35
Elder Galagedra sat in front of the orb which was pulsating and glowing brightly. He felt like he had aged years since Matt was taken. His silver hair was hanging down his back in a neat twist. His normally twinkling eyes were weary and tired and he drummed his fingers in time with the pulse of the orb.
The cushions reacted to the tense atmosphere in the chamber. They were flying across the room like shooting stars. The light bounced off the walls and caused an eerie glow on Galagedra’s drawn face, making the lines on his cheeks seem more severe.
“What news?” the elders asked.
They popped in as often as their other duties would allow. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes they came in threes and fours. Galagedra kept everyone updated as much as he could. There was not much they could see or assist with in Drakmere. It was all so terribly frustrating and frightening.
Galagedra sighed. “No news since the children went into Drakmere.”
One of the elders shook his head. “It was very irresponsible of Madgwick and Rig to take them in with them.”
Galagedra lifted his hand to stay the rising murmurs. “We have already discussed that. The warriors had no idea that the two boys were following them through the doorway. However, we know that Madgwick and Rig went back for them. The boys will be safe as long as they stay with the warriors.”
“Does anyone know what made Angie rush into the forest. Has anyone seen her since?”
The elders present all shook their heads.
Galagedra continued. “There is evidence that she is in Drakmere. I see her face in the orb every now and then.”
The elders gasped at the news.
“She must have seen something and decided she was needed, or at least I hope so. Her magic and temper will be most helpful to our rescue team.”
Although Angie chose to live in their realm and amongst the Sandustians, she was not a Sandustian. Angie was a witch with her own powerful and peculiar brand of magic. She was last seen in her garden when she shrieked and rushed into her home. A few minutes later she was racing towards the forest. One of the elders met her at the forest gate and wanted to discuss the magical use of something called arila sand, but she had no time. The elder was annoyed that she would not listen and made the grave error of blocking her exit. He was later found hopping into town. The spell that had turned the elder into a toad was so strong that the spell weavers were still trying to undo it. The poor toad-man would have to wait for her return to untie the knots of the spell.
* * *
Thirza sat silently by the wall in the corner of the cell he shared with Holka. The castle magic had been broken by the crack that resounded through the kingdom and by now the prisoners were starting to remember wives, children, and husbands.
But Thirza had never been affected by the castle magic in the first place. He was as immune to the castle magic as he was to Wiedzma’s magic. And all these years he had stayed to protect Holka and because sooner or later, he knew, Grzegorz would find another way to take a child. And he was determined to stop him.
Holka sat quietly, her orange tunic smeared with dirt and moss. Her yellow stockings had holes from her legs brushing against the roughness of the walls. Her golden hair was plaited and gleamed dimly in the faint torchlight while her pink eyes were large in her pale face. The memories had started to flood back.
Unlike all the others, Holka was not gasping and weeping, because she was a warrior, a Sandustian warrior. Her eyes started to shine when she remembered that her true name was Gwyndion.
She was not going to waste time on what she could not change. She was trying to remember as much as she could. Her training would help her get out of this situation and back to Matt upstairs. Now she understood her urge to protect the boy. It was her natural instinct.
She glared at Thirza every now and then. He was shuddering, wallowing in misery, probably because he was down there with the rest of them, she thought bitterly.
“Your plan failed, did it? Your ‘friends’ betrayed you,” she said.
Thirza looked up. Gwyndion’s mouth dropped open when she saw how old he suddenly looked.
“Yes,” he sobbed. “I failed. I could not save Matt.”
“You never intended to save him, you were horrible from the start,” Gwyndion fumed.
“I had to keep him unhappy. It was the only way to ensure the enchantment would not work. I was trying to sneak him out of the castle tonight but I was too late. It’s too late.”
Gwyndion frowned. She could see that Thirza was distraught. Could it be that he was telling the truth? Over the years he had been the only one she could talk to and rely on but since Matt had arrived, he had changed. He went from being a sweet old soul to a horrible grumpy old man who was very much like Grzegorz.
“What do you mean about the enchantment? Why would Matt need to be unhappy?”
Gwyndion gasped as she understood the spell that was used. She slapped her hand on her knee.
“No! That evil, wicked witch! They needed him happy, and I fell for it! I was helping to entrap his mind. You were keeping the spell from binding.”
Gwyndion was beside herself. She stood up and walked over to Thirza.
“What do you mean it’s too late?”
“Wiedzma forced him to drink a potion that would make him fall into a coma. It’s irreversible. That poor child.”
Thirza’s shoulders were bunched up. He looked like a broken man. Gwyndion shook her head.
“Are you sure you saw it, maybe …”
“I saw it. The little boy drank it all.”
Gwyndion sank back down to the floor, a frown wrinkling her forehead.
“We have to get out of here. Perhaps the elders’ magic would help Matt.”
There was also someone else that could help, someone called Allie or Angel or something, but Gwyndion could not remember her name.
Sleeping or not, she was not leaving Matt here. She did not know where the moonglow doorway was, but if she could get to the enchanted trees in the forest, they might spread word of her desperate plight. She was positive that help would come if they knew she was there.
