The beggar prince, p.17
The Beggar Prince, page 17
part #1 of Unbroken Bond Series
“Get out of the way, Thalas,” Thane warned. As the elf glared at him, Thalas was more acutely aware than ever of just how much larger than he Thane was.
“We know Merethia better than they do. We know it better than Baern and my father. We can find them first.”
“And what makes you think they're in Merethia?”
“Because that's all they know. And the Kin-Slayer won't have full control of the boy yet, it's too soon.”
Thane glared at him, but Thalas could see he was seeing the truth in his words. Nodding, he looked at the others.
“We can get to them first, then we can–”
“Do what, Thalas?” Neremi demanded. “Do you honestly believe you'll be able to control that boy now? Do you think there is a place we, the five of us, can put him, that he won't just walk out of?”
“Then…maybe we don't control him.”
“What?”
“Chronomancy has been dead for aeons. Perhaps it's time the art was re-learnt.”
“Thalas–”
“Why not? We help her, she helps us. It's a deal she's made before, nothing's stopping her from making it again.”
“But if we learn it, they'll know we helped her and they will banish us without a doubt.”
Thalas grinned as he wandered his gaze about his friends.
“If even half the stories of chronomancy are true, do you truly think we will need the Tower anymore? We will be our own lords, we will make our own rules! Wherever we go, whatever we do, we will be the masters, us! Not the Tower, not our parents, us!”
Silence fell upon them as Thalas stared at his friends. Slowly, one by one, he watched as the gazes of the others changed. One by one, the anger and disgust in their gazes faded away, replaced with simple desire. At last, Thalas nodded.
“We have work to do.” And with that, he swung open the door and marched out.
*****
Kneeling between Marshalla and Davian, Tip wept softly as the cooling waters of Merethia's Aqueduct ran behind his dear friends. With his tears running freely down his face, Tip stared at Marshalla and Davian both as they sat leaning against the Aqueduct's wall. He was waiting, praying for some sign of life, be it a twitch, a groan, anything. Dear gods, anything.
“I said I was sorry, didn't I?”
Tip held his peace.
“How many times do you wish me say it? I am sorry. I am sorry. I. Am. Sorry!”
Sniffling, Tip wiped his nose on his sleeve, but his tears fell still.
“Oh gods, Tip, do stop that! I told you, a thousand times already, I had no choice. The paling around the Tower is immensely strong, stronger than you can comprehend. I had to put a lot of power behind my portal spell, especially since it was three I was porting rather than just you. If anything, you should be thanking me! With the power I put into the spell, there was only a one in five chance of death! From certain death to one in five, you have to admit that's quite something, right?”
But still, Tip didn't answer.
“It will wear off, Tip, upon my honour. Just, please, stop the weeping!”
But Tip ignored her still.
“Ugh! Fine, be that way!”
Just then, Marshalla stirred as a pained groan escaped her lips.
“See? Told you.”
“Marsha?”
Slowly, Marshalla turned to stare squinting at Tip. “Tip?”
In an instant, Tip flung his arms about her as he hugged her, burying his head in her bosom. Smiling, Marshalla looked down at him.
“Glad to see you too.”
Looking up at her, Tip wiped his nose on his sleeve again as he grinned at her. It was then that Davian groaned. Both turned to watch as the young elf stirred and slowly straightened himself before finally looking over at his friends.
“Where are we?”
“The Aqueduct, looks like,” Marshalla replied, taking in her surroundings.
“Why here?”
“Because it was the first place you thought of.”
“Was the first place could think of,” Tip said.
“She brought us here?” Davian asked. Tip nodded.
“Is she still there?” Marshalla asked. Again, Tip nodded. Straightening, Marshalla lowered her head slightly as she stared at Tip with quite some concern.
“Is she hurting you?” she whispered.
“I can hear you, you know!”
Tip smiled before shaking his head. Marshalla smiled, relaxing visibly.
“How long have we been here for?” Davian asked as he stared at the setting sun.
“A while,” Tip replied. Davian looked at him, frowning.
