Grzegorz slowly turned away from the door through which Matt had just disappeared to stare at Thirza, his black eyes narrowed and his cruel lips pouted.
“And just where were you?” he demanded. “You were supposed to know everything. You were supposed to know the child’s whereabouts at all times. How did that brat find Wiedzma’s room and who helped him?”
Thirza inhaled deeply. He had to be careful now or he would end up in the dungeons like everyone else that had served Grzegorz and given him a wrong answer or not the answer he was expecting. Ending up in the dungeon would not help Matt.
He had to buy some time. He was convinced that the call had been heard. That crack was loud enough to travel through time and space. It was inconceivable that it might not have been heard. And if it had been heard then it wouldn’t be long before he got here. Perhaps he was already on his way.
Thirza had slowed the spell down in the beginning by keeping Matt unhappy, and thanks to Matt’s painting episode the spell was ruined for now. However, it was never wise to underestimate Wiedzma.
Thirza cleared his throat and smoothed down his grey hair around his ears. “My Lord, it may be that Matt was not actually looking for Wiedzma’s room in particular, thus the disguise spell would not stop him from entering what would be, in theory, just any room to him.”
Wiedzma straightened suddenly. She had not thought of that. What a stupid loophole. She looked down at the king.
“I don’t care. I want to punish him anyway.”
Grzegorz laughed. “Yes that would be splendid. I am all for squealing, screaming children but I need that potion to work. I need that little brat to be happy, even if we have to force it.”
He turned back to Thirza. “From now on you keep that boy away from Wiedzma’s room or you will pay for his mistakes.”
Thirza bowed his head, turned and left the room.
30
Grzegorz stared out of the window. “How long before the child’s mind is mine? I need this to happen faster. I can’t stand the boy around me anymore.” he muttered angrily.
Wiedzma pouted. “My potions are ruined.” She paused, weighing up her options. “I can try another potion that was not in my room when the brat went into artist mode. It’s a bit drastic but I did not anticipate how horrible a six-year-old could be.” Wiedzma breathed hard. “This is the ultimate potion, made from the rarest flower as well as blood from a witch. Mine, of course.” She laughed as if the thought of another witch’s blood as powerful as hers was ridiculous.
“Once I use this potion, the child will be asleep for the rest of his life. He will never age and never awake again. He will be asleep but his dreams will be accessible to us at all times.” She laughed. “Like a dream donor.”
Grzegorz clapped his hands. “I love it! Why on Drakmere did you not tell me about this before, really Wiedzma! This a much better plan. We should have done this from the start.”
Wiedzma shrugged. “It is very powerful magic and irreversible. It’s also forbidden, but since I am the most powerful witch over all the lands, I don’t really care and I doubt anyone will have the power to stop me.”
Wiedzma’s eyes glistened; she rubbed her hands. “I will prepare the potion and administer it at twilight. It must be given while the sky is fading from pink to purple or the magic will not work. Besides,” she sighed, “the child uttered smo… that unmentionable word, so I don’t want to delay any longer.”
“When are you going to tell me what that was all about? What do you mean, what is sm… that word?” demanded Grzegorz.
“Legend has it that it’s a word forgotten in time, an ancient call for help. The one who calls this word awakens a mythical magical being, more powerful than anything else in existence. I don’t believe in this mumbo jumbo fairytale nonsense. Quite honestly, who could be more powerful than me? Tsk!”
Wiedzma rolled her eyes as if the whole idea was ludicrous.
“Anyway, I don’t want to delay any longer, because something has interfered with my spell. Maybe the maremist did not complete the spell in the forest. I don’t know.”
* * *
The dungeon was dark and smelt musty. The floor was cold with large slabs covered with moss. The slimly walls had frightening grooves, scored by prisoners counting the days and years of their endless captivity.
Each cell had a stone door with black bars that dropped down the middle providing a little light from the torches that lined the walls. It was easy to get lost in the maze of tunnels; some passages were forgotten or caved in. Some led to a mysterious underwater lake or all the way to the forest.
