Author’s note: Hi again. Remember how I said I’d try really hard not to be late again? That was before I had to work overtime for almost the entire month of September, including weekends (which I never do). On the down side, the time I would have usually worked on the chapter was taken up by working on the Arlington Public Library’s computer network. On the up side, the Library has a nice new computer network. For those of you who were kept waiting, I’m really sorry.

Chapter 10

The entity that would have called itself Maxwell Eugene Duvall, had it been thinking more clearly, and had it been able to stand the name Eugene, was flying through cold darkness. Almost no light penetrated the thick clouds over the moonless sky. The hunter didn’t care. It liked the darkness.

The hunter was following a faint trail, unsure of what, exactly, it was hunting. It knew that the great masses ahead and below would lead it closer to its prey, for they had a similar spoor. It also knew, vaguely, that the prey was important, not food. More than that, however, the hunter knew it was getting hungry. Flying was hard. The effort of creating the wings it now sailed upon had drained the creature greatly.

There was food on the dark bulks below. The hunter could smell it on the breeze. Some of the food was wounded and bleeding. The blood smell was rich and heady. Somehow though, the hunter could not summon the urge to attack. Its other errand, the prey it knew it had to find but couldn’t eat, consumed all its immediate attention.

With hunger gnawing at its belly the hunter flew on. It knew that dawn would be coming soon, and that the sun was not its ally.

* * *

Elliot’s laboratory was deep within the industrial bowels of Covenshire. Factories and warehouses loomed up on all sides, with shanties built up against the walls like fungus eating at the roots of a tree. It was not the safest of neighborhoods. Of course no one was going to be foolish enough to attack a coach bearing the Covenshire arms. Elliot liked the environs because he had ready access to most of the resources he needed for his work.

"Your friend lives here?" Gabriel asked. Sabrina had lapsed into petulant silence, so Derdrie had awakened her toy.

"Yes. Some of his research is aimed at improving the lot of the poor." That was true enough, in a way. "He makes his home among them. We’ll be perfectly safe. No one here would dare harm a friend of Elliot."

As they drew closer to Elliot’s sanctum, Derdrie began to doubt the wisdom of bringing Gabriel. There would be things within the laboratory that "Crystal" would not likely condone. Derdrie drew upon her Magick to strengthen the glamours she’d woven around the boy. They needed periodic work anyway. The cursed Sword of Glass ate at Derdrie’s spells constantly, trying to free its master. Or perhaps Gabriel himself was resistant. Whatever the case, Derdrie had not made as much progress as she would have liked at subverting his will.

As the carriage approached the factory gates, one of Elliot’s servants shambled out of the darkness to meet it. The creature was wearing a long coat and broad brimmed hat, both covered in soot and grime. The raiment did not conceal the unnatural, jerky gait with which it moved, or the pasty complexion and faintly glowing eyes. As the servitor got closer, its true nature became more apparent.

"Holy God..." Sabrina gasped, shaken from her sullen silence.

Derdrie smiled. "They’re very interesting, aren’t they?"

Sabrina’s head was turned. Derdrie could imagine her eyes peering through the milky, translucent flesh, trying to pick out the bones inside.

"What are they?"

Derdrie didn’t answer immediately. First she had to reinforce the spells around her pet. "They’re wax people. All that’s left of the originals is the bones and a bit of the brains. Elliot’s process reanimates them. He initially imagined them as a resource to free the common man from menial labor. There’s been some resistance from the people, though, so they’re not widely deployed."

The wax man opened the gate slowly. Elliot’s process gave them immense strength, boundless endurance, and total loyalty, but not much in the way of dexterity. Elliot promised future improvements, but Derdrie hadn’t seen much progress.

"You people disgust me," Sabrina sneered.

The driver pulled forward, through the gates. More of the wax men, and women, were employed inside. Sabrina looked on, horrified and fascinated.

Elliot was waiting to meet the carriage at the inner gate. He opened the door himself to greet Derdrie. "Big sister, such a pleasure."

"Charming, as always," Derdrie replied.

Elliot was little changed. His thin frame was hidden under a black suit and frock coat. Goggles with green lenses were pushed up on his wide forehead. A greasy smear followed the frames, marking where his fingers had been. His thinning hair was a wild mass barely held in check by the wide leather goggle straps. He reached out his hand for Derdrie, and she allowed him to help her from the carriage.

