Chapter 7
Without Magdalen in residence, her rooms were cold and empty; soulless. Kyren kept his gaze away from her lavish bed--now stripped bare of its silken sheets.
There were signs--here and there--that Amalea's technicians had been hard at work decoding spells and disarming traps. A gaping hole in the floor underneath one of the windows spoke of a success, and an expanse of cracked and broken tile gave mute testimony to a possible failure.
The mirror stood untouched, its gilded beauty mocking what lay behind its glass.
Kyren stared at his reflection for a moment, then tore his gaze away. "There's a--a button on the left-hand side."
"And more than likey a trap, since I doubt she wanted her secret to be discovered," Amalea said darkly. "I've already lost one of my team."
"Lost?" Kyren stared at her, stricken.
Amalea shook her head. "I'd rather not discuss it here. There's too much of Magdalen left here as it is. Since she told you to return here to kill her prisoner, I think, perhaps, you should open the secret door."
"And if she left a trap for me--" Kyren briefly closed his eyes. "Cousin, if she left a trap for me, promise me that you'll open the door regardless."
"I promise," Amalea said, her voice very soft.
It took him a try or two to find the button to press. He closed his eyes when he pressed it, expecting anything but the door to open. It would have been just like Magdalen to tell him to murder her prisoner, and then leave a trap behind that would kill him as well.
But the mirror slid open--whisper-quiet--and the smell of rot and mildew crept into the room.
Amalea hissed a strangled curse and started past him, but Kyren caught her arm just before she stepped into the tiny cell and opened his eyes.
"I'll go in," he said. "You stay out here." The dim figure lying in a corner of the tiny room was barely visible in the sunlight streaming through the windows. "Can you--Can you make me a light?" His throat was too dry to swallow, but he forced himself to anyway and almost choked on the fumes.
Amalea snapped her fingers and cupped her hand around a ball of flame. When she released it, it darted into the room and hovered over the body in the corner.
As far as Kyren remembered, Magdalen's prisoner had not changed positions. He had been lying in the corner three weeks ago, the same rusted shackles hanging from his stick-thin wrists. It was only Magdalen's word that assured Kyren he was well and truly alive then, and he didn't even have that to go on now.
Holding his breath, Kyren stepped over the mirror's frame and into the tiny cell. It only took five steps to reach the corner--and less than a second to determine that despite appearances, Magdalen had not lied.
"He's alive," he said, ignoring the puddles of slimy water to drop to his knees beside the boy. "He's--"
"He hasn't aged," Amalea said from behind him, her voice uncharacteristically grave. "Else Althea was robbing someone's cradle. Let's get him out of here, Kyren."
Without speaking, Kyren gathered the boy into his arms. He weighed almost nothing--a bag of bones--and one of the shackles slipped off his wrist without any resistance at all.
His other hand had been tied shut at one point, but the rope had rotted away long ago. When Kyren lowered him to Magdalen's abandoned bed, Amalea coaxed his clenched and blackened fingers apart.
"An interesting reaction to the spell," she said, and bit her lip as she tried to pry the heartblood stone from the palm of his hand. "It's the conduit, of course, but it also acts as a very powerful shielding spell. And I think someone wanted to find him very badly." She abandoned her efforts--for the moment, at least--and slid the other shackle off his wrist. "Kyren, there's an iron chain around his neck. Can you find something to remove it?"
"Must we stay here to do this?" Kyren shivered. "I realize you will think me even more paranoid, but I can't stop imagining Magdalen's presence in these rooms--" He heard a shiver of a sound behind him and spun around with a yelp.
But it was only the door in the mirror, sliding shut on its own.
"The chain first," Amalea said. "That way, if he has any sort of healing talent, his body will be free to use it to repair some of the damage."
The iron was so brittle that it crumbled at Kyren's touch. He picked up all the pieces he could find and deposited them into the hole in the floor--which vanished as soon as the iron canceled out Magdalen's spell.
"Hmm. Simple, but direct. I wish we'd have thought of that," Amalea said, and smiled at him. "There may be hope for you yet." She smoothed down the boy's tangled hair. "Josiah--if that is your name and you can hear me--you will be safe soon."
She stood, then, and held her hands out above his body. "I'm no Healer, of course, but we may need one if he doesn't wake up." She whispered a spell Kyren didn't know, and a gentle wind swept through the room, removing ten years of dirt and debris from Josiah's body and leaving clean skin and ruined clothing behind.
His hair was blond enough to be yellow, his skin wasted and pale. He looked so impossibly young that Kyren wondered if he didn't have some elvish blood in him. Magdalen would think that fitting, he suspected, if her prisoner was, in fact, a halfblood.
When he slid his arms underneath the boy's body, Josiah jerked awake in an instant, as if the alienness of touch had thrown a switch somewhere inside his mind. He rolled away from Kyren, saw Amalea, and changed direction, scrambling backwards until his back hit the wall behind the bed. Then he stopped, panting, his eyes wide with fright.
