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Alanna fought fervently. Gary wasn't going to win this time!
"C'mon Alanna!" he yelped. "Lighten up!"
"Give me a reason to!" she shot back.
Gary sighed as she hooked his sword out of his hands. "You win," he muttered.
Alanna grinned, then yelped. She put a hand to her neck, feeling the warm trickle of blood through her fingers. "Odd," she muttered. She quickly Healed the skin, but never thought to see if the thing that had nicked her skin was poison….
"Well," Alanna said, leaning against the wall. "It wasn't all due to the Copper Isles. Princess Josiane played the part of a pawn. A pawn who was a madwoman!"
Neal grinned, "Why do you consider her a 'madwoman'?"
"Mostly because every generation the Copper Islanders breed a mad one. Josiane's uncle is locked up in a tower somewhere, claiming that he can fly and that demons have over run the surface of the world," Raoul said without humor. "The craziness comes from being an island kingdom. Too much inbreeding."
"Then who's fault was it for the coronation?" Joren asked. "The King's Champion's?"
Alanna bit her lip. "Not really. It was actually my brother's fault. And Lady Delia of Eldorne's fault. I wasn't here, so I wouldn't know how Delia got my brother to raise Duke Roger, except for playing off his pride. There's a saying that's in my family. 'The Trebond pride is the Trebond curse.' Sometimes the pride is replaced with temper. Both which Delia played off of."
Alanna, Gary, Raoul, Thayet, and Buri were in Myles' classroom, explaining to the pages the causes and effects of the Coronation Battle. They were only in the causes at the moment, and Alanna had to admit that the pages were good at thinking up questions. Keladry of Mindelan had the best questions. It was half a day later than when she and Gary had had their fencing bout.
"Everyone thought that Duke Roger had come back a magicless sorcerer, how did he get his magic?" Kel asked.
Alanna shrugged. "Who knows. He might not have had it to begin with, but only had it later on. Or in some possible way, kept it from those with the Sight or with aid in seeing magical auras. I'm not the one to ask on that. Talk to Numair!"
A chuckle swept through the room. Everyone knew that if you asked Master Numair a question that he wouldn't be satisfied until he had covered all corners of the subject. Alanna winced, and crossed her arms, tightly hugging herself. Why did she suddenly feel faint?
"Exactly how were the archers stopped?" Cleon asked.
"Thread magic, and by the ladies in the room," Thayet said simply. "Women can, when they want to, even the odds. There were many commoners in the Hall of Crowns who knew how to fight, and had weapons with them. The women with magic took thread off their clothes and concentrated on tying archers up with it. Not to mention swordsmen."
"Who were Duke Roger's allies?" Merric asked.
"Delia of Eldorne, Alex of Tirragen, Ralon of Malven, and Princess Josiane of the Copper Isles," Gary said. He looked at Alanna, who had her eyes closed, and frowned.
"Right," Alanna said, opening her eyes. "Ralon was calling himself 'Claw', because at the time he was fighting the King of the Rogue for the throne. Unfortunate for him, many had figured his game when he tried to assassinate King Jonathan."
Raoul nodded. "He escaped many times, and no one exactly caught him. In the end, the King of the Rogue killed him. No tears were spilled, believe me. No one missed him."
"Why did no one miss him?" Kel asked.
Raoul and Gary laughed as Alanna blushed. "No one missed him because," Alanna said, drawing a deep breath. Why did her chest feel so tight? "Because when he was training in the palace, he took the 'earning your way' custom a bit too far."
"A bit!" Raoul exclaimed. "Alanna, he practically killed you!"
"Point was taken," Alanna snapped. "In the end, it came to a fight, not a fair one, but a fight anyway. He left court in shame."
"Also," Myles put in. "He was disinherited after a few fiascoes in a village. That was how he lost an eyes and had the purple scars. Acid was thrown on his face."
Alanna put two fingers to her left temple and closed her eyes. She tried to swallow and found she couldn't. The last thing she remember before dark descending on her was her legs collapsing out from beneath her and someone shouting for a healer.