Gabriel followed. Sabrina did not. It was a futile gesture, since two of Elliot’s wax men clambered inside to drag her out bodily.

The interior of Elliot’s sanctum was no more attractive than the gloomy exterior, though it was much more interesting. The old factory was three stories tall. Outer rooms had been converted into storage, as well as being hardened against attack. Inside, the factory had been converted into a series of tiers, all overlooking the central work area. Most of the room was taken up by Elliot’s personal Foundry, but every other available space had been filled with his inventions. Presumably, he had a bed chamber somewhere. If so, Derdrie had no desire to see it. The only sounds were the buzzing and hiss of Elliot’s constructions. His servants made no sound whatsoever. The path ahead was obscured by a persistent greenish mist. Without Elliot to guide, Derdrie would have been hopelessly lost.

"She’s the one?" Elliot asked over his shoulder.

"No, darling. She’s just some other Prime Worlder who was curious about your work."

Elliot stopped, utterly crestfallen. "Truly? But you promised."

"Idiot. Of course she’s the one." Derdrie sneered. "Which of these is the machine?"

With the chance to show off, Derdrie’s brother was suddenly ecstatic. "This way, both of you. All three of you, I mean. Not that you have much choice, miss." He led them through the maze of brass, steel, and glass, coming at last to a machine near the center of the complex on the ground floor. The heat of the Foundry put up a spongy wall of humidity.

The Oracle Machine, or, as Elliot termed it, the Aetheric Psychic Attunement Chamber, was a tank about nine feet tall, and perhaps four feet wide. The thick glass was held in place by riveted brass, surrounded by a coil of copper tubing. Arcs of blue electricity followed the coils and flashed through the cylinder, boiling the green fluid inside. A medusa’s mane of tubes fed into the chamber at various points, leading to other points within the factory, or to the massive Foundry.

Elliot’s wax men pulled Sabrina toward an iron stairway leading to the top of the device. They begin tearing at her clothing, clumsily, but with immense strength. The girl’s resistance was spirited, but ultimately futile. She was too proud, or too resigned to call for help.

"Is that really necessary?" Derdrie asked, bemused.

Elliot’s answer was deeply disappointing, but interesting. "Yes…yes it is." He seemed a bit distracted by the presence of more healthy female flesh than he’d possibly seen in his lifetime, but he continued. "It’s her clothing. Prime Worlders tend to have artificial fibers in their clothes. The liquid aether in the chamber will get quite hot. Since it will be attuned to the girl’s body, it won’t harm her. The boiling fibers of her clothes might, though. At the very least they’ll interfere with the attunement."

"Oh."

The ghoulish creatures were almost done with their work. One of them reached up and pulled a metallic device from the recesses of the machine. Sabrina renewed her struggles as the wax servant tried to fit the apparatus over her head. The device was like a mask with locking clasps to hold it in place. A number of tubes connected to the mask connected to cylinders and electrical components behind the main tank.

As the wax men started tightening the mask into place, Sabrina’s nerve finally broke. She struck out like a dervish, trying to get free. Her cries were muffled by the mass of metal and rubber. "Gabriel, help me." She had time to cry out only once before something cut off her speech. After that, she made outraged and frightened noises, but no more words.

Elliot, oblivious, went on with his explanations. "The headpiece serves two functions. Primarily, it targets the key nerve centers with aether resonating to frequencies that will enhance her native psychic abilities, stimulating neural growth of the brain regions governing her extrasensory perception."

"Won’t that adversely influence the bits that govern her normal perception?" Derdrie knew the girl could still hear her, despite the mask.

"Naturally, some sacrifices are to be expected." Elliot answered sheepishly. "The brain only has a limited capacity to process information. By shifting those resources to a more effective region, we will have to give up less important input."

"She’ll go blind."

"Um... Yes. There might be other effects as well. However, the end result is well worth a minor inconvenience."

"Naturally," Derdrie agreed. "What’s the second part?"

"What? Oh yes. The other function of the mask is to provide a supply of air. The process takes several hours, at least. The Aether itself is harmless, but it does nothing to maintain life. Rather a problem for some of the longer procedures."

