Azrael's Twins

by V. J. Mortimer

  ‘You can let go now,’ said the rider of Grady’s dragon. Looking up Grady suddenly recognised the voice. The rider stripped off his visor and smiled back at Grady. ‘Uncle Garrett!’ said Grady, recognising the face.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Garrett. ‘They decided I wasn’t fit for anything else except this dragon patrol lark, so here I am. Did you like that time folding back there? Great way to make a quick trip, isn’t it!’ Before Grady could say another word though he was whipped off the back of the dragon by Merritt and rushed out of the courtyard through a side door. Murdock did the same with Niamh and followed seconds later. Once inside, the children could feel their parents relax and their pace slowed. A light suddenly flared in front of Merritt’s eyes. One of the messenger faeries wearing the bright blue livery of the castle had popped up about six inches from his nose, making him squint and go cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the tiny herald. ‘The king will see you in the Gryphon Room,’ it said in a voice that seemed much too loud for something so small.

  ‘Let’s hurry,’ said Merritt as they pressed on up the corridor. The journey to the Gryphon Room seemed to take almost as long as the trip from school to the castle. As they walked through the corridors the children noticed that none of the adults had put their wands away. They were still tense and nervous after what had happened in the school.

  ‘Dad,’ said Grady, ‘what was Uncle Garrett talking about when he said “time folding”? Is that why the sky looked strange when we were flying?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a rare skill – even among our family, and we’re especially gifted with magic. Normally it’s something only the elves can do. Did you notice the rest of the riders were all elves? Time folding is the best way of getting from place to place in a hurry. But it only works for the person doing the folding and whoever else is in contact – physical contact – with them. How your Uncle Garrett ended up with it is beyond me, but even the elves recognise there are none better at it in the kingdom.’

  Grady went quiet (an unusual state of affairs for him) as they made their way through a twisting turning passageway that took them steadily down until at last they came to a broad rock face. Into the wall had been carved two enormous stone doors – the children could tell they were doors only because there were handles stuck into the wall about halfway up and the faint outline of a symmetrical crack between them. They could see no sign of hinges or even the top or sides of the door until Murdock began chanting a low keening tune. A golden horizontal crack appeared on the rock face high above the children’s heads. It grew and grew, working across the wall and then down to the flagstoned floor until eventually the clear outline of a glowing golden door appeared. The doors began to swing inwards as the glow faded. The room inside was lit brightly with the glowing orbs used elsewhere in the castle but everything seemed oversize – large slabs where there should be chairs, tables which looked fit for giants and in one corner water trickled into a huge stone cistern before overflowing into a pipe which ran into the wall behind the cistern. One side of the room was dominated by a wide high tunnel which ran slightly downhill before appearing to open directly into the sky. The children realised they were looking out from the side of the mountain underneath the castle. The walls of the cave were decorated with carved pictures of fantastical creatures with the body and head of a lion, and the wings and talons of an eagle.

  ‘They are gryphons,’ said the king, standing up from behind one of the huge tables. ‘This was originally one of their lairs. Just like the dragons they found these mountains perfect for their hunting and as a place to take shelter from the winter storms.’

  ‘Where are they now?’ asked Grady.

  ‘No one knows,’ said the king, shrugging his shoulders. ‘The elves say they disappeared more or less overnight. One day they were here, the next nothing but empty lairs and memories. Some day they may turn up again but for now they’ve left us some very useful rooms in which to hide away from prying eyes. The vault under the library where the Twins are kept was one of their lairs, though no one has ever been able to find another tunnel leading out of it, which is extraordinarily odd. Every lair we know of has at least two ways out – every vault except for the one under the castle.’ The king walked calmly around to stand in front of the children and leaned back against one of the stone slabs. ‘Now, tell me about your day. It sounds like the two of you have been busy?’

  For the next hour the children spoke about meeting Balthasar, how he had appeared, how he spoke to them, about the banshees in the background, and about how he had seemed so friendly. They tried to explain how they had felt using their magic and what they had done to Reg and his gang, but struggled to find the right words. The king burst out laughing at the burnt pants story, his face dissolving into laughter-lined crinkles. For the most part though he listened quietly, thoughtfully, asking a question here and there about things which didn’t seem related but which obviously were of interest to him. While they talked, the faeries brought snacks and iced drinks for the children which they hoovered down in moments. Eventually they ran out of story and the king sat back, his hands in his lap as he stared off into the world behind his eyes. ‘Well, it seems to me he found out less about you than you did about him,’ he eventually said. ‘And it also seems he knows more about your talents than we thought he did. Clearly you both have some skills which, as long as you can learn how to use them correctly, should be most useful to you. Now, Merritt, Grace, can you take these two back upstairs, please? I am sure we have nothing else to fear today. Your blast of balefire will have sat Balthasar back on his haunches a bit so we can relax for a while, I think.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Niamh, suddenly looking concerned. ‘Did that blast not kill him?’

