Sinners of Magic (36 page)

‘
He’s got rid
of all the bodies,’ she whispered, when she opened yet another door
to find nothing inside but cold air.

There was only one chamber
left. Her hands were shaking as she stretched her fingers around
the bolt and drew it back. To her horror, Arhdel lay manacled face
down on a table. His back had been slashed, his skin invisible
through a sea of crimson welts, and the floor was awash with his
blood. Matt and Crystal froze in terror.

‘
Nienna, you
have the brooch, unfasten the manacles,’ Amella commanded, rushing
to his side and checking his pulse. ‘Look, he’s barely
alive.’

Crystal snapped into action and
ran to the warrior’s side, unlocking the manacles with two swift
clicks.

Matt went to help, but the
blood had congealed on the floor and he slipped.

‘
Get up!’
cried Amella, as she put one of Arhdel’s lifeless arms around her
neck, ‘I need you to hold him for me.’

Suddenly angry shouts
penetrated the corridor.

‘
Oh no, they
know I’ve escaped,’ Matt blurted, dragging the unconscious body
away from his chains.

‘
Then we must
work quickly,’ gasped Amella, already out of breath. ‘Nienna, come
here and hold Arhdel whilst I use the brooch to open a
doorway.’

Crystal ran to her side and
immediately changed places.

‘
Damn it,
there’s no natural sunlight in here. We must go back into the
corridor, I’m sure I saw a window out there.’

‘
But the
guards are coming!’ roared Matt in blind panic. ‘If they reach us
they’ll kill us where we stand.’

‘
Matt, we
don’t have a choice. Either we head for the corridor or we simply
stand here and wait for them to kill us.’

‘
Get out!’
shouted Crystal, realising it was their only chance. ‘Amella’s
right, if we go now, we just might make it.’

Matt felt her eyes bore holes
into his and found himself heaving Arhdel’s body through the
doorway with Crystal’s help. Amella ran in front and found the
window. She opened the brooch, manipulating the eyes of the raven
to capture the last of the sunlight. A small shimmer created the
gateway they so desperately needed, and Amella crouched down and
pulled open the muddy grate.

‘
Hurry,’ she
urged, on hearing the soldier’s shouts getting louder, ‘they’re
almost upon us.’

Amella jumped into the tunnel
first. Arhdel’s unconscious body was pushed into the hole and
landed on top of her, winding her, and Matt followed, helping to
manoeuvre his heavy frame from off her. Crystal climbed in and used
her nimble fingers to lock the doorway. A cry rang out as the
soldiers were heard arriving at Arhdel’s chamber and then the
doorway closed.

‘
They were
too late,’ laughed Amella in triumph. She turned to face Crystal.
‘You must make your way to the healer, Sawbones, if you wish to
save this warrior. You may find it hard to gain entry into the
Palace of Nine Winters without your key, but Arhdel doesn’t need
one.’

‘
What key?’
Asked Crystal, feigning ignorance.

Amella almost choked with
surprise.

‘
Why your key
is the amulet every elf from the Imperial Palace is given upon
their birth. I can see the resemblance to the king himself in you;
therefore you must be a child of the realm.’

Matt gulped and Crystal flashed
him a look that chilled his bones.

‘
Oh, that
amulet,’ said Crystal, a little too casually. ‘Forusian took it
from me when he captured me.’

A look of horror flew to
Amella’s face.

‘
This is
worse than I first thought. If he has your amulet, then he will
want to use it for his own gain. I am not strong enough on my own
to overthrow such a powerful king; we need the power of the Guild
behind me.’

Amella began to pace the floor
and her mind raced ahead. If only she could get the Oakwood wizards
here, surely they would be more than a match for Forusian. A sudden
chill ran down her spine. What if Forusian already knew how to use
the amulet?

‘
We are all
in grave danger,’ she said, clasping her hands together with worry.
‘We must leave here and get help immediately.’

