by Lori Dillon
"What happened, lad? Where is Lady Jill?" Kendale asked, kneeling by the boy's side.
Owen looked back and forth between the knights, confusion puckering his brow. Slowly, his eyes cleared and he focused on Baelin, panic taking the place of his disorientation. He clutched Baelin's surcoat in a frantic grasp.
"My lady. She has been taken."
Baelin's dragon heart stopped beating.
"I tried, my lord. Truly I did. But they came upon us without a sound. 'Twas as if they formed out of the very darkness itself and disappeared back into the night before I could do aught. They took Lady Jill with them."
His stomach clenched in a tight knot at the boy's words. "Who?"
"They had the look of knights, but like none I have ever seen before. They wore black surcoats with a red dragon." Owen broke down in soul-racking sobs. "I am sorry, my lord. I was unable to speak nor move, as if a spell was cast upon me. I would have fought with my last breath to stop them if I could."
"I know," Baelin said softly, aware the boy's anguish mirrored his own. "You did well. 'Twas a foe even a knight grown could not stand against alone."
"Before they disappeared, they bade me to tell you…" Owen gasped then hiccuped, trying to catch his breath.
"What, lad?"
"They said to tell you Lady Jill would live only until the rise of the next full moon."
Kendale stood, his angry gaze scouring the shadows beyond the meadow for an enemy Baelin knew was no longer there. "By all that is holy, these men, when we find them, will pay dearly with their lives if they harm Lady Jill."
"They told me to tell you something else, my lord."
"What?" Kendale asked, as he pulled the boy to his feet, although Baelin already suspected the answer.
"That you would know where to find her."
Cold resolve spilled over Baelin. "Aye, I know where they have taken her, only too well."
"Where?" Kendale asked.
"'Twas the Dark Witch's warriors who spirited her away, of that I have no doubt. Already Lady Jill will be deep within the walls of the witch's realm. Dawn comes soon. I must hurry, before 'tis too late."
"Then there is no time to waste," Kendale said as he strode back to the fire. "Owen, ready my armor."
He grabbed the knight's shoulder and spun him around. "You wish to fight by my side?"
"Of course. Think you I would leave you to battle this foe alone?"
"But only hours ago you tried to kill me."
Kendale shrugged. "I am a dragonslayer. 'Tis what I do."
"Then we are enemies no more?" Baelin asked as he tucked the rolled tapestry in his belt.
"I think not." Kendale chuckled, appearing more concerned with donning his armor than with the beast standing at his side.
Baelin watched Owen arm his master for battle, surprised a dragonslayer could dismiss the creature he was so easily.
"But I am still part dragon."
Kendale looked him in the eye, all joviality gone. "And part knight. A very honorable one, I might add. Lady Jill tried to tell me that when I took her from you, but I would not listen. Now I have seen with my own eyes that all is not what it seems. I will not soon forget you saved my life, perhaps when 'twould have been easier for you to let the dragon have me."
"You are giving up slaying dragons, then?"
"Perhaps. I may take up witch hunting instead. It appears you could use some help with this one."
"I shall help, too," Owen said as his handed Kendale his sword belt.
"Nay!" Baelin immediately regretted the harsh tone of his voice. "I am sorry, Owen. 'Tis not possible."
The boy glanced back and forth between the two men, then looked to his master for an answer. "But I have always accompanied you into battle, my lord. Who will ready your armor? Who will tend Flaume Stelan?"
Baelin placed a gentle hand on the boy's bony shoulder. "The horse will have to stay behind, as will you, I am afraid."
Kendale arched a dark brow and Baelin answered his questioning look. "To go where they have taken Lady Jill, we must fly. And since neither you nor your horse has wings, I will have to carry you. You are heavy enough, with the added weight of your armor. Strong though I may be, I can only manage to carry a horse while in my dragon form."
Kendale's brave façade slipped a notch. While he had no qualms about facing witches and dragons, the prospect of taking flight left him looking a bit green.
"You do not have to go."
"Of course I do," Kendale said as he cinched his belt tighter. "There is a battle to fight and a damsel to save. What kind of knight would I be if I ignored such a challenge?"
"One that would live to see another day."
Baelin turned to Owen, his young face pale with the dawning realization of the danger the men were about to face.
"If we do not return before the full moon rises, you must leave here at once and never return, for it will be too late for the rest of us."
"With God's help and my sword at your back, perhaps it will not be." Kendale pulled his helm over his head. "Come, the time for talk is done. Let us be off to rescue your lady."
CHAPTER 36
Jill sat on the cold stone floor of her latest prison, any hope of escape fading with each passing moment.
While it was clean, not fetid or disgusting like the one in the village, it was no less frightening. Maybe because this time she didn't have Baelin's comforting presence on the other side of the wall to help her through whatever was to come.
Was he looking for her? Did he even know where to look?
Probably. But that didn't mean he would come.
He'd been avoiding this place all along, not wanting to come here, not wanting to face whatever nightmares the witch had put him through.
