by Gavin Neale
Pedir’s thoughts sounded excited rather than nervous. He let go of Abby’s hand and they set off through the tents once more. Ahead she could see some huge tents that looked like a marquee for a wedding party, only several of them were made of a black canvas that seemed to shimmer in the dull air. It quickly became apparent that this was where they were headed and Abby started to feel nervous.
Despite all the danger around them, Abby trusted Pedir to get them safely through the camp. She was not sure that Thomas would come with them, though. It was stupid really; he had been kidnapped but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to cause a scene. Her stomach was a knot of nerves.
The closer they got to the black tents the more guards there seemed to be, yet somehow Pedir picked a path through them without getting discovered. Every now and again Abby had to wait for what seemed like forever whilst Pedir disappeared but she always felt where he was and soon he was back to lead her on once more.
They hunkered down at the edge of a clear space that surrounded the entrance to the group of large black tents. Abbey wanted to ask what they would do next but she dare not when they were this deep into the Ruined’s camp. Thankfully Pedir took hold of her arm and she could hear his thoughts again.
‘These are the king’s private quarters. There should be fewer guards once you are inside the tent. If you are very careful, you can walk straight past them and they won’t notice you. I’ll use some subtle magic to help and meet you on the other side. If you can, find Thomas and talk to him. I will be with you as quickly as I can.’
Abby tried to think as quietly as possible. ‘Are you sure?’
‘No, but it is the best plan we have. If the king is holding him, either as prisoner or guest, he will be in these tents.’
Abby didn’t wait for an answer; she trusted Pedir as much as Chris, Daphne or Nora. She stood up, held her breath and started to walk slowly towards the guards who were on either side of the entrance to the great black tents. The first steps were the hardest; she was sure that the guards would spot her. It was only through feeling the connection to Pedir from her talisman that she was brave enough to continue.
When the guards paid her no attention, she let out her breath and continued to creep cautiously forward. It was bizarre; the guards continued to ignore what was right in front of them. Soon she was close enough to reach out and touch them; she knew that one misstep or mistake would lead to her capture and result in failure.
There was a strangely vacant expression on the guards’ faces as they stared into the distance behind her and Abby guessed that this was Pedir’s work. As she shuffled between the strange pale elves she held her breath – she was terrified of them hearing her at such close range.
Abby crept into the king’s tent. As she passed into the shadows, she felt a sharp pain and fell to her knees. Somehow she kept quiet but she realised that something was stopping the magic Pedir had been using to help her. Despite a deep ache in her muscles, she half crawled, half crept round the corner to settle into a dark corner out of view of the tent doorway so she could catch her breath.
22
We’re Here to Rescue You
Abby sat for a few minutes, steadying her breathing as she got used to the pain and her surroundings. The tents were tall. There were rich carpets laid upon the floor but they were covered in dried mud. If she listened carefully, she could hear a series of dull thuds.
She moved through the king’s quarters towards the noise, terrified that at any moment she would blunder into a servant – or worse. She was lucky; it seemed that with the king gone, this part of his quarters was deserted except for whoever was making the thumping noise.
Abby finally entered yet another of the interconnected tents and saw an opening into the outside world and the first patch of grass she had seen since entering the camp. She crept up to the doorway and looked out. Thomas was on the grass, on his own. He was standing in front of a wooden pole, which he was striking repeatedly with a wooden sword, clearly practising basic cuts. After a quick look around her, Abby removed her hood. The pain she was feeling immediately increased. She gritted her teeth and walked out to meet her neighbour.
Thomas didn’t see Abby until she was nearly next to him – and then he glared at her. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily.
‘I’m here to take you home, Tom. Your mother will be worried sick about you.’
‘Don’t want to go. I’m learning how to use a sword. I like it here.’ With this, he turned back to his target and started practising strikes again.
‘You don’t care how your mum feels? Even if you do like it here, it is not your home.’ Abby was worried; she had not seen this look on Thomas’s face before. She knew he was stubborn but was he even listening to her? ‘It’s not safe here.’