Slowly, they moved down the
tunnel, hindered by Arhdel’s broken body. The evening was not so
bright and their journey ended abruptly.

‘
Damn it,’
said Amella, when she hit a wall of earth, ‘we have run out of
sunlight.’

The iron grate they came upon
was heavy and not so easy to move but once Amella checked the area
was safe, she forced the gateway open.

‘
To hell with
Forusian,’ she cursed, under her breath. ‘We are still within the
castle walls and the doorway has given us only a short passage out.
The sun has gone so we cannot use the brooch again today so we must
hide and keep low until the morrow, then I will be able to get us
out of here.’

‘
What about
Arhdel?’ Matt pressed, ‘he may not live for much longer if we don’t
seek help.’

‘
Then we must
do the best we can. I will scout about and see if I can find an
indiscriminate healer. As long as one of us stays in the tunnel it
will not close. But be very careful and on no account must you draw
attention to yourselves whilst I’m gone.’

Amella was soon winding her way
through the streets as the last remnants of daylight disintegrated
into early dusk. The alleyways were now much calmer; the market
traders were home and the only sound came from a stray hound,
howling whilst the darkness descended.

Cautiously, she walked amongst
the few with her hair covering her face and her drab clothing gave
no clear indication of who she really was. She headed in search of
anyone who had provisions to heal, and although there were no clear
painted signs to guide her, she fell upon such a dwelling without
much difficulty.

The healer was a renowned black
witch, known to most to have an unpredictable temper, and Amella
checked she had not been followed before lifting the strange woven
curtain the witch used as a door and stepping inside.

The room was in darkness except
for a cluster of candles that illuminated a small corner. The
dwelling was rather peculiar and with every flicker of a candle
Amella’s silhouette bounced against the walls to create long,
sinister shadows.

With growing anticipation,
Amella strained her eyes in search of the healer. The room was
filled with strange aromas and Amella glanced down at an assortment
of herbs lying on a table. She brushed her fingertips over a stem
of pretty flowers and then recoiled when the petals changed into
hissing vipers that stretched their mouths, trying their best to
sink their fangs into her flesh and bite her. She immediately
stepped away and banged straight into a chair. Her heart was in her
mouth and she turned to see a row of glass jars filled with large
hairy spiders and long-legged creepy crawlies staring right at her.
The air turned still and then a solitary figure loomed out of the
semi-darkness, taking her by surprise.

‘
What do you
want?’ spat the witch, sweeping closer. Her body was bent almost
double and she wore a black, hooded cloak that masked her old,
wizened face.

Amella felt a stab of
apprehension.

‘
I need some
herbs,’ she said, clearing her throat of fear.

‘
Speak up,’
demanded the old woman. ‘I take it you’ve come for something in
particular?’

‘
Why, yes,’
answered Amella, filled with unease. Her voice sounded strange to
her and she realised she was trembling.

‘
Do not fear
me, elf woman, for I wish you no harm.’

‘
I am not
afraid,’ Amella said, jutting out her chin. ‘I just need a few
things from you so I can make a potion.’

‘
And what’s
wrong with one of mine?’ snarled the witch, insulted.

‘
Nothing at
all,’ Amella answered honestly. ‘It’s just a concoction I created
myself.’

The witch eyed her with a
sudden curiosity.

‘
So what is
it that you require?’

‘
I need the
shavings of cedar, a handful of hyssop and a small number of
juniper berries.’

‘
Hmm,’ said
the witch, with a spark of interest. ‘So you need cedar, which is
known for its healing powers and courage, hyssop will give
protection and purification, and the juniper berries will give
extra protection and a speedy recovery.’

Amella instantly felt stupid.
She should have known the witch would know why she wanted such
specific ingredients and cursed herself for acting so dim. The old
woman moved around the wooden table and with agile fingers began to
prepare the ingredients Amella needed.

