by C. M. Gray
Nhasic hadn't returned, which was admittedly strange. The boy Magician was good, he knew that, but not that good and he had been broken, they had flown into his trap and their beast struck from the sky, shattering to pieces on the desert. Its two riders had fallen some considerable distance, and he had actually expected to find them both dead, yet somehow they had lived.
'Boy… I know you can hear me, boy.' Clicking his fingers, Matheus conjured a flame that floated in mid-air before drifting slowly towards the back of the cave. Flickering shadows danced, climbing the walls as it wafted past the hanging prisoners, lighting the darkest recesses of the cave as it passed - there was no sign of the young Magician.
'You can't hide, boy. You're weak, tired, your position is hopeless. Come out and I will allow you and your friends to leave.' Matheus smiled at his own joke, aware the boy wouldn't believe him. Something was now moving from the passage; however, it didn't look like the boy… maybe Nhasic was returning. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make out what it was… it looked like a ball or a bubble, there were several of them, what was the boy playing at? Even more of them now… first in tens and then hundreds, bubbles of various sizes floating and bobbing in the air, some tiny, drifting in swarms like bees while others were the size of melons, glowing and reflecting the flickering light of his own conjured flame.
'Free me Loras…' It was the boy priest, muttering softly.
'Silence.' Matheus glanced at him, flicked a hand and gagged him as he had with the girl, no need for distractions from them. The first bubble came close, and Matheus studied it with interest suspecting it may possibly contain something more than merely air and diversion. Pointing at it he released a weak jolt of energy, and it popped harmlessly, which merely annoyed him that the boy would play such games. Could he really be doing this in desperation to delay the inevitable? He brushed several others aside, and they drifted past, the largest reflecting his angry gaze as it came close to his face.
'Enough of this.' Screamed Matheus. 'Come out and face me if you think your magic is good enough. Stop these party tricks or I shall be forced to begin hurting your friends. Maybe their screams will encourage you to come out into the open!' As he turned and raised a hand in the direction of the Princess, the young Magician appeared in the mouth of the tunnel. He looked just as beaten and tired as before, he was swaying on his feet, his stupid eyeglasses once more set awkwardly upon his face making him look like a gawping, demented owl - but how had he got the glasses from Nhasic? A larger bubble floated into view, and his question was answered as the furious demon stared at him from within, beating its little fists manically against the side in a futile attempt to break out. He stared at it in amazement; a small smile creeping onto his face at the predicament the little demon had got itself into.
A chink sound coming from his left drew his attention, and he glanced up to see that the chain holding one of the boy priest's arms had broken. He was hanging oddly from just a single chain now, his face contorted in pain. Just as he was about to look back at the young Magician, he noticed a bubble touch one of the girl's chains, snapping it instantly with a chink, and she too now hung from just the one arm. Anger rose inside Matheus like a huge wave, and he turned back to lash out at the Magician with a spell of his own, only to be hit by a solid wall of air driving all in front of it as it came, bubbles, chairs, the table and a multitude of other objects that slammed into him, driving the breath from his lungs and inflicting a multitude of cuts and bruises to his body as he was knocked viciously back. He lay stunned for a few moments and then focusing his energy, he rose to standing in one swift, magical movement, anger coursing through his body. Crackling red Chaos energy leapt from his fingers then took hold of the boy Magician. Matheus gloated in satisfaction as he saw fear and agony contort the small boy's features. The child's back arched involuntarily as pain consumed him. Raising him from the ground, Matheus forced him higher, towards the roof of the cave where he could drive him against the jagged rocks that hung like sharp teeth. As if a stupid child could have ever bested him, well now he would die, and his threat would end here. The large bubble containing Nhasic floated past in front of him again, and Matheus was momentarily distracted by the little demon as it thrashed unhappily in its prison, and then another small chink sound came from the prisoners, and Matheus was aware of the boy priest falling, hitting the floor in an untidy tangle of damaged limbs, a moment later, another chink and the girl dropped as well. So, they had managed to get free; something to do with those stupid bubbles, but it would do them no good in the end.