The entrances and exits had been blocked by the magic of the castle. The cells were filled with men, women and children, from servants who worked in the castle or in the grounds to farmers who happened to have the wrong hair colour. All memories of their past life had faded away, leaving only the present.
The crack of the breaking enchantment had swept through the castle, penetrating walls and floors. It punched into the dungeons far below the castle where Holka was curled into a ball, alone in her misery.
The walls trembled, loose earth from between the cold stones scattered onto the prisoners who were huddled together and crying out in fear. The silence lasted a while before it was broken by the voice of a small child echoing through the tunnels, a child crying out for its mother.
Alerted, Holka strained to hear the child, wanting to soothe his or her fear. Then she grabbed her head as hazy memories started flashing through her mind, almost like a dream of another life that could not possibly be hers.
Bewildered, she leaned against the bars of the door and listened to people calling out. They were calling out for daughters, fathers, mothers. The flashes were fast and bright and Holka could hardly stand at the onslaught as she started to remember who she was.
* * *
In another part of the castle, Thirza grimaced as he closed the door to Wiedzma’s room and hurried down the corridor as fast as he could. He had been watching them in the spy mirror that she had placed so conveniently for her own devious use. Wiedzma was not the only one who knew secrets. But Thirza was worried. He had to come up with a plan, and quickly.
He could try to free Holka but her memories were not restored yet. Although the crack had broken her enchantment too, she was so long under the spell that it was going to take some time for her memories to return in full. No, the safest place for Holka right now was in the dungeon, where Grzegorz and Wiedzma would not think about her. If they knew that they had a Sandustian warrior in their dungeon, they would be doing cartwheels down the corridors and laughing like mad at the evil they could perform with her in their power. Holka would never survive that. And Thirza had so carefully kept her identity hidden all these years.
To wait for the rescue would be too late for Matt. The doorway was opened, but the warriors were still far away and Wiedzma and Grzegorz had already sent menacing shimmers to intercept the rescue party. There was no way to say if they had even survived the attack.
He could not take the chance that Azghar would arrive in time and even if he did, there was no guarantee that he would protect Matt. The chance that Azghar would just eat them all was also pretty good.
Thirza was keeping an eye on where Matt was. He somehow had to get him out of the castle before twilight, but Grzegorz had guards stationed around the boy, out of sight but there all the same.
Watching the child play, Thirza idly wondered where he had actually found marbles to play with. Then he blinked and blinked again. Could those be … Oh, this was not going to go down well.
In the short time Matt had been in the castle, without meaning to, he had caused absolute chaos, from tying together the shoelaces of unsuspecting guards to painting with potions, destroying the decor in his imaginative games, and now the marbles.
On Wiedzma’s orders, the guards tried to frog march Matt back to his room. He lifted his legs and the guards grunted as they were forced to carry his full weight down the
corridors and up the staircases.
31
Matt sat miserably at the window and stared longingly at the forest in the distance. After a while, the door opened, and Thirza came in. He was alone and he closed the door.
“We are going on a secret trip,” the old man said. He held his hands up when Matt opened his mouth to ask questions. “No questions! I don’t have the time!” he barked. “Be ready to go when I come back, and don’t tell anyone.” As an afterthought, he turned back and added, “Wear a jacket.”
Matt grinned and clapped his hands together. This was better than staying in the room, doing nothing. He put on a jacket he had found in the wardrobe. It was large and had lots of pockets, which he promptly filled with his treasures such as the bottles of cool glitter stuff and other potions. He then sat by the window to wait, staring at the forest again. Maybe he was going home.
The door opened again. Thirza stood at the doorway. He beckoned to Matt, holding his fingers to his lips. They walked in silence, not meeting anyone. Thirza had reassigned guard shifts so there was a brief moment when the corridors would be empty. The change in shift was so subtle that no one would even notice or get suspicious.