The wax men had finished their work. They shoved Sabrina into the tank. She let out a frightened squeal as they started closing a lid over the tank.

Elliot made his way over to a control panel, brushing some papers out of his way. A wax girl in a maid’s uniform stiffly retrieved the fallen documents.

"From here," Elliot explained, "I will monitor the flow of aether through the chamber. These potentiometers allow me to control the flow of electrical current, which will be directed in three fields: one across her whole body to transform her nervous system into a receiving antenna, one into her eyes to re-route her optic nerves, and the last one to attune her brain to the new sensory input we’ll be creating."

Derdrie found a seat from which to watch the show. "Sounds painful."

"Some discomfort is to be expected. I’m relatively certain that no major damage will result." Elliot started manipulating his controls.

Lights within the factory dimmed as the generators whined under the new burden of the Oracle Machine. Green radiance poured out of the glass cylinder as the liquefied aether inside was excited by electrical current.

Based upon the tortured scream that echoed from within the aether chamber, Sabrina would have disputed Elliot’s assessment.

Derdrie was distracted from her musings by a ruddy light flaring behind her. The Sword of Glass was once again agitated. Gabriel’s hand tightened on the hilt absently. In his other hand, he was holding a metal pendant that must have fallen from the platform. Derdrie remembered seeing it around Sabrina’s neck.

Derdrie frowned in concentration. She could feel the threads of the web she’d woven around Gabriel being pulled to the breaking point. Holding them fast took all her skill. "Put that away, Gabriel." she managed to say.

Her slave complied, laying the wolf-head medallion carefully on a table. "Are you sure this is the right thing?" he asked.

Derdrie uncoiled from her seat and circled around behind Gabriel. Her arms encircled him and she laid her head up against his back. Physical contact made the Sorcery easier.

"It’s the only thing we can do, Angel Eyes," she purred.

Gabriel’s body remained tense under her embrace. "You never used to call me that..."

"What?"

"Angel Eyes. You never used to call me that."

This was getting serious. Derdrie moved her hands down to Gabriel’s sword belt. She knew better than to touch the hilt, but the clasp of the belt was free game. "I guess I never realized how beautiful your eyes were until I went for so long without seeing them." She let his belt drop free, and gently freed his fingers from the sword hilt, receiving a mild burn for her trouble. "I know you’re worried about Sabrina. I am too. This is the only way to free her from Gwenivere’s spells."

The Sword fell to the ground with a dull clatter. Derdrie tightened her arms across Gabriel’s ribs, caressing his taut chest with her hands even as she strengthened the shackles on his mind. Beyond his shoulders, she could see Sabrina writhing in pain as the aether surrounding her boiled and crackled.

* * *

Somewhere in an alien sky, Max was confused. He’d been so certain of his course. Now he wasn’t even fully sure of where he was, much less where he was going. All he was sure of was a ravenous hunger. The winds were full of unfamiliar smells, but there were familiar ones as well. One of the spoors told him that the easement of his hunger was nearby.

He circled toward the ground.

* * *

As rains of blood went, this one wasn’t so bad. The blood didn’t come down in sheets. Rather, it dripped down in rivulets that followed the limbs of the trees and the masonry of the buildings.

Jason ignored the lifestyle implications of the fact that he could judge the relative severity of rains of blood and returned his attention to matters at hand. Kildare was standing under an awning with Colwynn beside him, head resting on his shoulder. Jason’s sister looked so bedraggled with her hair matted to her scalp by blood. She looked so tired. The day had pressed her nearly to her limits.

Jason ignored the lifestyle implications of the fact that his little sister was clinging to Lord Kildare like a half drowned puppy and returned his attention, with difficulty, to matters at hand.

"Dominick is dead." Jason tried to keep the note of pride out of his voice, but not very hard. "He couldn’t have done it anyway. Do you think the old man is here himself?"

"Unlikely. Alistair might have had the skill, or at least enough to do it with help. Elysia could have done it as well. I believe it would have been her. The changes in the Domain are more in keeping with her character."

"They’ve been playing us all along, never quite doing what we expected." Jason tried to wipe some of the blood from his face, but his hands were just as bloody. "What are they doing?"

