Sinners of Magic (17 page)

‘
Let’s just
say I had the misfortune of staying as his unwanted guest for quite
some time,’ the warrior replied, touching his scar with his frozen
fingertips.

Tremlon’s face fell.

‘
We must find
Crystal and bring her back immediately,’ he said, realising
Arhdel’s words confirmed his worst fears. ‘If what you say is true
and we don’t succeed, then we will lose our realm to the Nonhawk
and live as slaves for generations to come.’

‘
We must
first speak with King Gamada,’ said Arhdel, rallying with
infuriating swiftness. ‘He will know what we must do.’

‘
Then to the
palace we go,’ said Tremlon, already throwing his drink into the
fire. ‘Phaphos!’ he shouted, his courage igniting. ‘We must leave
immediately.’

*

They rode like the wind, the
horses sensing their riders’ urgency and galloping with haste. Matt
sat on the back of Tremlon’s horse, his arms wrapped around the
elf’s waist and his fingers locked together in a tight grip. When
at last they arrived at the gates of Nine Winters, there was no
warm welcome. Instead, many warriors dressed in black and holding
long, pointed spears stood in line waiting to escort them to the
king. When the group of horses rode between them in a swirl of
sleet and snow, the soldiers rounded upon themselves, shoulder to
shoulder, to stop them from turning and making their escape.
Tremlon blanched, realising they were under arrest, and he
tightened his grip on the reins.

Matt was oblivious to their
dilemma and busy enjoying the scenery, finding the mountains
spectacular, and he called out to Tremlon to tell him his home
reminded him of Liechtenstein in Bavaria and that he almost
expected someone to pop out from the top of a mountain and start to
yodel.

Tremlon shook his head at the
boy’s ignorance and sighed.

‘
Where’s the
castle?’ Matt asked him, searching the horizon for a sign of a
battlement.

‘
There isn’t
one,’ Tremlon answered, sounding tiresome. ‘The king lives in a
palace, inside the mountain.’

They rode the rest of the way
in silence until they were urged by the guards to dismount.
Muttering and complaining Tremlon, Arhdel and Matt jumped down onto
firmer ground. The guards appeared cautious when they forced their
prisoners towards a wall of rock and once they could go no further,
it was Phaphos who outstretched his hand and touched the stone.
Matt was surprised to hear a low rumble from within the mountain
and whilst he watched in awe, a deep crack appeared within the
surface of the stone, then the rock crumbled away and a passageway
became exposed.

‘
Off you go,’
insisted one of the guards, pushing the tip of his spear in the
small of Tremlon’s back. ‘The king awaits your return.’

Tremlon almost snarled but took
a step inside instead and both Matt and Arhdel followed with
Phaphos somewhere behind them. Inside the rock was a labyrinth of
long, dark corridors and echoing passageways. Watery pools filled
with silvery liquid had produced a city of stalactites along the
roofline and the temperature was ice-cold. The small group
travelled deeper inside the mountain and large naked flames licked
at the rocks when the soldiers lit several sconces.

Eventually they approached what
looked like a large floating ball of purple mist which hovered over
a stone archway, blocking their path. Matt wanted to touch it, to
feel its soft consistency, but he knew better than to let his
curiosity get the better of him and it was Phaphos who once again
took charge. He stretched out his palm, allowing his fingers to
mingle inside the mist, and he stepped forward, pushing his hand
deeper inside, searching its core. The mist started to disintegrate
until it floated away in wisps of trailing vapours.

‘
What would
have happened if a mortal had touched it?’ Matt whispered in
Arhdel’s ear. The warrior couldn’t help chuckle.

‘
You would
have been vaporised and become part of the mist,’ he said, allowing
a tight smile to hover around the corners of his mouth.

‘
Go on
ahead,’ interrupted one of the guards, pointing to the entranceway
with his spear, ‘we can go no further, but you must enter at
once.’

Tremlon became agitated.

‘
I am sure we
can find our way,’ he snapped, taking a step inside and nodding for
Matt to follow. ‘It isn’t like I haven’t been here
before!’