“Why? What happened?”
“Ani said you had alaric poisoning.”
Davian and Marshalla looked at each other, visibly alarmed.
“Etheric poisoning, Tip, etheric.”
“Sorry, etheric poisoning.”
“Oh,” Davian replied, relaxing somewhat.
“What's that?” Marshalla asked.
“It's mostly harmless,” Davian replied, staring at Marshalla. “Our etheric signatures were compromised by being in the centre of a spell whose power was beyond that which our bodies could safely withstand. It's most common during teleportation or illusion spells directed at the self.”
“You mean Tip's porting.”
“Right. The power of it must've been immense. Which is to be expected, actually, given the paling about the Shimmering Tower.”
“Thank you!”
“So, we'll be fine?” Marshalla asked.
Davian nodded. “We just needed time for the excess ether our bodies absorbed to be lost.”
Marshalla smiled at last. “Good, one less thing to worry about.” Then, she turned to Tip. “You scared?”
Tip's smile slowly faded as he nodded.
“Me too.”
“You don't have to be afraid, Tip, I'm here.”
“Listen,” Marshalla continued. I need to talk to Ani. Can she hear me?” Once more, Tip nodded.
“Good, uhm…”
“Actually, let me talk to them.”
“She wants to talk to you too, wait,” Tip said as he stared off into the ether.
“Give me control, Tip, it'll be easier that way.”
“How to do that?” Tip asked aloud.
“Do what?”
Tip stared at Marshalla. “Sorry, talking to Ani.”
“Clear your mind, and count to three.”
Confused, Davian and Marshalla watched as Tip slowly nodded once, again, and again, before suddenly looking straight at Marshalla.
“Greetings,” he said, his piercing gaze boring deep into her.
“Hello,” Marshalla replied nervously. “You Ani?”
“Who else?”
“Right. Now, look, don't mean to sound ungrateful, but we out now, we all safe, so why don't you just be on your way and we be on ours, eh?”
Anieszirel smiled at her. “I'm afraid it's not that simple.”
“Why not? You climbed into Tip, now climb out and be on your way.”
“My dear, do you honestly think if I were able to take corporeal form, I wouldn't have by now? I don't have one. Tip is my host, and here I shall remain until I find a new host.”
“But…but he's just a boy!”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“Now, look–”
“No, you look. You're worried for him I understand, you're worried I might hurt him, do something horrible to his mind. Well, I won't. My hatred is not for Tip, if anything I owe him a great deal. He freed me, saved me from that horrible existence, and the very last thing on my mind is to hurt him. I am no monster, my dear, no matter what those retarded fools at the Tower tell you.”
Marshalla stared at Anieszirel for a spell, before finally relaxing somewhat.
“How did Tip save you anyway? He only knows water spells. Hearing that Drakesong go on about the void orb–”
“Void sphere.”
“Right, that thing. From what that Drakesong woman was saying, Tip shouldn't have been able to go anywhere near it.”
“Ah yes, well…it would appear our young friend is rather…light fingered.”
Marshalla stared at Anieszirel, confused. In response, Anieszirel nodded towards something further way from them. Curious, both she and Davian turned, though it was Davian who rose and walked over to it.
“What is it?” Marshalla asked when Davian came to a halt. He stared down at it, and finally bending, he picked up the runic key Tip had tossed the moment they'd appeared.
“It appears to be a runic key. I think it's Archmage Drakesong's.”
“Oh Tip,” Marshalla said, “you didn't.”
“Sorry, Marsha. Really sorry.”
“Tip truly is quite sorry he stole it, but I for one am glad he did. With the key in his possession, he was able to reach the void sphere and breach its surface enough to allow me escape.”
“But now that he stole it, everyone'll think he wanted you out from the start! And then there's those six that tried to rob us all, they'll be looking for us too since you killed one of them.”
“You make it sound like I did a horrible thing.”
“Well–”
“Do not finish that sentence, young lady.”
Marshalla fell quiet, glaring instead at Anieszirel.
