Sinners of Magic (19 page)

‘
Bring him to
me,’ said Sawbones with a new urgency to his voice. ‘We have little
time to spare.’ The two stretcher-bearers gave a deep bow before
proceeding to the table. With gentle hands for such strong elves,
they placed the shape-changer onto the cold slab. Matt was
surprised to see the shape-changer didn’t awaken when his body
touched the cold limestone or cry out with shock; instead, he lay
perfectly still. Sawbones began the ritual by placing Tremlon’s
hands palms down upon his chest and then sprinkled a handful of
what looked to Matt like some sort of blue powder over his abdomen.
A deep groan slipped from Sawbones’s lips and he waved a shaking
hand over the whole of Tremlon’s body.

Candles in many different
shapes and sizes adorned the cracks and crevices of the catacomb,
creating an aura of artificial brightness all around them, but a
sudden gust of wind blew down from the abyss above, causing the
candles to flicker and all but a few were extinguished. The healer,
clearly unfazed by the strong blast of air and consuming darkness,
continued to chant. Then the strange powder changed colour, glowing
silver like the moon, and a ghostly apparition materialised before
their eyes. The figure shimmered, illuminated by the bright glow
until the light faded away to reveal an old crone. Matt thought her
appearance was completely unnerving. She was nothing less than
grotesque, and her wizened and gnarled body shot painful messages
of unbearable ugliness to anyone who had the misfortune to place
their gaze upon her. Her face, pockmarked and red-veined, showed
years of neglect. Bony hands tapered to scrawny fingers, with long,
blackened fingernails displaying razor-sharp points, which could
evidently be used as instruments of destruction if she so
desired.

The guardian stood by Tremlon’s
feet whilst she waited for the healer to acknowledge her and, once
he had done so, she took a step forward to take a better look at
the sick elf.

‘
Who is this
creature?’ she hissed, her voice hoarse with age.

The healer cleared his throat;
he had great respect for the guardian, but feared her sometimes
volatile behaviour.

‘
His name is
Tremlon; he is a shape-changer and he is extremely ill.’

‘
And what do
you expect from me?’ she asked, whilst a cunning smile played along
her purple lips.

‘
We ask for
you to use your magnificent powers to heal him,’ he responded with
a bow.

‘
And what
will I get for me efforts?’ she asked, with a shrewd glint in her
eye. Sawbones smiled, already one step ahead of her.

‘
I have
brought you a gift in return for the favour we ask of you.’ The old
crone shot him a look of interest. ‘Show me your gift!’ Vanishing
behind the altar, he reappeared with a crisp white cloth held in
the palm of his hand. He peeled away the corners to reveal a small,
perfectly formed butterfly. The colours and size Matt could not see
from where he stood, but the hag sucked in a gasp of sheer delight.
She was known to desire living creatures, fascinated with their
beauty, craving vibrant colours from outside her world which
consisted only of misery and semi-darkness.

‘
What do you
say, guardian? Is it worth the trade?’

‘
Oh yes, yes,
definitely yes,’ she said with obvious glee. ‘I have always wanted
one of those; why, just look at the fine, elegant structure of the
wings.’ Her eyes became hard. ‘Can I have it now?’

‘
No!’ said
Sawbones, withdrawing his hand. ‘Do we have a deal or
not?’

‘
Very well,’
she sniffed, ‘I will see what I can do.’ She turned her attention
to the motionless body lying before her.

‘
He’s close
to death,’ she told the healer, her voice flat. She watched his
face tighten like a clenched fist. ‘I will not make any guarantees
to save this elf. The decision will rest upon the effect of the
poison when it reaches his heart.’ Matt, who had been silent up to
that moment, took a step forward and challenged the
guardian.

‘
You can’t
use poison on him or you’ll kill him!’ he roared in
panic.

The crone spun round on her
heels with startling speed and faced him, her mouth twisted in a
bitter grimace.

‘
And what do
you know of my ways?’ she spat, causing droplets of saliva to be
sprayed from her mouth into the atmosphere. Matt was repulsed, but
stood his ground. He had to try and protect Tremlon from this evil
witch.

