《The Chase (need help with title)》


 Chapter 1 Life

    The walnut tree that had sprung up in the time of Yirva, conceived in a war and carrying a veil as old as its roots, now, with thousands of rings within its thick bark was reaching with its fingerlike branches for the stars in the night. And as the gentle summer breeze with a soft breath silently played with its green leaves, there came a cry from the cottage under its vast canopy.


    It was a small wooden cottage with only two rooms. Surrounded by the thick Kordok woods, it stood alone at the site where many centuries ago the village of Boderin could be found. On its left, almost right next to it sprung a shallow stream. A stream, that once provided water to the denizens of this village. The cottage was alone in this clearing surrounded by trees, but despite this, no one that happened to pass by could notice it. Made out of wood, it stood in the same color as the trunks of the trees behind it. The thick layer of ivy and all sorts of other vines that over the years took its walls as their support equated themselves with the low bushes that could be found here or there in between the broad trunks of Kordok. And the green fern leaves that covered it, perfectly matched the color of the toll canopy surrounding it. All this made it so it disappeared and be totally overlaid by its background.


    The few old ruins, with their owners dead and forgotten long ago, were the only thing that would give anyone a reason to think that this clearing in the middle of Kordok is anything more than some meadow.


    And precisely from that cottage came yells, cries and moans. A penetrating female voice ripped the silence of the night, and with sharp sobs cut the tranquility of the forest. Many birds had already left the brunches of the nearby trees and circled the meadow like vultures lacking the heart to land.


    Flickering rays of candle light came through a cracked door into a stifling room and joined the light of the only gauze lamp in the cottage. Even together the flames of the distant candle and the lone lamp hadn¡¯t the strength to completely end the darkness in the small room. They only managed to sharpen the shadows and to make it so the face of the woman on the bed seemed to be carved out of marble.


    On a rough wooden bed lay a girl drenched in sweat. Her skin was as white as lime, and her face was contorted in a grimace of pain. Blond locks of hair fell in disarray and half hid her big blue eyes. The simple white sleeping gown that was her only clothing was spilling over the bed and sticking to her body. Her arms were spread and they were hanging off the edges of the bed balled into tight fists. In both hands she was squeezing an amethyst and with all of her being she drew on their power. Even though both were long since emptied, she knew of their hidden power, so by no means could she allow herself to loosen her grip. The pain that in waves washed over her body, would spread and spread and steadily increase, and with it so would her cries. With every new tide of pain, her breath would catch for a moment in her throat before it would loose, escape and pull along another cry in the night. The agony was so all encompassing that the woman was almost unaware of the man sitting beside her. She almost didn¡¯t hear the words he was whispering, but with each of his touches, there was strength flooding her body, and she would greedily drank every drop of energy that he gave her, and for a moment she would relax, before a new wave of pain would drain her anew with a fresh cry.


