FATE SPEAKS LOUDLY

The woods around them were plunged in the darkness of night. But there were flashes all around. A huge storm was looming over Brocéliande. Kenneth looked around. There was no trace of the warlocks for now. Professor Potter and Lockenburn exchanged a look with Thierry and him.

"Alright," said Potter. "I want you two to be very careful, okay? I don't want your deaths on my conscience, so you make out of there alive."

"Right, sir," said Kenneth with a dark smile.

"Good," said Potter. "Now what do we do?" he asked Thierry.

Thierry looked around to find out where they were. Then he nodded.

"The Grove is that way," he said.

They all followed him across the statues of the Temple. At some point, they walked into two sentries wearing warlock's' robes. They hadn't heard them come close, so Kenneth immediately waved his wand and stunned them silently. Potter nodded in congratulations.

Kenneth didn't put his wand back in his sheath. He preferred to have it in his hand for now. A way to keep his confidence.

"It's only prudent, Kenneth," said Lockenburn, when Kenneth told that to the teachers. "I am, for my part, much more at ease when you have your wand out."

Kenneth smiled back.

They reached the edge of the woods. There, Thierry seemed to wait for a second. He was looking in the bushes, as if he was trying to pierce darkness with his gaze. And Kenneth was trying, to, but in vain. There was no way he could see anything in the dark of the Grove.

Suddenly he heard something. Something like a musical neighing. It was strange, as if the sound was suddenly easing his heart. He was feeling more at peace, and he was definitely feeling stronger.

Before he could question this strange phenomenon, she was here. Kenneth recognized her at once. It was, again, one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his life.

Ivoire trotted toward them and stopped in front of Thierry. She rubbed her nose against his cheek with another note, as if she understood that the young man was in pain.

"Yes, love," said Thierry, on a hoarse voice. "Master Walter is dead. And I need you to take me to the Core, so I can prevent his assassins from getting the Staff. I know you're the Guide, Ivoire. Can you help us?"

"Of course," whispered Potter. "The Unicorn's Head."

"Symbol of Merlin," said Lockenburn, nodding. "How amazing. Too bad the circumstances are not as happy."

Ivoire, suddenly turned back to the Grove, and jumped in the next bushes. She stopped, and with a short neigh, invited them to follow her.

"Thank you, Ivoire," said Thierry.

They entered the woods, trying to keep up with the pace of the Unicorn. Kenneth was troubled.

"I'm pretty certain Ivoire wouldn't help the Warlocks to get into the Core," he said.

"No," said Thierry. "But they must have found some way to find it inside the Grove. This is the way the Key works. It allows us passage, but we need a guide. They used Magic. We rely on Ivoire. What we are taking now is the Path of the Righteous."

"Wow," said Kenneth.

"Don't worry," said Thierry. "It's only a matter of speaking. We just surrender to the Guide to lead us to the Core. She doesn't read our very heart, you know. Besides, she already likes you, so you don't have to worry about anything."

Kenneth smiled at that.

They walked through the Forest for a long time. Soon, Kenneth started to wonder what was going on. From the Outside, the Grove wasn't looking that large. Kenneth looked up to the darkened sky and saw that the Storm was raging on. And suddenly, lightning illuminated the night. And Kenneth caught sight of Mountains around him. Mountains that were so high and so close that he couldn't have missed them before. He turned to Thierry, who had seen the same thing. They exchanged stupefied looks. Behind them, they heard Professor Potter chuckle.

"Merlin really was a genius," he said.

"What do you mean?" asked Alexander.

"No wonder no one can get to the Core by Portkey," said Potter. "The Whole Grove is like a travelling place. I don't know where we are, but we're not in France anymore. This place is away from Brocéliande. And it's maybe beyond our very world. That's why we need a Unicorn to lead us through the mystic barriers leading here. We may even be in what the legend calls Avalon. The Unicorn opens a passage to us, and we get to the real place where the Core is hidden. You could search the Grove endlessly, without finding any trace of the Core."

"Mist Travel," said Lockenburn.

"Yeah, possibly," said Potter.

"Mist Travel?" noted Kenneth.

