“I am Gaelin,” another voice said from across the hall. Dorlagar turned to see an elderly male elf standing in the back of one of the cells. His voice was commanding and resonant, but did not match the skeleton that stood before him, a red robe hanging off of his shoulders and stringy dark gray hair hanging loose about his face. The eyes were keen, however, and their dark depths flashed with life and seemed to pierce Dorlagar’s soul. He broke eye contact with the figure and moved quickly to the cell door.
“You will come with me,” Dorlagar said. The wizard was standing at the cell door before Dorlagar could blink, causing him to stumble back a step or two. “Easy there,” Dorlagar said in an attempt to cover his fumble. “Hands out where I can see them.” Gaelin complied, holding his wrists out in front of him.
Watching carefully, Sath shuddered a bit, remembering the prisoners that had been there much longer than he and Teeand that had explained “the position” that one struck when the guards came to search the cells. He could almost feel the chains fastened around his wrists, and when he glanced down and saw Gin’s tiny hands in the same fashion he almost roared in frustration before he got himself together. “Just a bit longer,” he whispered to her. She did not respond.
Once Dorlagar was satisfied that Gaelin was bound tightly, he pulled the mage out of the cell by the rope. However, Gaelin, being considerably taller than Gin, never lost his footing. His slight frame belied a strong will. “I remember you,” he said to Dorlagar. “You’re the traitor that serves Lord Taanyth, aren’t you?”
“Silence, slave,” Dorlagar barked, his gaze immediately shifting to meet Gin’s confused look. “Keep moving. We don’t want to keep Lord Taanyth waiting.”
“Hmm, twice in one day, I must be quite popular,” Gaelin said, a smile spreading across his face and up into his eyes. Gin liked him immediately, though she was not sure if that was because he was a fellow prisoner or if he was genuinely a good soul. She also was mulling over Gaelin’s words to Dorlagar: You are the traitor that serves Lord Taanyth, aren’t you? She had heard Dorlagar say the word Taanyth before, when he was speaking the dragon language, but had not known enough of it to realize that was a name.
“Thank you for holding that one, brother,” Dorlagar said, resuming speaking the dragon language as he approached Sath and Gin, hands outstretched toward Gin’s rope. “I’ll take that back now, if you don’t mind?” Sath growled at Dorlagar but handed over Gin’s rope.
“I suppose I don’t mind,” Sath replied in Elder Dragon, causing Dorlagar’s eyes to bug out a bit in surprise. He glared at Sath but yanked the ropes to draw attention away from Sath.
“As you were, my brothers,” Dorlagar called out to the wyverns guarding the cells as he walked through the doorway, Gin and Gaelin in tow behind him with Sath bringing up the rear.
“Just get us to a clear space and I will port the three of us to safety,” Gin whispered to him. Dorlagar nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes blazing crimson. He led them back through the corridors with such rapidity that Gin was not able to keep straight which way they were going. Finally, they came to an opening and after some orders to the wyverns to send them away, Dorlagar turned back to Gin and Gaelin. He unbound Gaelin’s hands first, and then slowly untied the rope around Gin’s wrists.
“There. I have kept up my end of the bargain, I hope you will keep yours?” he asked as his eyes slowly faded back from their blood red color.
“Aye. Now if we can all gather in I will transport us to the rest of our party who are surely mad with worry by now,” Gin replied. “I forgive you, Dor, for the murder of my parents. You are a good man who finds himself in bad situations, and I hope that you will improve the company you keep from here on out.”
Sath moved around next to Gaelin who seemed to be having trouble standing and took the ancient wizard’s arm. Gaelin beamed a thankful smile at the Qatu as Gin began speaking ancient Elvish words of transportation magic. “Safety,” she said, the last word of the spell being the one that tells the magical portal where they were going. As she spoke that word, Dorlagar darted over close and threw his arms around Gin before she was taken away by her own spell.
“Sorry,” he whispered in her ear just before clouting her on the head. Everything went black as she lost consciousness.