Above him, blue energy suddenly enveloped the young Magician and he slumped inside his own glowing sphere, the crackling red energy now separated from contacting his body - even now the child fights back, how had he done that?
'That won't save you boy. You're no match for me.' Matheus sent a second stream of Chaos at the bubble from his other hand, and the orb visibly shrank back in size. He watched as the boy firstly increased his own flow of magic and then, quite suddenly, sent a fizzing ball of blue energy straight at him.
'Pathetic.' Matheus swatted it aside with contempt. 'Nothing you can do will gain you anything, child.' Matheus threw three balls of burning Chaos energy at the boy and grinned in satisfaction as the last one broke the sphere and the boy was claimed once more to be driven towards the ceiling by the fiery red Chaos energy, eliciting a satisfying scream as the boy's last defences crumbled.
'Aaaaaaghhhhh, now Tarent… now!'
Matheus spun around, fearing that the boy priest had somehow regained both his feet and his swords, but he was still slumped and groggy, the girl pulling on him, desperately trying to help him get up. Matheus laughed, 'Your friend isn't going to help you now boy, the only thing left for you to do is die!' Summoning the full force of his magic, Matheus closed his eyes and released… but, as he did so there came the sound of a soft handclap behind him and he felt his magic leave him while all about the cave the remaining bubbles drifted slowly to the floor. The Magician brat also dropped, hitting the floor with a thump.
'What is this?' Matheus stormed, waving his arms and clicking his fingers, confused and quickly becoming fearful as he realised that his magic seemed to have fled, leaving him with the feeling of a vacant hole where his magical energy had once been. 'This cannot be possible, what have you done?' He advanced upon the girl and boy priest, raising his hand ready to strike at them, but as he got closer the priest unsheathed two rather deadly looking blades and held one close to Matheus throat. Matheus quickly halted and stared at the two children in front of him. 'What did you do?'
'We stole your magic old man, and now you cannot harm us.' The girl bent down and picked up a plate, remarkably, still lying unbroken on the floor then hurled it at Matheus. It glanced painfully from his raised forearm, 'Oooww, you little…' A cup bounced off his head and smashed on the floor, and he swayed a little. She was hunting for more objects to throw, and the priest was getting unsteadily to his feet. With one last unsuccessful attempt to use his magic, Matheus Hawk turned and fled. He entered into dragon's room then leapt up into the saddle. The dragon clambered to its feet, much to Matheus's relief, and moved towards the cave's opening. He noticed the girl come running in as they passed the door and a book bounced from his back, it was quickly followed by a candleholder and finally, just as the dragon readied to spring from the cave's mouth a saucepan caught him on the side of the head almost unseating him.
'Fly away, old man. You were beaten by children, and when we find you again we will beat you and beat you and…' The dragon launched itself into the hot desert sky, and the girl's voice drifted away while Matheus held on, desperately trying to work out how things had gone so terribly wrong.
* * *
Chapter 24
Do Elephants Dream?
It was called an elephant, at least that's what he'd heard two people call it, it was a strange name. Pardigan glanced about to be sure he wasn't being overheard and mulled the word over, repeating it under his br
eath to get a better taste for it. 'Elephant… ele..phant…' Wonder how you tame one, he thought, wonder what they eat… wonder if they dream… he glanced from behind the pillar where he was currently skulking, listening to the gossip around the Emperor, Djinn Tsai's, palace, it really was an amazing place.
Instead of being in the small wooden building swaying on top of the huge beast… the elephant, that he had entered, he had found that as soon as he had moved through the door and quickly shut it behind him that he was, in fact, in a huge stone palace where it was cool and certainly not swaying. Once inside, he had spent some time listening and watching, getting a feel for the rhythm of the place as people came and went through the door and out into the hot desert air of the battle.