    Regon asked himself where they were. Why were they not here yet, when they knew that today was the day? He tried to think harder on that, but he couldn¡¯t, he needed all of his concentration on what he was doing. He exhaled, closed his eyes and continued with his complicated sentences. With the tips of his fingers he again began rhythmically touching the women¡¯s skin. The foot, the calf, the knee¡­ a new breath, a new sentence, a new flow of energy. And again, the foot, the calf, the knee. His back muscles were quivering from the stiff position in which he was sitting, for not even he was sure how long. His mind was throbbing from the effort needed to get the energy to the needed spot all the way from the leg, but he dared not touch a spot closer to the issue. He didn¡¯t have great power, he always knew that. He had already accepted himself for what he is long ago, but now, when Fonelia was suffering in front of him, and he, because of his own powerlessness and ignorance couldn¡¯t offer her the help she needed, he caught himself beginning to wish again and hope that somehow, with some sort of miracle he would become a real wizard. That he, after some unexpected rush of understanding would begin to throw around real healing spells and that he would be able not only lend her brief gulps of power, but be able to truly help Fonelia. Even this small part of his consciousness that dared fantasize and hope, was hindering his spell. So, with the power of a will born from the love he felt for his wife, he suppressed it, he smothered it and destroyed it. He didn¡¯t need such a hope now. What he needed now were THEM, his friends, the witches, but where were they¡­ it seemed he couldn¡¯t focus his mid today no matter what he did¡­ it might be just tiredness, but maybe, just maybe there was something mystical in him, some sort of intuition trying to tell him something.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    He exhaled again, made a few signs with his fingers, whispered a new phrase and touched Fonelia again. He was doing this for about ten hours now. He again finished the cycle; he again whispered and bent his fingers in a new sign, again his gaze for a moment flicked out the window, as it did at this time of every spell since dusk time yesterday. He gazed again and tried in a single moment, in a single glance out a small window to encompass the whole of Bodrin. But like every previous attempt, he failed; nothing in the darkness of the night would tell him whether anyone arrived to Kordok. Maybe something happened to them¡­ No!- he cut himself off before he could even finish the thought, he couldn¡¯t let himself believe in something like that. They were their only hope if what they said was true. If¡­ his thoughts ceased. With a final loudest moan ceased Fonelia¡¯s cries as well, and a new sound filled the room. Laughter, uncontrollable laughter was coming out of his throat, and in his arms lay a small wrinkled form of a baby, still connected via his umbilical cord to his laughing mother. While with his prepared knife Regon for the first time separated the son from the mother, somewhere in the depths of his mind, behind all that happiness and excitement, there existed a grain of pride that his efforts were worth it. It seemed his spells succeeded. Despite her labors, Fonelia seemed all right, her chest worked overtime so she could calm herself, but even so, after all the pain she endured, there was a soft smile on her face. He let out a sigh of relief, everything seemed to be fine. Another bout of laughter was heard from both parents when the first cry announced the life of their son. Even though the biggest boulder had left his soul, with just one look out the window, he again withdrew within himself. He whispered spells and tried to expand his consciousness, to find his friends, but the ancient magic surrounding Kordok kept stopping him, again and again. With each new failure his smile grew, if he couldn¡¯t touch the outside, they must be all right. But if that was true, why were they still missing? He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he almost didn¡¯t register the laughter coming from the woman on the bed, he was almost unaware of the crying coming from the baby in her arms, but then something wrenched him out of this meditation of his. Something pulled him back to reality, something so unexpected that he had to blink to assure himself that he did see it, but when he opened his eyes again, all was as before. Everything looked like before, but Fonelia was no longer laughing, he hurriedly turned back to her and looked at her, he truly looked at her, not just some quick glace at her mouth to see if her teeth were hidden, but he took her all in. her shoulders were taught, even despite her enfeeblement she was flexing her whole body, the baby in her arms was pressed tightly to her breast, her eyes were wide, and her white face was so pale that she looked like some sort of shade. So it was true. That bright emerald light really for a moment illuminated the whole of Kordok. What could that mean? His eyes still stung from that blinding light, even though it disappeared in less than a moment. He exhaled and tried again, he closed his eyes and repeated the final sentence of his last spell and he braced himself, he couldn¡¯t get himself to release it, he feared it would succeed. All his blood left his face when he did succeed, his consciousness spread ever wider and didn¡¯t encounter a wall at all, the barrier he had come to expect was no longer there.


    Did this mean¡­ no, he couldn¡¯t let himself think like that. But if they were really dead, than how¡­ what could he do, a mare mage against an enemy that the tree of them feared¡­


    After another moment of despair he collected himself. He decided, he would do anything so his son could live.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go and prepare.¡±- he said to Fonelia and left the cottage.

 Chapter 2 Shelter

    SHELTER


    She did not run, her long travel made her legs feel like lead. Nor did she fly, her previous battle left her sapped of all strength, so now she couldn¡¯t use magic. She simply walked, step by step, one foot in front of the other. Actually, she wasn¡¯t in a hurry, that which she sought was very near.


    Dressed in a red velvet dress the woman looked magnificent. Although she did not wear a corset, the tight woolen vest she had on served the same purpose. Its five big hemispherical buttons seemed to only hold by a thread under the pressure of her bosom. Walking in the thick grassland at the precipice of the forest in front of her, her body was perfectly wrapped by the heavy fabric, so every curve of her body was put in stark relief. Although from the neck down she was wholly clad in velvet, the thing the red dress truly hid were her legs. So no one but her herself could know her strength, they could be quivering in fear or trembling in exhaustion, and yet no one could tell. Covered by a silk shawl, her hair akin to liquid copper flowed down her shoulders. A single lock of copper fell on her face and partially hid the determination in her red-brown eyes.


