Let's have a nice, big round of applause for Janet S., my first flamer! -
And now here's that chapter that I meant to post simply AGES ago… Kagael is 15 years old, btw; Sameth erringly says that she is 16 in Chapter 6.
DISCLAIMER: "Abhorsen", all names, places, and related indicia are the sole property of Garth Nix, whose work I hold in great admiration. The Ulseils, Venyeiyas, and Orkaire belong to me.
CHAPTER TEN: Receiving the Destroyer
Lirael sat at the table with her hands clasped before her, fingers of flesh and those of organic gold entwined. Her grave dark eyes were strangely distant, and her hair obscured a face that was pale yet fevered and bloodless lips pressed tight to form a thin line. Sweat beaded at her nose and brow, and it did not take a careful observer to see that she was shaking.
There were a number of sorcerers in the room with Lirael, watching her. The one standing closest to the bare table and Lirael had her bell bandolier draped over his left arm; in his right hand he held Saraneth.
"That will be all for now," the sorcerer with the bells spoke, his voice toneless. "Stop your struggling."
"How dare you…order me?!" a voice crackled from Lirael's throat. It was not her voice, and it sounded indignant—beyond indignant. It seethed and roiled with an anger that rippled the stillness of the room itself.
"I ask you not to struggle," the sorcerer repeated, and his voice showed unease as he rang Saraneth. The air filled with its commanding knell.
Lirael panted hoarsely and tendrils of smoke were emitted from between her parted lips, came curling from her nostrils as blind, frightened eyes watered, reddening. Her hands skittered across the cold surface of the table as sweaty fingers tried to gain a hold on the smooth wood; a separate force within her prevailed, however, and the unwilling hands moved to clench the table's edge.
"Fools!" the entity within her growled. A portion of the table splintered; blood mixed with the sweat on Lirael's fingertips. "I cannot be contained in the body of the one who clove me in two! I will destroy her like the last one, and then I will destroy all of you!" The voice was writhing now, and the Abhorsen convulsed, hyperventilating and discharging more smoke.
"Pity, Orannis," said a new voice from the doorway. "Are you still dreaming your feverish dreams?"
"You!" the Destroyer shrieked. Smoke billowed and Lirael's body stiffened, hands clenching painfully tight. Lines of blood formed on her palms, running down her wrists. "You were the one who woke me from my slumber 'neath the hills!"
"Yes, that's right," rejoined Prince Sulumor. "It was I."
"When…when I destroy this body, I will kill you…I will kill you and rend your soul asunder! Then my hounds will lacerate those fragments still further until such that even the strongest of the Dead could not make the limping journey through the Gates!" Steam and smoke poured, swirling, to fill the room, which grew intensely hot.
Sulumor remained unperturbed. He even stepped into the infernal chamber. Not a single drop of sweat was upon his brow, while the others in the room were fairly roasting. "Then I apologize, Orannis, for I must disappoint you further," the Prince of Orkaire declared, his voice cloudless and piercing through the smoke. "We have prepared many strong mages in which to host you until the time comes to sacrifice you for the breaking of the Charter—"
"Release me, mortal, and I will break the Charter!"
"That is what I intend to do. However, I do not desire the world to erupt in flames like in your dreams." Sulumor smiled and spoke a spell. It was unmistakably Free Magic, yet the scent of new leaves and cold wind permeated the steamy air. "I will cover the world in springtime and snow.
"But as for now, Orannis, do not think that your anger intimidates me. I will not allow you to extinguish your current host, or the next, for they are extremely valuable specimens of power wielders. Waste not, want not, as they say."
Orannis could only utter shrieks of rage. The room was very cold now; ice rimed the broken edge of the table. "You will fail…" It cried, livid but helpless. "You will fail!"
"Mage Vogsako Kuemata," Sulumor addressed the sorcerer with the bells. "Take Goldenhand out in the snow to cool off. I have wasted enough time here. The Ulseils have returned and I have need to speak with them."
"Immediately, Your Highness." The sorcerer sheathed the bell in his hand and reached up to wipe the cold sweat from his hooded face before it froze.
"And when you are finished you might like to see you granddaughter? Odessa was recently conscripted as part of the Citadel crew."
Vogsako was pulling the trembling Lirael to her feet. "Yes, I suppose—" he stopped as the Abhorsen said something in a broken voice. "What was that?"
Lirael, through her haze of pain, had caught a bit of what Sulumor was saying. "…Daughter…" she choked. "My daughter…" A shudder ran through her body as she drew a raspy breath and she coughed violently, almost collapsing.
"The woman's burning up," Vogsako commented, pulling her out of the chair.
"Hurry, then, and get her outside. I've got to go." Sulumor left briskly down the hallway, headed for the command room to meet with General Noegduch and the Ulseil brothers.
