Sinners of Magic (16 page)

She washed and changed and
after what seemed like hours later, the sound of her door being
unlocked brought her attention back to Forusian. The guard was
waiting for her when she found the courage to open it and he told
her briskly that King Forusian requested her attendance at
dinner.

She stood in the doorway
wearing a pale blue dress, shaped like a sari but with a fuller
skirt. Her necklace shone deep purple around her tender throat,
showing her despair.

‘
This way,’
the Nonhawk soldier barked, pointing his sword down the
corridor.

Crystal felt her spine
stiffen.

‘
Whatever you
say,’ she barked back. ‘It’s not like I have a choice is
it!’

When she entered the dining
room, Forusian was sitting at the head of the table.

‘
So glad you
could make it,’ he said in amusement. ‘Please, come, take a
seat.’

The guard pulled out a chair
and Crystal sat down. A troll came to her side and poured sparkling
wine into her goblet; once filled, he bowed before the king and
left. King Forusian rang a small, silver bell and two more trolls
appeared, this time with large, silver platters perched high above
their heads. They placed them on the table and a wonderful aroma
filled the air.

‘
Tuck in,’
said the king, waving his hand in the air. ‘I’m sure you must be
hungry and I can’t have you wasting away.’

Forusian reached out and
grabbed a large drumstick; he took a bite, pulling the white flesh
from the bone with his strong, perfect teeth.

‘
I do hope
you’re not one of those fussy vegetarians,’ he said, with his mouth
full, ‘but if you are, I can always get you something else to
try.’

Crystal pushed her plate
away.

‘
I’m not
hungry,’ she said lowering her lashes. ‘I just want to go
home.’

‘
You can’t go
home,’ Forusian spat, his eyes turning cold and he threw the
drumstick onto his plate, having suddenly lost his
appetite.

‘
But I don’t
understand why I’m here; what
do
you want with me?’ Crystal argued. Forusian
reached for the silky material which served as a napkin. He wiped
his mouth several times before he spoke.

‘
So, you wish
for me to cut to the chase and tell you why you’re
here?’

‘
Well, I
didn’t think it was just to show me your damn castle,’ she snapped,
feeling her anger rising.

‘
True,’ he
said, turning serious. ‘However, it is really important to me to
make sure we have a good relationship during your stay.’

‘
What do you
mean?’ she asked, in dismay, ‘how could we possibly be friends
after you kidnapped me?’ Forusian wiped his fingers one by one and
then threw away the silken cloth.

‘
Well, let’s
just say having you here with me will help me in more ways than one
and I would like us to be friends.’

‘
You’re
talking in riddles,’ she replied, frustration filling her
voice.

‘
I’m sure it
will all become apparent to you in time,’ he said, wagging a firm
finger, ‘something I feel you will have plenty of whilst being my
guest.’

‘
I am not
your guest,’ she boomed at him. ‘I am your prisoner.’ Forusian
shifted uncomfortably in his seat; it was clear he wasn’t used to
being spoken to in this manner. Once again, he gestured to her to
eat, preferring to ignore her sudden outburst.

‘
Don’t
worry,’ he told her, picking up his goblet and taking a large gulp
of wine. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that if I have my way, we will
become closer than you ever thought possible.’

Crystal looked exasperated and
a deep chill seeped into her bones. How could he even think they
could be friends, but more importantly, why would he ever want them
to be?

Chapter
7

Matt and Tremlon entered the
elf kingdom in disgrace. When the wagon did not appear at the gates
at dusk, Phaphos had been ordered by the king to send out a small
search party. The snow lay thick upon the ground, but the blizzard
had long since passed. It took much time to cross the frozen lands,
and the bitter wind and freezing conditions hindered their task,
but eventually the remains of the wagon stood on the horizon, the
frozen carcasses of the horses lying like ice statues where they
fell.