    Slowly she moved. With each contact of her feet with the ground she felt a heavy thud in her joints and bones, and a sharp pain in her muscles. Although no one could tell, her legs trembled under the red velvet. The girl kept trying to walk lightly as to avoid the pain, and yet it kept coming with each step. Her only consolation was the fact that she had almost reached her goal.


    But something from within wouldn¡¯t let her drop her guard. Something wasn¡¯t right. No matter how much she sought and hoped for a logical explanation, she couldn¡¯t fathom why the five shades from the day before were so deep in the territory of men and so far from Karvest. And yet she was sure that they were safe. Boderin, deep in Kordok, still clung firmly to the veil. The ancient cite that shielded the people who refused to go in to battle from the hungry gaze of the warring wizards, now, almost two millennia later, serves as a shelter for the most powerful wizard of this age, even though he is yet to be born. No, she had nothing to worry about, the oracle had told her of this place, so she could find it, Karvest lacked that benefit. Not even with his mightiest effort could he hope to breech the protection that lasted for seventeen centuries, not even now when its magic was fading.


    The magic surrounding Kordok was fadin, and if it weren¡¯t for the three descendants of the ancient coven, it would be utterly gone. But Boderin was in the middle of the forest, for it to be reached the magic had to cease fully. She knew all this and yet¡­


    What happened the other day ate at her calm. Why, why were they there¡­ A cold revelation drenched her like ice water. They were very close to Beacon¡­ Veda was in Beacon. So that¡¯s why they were so drained but happy, until that fight that day, she didn¡¯t even know that shades were capable of happiness and laughter.


    They weren¡¯t with him because they were on a mission¡­- she thought to herself petrified.


    ¡°He¡¯s trying to get to Regon¡­¡±- she whispered distressed when the revelation hit her anew.


    Too tired for a battle that was sure to come, she groped in her pockets for a forgotten gem that she knew wasn¡¯t there. All she found ere two empty rubies and a fistful of magic seeds. The moment she touched those tears dampened her face, and the face of Kaya flashed in her mind. Kaya¡¯s green eyes, greener than the emerald in one of her buttons stared intensely at her, with no emotion or judgment in them, just a perfect beauty. Her long black hair floated around her face blown by an inexistent wind. She was just a little girl. The woman wept harder, and a cry that one would be hard pressed to believe came from a human escaped her throat, and she again felt the fury she held for Karvest, and were Regon not in trouble, she felt ready to turn back and continue her hunt for him. Even without a grain of power in her, she felt that she had will enough to kill him with a thought. But her reason told he No! What she should do is protect Regon and his family. She had to get to him, while the last of the descendant was still alive. Since Veda was no more, she was almost certain that Serma was not among the living either. That left Yon. With all her willpower she prayed to gods known and unknown for them to help him, to at least give her time to get there before it¡¯s too late.


    She tried to fly so she could hurry, but her feet only floated a foot off the ground before falling heavily on the grass again.


    Without stopping for even a moment, she continued bravely battling her fatigue.


    The black of night shrouded the world around her in darkness, the few stars and weak moon almost gave off no light. But even in that kind of myopia, she knew where to go. The huge blackness in front of her, deeper than all the darkness of the night was the place she had to reach.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Suddenly something blinded her, and her heart jumped a beat. The dark wood in front of her, that huge blackness, was shining. It looked as if there was an enormous green sun rising before her. She no longer cared about her pain, she was now at a full run through the knee high grass.


    I¡¯m late.- she said to herself, I¡¯m late!- she cursed herself, I¡¯m late¡­- she cried on the inside, ¡°I¡¯m late¡­¡±- she whispered.


    The light died down and all was as it was before. The light died down and nothing was as it was before. Now she could feel them. A tear rolled down her cheek, now anyone could find them.


    After that moment of weakness, a new determination awoke in her eye. I will save him!!!- she ordered herself.


