THE PRICE IN BLOOD

Alexander and Harry stopped when they heard the rumbling noise behind them. They then noticed that Thierry wasn't following them.

"Where the hell is Thierry?" shouted Harry.

"Oh no," said Alexander.

He pulled his wand out and waved it carefully.

"Locatio Thierry De Vannes," Alexander said.

The wand started to pull in a direction that was going steadily westward.

"He's moving," Lockenburn said. "So he must be alright."

"Are you sure he's not under some Curse?" Harry asked.

"He wouldn't run like that if he was," said Alexander. "I guess he's fine. We'll have to find him."

Sounds echoing from the hall got their attention. Shadows of warlocks began to be seen, cast on the wall near them.

"Alright, we'll see that later," said Harry, starting to run.

Alexander followed him quickly. They were followed closely by warlocks. Alexander waved his wand, channelling his will through the quartz inside of it. The shock wave that emerged from it was like an explosion in the middle of the corridor. Many hooded silhouettes got caught in the deflagration and went down. Alexander didn't stop running.

"Alright," panted Harry. "Now here is the situation. We're chased by an army. And we have two sixteen-year-old students lost inside this building. One is a Novice from the brotherhood of Merlin in quest for Merlin's Staff, and the other is a revengeful Wandmaster. Am I the only one who's worried here?"

"I'd say that they'll have a better chance of finding the Staff if we focus the attention of the Warlocks on us," said Alexander.

"So we make them chase us?" asked Harry.

"Exactly," said Alexander. "We make them run, we stun them, we knock the hell out of them, and we thin out their ranks as much as we can."

"Great, that is a plan," said Harry sarcastically.

"Shut up, Potter," said Alexander. "Where the hell is Thierry? I did a locator spell!" he exclaimed, as if he was really cursing fate for having separated the boy from them.

"And where the hell is Kenneth?" asked Harry, who was clearly worried about the young boy, now.

Kenneth and Gareth faced each other. Fire was everywhere, but it was ignored by both of them. It was as if the only thing they were aware of was the other. Their eyes were locked over the fiery chasm that separated them. And each one of their moves matched the other's.

"So, not only are you a mercenary, but you turn against our clan?" said Kenneth.

"What of it?" said Gareth, with a casual shrug. "Are you here to lecture me? Don't give me that. I already got the 'right and wrong' bit from my father."

"I still can't understand how you could lose your way like that," spat Kenneth.

"Lose my way? That's pathetic, Little Lion," said Gareth. "You all are, the whole bunch of you. I can't believe how thick you all were, trying to find me reasons. I've lost those illusions, long ago. I am only what I am, nothing more, nothing less, and that's still too much for you to handle, kid. You won't stop me."

"You're Bedevere and Valerie's son! How can you betray them like that!" shot Kenneth.

"Oh, so my father being all noble and self-righteous, I couldn't turn bad, is that it?" mocked Gareth. "There are exceptions to any rule. I mean how come you're so clever and managed to survive that long, after being raised by that stupid, arrogant bitch!"

"What?" repeated Kenneth.

"Yes, Kenneth, that was an insult against your mother!" said Gareth.

"I thought you were friends with my Mum," said Kenneth, feeling his blood run cold.

"I despised her, Kenneth," said Gareth. "Only I hid it well, for I knew I would lose the little support I had left in the family. Your mother brought us nothing but trouble, choosing to defend the Muggleborns against Voldemort. Because of her, we got involved in that War and look what we lost! How many dead, Kenneth? How many cousins did we lose to the Death Eaters, because your mother was too thick to sit this one out! This had nothing to do with us!"

"Your delusional, Gareth," said Kenneth. "You know that's not true! The Clan has stepped in the fight against Grindelwald, and Voldemort as well, even before Mum joined the family."

"I never said that she was the only one to blame," said Gareth. "All of those blind, well-meaning fools with their ideas of righteousness and glory. That's nonsense. There is nothing there! The only thing that matters is power. We have power. We get to use it as we see fit!"

"Power… Is that your justification for the murder of a man like Walter Amanio? The right of the strong?"

Kenneth could hardly believe what he was hearing. Could his cousin be so deluded?

"Amanio? He was weak, hiding behind tenants long gone, unable to see the power within his grasp. He didn't deserve to hold the secrets of the Core," Gareth retorted.

"How did you get these secrets?" asked Kenneth.

"There are things wimps like you and Potter won't dare to do," he replied, with another shrug. "Torture, and stuff like that... Very useful, though. I only had to use that dagger once or twice to get my information. But this not something a brainwashed loser like you is ready to do, is it?"

Kenneth had heard enough. There could be no justification, no forgiveness, for Gareth's betrayal. It was time to end this.

