Sinners of Magic (38 page)

‘
Take them to
the dungeons,’ Forusian commanded whilst his eyes were feasting on
the princess. ‘Come,’ he said, sliding his body closer to hers and
causing her to shudder. ‘You’re riding with me.’

Forusian turned and looked down
at Arhdel.

‘
Leave him to
die,’ he ordered the soldiers, giving a sour smile. ‘He won’t be in
this world for much longer and I don’t want his carcass rotting in
my jail.’

Moments later he left and the
noise of horses’ hooves striking the uneven cobblestones were heard
when the magnificent beasts were burdened with a heavy load of
prisoners. As they were pulling away, a pair of watchful eyes, well
hidden from sight, espied them in the darkness of his hiding place,
and with growing trepidation watched the group being taken
away.

The inn was buzzing with the
travellers who had come to see what all the commotion was about and
to discuss what they had heard but not seen. Snitterby, now dazed
and confused, sat in the corner cursing aloud and Bridgemear
entered the place where moments ago both Amella and Crystal had
stood.

‘
Where are my
comrades?’ Bridgemear demanded, watching the keeper rub the back of
his head with the palm of his hand.

‘
Why are you
asking me?’ snapped Snitterby, pulling a surly face. ‘It’s not like
I’m their mother!’

Bridgemear scanned the four
walls and saw what looked to be the lifeless body of Arhdel lying
abandoned on the cot.

‘
Make
arrangements for his body to be taken to the Kingdom of Nine
Winters and I will ensure you are well paid,’ he told the keeper,
allowing a touch of despair to sweep into his voice.

‘
As you
wish,’ said Snitterby, getting to his feet. ‘It will be easy enough
to arrange.’

Just when Bridgemear was about
to turn and leave something caught his eye and made him pause,
mid-step. With swift reflexes he knelt before the warrior and
watched his eyelids flutter. Startled, he moved a little closer,
staring at Arhdel and willing him to live until the warrior opened
his dark, green eyes and looked up at him.

‘
Welcome
back,’ said Bridgemear, patting the warrior’s shoulder with relief.
He pressed his hand onto Arhdel’s chest and felt his heart beating
as strong as ten men. Arhdel tried to move.

‘
Hey, steady
on,’ said Bridgemear, pushing him back down. ‘I don’t think you’ll
be quite so keen to get up from your resting place once you realise
just how injured you are.’

Arhdel chose to ignore the mage
and Bridgemear found himself helping the warrior to his feet before
demanding that the keeper go and get water to press against his dry
lips.

‘
You must
rest and recover before you even think of going anywhere,’ said
Bridgemear, a short while later. ‘Even I cannot be sure of the
extent of your injuries.’

Arhdel remained silent but once
his lips were moist and his throat not quite so dry, he spoke for
the first time.

‘
It has been
many years since our paths have crossed,’ he said, letting his mind
drift back to a time when life had been so very different. A dark
shadow crept behind his eyes and he made his way on wobbly legs to
a small table, before pouring himself a large goblet of wine which
Snitterby had just brought in. Remembering his manners, Arhdel
offered it to Bridgemear, who merely declined, and Arhdel saw only
his look of concern.

‘
You know
what we have to do,’ stated Arhdel, almost to himself. ‘Forusian
must be stopped at any cost.’

With one swift gulp the wine
was gone and making its way down inside his belly. Arhdel’s
strength was returning, and his body was becoming powered with
energy and dexterity through Amella’s earlier potion.

He turned to Bridgemear.

‘
We must
leave immediately and end this once and for all, for he is a
dangerous man who will be content only when he has destroyed our
lives and become ruler of the extraordinary world.’ Arhdel’s eyes
filled with horror as he remembered what he’d seen being made deep
within the castle walls.

‘
We are in
serious trouble,’ he said, making his way back to Bridgemear’s side
and landing heavily on the threadbare cushion placed beside him. ‘I
have seen his evil creations and the horror which is in store for
us all.’

Bridgemear sighed, shaking his
head.