Matt kept quiet, skipping now and then to keep up.
Thirza increased the pace. They were almost there. Just around the next corner and they would reach a doorway that would lead them into the forest.
But as they turned the corner, Thirza’s heart sank. Wiedzma was leaning against the wall with a row of guards behind her. She had a huge contented smile on her face.
Wiedzma lazily pushed away from the wall, not looking up. She was inspecting her nails.
“Now, why would you believe you could get that child away from me? I worked for months to bring him here. Do you really think I would allow anyone to just walk away with him?”
The guards stepped up to either side of Thirza, neither of them looking at him as if they did not want to meet his eyes.
Next Thirza and Matt were herded down the corridor, no doubt to see Grzegorz. Matt was stumbling next to Wiedzma. She held his jacket tightly and hauled him along, not caring that his little legs could not keep up.
Thirza berated himself mentally. Why had he waited so long? He felt the despair descend on him, thinking that he was nothing but an old fool.
When they entered his throne room, Grzegorz’s face was purple and his black eyes flashed. It was not like he trusted anyone anyway, but of everyone he had least suspected that Thirza would betray him. Wiedzma was a snake in disguise but she needed access to the child’s dreams and she wanted his kingdom, which she could not get without him, alive. This kept her by his side, right where he could watch her. But Thirza had free reign over his castle; he had been there for a long time.
“Why?” he demanded of Thirza. “It’s not like you have any attachment to this child, why would you risk eternity in the dungeon for this boy?”
Thirza lifted his head and stared at Grzegorz. He was not afraid for himself, he was afraid for the child. He had seen Grzegorz perform the most evil deeds during his reign and that was even before Wiedzma had come knocking at the gate. Together, they wreaked havoc, caused pain and suffering. And they laughed like children about their deeds.
“Your plan with this child is evil and all the children you will damage in the process, it cannot happen. It will not be allowed.”
The words were strong but they sounded empty and looking at the smirks on Wiedzma and Grzegorz’s faces, he knew they sounded weak to them too.
Thirza was devastated. He slumped over, held up by the two guards on either side. He had failed.
“We have limited time, Grzegorz,” Wiedzma muttered, pulling a small blue bottle out of her pocket. She walked over to Matt very casually. Like she didn’t have a care in the world, she spoke. “Matt, my darling.”
Matt’s eyes grew large. She was never nice to him. Now she was all cuddly. Eeeuuw.
“Matt, darling, I have something you need to drink, something that will, umm …” Her eyes went from left to right as she searched for the right words. “Help you see your mother,” she finished.
She pushed the bottle of potion into his hands. It looked just like the blue bottle he had hidden in his pocket.
“Drink up!” She smiled brightly, flashing her white teeth.
Grzegorz was looking at the guards. They stared oddly at him then quickly looked away when their eyes met. What were they staring at? Peering at them, his eyes narrowed. He lifted his crown off his head and turned it around in his hands. His mouth dropped open at the same time his stomach dropped to the floor.
The gems, his precious gems were gone. Blank empty holes stared at him where sparkling gems used to dazzle. He closed his eyes, opened them, and yes, they were still gone.
In a hoarse voice he whispered, “Where are my gems?”
No one answered. Everyone looked at each other and then stared resolutely at the floor, not daring to even breathe loudly in case they got noticed.
Grzegorz was battling to swallow, this crown was his symbol, his sign of power, it was all about him. He asked a little louder, almost pleasantly, “Where are my gems?”
He stopped in front of Matt who was staring, totally absorbed, at the bottle in his hands, holding it up to his eyes as he peered in, trying to see his mother.
“Where are my gems, Matt?” The king’s voice was dangerously soft.
Matt shifted his gaze from the bottle to meet Grzegorz’s eyes. “You mean the marbles? I played with them in the courtyard,” he said with a dimpled smile. He did not register the dangerous mood Grzegorz was in. He was excited that he was going to see his mother!