"Shall we cut the nonsense?" he asked, his eyes blazing in anger. "I don't have all day."

"Playing tough again…" mocked Gareth. "That's actually cute, you know. You don't have any clue of what you're doing, do you? You don't even know why you are here!"

He darted his wand to Kenneth, but Kenneth easily blocked the attack, and deflected the lightning to a wall, that exploded at impact. Kenneth resumed his guard, his eyes still locked with Gareth's.

"I know why I'm here," said Kenneth. "I'm here to prevent you from betraying your blood."

"Betraying my blood? Didn't you hear what I just said? I've done this, years ago, Kenny," said Gareth. "My father was right about me, you know, even if nobody believed him. The whole family judged him too harsh, because he condemned me. So many of you sided with me, out of misplaced kindness, but he was right from the very beginning. Of course he knew. He was the best suited to know what I am. He has seen me grow. I've grown into a traitor and a murderer, from the 'bad seed not worthy of the Wand Gift' he called me, once. But the Gift is mine, and I use it as I please."

"This is not about the Gift," countered Kenneth. "I'm talking about the Lionheart blood. You won't betray our pledge to Merlin by helping these nutters from getting their clutches on the Staff."

Gareth's face went just a little stiffer.

"So you know about the Staff?" he said softly. "Too bad. I was hoping you could be convinced to let us be. But you're as stubborn as your Mother and Father. If your honour is as stake, you won't step down, will you?"

"Of course, you know I won't," said Kenneth.

Another geyser erupted fire right at his side, but he didn't move, his wand still pointed at his traitorous cousin. They exchanged one long meaningful look. Somehow, they were saying goodbye, after all these years of friendship. Kenneth pushed away the memories of Gareth playing with him in his father's garden, replacing them with the silhouette striking at Walter. Now, all he could see was an enemy.

"Alright then, Kenneth, to the death," shouted Gareth, raising his wand.

The real duel began, among the flames that erupted all over. Gareth and Kenneth were locked in a deadly dance, avoiding attacks and the fiery breaths from the earth. Their wands were tracing lines in the air. Light was flashing everywhere. And each time their spells met, energy cracked and exploded in thunderous claps. They fought without any of the duellists saying a word.

They came to an abrupt stop, face to face, still kept apart by the chasm that ran across the room. Below them, the fire was roaring madly. Kenneth held his cousin's gaze without blinking.

"You are actually pretty skilled, huh?" said Gareth, with a smile, which was, in fact, quite genuine.

"And you're sneaky," replied Kenneth. "Always trying to hit the back like that... You weren't fighting like this when sparring with Dad."

"That's my secret style," said Gareth. "I got it from my Father."

"I doubt that Bedevere would go the coward's route and try to hit someone in the back," said Kenneth.

"That's why I do it," said Gareth. "I'm the bad son, remember? You're good, Kenneth, but my experience will eventually best you. I'll be the only one to get out of this room alive."

"We'll see about that," said Kenneth.

Thierry turned right at the next corner. He emerged into a gigantic hall, filled with bookshelves. He knew where he was right away. This was the Archive of the Core. This was unbelievable! But he had no time to admire the Archive, right now. He had to find the way to the centre of the Core. The Real Core. Where the Staff was kept safe.

Okay, let's think, he told himself. You have to think how the Library can lead you to the Core.

Suddenly, the solution jumped in his mind. These were the Archives of the Core. So there had to be an Archivist… Thierry had heard of those spells where you thought of what you want to find buried deep into the heart of huge archives like the ones of the Ministries worldwide.

So there had to be a guide in here…

Thierry found it when he made a step towards the shelves. A small face appeared on his right, making him jump.

"What knowledge do you require?" asked the face.

It was nothing more than a mask, with big points as eyes and a line as the mouth.

"I'm searching for the Core," said Thierry.

"You are inside the Core," said the Archivist.

"No," said Thierry. "The Real Core, the centre of this place."

"What is your business in there?" asked the face.

"I must stop Warlocks of Atlantis from getting a hold of the Staff of Merlin," said Thierry.

There was a pause, as if the face was thinking about it. The eyes suddenly turned to him and started to glow. Thierry had the unpleasant sensation that he was being scanned by this look.

"Your name is Thierry De Vannes," said the Face. "And you're an Initiate of the Order."

"Initiate? But…"

"You carry the Staff of an Initiate," said the Face. "Your name echoes inside of it. It is yours. So you have to be an Initiate. "

"I just didn't know it was known all around the world," said Thierry.

"So you want to get to the Staff?" asked the Face.

"I want to protect it from the Warlocks," said Thierry impatiently.

"Then, you will have to get it and quickly," said the Face.

A door suddenly appeared in the right wall. Another corridor and a new flight of stairs was starting down from the door.