Vogsako, still strong despite his years, half-dragged, half-carried, and made good time getting the Abhorsen out of the Citadel. The moving castle had been anchored over the glaciers. It was now taking off, east, towards the sea. A thin layer of snow had formed on the black stone platform outside, and Vogsako lowered Lirael onto it. He alerted one of the patrols to the fact that she was there, then reentered the fortress.
Lirael lay unmoving in the snow. Her breath came shakily and her eyes were closed. She turned her head slightly to press her burning cheeks to the snow. "Kagael," she whispered. "Nicholas…Daniel." Tears overflowed and froze stiffly on her lashes.
---
Kagael could see through the tall windows that the Citadel was on the move. Jagged formations of ice grew distant as the moving castle gained altitude. She sighed against the glass, misting up a patch. Quite suddenly, the doors to the bridge room swung open. Kagael turned, expecting Mihir or Gwidhe.
It was a young man, but he was a stranger. He had shoulder-length black hair and very bright blue eyes. He wasn't tall—only about Kagael's height. She thought he might be Estwaelan. "Hello," the young man said. "Are you Kagael Abhorsen?"
Kagael nodded. Who was he?
"I'm Elyras," he said, smiling. "I'm a mage, too." He sounded proud, happy, excited to be there. Elyras peered out the windows. "I see we're on the move again. We should be out on the sea soon."
"Where are we headed?" Kagael asked.
"Our next stop is Gjoa Haven, in two days. All the water and islands beyond that point will be Uncharted."
"Uncharted?"
"Well, you know. Out of the Charter." Elyras said a little impatiently.
"You mean the Charter doesn't exist beyond Gjoa Haven?"
Elyras frowned. "Don't you know?"
"…I've only just arrived. I hardly know what's going on," Kagael said quietly. "I don't know why I'm here."
Elyras looked at her, silent. Then he said, "Oh." There was a slightly awkward pause, wherein he tried to decide what to say. "I've been here for three years now," he said finally. "I wasn't born a mage, you know," he continued, gaining confidence as he spoke. "I was spirited away at twelve and brought to the academy of Orkaire. I don't know what they did, but one day I woke up, and I could feel the Charter at the back of my head…" he trailed off.
"Anyway, about the Uncharted," he recommenced brightly, "It hasn't always been that way. It was far from where mages actually wielded Charter Magic, so the Charter was weak. Lord Sulumor traveled there and found a point where…" Elyras gestured vaguely.
"Threads?" Kagael prompted, tilting an eyebrow.
"Yes, where separate strands could be made out of the giant weaving that is the Charter."
"I don't understand," Kagael said, unable to picture it.
"Don't worry," Elyras said. "It'll all be clear soon enough."
Kagael frowned. She wasn't sure she wanted it to.
"Come with me," Elyras said, pulling open the doors. "I'm to take you to your room."
She followed him out into the hallway, and then down many more. In her mind, the interior of this Citadel was beginning to resemble a catacomb. It was extremely large, and most surely required an enormous crew to run.
"Mostly mages," Elyras told her when she asked, "though we do have scores of engineers down below."
Kagael decided to ask more; Elyras seemed so naively friendly and willing to answer. "Speaking of mages, are there others here, you know, like you and me?"
Elyras nodded. "I thought you would at least know that," he said. "Your mother, Goldenhand, and Lady Sabriel are here."
Kagael stumbled. "They're here..? Where?"
She must've gone pale or wide-eyed, or both. Elyras frowned a little. "Don't look so frantic," he said, stopping. "I assure you, they're safe. Lord Sulumor won't let any of us die."
"Die?" Kagael's voice was beginning to resemble a whimper. "What… Are they hurting Mother and Aunt Sabriel?"
"My goodness, no! The sorcerers wouldn't hurt us!" Elyras sounded a bit indignant. "Don't fret, Kagael. I'm sure they'll let you see your mother and aunt soon."
Kagael shook her head. "No, no…don't you see? Something terrible is going on! This Lord Sulumor, he's the disowned elder prince of Orkaire and he's using us for something. Gwidhe Ulseil burned down Navis and they used it as a lure for Mother. He kidnapped me. Don't you get it, Elyras? You were kidnapped when you were twelve. We're all…tools for Orkaire in some plot to destroy the Charter and—"
She was cut short and rammed against the wall by an unseen force. Kagael looked up, mouthing soundlessly at the blue-eyed boy wielding Free Magic to obliterate her words.
Elyras' face had changed, his bright eyes now dark with anger. "You must be unwell," he said, his tone bland. "I don't know why else you would say such things, but in any case I can't let you speak of Lord Sulumor this way. He is the promised one come to lead us to a pure, new world. And Lord Ulseil is an example of what we mages should strive to be.
"Let's get you to your room now; you appear to need some rest." With that, he pivoted and continued walking, only turning to look back at the corner to see that she followed.