The transformation once they
passed through the doorway was truly exceptional. The stone
corridors changed to columns of polished marble and the design was
smooth and incomparable. To their left, an arrangement of unique
gemstones lay on slabs of solid gold. The gems shone like polished
stars and the vibrant colours of fire opals and dragon’s breath
teased their sparkling eyes. Petrified raindrops dangled like
chandeliers from the ceilings and prisms of light dazzled them with
the colours of the rainbow.

‘
Wow!’ said
Matt, utterly mesmerised. He had never seen so many jewels before,
and black-and-white diamonds the size of plums were sat in bowls of
white crystal. His fingers reached out and brushed against a bunch
of red rubies, the gemstones sitting like fat berries waiting to be
plucked, and he cradled them in his hands, not wishing to put them
back.

‘
Put them
down!’ ordered a stuffy man who suddenly appeared from nowhere. He
wore a tall, silver-and-black pointed hat and a heavy robe
stretched with difficulty around his plump waist.

‘
Didn’t you
hear me!’ the voice boomed when Matt turned deaf. ‘Why, I’ll have
you skinned alive, boy, if you don’t do as I say
immediately!’

Matt bristled and reluctantly
let the rubies fall from his grasp. The Lord Chamberlain raised a
quizzical eyebrow at Tremlon and Arhdel, before waving a theatrical
hand and motioning for two large doors to open.

‘
The king is
awaiting your arrival in the throne room,’ he said, shooing them
along like lost sheep. ‘And it would be wise not to keep him
waiting.’

When Matt entered court, he
immediately spotted a few hostile stares from the elder courtiers
who made him feel rather uncomfortable and he moved closer to
Tremlon’s side. He noted their clothes were very different from his
own. The young women wore long, ceremonial dresses which clung
provocatively to their well-shaped bodies and Matt felt himself
gulp when he was unable to avert his eyes. The men wore clothes
that were just as regal and their eyes sought his when he passed
them by, their eagerness to see a real, live mortal written all
over their faces.

The usher made his way to
Matt’s side; he was a short, dumpy man with dark hair and equally
dark, liquid eyes. He gripped Matt’s arm with vice-like fingers and
pulled him out of sight along with Phaphos. Matt tried to protest,
but Tremlon shot him a look that made the words die in his throat
and so he watched Arhdel and Tremlon make their way to the king’s
throne instead.

‘
Well, well,
well, my most faithful servants have returned,’ said the king, when
they approached.

‘
Your
Majesty,’ Arhdel began.

‘
Silence, you
imbecile!’ roared Gamada, clearly infuriated. ‘Don’t you think I
already know how you have failed me?’ He stared in disgust at
Tremlon and Arhdel who had fallen to their knees, their heads bent
low in shame. Yet wasn’t it he who was truly at fault? Wasn’t it
because he had been so naive to believe Forusian would not have
known when Crystal entered their world?

He cursed himself for his own
stupidity, taking his vengeance out on his two most loyal subjects.
He had to think of a plan to get his granddaughter back or the
whole kingdom and his future as king could be in serious peril. He
took a moment to compose himself whilst both elves squirmed beneath
his feet. He placed his cold stare on the backs of their necks and
as he toyed with an idea that was starting to form behind his
hooded eyes, he became more pensive.

‘
Get to your
feet,’ he ordered, gesturing for the Lord Chamberlain to hurry to
his side, ‘for I have decided, there is much for you to
do.’

Ch
apter 8

Amadeus sat on the king’s
horse, looking down at the lush valley below. It had taken him
three days to reach the valley of Raven’s Rainbow and now he had
finally arrived he was filled with an unexpected sense of
foreboding.

Since an ancient law was broken
here many years ago, elves were no longer welcome and he felt his
shoulders knot with tension. His horse made its way down the steep
ravine and Amadeus held the reins tightly when the mud slipped from
the sides of the slope, causing his horse to stumble over loose
rocks and large sods of earth. He headed towards the river and the
horse broke its surface with an unexpected splash, and she whinnied
in dire protest when the icy water rose up to her belly.

Kicking his horse on, he urged
her through the freezing current until they reached the other side
of the bank and then he pushed on towards the cover of trees. He
needed to make it to the traveller’s rest before nightfall. He was
weary and wanted to be fresh when he finally came face-to-face with
the wizard, Bridgemear.

