THE DARK QUEEN
The Magician - Book Three
by Jennifer Lyon (Jenni10647@AOL.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@AOL.com)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

See the Prologue for detailed Disclaimer and Author's note. The X- Files
belongs to Chris Carter, the Realm, all of the other characters, and the
remainder of this story are solely our own invention, copyright 1996.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Thirteen

        It was several candlemarks into their journey when Scully
finally permitted herself the luxury of relaxing a little.  Considering the
disasters that had plagued their trip thus far, it wasn't surprising that
she was nervous.  Since they had set out from Dreegan, however,
things had been going smoothly.  She and Mulder rode side by side,
enjoying the changing countryside and the warmer temperatures,
while Shannon and Jhorgab kept up a steady chatter behind them.
        After a quick break for rest and food, they remounted and
followed the trail as it began to climb over increasingly hilly terrain.
The southernmost slopes of the Uriin Mountain range loomed ahead
of them, the peaks still capped with snow.  If all continued to go well,
they would be in Goodearth Caverns by nightfall.
                                        - - - - -

        The Dark Queen replaced the sphere in its stand and turned
her attention to the paunchy little man who strutted into her
workroom.  "Sit down, you revolting toad," she snarled.
        Stricken, Drellor squatted in the nearest seat.  "But, my
lady!" he protested.  "What's wrong?  I thought our partnership was
getting along swimmingly!"
        "You have given me nothing useful, worm.  Nothing useful
at all.  Why should I continue a 'partnership' with a partner who brings
nothing to the table?  The Mage and his entourage continue their
journey."  Her eyes sparked their usual fire, but her aura, if he could
have seen it, today glowed dully.
        "Why not just call down a lightning bolt or something?"
        "You stupid, self-important little insect!"  She clamped her
lips shut before she could say more.  She had no wish for him to know
that her powers were not limitless.  Sowing the seeds of hatred and
bloodlust all across the Realm had temporarily sapped her energy.
Although she had derived some comfort and refreshment from the
resulting carnage, it would take several candlemarks before she was
sufficiently rejuvenated to resume making Mage Mulder's journey a
nightmare.  Did this idiot think it was easy, turning thousands of
placid, sheep-like beings into raving lunatics?  But the less he knew of
her limitations for now, the better.  Later, it would not matter.
        "I have my reasons, rodent.  Now, when are you going to tell
me something useful?  I'm growing impatient with your stalling."  She
smiled cruelly.  "Believe this - you do not want to make me angry."
        "N-no, my lady.  It is not my intention to make you angry.
C-certainly not,"  Drellor stammered.  "If you could perhaps tell me
the kind of information you're looking for...?"
        She relaxed back in her chair, becoming almost languid.
"The spells this Mage casts - tell me about them."
        Drellor's knowledge was painfully scant on the subject.  He
had avoided contact with Reinald whenever possible, and Mulder had
usually been with the Royal Mage. But he knew he could put off his
captor no longer.  Therefore he fell back on the one skill he felt he
had - lying.
        "Oh, my lady!  Great powers he has!  Not as great as yours,
but great nonetheless."
        "Details, little man.  I want details."
        "Yes.  Well.  He could turn swords into snakes with a blink
of an eye.  And he masters the elements - positively masters them.
And I know he can construct Gates.  He did so with Reinald many
times.  And...and he can enchant crowds of beings with just the sound
of his voice, to do his will.  And turn things into other things."  She
rolled her eyes and impatiently sighed, her lips set in a thin line.
"Hold, my lady,"  he said desperately.  "Let me tell you of the time
Mage Mulder turned the prince from a stone statue to his living
self...."
        "Too late, you have told me of that already.  So, he can
construct Gates.  I'm not surprised."  She leaned forward, so close to
him now that he could see the flecks of blood-red in the black of her
irises.  Involuntarily, he recoiled.  "What do you know of Mage
Mulder and the Lost Powers?"
        Drellor looked puzzled.  "Lost Powers, my lady?  Lost
Powers, did you say?  I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."
        "And you would be wise not to forget that. Never mind, you
may go."
        Drellor scurried out of the room and started down the
marble steps.  A thought crossed her mind, closely followed by a yelp
and the sound of a soft, fleshy body bouncing down cold, hard stairs
and slamming into stone walls.  She listened to his cries until he finally
landed at the bottom of the long, winding staircase.  She chuckled,
her humor restored for the moment.  The little swine was outliving his
usefulness.  But yet - his blood!  His blood would serve her purposes
in the end.
        The rodent had spoken the truth, though, when he said he
knew nothing of Mulder's connection with the Lost Powers, of that
she was sure.  Yet just as certainly, she had seen the young Mage use
one of them.   It was a puzzle.  If he had unlocked the secrets to these
powers, why had he not used them on his journey when she had
presented him with...impediments?  Was it possible that he was
unaware of these powers?  Or that he could not direct them at will?
She smiled.  If so, her task would be easier than she could have
hoped.