‘Safety is for the weak.’ Each word was punctuated with another blow. Abby had to fight down the desire to snatch the sword and beat him round the head with it.
‘Where did you get that from?’ she asked.
‘The king told me I will be a great warrior.’ Thomas turned to face Abby and held up his sword. ‘I’ll soon be able to beat you.’
‘There’s no time for this. I need to get you home.’
‘I’m not coming. You can’t make me. Guards!’
Abby’s mouth fell open in shock. Before she could do anything, a pale elf with long, red, braided hair sauntered out of the tent, his hand resting on the hilt of his long sword.
***
Pedir had felt his magic dissipate across the surface of the tent when Abby stepped inside. He cursed the dwarf who had sold or given up their secrets to the Ruined, for who else could have woven metal into the fabric of the tent in a manner so that virtually all spells would disperse into the void between worlds?
He could still feel Abby, thanks to her talisman, and guessed she was hiding somewhere to recover. At least he was no longer carrying the pain of Abby’s magical injuries but Pedir hoped she was strong enough to continue. He sprang to his feet and, whilst weaving concealment spells with his fingers, made a quick circuit of the king’s quarters. There was no way through the magical barriers without instant discovery.
He was looking at the guards, wondering how he could get past them, when he heard the distant cry. ‘Guards!’
Pedir located Abby and reached out with his magical senses. He could not step across to her through the spells that protected the king’s quarters so he would have to take the direct route.
He sprinted out from between the tents as one guard turned to investigate the cry. It was a testament to elven reflexes that the outward-facing guard managed to half draw his sword before Pedir reached him. With a blow of his staff, Pedir knocked the ill-prepared guard to the floor.
Pedir didn’t stop to look at what happened to the guard who had let out a warning cry. Inside the tent, a second guard turned to see what the commotion was and was surprised to see a stranger running towards him. This guard drew his sword but Pedir dropped to one knee and speared him with his staff, using his momentum to add power to the thrust that drove the air from the guard’s lungs.
Pedir was back up and following in Abby’s footsteps before the Ruined elf fell to the floor.
***
‘So we have another human child – but this one is dressed in an Elven travelling cloak,’ said the guard who had answered Thomas’s call. ‘Tell me, are the girls of your world any better trained than this boy?’
‘Often better,’ replied Abby, gritting her teeth. She knew Pedir was coming; all she had to do was hold out until he arrived. The elf in front of her looked at her like he couldn’t wait to cut her into pieces.
‘If it was up to me, I’d make the two of you fight to the death but his Malevolence has left strict instructions regarding the boy’s health. You, on the other hand, are a different matter.’ The st
ranger pointed at the rack of practice swords behind Abby. ‘Let’s see how good you are.’
‘I didn’t come here to fight.’ Abby had to work really hard to stop her voice shaking.
‘Perhaps not, but a fight is what you will have.’
Abby backed away towards the rack of swords. After a quick look, she picked up a metal practice sword that looked about the same length as the one she had selected for Einion. She held it up and knew straight away that the balance was not what she wanted, but it would have to do. If nothing else, she felt better for a having a solid lump of metal in her hands. Thomas had backed away to one side; it was clear that he was going to offer no help.
‘Very good,’ the guard said. ‘You can hold a sword properly.’ He strolled forward casually as if he were about to shake Abby’s hand. She stood her ground, pulling herself up as the stranger approached. He didn’t even break stride but stepped into a huge downward stroke that was clearly meant to split Abby down the middle. Abby stepped back and raised her hands, instinctively going into the movements of the first kendo kata. Then she stepped forward into a fast strike to the elf’s head.
‘Men!’ It wasn’t the cleanest of strikes but the elf was not wearing a helmet. Abby doubted her sensei would have scored it – but the elf went down under the blow.