Alanna looked around the dark, empty room. It was so dark…. She drew a deep breath, even though her chest was so tight and her throat so dry. Suddenly she wasn't alone anymore. Alanna recognized her father and brother. The woman with them was totally alien.
"Thom?" she faltered. "Father?"
Thom's eyes narrowed. "You never avenged me. You never killed Roger."
"I killed him! If I hadn't, no one would be alive! The earth would have convulsed, killing us all!" Alanna protested. What was going on? Where was she?
"And I would never had brought a child into the world just so she could kill, kill, kill. It's not woman's work. You should be home, let your husband do this work! You're only upsetting the balance!" the woman snapped.
"Who are you?" Alanna snapped.
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, daughter! I'm your mother, and you will show the proper respect!" the woman, Marinie of Trebond and Tasride, snapped at her daughter.
Alanna gulped and took a step back. "Mother?" her voice faltered.
"You lied," Lord Alan snapped at Alanna. He was furious. "You were meant for the convents! Not for the work of a knight! Your magic! You should never have used it! You deliberately disobeyed me!"
Alanna bit her lip. "Take it out on Maude!" she cried. "She was the one who forced me in the beginning! I never wanted to learn! I still don't! But if I don't train it, it could be used against me and those I care about!"
"Those you care about?" Marinie asked harshly. "If you truly cared about them, then you wouldn't risk yourself needlessly daily! You mustn't fool yourself, Alanna. You don't care for this work. You're afraid. You hate this life!"
"Don't try and use reverse-psychology on me!" Alanna yelled. "It's never worked before, so why should it work now?"
Lord Alan smack her. Alanna stood her ground. Thom glared at her. Marinie was the one who spoke. "Do you know what your name means? Why I picked it above all others?"
"No," Alanna said. "And I don't care."
"I picked the name 'Alanna' because it means fair and beautiful. But your problem is that you don't care. You disgrace the name Trebond! You disgrace us!"
Alanna flinched, and turned away. Tears ran down her face, but she didn't dare let them see. They did, and they taunted her. Alanna crumpled and fell to her knees, crying. She hadn't cried that way since she was a little girl in Trebond.
"What's wrong with her?" King Jonathan snapped. "Why the hell is she crying? She's not even awake!"
Duke Baird shrugged. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I don't know. There's no hope. That poison is pure black magic. There's no way to counter it."
"Impossible!" Raoul growled. "There is always hope. We just haven't looked in the right places!"
"Try calling her. Memories, magic, anything you want. Maybe it'll work," Duke Baird said.
Neal watched the Lioness, sadly. No hope? That was bad for both Lady Alanna and Kel. Kel would never meet her hero if Lady Alanna died. Neal sighed, and went to go tell Kel the news.
"Well?" Kel asked. "What's wrong with her?"
"Poison. Father says there's no hope."
"What?" Roald yelped. "That can't be!"
"It can be," Neal said glumly. "Pure black magic."
"Black magic?" Roald whispered. Neal nodded. "There is no hope, then."
Alanna took deep breaths, her chest was so tight! Her family had stopped their yelling at her, their accusations, their torments, but they didn't stop shooting glares at her. Alanna had a feeling they weren't done. She was right.
"What about your family?" Marinie snapped.
"What about them?" Alanna asked, bristling at her mother's tone.
"Don't you think about them? What about your vow to your husband? To your family? You know every time you leave, there's a high chance you won't come back! How can you put that on them!"
"They understand!" Alanna wailed. "George doesn't force me to do anything! He understands! He knows that I can't stand the life of a stupid noble lady! What I do is useful!" To her shame, she started to weep again. "Thom and Alan and Alianne, they all understand. They understand, but they don't like it. If it was me who was home, and George who left, they wouldn't like it that way!"
"But you know how hard it is to grow up without a mother!" Lord Alan protested harshly.
"I also know how it is to grow up without a father," Alanna snapped. Alan glared at his daughter. "At least Myles is kind. He doesn't act like I don't exist! He helps me when I need to do something I think is impossible. He taught me that nothing I do is too small. He was the one who taught me that if you think something you've done is your best, then stick by it. At least he acts more like my father than you ever did!"
