“I understand,” nodded the Head Guard. “We will double our presence immediately.”
“That is not good enough,” Karaza shook his head. “She is to have no visitors until I approve them. I have put her to bed so that she may rest and heal from the effects of the magical attack. I will be by periodically to check on her. Let no one else enter.”
“The palace will be sealed,” promised the Head Guard. “What will happen to the foreigners? I had them taken back to the prison.”
“What should happen to assassins?” retorted Karaza. “I will arrange for their executions immediately. I suppose that there will need to be some hearing among the elders before they are executed, but I think speed is essential here, especially where magic is concerned. I suspect that you and your men may be called to testify before the Council. That may prove to be embarrassing for you. Perhaps it would wiser for you to prepare a statement declaring that the foreigners tried to assassinate the queen. That would alleviate any need for your men to be questioned. I doubt you would want anyone else to know how lax your security was.”
Karaza did not wait for a response from the Head Guard. He swept out of the room and headed for the platform for the trip to ground level.
* * *
Mistake and MistyTrail were shoved brutally into the their small cell. They fell to the floor, scattering their small piles of weapons. The door slammed shut.
“That didn’t turn out well at all,” frowned MistyTrail as she sat up and dusted off her clothes.
“I can’t believe you attacked our mother,” scowled Mistake. “You could have killed her.”
“She was hurting you,” retorted MistyTrail. “No one hurts my sister and expects me to stand by and watch. I would do it again.”
“She hardly hurt me,” sighed Mistake. “My human mother did much worse to me, and I survived. Besides, this is our real mother. I am sure that she would love us if she got to know us. I don’t want to see her hurt.”
“She was about to kick you out of the tree,” countered MistyTrail. “You would have died from the fall.”
“I do not want to see her hurt,” Mistake repeated adamantly.
“I am sorry,” sniffed MistyTrail as she rose and wrapped her arms around Mistake. “I don’t want to see either of you hurt. What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” frowned Mistake as she hugged her sister back. “I think we just destroyed whatever chance we had at winning the queen’s favor. I doubt that she will release us from prison now.”
“Probably not,” agreed MistyTrail as she broke the embrace and gathered her weapons. “I wonder if we will be charged for attacking the queen?”
“If we are,” replied Mistake as she slid her weapons into their proper places, “I will stand with you. What one of us does, we both do.”
“But I am the only one who actually attacked her,” argued MistyTrail. “You should go free.”
“I am not going anywhere without my sister,” Mistake smiled weakly. “We will figure something out.”
A key was inserted into the door and both girls turned and stared as it opened. Karaza walked in, a smile on his face.
“I understand that you saw the queen this morning,” stated the elven mage.
“I did not mean to hurt her,” MistyTrail said quickly. “Please tell her that I am sorry.”
“I am sure she understands,” smiled Karaza. “In fact, she has asked me to make sure that your accommodations in the prison are befitting your station. You both deserve a much larger room with beds to sleep on. Please follow me.”
Mistake and MistyTrail gazed at each other questioningly. They shrugged and followed the mage out of the cell. There were no soldiers in sight in the corridor beyond the cell. Karaza led the way along the corridor and turned into another corridor. Halfway along the new corridor, Karaza stopped and unlocked a large metal door. He opened the door and waved his hand for the girls to walk through. Mistake hesitated at the doorway and peered into the room. Her eyes opened wide in wonderment as she viewed the furnishings.
The room was nicely furnished with a large bed, sitting chairs, standing closet, and a dresser. She walked into the room. Karaza started to close the door behind her, but MistyTrail swiftly slid through the door.
“You each have your own room,” frowned Karaza.
“There is no need for that,” smiled MistyTrail. “We sleep together.”
Karaza shrugged and closed the door and locked it. The girls did not speak for a while to make sure that Karaza was long gone.
“What do you make of this?” asked Mistake as she bounced down on the bed. “Maybe the queen does understand after all.”
“Then why are we still in prison?” frowned MistyTrail. “Did you notice that there were no guards in the corridors? Isn’t that strange?”
“That only shows that they think we are harmless,” shrugged Mistake as she stretched out on the bed.
MistyTrail sat in one of the plush chairs and looked at the scrape on her leg that had occurred when they were thrown into the other cell. She examined the scrape and prepared to cast a healing spell on it. Pain shot through her head and she fell forward to the floor. Mistake bolted from the bed and was at her sister’s side in seconds.
“What happened?” asked Mistake.
“Pain,” panted MistyTrail. “I think I know why we were moved.”
“Why?” asked Mistake.
“This is a mage cell,” answered MistyTrail. “Any use of magic will cause extreme pain. All I tried to do was cast a small healing spell for the scrape on my leg. It hurt real bad, Mistake.”
“So that is why the corridors were empty,” scowled Mistake. “They are treating us like dangerous rogue mages. Only the mage interrogator was allowed to be near us. I bet he had powerful shields surrounding him at all times.”
“They don’t plan on letting us go,” declared MistyTrail. “I have really messed up this time. They think we tried to kill the queen. We are being treated like dangerous magical prisoners. I am so sorry, Mistake.”