Gin’s eyes fluttered open, but she had no idea where she was. The walls were cold stone, and huge age-worn tapestries bearing strange marks and creatures hung everywhere. The room was lit by a few torches, but Gin’s elfish vision could make out that she was lying on a huge bed. She soon spotted Dorlagar sitting in a chair across the room, and she sat up as quickly as she could, considering her hands, chained together in front of her. He had been leaning against the wall, and when he heard her moving he righted his chair.
“Hello again, Blueberry,” he said. “I was starting to think you were going to sleep forever!” He crossed the room with large strides and sat down on the bed, a tray of steaming food in his hands. He placed the tray on the bed in front of her.
Gin resisted the urge to scoot away from him, and instead stared him down. “If you think I’m going to eat that, you’re insane,” she said. “I can’t even use my hands, thanks to you and these ridiculous chains. What is the meaning of this?” She tried to sound as fierce as Elysiam when she stood down an enemy in their mission to rescue Gaelin. Gin’s heart sank. They would not know where to look for her because even she was not sure where she was, but if they did find her it would mean certain death for them if they tried to rescue her.
Dorlagar laughed. “Silly Blueberry,” he said. “I’m here to take care of you. Now, what will it be first? Apricot marmalade on buttered toast or some hot oatmeal with wild berries?” Gin merely stared at him, so he picked up the spoon and gathered a steaming spoon full of the oatmeal. “Now then, my dear, you have to eat and keep up your strength.” Gin closed her lips tightly and shook her head. Dorlagar sighed loudly and replaced the now dripping spoon in the bowl. “You frustrate me so,” he said through gritted teeth. “You make me do things I don’t want to do.” He carefully placed the tray on the table by the bed, and again scooped up a spoonful of the oatmeal.
Gin’s eyes widened as Dorlagar closed his forefinger and thumb over her nose, pinching it shut and stifling her breathing. The chains were just short enough to keep her from shoving him due to their size difference. She held her breath as long as she could, and only opened her mouth as the room began to swim before her eyes. Dorlagar popped the mouthful of oatmeal into her mouth and quickly withdrew the spoon before she bit it. Gin gazed into his eyes and mimicked moving the oatmeal around in her mouth, as though tasting it. Unfortunately, it was good, but she could not run the risk that it had been poisoned or drugged. Dorlagar sat on the bed, seeming lost in her eyes. She leaned in close to him and spat the contents of her mouth in his face. Dorlagar roared at her, the back of his hand cracking against her cheekbone. She felt a fiery pain spread throughout the side of her face and up into her forehead, and her eyes watered.
“Starve then!” he bellowed, stalking out of the room. Gin heard the heavy bar fall on the other side of the door, locking her in. Still, no tears came. She mused briefly, thinking about how proud Ailreden would be of her bravery and ability to avoid showing Dorlagar how terrified she truly was. She had learned so much from him and her guild mates...her heart ached at the image of them discovering her missing.
“Please leave me here,” she whispered. “Mother of us All, please guide their feet to safety and not here to me, please.”
Nineteen
Taeben drummed his fingers absently on his spell book. The room was dim, and the leather-bound books blocked what little light came from the candle on the other side of his desk. It was also quite cold in the turret room, and the wizard found himself hunching over as though trying to conserve his own body heat. On the plus side, this was a step up from the cells in the ruins of the Keep, where he had been since his capture, but not much of one. He had been moved to the turret on
ly the night before, after being passed over yet again in the cells by Dorlagar in favor of an older high elf like himself called Gaelin. He wondered, if Gaelin had been freed, what the elder wizard had done to be allowed release, but he knew in his heart that it was more likely that Lord Taanyth’s spell research and testing had finally meant the end for the elf. He pulled his red hair back into a neat ponytail at his neck, struggling to tie the leather thong around it with his cold fingers. At least he had been warmer in the cell, due to its lack of a window.