Grzegorz’s eyes widened before turning to slits. His precious diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies just rolling in the sand. His fury bubbled over as he leaned down into Matt’s face. His screaming was so intense that his spit sprayed into Matt startled face. “I do not want you to play with my marbles.”
He straightened and gasped. “Gems,” he hollered. “I mean gems.”
As Matt flinched at Grzegorz screaming directly in his face the bottle of potion slipped from his hands.
Matt watched in horror as the bottle tumbled to the floor. It was like it was falling in slow motion. He gasped as it hit the floor, expecting a splash of blue stuff. Somehow the bottle did not break, it just plopped onto the floor and rolled half under the velvet curtain against the wall.
“Oops.” Matt’s head shot up as he glanced at Wiedzma. She had not noticed the bottle rolling away. A quick glance around confirmed that no one else had noticed the bottle dropping either. Everyone was staring at Grzegorz, some with their mouths open.
Matt stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was not sure if he should rush and pick it up or tell Wiedzma about the bottle. Grzegorz was still shouting about the marbles.
“Now now, Grzegorz,” soothed Wiedzma. There was an obvious laugh in her voice. “He is just a child after all. Now stop wasting time about gems, or should I rather say, marbles.” She was taking great delight in throwing his words back into his face. She whirled back to Matt, making him jump.
“Drink your potion, Matt,” she barked. “Oh just give it here!”
Matt was so rattled that in a panic he grabbed the bottle of potion he had been touching in his pocket and pulled it out handing it over without even looking at it. He was so relieved when he saw that he had pulled out the blue bottle. But would she notice that it was not the same bottle?
“Nooo,” wailed Thirza, still standing imprisoned between the two guards. “Don’t drink it Matt, throw it down! Break the bottle Matt, don’t drink it!”
Wiedzma grabbed the potion from his trembling hands, pulled the cork and shoved it to Matt’s lips. “Drink,” she ordered.
Wiedzma grabbed Matt’s face, lifted his chin and tilted the bottle so that he had no choice but to drink.
She clicked her fingers and ordered that the sobbing Thirza be taken to the dungeon. The guards hauled the old man away. His fe
et dragged on the floor behind him, his head was hung low as the sound of his sobbing faded down the hall.
Grzegorz was still grinding his teeth together and muttering that he wanted his gems back before Matt went to sleep.
32
Matt felt butterflies flying around in his tummy. He sank to his knees. He felt like everything was going hazy around him.
A shadow fell over the castle, like the sun went behind a cloud. There was an earth-shattering roar, a thunderous noise that made even the air shake and wobble.
The castle foundations and walls sagged as a tremendous weight landed just outside in the courtyard.
Grzegorz came to stand next to Wiedzma, facing the doors. “What in Drakmere is that?”
Wiedzma did not reply. Perhaps she did not know, but whatever it was she felt confident she could and would deal with it.
Suddenly the doors flew open, off their hinges, landing with a crash against the walls on either side. There was another mighty roar that had everyone’s hair blowing back from the force of the wind. Curtains waved like flags, some of them tearing away. The guards cringed in fear as a huge dragon stood at the entrance.
The dragon was massive, with midnight blue scales that glistened and shimmered as he moved. His powerful body easily crumbled the walls at the broken door frames as he forced his way into the room. He roared; his gaping jaw was laced with massive white teeth row upon row. His muscular body was lined with pure white spikes running along the top of his back and down his magnificent tail, which was whipping back and forth, clearing anything in its path with mighty crashes.
There were two sharp spikes on the edge of the tail, and he was using them to gouge through the castle floor, dragging up stones and debris in rows. A thin line of blue fire blew from his nostrils in a steady stream, like a blow torch. His eyes were a steely blue that glared down at the people before him. No one escaped his gaze.
Jeff Madison and the Shimmers of Drakmere (Book 1) Page 14