"Honestly, Kenneth, we don't have time to explain the theories of the Mist, right now," said Potter. "I'm not even sure I understand it all."

"And that explains the Storm," said Alexander.

"How?" asked Kenneth.

"The Warlocks must have used a spell to break through and enter the place. The instability resulting in this is that storm. I can feel it's not a natural one. You really did the right thing, Thierry. If we hadn't found Ivoire, we would have been lost in the many ways this portal can open."

"How come nobody knows about it?" asked Kenneth. "I can't believe no Master was clever enough to raise his nose when entering the Grove with a Unicorn."

"They keep that secret," said Thierry. "To make sure nobody would get there until he is ready."

"Tradition," snorted Potter.

"It has its use," said Lockenburn.

"Yeah, but it also can be a serious pain!" said Potter. "Without Thierry, how would have we known how to get in?"

"True," said Lockenburn.

"We're there," suddenly Thierry said.

Ivoire was gone. Thierry pointed to a clearing in the woods. And when they got out of the trees' shade, they saw a huge building, only lit by the lightning of the storm. It was a white stone temple. It had a huge door that had been torn open.

"They're here already," said Thierry.

"I don't think they're already gone," said Professor Lockenburn, pointing to two silhouettes guarding the door.

Kenneth took his aim, still hidden in by the edge of the woods. He waved his wand and the two guards suddenly fell on the ground.

Professor Potter threw him a surprised look. Kenneth smiled.

"I tried a sleeping charm," he explained.

"Nicely done," commented Lockenburn.

"Alright, let's go," said Potter. "We must expect trouble inside. I don't believe the warlocks would only come inside this place with two sentries only."

They headed to the entrance of the Core, and walked through the door frame.

It was leading into a huge flight of stairs, lit up only by torches on the walls. The torches were magical, Alexander could feel it. He was more decided than ever to stop the warlocks from violating such a place. Alexander could read the magic all around the Core, now and that magic was amazing. It was as if the whole place was bathed in wisdom, serenity and peace. That was almost overwhelming. That was a curious sensation, because it was marred by the feeling of emergency that Alexander was getting right now. The power coming from this place had been built slowly, stone by stone. Each stone of the place was bewitched.

The complexity of the building was so high that Alexander wasn't even sure he could understand fully the goal of these spells.

But that serenity coming out of everywhere in this place was now troubled by the presence of hateful people, that thought only of greed and power, if not even darker goals. And Alexander found that thought revolting.

"Alex?" asked Harry. "Are you alright?"

Alexander gave a start and realized that he was standing in the middle of the stairs, while the three others were walking down. Harry was sending him a quizzical look.

"I'm fine," said Alexander. "I was just caught by the aura of the place."

"We don't really need you to get spiritual and serene right now," said Harry.

"Trust me, it doesn't make me serene," said Alexander. "Not with those fanatics within these walls."

Harry nodded. They resumed their walk down the stairs. The whole place seemed underground. The rest of the building, over the surface, was only for the appearance.

Alexander thought of his pupil, Ian, somewhere in the Dark Forest, chasing a spy. He hoped that the warlocks wouldn't succeed in pushing Ian too far beyond the limit. A power like Ian's was dangerous, and his very actions could mean a disaster for the whole world. Alexander hoped that this would never happen. The day where he would have to chase Ian for a crime he couldn't forget.

It was the warlock's' way: violence, confusion and pain. It was all their fault. They mustn't succeed.

The four of them reached a landing, with some kind of balcony. A thin opening was seen in the walls that were going in a large circle, probably all over the Core and through that opening, they could hear the noise of numerous voices.

"Ok, we're in trouble," said Harry, who was looking down the opening.

Alexander joined him and saw a large Room, packed with people in robes. And those robes were clearly the ones of the Warlocks. More than a dozen… really much more…

"Well, our dear friends don't do things by half, apparently," said Alexander.

"How many do you think their are?" asked Harry.

"Too many for my peace of mind," said Alexander.

"More than a hundred," said Kenneth, suddenly.

"You've counted them?" asked Thierry.

"They have different colours on their hoods," said Kenneth. "I counted more than ten persons in red, and there are more than ten colours."

