DISCLAIMER: "Abhorsen", all names, places, and related indicia are the sole property of Garth Nix, whose work I hold in great admiration. However, I wouldn't mind owning the Disreputable Dog!
Also, you'll detect a bit of influence in here from Dianne Wynne Jones's Howl's Moving Castle and Castle in the Air. I just thought that it'd be an awfully nifty addition to my fic if powerful sorcerers could command moving castles!
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CHAPTER TWO: ULSEIL, THE FIRE DEMON
Nicholas Sayre thought that his daughter looked rather vacant when she came down to dinner that night. Kagael piled about three rolls on her plate, poured a bowl of milk, and excused herself to eat in the reading room.
Nicholas never did have his wife's firm way with the kids; "Why there?" he asked even as he reminded himself to politely but adamantly tell her to stay.
As was usual.
"Research," Kagael said blandly. Then she promptly stuffed a roll in her mouth—a clear indication that she wasn't going to answer any more questions.
Nicholas Sayre heaved a sigh as she stepped briskly up the stairs. Kagael disappeared around a corner, and Nicholas turned to Daniel. His son was busily eating his portion of poached salmon, presenting to his father a not altogether attentive visage of the tousled top of his head.
As was usual.
Nicholas thought it over for a moment. He didn't suppose he could bring up Kagael's odd behavior without sounding like something of an idiot. So he let it go.
As was usual.
---
Kagael entered the family library and set her improvised dinner on the window seat. Mogget was lounging languidly on a pile of what looked to be a selection of cushions found from around the house. Kagael almost laughed; she'd had a feeling that he would be there; she had even poured him milk.
Kagael set the dish down by the cushions. The feline purred his appreciation.
"So," Kagael said, "are you going to tell me anything about this Ulseil before I resort to delving into these dusty shelves?"
Mogget looked up, his lamp-like eyes innocent. Then he promptly lowered his head again and continued to daintily lap up the milk.
Kagael sighed. "Fine."
She happened upon it by chance; the book was fairly new, written by a court scribe ten years ago on events pertaining and leading to her mother's Binding and Breaking of the Destroyer. It did not look like a volume that would yield much helpful information, and Kagael had meant to put it aside. But as it was, she was the sort whose attention was easily diverted, and the scribe's artfully written account captivated her.
After reading a chapter or so, Kagael reminded herself of the task at hand and somewhat dutifully flipped to the index. That was where she found it, under the U's.
"Ulseil," she murmured, quite surprised. Quickly, she flipped to the corresponding page.
There followed a page-long description on "Hedge Ulseil, Necromancer, Free Magic Sorcerer". He originated from the Old Kingdom's southern neighbor, Ancelstierre, Kagael read, but had apparently been a person of little or no importance in the society. Thus, the writer continued, his background was very obscure; there was no information on family or acquaintances, other than the fact that he had worked, or rather, worked through the necromancer Chlorr of the Mask. There were records that Orkaire had, at one point, solicited the sorcerer's talents. Then the Old Kingdom's own ravager Kerrigor had enlisted his service.
It continued on telling of the man's considerable prowess in necromancy and sorcery, his conducts in the service of the Destroyer, then ended simply that he had been killed by Lirael Goldenhand and passed beyond the Ninth Gate. So he was dead, but Kagael already knew that.
She read the page over again, but found nothing new. Yawning, Kagael set the volume aside for leisurely reading later and moved to search for more material among the bookshelves.
"You won't find anymore there," Mogget mewed quietly.
Hopefully, Kagael turned to look at him. "You wouldn't mind telling me more about this Ulseil personage, would you?"
Mogget gazed back just as hopefully. "You wouldn't mind getting me a refill, would you?" he asked as though she hadn't said anything at all.
Kagael sighed. The old cat was being stubborn again. But she had learned that when he was stubborn, you couldn't get a single word more out of him than he chose to say, so arguing, begging, and whining were all futile. Instead, she scooped up the empty and licked-clean bowl and obliged.
When Mogget was happily lapping again, Kagael set out a fresh roll of light parchment and ink and proceeded to write a letter to her mother. It had occurred to her that Lirael might've been so distracted by the urgency of the summons that she hadn't paid attention to the names mentioned in the letter. So, Kagael decided to inform her mother of what she had found out.