Suddenly, memories flashed in the room. Alanna recognized them all. Memories about her and Jon. She knew from her family's blank faces they were witnessing them as well.
Memories of the Tusaine War flooded the room. The battle that separated Jon's camp from the others. Jon coming for her when she was in the Healers, wearing herself thin. When she threw up after she had healed some many men. The first time she had worn a dress and he had seen. When they had first met. Her seventeenth birthday. Even their fight in the Bazhir tents.
Alanna gasped, tears working themselves onto her face. She put a hand to her mouth, hiding a smile. She laughed when the memories of the pranks they had done to each other.
Suddenly they switched. They were memories from Gary. His nasty jokes about the deportment teacher. His making fun of her during the winter seasons. His finding out who she was. The night of her Ordeal. The many times he had gotten them both in trouble with his pranks and eavesdropping.
They switched again: Raoul's this time. The time when she almost drowned when she was seventeen. When he had first seen Faithful. Times he had spent with her, Jon, Gary, and George. Memories of when she and Gary had pulled pranks on him and Jon. The memory of when she and Coram went riding off for the Great Southern desert. When he found her in Port Udayapur. During the coronation. When she whipped his ass in fencing.
Then the memories stopped.
"What were those?" Thom snapped the question out so fast Alanna winced.
"Memories. From Jon, Gary, and Raoul. Memories of when I was training as a page and squire. Times I didn't have to worry about anything but people finding out who I really was."
"And I was the one who reviled your identity, isn't that so?" Roger said. He and Alex had appeared. Alex, Ralon, Delia, and countless others from the Coronation Battle. Innocents she couldn't save, allies that had died, men from the Tusaine War, boys who had died from the Sweating Sickness: Francis of Nond.
"Alan?" he whispered.
Alanna gasped for breath. "This can't be happening," Alanna gasped. "This can't be real."
She saw memories of the suffering she'd seen. The people she'd seen die. People who had died at her hand. Wars on where she had killed countless men. The Immortals War when she had killed immortal after immortal. Faces, faces of her friends and of her enemies, accused her. Liam appeared.
"You never did have promise," he said. "You never did have much more sense than a kitten. Always getting into trouble when someone wasn't watching."
Alanna cried out, falling to the floor. She screamed in pain and anguish as voices accused her. As scenes played out before her eyes. As pale eyes, and hypnotic ones and violet and blue and green eyes accused her. Alanna screamed, crying, and continued to scream. Her scream went on forever….
Jon watched with horror as screams of pain and anguish ripped from Alanna's throat. Tears streamed down her face, which was contorted in pain and grief. Whatever came out of her mouth was incoherent. Jon was scared for her. Gary patted his shoulder, as Raoul looked on with pain.
"How do you use magic to help someone?" he asked Numair, who was also in the room.
Numair watched Alanna, pain on his face. He wanted to help her, but her didn't know how to. "To what? Put yourself in her mind?"
"Yes," Jon said calmly.
"Jon," Gary protested. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'm not going to just sit here while she looks like that! Whatever is going on in her mind has got to be bad, if it's making her scream and cry! Numair, how!" the king bellowed. He wasn't Jon anymore, he was King Jonathan of Contè, and he had issued a question that demanded to be answered.
"Just imagine yourself in her mind," Numair said softly.
Jon, no longer king, sat and took Alanna's hand, and did just that….
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
Jon looked around. This was Alanna's mind? This room? Suddenly people were there, along with Alanna. She was backed up against the wall, trembling, screaming, crying.
"Alanna!" he yelled. Then he heard a voice that was very familiar: Thom's. Her brother.
"You never should have made the switch, Alanna. Never come up with the idea. It was selfish. You got what you wanted, but did you ever think of Father? Or me? No. You always though of yourself! You always do!" Thom hissed.
Alanna shook her head, her face was tear stained. "No, Thom! It's not like that! Didn't you get what you wanted? Didn't you get to be that famous sorcerer that you wanted to be?"
"Yes, and who put that idea there? YOU!" Thom yelled in her face.