"You have to hurry, Initiate," said the Face. "The Warlocks are almost there."

Thierry nodded and started to run through the door. It seemed like he was getting down endlessly. When the stairs ended, Thierry stopped dead. He was surrounded by corpses. Warlocks. What had happened?

Thierry suddenly froze. He wasn't alone in the corridor.

"I couldn't let my men warn Lilia, could I?" asked the voice behind him.

Slowly, his staff in hand, Thierry turned to the voice's owner. His eyes narrowed. It was the man that Professor Potter had called Arthan. The man the teachers had faced the previous year.

"Is the little Novice ready to die?" mocked Arthan, with a sadistic smile. "Is he going to die for the the Staff?"

Thierry only held his staff ready, and faced his enemy.

They broke the duel once more. Kenneth caught his breath and regained his self-control, before the next battle. He had almost been beaten in the last bout. The walls of the cavern were scorched black with the number of spells that had hit. Gareth was also nearing exhaustion and was catching his breath. And yet, he was still taunting him.

"You know this is useless, don't you? You won't stop Lilia and her men," he said.

"Why would you even help them?" asked Kenneth. "They will destroy everything!"

"They offered me power," said Gareth. "I know you can't understand the attraction of power. You're too much like your mother. Sarah was such a noble soul. I hated that about her. Always too damn noble for her own sake. Sacrificing her life for the Order, wouldn't you vomit?"

"Your father could understand," said Kenneth. "You can't."

"And you can?" asked Gareth, mockingly.

"To save the life of friends," said Kenneth. "That is worth dying for!"

"Is it why you jumped in the ritual, last year? To save that girl's life? You risked your life for some girl?"

"I don't expect you to understand this. Apparently, you've lost sight of what love is." Kenneth retorted.

Gareth screamed in rage. He slashed his wand upward, and a whip of fire blasted a hole in the ground, next to Kenneth.

"Oh, I know what love is!" he said. "I've experienced love and it destroyed me."

His face contorted in rage and, for the first time, Kenneth saw a hint of madness in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" asked Kenneth.

"The only one I ever loved!" spat Gareth. "And your bitch of a mother stole her from me!"

Kenneth's eyes widened in shock. His cousin wasn't making any sense!

"You're insane! What are you rambling about?" he said.

"Because of her, she met that jerk! And s-she married him!" said Gareth.

Kenneth finally understood what he was talking about.

"Sonia?!" said Kenneth, bewildered. "This is about Sonia? You… love her?"

"Yes, Sonia! I loved her! And because of your mother, she enlisted in the Order, and she met Troy Jenkins. And because of your bitch of a mother and Dumbledore, she's gone," he retorted, hatefully.

"Are you even listening to yourself?" said Kenneth. "How is Sonia gone? She has always been there for you!"

"She's as good as gone, married to that pathetic swine!" said Gareth, furious. "She's not my Sonia anymore. She's changed, and she's as good as dead."

"Don't tell me you betrayed something as important as our pledge to Merlin for a teenage crush?" said Kenneth. "This is crazy! Sonia always loved you as family, but I know she never saw you that way. But… why? So because you were denied her love in return, you feel justified to betray us?"

"Oh, this goes way beyond Sonia, Little Lion!" said Gareth. "This is just typical! All these codes and rules, and pledges…we're so caught in our honor that they stop us from getting what we want! What we deserve! I could have had Sonia! I could have been accepted! But, because of those accursed values, we waste away, fighting for lost causes in the name of justice and rubbish like that!"

"It's our destiny," said Kenneth.

"There is no destiny, Kenneth! You think this serves a higher purpose? You're just as brainwashed as your parents! It's all their fault! Merlin, Dumbledore, all these ridiculous advocates of 'Good over Evil'. They turned us into their soldiers! We bled and died for them and for what? Nothing! Glory and pride, ha! That's not enough! We deserve more that death and blood. Imagine, Kenneth, had your mother not have been dragged into our so called noble order, she wouldn't have died. Sarah died because Dumbledore used us!"

Kenneth slashed his wand through the air and a deep cut opened on Gareth's cheek.

"Don't you ever disrespect my mother by saying her name!" shouted Kenneth. "She died because of men like you, who believe they're entitled to something just because they want it! You don't get to judge the way my Mum died. Don't you dare try and blame Dumbledore for it! Mum made her own choices! She did what was right, because she wanted to! She died because some people like you prefer to choose the easy path."

"Shut up!" Gareth screamed.

"Why won't you face your responsibilities?" said Kenneth. "You pretend to embrace who you are, but that's a load of crap! You're there, spinning excuse after excuse, trying to justify your actions! If you really didn't care, you wouldn't be arguing with me! At least have the guts to admit to what you are! You know this is wrong, so don't you put the blame on us!"

