Return to Caer Lon (9 page)

Unable to stay still, t
he young prince was
push
ing
on his feet to visit the other writing desks when
Sacha
’s clear voice cut through the silent room. Her voice was deadly calm this time.

“You want to pursue another direction. I understand. You are free to go as you please
of course
.”

Derek
fro
ze
, glancing
back
at her.
Sacha
was seated impeccably
at
her side of the table, her head straight and her hands quietly crossed on her lap. Her impassive mask was into
place
once more
. Her eyes were fixed on an icon on the opposite wall
away from him
. She dismissed him like a queen relieved a guard from her service.
Derek
s
cowled, shaking
his head.

“This is out of question. I gave my word I will come with you. I am not taking it back.”

If he had not known b
etter, he would have sworn the flash
in her eyes was
relief
when her
finally
gaze
fell on
him.
Her words were less amiable.

“You are
as
stubborn as a mule
,
”
Sacha grumbled.

So t
hey were back to their usual pestering. Why he was so satisfied about it
eluded him.
Derek
smirked.

“It takes one to know one,
doe
sn’t it?”

Friar Johan chose the moment her cheeks were coloring in anger again to finally show up, his arms full of old scrolls. He had a spider web hanging from one ear and perspiration moistened his forehead. His load hit the table with a loud
t
h
unk
when he let it down.

“Here. There are two more books
,
but you can start with that.”

Derek
mumbled under his breath
when
Sacha
chose the heavier volume and pushed it toward him with an angelic smile.

Chapter 9

Elwyn
blinked and groaned. The swell around his eye had deflated enough for him to see properly, but it was still painful. He guessed the contusions made him look like a raccoon. After being in and out all afternoon, waking up each time to feel his body hurt, he totally understood the animal
's
irascible mood.

He rubbed the last vestige of sleep from his face, hissing when the movement of his arms stretched the bandage around his chest.
Fillin
had his ribcage strapped so tightly he could barely breathe. He didn’t feel like complaining too much about it. The wrap held his broken bones into place so the pain was
almost
bearable when he moved.

Elwyn
straightened up stiffly, testing his strength, and sat. The canopy stayed over his head instead of reeling sideways, which was a good thing. Feeling no vertigo, he balanced his legs off the mattress precociously. So far, so good. The young man stood slowly
. H
is knees buckled dangerously under him. He clenched his jaw as cold sweat ran down his back, but remained on his feet. His body protested, forcing him to grab the bed pole before he fell forward.

After a long minute, his muscles stopped screaming and reluctantly accepted the torture of functioning again, so he let go of his support, savouring the little victory. Carefully stepping away from the bed, and ready to take hold on
the furniture
if needed be, he approached the window on wobbly legs and took in the lands surrounding the place.

A grey mist covered miles of dense, dark green forest. Daylight was dim, though he could not tell if it was due to the weather or upcoming dusk. Save for the endless carpet of trees, he saw absolutely nothing. No clearing, no villages, no road. He barely distinguished the sky from the foggy earth.

The young man pressed his face to the glass to look down. The drop was vertiginous. Unless he grew wings, he had little chances to escape this way. Vaguely depressed by the sight, he tumbled back to his bed and sat again with a relieved sigh.

Fillin
had left a pitcher of her strange beverage
on the nightstand
and he poured himself a cup. The bittersweet liquid calmed his thirst
. Elwyn
wondered once again why the taste was so familiar. It reminded him of lemonade, but it was not that, not exactly. The light acidity was something he was unable to place though he thought he should. The memory floated in the back of his mind, heavy, like a tight kno
t
refusing to untangle and threatening to turn into another headache. He drained the last of his cup and clicked his tongue. Whatever it was, the drink was refreshing.

The young man
lied back on the pillows, trying to figure out a course of action.
Fillin
was very sweet but he guessed her influence on his
gaoler
was limited. She had not been able to help
Sebastian
and he doubted she was more than a maid herself. Maybe she was a prisoner, just like him, and
the Enemy
granted her
a
little freedom so she could serve the household. He wished he could put a name on that faceless menace
, a shadow hidden behind in pain and screams
. At the same time, he was not in such a hurry to confront the foe. His arching body still held the marks from their previous encounter.

Elwyn
closed his eyes.
Sacha
would know what to do. She always did, or at least she knew how to dragoon him into finding a solution to his problems. He missed his sister, and his friends. He certainly did not want
Sacha
anywhere near him at the moment, but he missed her nonetheless. At least she was in
Haven
, protected by the fortress walls and his father
's
guards
;
a
nd
Derek
. He could count on
Derek
to keep her safe, even if he grou
ch
ed to no end
about
doing so.

But were they cautious enough? No one but
Sebastian
and
he
seemed to have survived the raid. If so, by the time the
d
uke got wind of the attack, the Enemy would be stronger and could benefit the surprise effect again…
Elwyn
straightened up looking toward the window again. He needed to find a way out of here, and some way to contact
Sacha
…

oOo

The liquid started to darken and solidify, until it reached the sombre grey color of tarnished tin. Satisfied,
Wolfryth
bent over the basin and murmured some words in a language
Fillin
didn’t understand. Suddenly, the now
-
hard surface began to glow, and the young woman felt heat rising from the metal-like matter.