Mistake walked back to the bed and sat down. She gazed around the pleasantly appointed room and shook her head.
“You are right, MistyTrail,” she finally nodded. “We are never getting let out of here, but we are leaving anyway.”
“What do you mean?” asked MistyTrail.
“I mean that we have to start thinking about how to escape,” answered Mistake. “If they truly believe that we tried to kill the queen, they will execute us.”
“There will be more to escaping than just unlocking the door,” frowned MistyTrail. “We are deep inside this prison, and the prison is deep inside the city. How will we get out? Where will we go when we get out?”
“We will do whatever is required to escape,” declared Mistake. “I would rather die fighting for freedom than allow them to execute us.”
“Do you mean you would kill the guards?” asked MistyTrail.
“Only if we have no choice,” nodded Mistake, “but yes, that is exactly what I mean. We have to get out of here, and we have to do it quickly.”
“And then what?” MistyTrail frowned and sighed. “There is no place in Elvangar that we can hide that they will not find us. It is hopeless.”
“We will not stay in Elvangar,” declared Mistake. “We will use the ship that Eltor and Caldal hid. We will leave this place and never come back.”
“Leave Elvangar?” brightened MistyTrail. “You mean we can return to the Sakova or Angragar?”
“Not exactly,” replied Mistake. “We have another future ahead of us.”
“What are you talking about?” questioned MistyTrail.
“Do you remember when we dropped the carozit in front of the queen?” asked Mistake.
“Of course,” nodded MistyTrail. “It was not that long ago.”
“Why did you let go of the carozit?” asked Mistake.
“I don’t know,” puzzled MistyTrail. “I guess it was a reaction to the balls flying upward.
Why do you ask?”
“That is exactly why I let go as well,” smiled Mistake. “At the moment the queen’s hand joined ours on the carozit, the balls flew apart from each other. We have another relative, MistyTrail. And that relative is far away from here. That is where we are going.”
“Another relative?” pondered MistyTrail. “I wonder where we will be going. Which direction do we go? We don’t really know where to go.”
“We will figure it out,” promised Mistake. “I found you, didn’t I?”
“That you did,” smiled MistyTrail. “Let’s figure a way out of this place. I counted the paces from our old cell. Shall I draw a map?”
* * *
Tamar checked for any followers before he moved to the base of his father’s tree. He hurriedly climbed the tree, ignoring the rope for the platform. He didn’t bother to knock, but rather opened the door and slid in. The others looked up questioningly as he entered.
“Mistake and MistyTrail have been moved to mage cells,” reported Tamar. “Evidently they are the ones that the rumors talk about.”
“They would never try to assassinate the queen,” objected Volox. “Especially with magic. I can’t believe they know that much magic.”
“Do not discount their magical abilities,” disagreed Garl. “Both girls have very strong capabilities. While I do not think they would have tried to kill the queen, I can envision a scenario where it looked like they did.”
“How?” asked Tamar. “What is this scenario that you talk about?”
“The girls know a compulsion spell that can only be used by Kierans,” explained Garl. “The problem with the spell is it cannot be used against another Kieran. It causes great pain when it is used that way. The queen is obviously from the Kieran line. If the girls tried to use the compulsion spell, it could have been disastrous.”
“Why would they use a compulsion spell on the queen?” asked Volox.
“That I cannot answer,” shrugged Garl, “but I can take a guess. As a mage tutor, I drive my students hard. I believe that it makes them excel, and history has proven me right. When a student is so driven, they tend to narrow the selection of spells that immediately come to mind in times of stress. The selection that is in the forefront of their minds are the last spells hammered into them because they have been practicing them so often. Sometimes the results can be humorous, such as casting a healing spell to ward off a robber. I fear that this time the results were not found to be humorous at all.”
“So there might be some truth to the accusations being lodged against Mistake and MistyTrail, even though they never intended to kill the queen?” summarized Volox.
“Yes,” nodded Garl. “The situation might be rectifiable, but I do not hold out much hope. There are evil forces at play in Elvangar. It is best if we can get the girls out of prison in any way that is possible.”
“I could bring the matter up before the Council of Elders,” offered Volox. “I doubt that anything bad would happen to the girls once their claim as the lost princesses is known to the people.”
“You do not understand,” sighed Garl. “The lives of Alahara and Alastasia are endangered. We must get them out of the prison, and we must do it now.”
Everyone stopped and stared at the old man from Etta. While the others had accepted his claim about the girls being the lost princesses, actually referring to them by name had a chilling effect. No longer was it Mistake and MistyTrail in trouble; now they were the princesses of Elvangar.
“What can we do?” asked Volox, his tone showing that he was committed to helping.
“We need to get Anija out of the city,” stated Tamar. “She must be taken someplace safe.”
“Why me?” asked Anija.
“Because you will be used against Tamar and me,” answered Volox. “Our son is correct. We will both be enemies of the state soon. You must be hidden. I think Eltor and Caldal should find a safe place for my wife. Tamar and I should not even know the location that she is taken to.”