The palace, when he started to explore further, was beautiful. Courtyards, fountains and gardens that teemed with small birds, butterflies and incredible flowering plants, were separated by covered walkways, light airy rooms and chambers that Pardigan could only guess at the use of. Floors, walls and even ceilings were painted in wondrous patterns and pictures, many constructed from tiny, colourful ceramic tiles. He had found the throne room quite quickly, but as he had peeked in, he found it filled with people and the funny little butterfly man sitting up high on what looked like a chair made of old bones. All the people in the room were bowing and scraping around him while someone he couldn't see was droning on and on in a boring monotonous voice. Pardigan had slunk away, deciding to spend some time searching the rest of the palace first before dealing with the crowded throne room. He was happy for a while just listening to chatter and enjoying the pleasant warm air of the palace and gardens, which was a relief after the searing heat of the desert. Why the Emperor, who must be the butterfly man, wanted to invade the awful hot desert when he had such a nice palace was beyond Pardigan's understanding.
The skull wasn't hidden at all, which came as a pleasant surprise. Quite by chance he had been moving through a small garden, to get around a group of chattering courtiers who were blocking the corridor, and had been shocked to find the skull sitting out in plain view on a rock in the middle of an ornamental pool surrounded by lots of lily pads and strange coloured fish. It had been placed beside a small fountain that showered water in a fine cascade over the clear crystal, making it appear as if the skull was crying - it certainly didn't look happy. Pardigan glanced about, surely anyone could just wade into the water and take it, this was going to be easy, he resisted the temptation for the moment, remembering his experience stealing the rose, and decided to return to the throne room first to see if he could bring back information, as well as the skull.
He found it strange that people were moving about the palace quite happily, talking gaily as if they weren't aware there was a terrible battle being fought a short way from them through a magical doorway. They appeared very different to people from the Realm, quite a few of them were dressed in tight floor length robes made from shiny material woven in a variety of beautiful patterns and colours which were nice, he supposed, but they seemed to restrict the wearers movements. They were forced to shuffle their feet in tiny steps to walk, which was just plain silly. Pardigan noticed with interest that these particular residents of the palace, who were both men and women, had lots of bright paint on their lips, cheeks and around their eyes. They were also wearing strange wooden shoes that clacked and clicked as they tottered about. They didn't look to be dangerous, at least, not like the huge warriors that were also striding about, entering and leaving, pushing past the gaudily dressed courtiers with disdain and contempt - it really was a very strange place.
He finally managed to step into the throne room behind two shuffling courtiers, and then quickly moved to what he hoped was a safe spot to observe what was happening. He crouched down and waited, glancing about.
The hall was a large, dark circular chamber at least fifty spans across with pillars on the outer edge set about three paces apart. Hanging from each, was an oil lamp offering a meagre low-flickering illumination. Beside each pillar stood a uniformed guard in shining armour, each holding a long spear with what appeared to be a flag hanging from the point. They were stern and unmoving, and Pardigan immediately decided they must have one of the most boring jobs he had ever seen.
I wonder how long they have to stand like that? He thought about tickling the nose of one to try and make him sneeze, but an image of Tarent shaking his head filled his mind, and he returned to his study of the hall.
Within the chamber, hundreds of ornate wooden chairs were set out, fanning around the central figure still perched upon his strange throne. Most of the chairs were occupied. Pardigan's attention turned to the Emperor as he clapped his hands and watched as a courtier stood and shuffled forward upon his wooden shoes. The man dropped to his knees and touched his head upon the floor and then, without rising, the man started to talk, very fast in a high-pitched voice making it difficult for Pardigan to make out what he was saying, especially because the man still had his face pressed to the cold stone making his voice sound strangely muffled whilst everyone sitting in the chairs waited in silence.