Colwynn lifted her head, "They attacked the Simonites. The temple wasn’t valuable, not as a military conquest."

"I doubt they’re even trying to hold it," Jason agreed. "Unless old Mordakai knows some ways through the mists that I’ve never heard of, he couldn’t have enough troops here."

"There wasn’t even a Foundry there," Colwynn added. "Since that’s what they’re stealing..."

"They’re not after the Foundries themselves," Kildare said. "They’re using them for another purpose. Not just to move troops, or we would have seen a greater force."

"What, then?" Jason was genuinely interested. He even forgot to lace his question with sarcasm.

"The answer was likely in the Simonite library. Your sister believed they were after the Simeon Grimories."

Ancient texts were more Gwenivere’s department than Jason’s, but he knew something of the Grimories. Simeon had been an ancient Wizard and Sorcerer. It was rare for anyone to master both Arts. Some accounts had Simeon as a powerful Gifted, as well. Almost all of them agreed that he went mad at some point. The Grimories were the chronicles of his travels and researches. Supposedly, they were full of rantings about a world as alien to the Netherlands as the Netherlands were to the mundane world.

"Alright, so what’s in the Grimories?" Somehow, Jason was sure Kildare would know.

"I don’t really know."

Colwynn looked at least as surprised as Jason felt.

The Lord Knight went on. "I’ve never had opportunity to read them. There are very few complete copies. Even marginal ones are by no means common. I’ve seen two volumes. Neither contained much in the way of incantations or formulae. I only know of one place we can go to find the volumes Lord Coventry has read."

Jason really didn’t like the sound of that.

* * *

Derdrie watched the aether bubble and froth within the glass cylinder. After Elliot finally finished whatever he was doing with the controls, the two wax men on top opened the latches holding the great, brass lid in place. Aether spilled out in a greenish gold cloud, falling to the ground and cascading across the floor in eddies and currents.

The two servitors pulled the inert form of Sabrina Lucas from the pool. The young Prime Worlder was too weak to offer any resistance. The wax men dropped her unceremoniously to the platform, where her still wet body dripped liquid back into the tank. When they removed the facemask, she was seized by hyperventilation, lungs clawing at the air.

"If she lives through the next few minutes, I believe we’ll have a success," Elliot almost crowed. "My first." He immediately fell to searching amongst piles of equipment, emerging with a pair of goggles connected to something chunky and oblong by a mass of metal linked cables.

Gabriel was still calm. He had made no move to retrieve the Sword. Derdrie had been forced to put him to "sleep" again, wrapping him so tightly in Glamour that he was no longer experiencing the world around him. That kept him under her control, but made him nearly useless.

The girl was coughing now, and trying to sit up. Her coordination was off, though. She flopped helplessly, nearly falling from the platform before one of the wax men caught her roughly.

"No, no, don’t let her fall. If she suffered any damage to the spine, all my work would come to nothing." Elliot had rushed up to the platform, and now bent over to examine his subject, pulling various probes from the mechanism in his hands and touching them to the girl’s head.

"So, how have we done?" Derdrie asked.

"I’ll show you. Let’s just get a table cleaned off."

As soon as Elliot spoke, another wax man emerged from the shadows and began cleaning off an exam table. This one was more skeletal than the others. Its movements were jerky and unsure. The waxy coating over the bones was dry and cracked at the joints. By the time it was finished moving boxes and bins of equipment, the other two had reached the floor carrying Sabrina. The girl was still twitching within their grip, but her breathing had stabilized.

"Gabriel?" Sabrina’s voice was weak and raspy. Derdrie saw flecks of blood around the edges of her mouth. "I can’t see."

Derdrie kept Gabriel where he was, but she herself got up to go see the girl on the table. When she got there, Elliot was draping a thick, linen sheet over the girl’s naked body. Derdrie gave him an arch look.

"Well, I thought... There’s no reason she has to be..." Elliot withered under her gaze. "I didn’t want to look at her...things. It’s very distracting."

Derdrie laughed, and looked down at Sabrina’s face. The girl’s eyes had no pupils or irises, only blank whites.