Kyren glanced at Amalea for direction, but she seemed as shocked as he was.
"We won't hurt you," he ventured, keeping his voice soft. "We're here to help you."
"Truly, we are," Amalea said. "My name is Amalea, and this is my cousin Kyren."
"Is--Is your name Josiah?" Kyren held out his hand. "Please--we are not here to harm you. I swear it."
Josiah's brow furrowed, as if he did not quite comprehend their words. After a moment of silence, he licked his lips and nodded. He made no move to speak. Was there something--some other spell, perhaps, preventing that? Althea had taken so much away from him already--
Amalea beat him to it. She approached Josiah carefully, as if he were a frightened puppy instead of a--a human shaped boy. With one slim finger, she touched his lips and whispered a spell--and something invisible burst into flames. The flames did not harm him, but he jerked back, hitting his head on the wall.
Kyren winced as Josiah collapsed on the bed, his eyes tightly closed. When he tried to push himself up with his wounded hand, it would not bear his weight.
"Can you speak now?" Amalea asked.
Josiah's cheeks were wet with tears when he raised his head. "Where--" He choked on the rest of his question and curled up on the bed, tucking his wounded hand against his chest.
"You're in Faerie," Amalea said. "In my family's castle. I would like to apologize on behalf of my kin. We did not know you were here."
Josiah's shoulders shook. Kyren wanted to strangle Magdalen--for starters--but he forced his mind to dwell on other things. Like the fact that Amalea had commented on Josiah's wounded hand, that someone had tried very hard to find him.
But would they still be looking, ten years later?
"Amalea, can you get that--that stone off his hand?" His voice was harsher than he intended, but Amalea took no offense.
"I can try again," she said. "But it's fused somehow. I might have to cut it free. And I'd rather do that in a medical setting, just in case there are complications."
"You said that the stone was the conduit for the spell," Kyren said. "Althea could use the spell, still, and--"
"She tricked me." Josiah's voice cracked. "Is--Is she why I am here?" His eyes were blue, Kyren noted. Blue and bloodshot and confused.
"Yes," Kyren said, and found himself close to tears.
"How long--How much time has passed?" Josiah started to shiver then, as if he dreaded the response to his question.
He was so weak; so frail.
"Someone tried to find you," Amalea said when Kyren did not reply. "The spell blocked their searching, but--if you leave this castle without that stone embedded in your hand, would they still be searching for you?"
"I don't know," Josiah whispered. "I'm all alone." He closed his eyes.
"Not anymore," Kyren said fiercely. "You're not alone anymore."
"No." Josiah's voice cracked again. "You don't--you don't understand. I'm all alone in my head. The bond is gone." Tears slipped down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "How much time has passed?"
"Were you connected to someone, then?" Amalea asked. "Is that why they tried so hard to find you? Once we get that out of your hand and if you leave the castle, your bond will return, unless it is well and truly broken."
"Ten years," Kyren said.
Josiah opened his eyes. "Ten--" He flinched then, and drew in a sharp breath. The heartblood stone had begun to glow.
"Oh, no," Amalea said, distressed. "No!" She grabbed Josiah's hand as he writhed on the bed, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched against a scream. "Kyren--a knife! I need a knife--she's using the spell!"
The only knife Kyren had in his possession at the moment was a tiny silver penknife that he used to cut reeds for his instruments. But the second Amalea touched the blade to Josiah's skin, his eyes flew open and he snatched his hand away.
"No!"
"It's a fatal spell, Josiah." Amalea said, practically begging him. "Please don't try to fight it alone. We've removed all the barriers--"
Josiah bared his teeth. "That--" He clenched his wounded hand tight, and the red light spilled from between his fingers. "Is--" He was panting again, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "All I need."
The heartblood stone exploded, leaving a hole in Josiah's hand that quickly filled with blood. He lay still for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling. "I will not stay here."
"That should not have been possible," Amalea murmured.
Kyren risked a glance at Amalea's face. "I daresay that after that you can go anywhere you desire."
Josiah nodded and let his eyes slide shut. He did not protest when Amalea wrapped a strip of cloth around his bleeding hand, nor did he awaken when Kyren carried him out of the room a few minutes later.
"That should not have been possible," Amalea said quietly as soon as they reached her rooms.
"He's had ten years to think up a defense to that spell," Kyren replied. "I imagine Althea's not in a very good mood at the moment." He lay Josiah on the bed he himself had so recently vacated, and stepped back.
"And I can't imagine that no one felt that, if the bond he spoke of still exists," Amalea said, staring down at him. "I'll be right back. Will you stay here with him?"
"Where are you going?" Kyren asked, a little apprehensively.
"To the kitchens, for food," Amalea said. "After a spell like that, he'll want to eat when he wakes up."
"If he wakes up," Kyren murmured.
"As you said, he had ten years to perfect that defense," Amalea replied. "Surely you don't think that in ten years he wouldn't leave himself enough strength to survive that spell's destruction?"
Next Update: August 17th or 18th
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