"Perfect," said Harry sarcastically. "If we have to retrieve the Staff from the grasp of a hundred warlocks, we will need reinforcements."

"No reinforcements could get here through usual ways," said Alexander. "Remember where we are?"

"So what do you suggest?" Harry asked.

"Quiet," said Alexander. "Look who's coming."

They all focused back on the large room, and they witnessed the entrance of a familiar figure; the tall witch walked with her usual seductive attitude. She was as beautiful as last time they had seen her and she still looked as deadly as ever.

Lilia, High Priestess of the Warlocks was officially back in their lives.

"No wonder we're in so much trouble," said Harry. "That crazy witch is completely mad and she hates us. She must have spent the whole year trying to get us where she wanted."

"And again, this year," said Kenneth, "we will defeat her."

"Glad to see you didn't lose your confidence," said Harry.

"Everyone is to search this place from top to bottom. Leave no stone unturned. The Staff is here somewhere. You must find it."

Harry and Alexander exchanged a look. So they didn't have the Staff yet. Lilia then turned to a man dressed in grey.

"Arthan, take your group in that direction. Once you've found the Staff, send your signal to me. Be warned, Arthan, if anyone else than I lays a finger on the Staff, your life is forfeit."

"Yes, Dame Lilia," said Arthan, standing up and leading a dozen warlocks in a darkened corridor.

"Arthan," said Alexander. "That name rings a bell."

"He's the maniac who tried to throw me into a chasm, last year," said Harry darkly. "An old friend, in a way..."

"Ah, yes, him," said Alexander. "You have to watch out," he told the two students near him. "He's vicious."

Kenneth nodded and Thierry only shrugged.

"I don't fear vicious men," he said.

"I can understand that, but don't go underestimate him," said Alexander. "He's powerful and dangerous."

"Dame Lilia!" shouted someone, getting inside the Room. "The sentries at the gates have been put under a sleeping Charm. We're not alone. Intruders are walking the temple."

"Find them and kill them!" ordered Lilia. "They mustn't find the Staff!"

"Alright, let's move it," said Harry. "They still don't have it! So the game is still on!"

"Great," said Alexander, with a smile. "You call that a game? We're four, facing more than a hundred Warlocks, and you call that a game! Sometimes, Potter, I think you're going mental!"

"Oh, come on, Alex, where has your taste for adventure gone?" said Harry, with a sly grin.

Alexander shook his head in disbelief, chuckled a little and started to gather his will. Now he was sure that his boldness was matched by Harry's in any occasion. They couldn't help but joke in front of mortal peril. Alexander was certain that Harry had gotten this from his heroic deeds alongside Ron Weasley. Him, well living with Phyllis sharpens the mind and helps to put danger into perspective. Kenneth hadn't lowered his wand since they had got in the Core Temple. Thierry was looking more determined than ever.

"There they are!" shouted a voice, from below the stairs. Their hiding place had been spotted!

A troop of warlocks appeared down there, their wands ready to strike as soon as they could. Harry suddenly threw something down the stairs. A little bottle, glowing with a red light...

It exploded at the feet of the Warlocks. A huge flash of red light exploded in the chamber. When it disappeared, the warlocks were all stunned.

"Wow," said Kenneth.

"I never thought I would ever say this, but I'll have to thank Snape for that," said Harry.

He got another phial out of his sleeves. It had a blue glow. They walked cautiously down the stairs, all their wands at the ready.

One warlock appeared and disappeared immediately, raising the alarm.

"Okay, follow me!" shouted Alexander, starting to run down the stairs. He extended his hands in front of him and sent a huge wave of energy down the stairs, clearing the way for him and his friends. They emerged in the large room, and found themselves facing more warlocks than they have ever faced in their lives.

"That was a great idea," said Harry sarcastically, throwing the blue phial in the middle of the crowd. It exploded, and a huge wave of shocking spells hit the warlocks in a large circle.

"Definitely handy," he commented, stunning another warlock.

"Stop them!" shouted Lilia, almost hysterically.

Alexander blocked one disarming spell coming at Harry and retaliated by sending its caster across the room, slamming him against the wall. Then he covered Thierry, who, with a large wave of his staff, sent a huge wave of fire towards the warlocks, who had to summon shield charms in a hurry, but just in time to be caught by Kenneth's fire whip.

