Chapter seventy-two

The Mage Agora

The second mail paper was a shock. He recognised the handwriting immediately.

Dear John – I write in haste but it’s really important. I have good reason (that I can’t explain to you in a mail paper) to believe that the naga, and whatever it guards,  in Ortia is threatened by a deadly foe. Please help if you can.  Lily.

The last letter he had received from Lily had been full of undergraduate studies and awkward parties. This was a complete shock.  He hadn’t even known that there was a guardian in Ortia, although he was not surprised. John looked up. Everything in the room seemed to have shrunk. 

‘Time to get out of here’ he announced, mostly to himself.

George, who had been able to read the mail paper well enough over John’s shoulder, nodded at him.

‘Yes – but how?’ he asked.

John smiled. He got up from the floating table.

‘Leave that to me’

John stood up and bellowed across the room. He knew that nothing annoyed mages more than shouting.

‘I need to speak to Queen Sophia – now!’

The mages sighed and out their fingers up to their mouths simultaneously, as if on cue. John had already decided on exactly what he was going to do. He shouted, much more loudly. This  was exactly the sort of behaviour that mages abhorred. 

‘Get me Queen Sophia – I want her NOW!’

‘Shush’ went the three mages, there were mutterings of ‘quiet, ‘can we have some decorum please’, and ‘totally unacceptable behaviour’ but that made no difference to John. He just got louder. One of the mages rushed out if the room, muttering to himself.

‘Queen Sophia – where are you?’ continued John

She appeared from behind the curtain that covered the far wall. She was dressed in a less formal toga, it was apricot rather than purple, but just as loose fitting. John shivered momentarily, he had no desire to face a panther.

‘I’m here’

Huw was beside her; looking more confident now, wearing an almost identical brown toga. He was short and dark like many Rhylish humans – he looked uncannily elvish in his Helian get up.

‘I want to leave’ announced John.

Sophia looked at him in astonishment.

‘But I ordered you to stay’

John’s heart sank – self-crowned elven monarchs were always the hardest people to deal with.

‘I’m not your subject’ he suggested, softly

Sophia smiled a gentle, extremely regal, smile.

‘That’s not how ruling works, you know’ she purred, ‘Queens decide on subjects, not the other way around…’

John frowned

‘Then I’m rebelling’

Sophia shook her head very crossly.

‘No, you can’t do that. You’re almost my most prestigious liegeman; I can’t have you starting a rebellion…’

John sighed; this was going to tie him up into logical knots.

‘Then give me permission to go…’

‘But you haven’t reached an agreement…’

‘I’ll stay’ said George, who had sidled up beside them, ‘I’ll complete the agreement with the agora’

John looked and him and had to force himself not to shake his head vehemently. You’ll be here forever he thought.

No!’ commanded Sophia, her face darkening, ‘I don’t even know who you are…’

John almost teleported away, without permission, just to escape, but he took a deep breath instead.

‘This is George Blackthorne’

Sophia looked puzzled

‘George from Blackshorn? Where is that?’

‘No – I’m Councillor “Blackthorne”, it’s my family name…’

Sophia smiled.

‘Ah yes – named after a flower, just like the poorer elves do in Visneoria’

‘More a shrub than a flower’ muttered George.

John glared at him. He attempt to refocus the conversation.

‘George used to be president 0f the council…’

Sophia frowned, suspicious.

‘So – why isn’t he president now?’

‘I retired’ explained George, helpfully.

‘I see’ said Sophia, ‘so how long did you lead the coven?’

‘Seventeen year’ George said, proudly.

Sophia shrugged

‘That is no time at all; certainly not enough to do the job properly’

John could hear a clock ticking in his head. There wasn’t time for this.

‘It’s long enough… and I must go, regardless’

‘I forbid it’ announced the elf queen.

‘You have no power over me’ countered John.

‘I’m warning you not to provoke me’ she growled

She whispered something under her breath and the air around them seemed momentarily colder.  John could tell that a spell had been cast, but he had no idea what its effect might be. He put off teleporting away for the time being – just in case.  He shifted position so that they were facing each other directly. He intoned ‘accumulate’ and clutched his hand around the heavy ball of energy that the spell was forming.

Sophia glanced at him and then immediately shifted. Her olive skin transmogrified into deep black fur. 

They stood opposite each other – the leopard ready to pounce, the witch holding the sphere of force in his hand, ready to hurl it.

George stepped out between them. His care-lined face had gained a new set of creases.

‘Your Majesty’ he said, bowing low, ‘President Ismay is going to attend to a direct threat to your domains. An enemy of great strength approaches. Fear for your realm has blunted his manners’

The big cat waited.   

‘Have you heard of the Sipia spell, your highness?’ asked George

The panther’s eyes narrowed, she shook her beautiful, sleek, head.

‘It’s a necromantic spell, developed by evil witches, the ones who wish to destroy the world, our common enemies’

He paused for just a moment.

‘It drains the life energy out of a person and channels it into the spell caster. It is as unlike a mage spell as can be imagined, and for that reason I suspect that you and your fellow mages will have no defence against it’

The need to speak forced Sophia back into her elven form.

‘And you have some defence?’ she asked

‘Yes, we do’

‘And these witches; do you think that they would mean my subjects harm?’

‘Undoubtedly’

‘Then teach me the spell’

‘No said George, blandly.

‘What?’ Thundered Queen Sophia, ‘how dare you defy me’

George smiled sweetly.

‘Let President Ismay go, and then…  I’ll teach you’

Sophia looked for a moment as if she were about to shift back into leopard form: briefly her teeth appeared worryingly pointy, her skim oddly furry. She didn’t change. Instead she hissed at John.

‘Go then – if you must…’

John paused for a moment.

‘There’s something I need to know’ he said

‘What?’ snapped Sophia

‘Is that Huw’s baby?’ he asked, pointing to her bump

Huw smiled proudly..

‘Yes – it is’ he said

Sophia forced herself to change her demeanour and tone.

‘She’s a symbol…’

‘Of what?’ asked George, softly

‘Of the union between elves and humans. She will represent a new world’

Ruled by you and your heirs, I assume, thought John. George and he shared a glance. John sighed – more bloody problems. It was time to tackle the most immediate one. He fixed his mind on Hardacre’s trace

‘Amranta’ he said, and disappeared.