Kagael couldn't think straight as she hurried after Elyras. Nothing here was what it first seemed. She worried terribly after her mother and aunt. Who were these sorcerers? And Gwidhe…an exemplary mage? What sort of society looked up to a sadistic freak?
Tears of frustration burned in Kagael's eyes, and she blinked them away. Helpless and uninformed, that's what she was. Helpless.
---
A pounding awakened her in the middle of the night. Kagael scrambled out of the covers just as the door to her chamber opened. A man in dark ceremonial dress stood framed in the doorway, the lighted hallway behind him making his hooded face hard to discern.
"Kagael Abhorsen," he spoke, and from his voice she could tell he was an elderly man. "Come with me."
"What for?" she asked.
"To see your mother," he replied, "now."
Kagael was dressed in a nightgown, so she reached for her clothes folded up on the bedside chair.
"You won't need that," the robed man said. "We haven't any time to waste."
"Is something the matter with Mother?" Kagael asked, hurrying to the door.
The man rang Kibeth then, drawing the bell from the folds of his robes. Kagael found herself sprinting down the hallway before him, her feet seeming to know the way.
She stopped, finally, upon entering a room that was burning hot. She was vaguely aware that Gwidhe was in there, too, conferring with a tall, dark-haired man. But Kagael's eyes were riveted upon the figure crouched against the far wall beyond the panel of glass, which separated the room into two.
"Mommy?" she cried, running forward. The woman's eyes were closed, and jets of steam flowed from her nose and mouth as she took laborious breaths. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. "What have you done to her?!" Kagael turned to shriek at Gwidhe and the dark-haired man.
"Mage Vogsako," the dark-haired man said without taking his gaze off Kagael's frenetic face. "It will be any moment now. Prepare the girl for the transfer, quickly."
"What have you done to my mother?!" Kagael wailed as Lirael convulsed, then began to retch. Silvery liquid trickled from the Abhorsen's mouth, leaving burns.
The elderly man in dark robes who had come to Kagael's room now took her by the wrist and began pulling her through the door in the glass panel. More robed men came, dragging Kagael past her mother to a cot nailed against the wall. She was strapped down, screaming. The commanding clang of Saraneth filled her head and her limbs went limp. A terrible pain started in the hollow of her throat as something sharp jabbed into her. Kagael choked back a cry.
As her vision went black with the tinkling chimes of Ranna, she could feel a burning intensity flowing through her body like blood. I'm dying, Kagael thought with certainty. I'm burning up.
Gwidhe watched the sorcerer's feed the spirit of Orannis into Kagael's blood.
"I don't believe it," he remarked to Prince Sulumor as the girl finally went still. "You'd think that the transfer would kill Kagael."
"Hmm," Sulumor responded. "That went incredibly smoothly. But then, Goldenhand's daughter has enormous aptitude for containing Free Magic, more so than Lirael and Sabriel combined. Perhaps with this Kagael we could spare young Elyras."
"It's uncanny," Gwidhe said, shaking his head as he moved over to the glass. "Kagael seemed like such a wimpy mage to me."
"You contradict yourself," Sulumor chuckled. "You only just told me this morning that she required the strongest shield you've ever had to construct."
Gwidhe grunted, choosing not to answer. He stepped through the glass panel, a Free Magic flame bobbing in his hand. The sorcerers moved slightly away from the cot as the young mage approached. Unceremoniously, Gwidhe tossed the flame at Kagael.
An intense wave of heat energy reflected back at him and Gwidhe found his breath knocked out of him as he was battered against the glass wall. He staggered to his feet and turned.
Kagael had pulled herself up into a sitting position. She had her head in her hands and her shoulders heaved with each breath. Finally, she seemed to have gained some control of herself; she lowered her shaking hands from her face.
"Leave me alone," she said in a raspy, sobbing whisper. "Stop hurting me!" She stumbled from the cot as Gwidhe stared, and crawled across the icy floor to where Lirael lay, comatose, in her corner. Kagael placed her arms around her mother as best she could. Then she lost consciousness.
---
The next morning after breakfast, Mihir went to see Gwidhe in his room. He knocked on the door and a ginger-haired young woman opened it.
"Odessa!" Mihir exclaimed with mild surprise. "I see you got General Noegduch to give a position on board."
Odessa smiled. "Why you sound surprised, Mihir. Did you doubt I'd get that position?"
Mihir laughed. "Not at all. You're the most assertive person I know, second to Gwidhe."
Mihir entered Gwidhe's room and found him sitting on his bed, fiddling with the green statuette of Kibeth. Mihir had a slight start from seeing it, but managed to shove the feeling away. He wasn't ready to talk about that with his friend. Not yet.
Gwidhe looked up with a wry sort of smile. "Morning." He looked tired, as though he hadn't slept well. Also, his tunic was sleeveless so Mihir could see that there were bruises on his left arm.