Sabrina sensed a presence near her face and tried to reach up a hand to meet it. "Gabriel? Can you hear me?" There was a fragile layer of control over a great deal of fear.

"Gabriel is busy," Derdrie said, catching the girl’s hand in a cold grip. "This was all terribly amusing, but it’s a waste of effort unless she sees visions. How do we induce the Oracle state?"

"Quite, quite, yes. These readings are very promising. I think very soon she’ll be ready for the chair."

"Chair?" Sabrina’s control was breaking down.

"The other part of the Oracle Machine?"

"Well, really it’s two different machines. The Attunement Chamber was the first component in a larger system. The Aetheric Psychic Conductivity Array is the other part. I studied a number of Oracles throughout the realms, looking for commonalties. The key seemed to be a receptive psychic state, which the Conductivity Array provides."

"Fascinating," Derdrie snapped, running low on patience. "How soon?"

"Tonight. Why don’t you take your friend out for dinner and come back?" Derdrie couldn’t be sure if Elliot was being genuinely polite, or just wanted to get her out of his lab. She took a certain amount of satisfaction in the degree to which she intimidated him.

She looked over at Gabriel. He was standing where she’d left him, but his attention kept wandering to the Sword. "Yes, I think that might be wise. We shall return later."

* * *

Kildare dispatched his Knights to various positions, spreading his forces both to more easily monitor the Coventrys, and to make it impossible to for a single strike to cripple their numbers. The airships had changed everything. Though it seemed that they had withdrawn from the field, the Knights still had to plan for them.

With the small body he kept by him, the Lord Knight prepared to return to the Chapter House. "Will you accompany us, Lord Valentine?"

Jason wiped at the blood on his face, which was now drying into a smelly, crusty mass. "You have running water?"

The return trip was somber. Without the Dutchman’s Foundry, the Undercity was devastated. What tunnels were left were unsafe, and didn’t connect in the ways they used to. Colwynn had descended into the tunnels once, but declared that she couldn’t Find any way through them. Kildare’s party was forced to follow the streets, where the Fog was stained red, and smelled of hot salt.

No sentries guarded the door. Kildare had dispatched all his troops to engage the Coventrys. One of his Knights entered first to see that nothing dangerous lurked inside.

The young Knight returned after a few long moments. "The scouts have returned from the monastery, my lord," he said. "Sir Kail, as well."

Kildare nodded curtly and crossed into the chapter house. "Kail, report."

Jason followed, allowing Colwynn to enter before him. He saw Sir Kail leaning against a table.

The Knight looked shaken and pale. He looked up at his leader and gulped. "My Lord?"

"What happened?" Kildare prompted.

Kail nodded. "I’m sorry, my lord. Sir Allan was wounded. One of the Skyrunners attacked us. She wouldn’t stop. I had to kill her. By the time it was over..."

"She was sent to distract you, to keep you from being able to deliver your warning."

Jason shrugged out of his duster, looking for a basin. "That doesn’t make sense. The Skyrunners were against the Coventrys."

"True," Kildare allowed. "Another mystery."

"There’s only one way we’re going to solve them all," Jason said.

From the next chamber, Colwynn’s voice rang out, "Bella!"

"What?"

"Gwenivere’s horse. She was barely more than a colt when I saw her."

Curious, Jason followed the sound of her voice. He found her standing in front of a white mare. A simplified version of the Valentine badge had been branded into the horse’s flank.

Colwynn moved to touch the animal, but it shied away. "What’s wrong, girl?" she asked. "Where did you find her?"

One of the Circle Knights entered the room through a side entrance. "She was in the Simonite’s fasthold, milady. The two we rescued had hidden in the stable."

Kildare came up behind Jason. "What did you find there?"

"Besides the priest and the nun, my lord, we found little. The library and the Vaults were emptied. The walls were blasted. The Simonites fought nearly to a man. We can’t begin to know what the Coventrys took, or what the monks destroyed to keep it from the wrong hands."

"Unfortunate." Kildare turned his back.

"That settles it, Kildare," Jason said. "It’s time to find Gwenivere. She knows what was going on. She can probably figure out what Mordakai is planning. Anything else is just marking time."

"You’re right."

Jason thought he’d misheard. "What?"