As Jill looked at the stark room, she could hardly blame him. The brilliant white walls of her cell glistened in the torchlight as if carved of crystal. A cool chill permeated the air, drawing the warmth from her body. Was this what Baelin feared, knowing the Dark Witch had the power to slowly suck the life out of anyone near her? She could only imagine what would befall her when the witch decided to make her presence known.
Jill didn't know how long she'd been here. The last thing she remembered, she'd been standing with Owen in the field by the grave and then she woke up here. She didn't have to ask where 'here' was. But with no windows in her crystal cell, there was no way to measure the passage of time. It could've been hours. Or days. Or—having witnessed only a fraction of the Dark Witch's powers so far—years.
Was it already too late? Had the full moon come and gone and Baelin returned to his dragon form for another year?
Already she felt his loss, so great she could hardly draw breath around the painful ache it left deep in her chest. Everything she'd been through, everything Baelin had been through for over two hundred years, all for nothing.
She never heard the click of a lock or the creak of an opening door. In fact, since the room appeared to be carved out of a block of solid stone, she hadn't been able to even find the door, though she'd spent what seemed like hours searching for it. All she knew was one moment she was alone and the next there were two guards in the room with her, their faces covered by dark helms, completely dressed in black.
"The Queen summons you."
And your fate awaits, echoed a voice off the walls inside her head.
Jill rose unsteadily to her feet. The guards led her down a long arched corridor to a cavernous hall. The walls, ceiling, and floors of the chamber were made out of the same glistening white crystal as her cell. Led to an empty stone throne at the end of the great hall, the guards left her to stand alone before its imposing presence.
Still dressed in her dark, travel-worn gown, Jill felt like a messy stain on a crisp white table cloth. Everywhere she looked was white, so bright it hurt to keep her eyes open. It was as if the entire fortress had been carved out of a mountain of colorless crystal. The entire chamber was stunning in its brilliance, captivating in its
achromatism.
But there was no sound. No birds singing or insects chirping through the arched openings framing either side of the chamber. No hurried bustle of servants or happy laughter of children from other rooms within the fortress.
No music. No voices. No life.
How could a place so pristine and beautiful feel so dead?
Into the stillness, a gust of wind blew from outside the archways, a cold breeze dancing in the gossamer curtains like ethereal ghosts.
And then Jill saw her.
A woman dressed in a white satin gown encrusted with sparkling diamonds sat on the throne that moments before had been empty. Or rather, a girl. She looked no older than seventeen or eighteen. Long, cascading curls so light a shade of blonde they were almost white, framed a heart-shaped face. A flawless pale complexion complemented plump, pouty lips and enormous crystal clear violet eyes.
A white angel holding court in a palace of sparkling crystal. She was the most beautiful creature Jill had ever seen.
"Oh, my God. He turned you down?"
The witch, who until then had showed no expression on her beautiful face, cocked a brow at Jill. Then she laughed, a musical sound that filled the chamber, bouncing off the crystal walls and back again.
"Ah, Lady Jill. I had heard you were different, but I had no idea how so."
"Was that supposed to be a compliment?"
"No. I do not pay compliments to anyone, least of all a mere mortal such as you."
The Dark Witch rose from her throne and moved down the steps toward her. She glided with such fluid motion, Jill had to glance down to see if her feet touched the ground.
"I am Queen Isylte."
"I gathered as much."
This close, the witch's lavender eyes sparkled in a kaleidoscope of violets and purples, the colors moving and changing in a mesmerizing dance. Jill looked away before she fell under their powerful pull. The witch might look the part of the innocent, but she radiated malice from the inside out.
"You slew one of my dragons."
"Not on purpose."
"But you did, none the less. I should kill you for that."
The fact she hadn't been turned into a toad yet made Jill bold. "So why haven't you?"
"Because I am not done with you, yet." Isylte smiled, the catty grin never reaching her eyes. "Come, Lady Jill. I have something I wish to show you."
The witch turned and walked away, her confidence and regal bearing at odds with her youthful appearance. A doorway materialized in the wall behind the throne and Isylte disappeared into the next room without looking back.
Jill supposed she could refuse to follow, but that would get her nowhere. She wanted answers. She needed to find a way to save Baelin, if it wasn't already too late. The key to his curse was hidden somewhere within these cavernous walls, perhaps lying just beyond that door.
She really didn't have any choice. She followed.
Baelin looked down on a place he hoped never to see again.
A place of pain. A place of degradation. A pit of hell.
"It does not look so bad."
He glanced at the knight standing beside him among the ragged crags of the mountainside. He knew what Kendale saw before him. A beautiful fortress, its towering walls of gleaming crystals cloaked in shifting clouds of mist.
"Do not let its beauty deceive you. The Dark Witch's magic is powerful. She can make the day seem as night or the sun be the moon and you will believe it, until she has your soul."
Now that he'd recovered from their flight, Kendale would not be swayed. "How then do we scale walls of ice built on a mountain of mist?"
"We do not. Already she knows I am here. The gates will be open, and she will be waiting." Baelin turned to his friend. "'Tis not too late. This is not your battle. You have seen what the Dark Witch has done to me. I cannot promise once we enter the walls, we will ever leave again."
Kendale smiled and checked his sword. "But if we could be assured of the victory, what fun would there be in that?"