"I'll shut you up!" Gareth yelled again and stared daggers into Kenneth.

"I'm right here, Gareth," shouted Kenneth, over the noise of the flames. "You stay on your side of the room, like the coward that you are. Why won't you come and get me, then?"

"GO TO HELL!" shouted Gareth, jumping over the chasm, his wand raised to attack.

Kenneth went ice cold again. His taunting had been enough to draw Gareth in.

"You first," he said softly.

The duel resumed again, furious this time. They were almost touching each other's wands with each attack. Kenneth dodged the furious spells that his cousin was dealing, and riposted by quick, strong attacks. Lightning shot out of Gareth's wand. Kenneth blocked it, and concentrated the energy on the tip of his wand. Then he blocked two new attacks, sending sparks in the whole room that would explode in white, with a scream of rage, he waved his wand at Gareth, who was hit by the spell, reinforced by the lightning. He was flung away from Kenneth, and crashed on the stone ground, letting go of his wand. The momentum of his fall carried him over the edge of the chasm. Kenneth saw his hand grip a rock. He summoned his opponent's wand, and put it in his robes. He then ran to the chasm and knelt in front of it, offering his hand to Gareth.

His cousin gave him a look that was like the ones he had when Kenneth was a kid.

"Seems like you're the best, after all little cousin," he said, smiling. "I must have misjudged the blood of Sarah. I'm far older and more experienced than you, and still you defeated me."

"Give me your hand!" Kenneth urged him.

"No, Little Lion," said Gareth, sadly. "Seems like I won't be the one to get out of this room alive after all."

"I'll get you out of here!" said Kenneth imploring his cousin to accept his hand. He then pulled out his own wand.

"You noble idiot! Don't you understand?" said Gareth. "I'm not worthy of your mercy!"

"You're my flesh and blood, Gareth," said Kenneth. "I won't let you die like this."

"You're as stubborn as Uncle Lance!" laughed Gareth, still gripping on the rock. "That must be in the blood. You know, for the first time, I understand what it means to admire someone. But I always knew it. There was something about you…"

"Gareth, stop fooling around and give me your hand!" shouted Kenneth.

"After all I did, you still want to save my life," said Gareth. "Your Mum must be awfully proud of you. But I don't deserve your mercy."

"You…" Kenneth started to say.

"This is on me, Kenneth!" was his last shout. "Not on you!"

Before Kenneth could say something, Gareth let go of the stone and plunged into the fire abyss.

"NOOOOO!" screamed Kenneth, seeing his cousin disappear in the flames.

He dropped to his knees and stayed silent and starred in the flames of the abyss where Gareth had disappeared. The pain of his loss was tinted with a sinister satisfaction of knowing the traitor had been punished. He shook away those thoughts. Gareth had been lost for so long in his life.

He had been used. He had been a puppet, used to distract him, and to prevent him from getting to the Staff. Used by the woman, who was at the origin of all the pain and suffering the school had known for these last two years.

"Lilia," said Kenneth gritting his teeth.

He stood up, his wand in hand, ready for another fight. He reached for Gareth's in his pocket, and looked at it for a long time. The wand was beautiful, and a powerful tool, in evil hands. Kenneth threw it in the chasm and he leapt over, getting to the other side of the room.

"You've been used, Gareth," he said, with a last look to the chasm. "And she'll pay for that."

With a furious wave of his wand, he made the rocks blocking the door explode, and he followed the trail of Lilia, trusting his wand to lead him to her. She had to be stopped!

Ian was still standing between the spy and Professor Weasley.

"You think you can counter my spells?" mocked the faceless man. "You're amusing, Malcolm," he added, chuckling. "I know you're powerful. But not that powerful."

"Don't do this," said Ian.

His tone was almost pleading. He knew what would happen if…

Orlando moved behind him.

"Ian?" he asked. "What the…"

"Don't move, Orlando," said Ian. "Trust me."

"Touching," said the spy. "You still believe you can't prevent me from killing them, and you right after that. Well, we'll see."

"Don't do this, Wagner!" shouted Ian. "I'm warning you!"

"Now I'm scared," said the Spy, laughing. "Let's start with your teacher."

He aimed at Professor Weasley and had a nasty smile. He waved his wand.

"Stop!" shouted Ian, almost desperate. "Don't…"

"Avada..." 'Wagner' began to rasp viciously.

Ian unleashed the bond on his power. A powerful shield exploded before him. In his desperation, he reached for his wand, which the assassin was wielding, with his mind. The wand snapped out of Wagner's hand, stopping the incantation. This, and the shock of Ian's shield hitting him straight in the face, slammed the man to the ground.