"I agree. We need to call upon Colwynn’s Gift. Colwynn, Find us a way into Covenshire."

"Find Gwenivere," Jason clarified.

Kildare shook his head, dismissing that. "Not yet. She has almost certainly been captured by the Coventrys, and we know of only one place they hold on our side. It is almost certain that Mordakai has her. Due to the limitations of Finding, we will not know what we’re in for if we go to her directly. First we must discover what we’re up against."

"She could die in the mean time," Jason challenged.

"And we could die if we make a single misstep. Then who would save her?"

Jason glared, hands clenched into fists.

"So which should I do?" Colwynn asked.

"Find us the fastest way into Covenshire," Jason said at last.

Colwynn nodded and assumed the pose she usually took when she used her powers. After a minute, she looked up and pointed. "That way. The road. I think it’s pretty close."

"We will leave within the hour," Kildare said, falling into the pattern of command with an ease that Jason hated. "I will arrange things here. You two had best prepare yourselves."

"Alright," Colwynn agreed. "I’ll go get a saddle."

Bella snorted and reared away again.

"Silly thing, we’ll be going to find Gwenivere," Colwynn almost giggled, reaching out to stroke the mare’s nose.

This time, the horse didn’t resist.

Jason was reminded of something. "I’ll be back. There’s something I want to pick up, if it’s still there."

* * *

Sabrina had been placed in the chair by the time Derdrie returned. Elliot had found clothing for her; a linen shift similar to the one Father’s body slave always wore. Somehow, she thought that he hadn’t dressed her himself. She was also wearing her little pendant again. That, Derdrie thought, Elliot might have done. He was a sentimental idiot. She seemed to be unconscious now, chest rising and falling regularly, but otherwise motionless.

The girl was strapped into place with broad bands of leather at the ankles, throat, and waist. Her hands were trapped within ovoid shells of gleaming metal. On either side of the chair a pillar rose up to about eight feet of height. One was black, the other, white. Both were coiled around with gold tubing and studded with irregular protrusions. Globes of aether filled crystal topped the pillars. Based on the power cables snaking back toward the Foundry, the chair was not going to be a comfortable one.

Derdrie was glad she’d decided to leave Gabriel waiting outside. "Is it ready?" she asked.

Elliot was positively beaming. "Yes, yes, just a few moments more." He finished attaching a fitting to something and walked around to join Derdrie. "Let me get the generator running, and you’ll be able to ask any questions you want."

"Very good," a voice rasped from behind. "Very good indeed. I have a great many questions."

Derdrie turned, "Father?"

"Sir?" Elliot echoed, though if he was as dismayed as she was, he hid it well. "It’s good to see you."

Anastasia pushed Mordakai further into the room in a wicker wheelchair. Derdrie was surprised that he would willingly let any of the family see his weakened condition.

"I’m sure. Now, if you’re all ready, let’s see if the effort has been worth the expense."

Elliot, at Mordakai’s nod, pulled a lever. Dials came alive with light, and a low whine invaded the chamber. Arcs of electricity danced up and down the pillars and leapt into the air, only to fly into the opposite globes, or crash into the round manacles.

Sabrina let out one scream as the current burned through her, then she settled into a waking trance. She sat perfectly straight, blind eyes staring straight ahead.

"Girl, are you awake?" Elliot asked.

"I am." Sabrina’s voice sounded completely different, melodious and flat at the same time.

"Good, good. You have to answer our questions," Elliot said. Turning to his guests, he explained, "The aetheric currents bring her to a hypnotic trance state. Her will is subsumed by her Gift, which exists to convey insight."

"Shut up, Elliot." Mordakai Coventry wasted no pleasantries. "Girl, what will I find in the Box of Sorrows?"

"What you are looking for."

"I don’t understand. Explain yourself," Mordakai ordered.

Sabrina Lucas sat, impassive. Derdrie sensed no defiance in the girl. She sensed no emotions at all.

"What did you mean?" Mordakai growled.

"You will find what you think you will find."

"No more riddles, girl." Mordakai’s voice betrayed impatience. "What being is imprisoned in the Box of Sorrows?"

"The youngest of the eldest."

Derdrie had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but her father seemed satisfied. He smiled smugly and continued, "In what order should I open the Seals?"