“Research,” he groused. Rubbing his forehead with his fingers eased the pounding headache for a moment. “Bah, why doesn’t he just kill me?” He selected an ancient grimoire from the stack of books and opened it, frowning as the pain returned just behind his eyes. Taeben did not notice the door to the room open and close until a puff of air extinguished the candle. “Ikara’s teeth!” he roared as he flew out of his chair. “Now I’ll have to go all the way down to the...” He stopped short when he saw the form of an enormous dark green-skinned dragon hovering a few inches above the floor. Immediately the elf fell to his knees, his forehead only inches from the stone floor. “Lord Taanyth, forgive me, I did not know it was you...”
“Rise, Taeben,” the dragon hissed. “How goes the research?”
“Not well so far, but I press on,” Taeben said as he stood, being careful to keep his gaze on the floor. “If I had more books, it might speed the process a bit. Perhaps I could make a trip to the Great Library at Calder’s Port in order to...”
“Taeben.” Lord Taanyth’s voice quiet but the tone was unmistakable. The young wizard had spent enough time in the cells to know when he had pushed his captor too far. Taeben tried to look up to catch a glimpse of the dragon, having been blindfolded when he was taken before and used for testing the spell he now researched. However, Lord Taanyth remained, for the most part, obscured by the shadows in the room. All Taeben could see clearly was one dark green clawed foot attached to a tree trunk of a leg. The high elf slowly twisted his head around and almost caught a glimpse of the shimmering scales across the dragon’s nose, but looked away again when Lord Taanyth’s burning amber gaze met his. “You will work with what you have and press on.” With a sweep of his massive tail, the dragon lord had left the room, bolting the door behind him with a thump that shook the stacks of books and threatened to send parchment and quills flying off the tables.
With a growl of his own, Taeben hurled one of the books. It bounced off the heavy stone door with a slight thud, no match for the sound of that bolt that signified, again, that he was the property of the dragon just as he had been while kept in the cells with the other prisoners. The wizard sighed and sat back down at the desk. He pointed one ink-stained finger at the candle and murmured some words in an arcane language, smiling slightly as the wick burst forth with light. He then opened one of the volumes, dipped his quill in the ink, and began recording his notes.
After as much work as he could stand, Taeben crossed the room to the sole window in the turret. He started to pull it shut, but leaned out in order to fill his lungs with fresh air. He lingered there a moment, enjoying the cool night air and contemplating the distance to the ground below.
“Pleasant night, eh wizard?” Dorlagar said from behind him, making Taeben jump. He silently cursed the ability of those in the castle to move about undetected. The stone floors, walls, and doors absorbed the sounds of movement that would have been more prominent had they been made of wood instead. This would make twice in one night that he was surprised by a visitor.
“What do you want, Dorlagar?” Taeben said, his voice low and menacing. Because he was unable to cast any of his more damaging spells while in the castle, he kept a dagger hidden in one of the books on the desk, and slowly moved toward it as he spoke.
“Come with me,” Dorlagar said, his voice pinched a bit. “You’re needed elsewhere, Taeben.” He strode over to the door and turned back to Taeben as he opened it. “Move it.”
“I’ll ask you again, Dorlagar, what do you want?” Taeben did not move.
“I heard you the first time, wizard,” Dorlagar said. He crossed the room and grabbed Taeben by the arm, shoving him toward the door. Taeben glanced at the book that contained the dagger, lamenting its distance from his hand. He stumbled and gasped for air as Dorlagar smacked him between the shoulder blades, urging him forward and out the door. “I need you to keep an eye on something for me. The wyverns are no good for that; I need a magic-user.”
Taeben sighed. “What is it, exactly?” He loathed the human, and found it hard to hide his feelings now that he was no longer under Dorlagar’s thumb. He got to his feet in the hallway just as Dorlagar slammed the turret door and then grabbed Taeben’s arm, leading him down the passageway.
“It is a she, Taeben, a new test subject for Lord Taanyth, and she is called Ginolwenye.” At the mention of the name, Taeben felt his stomach churn. Could it be the same Ginolwenye he had known so many years ago in the forest, the wood elf that had been a playmate when they were children? The wizard bit his tongue to keep from angering Dorlagar further, though his curiosity was getting the best of him. “She is a druid and could cause trouble if allowed to cast on the wyverns that are guarding her,” Dorlagar said.