‘
Do not
meddle in matters that are way beyond your understanding,’ snapped
Sawbones, furious with the mortal for interfering. ‘The poison will
either kill him or cure him, it is not for you to decide,’ he fumed
and whilst he apologised to the guardian for the mortal’s
behaviour, Matt moved back into the shadows.

‘
Then I shall
continue,’ said the witch, giving Matt a smug grin and a hush fell
over the catacomb. The guardian placed her fingertips over
Tremlon’s forehead and glided her hand over his skin, stopping only
when she reached his abdomen. She noticed his breathing was shallow
and his chest could barely be seen to rise. A cry left her lips and
she stabbed the elf in the stomach with one of her long, lethal
nails. She ripped at his flesh, causing blood to ooze from his gut
and run along the altar. Tremlon’s eyes flew open and he shot up
into the sitting position. Red eyes met black.

‘
Sleep,’ the
old crone commanded.

He fell back, his arms flailing
by his side, once again unconscious. Matt felt bile rise in his
throat and he blinked back hot tears which stung his eyes; she had
made him literally sick to the stomach. Whilst crimson blood still
flowed down Tremlon’s side, the guardian made an awful noise in the
back of her throat before she spat into the wound. Matt felt sick
fill his throat and an uncontrollable river of vomit flowed from
his mouth.

‘
You’re
weak,’ said the hag, with fury burning in her eyes. ‘You’re not of
our world and you should not be here.’ Matt wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand and tried to compose himself. He looked up to
see she was rubbing Tremlon’s wound with a surprising tenderness,
and a bright light moved underneath the wound, before spreading
into each of his veins. Tremlon’s body was unable to stop the
poison which was carried in the guardian’s saliva and so it
travelled unleashed to every part of his body. The light burned
inside him like a fierce fire, rushing along his veins in search of
his heart. The moment the poison touched the barely pumping muscle
of life, all of the other channels of light disappeared, creating
one single aura around the centre of Tremlon’s chest. It was so
bright it was blinding and then it died away.

‘
It‘s done,’
said the hag with a wave of her hand. ‘Now leave me.’

The healer signalled for the
stretcher-bearers to come forward.

‘
How is he?’
asked a voice in Matt’s ear. Arhdel had returned.

‘
I don’t
know,’ Matt answered, turning to face the warrior, his face grim.
Arhdel shook his head in sympathy. ‘I hope he makes it,’ he said in
a sad voice.

‘
Well, we’re
not just going to sit here and do nothing, are we?’ Matt flared,
showing his frustration.

‘
No, indeed
we’re not. I have just spoken to the king and he has decided to
involve you in a very important task.’

‘
What kind of
task?’ asked Matt, surprised the king even knew of his
existence.

‘
The king has
no choice but to send us to try and bring Crystal back from the
Nonhawk.’

‘
Nonhawk, who
are they?’

‘
They are an
evil breed. I told the king I believe King Forusian, the ruler of
the Nonhawk, was responsible for the kidnapping of your friend. The
king appeared to agree with this theory. Unfortunately, we cannot
take Tremlon with us. There’s no doubt he would have been very
useful on this journey, but we must go it alone. However, on no
account must you tell another living soul what we plan to do. This
is to be our little secret, for only the three of us will know. I
have already disgraced myself because Crystal was captured whilst
in my care, I cannot fail again.’ Excitement ignited in Matt’s
green eyes.

‘
I don’t care
what it takes; I just want to help get her back.’

‘
It’s going
to be dangerous, my young friend, and we must prepare ourselves,
not just against the threats we can anticipate, but –’ Arhdel broke
off, pressing a firm hand onto Matt’s shoulder in a gesture of
their alliance. ‘I’ve suffered in ways your imagination could never
comprehend at the hand of Forusian; I’ve endured pain beyond your
wildest nightmares, and I do not look forward to going back and
taking you with me.’ Matt felt the palms of his hands begin to
sweat.

‘
Did he
torture you?’

Arhdel stiffened. ‘Yes, he
did.’ He broke Matt’s stare and cast his gaze to rest on the pale
and bleeding body of the shape-changer who was being taken back to
his chamber.

‘
We must get
ready for our journey,’ he continued, his voice gruff with raw
emotion.