‘Abby,’ Pedir called, appearing in the tent’s entrance. As he did so, a bell began to toll in the distance. Pedir guessed that the guards he had met had raised the alarm.
Abby’s strike had hurt the elf guard. Blood was pouring from a nasty-looking cut on his head but, as it was from a training sword, the blow was not fatal and the guard was already trying to get to his feet. Abby ran in a wide arc round him and headed straight for Thomas, who looked shocked and pale.
Pedir saw what Abby’s plan was and moved towards Thomas, offering his hand to the boy. ‘My name is Pedir. I have come here with Abby to rescue you.’
Thomas looked up at Pedir. The tall, dark elf towered over him; he looked shabby in his worn travelling clothes compared to the fallen guard. ‘I don’t need rescuing. I already told Abby that.’ He brought up his wooden sword and stepped away from Pedir.
‘Come on, Thomas, this isn’t funny.’ Abby was panting and looking nervously behind her. The Ruined guard was on his feet and smiling broadly as he tasted the blood that covered his face.
An arrow came whistling past them. Pedir seemed unconcerned but Abby turned to see another elf in the entrance to the tent, languidly reloading his crossbow.
Pedir spun his staff in both hands and struck out with one end, forcing Thomas to parry hurriedly. Then Pedir swiftly hit Thomas on his sword hand, forcing him to drop his weapon. With a flourish, Pedir swung his staff so its end rested on Thomas’s shoulder and pressed up against his neck. The staff started to glow at the end that was touching the boy and writing lit up along the length of it. Abby didn’t understand the strange markings and the writing quickly faded.
Another crossbow bolt went flying past them. Pedir turned, grabbed Abby’s hand and stepped into another world. The Ruined guard howled in frustration as his sword sailed through the space where the two intruders had been standing.
‘Thomas. We’ve got to go back for him.’ Abby could only say this when they had reappeared in another world. Without replying Pedir stepped out of this new world to another.
‘We had to make sure no one could follow us,’ Pedir said, as he let Abby rest.
‘Thomas…’ cried Abby as Pedir released her hand.
‘I couldn’t take him with us. He didn’t want to come voluntarily and he’s bound to the court of the malevolent king. There was nothing we could do.’
Abby could feel the overwhelming sadness in Pedir’s words. The bond between them suddenly felt very close, as if they had direct access to each other’s brains. Abby began to panic. The longer she stood there the more she could feel, and the pain returned, stronger than before. ‘Pedir?’
Pedir looked startled for a moment, and then collected himself. Stepping forward, he whispered magic words to himself as he took Abby’s hand again. ‘I’m sorry, I got distracted by what you are feeling, I should know better.’
Like it had in the Land of Fairy when Pedir had first helped her, Abby’s pain receded and the whispering disappeared. ‘What is going on?’ she asked.
‘The tree spirit, the one who took your magic before you could save your mother. He was not gentle and he did not take everything. You have some shreds of your talent left and they have never healed. I did not know you were injured until we stepped into the Land of Fairy. It is not safe for you to be in contact with wild magic at the moment.’
‘I’m injured?’ asked Abby, her heart beating faster and faster. ‘Where am I?’
‘My home,’ replied Pedir. He felt Abby’s panic increase. His ability to shield her was slipping. ‘Abby, I will get you help but you have to trust me. There is an elf I know who will know how to heal you. May I take you to her?’
‘Please,’ gasped Abby as she fought for breath. Her heart felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest. She wanted to ask more questions but couldn’t get the words out as she fought for air.
‘Sleep, Abby.’ Pedir caught the young human as she fell. He was sad that he had to place an enchantment upon her but there was no other way.
23
The End of Diplomacy
Whilst Pedir and Abby were trying to rescue Thomas, the Malevolent King Richtus and his two courtiers Morgill and Actaea stood across from the Guardians and their fairy guide and listened to the warning bell toll.
‘Your Malevolence?’ Actaea sounded hesitant. She was unsure of what her king had planned. All she wanted to do was kill the witch who had defied her and somehow broken her favourite crossbow.