    Still in a race against time, the girl closed her eyes, just like her mother taught her. She hated herself for what she was about to do, she cursed her mother for what she taught her. She opened her mind and made a mental connection with the life that surrounded her. In the darkness of the night it couldn¡¯t be seen, but as she expected, she was surrounded by animals. From the field mice in the ground to eagles in the sky and from the hares in the meadow to the foxes in the woods in that moment she was one with them all. At that moment she hated herself the most. And as she spoke the words of death, just like her mother taught her, for a moment, just a moment, she hated her as well. And then her eyes widened. What little energy she had left, left her too. The girl had almost forgotten the way this spell always sapped her strength at this juncture, almost¡­ she again cursed her mother for teaching this curse to her. Although ten years ago, she remembered like it was yesterday the last time she used this magic, the first time she succeeded in it, the last day she saw her mother. Since then she had never used it. Actually she had never had a true need for it, but now when she did, when Regon was in danger, she reached for it without hesitation. The moment of enfeeblement quickly passed when a wave of death began to sharply sever her connection to all those animals. The girl died again and again, and with each new death, her body vivified. With each new death, she felt the last feelings of her prey. She felt the determination of the eagle who spotted the field mouse; the security that mouse futilely sought under a few blades of grass; the worry of a mother fox for her young; their hunger; the fear of the hare that deftly ran from her; the simple sence of existence that came from the numerous insects; the sense of peace of a herd of deer that finally found a safe place to spend the night and worst of all the final feeling of understanding that this is the end, a feeling that would flair up for a moment before it too ceased in the tide of death that to her brought power. Even though all of that was brief, lasting only a fraction of the eternity of a moment, for her it was akin to a decade long torture. She knew that she could not stop the dying, even if she cut short the spell, she knew that death would inevitably find any creature unlucky enough to be touched by her mind, the only thing that would change was that she would remain weary and powerless to help her friend. So she buckled up and bore the mental pain while she accumulated all the power her prey could give. Before that single moment was over, she cursed herself hundred times over, and when it was over, she for the first time felt a change in her power. For the first time after the battle she had the day before she felt whole again, confident and able to do anything. Finaly, with a sad smile on her face she thanked her mother for the knowledge she had bestowed upon her and the power it brought with it.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She thanked her prey.


    Unable to contain herself she reached for her power. In her mind she was right in front of the vast forest. The girl only blinked and found herself at that exact place. She was only vaguely aware of the flames that briefly surrounded her before she reached her destination. Even though her muscles still ached and she felt stiff, now full of energy she was confident and almost calm before the big battle that would sure to follow. She knew what she had to do and only prayed she had the time to do it. For a moment she closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Yes, she had been waiting for this day since she left home, but now everything was turned on its head. Up until now she was the hunter, up until now he was running from her, but now, when Regon was in danger, she couldn¡¯t let it come to a fight. The taught alone that she would have to let him leave¡­ alive, after all this time spent in a fruitless chase, hit her like a physical blow. She clenched her fists tighter, and her nails dug in to her flesh. She opened her eyes and calmed herself, after all this time she would have to let him live and just cross paths. Yes, that was something she couldn¡¯t easily accept, but she knew it had to be done. Because she didn¡¯t trust herself, she didn¡¯t believe that if it came to a battle in which she had to chose to kill Karvest or to save Regon she would be able to make the right choise¡­ her hatred was just too much, her pain insufferable.


    She loosened her palms, and stepped through the narrow gap between two tree trunks. A few drops of blood, black in the darkness of the night fell from them and left dark stains on the last blades of grass of the meadow.


    As she got ever deeper in Kordok, so did the trees become ever older and ticker, but the gap between them grew ever wider. After about fifty meters, she could already walk straight, and after a hundred steps or so, the canopy rose high enough for her to take flight a foot off the ground and pick up speed.


    The clearing she found herself in when she exited trough the trees of Kordok, was a meadow of not too high grassland with dark blades and silvery drops of dew everywhere.


    When she looked up at the sky there were just a couple of stars now futilely doing battle against the light creeping from the east horizon. Before her stood a field as large as a bid village or a small town. She finally reached the center of Kordok.