“What are we going to do, Marsha?” Davian asked. Marshalla moved to speak, but she genuinely didn't know what to say.
“The safest thing right now, is to find somewhere safe and stay out of sight,” Anieszirel said. “At least until the pressure has waned somewhat. Preferably somewhere outside Merethia.”
“Outside Merethia?” Marshalla exclaimed.
“Of course! The Tower'll be looking for you, looking for me. And if they are to find our friend Tip, they won't be gentle, or nice.”
The hairs on the back of Marshalla's neck slowly stood tall. “Meaning what?”
“Well,” Anieszirel replied, avoiding Marshalla's gaze as she spoke, “rather than risk me escaping to a new host, they will most likely trap Tip as he is in a void sphere.”
“No!” Marshalla exclaimed.
“That's horrible!” Davian added.
Anieszirel nodded sadly. “Yes, that it is. That's what they did to my last host. His essence only lasted just over a decade before the forces within the void sphere pulled him apart completely. With a mind as young as Tip's, he wouldn't last anywhere near as long.”
Placing a gentle hand on Marshalla's leg, Anieszirel looked deep into her eyes. “Get out of Merethia while you still can. Go far away from here. Wait a year, maybe three, then return. I know it's a lot to ask, but if you stay here it'll only be a matter of time before they find you.”
Marshalla stared at her, but the more she stared the more she felt the truth in her words. At last, she nodded.
“Fine.”
“Good!” Anieszirel exclaimed. “Though you'd want to hurry. They'll be closing the gates out of town, if they haven't already.”
“Can't you port us somewhere?” Marshalla asked, frowning.
“Ah, I wish it was that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Well, to teleport somewhere, you need to be able to see the place clearly in your mind's eye, focus on it. The only places I can focus on are in the Tower. I've been their prisoner for too long to clearly recall anywhere else. And, Tip only has clear memories of Merethia. I'm afraid we'll have to make our way out of here the old-fashioned way.”
“Maybe we should go to my father,” Davian offered. Both looked at him. “He'll know what to do. He always knows what to do.”
Marshalla shrugged after a spell. “It wouldn't hurt,”
Davian nodded, smiling as he rose. “We just have to get to him when Thalas isn't there.”
At this, Marshalla frowned.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
“Why don't you want Thalas to be there?”
Davian stared for a spell with a blank gaze, but then as he moved to speak, no words came forth. He looked from one to the other, slowly cowering away from them.
“Davian…” Marshalla began as she leant towards him. “What is it? Not nice to keep secrets.”
Davian pouted as he dropped his gaze to the runic key in his hands.
“The one who hurt you,” he replied after a brief spell, “it was Thalas.”
With the blood draining from her face, Marshalla raised her hand to her bosom, where he'd seared her flesh.
“I healed you while you were unconscious,” Anieszirel said. “You're welcome.”
Marshalla stared from her back to Davian. “You sure?”
Davian smiled sadly as he looked up at her. “He's my brother, Marsha. I'd recognise his gait anywhere.”
“But wasn't his voice.”
“It was him, Marsha, it was him. He must've woven a spell to hide his voice, but I'd recognise his gait anywhere.”
Marshalla frowned, staring off into the ether as she tried to make sense of what she'd just heard.
“Why?” she asked at last. Davian shrugged before frowning, dropping his gaze back to the runic key in his hands.
“He and Father never really liked each other,” he replied after another brief silence. “Father's always seen him as a…failure. He's always coming up with these schemes and plots to make himself rich so he and Neremi could leave. I hear them sometimes, they think I don't hear them, but I do.”
“So they were thinking of stealing me, then selling me off,” Anieszirel mused. “Well, they certainly wouldn't have wanted for money had they succeeded.”
“Dear gods,” Marshalla whispered, turning to stare at Anieszirel. “The Drakesong woman must be with them! She made Tip steal the key, must've! Thought it was weird the way she kept pulling Tip close. She wanted him to steal the key!”
“That makes no sense,” Davian said. “why not just give them the key?”