Ian secured his grip on his wand and resumed his guard, trying to remember what Kenneth had shown him about true duelling.

Wagner scrambled to his feet, searching his robe, and to Ian's horror, pulled another wand from his sleeve. Ian knew that wand. It was Kieran's.

"Think you can pull that off again?" sneered the faceless mask of the assassin.

But this time he didn't go for a killing curse. Instead, a silent blasting curse shot out of his wand, headed for Professor Weasley's head, like in slow motion. Ian raised both hand and wand toward it, and summoned a wave of power to oppose it.

The shield blocked the bright flash, and the whole clearing exploded!

'Wagner' let out a terrifying scream. Ian fell to his knees and raised another shield to protect Orlando and Professor Weasley.

The light faded and Ian could look up. What he saw made him drop his wand in horror.

"No," he gasped.

The shock has spared Professor Weasley, who was stirring already. Orlando was fine, looking on in shock.

The spy had been thrown back by the explosion of magic and he had hit a nearby tree. A huge branch had stopped his flight. The strong and solid wood had impaled the man in the back, right through the chest.

There was a trace of shock in the assassin's eyes, mixed with surprise, somehow.

"Impossible," the man gurgled, blood seeping through his mouth, as he gave out a last sigh.

His eyes went dim, and his body went limp, only held to the tree by the chunk of wood that had pierced his thorax.

Ian was panting heavily, looking in revulsion at the body. He fell back on his knees.

"No", he said. "No, please…"

Professor Weasley got back to her feet, and succeeded in walking toward him.

"Ian?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

"I… I killed him…" Ian stuttered. "He's… he's dead… I killed him."

He had gone very pale and inside, the horror he felt was beyond anything he had faced in his whole life. The Cruciatus Curse was nothing. The feeling of being a freak was nothing. Even seeing Kieran lying in her blood wasn't as devastating as what he was feeling now.

He had killed.

Ian suddenly felt nauseous. He collapsed on the floor, unable to stay up. He felt like he was going to faint, at any moment. Now the words of hate were gone. They had been replaced by other ones. Terrible ones, that were plunging Ian into a pit of Darkness.

I killed him.

Hermione hadn't seen what had just happened. But she knew Ian. She had seen his look when she had joined him. He had renounced killing and now that that 'Wagner' was dead, she was sure there was an explanation. After all Wagner had cursed both Orlando and herself. Ian had been alone to face him. And there must have been something to push him to such an extreme action.

Hermione had to find out what it was, because she refused to believe her student would kill out of wrath. He had overcome wrath. He had renounced to vengeance. So he had to have a reason.

"He must have left you no choice," said Hermione. "What happened?"

"He tried... he was aiming for your head... and... and now he's dead."

Orlando stepped in quickly. He was still shaking from the Curse he had taken full blast. But his eyes were fully alert.

"Ian disarmed him before he could send a killing curse," he said. "But then he pulled another wand out of his robes. He sent a reductor curse to blast your head off, but Ian countered it. The spells exploded and Wagner was thrown back. He hit the tree."

"You mean it's his own spell that killed him?" said Hermione.

Ian shook his head, just as Orlando nodded.

"No… I killed him… I."

He was losing control over himself. Hermione had to be sure what had happened.

"He blocked the spell," said Orlando. "It exploded."

Hermione could now guess what had happened. The reasonable part of her mind told her she needed to get Alexander here quickly to read what had happened, should anyone ask questions. But Ian had just saved her life.

"Ian, listen to me," she said decidedly. "You have done nothing wrong, you hear me? Nothing!"

"I cast that spell … and he died…" said Ian, shaking his head again.

"No, you defended us, Ian, you hear me? You only blocked it. He chose to use that spell. You had no choice at all. All you have done is to protect me."

"But he's …" stuttered Ian.

"Yes, he's dead, by his own spell. You didn't choose to kill him."

"I wanted to kill him," said Ian darkly. "I thought he had killed…"

He stopped suddenly. And something must have come back to his mind.

"But Kieran," said Ian. "She's alive?"

"She is, Ian," said Hermione. "She's alive. You found her in time to save her. She'll live."

Ian had to focus on this, for Hermione knew that he needed to find something to think instead of facing what he had done. Because no matter the circumstances, Ian would feel guilty over the spy's death.

It was a part of who he was and Hermione wouldn't want him to be otherwise. He would feel guilty over the death he had dealt, because he wasn't like Voldemort, like Morgenstein, like Tanith or Lilia. He was Ian, a good boy. But right now, his guilt was not justified.

"You listen to me, Ian," said Hermione. "I want you to only think of one thing, alright? Kieran is alive. That's the only thing important. You must come with me, now."

She stood up, stretching her limbs, still shocked by the Cruciatus Curse. She held out his hand for him to take it.