‘
You will
need six to eight flower whorls from the hyssop bush if you friend
is in a bad way,’ said the witch, looking Amella straight in the
eye. ‘You are foolish to take what belongs to Forusian for he will
destroy all that is yours in return.’

Amella was ill-prepared for the
witch to speak so bluntly and she quickly broke eye contact.

‘
I’m sorry, I
don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she mumbled, ‘you must have
misunderstood why I’m here.’ The witch broke out into a toothless
grin when she turned her attention to some drying
leaves.

‘
I speak only
the truth,’ she said, parcelling up the ingredients with her old,
wizened fingers.

Amella stood tight-lipped.

‘
I’m done,’
said the old woman, at last. ‘Make sure you use these as soon as
possible; if you let them dry out they will lose their healing
powers.’ Her outstretched hand held three parcels, which she
dropped into Amella’s palm.

‘
Do you have
a silver bowl?’

‘
No, do I
need one?’

‘
Yes, I have
one here somewhere.’ She reached out and pushed a few particles of
dried leaves and decaying bark to one side, revealing a small,
dirty bowl.

‘
Here, take
it,’ she commanded.

‘
You’re very
kind,’ Amella told her.

‘
I only do
what I’m paid for,’ said the witch, becoming cross. ‘However, even
I can regret what I have done in the past.’

‘
Whatever do
you mean?’

The witch cocked her head,
studying the other woman’s face more closely.

‘
She will
look like you, but will have his eyes.’

‘
What are you
babbling about, old woman? You don’t know me.’

‘
But I know
of your child.’

Amella felt a flutter of panic
build around her heart. The mere mention of her daughter forced an
overwhelming pain to form in her chest and, swiftly recovering part
of her composure, she placed two small coins in the palm of the old
woman’s hand.

‘
Thank you
for the herbs and the silver bowl,’ she said, tucking the parcels
safely into a hidden pocket sewn into the lining of her
skirt.

‘
There’s no
safe place to hide,’ muttered the old witch, when Amella turned to
leave.

Pulling back the curtain,
Amella left without uttering another word. The witch gave a hiss of
irritation before she fell back into the shadows and allowed her
poisonous tongue to quieten.

The night had finally fallen
and with it came a biting wind which stung Amella’s face. She
wasted no time dallying, but her thoughts were elsewhere as she
turned a corner and collided with full force into the arms of a
stranger.

‘
Hey, what’s
your hurry?’ someone asked, alarmed.

She was startled and unprepared
and she tried to smile, relieved it wasn’t a Nonhawk guard.

‘
Are you
alright?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing with concern. He brushed the
mass of hair away from her face and saw the panic in her large,
green eyes. Recognition was also instantaneous.

‘
By all the
gods!’ the stranger roared, ‘Amella, is that you?’

Terror flew to her throat at
the sound of her name and she tried to loosen his grip, but the
stranger held her fast.

‘
Amella, it’s
me, Amadeus! Have I changed so much that you don’t recognise a
faithful soldier of your father’s anymore?’

For a moment she did not
register what he was trying to say, wishing only to run to the
safety of the tunnel, but then recognition ignited in her eyes. It
had been many years since she had seen Amadeus and memories of the
past brought back the reality of why she’d left her kingdom. The
pain was suffocating her and the brief conversation with the witch
was playing over and over in her head. She fought the ache, but
consumed with grief her mind turned black and then the lights went
out, and she fell into an abyss of darkness.

Amadeus felt her weight fall
against him. Deeply concerned, he swept her off her feet and
carried her in his strong arms, hugging the shadows whilst he made
his way back to the lodging house.

Mordorma looked up in surprise
when his comrade crashed through the door with a dishevelled woman
in his arms.

‘
I could have
found you one a little better if you’d asked,’ teased Mordorma,
with a chuckle.

‘
Don’t be so
stupid! This is Amella,’ Amadeus cried. ‘I literally ran into
her.’

He stood with his feet apart to
help balance the weight. He gave a pleading look at Mordorma, not
knowing quite what to do with her.