Harry countered one Cruciatus from a high ranked warlock and deflected it on a wall, which exploded. A huge cloud of dust invaded the room, and spells ceased for a moment, waiting to get a clear sight of the opponent.

But, Alexander didn't need that. He simply cast a circling wave of energy all around him, and he heard many Warlocks fall on the ground, all hit square in the face.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning emerged from the dust cloud. It was aimed at Alexander, but Kenneth blocked it with a scream of rage.

"Why do you hide in the dust, Gareth!" he roared. "Are you that much of a coward?"

Alexander, surprised, turned to the Wandmaster. He had never seen him that furious since he had met him.

The dust was starting to settle down, when Kenneth saw him. Gareth was walking on Lilia's side, as she was heading for a door to exit the battle.

"Kenneth, we must get through this," said Professor Potter, taking advantage of the confusion to run across the crowd of Warlocks. "We must get to the Staff."

"No, you go," said Kenneth. "He's mine."

"Have you lost it?" countered Lockenburn. "He will…"

"I have to go after him," said Kenneth. "If he gets free, he has a chance to get to the Staff. He has the blood of the Knight. So he must have some knowledge on the matter. He mustn't get to the Staff!"

Potter seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he nodded.

Kenneth rushed into the crowd. The dust was now fading away, and the wands of the Warlocks were rising again. But nothing would prevent him from getting to Gareth. He furiously slashed his wand.

"Get out of my way!" he roared.

The spell that came out of his wand surprised him. It pushed away all of the warlocks that were standing between him and the door through which Gareth had disappeared.

He didn't stop to ponder that phenomenon. He ran after his cousin. He just stopped at the door, sending a last look to his companions.

Professor Potter, Professor Lockenburn and Thierry were reaching the door on the other side of the room. The one passed by Arthan. Potter and Lockenburn ran through it safely, but suddenly someone stood in the way of Thierry.

It was Ariel Entwistle. Kenneth wanted to help, but suddenly, from across the distance, the mysterious wizard locked eyes with Kenneth, who heard a voice in his head.

"This is necessary, young Kenneth," he said. "You have to trust me."

Ariel and his sister had always told Kenneth the truth, even if it wasn't the entire truth but Kenneth wasn't ready to trust him not to hurt his friend.

"He must be put on his path, said the voice. I won't hurt him."

Kenneth nodded and ran through the door. He had no time. He had to stop Gareth.

"Not that way, young Thierry," said Ariel Entwistle to the Novice.

Thierry stopped dead in front of the mysterious wizard.

"What?" said Thierry.

"You have to find another path," said Ariel.

He pointed to the right door, while the Professors had run through the left one.

"You'll have to trust me on this, young Thierry," said Ariel.

Thierry didn't take time to think and ran through the right door. He heard a rumbling sound, suddenly, and stopped to turn to Ariel. He was waving his wand in a very complex way, and suddenly, shot a spell right at the wall over the door, Thierry had just crossed.

The wall exploded and Thierry had to run faster to avoid being crushed by the stones falling from the ceiling, with the shockwave. That had been close! He got on his feet and then realised something.

He was cut off from the others. Ariel had made sure he wouldn't be followed. He looked around him and saw that he was alone facing a corridor. He tried to think shortly of his options, now. He knew the secrets of the Order like no other Novice, but still, he didn't know the inside of the Core. But still, he had the best chances to find what they had come for.

He lit up the top of his Staff and began running along the darkened corridor. He could still hear the sounds of battle resounding in the walls around him. The whole place was echoing of the sounds of the fight and of the storm outside.

"Alright, Thierry," he told himself. "You have to be quick on this."

He moved his glowing staff at wall near him, looking at the writings engraved in the stone.

The one looking for truth and knowledge will always know the way to the Heart of things.

It was an old precept of the Order. Thierry thought if it was a clue for the direction to take. Then he remembered the constructions of the Order... The first ones, following Camelot's design... And in these constructions, the library and archives, source of truth and knowledge were always built in the west part of the Citadel, headed toward the Island, toward England and Camelot, and beyond that, Atlantis.