Her father rarely allow her to assist him and she held her tongue instead of asking the multitude of questions she had, keeping her mouth firmly shut while she observed the powerful magic at
work
. He
had
yet to explain what that precise spell was for, though she suspected it had to do with his obsession with
Derek
Pendragon.

“Look carefully. Influencing dreams is one of the most advance
d
spells when one controls the Spirits.”

Fillin
knitted her brows in concentration. She
had
yet to control the
different
e
lements, Air least of all. She was a natural with Water, but of course her father refused to acknowledge that. She glimpsed at the basin, wondering if she was to finally discover what the infamous prince looked like. But the surface was just reflecting light from the spell at work, and nothing else.

“
Fillin
.”

The blonde stepped back quickly. The one condition for her to observe while her father worked was to avoid interfering. She was interested in Magic. The consequences were of little concern. Once she mastered the spells herself, she would have plenty of time to play with the results.

Wolfryth
touched the surface again, visibly displeased.
Fillin
tiptoed to watch at the tin-like material from afar. It had stopped glowing and the color was clearing again. Her father’s thumb pressed against the substance left a mark into it. She dared a question:

“It was solid gold, last time, wasn’t it?”

The frown on the large forehead deepened. The man grabbed the basin with both hands and
moved
his face to
ward
the mellowing surface. His hair slipped forward, nearly touching it, and he jerked backward.

“Father?”

She recognized the dangerous growl and was already retreating to the door when
Wolfryth
ordered “Leave me.”

The door closed behind her and he concentrated on the recipient again. The large bowl of stone was filled with some silvery liquid once more. He cleared his mind to reach the power within him and
bade
the sorceress to yield to him:
“
P
antswa nekem marzenia.
”

The liquid gurgled and greyed quickly, densifying.

“
P
antswa nekem marzenia.
”

The boils turned more violent as he focused on the spell.
Wolfryth
repeated his incantation a third time, forcefully:

“
pantswa plon nekem marzenia Dine to!
”

The effervescence ceased abruptly. The petrified matter began to glow again, the lead color giving way to copper and radiating.
Wolfryth
grinned, satisfaction twisting his scar into
a
horrible grin. Then the light vanished completely and he retained a cry of rage.

The sorcerer raised one hand over the basin and the liquid transformed into pure water. The image reflecting showed a young blond man, his elbow set on a table and his chin pressed on his wrist, reading. Pendragon. The shadow in front of him was blurred. With a new flip of his hand, the water turned back into silver goo.

His magic was not to blame. The controlling spell had rebounded
on the other side.
Somehow, the seer blocked his intrusion in
to
her
mind
.
Wolfryth
snorted. With or without his
help
, her visions would push her forward. He could not fail.

oOo

The mirror was not doing her justice.
Fillin
pouted. The old surface refused to reflect the shine of her blond hair, and the incredible blue of her eyes. Her skin looked wan, instead of young and attractive.

She took a handkerchief and tried for the hundredth time to wipe out the stain. The reflecting surface gleamed for a second, and darkened again. She scolded. This place was impossible. Mirrors withheld fair play, some doors remained stubbornly closed. If by some miracle she managed to convince (coerced) the staff into cleaning one room, it was dusty and grim again the next day.

She
sighed. Her father insisted they stayed here until he had found ‘the Source’, as he called it. And given only the blood of the dragon could open the way to that source, she had to wait for that stupid witch to bring
Derek
Pendragon to Caer Lon.

The blonde arranged her hair, smiling at her deformed image, unable to decide what smile suited her best. If only that stupid mirror could work properly…

How a girl with such powers could be that naïve? Her father manipulated her dreams for weeks now, and the seer had not doubted her visions once. She was too eager to prove her friends she
knew
. Predictable idiot.

The gold and blue dress fitted her perfectly,
Fillin
decided. It flattered her hourglass figure and enhanced the color of her eyes. It didn’t matter if the spell had not worked today; the seer was already doomed. It was probably that despicable place playing tricks on them again. She could not wait to be back
in
Camelot
’s Court, with a crowd of efficient servants instead of those frightful natives or those halfwits guards her father called Jutes. This place was horrible. Waiting for a
n
idle sorceress, barely able to control her powers, to bring her lover to them was excruciating. She stamped her foot. She hated
this!

Everything was that so-called
Sacha
’s fault. Her father had
finally
conceded
to teach her
,
and because of
Sacha
, she had been cast out of the room and she had no idea when he would grant her a new lesson.

A gush of air made her skirt swirled beautifully, and
Fillin
chuckled
as
if
the wheeze had
cleared her mind.
Even under the citraurantia’s effects,
Elwyn
could explain how to use spells. He had magic too. She pirouetted happily. Yes,
Elwyn
was going to help with her magical education. All she needed was her book of spells, and to accept a kiss or two.