Unfamiliar noises filled the
bristling trees whilst Amadeus rode through the dense forest.
Tension tightened the muscles on his shoulders as taut as piano
strings and his eyes darted from side to side in his attempt to be
vigilant. A sudden movement caught his eye and he reached for his
sword, manipulating his horse to turn so that he could ensure no
one was planning to attack him from behind. He wished he hadn’t
come, wished the king had chosen someone else. He pushed his horse
on whilst the wind died and a gentle stillness settled around him.
The trees spoke to each other in secret whispers and calm settled
over the forest.

It was a few lonely hours later
when he broke through a set of trees and found himself in a less
dense area. He followed a track going east to Fortune’s End, where
he planned to rest for the night. It had grown dark, but he managed
to make out the minute hut which sat alone in a small clearing. He
dismounted his horse and immediately felt the presence of another,
but he was not afraid; this was neutral territory, even for elves.
He unfastened his saddle and the horse gave a snort of
appreciation.

Out of the shadows a small
gnarled figure came to greet him with a dented lantern held
securely in his hand. He had short legs and fat arms, his face was
drawn with many lines across it and his age had been forgotten long
ago. He wore only a shirt and a pair of trousers, but the evening
was strangely warm so there was no need for anything more.

‘
Welcome,
weary traveller, come in and rest the night,’ said the keeper,
gesturing for him to approach. Amadeus relaxed his shoulders and
pulled the bed roll off his mount. He was relieved to see that the
man he had sensed was not a wizard.

‘
That would
be very much appreciated,’ said Amadeus, walking towards him with a
smile.

‘
Come in,
come in,’ said the keeper, stepping aside to allow Amadeus to
enter. ‘There is no need of a fire tonight, but I have hot food.
Please, come and place your bed down whilst I pour you a drink to
wash the dust from your throat.’

The keeper placed the lantern
on a small pine table, the light sending gigantic shadows across
the walls. The room was sparse but clean and the keeper reached for
a goblet from a shelf, pouring a sparkling liquid into it from an
old, battered carafe.

‘
You speak
the words I have longed to hear,’ grinned Amadeus, when the keeper
offered him the goblet.

‘
I can tell
by your clothes you have travelled far. I will see to you first and
then I will see to your horse.’

‘
You are very
kind,’ said Amadeus, taking a gulp of his wine and finding it
refreshing.

‘
My name is
Nekton,’ said the dwarf, closing the door, ‘and as you may have
guessed, I am the keeper here.’ They shook hands and Amadeus
noticed the dwarf had a strong grip, a sign of
sincerity.

‘
The
washbasin is in the back,’ Nekton explained, releasing his grip.
‘You’ll find what you need to clean yourself there.’

Amadeus was soon washed and
changed, and he sat expectantly at the table. Nekton was as good as
his word and presented him with a hearty meal.

‘
Oh, I love
feefalas cooked this way,’ said Amadeus, when he saw what he’d
prepared. The meat had been cooked in rich, dark gravy seasoned
with black pepper and garlic, and was accompanied by fresh
vegetables and a mountain of potatoes.

‘
This reminds
me,’ Amadeus continued, when his mouth stopped watering, ‘of when I
was a boy and my mother used to cook for me and my brothers.’ The
memory of his childhood flashed before his eyes; they had been good
times.

‘
Dig in my
friend, whilst I attend to your horse. I am sure she is just as
hungry, but definitely not as thirsty as you,’ Nekton chuckled as
he watched Amadeus fill his goblet for the third time.

It was black as pitch when
Nekton ventured outside to see to the horse. There were no stables
as such and the only shelter for the horse was at the side of the
hut. The horse was tethered to a ring nailed to the outer wall, and
she snorted her appreciation when she saw the dwarf approaching
with a bundle of hay and a bucket of oats.

‘
Easy, girl,
I guess you want your supper too?’ he said, placing the food in
front of her. He patted her gently on her rump whilst she ate. She
whinnied unexpectedly, scraping her hoof in the dirt, and Nekton
gave a puzzled expression.