"You're doing men's work! Leave it for the men! You're place is at your home, with your children!" a woman hissed at her. The woman had the same build Alanna did, and her eyes were violet-gray. Jon guessed it was Alanna's mother. She was very beautiful, Alanna certainty took after her. "Let your husband fight, he's naturally built for it!" Alanna's mother grabbed Alanna's arm, pushing the sleeve up. "Look at these scars! Women should never have scars! But no! You refuse to be what the world and gods demand of you!"
"The Goddess herself approved!" Alanna yelled, crying.
"Did she? Or was it just Chaos tricking you? Was it so she could get enough power to kill the gods? Did you aid in the gods' near destruction during the Immortals War?" Marinie snapped.
Alanna pulled out of her mother's hold and slumped to the floor, shaking and crying.
"Alanna!" Jon cried. He ran through the crowd to her. She looked at him, and cried harder.
"Jon!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. She was shaking so bad. Voices rose, and hands started pulling them apart. People started yelling at Alanna, scorning her, slapping her, mocking her. She lay there, hair falling into her face, weak, pathetic, and beaten.
Jon pulled out of her mind at that moment, gasping.
Numair looked at him. "What's wrong with her?"
"That poison, do you know what it is?" Jon asked.
"It has some kind of illusion spell in it. Along with a truth spell. Or something along those lines."
"Is there a spell for waking the sleeping? A counterspell to the sleep spell?"
"I think so."
"Do it. Now."
Numair nodded, and put his hands on Alanna's temples. Suddenly, Alanna was awake. She was gasping, her eyes afraid. Her face looked as if many people had slapped her, and her eyes were wild. She was shaking badly, so badly. Numair was afraid to go near her, she looked like she was able to kill someone.
When she saw Jon, she yelped, and slid as far back into the bed as she could. "Get away from me!" she yelled. "Get away from me!"
Jon took a step back. "Alanna, it's me, Jon."
"A likely story Roger!" she scoffed. "You want to kill Jon, not be him! You want the throne, that's all you've ever cared about! And I swear that I'd die before letting you even get near the throne!"
"She thinks your Roger?" Gary breathed in shock.
"Thinks?" Alanna's voice cracked it was so high. "I know he is! It's an illusion! Anyone could see it!" Her eyes were wild, they could all tell that she had left sanity behind a long time ago. She spotted her dagger and sword. She got out of the bed and tried to get them.
"Grab her!" Raoul yelled. Gary did just that, and held onto her waist tightly.
"Alanna, stop it!" he yelled at her. "Calm down!"
"No!" She cried. "Let me go! I need to kill him! He'll kill Jon! He killed my brother!" She stopped fighting and slumped in Gary's arms, clinging to him and crying hard. Gary soothed her, holding her, and trying to understand what she was babbling.
"Numair?" Jon asked.
Numair nodded and quietly left.
"Neal," Numair hissed.
Neal, Kel, and Roald looked up. "What's up?" Neal asked.
"Have you ever heard of a spell mixed with illusion, truth, and fever?" Numair asked.
"Um," Neal said. "It might be a version of the Sweating Sickness. Why?"
"Well," Numair said, sighing. "We got Alanna back. Except, she thinks Jon is Duke Roger, and she left sanity behind a long time ago."
Neal stared; Roald gulped; Kel bit her lip. "So," Neal asked. "That means what?"
"It means that we need to find some way to get Alanna back to herself."
Yelling burst out from the room Alanna was in, Gary and Raoul telling Jon to get out before she killed him. The door quickly opened and Jon escaped.
"Any change?" Numair asked with hope.
Jon shook his head. "No. I'm very glad she was shaking too bad to have a descent throwing arm. If her hands were steady, she might have killed me. She got her hands on Gary's dagger."
"Gods, this isn't going to be easy."
Jon sighed, then noticed the three pages. "She'll be fine. Roald, don't talk to Thom about this. I don't want this getting out."
"All right Papa," Roald said, softly.
"Might it be a version of the Sweating Sickness?" Neal asked.
