Part 1 Here.
Delia brushed her hands off over the plate and walked to stand in front of the door. Kaya did the same and stood beside her.
“So yesterday, I was blasting the castle gate but needed a shield to protect against a back lash, so I stopped to build a shield and you did your best to hold the blast. That didn’t work, or we wouldn’t be in this mess. I suggest you build a shield and I attack the door.” Delia glanced at her friend.
Kaya nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” She drew a deep breath and held out her hands. “Ready.”
Delia could feel her hands sweat. She brushed them off on her pant legs and took her own deep breath, turning on her magical sight. The yellow lines were there, same as on the gate. Would Iyuno build as strong a protection spell on this interior door as on the castle gate? Nothing to do but find out.
She raised her hands and used the spell Kaepli had taught them. “It’s still not right. Same as yesterday. I need to modify it. I’m not sure how.”
“You’re so strong I forget you’re new to magic.” Kaya nodded. “Inch your spell one direction or another. That’s what Master Kaepli taught us. As a mage, we’d have to do just that, discover how to make or break a spell. This is that time.”
Delia nodded, but she had no confidence in her ability to do what Kaya said. How do I move the spell one way or another? She tried adding a color to her spell, like an aura, but aside from a spark or two, nothing happened.
“You can do it, Delia,” Kaya encouraged her.
Delia could feel her breath tremble with the effort. Master Kaepli had made it look so easy. She tried applying more power, but other than her magical force increasing in brightness, that didn’t work either. She could feel drops of sweat start to trickle down her temples. What else could she do?
She heard voices on the other side of the door. “They’ve heard us, somehow.”
“To be expected. We’re generating a lot of power. One of them was sure to notice.”
Delia continued. What did she mean by inch the spell. Actual movement? Despite the noise from the hall, she decided to try and move one of the spell threads. She picked one at the center and eased it out of the golden lines. Her green spell began to vibrate.
“That might be it, Delia. Keep going.”
Delia took another ragged breath. This was harder to do than anything she’d done before. She moved another thread, then another. She panted with the effort, but she could see the golden lines begin to vibrate as well. She was on the right track! Delia had begun to move another of her threads when she and Kaya were knocked across the room with a magical blast. She and Kaya landed against the wall. Delia felt like soggy bread as three of the black elves burst into the room, Nethene behind them. He stared at them as they helped each other to their feet.
Nethene tucked his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe. “I told Uncle you’d try to break the spell.”
Delia wiped the sweat from her temples. “You didn’t think we’d just docilly wait here, did you?” Her words sounded more defiant than she felt.
Nethene snorted. “Of course not. I expected you to try something. Now we’ll have to separate you. A bother for us,” he sneered, “unpleasant for you.” He waved his hand. Three more elves came into the room. “Take them to the cells.”
“No!” Delia cried out.
Kaya raised her chin. “You will not win, traitor.”
Nethene laughed as the black elves led them away.
Delia ended up in a subterranean cell, no windows, and with only one of the magic lights she found in her father’s palace. At least she wasn’t in total dark. She had no way of knowing where Kaya was put. There was a straw pallet on a rope wooden bedstead with one blanket. A bucket in the corner served as the toilet and a rickety wooden stand held a pitcher with a horn mug and a round of bread. Delia lay down on the bed. She was so tired, she didn’t know how she’d managed to walk all the way down here.
Tears came to her eyes and leaked down her face onto the rough mattress. She already missed Kaya. What was Iyuno’s plan? Was she to be traded somehow? What about Kaya? She dashed the tears away, a sudden anger filling her. Was this what she was now? A pawn? It was worse than when she was a slave. At least there she’d had some freedom of movement, of thought. The tears came again, and she cried herself to sleep.
Thank You! Come back next week for Part 32.
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