Again, the girl didn’t speak. It was as if she didn’t hear.

As the silence stretched out, Elliot grew more agitated. He fiddled with his controls, eliciting another scream, but no more answers.

"I don’t understand, Father," he almost whined. "I think she only answers direct questions, but I don’t know why she stopped. Why aren’t you answering?" he demanded of the girl.

"Three to one, only three to one."

"Wha...?" Before Elliot could complete his next question, Derdrie slapped a hand over his mouth hard enough to draw blood.

"Don’t," she said. "I think I understand. Ask her which order to break the seals."

Mordakai smiled thinly. "Very clever, daughter. Yes, Elliot. Ask her in which order the seals must be broken."

Elliot gulped, but followed orders. "In what order must Father break the seals on the Box of Sorrows in order to open it?" He wasn’t terribly creative, but he did have good attention to detail.

The girl seemed to consider his request. "The Seals must be broken in the order they were placed."

"Which was?"

"From eldest to youngest, save the youngest, as it must be, so it was."

Again, the girl’s answers didn’t make much sense, but now they stirred a memory, something in the books Father had been reading. Derdrie was certain that he knew the answer.

"Good, now your questions, daughter?"

"What will you give me for them, Father? These may be the only three I ever get."

"I’ll let you keep your toy outside, for a start. Besides, I only need two of yours. You may use the third as you will."

"Very well, Papa. What should I ask?"

"First, I need to know how to focus the spells."

"Sabrina, my father is going to break the seals on the Box of Sorrows. How can he focus the energy of the Foundries he’s taken to do so?"

"The seals are as old as the world. Only something older will break them."

Derdrie looked over at her father, waiting for the next question."

"Excelent. I understand. Now ask her if I will prevail."

Derdrie was shocked. That was the first time in her life that her father had ever revealed any doubt. Even when the Valentines and their allies had beaten the family back to Covenshire and cut it off from the rest of the world, Mordakai had maintained that he would eventually triumph. She gulped quietly before conveying the question. "Will my father prevail?"

Sabrina answered almost immediately, but when she did, Derdrie didn’t completely understand. It seemed that the Oracle’s voice was split into two parts. "He will," one voice said, while at the same time, "He will not."

The strange answer gave Mordakai pause as well. He regarded the girl carefully. "You will not explain."

She gave no answer, but twitched in pain at the electricity flowing through her fragile frame.

"We’ll have to stop soon," Elliot explained. "In a minute she’ll start bleeding."

"Then I’ll have to hurry." Having said that, Derdrie didn’t ask her third question immediately. There were many things she wanted to know, but she didn’t necessarily want her father or Elliot to know any of them. Finally, she had it. "If the worst should happen, and Father should die, who will rule in Covenshrie?"

"The ruler of this Realm will emerge from your womb."

That was... curious. Derdrie always took precautions. Still, if the girl could be trusted, that was one way to ensure her safety. Alistair would support the legitimate heir. Derdrie could use him to eliminate Elysia. If she could get the endorsement of her father, Derdrie could position herself to be the virtual ruler of Covenshire. Unlike some of the others, she had few ambitions beyond the borders. She looked speculatively in the direction where Gabriel Rider waited.

Mordakai looked up at her from his chair. "I am not planning to die any time soon, daughter."

"Of course not, Papa," Derdrie answered. "But it’s nice to know all the same."

* * *

Max touched ground. The sun was rising, though weakly, through the clouds. Max knew he’d have to find cover. But first he was so hungry. His wings retracted. On the ground he would no longer need them. He ran along sometimes on two legs, sometimes on four. Smells saturated the air around him: sulfur, coal, the filth of a large city, and life, so much warm, pulsing life. There was another smell as well, one that nagged at his mind. Unconsciously, he adjusted his course to bring him closer to that smell. Along the way, he stopped to taste some of the life of this place. He found it pale, cooler than he wanted, and perhaps a little thin.

He sheltered from the sun in a house he found along the way. The previous inhabitants weren’t going to be using it anymore.

To be continued...

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Changeling Seed

A Novel of the Side World

The First of the Valentine Chronicles

Copyright 2000 David Goodner

Continued from Chapter 9

Changeling Seed Archive