 Ch.3 Preparations 1

    The old wooden cot with a mattress stuffed with dry ferns, seemed to her like it was made of the softest down. The pain in her body was constant since Regon left. He told her where he was going before he left, Fonelia knew he did, but now she couldn¡¯t remember. She was vaguely aware that something had happened, something very important, something that distressed Regon, but now, at this moment all of it seemed to her far and unimportant.


    She couldn¡¯t feel her arms. They didn¡¯t hurt, she didn¡¯t even feel any weight on them, as if they were simply gone. This didn¡¯t disturb her, she knew she should be scared, should be feeling her heart pounding, but everything was calm and moved slowly. She tried moving her fingers¡­ they moved. Not even this information managed to stir anything in her. She knew that this is a good thing, that she should be happy, that she should rejoice that they even existed, but to her this was but another useless information. She couldn¡¯t feel her legs either, but she knew they were there. Unlike her arms, she could feel heat with them. She was cold all over. She knew she should be hot, draped as she was in a thick woolen blanket in the middle of summer, and yet she was cold.


    Something warm moved along her thighs, so Fonelia pushed a leaden hand to touch her womanhood. She feared she might have wet herself during some nightmare, buy now she couldn¡¯t remember any dreams. When she looked at her fingers they shone like embers in the easterly rays of sunlight coming from the small window. Dread struck her like lightning and went through her, her quivering fingers began to register the heat trickling down them. In that moment everything that happened that day came to her and hit her with a force of a war hammer. Fear, white and hot drenched and drained away her pain. She wanted to yell, to cry for help, to call for Regon and ask him to save her, but she couldn¡¯t. For her son¡¯s sake she couldn¡¯t.


    Regon ran out to get ready, she knew that now, but she was dying¡­ But they are coming¡­ her inner voice said.


    ¡°But I¡¯m in pain¡­ my life is flowing out of me like a river.¡±


    But they are coming. Again the same voice.


    ¡°And what of my son¡­ who will raise him, who will protect him?¡±


    So protect him¡­ said the voice and went silent.


    Fonelia closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Now his life was in her husband¡¯s hands, but maybe she could help.


    For a time she looked at the low ceiling. The wooden planks that comprised it seemed oddly blurry. After a while her sight cleared and tears ran down her face.


    ¡°For Bakor.¡±- She reminded herself and lifted a trembling hand.


    ¡±Apender ela kroprav du ferer.¡±- she intoned. She wanted to sound determined, with no fear or doubt in her, she was doing this for her son, but she was disgusted with herself when her voice betrayed her and the last words were nothing but a whisper.


    A few rubies the size of her thumbnail landed on her. She was surprised at the number,-¡°only three¡­¡± and then she remembered that Regon must have taken the rest. She closed her eyes; tried to stand. A sharp pain and feebleness stopped her from even moving from the spot. She would have to work laying down, without any symbols or help. She tried to recall something similar, but not even her father had ever tried something so complicated.


    But it has to work! She told herself and placed the rubies at the points of an imaginary triangle on her belly.


    ¡°For Bakor.¡±- she reminded herself and began.


    Words flowed from her mouth like water, words she had heard only once, words that tied up her tongue and plugged up her throat¡­ words she never once misspoke. Her head was about to burst. With each word innumerable pictures, sounds and meanings pertaining to it would pass through her mind. She could hardly make them out and differentiate one meaning and the next. And yet she had to choose what she needed. She tried again and again; with each repetition she separated ever increasing number of unneeded ideas for the possible meaning of each word that were now clogging her mind. She tried to calm herself again, but she couldn¡¯t. A big part of her couldn¡¯t help it but think on the future¡­ even though for her there was none. Even greater part of her couldn¡¯t help but reminisce on the past, on her childhood, on her father, on the moment she first met Regon¡­ what was left of her didn¡¯t have the will to continue the spell, to continue this fruitless torture. But then she thought of something else, of something fresh, something that outweigh all her other thoughts. She thought of a sound, of a cry¡­ or was it laughter, or maybe both a cry and laughter, her own laughter¡­ and that of Regon, and the cry of her son. She opened her eyes and stopped her chant. The silence she was expecting didn¡¯t come. Her head was still full of those sounds, of cry and laughter, her own laughter¡­ only her own. And then she closed her mouth and only the cry remained. Not some phantom of an event passed, but a real baby¡¯s cry filled the room¡­ her son. Maybe she herself had no future, but Bakor had. And for him to reach it, he would need her help. She looked at herself. The rubies were no longer on her, they must have fallen¡­¡±Apender ela roptav du ferer!¡±- She commanded firmly and in a moment they were there again. She tried again. The phrases she had uttered so many times before left her lips with a curious ease. The familiar confusion followed, and her head was in flames anew. But it was easier now. Now that she no longer taught on anything else, now that she devoted her entire being to this spell, she found herself coping with the jumble of ideas much easier. She was ready in but three repetitions. Like three candles, the three rubies shone with an inner light, and the being she called upon was ready for a corporeal medium.