Moving a little closer, Pardigan squatted by an empty chair where he thought he might see better and hopefully hear some more information. The throne was set high upon a podium made up of twelve wide steps putting the Emperor's feet at head height to anyone standing before him. The throne wasn't made of bones as he had first thought, he could see that now, it was made of those strange long teeth from the elephants, which he thought was horrible. To either side of the throne stood two tall torches, flickering, bathing the Emperor in golden light. He was still wearing the same purple and gold outfit with the bizarre hat that Pardigan had seen him in before, he looked bored and didn't seem to be taking much notice of the man grovelling at his feet at all, he could even have been asleep, except Pardigan could see that he wasn't because his hand held a golden fan that he flicked open and closed, open and closed, the click, click sound that it made, the only other noise to intrude upon the silence of the chamber. I think he's tired, thought Pardigan. The way he's sitting sort of slumped and his breathing is slow and heavy reminds me of Bartholomew just before he falls asleep at the dinner table.
Pardigan's attention shifted as he noticed a huge dark crystal, nestled in an ornate setting standing tall behind the Emperor. Every once in a while a flicker of energy travelled through it, like a fork of lightning from a hot summer storm. Something about the crystal felt strange, malignant and frankly, evil. He studied the smooth dark surface, not really understanding why it made him feel that way, and then a white tortured face rolled across the surface as if swimming up from some considerable depth, mouth wide in a silent scream, eyes turned up to reflect tormented pain… and then it disappeared as quickly as it had come leaving Pardigan feeling cold and slightly nauseous, a shiver of fear ran the length of his spine, he didn't want to be here, the impulse just to get up and leave was suddenly almost overwhelming.
The Emperor leaned back and stroked the crystal, which drew more flickers of energy coursing up from the depths and more tortured faces pressing against the inner surface, Pardigan stumbled back, struggling to hold onto the invisibility spell. The person closest to him glanced around, a frown crossing the painted face as he searched for the source of the noises that Pardigan hadn't even realised he'd made. He felt sick, what the Source was that thing?
After that, the Emperor seemed to wake up, he flapped his hand at the grovelling man and a guard came forward to pull the man roughly to his feet. Shock registered on the man's face, and he seemed unsure of what to do, and then with obvious relief and a huge smile, he allowed himself to be ushered back to his chair. A gong clashed, reverberating about the room and what sounded like a name was called. A military man in polished armour with a feathered helmet under his arm entered through the door behind Pardigan, marched towards the throne and dropped to one knee at the foot of Emperor's platform. What little noise there had been in the room hushed again as everyone, including Pardigan, strained
to hear the exchange as the Emperor leant forward to study the man below him.
The Emperor's voice was high and lilting and to Pardigan's ears he sounded almost amused to have the warrior kneeling before him.
'What news of the battle General, how goes it? Have we yet taken possession of the desert city?' The fan flicked open with a clack, fluttering before the Emperor's face.
'My Lord Emperor, your troops attack, we pile our dead against the city walls. The great Drac-Au-Shun sprays its fire upon the city and is creating great fear and devastation…'
'And yet?' interrupted the Emperor, 'I sense that you have so far failed in your task. Have we taken the desert city or not? I wish to gather souls and march upon the coastal cities before the full moon. This was but a simple task I placed upon your somewhat ample shoulders General… have you been unsuccessful? Or are the rumours I have been hearing today about the palace somehow… untrue?'
The General sank to both knees and slowly bent forward until his face touched the first step. 'We have not yet breached the defences of the city my Emperor. The desert people have somehow constructed a shield that defies both our weapons and also the great Drac-Au-Shun. We respectfully request your presence to aid us in defying their magic so that we may do your will and slaughter the city dwellers.' The Emperor closed his fan and tapped it thoughtfully against the smooth curved ivory arm of the throne. 'I shall be joining you at sunset, General. I will come to gather the souls of those who have fallen and at that time, I will dispense with this protective shield. Be ready to attack as the sun sets on this city's final day. Now leave me, all of you.' He stood and waved his fan dismissively, his voice rising to a high screech. 'Get out… get out all of you, now!'
