Spellbound

Author's Note: Because more than one person has asked, I'd like to note that the little girl at the end of Mozenrath's dream in the last chapter is not Sadira as a child. Sadira and Mozenrath do not share some long-forgotten past – at least, not in my story. And now:

Chapter 4: Complications

There was something about the Grimorum.

There was something, something she wasn't seeing. But it was something he wanted her to see. It had to be. It's not like he'd just let her use the Grimorum because … because he liked her or something. Or even because of their contract. There was an ulterior motive behind everything he did.

And surely, if the Grimorum was the most powerful spell book in all existence, as he claimed, surely there must be something in it that would lead to the ultimate goal: Avalon.

But as far as Sadira had been able to tell, there was nothing written about this mystic island within the pages of the book. True, she'd only perused it once, but she'd looked it over pretty thoroughly, not knowing if Mozenrath would be willing to share it with her a second time. In fact, the more she thought about it, he probably shouldn't have been willing to share with her at all. There had to be something in it that showed the way to the island. But if that was true, why he didn't just tell her what it was?

Sadira paused in her musings. Mozenrath liked to play his games, she knew, liked to orchestrate his little manipulations of her, but the whole reason he'd sought her out in the first place was because it was a matter of life and death. So she sincerely doubted he was being so subtle just because he enjoyed toying with her.

So that must mean – it could only mean – that she had to figure out the mystery of the book on her own, in order for the magic to work.

Something about the blank pages … perhaps they had hidden spells on them? But then, how to make those spells appear?

Within a sudden flash of insight, Sadira turned on her heel and strode over to where she kept all of her own magical writings, "inherited" from the witches of the sand. She seemed to remember something, something in one of them, some phrase that about "uncovering what is hidden from the eyes" …

It took several hours, but Sadira eventually discovered the solution. She ought to have been pleased with herself.

But the realization of what needed to be done to expose the spell made her feel slightly queasy. It wasn't that she was scared of the pain; she'd certainly endured worse, and besides, it wouldn't take that much to do it. It was just ... this was …

"Dark magic."

"Don't be stupid. There's no such thing."

She should've been startled by the sound of his voice, but somehow, she wasn't. In fact, she couldn't even find in herself to snap at him for arriving unannounced, as he usually did.

"How long have you been watching me, Mozenrath?" She asked. She didn't even bother to turn around. "How long have you been waiting for me to figure it out?"

"Not as long as I anticipated." She finally turned to look at him them. He carried the Grimorum under his arm, and there was a slightly mocking smile on his face, but somehow (perhaps she only imagined it) he looked rather apprehensive.

"What did you mean, there's no such thing as dark magic?"

"Precisely what I said. Magic isn't dark, Sadira – or light, or good, or bad, or whatever other moralistic label you want to toss around. Magic is –"

"A tool?"

A shocked look flashed across his features, before he remembered to put his smirk back in place.

"Exactly. A tool." He walked over to where Sadira kept her cooking supplies, and he picked up her knife. He held it out, almost as if offering to her. "Just like this."

Sadira swallowed. "You could hurt someone with that knife."

"Yes. But you could just as easily cut the ropes that bind them. Set them free."

"You think I need freeing, Mozenrath?"

He advanced on her then, invading her personal space, getting his face right in hers.

"I think your misguided loyalty to your 'friends' is holding you back, Sadira."

She felt her face grow warm, but she met his gaze defiantly.

"So … what?" She challenged. "So I should be loyal to you, instead? Is that what you're saying? Now that would be really stupid, wouldn't it?"

He appeared to consider for a moment, and then he laughed, softly. "Yes, I suppose it would be." His smiled faded. He put the book down on the table between them, opened it to one of the blank pages.

"Do you want to do it, or should I?"

That wasn't concern she heard in his voice. It couldn't be.

Sadira took a deep breath and held out her arm. "You do it." Why was trembling? Damn it, this wasn't that big of a deal …

"Very well." And yet he stood there, with the knife in his hand, hesitating …

"Do it!" She snapped at him. "Do it and get it over with!"

The knife slashed across her skin. Sadira gasped in pain, but quickly turned her wounded arm over, to let the blood drip onto the blank page. One, two, three – and then there was a blaze of light, and the words appeared, rimmed in red, as if written in fire:

Vocate venti fortunate ex rege Mabis et hic navis flugem regate ad orae Avalonis

"And there it is," Mozenrath said softly. "You've found the hidden spell, just as I did." And then, before she could even react, he had produced a cloth, and he was wrapping it around the gash on her arm. She immediately felt a soothing coolness, and knew he must have soaked it in some sort of salve before coming to see her.

