wrapping, my mom sticks tootpick in it to hold the saran wrap away from the whip cream).

4. Cut in diagonal slices and serve.