Mark of the Princess (36 page)

Maligo looked at the ground around him. Pentacle signs in each corner, one larger one in the center. Dust and liquids laid dry between them exposing his previous failed attempts to resurrect.

He was weaker than he thought he would be. Every attempt at a resurrection left him more and more drained and yet he was no closer. The frustration at having lost his chance at retrieving Alannah ate at him. He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but the realization that he was now the top enemy of the fae people and that an army was likely to be heading toward him at this very moment was not easily forgotten.

The voices began once again. He looked around assuring that it was not coming from anything around him as this time they seemed like coherent whispers. He searched the air for Saros, but he had not returned yet. It was difficult sending him away, but it was the only way to monitor the outcome of Cormac’s plan.

Maligo began walking toward a small opening in the mountainside wall.
The scroll …
The voices were clearer now, and seemed to get louder as he walked closer to the opening. As he reached the opening, he surveyed it for a moment. It was no more than a large crack through which a fae could barely squeeze through. He glanced quickly at the clearing again, and turned his gaze back to the opening. He leaned the staff in front of him, using the glow of the orb to light the darkness as he squeezed himself through. The path was long and cramped, his back was beginning to hurt since he had to bend over to fit through. By now the voices had ceased. Taken over by an overwhelming sensation that he had no choice but to pursue this path. The pains radiated down his spine as he uttered curses beneath his breath for the narrowness of the corridor. After another few moments, he noticed that the light began to extend further, that it was no longer confined to tightness of the hallway. “Reprieve.” He uttered out loud.

He slid his hand into the pouch at his waist, covering it with his powder, preparing himself for magical defense. As he walked into the small circular room he realized by the cobwebs and dust that there was nothing he would need to defend himself against, except perhaps a large spider or two. He whispered some words and then blew the powder off of his hands, watching as it mixed with the surrounding dust. He looked around the room seeing nothing of importance. A small rotted stool sat in a corner. Maligo walked toward a shelf that had been carved in the rock like a pocket of sorts. The webs stuck to his hand as he wrapped his fingers around a parchment sitting in the crevice of the pocket.

Maligo propped his staff against the wall allowing the light to cast eerie shadows along the cave walls. He unrolled the parchment slowly, not knowing what could be within. The etchings surprised him at first since it was a language he had not seen in a long time. Memories of how to read the ancient language quickly came flowing back to him, and he began reading through the scroll. Without hesitation, he snatched his staff from the wall and hurried out of the room and through the path.

As he emerged from the opening, he smiled slightly at the sight of his tired Raynor bird. He walked in front of the pentagram searching frantically for a stick or a twig while Saros watched curiously. He found one and then ran to the center of the largest pentacle and in the ancient language scribbled what he had read in the scroll, an invitation to the demon spirit of Samil himself.

No sooner did he lift the twig off the ground did it begin to shake. He stepped back as black smoke began to rise from the outlines of the pentacle. Maligo continued walking back slowly, partially in disbelief, partially in pride that it worked, and partially, in fear.

The black smoke took the form of a hideous mass with curled horns at the top, ragged decrepit faerie wings rising out of it’s back and slanted red eyes that laid immediately on Maligo.

The demon made a sound that seemed like a chuckle and leaned closer to him surveying the faerie, Maligo blinked as the smell of sulfur surrounded him.

“Think me a fool, Sorcerer? I know you, and I know what you want. But you will not utilize me. It is I who will utilize you.” He leaned back to the center. “In order to leave this circle, I will need a blood sacrifice from one of my own line.”

“Tell me Samil. Where can I find this heir of yours? I will bring him back here.” Diverting his gaze and bowing his head once more.

Maligo stood, extending his arm in front of him and glaring at his family crest. “It is not possible, my crest is not of your family.”

“
Your
crest.” The demon looked at Maligo’s arm as well. “Your crest has been tampered with using the darkest of magic. It was all your mother could do to keep you alive as the fae were not about to allow any of my lineage to live.” A sneer spread across Samil’s ghostly face, and with one swift dark motion the demon cut across Maligo’s arm causing blood to drip into the circle.

Maligo jerked his arm back looking at the gash and immediately reaching into the satchel at his waist for a healing potion.