"What happened?" Mihir asked, looking at the bruises as he took a seat on the bed next to Gwidhe. Odessa shut the door and pulled the chair over from Gwidhe's desk and sat down.
Gwidhe glanced at his arm and made a face. "Kagael," he said shortly.
"What?" Mihir let out an unbelieving chuckle. "She did that to you?"
"We transferred the Destroyer last night," Gwidhe explained in a tired tone.
"Already?" Mihir looked concerned. "Is Kagael all right?"
"She's absolutely fine," Gwidhe replied. "Went right to sleep afterwards. Well, after she threw me against the wall with Free Magic. Acted like nothing was wrong; you wouldn't be able to tell there was a malevolent deity possessing her body."
"You did say she had a lot of potential as a mage," Odessa chipped in.
"Did I?" Gwidhe frowned.
"Anyway, like I was saying before Mihir knocked, you should either try to get some sleep or at least eat something," Odessa sighed.
"You haven't eaten yet?" Mihir inquired. "You're not feeling well, are you?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't take good care of yourself," Odessa observed offhandedly.
"Will you two stop badgering me?" Gwidhe exclaimed in a sudden burst of temper. "Sometimes you make me really glad I never knew a mother."
Odessa winced at his outburst. "Sorry," she said. "You know I really missed you, and I didn't get to see you yesterday, so I thought I could talk to you this morning."
"We'll come back later," Mihir suggested tactfully, though Gwidhe's words had hurt him. His friend had been orphaned at a young age, and it was Mihir's mother who had raised him like her own son while his older brother Sidhegureth was away at the military academy. Mihir and Gwidhe had grown up like brothers.
"No," Gwidhe said, shoulders slumping. "I'll come find you two for lunch." His tone was apologetic.
"All right then," Odessa said. She followed Mihir out of the room.
"You shouldn't take it personally," Mihir said to Odessa as they walked down the hall. "He's really glad to see you, only Gwidhe's never been a morning person, and today is a particularly nasty morning for him."
"Yeah," Odessa sighed. "I know."
"So," Mihir ventured, "How have you been?"
"All right." She paused. "I saw Daven yesterday. I think he hates me now."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"Of course. But he scares me, when he looks at me."
Mihir watched Odessa's face change with the memory of something she'd much rather forget. "It's Gwidhe he hates—you know that. He wouldn't do anything with Gwidhe here, and your grandfather. He hasn't spoken to you…?"
"He said hello."
"It's best to forget about it." Mihir patted her on the shoulder cheeringly. "I'll be off now. See you at lunch."
Odessa nodded. "See you then."
---
For one whole day, Kagael wandered around as if in a daze. She tried to ask people to take her to Lirael; she wanted to see if her mother was all right. Once she saw the old sorcerer from last night, but he would only say that Lirael was fine and refused to take Kagael to her. Kagael saw Elyras several times throughout the day, and he was as cheery as ever. For some reason, his brightness gave her a headache.
Sometimes, Kagael would find that the things beneath her hands grew intensely hot when she touched them. It frightened her, and she knew that it had something to do with what the sorcerers had done to her the other night.
She didn't meet Mihir or Gwidhe at all that day, and no one she asked would tell her what was wrong with her. Elyras would only look at her strangely, and then his good spirits would become irritating again.
That night as Kagael was falling asleep, something inside her spoke.
You are my host now. Kagael.
"Who are you?" Kagael cried, sitting bolt upright.
I am the Destroyer, Orannis. You know me. Your mother was the one who sliced me in half.
Kagael stiffened with fear. Had she been possessed?Don't fear. I'm not here to take my revenge. I am not here of my own choice. Let us cooperate and find a way out of this…predicament together.
"Wh-what are you talking about?"
You don't want the Charter unraveled, do you? And I do not wish to be sacrificed. Let us liaise, and we will both benefit.
"What do you want?" Kagael demanded, no longer afraid, having overcome the initial shock of being addressed by the evil spirit.
The mage, Ulseil. He is the son of one who once served me. Hedge failed me, but his son will not. I want you to bring me to him.
The voice paused, and Kagael noticed that she'd been holding her breath. As she began to breathe again, Kagael felt a strange sensation within her, vibrating. Then she realized that It was laughing.
"Something amusing?" she asked, trying to make her tone hard. However, she knew that Orannis could sense her uncertainty.
Oh yes, It chuckled, very amusing. To think that I am trapped within the offspring of my downfall, and asking for her help. But you will help me. The Destroyer's voice was poised, because It knew that It was right. You have no choice.
And Kagael knew that, too.
O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O
Author's Note: Boring, dark chapter after a long wait.-sigh- I Deserve flames. Oh well.
Next: Chapter 11: Gjoa Haven…the plot thickens. Oh, and Kagy's birthday is coming up, so she'll be turning 16.