“You speak wisely,” nodded Garl. “The lives of everyone in this room are about to change drastically. The boys and your wife should be spared from that anguish.”
“But we want to help Mistake and MistyTrail,” objected Caldal. “That is the reason that we have come to Morada.”
“Are you ready to forfeit your lives?” scowled Tamar. “That is what we are talking about here.”
The boys’ eyes grew large at Tamar’s mention of death.
“Tamar is correct,” Volox said softly. “I am not sure how much the three of us can do to save the princesses, but we are determined to try. That does not mean that you boys must die as well.”
“I will admit,” Eltor said nervously, “that I did not realize that you were talking about dying, but now that you have put it on the table, I still plan to help. I will not run away.”
“I agree,” Caldal said emphatically. “Our lives were already forfeit when Mistake and MistyTrail rescued us. I cannot walk away while their lives are endangered, even if it means my own death.”
“You tell them, boys,” smiled Anija. “We may not be warriors, magicians, or elders, but every elf has the right to be involved in this. I will not hide myself in some remote village while my government murders my son and my husband. I am not leaving.”
Volox and Tamar both opened their mouths to object, but Garl pushed his chair back and rose. Everyone looked at him expectantly.
“Anija is correct,” declared Garl. “Every elf is entitled to work for the well being of the royal family. Let us not waste time arguing over this. We need to determine what each of us has to offer and how best to utilize those skills. There is more at stake here than any of you realize.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Volox. “Is there something that you are keeping from us?”
The old man looked around the room and made eye contact with each person in it. He nodded to himself as if he had answered some unasked question. He reached into his cloak and extracted the scroll he had copied from memory in the library. He placed it on the table and everyone leaned to read it while Volox unrolled it.
“Merciful Kaltara!” gasped Anija. “That is not possible. Not after all these years. It just can’t be.”
“Yet the part about the princesses obviously is true,” frowned Volox. “Do you believe this to be true, Garl?”
“I do,” Garl nodded. “I would not be here if I did not believe in the Prophecies of Kieran. My ancestor was much favored by Kaltara. Kieran’s visions were the truth of what is to come.”
“And just where will this king be found?” asked Tamar. “I notice that the scroll does not address this matter.”
“No, it doesn’t,” conceded Garl, “the scroll is clear enough for me. It states that the lost princesses will find this king. They cannot do that if they are dead or imprisoned.”
“Can you boys write?” asked Anija.
Eltor and Caldal both nodded. Garl looked skeptically at Anija and waited for her to explain her thoughts.
“Good,” Anija said decisively. “Eltor, Caldal, and I are going to make copies of this scroll. I plan to make sure that dozens of copies appear around this city in appropriate places. I know that you said public opinion will not help much, but we are only six. We will need more help.”
“Make the copies,” Garl nodded, “but do not distribute any of them until I say it is alright to do so. I do not want to tip our hand just yet.”
“Or the guards at the prison will be increased,” agreed Tamar. “There are a few soldiers that I would trust my life to. I plan to talk to them. I am sure they will help us free the princesses.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Volox.
Before anyone could answer, there was a knock at the door. Everyone froze except the elder who rose quietly and approached the closed door.
“Who is it?” he shouted through the door.
“A call to Council,” shouted the voice on the other side of the door.
Volox cracked the door slightly and stared at the soldier.
“What is the urgency?” he asked. “No meeting is scheduled today.”
“I was not told,” answered the soldier, “but rumor is that it is for a vote regarding the execution of the assassins. The meeting starts within the hour.”
“Thank you,” Volox said as he closed the door.
Volox walked back to the table and sat down. He exhaled deeply and shook his head.
“Now I know what I will be doing,” he said softly. “I will stall that meeting as long as I can. Still, there is not much time to accomplish what we must.”
“How long can you stall?” asked Garl.
“Several hours I think,” answered Volox, “but it depends on how testy things get. Malid may try to force the vote over my objections. I would like a copy of that scroll to carry with me. It may buy us an extra hour or so.”
“What about members of the Society of Mages?” asked Tamar. “Do you still have friends there, Garl?”
“No,” Garl shook his head. “I have previous students, but even they will avoid me. I was fortunate to find one to help me access the royal vaults, but that will not happen again.”
“What happened there?” asked Volox. “When I was new in this city, your name was among those listed as the shining stars of Elvangar. A year or two later you were dismissed from the Society and disappeared. No real explanation was ever given.”
“It is not something I like to talk about,” frowned Garl, “but it is pertinent to this matter. I was a rising star in the Society of Mages, as was Karaza. We often tried to outdo each other in what I thought was a friendly competition, but I was sadly mistaken.”
“Karaza is now the Head of the Society of Mages,” interjected Volox for those who did not know.
“Things between us really turned foul when I was chosen to be the Head of the Society of Mages,” continued Garl. “Karaza was furious. He told everyone who would listen that I was selected only because I was the king’s uncle, but that is not how our king carried out his duties. He was nothing if not honest, fair, and objective.”
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