"This should heal you in a few minutes," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. The pain was just a memory now.

"Thanks." Her own voice was almost a whisper. "That spell …"

"You understand it, don't you?"

"Of course I do." She said evenly, though she still felt a bit shaky. "'Come winds, safely from the kingdom/shores of Mab and guide this ship through the waves to the shores of … Avalon.'"

He smiled at the ease with which she translated. "Clever little witch."

She scowled back. "You need to stop calling me that."

He slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her to him. He was smirking again. Always smirking. Arrogant, smug son of a –

"Make me." He challenged.

So she kissed him. Just to wipe that damned smirk off his face.

For once, she had the pleasure of catching him completely off guard, and it took him a moment to react. His lips were thin but warm again her own.

His gloved hand cupped her face as he deepened the kiss, and he was sure she would pull away then, when he was clinging to her with a hand that was nothing but bone, but she didn't. Instead, she twined her arms around his shoulders, closing what little space was left between them, pressing her body to his…

"Sadira? May I come in?"

That was the voice of Jasmine, the voice of her friend. Her friend, the princess, who had forgiven her for so much, who always asked permission before entering her home, unlike the rude, sarcastic, infuriating young sorcerer she was currently making out with.

They broke apart, and she pushed him away. "You have to go," she hissed, but he just stared at her, looking dazed. Jasmine called her name again, sounding closer now. She shoved the book into his hands.

"Mozenrath, please, you have to go now!" He finally seemed to understand, and in a flash, he was gone.

Not a moment to soon. Jasmine rounded the corner. "Sadira, it's been a while since we've seen you, is everything all right …"

Her voice trailed off as she took in her friend's appearance. Sadira was flushed and breathing heavily. Jasmine's eyes darted to the cloth that was around her arm.

"What happened?"

The genuine concern in the princess' voice made her feel sick. She forced herself to smile reassuringly.

"Oh, don't worry. It's … it's nothing really. I was just trying out a new spell and … it didn't go so well, as you can see."

Jasmine approached and gingerly examined her friend's injury. "Does it hurt? I could take you to see the palace doctor …"

"No, no," Sadira said quickly. "It's fine, I've … I've already used one of my healing potions on it." She quickly unwound the fabric, to show Jasmine the unblemished skin underneath.

"See? It's like it was never there."

She only wished she could say the same about Mozenrath. It was like she could still feel his touch. What the hell had she been thinking, kissing him like that?

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little flushed."

No. I'm not okay. Oh Jasmine, please don't hate me, I swear I won't let him hurt you, not you or Aladdin or anyone, I just wanted to learn from the best, I just wanted the challenge, the excitement, I never meant to feel – I don't feel –

"I'm fine," Sadira said, smiling so tightly she thought her face would break. "You're right, it has been a while. Can I make you some lunch while we catch up?"

-Line Break-

What the hell had he been thinking?

Oh, he could admit he found her interesting. He could admit he found her intelligent. He could even admit he found her moderately – moderately! – attractive.

What he couldn't admit was that she caught him by surprise.

He was so sure she would have squirmed out of his grasp. He'd only wanted to further discomfort her, to keep her off-balance, to keep control of the situation. It didn't have anything to do with the brightness of her eyes or the softness of her lips, her skin, or the curves of her –

Mozenrath uttered a curse. Damn it, he was supposed to unsettle her, not the other way around!

Focus, he told himself. After all, it was just one kiss. It meant nothing. So he found her desirable, so what? It was just hormones. The important thing was that he still needed her help, to complete the journey to Avalon. After that, well, if he could make his puppet or his pawn, so much the better.

I won't be wielded. I won't be your weapon.

The words she spoke his dream echoed in his head. When this was all over and he sought to conquer Agrabah, he knew, deep down, that she would not be on his side. She would fight against him. She would not bow to his power, and she would not break before his threats.

Not his stubborn, clever little witch.

It didn't matter. Not now. Now there was no conquest at hand; there was only survival or death. And survival meant catching Sadira alone as soon as possible, and setting out with her across the desert, to the sea, into the mists and towards the shores of Avalon.