After she had finished the letter, Kagael realized how terribly worried she felt for her mother. She added a "P.S. Be very careful", but it seemed so stupid upon reading the letter out loud that Kagael blotted it out and wrote "I miss you; take care" instead.
Mogget watched the young woman leave to get a messagehawk with an unreadable expression on his furry face. The little cat's ears twitched, but he didn't speak until he heard Kagael's soft footsteps descending the steps.
"The threads of fate are tangled indeed," the small cat uttered in a whisper that would have been impossible for human ears to find coherent. "How are things going for you, Walker, old friend?"
---
A large black dog was lounging on the floor; its ears perked at the sound of footsteps through the locked door, coming down the hall towards the room. The dog recognized the familiar sound of its master's boots and continued to laze.
It was a sparse room—the unadorned bedchamber of one who did not spend much time in it. There was a bed at one corner; the dog sprawled beneath it.
There was a series of clicks and a hiss of marks flowing through the ensorcelled metal of the lock, then the door swung open and a young man stepped in. His garnet eyes were tired, but otherwise his face showed only annoyance. He wore dark armor with red metal plates, but the coat was hanging open to the waist and the thin, white sleeveless tunic he wore beneath was visible. The laces of the tunic were hanging loose.
The young man threw himself onto the bed where he reclined with a languid grace, glaring fiercely at the ceiling and muttering angrily under his breath.
"Now, now," came a muffled voice from under the bed, "I'm sure Commander Noegduch isn't as incorrigible as that."
The young man sat up and gave a lackadaisical laugh. "Heh. I'm sure no one's worse 'n you, bitch." It would've been biting if his tone hadn't been a fond one.
The dog wriggled out from under the bed and gazed up at her master with doleful amber eyes. "Your harsh words hurt me deeply, Gwidhe," she barked mournfully.
Gwidhe leaned over the side of the bed and scratched the dog behind her ears. "Aren't you sulky today, love," he chortled.
"Am I supposed to be in high spirits?" the dog asked, thoroughly enjoying the scratching yet intent on being exasperating. "You disappear for a week only to reappear smelling like smoke and reeling like a drunk. Then after stinking up the room for five minutes you're whisked off for chastisement and I don't see you again for two days. I'm sure that makes any dog deliriously happy."
Gwidhe's hand paused. "Noegduch confiscated my rapier, you know." He sounded resentful. "Said he'd give it back when I had 'better judgement'. The bastard."
"I'd say burning Navis to the ground was quite a lapse of judgement."
"I was set up."
"Oh. And how is that?" The dog cocked her head.
"It all started with the Clayr wench I was sent to kill."
"Mmhm. Mind explaining that?"
"The Lord Prince has spies in the Glacier, mainly to keep an eye on the sleeping entities of our kingdom that reside in their library. The Clayr's Library—"
"No need to go into that," the dog told him, "for I am well informed of many aspects of the Glacier, the library in particular. You see, I was once one of the sleeping entities you speak of, albeit not of your kingdom. I am of no one and nothing but a residue of the Beginning. Oops, I digress; go on, young master."
"Prince Sulumor has been working on waking and leashing these creatures for years," Gwidhe said. "And now his labors are proving effective. He has done all that is in his power to thwart the wakings from the visions of the Clayr, but the Sight is a powerful gift to trifle with."
"I know."
"It was known by seers in the Lord Prince's service that sooner or later, one of the stronger Clayr would See. His agents in the Glacier managed to keep her from spreading the news, destroying her letters and obliterating the words from her mouth when she tried to tell. They did everything short of physical harm to her. Finally, the Clayr knew she had to inform the Royal family. So she left in a paperwing." Gwidhe's face deepened in a scowl. "That was when I was dispatched to do away with her. I don't understand why they couldn't have killed her themselves in the Glacier."
The Dog stretched. "It is nigh on impossible to kill a Clayr within the Glacier, unless of course she actually met one of the waking entities." She paused, as though remembering something. "This Clayr wasn't a Librarian by any chance?"
"I have no idea. I got rid of her before she even left the glaciers. It was somewhere sharp and dangerous, hard to find unless they conducted a careful aerial search." Gwidhe sounded rather proud. Then his eyes clouded and his voice grew troubled. "I don't...fully recall what happened next."