‘
Build a
fire!’ shouted Phaphos, urging his men to do the task quickly.
‘Then bring any bodies you can find towards the flames.’ They found
three bodies close by; the first was beyond anyone’s help. The dead
warrior’s blood had run like an icy river, changing the pure white
snow to a deep, dark crimson. He lay face down, his throat cut from
ear to ear, and what blood was left inside his body was frozen in
his veins for all eternity.

The search party stared in
disbelief. The scene before them was nothing more than savagery.
Dragging the second body to the fireside, Phaphos helped strip the
soft pelt from Tremlon’s stiffened body and began to pinch the
unconscious elf’s ears and nose before slapping his face. The fire
soon took hold and huge crackles rippled through the darkness as
the flames licked towards the stars. The golden glow flickered
whilst the wind blew, forcing dark shapes to dance upon his pale
skin. Tremlon’s eyelids fluttered, then a moment passed and his
body suppressed a groan and he opened his eyes. He stared at
Phaphos without really seeing him at all; disorientated, he blinked
at an alarming rate before bolting upright in panic, unable to
grasp his bearings.

‘
Be calm,
you’re safe,’ exclaimed Phaphos, grabbing his hands in restraint.
‘It is I, Phaphos; don’t be afraid and tell me, who did this?’ With
trembling limbs Tremlon fought to get to his feet, pushing Phaphos
aside. Worry clouded his judgement when cold comprehension shot to
the surface of his mind. He stumbled, losing his footing, and he
grappled in the snow, desperate to reach the place where Matt was
lying, cold and still. He crawled on his hands and knees, his
breathing laboured for he was weak from the attack, and his
incompetence at protecting the boy rang loud and clear inside his
brain. He reached out and brushed the snow off Matt’s back and then
turned him over. The boy’s limbs fell with a sickening ‘thud’ onto
the bed of soft snow and Tremlon blanched when he realised they
were probably too late to save him.

‘
Phaphos,
over here!’ he yelled, pulling at the boy’s ears and nose with no
effect.

‘
Is he
mortal?’ asked Phaphos, dropping to his knees and examining the
boy’s body, ‘because pinching his ears won’t do any good if he’s
not one of us; you need to warm him and give his lungs
air.’

A soldier threw more wood on
the fire and it roared into life. Tremlon covered Matt with thick
blankets brought by the soldiers and he checked his vital signs to
find they weren’t good. His pulse was weak and his pupils dilated,
but he was alive.

He dragged Matt’s body closer
to the fire, placing him as close to the flames as possible. The
bonfire crackled and hissed, spitting heat towards his frozen body
and, eventually, Matt’s cheeks turned pink and his skin was warm to
the touch, then he opened his eyes. Tremlon, although not a
sentimental elf, cupped his hand around Matt’s head and pulled him
close; he would always be eternally thankful the boy had not died
whilst in his care. Once satisfied Matt was out of danger, Tremlon
called to one of the elves, asking for something hot for Matt to
drink, which Matt readily accepted, and as the warmth seeped down
to his belly Matt’s thoughts drifted back to his last memory before
his brain had shut down, like someone flicking a switch off inside
his head.

It had been so difficult to
know what to do when Crystal was taken. The kidnappers had knocked
Tremlon out with one too many blows to the head and killed the
warrior without mercy. Matt had known fear before, but in a
different world and in a different place. Here, he was out of his
depth and he could never win against those who were deemed to be
mystical beings. His eyes misted over and he shivered
involuntarily. He realised what a fool he’d been to accompany
Crystal to this place. He had not fled on a horse, which perhaps a
wiser man would have done. Instead, he’d fought with the bitter
wind to cover Tremlon’s motionless body with the dead warrior’s
coat, searching for anything that might prove useful in saving the
shape-changer’s life. He’d no idea how far he was from the Kingdom
of Nine Winters, so he’d sat and waited to be rescued, alone and
vulnerable, until his blood turned to ice.