‘
I have seen
it,’ Arhdel insisted. ‘He has created a mass of dead limbs, body
parts that look like goblins and what’s more,’ he said, his voice
trembling, ‘I believe he’s trying to make them come alive.’ Their
eyes locked and Arhdel refused to look away.

‘
I also have
a notion as to why he wishes to claim Crystal of all the daughters
of magic. You see, Crystal will one day have complete supremacy and
with the help of the amulet she can make his dream a reality and
therefore we must find her before it’s too late.’

Bridgemear’s eyes hardened.

‘
He will
destroy her if she fails to give him what he wants.’

Arhdel dropped his gaze.

And if she does, we are all
doomed.’

Their conversation was
interrupted when someone came running through the broken
doorway.

‘
You’re
alive!’ Matt cried, with obvious joy at seeing the warrior. He
stood quite still, unable to believe his eyes. Arhdel’s own eyes
lit up like fiery beacons.

‘
Yes, my
young friend,’ he said, when a smile made its way to his lips, ‘it
does appear that way, doesn’t it?’

Chapter
25

In his private chamber,
Forusian poured himself wine and tried to control the loathing he
was suppressing deep inside. On reflection, he felt it had been a
serious mistake not to have successfully captured Bridgemear for
hadn’t this been the sole reason why he had attacked the lodging
house in the first place? But then his failure was not completely
without its reward; after all, didn’t he have Crystal back in his
grasp?

He refilled his goblet and
stood by the hearth with his feet planted slightly apart and his
long coat swaying against his wispy legs. The flames were soft and
colourful but the warm glow did nothing to penetrate his mood. He
turned, accidentally spilling wine down the sleeve of his coat. The
red liquid soaked into the expensive material, ruining the
luxurious garment, but Forusian had more pressing matters on his
mind. His thoughts were of his future, wishing only to taste sweet
victory, and so he made a conscious decision that this night would
be the night when his dreams became a reality.

He moved towards the window and
focused on the sky. It was All Hallows’ Eve, an evening
acknowledged by both worlds, and he remembered how mortals were
forever fearful of the magic and mayhem it so often conjured. He
hated them all, men, mages, elves alike and with an animalistic
roar he ran from his chamber and headed towards the tower. With his
confidence suddenly ignited, he felt his excitement grow. His
breath was short when he arrived at the anatomy unit, stopping only
to regain his composure.

He entered to an array of sharp
smells and bright flashing lights and waited until his eyes grew
accustomed to the glare before strolling between the caskets and
checking to see if the fleshy parts they harboured were showing any
signs of deterioration. On finishing his inspection, he made his
way to the back of the room. It was an area completely void of
caskets and held a distance of around fifty square feet.

He stood there with his arms
outstretched and his eyes closed, concentrating only on clearing
his mind, and then he whispered a forbidden spell. As soon as the
words left his lips a deep growl came from within the stone. The
noise was so loud it made his ears hurt and then a large part of
the floor broke away, creating a massive hole where the ground had
been seconds earlier. The hole was vast, at least thirty feet wide,
and in retaliation the ceiling shuddered and cracked, and particles
of dust and small pieces of debris rained down inside it, causing
Forusian to shield his eyes and turn his head away. Within minutes
the vaulting disintegrated and when he was brave enough to peek,
Forusian watched the solid structure of the ceiling rip apart to
reveal to him the dark, night sky. When he looked up at the stars
they were dim and grey, shrouded by a choking mist, but he was
pleased to see that the moon was full.

He scurried like a rat towards
a narrow stone pathway held together by broken rocks and sods of
earth that led to the centre of the pit. He reached the pinnacle
and peered down to see the chasm filling with the magic liquid he
had stored inside the huge vat below the anatomy unit. He rubbed
his hands together with glee when a golden river poured into the
gaping hole and gallons of seemingly bubbling lava frothed around
him until it almost touched the tip of his toes.