“Hang on …” Gwyndion clicked her fingers as if she had a thought. “Do you think they know that the magic of the castle has been broken?”
Thirza frowned. “I am not sure. I don’t think so. They are so confident about the spell woven into the castle. Why?”
“Listen …” Thirza put his head to one side. All he heard was sounds of anguish. He looked at Gwyndion blankly.
Impatiently Gwyndion explained.
“They are all remembering. You said yourself the castle magic has been broken. Could it be that the exits are broken too? Perhaps you can get out through the tunnels. You can save all of these people here. Their memories of their families are starting to return. Once the castle enchantment is restored, their memories will be wiped clean again. We have to save them now while we can, while they remember who they are and why they need to flee.”
Thirza stood up. “We could! But why are you only saying you?” He frowned at Gwyndion. “What are you going to do?”
Gwyndion stood up as well. “I am going to fetch that child. He is not staying here even if there is nothing I can do to wake him. I will keep searching until I find a spell or someone that can undo that spell.”
“But,” started Thirza.
“But nothing. You get these people out!” Gwyndion snapped.
Then she turned to him and asked, “You have been here since I can remember and since my memories are not all back yet, how long I have been here? Who are you really?” Gwyndion pushed. She wanted some answers.
“I got here when Grzegorz took the last child. I swore it would never happen to another.” Thirza had his head bowed as if he could not go on.
“When they first captured you, Gwyndion, some years ago, you were almost broken. I kept you down here until the castle magic had taken hold. I am sorry I did that. Once it was safe and your memories were
blocked, you were introduced as the slave girl Holka. No one knew you were a Sandustian warrior. It was just in time too, because then the witch arrived. Had she known, she would have tortured you. But it never occurred to her to scan your memories. To her you were just a servant girl and not important.”
A noise came from outside the door. Both Thirza and Gwyndion gasped as they looked into the grinning face of Wiedzma, who had heard everything.
“Well, well, well,” whispered Wiedzma. She stared at Gwyndion as if she could not believe her eyes. Here, in the castle, a Sandustian warrior. She snapped her fingers.
Two guards came down to unlock the doors. One grabbed Gwyndion by the upper arm and dragged her out, and the other had a tight grip under her armpit. She immediately struggled and made it difficult for them to hold her, but her strength was not fully returned and she had no dust either. She was helpless.
Thirza yelled at Wiedzma to let her go, but within minutes he was alone, Wiedzma’s laugher receded down the corridor until there was just silence.
After the sound of footsteps disappeared, Thirza tested the door to his chamber. There was an orange spark but the door swung open easily. It was not locked as he had anticipated. Thirza quickly pushed the other doors open and slowly the prisoners started to come out. He explained briefly what was happening. “We do not have a lot of time. The magic will try to repair the damage or Wiedzma will realise the problem and fix it with a wave of her hand. We have to leave now and quickly.”
Thirza sent men down the different corridors to open doors and to make sure that they did not leave anyone behind. His heart sank when he realised how many people were down there.
He barely remembered the way as he led the cold, dirty, hungry people away from the dungeon. The lit torches were their only light. The tunnels crawled in circles, intercepting with other tunnels.
The shuffling crowd followed Thirza along the tunnels until all sense of direction was gone. The passages started off wide with high ceilings and then became so narrow people had to shuffle one behind the other.
Nobody spoke. There was no whispering, everyone was quiet. Everyone understood the urgency and blindly followed Thirza into the darkness.
36
Madgwick stopped and leaned against a huge tree, staring at the castle ahead of him. They had made it! This was Drakmere castle, and Matt was inside.
The building was grey, dull and huge with high walls and turrets. Dark thunderclouds, almost black, hung over the castle, looking ready to burst. A cold wind gusted around the castle walls, lifting leaves before slapping them against the stone. Every now and then an orange spark jumped randomly along the castle walls and windows.
Rig came up beside Madgwick. “What’s with the sparks?” he asked.
“No idea,” answered Madgwick.
Rig looked at the castle with distaste, not liking the sparks at all. “Something is off here,” he muttered.
Jeff and Rhed finally caught up with them.
“That’s it?” breathed Jeff. “Whoa, it’s amazing. It looks like some kind of a fairytale castle.”
Madgwick turned away, facing Jeff and Rhed. “That is not what it really looks like. You are not seeing the real thing. Remember what we told you. Nothing is as it seems in Drakmere and the closer to the castle you get the more enticing everything around you becomes. You are seeing the fantasy, not the reality. As warriors, our minds are protected so we see the real thing, thunderclouds and all.”
“Let’s sit. We need to talk,” Madgwick began. Then he put on his most serious face. “You cannot come into the castle with us.”
Jeff opened his mouth to complain but Rig silenced him with a finger and a severe look, then motioned for Madgwick to continue.
“Rig and I intend to go into that castle to rescue Matt. We don’t know what condition he will be in but we do know we will have to fight our way in and out. We cannot do that and survive if we have to watch your backs as well. We know the risks and are aware that either one of us may not come out of that castle. That is what we signed up for. You have to stay here.”
Jeff muttered, “This sucks!”