  ‘Oh no, my dear young thing!’ laughed the king. ‘If Balthasar saw it coming as he clearly did, then he would not have been caught by the blast. He could see it coming so you can be sure he would have vanished into the ether just before the spells hit him. But don’t worry;’ said the king brightly, ‘he will not bother us again for a while. Escaping from balefire is no mean feat. Even leaving the spot where you are doesn’t stop balefire from following after you. It is magical fire after all, so wherever he went the balefire will track him until it runs out of energy. And Balthasar will need to use up an awfully large amount of his own power to stay ahead of the balefire spell.’ Niamh glanced at Grady with a worried look in her eyes. She could see he was thinking the same thing – they weren’t safe yet!

  ‘For now, though,’ said the king, ‘you should go and have some time with Mum and Dad and gather your thoughts for tomorrow. You’ll have a long day with your detentions, so best go and relax while you can.’

  ‘Detentions!’ said Grady. ‘After what we’ve been through today?’

  ‘Well I’m sure it’s been a scary day for you,’ said the king, ‘but a detention is a detention, isn’t it, Ms Maladicta?’

  ‘Absolutely, Your Majesty,’ said the principal, with a smug smile as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose while giving the children a haughty stare seemingly practised by principals the world over. “They should have started their first detention today. But even I have to say their excuse this time is somewhat inventive, and, in this case, I would say justifies an exception.’

  ‘There’s just one thing you need to promise me,’ said the king.

  ‘Whatever you like,’ said Grady.

  ‘Your school friends will want to ask you questions about what happened in the corridor with Balthasar. It’s very important you don’t tell them anything.’

  ‘But that’s going to be a bit hard, isn’t it?’ asked Niamh. ‘Everyone knows something big happened and heaps of people saw us being flown away on those special dragons.’

  ‘Yes you’re right, Niamh, but you have to avoid their questions. The idea of Balthasar being in the school is very worrying for the children, let alone the parents. You must promise me.’

  ‘What should we say then?’ asked G
rady. ‘Should we make something up?’

  ‘No. That’s the last thing you want to do. The moment you start building a lie the quicker it will trip you up and make you look foolish. One of the biggest lessons you have to learn as a member of our family, a royal family don’t forget, is you have to be firm in the face of really tough questioning. Have you ever noticed how your parents are very good at not giving in – ever?’

  Niamh rolled her eyes at that comment. ‘Are they!’ she said. ‘It’s like talking to a brick wall sometimes!’ Niamh suddenly realised what she had said, her eyes bulging as she caught her mother’s mock evil stare.

  The king chuckled. ‘Well that’s exactly what you need to be like.’ Ms Maladicta coughed pointedly. Without missing a beat and with just a flicker of his eyes towards the principal the king continued – ‘except when Ms Maladicta tells you to do something, or any of your teachers, of course. Just tell them you don’t want to talk about it and change the subject.’

  ‘Well, I’ll try,’ said Niamh – ‘but I’m not sure Grady will be able to stop himself from blabbing,’ she said cheekily.

  ‘You’re the one who won’t be able to stop talking about it, Niamh!’ yelled Grady angrily at his sister.

  ‘No, you are,’ said Niamh, giving her brother a nudge with her elbow.

  ‘Okay, okay!’ said Grace quickly. ‘I can see where this is going and it stops now. Niamh, apologise to your brother and Grady, remember tomorrow that Niamh is probably right. So engage brain before opening mouth. Okay? Both of you?’

  A chorus of sullen ‘Yes Mum’ came from the children along with a totally unnecessary nudge from Niamh when her mother looked away.

  ‘Right then,’ said the king with finality. ‘Off you go.’

  The children turned and exited through the golden doorway as Grace turned to the king. ‘We’ll talk later?’

  ‘Of course. We have a lot to think about.’

  After the children and parents had left the cavern the king turned and stared towards the tunnel mouth. ‘What do you think?’ he seemed to say to no one in particular.

  ‘I think we’ve just had a breakthrough today,’ said Murdock. ‘The way they used their powers was really quite extraordinary – very instinctive – though I’m not sure they have much control over it yet. But what a difference a few days can make. I wouldn’t have thought they would have been able to weave those sorts of spells yet.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Ms Maladicta. ‘The spells they cast were totally instinctive. They showed clearly where their elemental powers are strongest – Niamh cast two wonderful air weaves and Grady’s fire spell was like nothing I’ve seen before – four bolts from one weave! Who would have thought he could do that. I know you are good, Murdock,’ said the principal to the elf, ‘but even you are hard pressed to use that much control.’

  ‘And what are your thoughts,’ said the king, turning to look at a blank space at the side of the cavern by the stone cistern. For just a moment the air shimmered and blurred as the space was suddenly filled by the huge hulking shape of Belimawr.

  ‘I think they are well on the path,’ said Bel. ‘It has been difficult watching them over the last few weeks and staying hidden. I have so wanted to be able to step in and talk to them, try to offer advice. But the tests we’ve allowed them to face have been critically important. And the reaction from Balthasar today shows just how big the breakthrough has been. If they had not shown such strength of power I doubt we would have drawn that sorcerer out. He has been very quiet since our arrival. He is feeling confident if he is happy to show himself within the school.’

  ‘Perhaps over confident,’ said Murdock. ‘We nearly had him today.’