    ¡°Setsa!¡±- she commanded and extended her hand under the bed where the snake of the house lay. A smooth coldness started crawling up her arm. When the crawling stopped she opened her eyes, she had closed them to keep he concentration firm. Before her, just in front of her nose there was a snake¡¯s head three thumbs wide. The two eyes, as black as onyx, stared at her. For a moment they regarded each other, a woman and a snake, a snake and a woman, like two statues of flesh, they neither breathed nor did they move. After that short instance had passed, the snake moved. Fonelia could feel it slowly coiling itself tighter around her arm. A forked tongue, which seemed to her like the small dessert forks thy used back at the castle, but red as blood, flicked out of the horned viper¡¯s mouth. And for a fraction of a second, less than a heartbeat, it touched her nose. Fonelia shuddered, but the snake just relaxed her coils, and resumed its previous position. Her nose was again just a hair¡¯s breath away from the snake¡¯s horn. Fonelia smiled and with her free hand gently stoked its head and back. The snake was a perfect grey, groken only by the black strip down her long body, which like a second snake meandered itself from the tip of the snake¡¯s tail to the base of its neck. On the snake¡¯s head there was a black pattern that would mean nothing to an ordinary person, but Fonelia knew it as a diagram of protection, old and powerful. So old that not even Regon knew of it before Serma, Veda and Yon taught it to him.Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°I need your help.¡±- whispered Fonelia and glanced at the wooden cradle where Bakor still complained. She returned her gaze back to the snake that hadn¡¯t shifted in the slightest. After a long pause, the grey head did a very slow, very deep movement, and Fonelia almost screamed in joy. She repeated the words once again to make sure the spell is successful and gently patted the snake in its head. Now the snake itself returned the gesture and pressed its head into her palm. This was such an unexpected thing for a snake to do that Fonelia was left open mouthed, and only when the snake moved to themiddle of the triangle formed by the empowered stoned did she remember what she was to do next. She waved her hand and released the spell. Without something so complex bogging down her mind Fonelia felt a strange lightness descend upon her, but it only lasted a heartbeat, the moment she saw the spasmic contortions of the snake¡¯s body, what was once weighing down her mind descended upon her heart. She tried telling herself that it was only a snake, a mare animal¡­ but the way it sought affection, the way it bobbed its head and agreed to the sacrifice, that wasn¡¯t something a mare animal would do. This snake wasn¡¯t just a mare animal, it was the protector of this home, the diagram on its head showed it as such.


    She felt relieved when the snake¡¯s contortions and hissing stopped. It¡¯s finally gone. Without words, Fonelia said goodbye and thank you to the snake that now lay lifeless in the middle of an imaginary triangle. Suddenly the rubies lit up brighter than ever and just as suddenly they dimmed and rolled off the bed as dark and ordinary, empty, red pieces of rock. But the light of the magic didn¡¯t dissipate, but transferred to the snake¡¯s eyes. They were no longer black, but red and bright. The pattern of protection on its head was gone, and in its place there was something else. Fonelia didn¡¯t know what it meant, but it was a simple black circle, solid black. Fonelia tried to move higher on the bed, to sit a bit straighter, and not lay helpless with a demon on top of her. But she couldn¡¯t, this didn¡¯t surprise her, she couldn¡¯t do it before either. Whaqt did surprise her was that it wasn¡¯t pain that stopped her now, but simple weakness. She was running out of time. She had to make the deal as soon as possible. She looked at the snake, it didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Tarbon?.?¡± She asked uncertainly, or maybe it¡¯s more accurate to say she whispered.