“So uncool,” added Rhed.
Rig had to be firm. “Boys, this is our one shot, our only shot at rescuing Matt.
Rhed nodded in agreement. “But is there anything we can do to help? From here,” he hurriedly added on seeing Rig’s face cloud over.
Rig answered, “Stay inside the tree line, stay out of sight. Be ready to move and move fast when we get back. If we are not back by sunset, climb the trees. The shimmers will not look for you there. They can’t go too high or they will float away.”
Madgwick looked at Rig when he said this but Rig ignored him.
Rhed was appalled with the idea of climbing a tree. “Are you nuts? The last tree tried to adopt me.”
“First of all, these trees on the edge of the forest are not as magical as the trees deeper in the forest. There is no way any of these are even awake enough to take a liking to you. Besides, you are already adopted. A tree adoption is forever, so these trees will recognise you as kin but won’t try and keep you. Secondly,” Rig reached into his bag and took out two pongsap roots. “Carry this with you. No self-respecting tree will touch you with that in your hand.”
Jeff nodded solemnly and looked at his root with a wrinkled nose and then up at the trees, mentally picking which tree they would climb.
Madgwick and Rig looked around. Rig slapped the kids on the back, Madgwick ruffled their hair and they were off. They moved silently through the trees and stopped just before they reached the edge of the forest.
“Rig? What was all that about the boys climbing the trees to escape the shimmers, and shimmers floating away?”
Rig snorted. “Well, they won’t wander off if they think that there may be shimmers around, and we must be able to find them when we get back. It will be best if they climb a tree and stay nice and quiet. I have scouted; the shimmers are quite far off.”
Madgwick shook his head, “Cruel. Rig, that’s just cruel.” After a brief pause Madgwick spoke again. “Okay, what’s the plan?” he muttered while he was counting the guards he could see.
“Don’t have one. You? I count six on the north side …”
“Three guards on this side. We can get past them easily. No plan? Well, how about this. We get in, try and stay undetected for as long as possible, find the child and get out, silently or violently, their choice,” said Madgwick.
Rig nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
They sprinkled dust and became invisible. It would not last long but it was enough to get them to the castle walls and out of sight from the guards patrolling the walls. They made for the tunnel entrance that Rig knew about. He had tried to gain access there many years ago when he was searching for Gwyndion. The tunnels were locked back then and he was on his own. Now he had Madgwick and together they could try to force the tunnel open.
It was a lousy plan but better than knocking on the front gate. They reached the narrow tunnel, half hidden behind a glossy green creeper. The entrance did not have a gate or bars but it did have an orange spark flitting across every few minutes. Rig tentatively pushed his hand past the entrance, wincing in preparation for the electrical shock he was expecting. But nothing: he felt nothing at all as his hand passed the barrier.
Rig whispered, “I don’t know what is going on, but the entrance is open. Something is happening here.”
“It could be a trap. But we have no choice, so let’s go.”
Rig nodded. Without hesitation he disappeared deeper into the tunnel. Madgwick took a long look at the bright sunshine before turning and going in after Rig.
They walked in the darkness, only daring to spare a little light, just enough for their path. After a while, they entered a cavern with walls so high that the light did not reach all the way to the ceiling or to the sides. They heard shuffling and quickly pushed against a wall, dropping the light so that they were in darkness.
A
light was flickering in the distance. It seemed to be coming down one of the tunnels, and then the shuffling grew louder. It was creepy. The circle of light grew bigger and bigger, bobbing up and down.
To Madgwick and Rig’s surprise, it was a horde of people dragging their feet and huddled close to each other as if they were cold. In the dim light their faces looked haggard. No one was talking. Everyone had a grim face, and in the front was an old man holding the fire. Rig frowned, staring at the old man as if he had seen him before.
The old man stopped, waiting for the last person of the large crowd to enter the cavern. He looked around as if he was not sure which of the tunnels would lead to the exit. Rig stepped forward, he opened his mouth but the old man saw him first. Instead of shouting out in fear, he just raised a hand towards him, like he was reaching out to a long-lost friend.
“You survived the shimmers,” he said.
Thirza told Madgwick and Rig about the broken enchantment and that he was leading all these people away from the dungeons, to freedom, before the exits were resealed.
“We have no time to waste then,” said Madgwick firmly. He pointed out the correct tunnel, the one they had just come out of.
Thirza motioned the crowd to move down the right tunnel.
“Keep going. Once outside, head straight for the trees. Keep going.” He urged.
Once the people were moving, Madgwick spoke with disgust. “All these people were in the dungeon?”
Thirza nodded. “Holka and I were, too. Holka made me lead the people out, their only chance to escape.”
Rig looked around. “Who is Holka?”
“Holka was looking after Matt until she was put into the dungeon as punishment. She was taken back upstairs by Wiedzma, the witch. She was going to try and get to Matt, but I don’t know how she will get away with that now … especially now.” Thirza covered his face in his hands. “I tried to keep him safe but I failed.”
Madgwick’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean, what happened to Matt, is he okay?”
Jeff Madison and the Shimmers of Drakmere (Book 1) Page 16