Jon shook his head. "No. When she was unconscious, I saw what was going on in her mind. Her mother, father, and brother accusing her for things she couldn't help, yelling at her for doing men's work, and the such. Her enemies there, people she killed, anyone she's every met that's dead, accusing her, mocking her. Basically, it's guilt. But I know Alanna's made her peace with what she's done, and she did that a long time ago. I'd give my right arm to know who sent this, my leg to know the counterspell, and my other arm to have the person who did this."
"Why?" Neal asked.
"I'd kill that person, three times over," Jon said, eyes hard. "No one does this to my friend and gets away with it."
Kel gulped at the hardness in the King's eyes. Lady Alanna meant a lot to him, she guessed.
"Numair, go see if you can get her back to sleep. I need to think on who her enemies are, those who are sorcerers at least."
"All right, Jon. I'll let you know if--"
Jon shook his head. "Don't. We're going to find a cure for this if I have to tear apart every library from here to the Roof of the World." With that, he left.
"I'm starting to feel sorry for the person who sent this," Numair said.
"Why?" Kel asked.
"Because if you've got King Jonathan as your enemy, you're as good as dead. And if you're his enemy and you do something to Alanna, you are more than dead. King Jonathan is formidable, but if you mess with any of his friends or family…. May the gods bless you, you won't survive more than two minutes once he's got his hands on you," Numair said. "Alanna and Jon are like siblings. They flirt with each other, but it's only fun. They can yell, argue, and beat each other sensless, but they always forgive each other. They're very close. And if you get between them, may the gods help you."
Crying and pleading came out from the room Alanna was in. The plea was very clear: Get out of my head.
"Maybe it's a nervous breakdown," Neal suggested quietly.
Numair shook his head. "No, Alanna's had those before. She's pulled out of them in three hours. This can't be a breakdown, not unless she's been under so much stress and been so depressed that she snapped so quickly."
"It was only a thought," Neal said.
"I know," Numair said. "And right now, I wish it was a nervous breakdown and that she was diagnosed as a manic-depressive. Then, at least, we would know what to do. Instead, it's black magic." Numair left after that, and entered Alanna's room.
Alanna suddenly wished she was awake again. She wasn't trapped there, not like she was here. Here, she was trapped. Suddenly, there was someone else in the room with her: Jon.
"J-Jon?" she stammered.
"I'm here. I'll help, don't worry. I won't let you take the guilt in your own mind. What is this stuff anyway?" he asked, pointing to the walls that had gray fog all over the place. It had the reek of death.
"I don't know," Alanna said. Suddenly, the room was furnished. Two chairs, a table with two steaming mugs of tea, and--Alanna blushed--a bed.
"I guess we're suppose to make ourselves at home, as the saying goes," Jon said dryly, seeing the bed.
"I'm too wound up to sleep," Alanna muttered. She picked up a mug, eyeing the contents. It was black tea, with a sent of rosehips in it. Alanna dipped her finger in quickly, it was very hot, and put her finger to her lips. Honey and a pinch of sugar had been added. "Strange," she muttered. She took a sip.
Then Thom appeared. "You know, I figured he would come here."
Alanna sighed. She was too tired for confrontation with a "demon of the mind", and she didn't want them. She just wanted to sit with Jon and find away to get rid of this poison. She took another sip of tea.
"What do you mean?" Jon snapped.
"You always did have a soft spot with Alanna. You still do," Thom taunted.
Alanna's eyes slitted. "What's going on? I thought your were my demon of the mind."
"I am. But I'm also his," Thom said, grinning the grin of the wicked. "As you are one of his."
"Hunh?" Jon said. "What are you talking about?"
"This," Thom said, putting a finger on Jon's temple. Suddenly, Jon was in his own mind, and no longer in Alanna's.
But he still saw Alanna. She was….different. Her hair was longer, waist length, and her eyes looked like purple embers, because they started to glow intently. She wore a dress, but the kind commoners did in the country. She actually looked her age, the lines that the battles had made her carry in her face were gone. Scars were gone. She looked….sweet and innocent and remarkably beautiful.
"Alanna?" he ventured.