A shout rang out and two of the
search party were seen dragging Arhdel’s body towards the fire.
They had found him lying only a few yards away with the young
warrior by his side. The deep snow, which acted like a blanket, had
saved both their lives. The soldier revived Arhdel from his icy
slumber, warm rugs were flung around his shoulders and a mug of
something hot and sweet shoved into his trembling hands. The
warrior’s attention was fixed on the flames which danced and licked
the air until Tremlon moved to his side whilst Matt was drifting in
an out of consciousness.

‘
Who did this
to us?’ Tremlon asked, sitting beside him and warming his numb
fingers.

‘
Nonhawk, it
was Nonhawk.’

‘
Do you have
proof?’

‘
I don’t need
any, I know how they work.’

‘
Arhdel,
they’ve taken the girl.’

‘
Then they
have probably taken her to their king.’

‘
Why, what
would he want with her?’

Arhdel shrugged his shoulders,
making it clear he didn’t know.

‘
Getting her
back is not going to be easy,’ he said, instead. ‘King Forusian is
a very powerful king; he has a considerable-sized army and his
magical powers are supreme within the Nonhawk.’

‘
What do you
know of the Nonhawk?’ asked Tremlon, trying to keep calm. Arhdel
chose his words carefully before continuing.

‘
As you may
be aware they are a mixed breed; they are impure, once created
between goblin and elf. However, their leader, King Forusian, is
not of their blood. He was once an Oakwood wizard banished for his
crimes against his realm and sent to a life of exile. It was
written many centuries ago by the wise men of our time that no
future races should ever be mixed again because of what it
produced. The Nonhawk became an evil breed; goblins came from the
dark side of magic and the elves from the light. Mixed together
like fire and oil they made a deadly concoction.

‘
Legend has
it that when our world was created, having been split from the
ordinary world, the Nonhawk decided they would take over the
ordinary world and rule it, and when the two worlds separated, the
Nonhawk jumped from our world to the next. Thankfully, they jumped
a fraction of a second too late and the divide had already taken
place. They fell in-between the two worlds and saw only darkness,
where they lived for many centuries. The ordinary world would not
forgive them for their betrayal and decreed a law banishing them
from ever entering their world again. The extraordinary world, for
some reason perhaps known only to a few, took pity on the Nonhawk
and allowed them access back into our world on two conditions: that
they use magic only in their own territory and never try to rule
another realm again. They were given a kingdom of their own, but in
actual fact they were cast out.’

Arhdel placed his empty mug
in-between his feet and pulled the rug tighter around his shoulders
to keep out the chill which threatened to return.

‘
I am
starting to have terrible feelings about all this,’ he continued,
his voice flat. ‘I just know in my bones this is all Forusian’s
doing. He is ruthless and has never tried to hide his perverse
desire to take over the extraordinary world and become the ruler of
all. Now Crystal has somehow become ensnared whilst he conspires
against us; I’m afraid she may somehow hold the key to Forusian’s
future plans.’

‘
How will we
get to her?’ asked Tremlon, his voice betraying his jangled senses.
‘What do you know of his castle?’

‘
Unfortunately, a great deal,’ Arhdel answered. ‘I know you
can only access the castle by crossing two bridges over the outer
moat and entering through the main gatehouse on the eastern
side.’

‘
Can’t we
attack from the sea?’

‘
No, that
would be futile. We would have to approach by land, however, the
castle has a twin-towered gateway barring unwanted access and it’s
the only way in.’

‘
Okay, so say
we somehow manage to get inside, what do you know of the
layout?’

‘
Well, I know
the castle has two imposing turrets which house the prisoners and
the soldiers. One of the turrets leads to the cliff face and the
other is where the portcullis mechanism is kept and where Forusian
tortures his victims and gains access to the murder
holes.’

Tremlon heard himself gulp.

‘
So, what
will he do with Crystal?’

‘
I have no
idea; however, I feel he will want to keep her safe if she is
valuable to him.’

‘
Do you know
where his private chambers are?’

‘
No, but that
wouldn’t be difficult to find out.’

‘
How come you
know so much about him?’ asked Tremlon, eyeing the soldier
warily.