"Show me the way," he said.

Walter's staff pulled him toward the end of the corridor where he came from, with a slight pressure on the left. That was the north. So the west had to be straight ahead.

Thierry resumed running, still lighting the path before his feet as he went.

I mustn't fail, he thought. I can't let those bastards get the Staff. I can't let Master Walter's mission abandoned. No way. I will find it.

He thought of all the victims of the Warlocks. He thought of Kenton, of Walter, of Chris Wagner, held captive for a whole year by their Spy. And he thought of Kieran, who had been almost killed by this monster. Thierry's thoughts went to Ian. He hoped Ian's wrath wouldn't make him go too far.

Herrigan was running as fast as he could. He hadn't planned on being discovered that easily and especially not defeated like this! What was that kind of magic? Lilia had warned him that Malcolm was powerful and dangerous. That was why Herrigan had always been careful to stay friends with him, through the gullible Ewan. But he hadn't thought that he was that powerful. He had been almost knocked out by the shock wave through the shack. Now he was running after him. Herrigan took a quick look over his shoulder and panic swept over him. He wasn't running! He was flying! He wasn't supposed to fly! Lilia had betrayed him! She would pay for it!

Herrigan suddenly ran out of the woods, emerging in a clearing of the Forest. But the darkness was still around him. He spotted a silhouette in the shadows of the trees, right in front of him. He froze on the spot. He cast a quick look behind him. Malcolm wasn't there anymore! He couldn't believe that he had escaped. Then he noticed something. The owl.

There was an owl, right on his left. And it was frozen, motionless in the act of taking off its perching. It looked as if time was stopped, except for him… and the silhouette in front of him. Herrigan started to panic.

"What kind of magic is this?" he asked.

"Mine," said the voice, coming from the shadow of the trees.

It was a woman's voice. The silhouette slowly walked out of the dark. It was a tall woman, with a softly rounded face, and a large hood over brown curls. She was dressed in black and gold. She was smiling mysteriously. The smile was tinted with disdain. She walked casually in the clearing.

"Who are you?" asked Herrigan.

"Somebody who despises the way you live," said the woman. "The way you use magic is disgusting. Your tastes are twisted and dangerous. You're an abomination of the wizarding world."

"Shut up!" shouted Herrigan, throwing his knife right at her heart.

The woman chuckled as the knife slowed down its course and stopped in mid-air. She smiled, as she took it carefully in her hand. She studied it for a moment.

"You spilled blood today," she said, "the blood of someone I respect and care for. I'll make sure you face the consequences of your actions."

"What are you talking about?" Herrigan said, starting to be scared.

"Time to assume your true from, Herrigan the Assassin," she said.

She waved her wand.

"Eoyela!" she said.

A wave of pain suddenly overtook Herrigan. It was as if suddenly his skin was melting. And when the pain subsided, he looked at his hands. They weren't the ones of a young eleven year old boy any more. They were the ones of his true form. He was taller, now, and when he touched his face, the skin showed no relief. It was the permanent mask that was now his true face, since he had gone through all these rituals, to become the ideal spy and assassin.

He turned to the woman.

"How?" he said.

"There are powers in this world that you don't even know about," said the witch." And you have made the mistake to upset them."

She looked over Herrigan's shoulder.

"Now it's the time for the test," she said.

"A test? And what am I supposed to prove?" asked Herrigan.

"Who said that had anything to do with you," said the witch. "You're the test, Herrigan, not the tested. You are so convinced you're untouchable, that your fate is already decided. No one can change your destiny. But this young one can change his. I'll make certain you don't escape him, now that you're outside the Hogwarts' limits."

She waved again, and spoke another word that Herrigan didn't understand. He suddenly felt like he was being squeezed in a vise. He felt like he was suffocating. Then the pressure lifted itself. The witch smiled and shook her head.

"So close to escape, and bound to fail," she said. "A sad story it would be, if I didn't despise you so."

Then she faded away. Herrigan got his wand out of his robes, trying to shoot something at her, but it was too late. The owl suddenly flew right by him, startling him. It was flying again! Time was going back to normal. Which meant…

Herrigan heard a furious roar when someone came charging at him and smashed him against one of the nearest tree. He tried to wave his wand, but there was a furious shout and the wand got snatched from his hand. A tight grip closed on his collar, nailing against the tree trunk.