She walked over to him, and he saw she was barefooted. He also saw a lone violet in her hair, and it was in full bloom. Two strand of hair by her temples had been pulled back and twisted together, where the strands met was the violet. "Hello, Jon," she said. Her voice was different. It was soft, musical, and not one tone was boyish.
He raised an eyebrow, shocked and not exactly liking this. He suddenly realized why she looked like this. This was how he wished she looked and acted. He had wished many times, as he knew George had, that she could stop going off to battle and just be herself.
"You're not real," he said. "This is all a figment of my mind. You're a figment of my mind, coming back to haunt me because I wish Alanna looked like you."
"I am Alanna," she said. "At least, Alanna of Trebond, the real one. How I used to act like before I came to the palace to train."
"Thom has some hand in this," Jon said. Alanna moved closer to him, and he froze, wary. She stopped when he put his hand on her shoulder to stop her from moving any closer. "What are you doing?"
"What you want me to," Alanna answered, putting her hand to cover his.
He quickly pulled away. "This isn't happening," he said, horrified.
"It isn't?" Alanna asked.
"Of course not!" Jon scoffed. "The poison in Alanna's mind must've gotten to mine, so now I'm facing the my own demons. Which you're one of them."
"Why am I a demon for you?" Alanna asked, sounding very hurt.
Jon shuddered. "No, I'm not saying anything."
Alanna moved closer to him. Unbelievingly--and almost against his will--Jon put his arms around her. She tilted her face up, and Jon kissed her. Suddenly memories flew into his mind:
The Tusaine War, when he had tried to get Alanna to stay out of it, the fear he felt for her; the night he had met George's mother, and seen Alanna in a dress for the first time; Alanna's seventeenth birthday, and the night they had spent together; when Alanna had almost drowned, and the feeling of fear that she would die.
Jon quickly pulled away from Alanna's hold and kiss. He back away in horror. What was he doing? He was married! Happily married, at that. He had five children, and loved them all. But at that moment, he couldn't remember what Thayet looked like or even her name.
"What's wrong?" Alanna asked. Her violet eyes glowed like a cat's in the dark. "You don't want me? Or do you want one of them instead?" Suddenly, Delia appeared. Then Josiane, then Thayet.
"You want me," Delia cooed. "I'll save you. Roger won't kill you if you stay with me. Why would you want that she-man? Or that crazy princess, who'd kill you the minute she had a chance? Or that two bit little princess who thinks her classic beauty will earn you heart?"
Jon backed away hastily. Alanna put a hand on his arm, and laid her head next her hand. "Don't listen to Delia. She's only using you to get points with Roger."
Jon pushed Alanna off. Thayet watched this, and a slow smile spread on her face. He felt his heart do a double take, then her features blurred, and her eyes became violet, and her long hair copper.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
"You're seeing your One True Love," Thom sneered. "Lovely, isn't she?" He looked at his twin with humor, then back at Jon. "She loves you. In her own mind, she'd admit it, but not to anyone else. She'd kill herself for you."
"Loyalty to a monarch, that's all," Jon croaked, having the sinking feeling Thom was right.
"Oh, sure it is," Thom said. He stood and suddenly, he was Roger. "She is quite pretty, isn't she?" Roger pulled Alanna into his arms and kissed her brutally.
"Get away from her!" Jon yelled at his cousin, who was suppose to be dead.
Roger grinned. "You betray your heart, cousin."
Suddenly, they all vanished, except for Alanna. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to go or not. Alanna moved up to him, and kissed him. Suddenly, he realized he'd been living a lie: he loved her. Then Alanna's clothes disappeared, as well as his.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
Alanna looked around, Jon had vanished. Where was he?
Suddenly, Roger appeared. "My cousin thinks highly of you, still."
"Why?" Alanna stammered.
"Because he loves you," Roger said. "In his mind he's being tormented by your very image."
"What?" Alanna gasped. Suddenly, Roger turned to Jon. Alanna yelped, and fell into one of the chairs. "Okay!" she screamed. "Let me out of my mind! Get out of my mind!" She sobbed, and unknowingly, fell into Jon's arms. Then she remembered this was her mind, that no one can make her do anything. Jon turned to George, then to Liam, and kept changing. Alanna saw faces of her friends, of her family, until it settled to one person:
Roger.