"Come on, Ian, we must go see Kieran, now," she said.

Orlando joined them. He picked up Kieran's wand from the moss bed it had fell on and put it inside his pocket. Then he put a hand on Ian's shoulder.

"Come on, Ian," he said. "We mustn't stay here."

They dragged a reluctant Ian, heading back for the school.

Hermione had now a clear vision about what had happened. He had the occasion to kill with cold blood, but didn't seize it. Now that he had caused the death of his enemy by defending her life, Ian didn't have to face such guilt. He had only reacted to Wagner's attempt to kill her. He had done nothing wrong. She needed to convince him of that. Because otherwise, the cost of saving her life, right now, would probably haunt Ian for the rest of his life.

She had to show him that Kieran would be alright, that his world wasn't destroyed. And she needed Harry and Alexander, now. They had more experience than her in this. They would talk to Ian, and explain him…

Where were they?

"Where are we?" asked Harry, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

"I'd say in trouble, but that would stating the obvious." said Alexander.

"Is it me or do you get even funnier with age?" said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"We're one level down from the Core," said Alexander more seriously. "So we have to find a way up."

Suddenly he stopped. He held his chest tightly. His breathing seemed to quicken. He was feeling that something terrible had happened.

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"Not now!" snapped Alexander, still searching for his breath. "Give me a moment, please."

Harry nodded and turned to look at some writings that adorned the walls. They were of old Atlantean, the code used by Merlin. But, thanks to Hermione, Harry had learned how to read it. Alexander suddenly felt better and let out a sigh of relief.

"Wait a second," said Harry. "Did old Merlin see all or what?"

"What do you mean?" asked Alexander, who joined him near the wall.

"It talks about the Staff and the way to keep it safe," said Harry.

"Great," said Alexander. "Glad to see he has thought of us, left behind. What is it?"

"Something about the Trust," said Harry. "But the text is partly gone."

"So much for this being a piece of cake," said Alexander.

"Did you honestly believe this would be easy?" asked Harry.

"I had hopes," said Alexander, shrugging.

Harry rolled his eyes, and headed to the left.

"According to this, we must find the Core, and we must use the Trust," he said, going on with the translation of the Atlantean language that Merlin used. "That would help us to keep the treasures inside safe."

"Cool," said Alexander. "I thought we already were in the Core."

"Apparently not," said Harry.

They emerged of the corridor, in yet another hall… that was packed with Warlocks!

"Oh, yeah, here we go again," said Harry, sending another phial in the middle of the hall. The light that flashed was red again and many of the Warlocks were stunned at once. Alexander finished the work with a large wave of his hands. The remaining fighters were knocked out against the walls of the Hall.

"Alright," said Harry. "We're getting pretty good at this."

"Don't get too overconfident," said Alexander.

"Do I look like the guy that gets overconfident? Now will you tell me what you felt?"

"Ian," said Alexander. "Something happened to him. Something terrible. I didn't see what happened. But I know he has felt a terrifying pain and now he's in despair!"

"Kieran…" said Harry.

"No," said Alexander harshly. "That can't be. It was linked to Magic. Something happened. Maybe he did…"

"Did what?" insisted Harry.

"I was terrified that someday, Ian may use his unique power to… kill someone," said Alexander. "I just hope that I'm wrong. The danger has passed, now. And Ian is alive. But the question is: is he still Ian?"

"Yes, just the kind of cheering up I needed right now," said Harry.

"Glad you like it," said Alexander darkly.

There was suddenly noise on the other side of the Room. And other Warlocks appeared. Harry dragged Alexander in cover. There were more than the group that Lilia brought with her. There was also a man leading the group of Warlocks. He had short white hair, and a short beard. He was dressed in dark blue, with a simple cape. But everything in the way he was holding himself told that this was a man of power.

The man stopped on the threshold.

"I'm guessing these are the reinforcements," said Harry under his breath.

"Cool, I was hoping we'd get to meet them all." sighed Alexander.

"Somebody find Dame Lilia," ordered the man with a deep accented voice. "The Staff mustn't escape us. The message talked about four intruders. Find them and kill them."

"Yes, Master Leno," said one of the Warlocks, and the group began to move.

"Glad to feel appreciated," said Harry.

The troop separated into the different corridors leaving the Hall. Harry and Alexander found themselves only facing ten Warlocks. Alexander raised a finger and the group was suddenly hauled up to the ceiling, which they hit brutally. They fell on the floor, knocked out.

Alexander and Harry got out of their hiding place.

"Okay," said Alexander. "You find the kids. I'll deal with these clowns. This Leno seems to be in charge of these bastards."

"Don't do anything stupid," said Harry.