Herrigan looked at the eyes of his attacker. It was the boy. He looked like he was possessed. And his eyes! Those terrible eyes shining with a blue light! Herrigan's wand was now in Malcolm's hand, and with a sudden crunch sound, Malcolm tightened his grip around it, snapping it in two.

Malcolm threw the remains of the wand away. He tightened his grip. Herrigan had killed dozens of people, he had done the worst things without flinching. He had often faced the persons who were close to his many victims. He had seen hatred and pain in their eyes. Sometimes a threat, but nothing more…

Today, he was seeing that the young boy in front of him could kill him. Fear started to insinuate inside of him.

Ian was looking at the face of the one that had killed Kieran. He was looking straight into his eyes. And all he could see was a huge void, tinted with fear. This man was nobody. He had no face, no sign of life in any of his feature. His face was an expressionless mask.

But he was afraid. Ian's thoughts were rushing through his head, furious, wild, and uncontrolled. He wanted to disintegrate this man, to blow him into ashes. He held him against the trunk.

The man was taller than him, now, too large for his schoolboy's robes. Ian didn't know how he had reverted back and he didn't care. All he knew was that this was the man who had spied on them the whole year, who had attacked two students, who had held Chris Wagner captive in a basement.

He was the one who had killed her.

I'll kill him, thought again Ian.

"You… you killed her," he said.

"Go ahead and kill me, then, boy!" said the spy, trying to sound confident and mocking.

But fear was laced in his words. And Ian heard it. He knew that the man feared him. He pulled him away from the trunk and, helped by the power inside of him, thrust him back against the tree. 'Wagner' let out a scream of pain. When he looked back at Ian, his eyes had changed. Now he knew. And now fear wasn't hidden anymore!

"You're going to die," Ian said between his teeth. "I'll kill you for killing her!"

Ian released him, and the spy fell on the ground, panting in fear. Ian raised a hand that began to charge and spark with furious lightning. He was gathering his will like never before. He wanted him to suffer. He wanted him to pay for what he had done. He wanted him to die!

The face of Kieran appeared in front of his eyes. Suddenly, Ian gasped. He felt like suffocating. What was he about to do? What was he thinking?

This wasn't him, he wasn't like this man. He wasn't the kind of person that kills and Kieran wouldn't want him to kill, especially not for vengeance. She wouldn't want him to become like this vile person before him, this creature that didn't even look human anymore.

Ian took a step back, panting heavily. He lowered his hand. The light in his eyes started to diminish. He couldn't do that. No. This wasn't him. His power didn't mean he got to do this. He couldn't. That was wrong, however evil that man was.

He fell on his knees, starting to cry. What had he been about to do?

He heard footsteps behind him.

"Ian! Don't do it!" shouted the voice of Professor Weasley.

Orlando appeared at the edge of the woods. Right behind him, there was Hermione. She was out of breath. She stopped in the middle of the clearing, looking at Ian, at the form against the tree. She suddenly sighed in relief. She joined Ian, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't do it," she said, with relief. "I was afraid you would do the worst."

"I couldn't… I wanted…" panted Ian.

"He doesn't deserve you becoming a murderer, Ian," she said. "Not you."

"He killed her… Kieran… He killed her…" said Ian.

"She's alive, Ian!" exclaimed Orlando. "Kieran is alive!"

What? Ian's mind suddenly cleared. Did he say that… He turned to Professor Weasley, with hopeful eyes.

"Is she…"

"Kieran is alive, Ian," said Professor Weasley. "You arrived just in time for us to save her. She's back in the Castle, by now. I'm sure she'll be okay."

Ian felt wondrous relief sweep over him. He felt his sadness leaving him. She was alive!

Suddenly, with a scream of rage, the spy moved. He jumped on Ian and Professor Weasley, pushing them to the ground. When he got on his feet, he had snatched Ian's wand from his robes. Before Ian could do anything, He had pointed it at Orlando.

"Crucio!" he shouted.