The demon’s dark laugh resonated through the entire valley. The dark mass swirled upward out of the circle into a plume of smoke and then back down to the ground beside Maligo.

There beside him Maligo saw the spirit form of Samil. He was young. His face sharply angled, his eyes were almost completely black and they peered directly at Maligo.

“Have you an army Sorcerer?”

“No Samil, I have obtained but a few that follow.”

“I believe it is time to call upon my former warriors. We will find those truly dedicated to our cause. And change the minds of those that are not. Let us finish what I started centuries ago.”

Maligo reached for his staff absorbing some of the energy he had stored in it and bowing his head. “Yes Samil.”

Samil, Maligo and Saros spent the rest of the night scouring the mountainside searching for any sign of a race of creatures that lived beneath the mountains that Samil had founded and named them Dorchae, because they came from out of the darkness. They rarely ventured out in the sunlight. They were hunched over from years living in the caves. Their eyes were a horrible dark yellow, and practically bulged from their faces. Their noses looked like that of a swine, and their mouths were nothing more than a slit beneath their snout. They had a tough skin that looked like leather, and communicated mostly through grunts.

Maligo and Samil soon realized that they would have to go deeper into the mountains and deeper underground in order to find them and recruit them.

~
Chapter
31~

The nightmares of the shadows and the demon wolf haunted her through most of the night. Sleep came fleetingly, if at all.

She walked over to the mirror and traced the faint lines of all her scars before drawing her attention to her marks, each having spread since last night.

“Only the Magisters. They have demanded that no one else be present. They have forbidden even the apprentices from attending. I do not know what is going on ma’am.”

I do
, Evyette thought to herself,
there is a traitor in this kingdom.

She pulled her boots on quickly and fastened the leather straps to hold her potions, her sword and her bow and arrow. She recited a few guarding spells and left the room.

“We have forbidden even the apprentices to be here today as we are still unsure of where the counter spells against your wards are coming from.” Torin stepped forward as he spoke.

Magister Morcant waved his arm around and spoke some words that created a concealment around the courtyard. Although they could still be seen, nothing they spoke could be heard by anyone else.

For the next few hours they recollected, recited and memorized various guarding spells, wards and deflective spells. Her head throbbed with the vast amount of information, but she knew that it was necessary.

“Evyette, we will be leaving at dawn tomorrow to Caelestis. I feel that if we spend too much time here we will be risking your safety since we do not yet know who here is against you.”

“Yes Magister Torin.”

“Tell no-one. Not even Tristan and Kaleb. Bring them to the infirmary, there is a room there where we can speak without being heard.”

He turned to the other Magister. “Go and tell the King and Queen that we need to speak to them.” He released the concealment spell and they all went their separate ways.

They all met at the infirmary waiting for Magister Torin to arrive and join them.

“My apologies. I was interrogating the Magister Apprentices to find if any of them had spoken to anyone or if they had seen anything suspicious. Elias and Quinlan have not spoken to anyone nor seen anyone around that they did not recognize.”

The guards scattered quickly searching for the trespasser, as the Magisters opened the secret room to speak to their audience about the impending trip.

The guards ran about the castle the grounds of the Kingdom searching for the intruder. The faeries of the Kingdom watched them intently as they new that something had to be going on for this was not the normal behavior of the guards. They entered the stores and shops searching for any unknowns and asking the owners and patrons if they had seen anyone suspicious. Other guards had been sent to check the homes in the villages.

The small bell rang as the front door opened and the young faerie stepped into the old store.

Perfect.
He thought, looking around at the dusty shelves and realizing that this run down shop would be the best place to hide.

“Yes, you can keep your mouth quiet when the guards come in looking for me and I will not hurt you.” He spoke the words quickly as he rushed past her ducking behind the counter.

No sooner did he duck down than did a guard enter the store.

“We are looking for a traitor. We are unsure if he is a Magi or an intruder. Has anyone been in your shop?”
The old faerie shook her head. The guard looked her, glanced around the shop quickly and walked out.

The young faerie emerged from hiding. “Very good old fae.” He walked to the windows carefully, peering out to see where the guards had gone.

“You are mad!” He looked around the room and saw that these were also her living quarters. A small bed in one corner, and a table with various potions, an old baby’s coverlet, and some weapons in the other.

She said nothing but continued to walk to him.