  ‘Nearly never won the race though, did it Murdock,’ said the king. ‘What other news though, Bel? What news do you have of the dwarves? We know they have been linked to the deep, dark magic our friend Balthasar enjoys. Anything new?’

  ‘Curious intelligence but little we can confirm. They have continued to tunnel around some of their old grounds on the peninsula and recently there was a flurry of activity at the far end of the hills. There seems to be more of them around town and a great deal of digging but no one knows what they are searching for. There seems to be an object to their activity but we have not yet had anything which would suggest what it might be.’

  The king again seemed to turn inwards to consider the information. ‘I don’t trust them. They have already shown in the past they don’t trust us so any unusual activity now when Balthasar is trying to establish himself is not something we can ignore.’ Standing upright he took off his glasses to rub his eyes while he thought. ‘I must tell you all that I still don’t like this course of action we are taking with the children – much as I know we have little option. Deliberately exposing them to this type of ... experiment was not why we brought them back here. No one in the castle, outside of this group, knows what is bound in those children. If Balthasar has an inkling, even a smidgen of an idea of how important they are then the schemes of the dwarves, the goblins, the mountain trolls – none of those will make the slightest bit of difference.’

  ‘I know,’ said Bel quietly. ‘But the architect of the plans is fully agreed with our course. We have no other way forward and there is an end game to be played.’

  ‘My grandchildren are not a game, Bel,’ said the king tersely.

  ‘And I have no intention of playing by any rules,’ said Bel firmly. ‘I will keep them safe.’

  The king held Bel’s fiery gaze. There was no question each of them came from a royal line. Anyone caught between the stares would have been torched by the intensity of will being poured out from each. Eventually the king sighed and turned away.

  ‘Alright. Let’s call today a draw then. He has shown himself to the children for the first time. And the children are no worse off – if just a little scared. Let’s keep our eyes open for next time. He will be back.’

  The children managed, somehow, to get through the next tortuous day of school, though by the end of it were fed to the back teeth with questions. Questions about their battle with Reg’s gang (they received HUGE pats on the back for that), questions about the trip to the principal’s office (it turned out hardly anyone had EVER been to the top floor before – except for a girl named Nicola in Niamh’s class who apparently had been everywhere and whose parents knew everyone and who had two iWands at home and so on and so on. Niamh was surprised to learn that even in Avalon there were know-it-alls just like back home!), and above all, the questions about the battle in the corridor (that news had spread like wildfire, though as far as anyone knew there had been no one to witness it). Finally, blessedly, the bell for the end of the day rang.

  Niamh gave a sigh of relief as the bell sounded and quickly grabbed her bag and broomstick and bolted for the door. Her exit was abruptly halted by her teacher’s voice – ‘Going somewhere, Niamh?’

  Niamh gave a little groan as she remembered her detention. Her mother had reminded her that morning that they would pick her up later than usual so she could serve the first of her detentions with Emmy.

  ‘Sorry Ms Pussywillow. I forgot.’

  ‘Yes, understandable of course, but a detention is a detention.’ Gathering up her things Emmy swept past Niamh and through the door of the now empty classroom. ‘Follow me,’ said the teacher.

  ‘What will we be doing, Miss?’ asked Niamh as they trotted through the corridors of the school.

  ‘You’ll be helping me on the spell casting range, Niamh,’ said the teacher with a smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll find this very ... interesting. And if you have to have a detention there are worse ways of spending it, believe me.’

  Niamh had seen the older girls in the spell casting at training. The range was well down the fields, a good few minutes’ walk, so as they entered the courtyard Ms Pussywillow jumped onto her broomstick, dumping her books and other paraphernalia into a little basket which popped out of thin air just ahead of her seat. It made Niamh think of a g
rocer’s bicycle with a little cane basket in front of the handlebars just like the one at Johnson’s Grocers at home ... her old home, she had to remind herself.

  ‘Come on, Niamh,’ said Ms Pussywillow as she gracefully floated out across the fields towards the range. Niamh slung her bag onto her back and mounted her broom. She had been practising daily with her friends and found the movement of getting on almost second nature now. As she shot off across the grounds she felt that thrill of magic flowing through her. She thought she’d never get used to that amazing sensation. It took no time to catch up to Ms Pussywillow and as she did so she saw other broomsticks converging on the range. Some girls were already waiting and passing the time by flicking light spells back and forth to one another.

  ‘Good to see you warming up, girls,’ said Ms Pussywillow, jumping off her broom before it had even come to a stop. The eight girls who were waiting were all older than Niamh by at least three years. Niamh felt very small as she drew up alongside the group. All eyes turned from Ms Pussywillow to Niamh making her suddenly feel like a caged creature in the zoo. ‘Niamh is here to help out today everyone, so just ignore her and start your stretching please,’ said Ms Pussywillow, sensitively breaking the uncomfortable stares. The girls in the group gave Niamh one last glance before turning as a group and forming a circle where they started stretching shoulders and backs with arm circles and other stretches which looked familiar to Niamh from her Irish dancing classes. But other odd stretches were thrown in with spells being cast from wand to wand as the girls bent and swayed and limbered up.