Chapter Six: Breaking The Spell

Russell writhed in the pits of hell. He was supposed to remember something, he knew. He just wished he knew what…

All around him, wicked souls screamed in agony and demons danced in ecstasy. Flames licked Russell's shoes and smoke choked him when he tried to inhale.

He saw red all around him, no matter where he turned, no matter where he looked or what he did, if he closed his eyes or kept them open, all he could see was red. The visions of fire and devils appeared to him in his mind's eye.

He could never know if they were real or if he was going mad. But that element, of course, was what made it hell.

He didn't know how long he had been here, or what was happening. After a while, he couldn't even remember who he was or if he was even human.

His mind strained, searching for what was erased, or possibly just hidden temporarily. The wizard's spell…

The wizard's spell was hiding something from him. He could feel the spell in his mind, flashing purple and emitting mocking sparks. It was thick and strong, impossible to ignore, nearly tangible.

Whatever the spell was keeping from him, it was still there. If it wasn't, the spell wouldn't be either. It would have taken the memory with it, for that was the purpose of the memory spell.

The spell had to be broken. Somehow, the spell had to be broken so he could remember and know what he had to know and therefore get out of this hellish prison…But how?

And then…

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Carmen lay on her side, still fast asleep. She hadn't managed to fall asleep until way past midnight, when the turbulent dreams finally stopped. A single lock of her hair fell across her peaceful face, and her only movements were from her breathing.

Two green, clawed hands reached for her throat…

Carmen's eyes flew open and gasped, sitting straight up. She raised a hand, ready to strike or fling a curse, but stopped herself just in time.

"Bloody hell, Two-Bit, scare me to death!" she gasped. Two-Bit grinned and pulled off the Halloween gloves he had lifted from a store.

Carmen noticed the gloves and rolled her eyes. "Kleptomaniac," she muttered under her breath. Two-Bit's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What did you just call me?" he demanded.

"Kleptomaniac. It's a mental disorder where you have to shoplift wherever you go," she explained. Two-Bit threw a glove at her, hitting her smack in the forehead.

"I am NOT a kelp…too…whatever the hell," he said loudly. Carmen threw off the bedcovers and yawned, stretching.

"Why are you here?" she asked sleepily. "Well, its Sunday, I'm bored, and you're here and so am I. Whaddya want to do?" Two-Bit asked cheerfully.

Carmen flopped back on her pillow. "Go read a book," she groaned. "I want to sleep." Two-Bit, however, wasn't about to allow that.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," he insisted, shaking her. Carmen batted him away and mumbled some unintelligible and probably unfriendly words into her pillow.

Two-Bit sighed and sat back. He wasn't about to give up. She looks a lot younger when she's sleeping, he mused. Even awake she doesn't look sixteen.

Suddenly, an idea entered his head and he grinned broadly. That's not very nice, he reprimanded himself. Then, Tough luck. She's going to wake up right this instant!

He pulled his switchblade out of his pocket and flicked it open. His breath caught in his throat at the click it made opening, and he waited to see if Carmen had heard it and woken up.

She remained asleep, breathing steadily and rhythmically. Two-Bit lowered his gleaming, glowing knife silently to her neck and began to whisper the ancient spell. "Arazs jhoutm rie'f!opf…"

Unfortunately, he never got to finish the spell. Carmen's hand shot out and caught hold of the blade, wrenching it out of a shocked Two-Bit's grasp.

"Nice try," she commented. "All right, you, I'm up…" she muttered, rolling over reluctantly.

Two-Bit was speechless for a minute until he regained his voice. "You just reached out and grabbed it!" he said, looking both impressed and appalled.

"Yeah, and your point is?" Carmen asked, her feet padding on the carpeted floor as she headed over to her closet to find something clean to wear.

"By the blade! And you're not even bleeding!" Two-Bit practically shouted, his face blanching and his eyes bugging. Carmen turned and chuckled at the expression on his face.

"Boy, if I had a camera…" she muttered, still snickering. Two-Bit shut his mouth and gave her a long, hard stare.

"How did you do that?" he asked slowly. "That's not basic sorcery. That's almost black magic." Through learning wizardry, Two-Bit had also learned quite a bit about the other types of magic circulating the world.

Carmen turned back to her closet and remained silent. "Carmen," Two-Bit said sharply. Carmen ignored him, but the only purpose that served was to irritate Two-Bit into using his best weapon against her.

"Carmen, I order you to tell me—" Two-Bit began, but that was as far as he got. Carmen had whipped around and held the switchblade, which she was still gripping, to Two-Bit's throat.

"Do you want to finish that sentence?" she asked softly, her face a blank mask. Two-Bit swallowed. "No," he finally managed, hoping he didn't look half as afraid as he felt.

More than frightened, he was amazed at Carmen's daring, and more curious than ever about what she wasn't telling him.

Carmen handed the switchblade back to him, and he closed it and slid it safely into his back pocket. Awkward silence stretched across one minute before Carmen spoke.

"I'm sorry, Two-Bit," she said quietly. "I wish I could tell you, I really do. But I've been ordered to kill anyone who ever finds out."

Two-Bit opened his mouth to say, by whom? But he had a feeling that question was off limits too. Instead he said, "Thanks. For not killing me."