Numair watched Alanna, and when Jon slumped in his chair he knew something had gone wrong. The spell was only meant for Alanna's mind, not Jon's! It could destroy Jon's completely. Damn, this was a serious mess, Numair thought crossly.
He left the room, leaving Alanna and Jon up to Duke Baird and went into his room. Daine was there.
"Any change?" she asked. She loved Alanna, like a sister or a mother Numair didn't know, and this wasn't easy on her.
"Jon has the same now. Transmitted from the mind maybe," Numair said, going over to a bookcase. He searched the titles and pulled out a book. Then the ground shuddered.
"What was that?" Daine yelped.
"Not an earthquake," Numair said, grabbing a chair to keep from falling. "Not possibly an earthquake."
The earth shuddered again. Numair and Daine ran out into the hall, and saw Raoul. "What's going on?" they both demanded at once.
"Roger," Raoul gasped. "It has to be him. There's no one else with the amount of power it takes to do that. Unless you're doing this Numair."
"I wouldn't dare mess with the forces of Nature," Numair said.
"Roger of Contè or…. Thom?" Raoul said, as the ground heaved again.
"Not Alanna's son! He's barely trained!" Numair argued.
"He means Alanna's twin brother!" Buri snapped, running over to them. She had a sword in her hand. "Look familiar" she asked.
Raoul blanched, it was Lightning. "Wh-where'd you get that?"
"It was in Alanna's hand. No one knows how it got there, but I was just there. Not to mention there are thousands of spells protecting that gate. There is no way in the nine hells this sword could have come out, unless it came out with Roger."
"Who's Roger?" Numair interrupted.
"Jon's cousin. Wanted the throne. Alanna found him out when she was knighted, killed him in proper combat. Thom of Trebond, Alanna's twin brother, raised him from the dead. On Jon's coronation, chaos broke loose. Everything was destroyed. The palace had to be rebuilt," Raoul said. While they had talked, Raoul and Buri, Numair and Daine had gone down to the catacombs. Raoul saluted the men posted at the doors, and entered. Numair was amazed when he saw the blackened Gate of Idramm. On the spot, a man was standing.
"Roger," Raoul hissed, he drew his sword.
The man saw them, and grinned the grin of the wicked. "How lovely to see you again, Sir Raoul. How are you? How is your darling Lioness? Dead yet?"
Raoul growled, "No. And your spells will never kill her."
"Really?" Roger asked, cocking his head. "Then how come I have a tie to her inner self? And a tie to my kingly cousin? Even to Duke Baird, so he can cure neither."
Out came Buri's sword. "You are a dog, Roger. And you shall die like one," she snarled.
"Isn't that what dear Squire Alan said once? Ah, I believe I quote: 'You have brought an ugly death on Traitor's Hill, Roger. When this is over, I will personally scatter your ashes on the winds.' What a pity she killed me before I could destroy us all. But, no matter. I will take the Lioness and my cousin with me. Even their heirs."
"Let Neal and Thom and Roald go!" Raoul yelled, understanding what Roger's ties were.
"Very good, Sir Raoul. Very good," Roger said. Not three, but four forms were tied, gagged, and unconscious. "I suppose having the Mindelan girl will start a war. But, alas, it'll won't work if there is no one to make war with. My pressure spell will destroy us all, the world as well. Not even the gods can stop it."
Numair shuddered. "But pressure spells can be countered."
"Not if set directly at the core," Roger sneered.
"That's true," Numair grumbled.
"Now," Roger said, picking up a sword, a bloodstained sword. "I ask you, how long do you think Jonathan or Alanna can last, when their very life force is being drained from their bodies, along with that of all their children?"
"That's impossible, even with a tie," Numair said. "Your bluffing."
"Truly?" Roger asked. "Then let me demonstrate." He selected Alanna's son, Thom. He was slowly coming around, even though Roald, Kel, and Neal were already awake. Pulling Thom into the Gate, Roger grinned.