    The snake raised its head, turned it to the side and with a single bold red eye looked right at her left one. A long moment passed, and the woman was struck dumb, staring into that red coldness looking back at her, watching her, marking her. With unnatural speed the snake lunged, coiled around her and in but a moment was around her shoulders, still staring at her left eye. Slowly with an easy elegance, like he had possessed this body for an eternity, Trabon turned to her and opened its mouth. As if it was trying to bite her, taste her, even the white fangs, long and sharp, lightly curved inwards left their sheaths. But the snake didn¡¯t attack, didn¡¯t bite, didn¡¯t even move, but spoke instead. It didn¡¯t move its mouth or jaw, or even the tongue, but still, somewhere from deep in that dark mouth emanated a sound, and not just any sound, but words.-¡°What is your wish¡­ child?¡±- a strong male voice echoed and stopped on the last word, as if it wanted to insult her, but reconsidered.


    Fonelia gulped,-¡°I want you to protect my son.¡±- The words left her slowly, but with no hesitation, she didn¡¯t want to waste any time, but couldn¡¯t afford any mistakes, not now.


    The snake didn¡¯t move, but in the vice of Trabon a smile could be heard-¡°Aaa, so I protect your son until your death and you will owe me¡­¡±


    ¡°No!¡±- exclaimed Fonelia before the demon could finish, and the snake hissed.-¡°No, you are to protect him after my death.¡±- she corrected him.


    ¡°Till when?¡±- clearly disappointed he asked.


    ¡°Until the next full moon.¡±-  answered Fonelia respectfully, but without a grain of fear.


    ¡°Possible¡­ it can be done, there is a deal for everything.¡±


    Fonelya smiled, the smile was heavy on her face, nothing hurt now, and that was terrifying.


    ¡°But it will cost you¡­¡±- said the voice in the snake, she could almost see the demon looking at his nails, with an evil smile on its face. For some reason she imagined that smile as red¡­ maybe because red was the only color on the gray snake.


    ¡°What?¡±- asked Fonelia.


    ¡°Your body.¡±- said the snake and moved its tongue, almost licking its lips, this was the first movement Tgabon did since this discourse begun, since it coiled around her and opened its mouth as if in preparation of an attack, this movement was far scarier.


    She knew she would have to pay something, she even knew that that something would be precious, something that meant a lot to her, but what meaning could a body hold to a dead woman¡­ this seemingly low price disturbed her. Why would he want my body? She asked herself. She started going through all the uses of a body¡­ Maybe it wants to eat it? She hoped it wanted to eat it. Even in the small fraction of magic she was aware of there were countless ways to use an ancestor¡¯s corpse to aid or hinder a descendant, especially the corpse of the mother¡­ and she had a feeling that Trabon wouldn¡¯t help anyone. She seemed to weigh two evils on a scale, and she didn¡¯t know which was worse. But even if it cursed Bakor¡­ even cursed people lived, who knew if the necromancer after him would live him alive. She gulped, shut her eyes, and hoped with her whole being that she¡¯s not doing a horrible mistake.-¡°Deal.¡±


    The snake¡¯s mouth contorted into a smile,-¡°Lets seal it then.¡± The deep voice left the half closed mouth with the same force as before and lowered its head so the black circle was now facing her.


    Fonelia closed her eyes, lowered her head and tried to imagine the mark of the house snake in the moment her lips touched the cold skin of the horned viper. When she opened her eyes in the place of the black circle now lay the diagram of protection, but now it glowed with some infernal fire. She didn¡¯t know whether the decision she made was the right one or not, but she no longer had the strength to fight the cold darkness calling to her. She turned to the cradle and focused on the little voice that broke the silence, she focused on this song that lulled her to her eternal slumber. The last image she ever saw was clearer, brighter and more detailed than any fantasy, memory or sight she had ever had, and it was of the snake. It was flying, it had wings made from an old skin from which it had half wriggled out of and was flying to the cradle where it landed and coiled to a corner post and faced the door it took that pose and went still.