"You burned Navis...?" the Dog prompted.
"Yes. I know that. But I don't clearly recall what happened exactly. The citadel was above the clouds somewhere close by, following me, but Commander Noegduch didn't call me back. I decided to fly clear of the glaciers and head northeast to the sea, ditch the wing and return to base."
"But you landed at Navis and burned the place down? With Free Magic and two master Charter marks?" the Dog sounded skeptical. "You must have been possessed."
"You think?" Gwidhe was silent for a long time. "I do recall something. When I was in the fire, before I must have passed out. I thought I was Hedge. I thought I was my father. I felt like a Free Magic spirit clad in human flesh. There were...fires within me. In my eyes, my mouth, dripping from my fingertips. It was a fire that water could not have extinguished. I wasn't burning, but everything else was. At least, that's how I felt..." His voice trailed off.
"I know," the Dog said huskily.
They simply sat there for a while, him with his hand draped limply over her buzzing collar. Then the Dog's ears perked as footsteps came loudly down the hall. They belonged to a servant of the citadel. Gwidhe couldn't hear, but the Dog heard the servant report something. Moments later, a magically magnified voice belonging to the Commander boomed through the entire castle.
"We have been summoned back to the capital by the Lord Prince Sulumor. Citadel will be departing at once. Wing Commander Gwidhe Venyeiya Ulseil report to me immediately."
Gwidhe got up with a moan and a string of curses.
"Tsk," said the Dog as Gwidhe straightened and fastened the coat of his uniform armor. "With an attitude like that, young man, don't be expecting your sword back anytime soon."
Gwidhe ignored her. He stepped out of the room and slammed the door.
---
Kagael had a dream that night, and it was vividly real.
She was locked in mortal combat with a fire demon. The creature was much like the way Hedge was described in the book and wielded a sword that was a tongue of flame. Kagael felt slightly departed from her dream-self, yet at the same time she was caught up in the vision.
Sparks flew as her Charter-spelled sword met the flaming one of her opponent. Kagael had never been in a real fight before; her mother and her cousin Prince Sameth were the ones who had taught her to use a sword. Other than practice, there had only been friendly sparring with her cousin and her brother. In the dream it grew increasingly hard for her to catch her breath. The demon's blows were deliberate and measured. He seemed to be delivering them methodically, keeping up a steady rain of strokes without any intention of defeating her.
Kagael didn't know why she felt so afraid.
To her horror she noticed that the marks on her blade were sputtering and going out. She struggled to find them again, to pull them out of the Charter and cast them in the metal. But the marks that flew from her fingers dissipated before they reached the sword.
Frantic, Kagael called out more marks, drew them in the air, cast them, but they were all useless. There were only two dim marks left on her sword, near the hilt. Then even they were gone.
Her blade broke as the demon's struck again. The shards of metal rained in all directions and Kagael threw up her arms to shield her face.
She felt nothing.
In her dream, she lowered her arms, slowly, tentatively. Someone was before her, and it was not her attacker.
It was a large black dog. Kibeth, from the Dark Mirror! Except this Kibeth had wings—large, black feathery wings the sprouted from her shoulders.
Kagael remembered her mother searching for the soapstone figure, and blurted out, perhaps by accident, "Where are you? Mother can't find you anywhere! Are you going to come back?"
The Dog's large amber eyes were sad. "She should know," Kibeth replied huskily, "My time with her has passed."
Kagael felt an infinite sadness, though whether it was from without or within she could not tell.
"The threads of fate are tangled indeed," the Dog continued, her voice and body growing dimmer and more distant as she spoke. "Someone must have found their way to where the Fates conspire...someone...set...those threads...on fire..."
"What?" Kagael called after the Dog. But there was no one there.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Author's Note: Next chapter, Torrigan (Touchstone) former king of the Old Kingdom pays the Emperor of Orkaire a visit. I know I promised that this wouldn't be a boring chapter, but there was so much explaining to do I couldn't help it. Let's keep hoping the next installment won't be so tedious...
HOWEVER there shan't be another chapter unless I receive at least three new reviews. :D Evil and demanding, aren't I?