The heat soared and the
temperature rocketed and Forusian felt beads of sweat form on his
forehead, then quickly dry up and burn his skin. He shifted to the
very centre of the chasm and a sudden stab of contentment filled
his darkened heart. Flinging his arms out before him, he called to
the malignant spirit who was waiting to be summoned and, with a
rush, the caskets started turning on their axles, making their way
towards the pit, and once they reached the edge, their precious
cargo was tipped inside. Arms, legs, torsos and twisted heads
dropped into the gaping hole and Forusian looked on in fascination
whilst his sanity slipped away. He watched all the disgusting, blue
limbs bounce and dance in the enchanted river, a river which washed
them with black magic. He laughed aloud, for now all he needed was
a sacrifice...

*

Crystal was taken by surprise
when Forusian made a sudden entrance into her cell. He appeared
agitated and rather aggressive and his behaviour was totally out of
character for him, causing a wave of suspicion to wash over
her.

‘
I’ve come to
ask you one last time if you will marry me,’ he said, looking
disgruntled.

‘
Never in a
million years!’ she exclaimed, sensing danger but unable to stop
her mouth in time. ‘You know as well as I do that I would rather
die than marry you.’

The air cracked with tension
and Forusian looked at her through murderous eyes. Without warning
he lunged at her, taking her completely by surprise, and he grabbed
her around the throat, pressing his thumbs down onto her windpipe,
choking her until she became pliable. She fell to her knees and he
suddenly let go.

Gasping for air, Crystal had no
time to react before he was twisting his fingers deep into her
scalp and dragging her along the floor by her hair. Terror exploded
inside her brain and sharp pain shot down her throat, neck and
spine. With fumbling hands she tried to grab at her hair in an
attempt to loosen his grip, but she found she could not free
herself and he smacked at her hands like a naughty child.

‘
Enough!’
Forusian roared, stooping so close to her face she could see the
madness dancing in his eyes. ‘You had your chance to be with me and
you blew it.’

Tears poured down her
frightened face when he dragged her through the corridors and past
a few guards without showing an ounce of mercy. He took her to
where her amulet lay amongst his vast fortune of gold and jewels
and once satisfied she could not escape, he released her. He threw
her onto the ground; the charming Forusian was no more and in his
place stood a vile and terrifying sorcerer.

‘
Get up and
put the necklace on,’ he demanded, causing spittle to fly through
the air. His breathing was laboured but it was clear to her that he
was very much in control of himself. The amulet was dangling from
his fingertips like an expensive titbit and although she was numb
with shock, she stretched out her hand and took it from him. She
found her fingers were trembling so much she couldn’t fasten it
around her neck. The clasp was tricky and she watched the amulet
slip from her grasp and land at her feet on the floor. Anger sprang
across Forusian’s face and she felt panic rise in her chest when
she saw the flash of his ring and his hand flying towards her. He
slapped her so hard across the face he made her teeth rattle and
she gasped in open disbelief. His lips curled back in mockery and
she was terrified to see his eyeballs were turning black. Her cheek
burned with pain, but she held back the cry that filled her throat
and she grabbed the amulet and somehow managed to put it
on.

As soon as the necklace was
around her neck Forusian snatched her hair again and she screamed
out in desperation. He ignored her pleas to let her go and extended
his arm to retrieve a golden spear instead. The arrowhead was
carved with strange-looking symbols and decorated with tendrils of
platinum; he brushed his thumb over the very tip then pressed down
hard, drawing blood.

‘
My future
waits,’ he hissed, smearing a drop of his blood across her
forehead. ‘My time has come to be ruler of all and you
will
be the one to help
me fulfil my destiny.’

*

Bridgemear wasted no time
breaking into Forusian’s living quarters but was alarmed to find
his aura weakening the minute his feet made contact with the floor.
Leaning back against the cold, stone wall, he pulled his sword
swiftly from his belt. His mind swirled inside his head like
morning fog and he soon became dizzy, causing the acid in his
stomach to bring a wave of bile to his throat, and he panicked,
thinking himself sick. He looked down and saw his hands tremble and
he clenched his fists when the power drained from his fingertips.
His ice-blue eyes flickered when he realised his powers were
diminishing and he felt almost naked, such was the feeling of
exposure, and his thoughts flew to Forusian and the knowledge that
he had created a weakening spell.