Carmen rolled her eyes and threw a pair of socks at him, missing. "Out," she ordered. Two-Bit pretended to be hurt. "What, you want me to go home?"

"No, but there is no way I'm getting dressed with you in the room. Out!" Somehow, Two-Bit had lost control of his legs, which were moving forward and steering him out of the room.

"Hey! What gives?" Two-Bit yelped, clutching the doorframe. But he had somehow lost control of his hands too, which released their grip on the doorframe. He found himself in the hallway, watching Carmen's door slam shut and hearing the lock turn. Only then did he regain control of his limbs.

Man, she's no fun at all, he groused to himself. He sighed and started downstairs, the steps creaking. Hmmm. She has to have something to eat around here. Maybe there's something to watch on TV too.

Two-Bit found some chips in the pantry and brought them to the front room, where the sad, small TV rested. It was obvious from the dust gathering on it that nobody ever watched it.

Two-Bit switched it on and channel surfed, trying to find something decent to watch. Finally he found a channel he liked.

"Ooh, Mickey Mouse!"

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Russell screamed in agony as he burned. His skin was scorched and he could smell burning hair. All he could see was red, fiery red flames that mocked him.

Make it stop, he thought desperately. Make it STOP!

He gasped in shock as he was doused with a jet of cold water. The fire died down, and when the smoke cleared, Russell regained his vision. A moment later, he wished he hadn't.

Mordred was standing in front of him, wand drawn and wearing a hard expression. He was a tall, thin, intimidating man, with eyes that were like pieces of flint, and a long, sharp nose.

"Explain yourself," he snarled at his cowering apprentice. Russell swallowed hard and reluctantly told the truth.

"I can't remember, sir," he muttered. To his astonishment, Mordred lowered his wand and said, "That will do."

"Sir?" Russell said, amazed that he had gotten off so easily.

"That is a powerful forgetting spell," Mordred said quietly. "I had underestimated the boy's power."

Russell strained his memory, trying to remember. Mordred chuckled cruelly. "Don't hurt yourself, Russell. The spell is bound very tightly. I suppose since you remember me, you will remember my daughter, Carmen?"

Russell nodded slowly. I remember her. And I think she has something to do with this…thing I have to remember.

"Indeed, she does," Mordred said coolly. "Well done, Russell." Russell stared at him. How did he know what I was thinking?

"Sorcery, my foolish apprentice," Mordred said triumphantly. "Only the powers of sorcery could enable me to read your thoughts."

"Sorcery?" Russell blurted out. "But you're a wizard!"

"Indeed," Mordred said softly. "Indeed." Russell opened his mouth, but shut it. He had just recalled exactly how his master had come about his means of sorcery, and it was best that he keep his mouth shut or else risk losing his lunch.

"Wise choice, my boy," Mordred said. Russell fumed silently. He hated that his master could read his thoughts.

"Enough chit chat," Mordred said firmly, whirling around. "We have to find some way of releasing that memory spell. I must know what happened."

"I thought you had your cauldron to tell you that," Russell said quickly. He had experienced Mordred's magic before, and, regardless if it was for black magic or the rare good deed, it was always painful.

"Indeed," Mordred said, looking defeated. "I did, but the magic ran out before your encounter ended."

What encounter? Russell thought, but said, "Master, how can your wizardry run out? You're a wizard!"

"The magic in that cauldron, to see an event as it happens, is not wizardry, idiot! It is fairy magic!" Mordred shouted in frustration. "It was the last of the magic I took from Twyla sixteen years ago."

"But…Master…" Russell stammered nervously. His brain screamed furiously at his mouth to shut up, but he had to know. "Didn't you take sorcery from Carmen just that long ago?"

"No, you fool. That was merely five years ago, although you are correct in saying that it ought to have run out by now. No, no, a sorcerer's or sorceress' magic is special, and can be applied to any type of magic. Especially my dear daughter's. The power I took from her will always be useable to me, because of our blood bond."

"Oh," was all Russell could think to say. His mind felt foggy and his head hurt. The spell had him tight in its grasp, and it was not letting go.

"Right. So we'll just fix that…" Mordred muttered to himself. He paced back and forth, waving his wand.

Golden, shimmering diagrams and words appeared in front of him occasionally, lingering until the wizard walked on, and then popping and dying like fireworks.

Finally the wizard turned to Russell, a triumphant smile on his face. "I suppose you remember that we watched together as my daughter gave some of her power to that mortal?" Russell nodded. "Yes, master."

"Yes. So whatever spell he cast, should be undoable by her magic." Russell nodded again. "I suppose," he said reluctantly.

"Well, then!" Mordred exclaimed. "What are we waiting for? Let's get started!"

Russell swallowed hard. More than even his master's magic, he feared the power of Carmen's.

It wasn't that she was more powerful; Russell had yet to find a magical being more powerful than his master. She was more creative and her spells came full force, with strong, true emotion behind it. Mordred would shove you off a cliff into a pit of sharks and alligators and think nothing of it. Carmen would only do it if she really hated you.

Russell closed his eyes, bracing himself for the explosion that was sure to occur.

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Ending it here. It's too long anyway. Whaddya think? Please review? (I said please!—I need to work on the whole "nice" thing, according to parents)