‘
I am ready,’
said Matt, feeling a glimmer of exhilaration. ‘Just tell me
when.’

‘
Then we go
now; the horses are saddled and it is better to leave before
nightfall.’

Matt agreed and so they left
the catacomb, becoming part of Tremlon’s entourage. Tremlon awoke
from his slumber, his vision blurred with the effects of the
poison. The pain in his chest was excruciating and he was having
difficulty in breathing. He gasped in distress and both Arhdel and
Matt ran to his side, pressing a caring hand on both of his
shoulders.

‘
It’s okay,
just lie down and calm yourself; you’re in good hands,’ Matt
comforted, trying to get him to lie still.

‘
Crystal,’ he
rasped, ‘where’s Crystal? I must tell her the truth about her
mother.’ Arhdel became agitated by his words and called to the
healer to sedate him.

‘
He is
delirious and doesn’t know what he’s saying; calm him,’ he advised,
with an anxious glare.

‘
Why’s he
saying that?’ asked Matt, unaware of Arhdel’s twitch of
nervousness. ‘What does he mean,’ he added, sounding confused, ‘you
know, about Crystal needing to know the truth? Does he know her
parentage or something?’

‘
I don’t
know,’ Arhdel said, looking slightly shifty. ‘He is very ill and
his mind is playing tricks on him. Best to let him rest; once the
fever has broken, I’m sure he’ll be back to his old
self.’

Although not completely
satisfied with Arhdel’s explanation, Matt allowed him to lead him
out of the catacomb and towards the stable block where two horses
were waiting.

‘
We must stay
focused if we have any chance of getting Crystal back,’ said
Arhdel, giving Matt an encouraging pat on the back. ‘We will ride
to the castle of King Forusian and as we travel I will explain King
Gamada’s plan to free Crystal from her captor.’ Matt saddled up,
the reins feeling as alien to him as his surroundings.

Arhdel kicked his horse into
life and the dust rose.

‘
Arrgh,’ Matt
boomed in the horse’s ears. ‘You heard him, let’s go.’ The horse,
unwilling to be left behind, finally broke into a desperate canter.
They rode to the south, the wind howling its presence in the thick
mountain air. The deep rumble of the horses’ hooves drummed a
constant beat whilst they rode along the frozen plain and their
thoughts became tangled with determination and hidden
doubt.

In the evening around the
campfire Matt dozed whilst Arhdel guarded him with his sword. In
the wavering firelight Arhdel pondered over the revelations the
king had thrust upon him that very afternoon. He felt a barrier
rise between him and the boy and he couldn’t help feel saddened. He
liked Matt, but his loyalty was to the king. Neither Matt nor
Crystal knew the truth about who her natural parents could be and
the king wanted it to stay that way for the time being.

Arhdel had been shocked,
although he had managed to hide his despair from the king’s
piercing glare. Amella, his princess, had disappeared many years
earlier and only now did he know the reason why. The shame she had
suffered for loving a wizard would have been hard enough for anyone
to bear, but to then have her baby taken to save Bridgemear’s life
would have undoubtedly destroyed her. The ancient laws had been
written so many centuries earlier that no mixed breeds were allowed
because of what the Nonhawk had tried to do in the world of
mortals; their love had been doomed from their very first kiss.

He shook his head in dismay and
with a stern expression threw a piece of dry wood onto the fire; it
crackled and hissed before igniting. The flames settled and Arhdel
nudged Matt for him to take his turn on lookout. Although tired,
Matt rose from his bedroll and allowed Arhdel to catch a
well-deserved couple of hours’ sleep. Tomorrow they would carry on
until they reached Nonhawk territory and from then on there would
be no sleep for either of them until they returned victorious with
Crystal by their side.

Matt soon became lost in his
own thoughts whilst he sat gazing into the golden flames. He knew
Arhdel had changed, that something had shifted between them. Their
relationship seemed a little strained and he guessed it was because
of his visit that afternoon to the king. All he wanted to do was
get Crystal back, safe and sound. He let out a miserable sigh. Lies
and deceit, that was all anyone held dear in this place. He felt
depressed; he missed Crystal and just wanted to get her home.