Taeben’s heart leapt up into his throat. It had to be the same Ginolwenye…Ginny. “Hmmm, seems to me that if she’s yours she shouldn’t need watching, should she Dorlagar? Are the cells with the other test subjects too good for her?” Taeben immediately regretted his words, but still managed a smile at the infuriated look that spread over Dorlagar’s face. The elf braced himself for a certain blow from the human, but it never came.
They stopped suddenly in front of the door leading to the other turret. Dorlagar pulled a key out of his cloak and opened the door, then shoved Taeben through it. “Just do as you’re told. If she moves, root her.” With that, Dorlagar left the room. Taeben could hear the massive bolt click, locking the door behind him.
The room, poorly lit as any in the castle, was dim but Taeben could still make out the furnishings around him. A large bed loomed on the left side, directly across from a fireplace where a smoldering pile of ashes flickered. Taeben cringed slightly at the padlock on the window. His eyes narrowed as his gaze lingered on a lump of sheets on the bed. One tiny hand protruded from under the sheets, its wrist hanging limply in the shackle that connected it to another one still hidden under the sheet. Against his better judgment, the wizard crossed the room to get a better look. Moonlight poured through the window, casting a spotlight on the crumpled form. It was female, and she moved as though stretching, causing Taeben to jump back a step into a shadow as she sat up and the bedclothes fell away from her body.
First, an arm revealed itself, followed by a shoulder. Again, Taeben swallowed a gasp and bit the inside of his cheek as he caught sight of the face he had known since his own childhood in the Forest. Her face was swollen and bruised, and there were finger-shaped marks on her slender neck. Her brown hair was tied up in a braid, but wisps of it were starting to work their way free around her face. She turned toward him, and the moonlight caught her ice-blue eyes making them seem to glow. Those eyes that were so familiar pulled at the farthest reaches of Taeben’s memory. He quickly looked away, pulling his hood back up to hide his features.
“And you would be?” she said, her voice strained and hoarse. No doubt from all the screaming, Taeben thought.
“No one. A bodyguard,” he said, keeping his voice low and making sure to remain in the shadows. To his surprise, the female chuckled at him.
“A bodyguard? You? Speaking the common language?” she snorted. “You’re nothing but an elf like me. Dorlagar’s got those wyverns outside for bodyguards.” She tilted her head to the side slightly to get a better look at him, wincing at the movement. “Why don’t you come out of the shadows? You afraid of something?”
Taeben stepped out into the moonlight just enough for the side of his face to show. “Hardly,” he said. “Least of
all a wood elf druid.” The expression on her face changed and Taeben felt a tiny twinge just under his heart. Had she recognized him? “I’m to make sure you don’t use your magic on the guards out there, is all,” he said quietly as he moved to the fireplace, careful to move in the shadows so that she only caught a glimpse of his red hair. A chill had settled on the castle, and he found himself shivering. “Are you cold? Shall I call one of the wyverns to blow into the fire a bit?”
The female furrowed her brow. “Pffft, I can summon a simple bit of fire.” She turned her gaze to the fireplace and struggled to get to her knees so that she could see it clearly over the end of the bed. She spoke words in Elvish that Taeben recognized, but she did not have the strength to finish the spell.
Taeben stood watching her, transfixed on the verge of laughter and tears at her plight. She tried again, this time making it to the last line of the spell before her energy gave out. “Ikara’s teeth!” she shouted angrily as she tugged at the chains.
“Stop that now,” Taeben said like a father chiding a child. “You’ll only make yourself bleed, you silly child. You can’t hope to summon any magic in the state you’re in at the moment, now can you?” He turned back around to the fire and pointed a finger at it. Upon murmuring the words, tiny flames shot from his hand into the fireplace, igniting the scraps of wood left there. He sighed, lamenting whatever spell it was that Lord Taanyth had ordered that rendered his damaging spells useless. Parlor tricks were all he was good for here.
“Thank you,” Gin said from behind him. Her voice sounded small and tired. “You’re right about the bleeding, and I can’t even properly bandage my wrists with these cursed chains around them.”
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