“They keys are attuned to their owners,” Anieszirel replied. “Without retuning them first, giving them away will deaden them. And any retuning is etched onto the key, visible for all to see.”
“But if it's stolen it doesn't stop working?” Marshalla asked. “A bit stupid that, isn't it?”
“Not necessarily. Each key comes with a binding chain, it keeps the key upon the owner's person at all times. The magic in the chain needs to be recast every few weeks though, else it is spent. Arenya must not have recast hers so Tip could take it.”
“That bitch.”
“Language!” Anieszirel exclaimed at Marshalla, who made a face at her in response before turning her gaze to Davian.
“We'll do it your way, then. Know how we can get in quietly?”
“I can teleport you there,” Anieszirel offered. Both looked at her. “Right into your room. Tip just showed it to me.”
“Ok, take us to their room. We sneak down, see Davian's father and decide what to do then.”
“Right!” Anieszirel exclaimed as she leapt to her feet. As she did so, the others rose.
“So, uh…what next?” Marshalla asked.
“Well, for this to work you must both hug me as tightly as you possibly can, then you must both kiss me.”
Frowning, both stared at each other before staring at Anieszirel. Neither moved. After a moment's silence, Anieszirel rolled her eyes at them, sighing heavily as she did so.
“You're no fun, you know that,” she muttered, and teleported them to Davian's room.
“Woah!” Davian exclaimed as they reappeared. He looked at Anieszirel, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.
“Just like that?”
Anieszirel shrugged, grinning. “When you're this skilled, you don't need any silly gestures or incantations.”
“No, you just show off instead,” Marshalla muttered drily as she headed for the door.
“Jealous, are we?” Anieszirel replied with a smug smile as Marshalla walked over to the door. Opening the door a crack, she checked the hallway. Satisfied, she nodded to the others. Gently, carefully, they crept out of Davian's room, making their way towards the stairs.
“We should check Thalas' room,” Davian whispered, “make sure he's not in.”
“Where's his room?” Anieszirel asked, whispering also.
“At the end of the corridor,” Marshalla whispered, nodding to the far end before them.
“Then, he's not in.”
Marshalla and Davian both looked at Anieszirel.
“Sure?” Marshalla asked.
Anieszirel nodded. “Positive. I sense no other presence upstairs.”
“Good,” Marshalla replied as Davian relaxed visibly.
“But why are we whispering?” Anieszirel asked as they crept forward.
“So nobody would hear us, silly!”
“Even though I've cast a sound barrier about us?”
“Why didn't you say something before?” Marshalla exclaimed, raising her voice to near shouting.
Anieszirel shrugged. “You didn't ask.”
Marshalla and Davian stared at her with mouths agape.
“What?”
“Ugh!” Marshalla cried. “Come on.”
“They can still see us though, so, do be careful.”
“Well, can you do something about that?” Davian asked.
“Yes.”
An uncomfortable chill ran down both Marshalla and Davian's spines as they stared at Anieszirel, but it did not last long.
“All done?” Marshalla asked.
Anieszirel nodded.
“Good, come on, then.” As one, they hurried down the stairs towards the reading room, the one place Thuridan was sure to be found.
“Anyone in there?” Marshalla asked.
Anieszirel nodded. “One.”
“Good,” Marshalla replied as she reached for the handle. Just then, the door bell rang. As it did so, the door to the reading room sprang open as Thalas hurried out.
“Who is it, Albretcht?” he asked their butler as he closed the study door behind him just as Anieszirel placed a calming hand on both Marshalla and Davian's arms.
“It's the master,” Albretch replied, opening the door as he spoke.
“Welcome home, Father,” Thalas said as Thuridan Grovemender flew into the house. He eyed Thalas with a fiery gaze as he peeled off his coat.
“Where have you been?”
“I was out with Neremi. We'd had our fill of the open-door event, so we went about Merethia for a spell. Then I came home. Albretcht told me what had happened, so I waited around in case Davian or one of the others came back.”