"Ah, victory. Would that we could be guaranteed it just this once. But I fear no matter what the outcome, I am going to lose Jill. Time has run out for me. Already the sun begins to set. In a matter of hours the full moon will rise and I shall become the dragon once more."
"Do not concede what has yet come to pass. Hours may be all that we need. Mayhap the last challenge you seek lies within those walls of ice."
"Perhaps it does." Maybe all he'd been through, all the long years of fighting against his fate, had finally brought him to this point.
Back to her.
Baelin readied his weapon, knowing it had little power against the witch's magic.
"Be warned, the closer I get to the Dark Witch's realm, the more power she has over the beast within me. 'Tis why I have never returned before. If we still remain within her walls once the sun sets, I will return to my dragon form and then she will have complete control over the creature I become. I will not know you for the friend you are, nor Lady Jill for the woman I love. If that should happen…"
He could not finish the request.
"I give you my word. " Kendale placed one hand on Baelin's shoulder and squeezed. "But I pray it will not come to pass."
Baelin hoped he was right. For if he was not, Kendale would be Jill's only hope.
He would be the only one left to save her—and he would have to slay the dragon Baelin would become to do it.
The door led to another chamber. A bedroom, to be exact.
Though the room was large, like the great hall before, the furnishings within were sparse. A lady's dressing table carved out of pale wood occupied one corner, its edges gilded in silver. Two high-backed chairs with white pillowed cushions faced a roaring fire that did little to dispel the chill in the air. A large bed big enough to sleep the entire Brady Bunch family at one time sat on a raised dais. Covered in white furs, its massive frame dominated the entire room.
With such an obvious fondness for white, Jill wondered where the queen got the nickname of the Dark Witch.
"I like what you've done with the place. Very impressive. But the whole white monochrome thing must be a bear to keep clean."
Isylte frowned, as if the concept that dirt would dare mar the pristine perfection of her domain was inconceivable.
"I am pleased you approve. There are not many mortals who have ever gained entrance into my private chambers."
"So what makes me so special?"
"'Tis what I would like to know." The Dark Witch paced a circle around her, her amethyst gaze examining her from head to toe and back again, analyzing, studying, judging. "What makes you different from all the others? How is it you have succeeded where the others have failed?"
"Just lucky, I guess."
"Nay, there is something more. Something different. Over the centuries I have watched the other maidens come and go. You are not as beautiful as some, but you have a knowledge and experience the others did not have."
Without warning, Isylte put her hands on Jill's shoulders, sending an electric current rushing through her body. The Dark Witch's eyes widened in surprise at the static shock that passed between them. She released Jill and stepped back.
"Ah, I see. How interesting. When I created the curse, I knew there was no maid alive with the courage and honor to break it. But I did not foresee a woman from the future coming through time to face the challenges. Yet here you are."
"Yes, here I am. Guess the devil is in the details, isn't it?"
Isylte cocked her head. "Hmm, I like that. 'The devil is in the details.' I shall have to remember it." Her smile vanished as quickly as it came. "And you are one minor detail I did not plan on."
She sauntered away, turning her back on Jill, dismissing her significance with that one single gesture. "But no matter. All I must do is wait until the moon rises and it will be too late for Baelin." She whipped around, her pale hair fanning about her shoulders, the lines of her face cruel and vindictive. "And for you."
Now she knew why they called her the Dark Witch. She may look like an angel on the outside, but inside she was nothing but selfishness and cruelty.
Isylte walked over to the wall by the bed and pulled aside a white curtain. The sudden splash of vibrant color against the white stone shocked Jill's eyes, but it was the image depicted in the weaving hanging there that broke her heart.
It was Baelin. Or at least what was left of him. From the chest down, the rest of the tapestry was missing, the lower edge fringed with dangling threads.
"A remarkable likeness, is it not?"
Jill found it hard to speak around the painful knot in her throat. "Yes, it is."
"It was once magnificent, but you have managed to ruin it."
"Me? How? I never touched the thing."
"Do not be naive. You did not have to. The challenges. With each one you have passed, you have managed to unravel my magic."
A puzzle piece finally fell into place in Jill's mind. "Just like Baelin's tapestry has been reweaving itself each time."
"Yes, but so long as a portion of this tapestry remains intact, the curse still holds its power."
Jill looked at the ragged tapestry. There was so little left of Baelin. So little time left for both of them. That their lives had been turned upside down by this woman's caprice enraged her. She wanted to strike out, to hurt the witch as she'd hurt Baelin.
"Looks like your little curse is hanging on by a very thin thread there, lady."
"Do not taunt me!" Isylte shrieked. She made a motion with her hand and Jill braced herself to be turned into some slimy, reptilian creature. It didn't happen. The witch lowered her arm and breathed deeply, her nostrils flaring in her bid to regain control. "No, not yet. But when this is over, you will regret your ill-chosen words."
"I usually do," Jill mumbled to herself. "But it's not over yet."
"No, it is not. I will admit you surprised me when you made it this far. I underestimated you. But there is still the final challenge. One I am confident you will fail."
"How can you be so sure?"
"For one thing, Baelin must be with you to complete it."