Orlando fell on the ground with a terrible scream. 'Wagner' turned to Professor Weasley, who was getting on her feet.

"Crucio!" he shouted;

"Protego!" countered Professor Weasley.

"Elastare!" shouted immediately the spy.

Professor Weasley was cast to the other side of the clearing by the shocking spell. Before she could do anything, the spy hit her with another Cruciatus Curse.

The scream of his teacher awoke Ian from his haze. The spy was walking slowly toward her, a satisfied grin across his face.

"Well, well, well," he said, with his distorted voice. "Seems like the girl was brave enough to hold on. Pity. But now, I have three poor lambs for my slaughter. Maybe my day won't be a complete waste, after all. Crucio!"

But Ian extended his hand, and the Curse rebounded on the shield he cast over Professor Weasley. The Spell went on to shatter the trunk of one tree. The spy turned to him, and smiled.

"The boy has awaken?" he mocked. "Interesting."

Ian got on his feet, and slowly, ready to counter any spell, stepped between 'Wagner', his teacher and his friend. The Spy shot him a disdainful look.

"Are you about to try again?" mocked Wagner. "You were not strong enough to kill me before, why would you now? And killing me is the only way for you to get out of this alive."

Ian didn't blink. The determination had replaced fear, rage or pain. Kieran was alive.

His own folly wouldn't cost the life of his teacher. He wouldn't let this happen. His eyes flashed again, with a clear blue light.

"I was strong enough NOT to kill you," he said. "But I won't let you hurt them."

Kenneth was now alone in the corridors. He knew that the whole place was packed with warlocks. Maybe the others needed his help, especially Thierry, separated from the others by Ariel Entwistle. But this was more important. He couldn't let Gareth escape. Gareth had Lionheart blood. He was more likely to find the secrets of this place than the warlocks. He needed to be stopped. There was no way that traitor could get near the Staff.

"Where are you, Gareth?" he said between his teeth.

He waved his wand, while running. The location spell dragged him on his right. He ran through a door.

And emerged in fire! The room was filled with fire geysers, and a huge chasm was running across the whole place. What was the use of such a place, Kenneth didn't know. He didn't care either. Because all he could see was Gareth and Lilia running on the other side of the chasm.

"Gareth!" he roared.

His cousin stopped as Lilia was reaching the door, and disappeared in the shadows beyond it. Gareth shot a look at Kenneth and shrugged with a smile. It was as if he was saying "What are you going to do now?" Kenneth narrowed his eyes. So he thought he could get away like that?

He removed something out of his robes. Something he had been carrying since the search for Kieran had begun: the dagger that Gareth had offered him for Christmas.

"Remember this, Cousin?" he said between his teeth, as Gareth was now running toward the door.

He took his aim and, threw the spell that was on the blade, and he threw the dagger right at the door frame. The thin blade shot through the air and hit the stone with a loud bang. The frame collapsed on itself, blocking the way out. Gareth stopped right before the debris. He took the dagger from the stone pieces. The blade was broken.

He turned to his cousin with a smile.

"Is this what you do with my gifts?" he asked over the fire abyss.

"It's not like I want anything from you," said Kenneth. "I can't stomach traitors, so I might as well give it back."

"With a broken blade?" mocked Gareth, walking closer to him, smiling wryly.

"I'm being careful," said Kenneth. "Less chance to stab me in the back with that, now."

"Oh, would you look at this!" laughed the traitor. "Behold Kenneth Lionheart the Wand of Justice. You are being ridiculous, boy. You play tough, right now, but you're nothing more than a scared child."

Kenneth slashed his wand through the air, and a shock hit Gareth on the cheek, on the other side of the room. The renegade let out a groan of anger. He had his wand in hand in seconds. He dropped the broken dagger.

"Who's scared, Gareth?" asked Kenneth.

"You're no match for me, Kenny, and you know it!" said Gareth.

"Last time you call me Kenny, Gareth," said Kenneth preparing himself for the duel.

Around them, flames were bursting out of the chasms in the ground. This was vision of Hell, as seen in the old books. In this Hell, Kenneth was about to face his own blood, his cousin,

His enemy.

DUN DUN DUN!