‘So is this all some big distraction so you can invade my camp and kidnap one of my loyal subjects?’ King Richtus looked steadily at a point above Nora’s head, seeming to dare the old witch to answer. He was very careful not to make eye contact.
‘Why do you think that we would do something like that?’ Nora asked.
‘It’s what I would do.’ The king seemed to be the calmest of the elves. His two companions were noticeably agitated by the constant pealing of the bells in the distance.
‘Ah, yes. But we care about those in service to the council whereas you would disown any members of your court foolish enough to get themselves kidnapped. Unless, that is, you found their situation useful to further your own cause.’ Nora waited for King Richtus to reply.
‘Very good.’ The malevolent king burst into laughter. ‘You may be a worthy adversary after all. The boy is bound to my court. Any action against him will be seen as a direct action against me and I will respond accordingly.’
‘I refute that completely,’ Nora said. ‘But we are not in the habit of dragging children off to different worlds against their will.’
Daphne kept silent throughout this exchange; she was extremely worried about what Pedir and Abby had walked into. She dared not reach out to look for them with the Ruined so close so she tried to remain patient and ready for the fight that seemed inevitable.
‘I had better get back to camp and see what you have been up to. I look forward to seeing you again, since we do not intend to leave any time soon. Have a good day.’ The king raised his hand in farewell. As he lowered it, a stream of red light sprang from his index finger and shot out towards Nora. The old witch waved her arm dismissively and the light faded. For the first time, the king actually looked impressed.
His two companions leapt forward to attack. Actaea rushed furiously towards Nora, intent on revenge, but Harmonia intercepted her. They were soon fighting savagely, with Actaea’s two swords always frustrated by Harmonia’s single blade.
Morgill strolled towards Einion, drawing a wicked-looking long sword. As he approached striking distance, he paused and savoured the moment
Einion’s expression remained neutral as Morgill approached. He unclipped a large hammer from his belt and hefted it in his left hand; his battle axe slid easily into his right. When Morgill swung his sword, Einion swiped at it with his hammer, making a solid connection that easily turned away the sword. Morgill looked surprised, as if he had either expected the old dwarf to miss or have his hammer sliced in two.
Einion had a worrying thought as Morgill pivoted and turned towards Harmonia. He barely had time to shout a warning. ‘A heavy blade!’ he cried, hurling his hammer at Actaea and rushing with surprising speed after Morgill.
The hammer caught Actaea on her left shoulder and she cried out as the blade in her left hand fell to the floor. Harmonia took the moment of distraction to kick her in the knee, sending Actaea to the floor. Then she turned and met Morgill’s first blow with her sword. To her horror, Morgill’s blade cut straight through her sword and she had to fly upwards to avoid it slicing into her body. She wouldn’t have escaped but, alerted by Einion’s cry, Daphne used a shield charm to thicken the air in front of Morgill so his sword didn’t quite reach the retreating Harmonia.
Nora was keeping the malevolent king busy but he was very powerful. Daphne was helping her, so she couldn’t keep all her attention on Morgill and Harmonia’s battle. Seeing that Einion was entering the fray again, she turned back to Nora and the magic that surrounded them.
Einion saw Actaea crumple to his right. He focused on Morgill and let out a fearsome battle cry, stopping Morgill from snarling at Harmonia who was floating well out of reach. Morgill turned and met Einion’s axe blow with his sword but, given the low height from which the dwarf’s blow started, Morgill still had to leap back as he disengaged so the momentum didn’t allow the dwarf a follow-up strike.
Einion stepped back, drew a rune-carved token out of a pouch attached to his belt and hurled it at Morgill’s feet. It was an ugly, left-handed throw but it didn’t need to be accurate. Those with magical abilities often dress up their magic in show and spectacle but dwarves have no time for such tricks. All that happened was that any magic surrounding the token, including the spells that Morgill was using, was sucked away and sent into the void between worlds.