"The last time I did something stupid, a dragon died, Harry," said Alexander.

"Oh, okay, go on and do something stupid," said Harry, smiling.

They parted ways and Harry hurried up the stairs on the right. He had to find the children as fast as he could, before this place would become a warlock fortress. Harry wondered what was happening back in Hogwarts.

What have you done, Ian? I hope you didn't cross a line.

He remembered that Hermione was with him. The only thing he could do was to hope that Hermione was okay. And he was relieved that Ginny was off for a few days, on a mission for her newspaper. At least he didn't need to be worried about her. That was something less to deal with.

Thierry jumped out of the way and waved his staff wildly.

"Protego!" he shouted.

The Cruciatus curse rebounded on the shield he created, even if Thierry was shaken by the shock. The curse shattered a pillar next to him. Arthan screamed in rage.

"Will you stop moving, you insolent child? You don't stand any chance against me! Give up!"

"You keep dreaming!" spat Thierry.

He was trying to sound confident. The truth was that he had never been so terrified in his whole life. Even Anselme didn't scare him as much as this man. But Thierry just couldn't give in. No way. not after Master Walter's death. He couldn't leave his mission unfinished. He had to carry the responsibility Walter had entrusted him with. The sake of the Staff of Merlin. The very staff in his hand was reminding him of this mission. If he failed, then Anselme would have been correct and he was a disgrace to the Order. Because failure would be a disgrace… to fail would mean betray Merlin's dream.

Thierry cast a stunning Spell toward Arthan, and the Warlock avoided it.

"You can still surrender," said Arthan. "Who would blame you?"

Thierry knew nobody would blame him. He was only sixteen. This was too big for him. No, nobody that mattered would dare blaming him. But he would. He wouldn't be able to face himself if he did that. No. he had to face his fear, and to prove them all that he was a Brother Of Merlin.

This thought set his mind on fire and he waved his staff again, shattering the pillar above Arthan. The Warlock had to jump out of the way to avoid being crushed. Thierry took refuge behind another stone column, to collect himself and regulate his breathing.

"Come out, little one," said Arthan. "I won't hurt you. Well, not that much, anyway."

Thierry didn't move.

"You brothers are so pathetic," said Arthan. "You all think you have to die for your cause, don't you? That guy in the Sanctuary did. A short man with dark hair. He died on his knees, but with a smile on his face."

Thierry's blood began to boil. Kenton. He had killed Kenton. Orlando's tutor.

"And that Master of yours, Amanio," said Arthan. "I'm sure he was glad when I plunged my knife into his heart. What do you think?"

Thierry exploded out of his hiding place with a scream of fury. He waved his staff, shooting a shocker curse against the murderer of his Master. Except Arthan wasn't there! The spell hit a wall, without hitting the bastard.

"Anger is so easy to manipulate," said Arthan, on Thierry's right.

Thierry slowly shifted his eyes toward the Warlock who had him at the tip of his wand. Arthan had a sadistic smile. Thierry held his gaze with hate in his eyes.

"Don't give me that look, kid," said Arthan.

"Psst, Arthan!" said a voice, on their left.

Arthan jumped and turned wildly to the voice's source. Thierry didn't think twice about it. With a large circling move, he hit Arthan square in the jaw, with his own staff, just like he had caught Anselme, only stronger. Arthan went to the ground, letting go of his wand. Thierry kicked it on the other side of the room.

"Stupefy!" he shouted.

Arthan's expression was a hateful mask. He was stunned. Thierry turned to the owner of the voice and was startled to discover who it was.

Ariel Entwistle.

The wizard nodded to him. Thierry shot him an incredulous look.

"I've always despised this man," said Ariel, with a twisted smile.

"So you're here to help?" asked Thierry.

"Sort of," said Ariel. "But most important, the Staff ending in the clutches of the Warlocks isn't one of my goals. Quite the contrary, in fact."

"I just can't understand how your mind works," said Thierry. "and I won't even try. Where is the Staff?"

Ariel pointed to the door on the other side of the room

"Follow me," he said.

They walked across the mass of bodies of Warlocks, killed by Arthan. Thierry was suddenly feeling a little confused. Everything was happening too fast. This was too difficult to handle. He let out a deep sigh. Ariel turned to him and gave him a sympathetic smile, as they entered a new chamber. It was smaller, and engraved with golden letters. Thierry knew that was the centre of the entire structure. This really was the Core.

"I know you had a hard day," he said. "But you're at the end of this journey. Hold on just a little more."

"I won't succumb just yet." said Thierry.

"Good," said Ariel, nodding. "You're about to see something no Initiate has ever seen in centuries."

He pointed to the centre of the Room, and Thierry then saw the Staff.

