Court Mage Jean Grey, Order of the Red, felt not a little apprehensive when she heard the news. She wasn't lacking in pity for whatever poor creature was to become the Menagerie's newest addition, either.
She voiced a small groan, heard only by the messenger. He nodded in sympathy.
"Cheer up a li'l, Jean. It can't be that bad. Just a li'l Binding Spell."
"You obviously weren't there when she had the Banshee Bound to her."
"I only came back in time to be told what'd happened by me mates. Said that when it made that bratty little Juni wet 'erself people were laughin' fer weeks after."
Jean gave an involuntary shudder. "Not quite so funny at the time. We kept having people running around asking who'd died every time it opened its mouth." She twisted round a little from her seat to reach for a silk bag full of an unidentifiable powder. "Which is why," continued the redhead, "their majesties try to keep such a firm hold on all of Lady Amanda's little 'pets'. Thank you." That last comment was due to the messenger passing her a bundle of incense sticks, which had been evading her questing fingertips.
Workbag equipped, the young mage pulled a plain red-cotton robe over her everyday clothes, and speed-walked (it wasn't done to be seen running) to the Royal Gardens.
Amanda was not in her most lenient of moods, and each minute waiting for the stupid mage when her parents could likely arrive at any second to wrest the prize from her possession stretched to an eternity. Which was why, considering the princess' s lack of patience, the more cautious of her personal attendants were already surreptitiously edging out of the danger zone.
If that incompetent peas-no, there was that rumour she could read minds. Bereft of her best-favoured derogatory term; the mental tirade against slow Magick-Casters petered to a halt. This did nothing to quell her temper.
At last, the fast approaching figure became visible. Seconds later, the celebrated Mage of His Majesties Royal High Court swept into the Menagerie, her professional air eclipsing her frankness of earlier.
But Jean's carefully constructed attitude of motivation and efficiency collapsed spectacularly; when the outlandish appearance of the Forest Demon pulled her up so sharply that she fell backwards in a heap.
From her sprawled position on the floor, oblivious to the aghast stares of those around her, the young woman tried to take in what was before her. Never before had such a creature been seen, and the recognition Jean felt towards the Forest Demon was a shock to her system. The short, fine blue fur, dark indigo hair, pointed ears and spaded tail all seemed instantly familiar, yet that was impossible.
"When you feel like getting up off the floor, I'd like to get on with the spell. You will only embarrass yourself by staying there."
Amanda's barely controlled rage snapped the mage from her semi-trance. She stood up, and went into the cage that held the unconscious Demon.
Beckoning to Her Highness to join her, the sorceress enclosed the three in a circle of green powder. Selecting a spool of earthy brown silk from her satchel, and stealing a handful of blue strands from the captive's head; she then set the circle alight with mage-fire, the blue flame burning anticlockwise along the dusty trail. The princess pre-empted the mage's instructions by sitting down into a meditating position, and lighting an incense stick. Jean knelt beside her and began to weave the blue hair into the brown in a complicated braid. Two parts of it were Amanda's hair, one was the Demon's hair, and the fourth was a glowing filament of pure magic. Whilst she was intertwining these threads, her mind was probing inside the monster's head. This was the vital part of the spell; if the incense failed to break down the subconscious mental barriers in the subject's mind, the spell could be ruined. Meeting no resistance, the key binding command was swiftly fastened around the Demon's mind, indisputably Binding him to Amanda. Jean opened her eyes to tightly wind the brown silk around the skinny plait via her telekinetic powers. The spell was finished by means of a small silver clasp at the end of the spell-braid.
"Finished." She sighed, feeling a little tired. "The Working (as the spell- weavings were called) will fade so that it can't be broken accidentally."
The Sovereign of the South Realms made to leave, but was stilled by the court mage. The casting had gone swiftly, and the circle had not yet burnt itself out. Amanda settled for fiddling with her new hair accessory and studying her latest unusual pet.
It was as they were locking the cage and preparing to return to the castle that the King and Queen arrived. They were not in a good mood.