"Let me make an example of the Lioness. She'll not last long, for her life force was weak to begin with. Not enough food and sleep will do that, you know," Roger said, grinning. Thom was awake now, and squirming. His Gift flared up, matched with a silver film, then a gold and blue film. He squirmed violently, and the silver film grew.
Roger watched Thom, his brow creased. "The gods' protection? How…? Ah, Alanna."
Thom glared, enraged. He worked the gag out of his mouth. "Don't you dare touch my Ma!"
Roger showed amusement. "Just like your mother. A pity you won't live to be older than ten."
Roger reached with his Gift into Thom's mind. He pulled back suddenly, then tried again. This time, he saw a small violet thread, twined with the color of blood, in a small well inside Thom.
Probing this well, Roger felt Thom fall to his knees. Raoul watched in horror as Thom became paler and paler. His skin looked almost transparent at the moment. The gold and blue film grew, expanded, and contracted as the silver film grew to be a wall. Roger pulled out of Thom's mind as Thom fainted right off. Thom sank to the ground, his small body even smaller and thinner. Kel, Neal, and Roald stared in horror.
"At least she won't live an extra day," Roger said, laughing. "Mourn for your Lioness, you won't have the breath to do it later!"
Raoul glared. "Don't bet on it!" He walked forward, as Buri and Daine darted to the side to get the children untied and out of there.
"I will bet on it," Roger said. "You're not Alanna. You don't have her skill, and you have no reason to do anything to me."
Numair gathered his Gift in his hands. "Yeah, well neither do I, except you hurt Thom, Jonathan, and Alanna. No one hurts my friends and gets away with it!"
"I have many a quarrel with you Roger!" Raoul snapped. "You killed the queen with that doll of yours. You killed Alanna's brother, and the other people in the coronation. Thom was only twenty, and sure he was full of himself, but he deserved better!"
"And I have all the quarrel in the world with you Roger," said a voice from behind Raoul and Numair. Both turned to see Alanna, holding Lightning, and glowing silver.
"How could you resist the spell?" Roger inquired.
"The Goddess lifted it, for a time," Alanna said.
"Well," Roger said, with a gleam in his eye. "Looks like you took care for everything. Except for my tie to you!" He yanked Thom into a standing position, though his head lolled on his chest.
Alanna looked like she was capable of murder, which she was, actually. She stepped forward and threw her sword at Roger's feet.
"I yield. Let him go," she said.
"Why should I?" Roger asked. He once again grasped Thom's life force.
A shot of pain wormed its way through Alanna. She closed her eyes and did something she never thought she would. Part of her was very aware of Raoul, Buri, Numair, Daine, Neal, Roald, and Keladry watching her. Alanna drew a very deep breath and muttered a spell in the language of the Old Ones.
Yellow tendrils rose from the ground. They started to twine around each other, then headed strait from Roger. The yellow quickly turned violet, gold, blue, and silver. Alanna threw her Gift and some of her life force into it.
"No! You can't do this to me! I'm the Duke of Contè! The greatest sorcerer in the Eastern Lands!" Roger screamed as the tendrils circled him. Alanna's life force touched Thom, and only him. It separated from the magic, and protected him from the blast of Alanna's Gift. Roger screamed long and loudly, then he was gone.
As soon as Roger was gone, Alanna collapsed. She swayed slightly, then her legs folded. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she collapsed. Thom was already down, but he was blinking, sleepily.
"C'mon," Raoul said, picking Alanna up. "Let's get these two to the Healers."
Five weeks later, Jon was on his feet and getting better.
"Roger?" he asked, when Raoul told him.
"That's the truth, Jon," Raoul said.
Jon shook his head. "It wasn't Roger who poisoned Alanna, or me."
"Then who?" Numair asked.
"I suppose we'll never know," Alanna said. She walked into the room and sat down in a chair. Her face was still pale and shallow skinned, but she looked better. "But it wasn't Roger. He only took advantage of it."
"Then, your right. We'll never know who sent the spell," Jon said.
Little did they know that outside the window, a cloaked man growled. "The spell didn't work!" he hissed. "We'll, I must find another way to keep my precious Lioness mine! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