It floated there, coated in soft light, over a round platform that looked like an altar, held up by some invisible force. Thierry felt suddenly moved to tears. This was the accomplishment of a lifetime, the goal every Brother was dreaming of: to bear witness to the power of Merlin, his true power. This was no mere tool of power. Thierry could feel it. He could sense the benevolent force that stood there, glowing. This was an artefact of healing, of knowledge, a tool to guide others, and not rule them. It carried the care and the kindness of its Master. This was the echo Merlin had left behind in this world.

All around the Altar, there were writings engraved in the stone. Thierry quickly deciphered the language and saw that it was a ritual, called the Ritual of Trust. But it was supposed to be pure myth! A Ritual to summon the very presence of Merlin himself! That didn't seem possible. Merlin was dead!

Thierry walked to the Staff. On second look, it looked quite simple in appearance. No golden motives. It was a just a strong stick of wood, just as if Merlin had made it out of a simple branch. Thierry looked at it with devotion, and carefully, took it in his hand. The spell keeping it up disappeared and Thierry could suddenly feel the true weight of the Artefact. It was lighter than he had expected. To be honest, he didn't know what he had been expecting.

"You have to get the Staff away from this place and hide it." said Ariel.

Thierry nodded.

"You won't do anything," said a voice from behind them. "Crucio!"

Thierry didn't have the time to turn. He was struck in the back by the curse. A searing, awful pain suddenly shot through his entire body. He fell on his knees with a scream. He let go of his staff, but didn't lose his grip on Merlin's. Another curse hit. Pain shot again in his veins, and this time, as he fell down the short steps to the Altar, the Staff escaped him, and rolled to the ground, out of his reach. Thierry then saw who had struck him.

Lilia. The High Priestess. Her eyes gleamed in triumph as she slowly stepped into the room, her wand aimed straight at him. She was alone, but Thierry knew she was far more dangerous than Arthan. There was no way he could defend the Staff against her. And Lilia had to know it, because, she slowed her pace.

"So, the Novice got to it before me?" she mocked. "Impressive, if only a little pointless. You saved me a step."

"Be gone, Lilia," said Ariel, stepping between Thierry and the Priestess. "This has never been meant for you. Should you try and reach the Staff, this will only lead you to suffer the price of your crimes. It is still time to renounce this madness."

Lilia had a vicious smile, and bent, visibly ignoring the tall man facing her, to address Thierry, who was still writhing in lingering pain on the floor.

"Did you hear something?" she asked, on a very sarcastic tone. "It sounded like the wind, or like the sound of a powerless fool, who thinks he can change the course of things."

"I will stop you," said Ariel, on a decided tone.

He raised his wand, and seemed about to cast a spell, when suddenly, he appeared to be seized by something and he faltered. Lilia burst into a maniac laugh.

"Too bad, Ariel," she said. "You still can't interfere, can you? Your stupid rules prevent you to harm me! So what will you do? Try to summon another pawn?"

Ariel's look became distant. Then he had a sad smile.

"I won't need to," said Ariel, recovering from his falter. "Your reckoning is coming," he said. "Today you shall begin to see the price of your actions, Lilia."

He started to fade away. Lilia turned again to Thierry with a vicious smile.

"Such an elegant way to abandon you, don't you think?" she asked. "He's pretty good at that, or so I heard. So back to business. You tried to ruin my plans. I cannot allow that."

She waved her wand. Thierry was defenceless. All he heard around was the sudden sound of steps running closer.

"Elastare!" shouted Lilia.

Kenneth leapt in between, waving his wand wildly and creating a sphere that blocked the shocking spell. He rolled on the ground, slashing his wand and sending the sphere right at Lilia. The witch was so surprised that she couldn't dodge it and it sent her on the floor, with a scream of rage. Kenneth got back to his feet, and with a quick wave of his wand, he summoned the Staff to his left hand.

He didn't know how he had found the way to the Staff room. Pure luck. Or maybe his wand had led him straight to Lilia. He didn't know. He didn't care. The only thing he cared about was that he had been just in time to save Thierry, and that now, he had the Staff in his hand. The game wasn't over yet and the stakes had never been any clearer. He stood between Lilia and the Staff. No more lies, spying, detours. No, this was it.

He heard Thierry slowly getting back on his feet behind him.

Lilia did the same, and with a wave of her wand, she destroyed the Sphere that exploded violently. She then turned her wand, slowly, to Kenneth.

"You're too late, Wandmaster," she said. "No, in fact, you're right on time to die beside your friend."

Kenneth only raised his wand and clenched his hand on the Staff of Merlin in his left hand. He held her gaze, silently. This was his fight. He was born for this. The Knight of Merlin stood against the High Priestess of the Warlocks of Atlantis, without a word.

Outside, the storm was still raging.