                                        - - - - -

        The last shafts of sunlight beamed between the mountain
peaks as the horses carefully picked their way up the winding, rocky
trail.  They rode single file now, the width of the path permitting
nothing more.
        //Scully, we're not alone.\\
        She sat up straighter in the saddle and peered around.  //I
don't see anything.\\
        //Off to your left, behind the rock that looks like Skinner's
head.\\
        Nonchalantly, she stared ahead, but her peripheral vision
picked up the slight movement of what looked like two pairs of
pointed ears, almost indistinguishable from the gray of the rock.
        //Trouble?\\
        Mulder, riding ahead of her, shook his head.  //I don't think
so.  I think they're kids.\\
        A sudden burst of giggling sounded, and two tiny gargoyles
tumbled into view.
        "Hello,"  Mulder called out in New Realm.  "Can you tell me
if we're near Goodearth Caverns?"
        The two children looked at each other, poking and prodding
one another to speak.  Finally, the smaller of the two piped up.
        "I can.  Are you Mage Mulder?"
        //Your reputation precedes you, Mulder.\\  His bondmate
smiled sunnily at him.
        He shot her a look, and turned once again to the youngsters.
He nodded.  "Do you know Tarnor?  We're here to visit his family."
        "Um-hm.  Tarnor's my taabsut.  I'll show you how to get to
town if I can ride on your horse."  He grinned up at Mulder,
displaying his spiky teeth.
        "Me too!  I want a ride too!"  His companion finally broke
his long silence.
        "I think that can be arranged."  Mulder reached down and
helped the little one to scramble up onto the horse, and settled him
between himself and the saddlehorn.  "What's your name?"
        "Feki.  Really Fekor, but my nickname is Feki.  And that's
my cousin Lorka."  He indicated his companion, who was being
pulled up to join Scully on her mount.  "That way's faster."  He
pointed a dark gray finger at an offshoot of the main path.
        "Think we can get through there?"  Mulder asked doubtfully.
        "Yeah, easy."
        Mulder kept up a running conversation with the youngster as
they picked their way through the rocks, although he was having a
hard time with the child's unusual accent.  It turned out that Tarnor
was his uncle, his father's oldest brother.  Although the child hadn't
even been born when Tarnor left Goodearth Caverns, the gargoyle
Mage had made an indelible impression on Feki during his infrequent
visits home.  Apparently, in the gargoyle culture, extended families
lived together in clusters of caves, so families were uncommonly
close.  Feki badly missed his uncle, and devoured all the news that
Mulder had of him eagerly.
        They had ridden several minutes more when the path opened
up and they came to a small plateau surrounded snugly by mountains.
At last, the town of Goodearth Caverns lay before them.  Where most
of the structures they had seen in this world were made of either
wood or baked mud bricks, these buildings were of rough stones,
mortared together with a kind of cement.  Cobblestones paved the
center of town, and paths radiated like spokes of a wheel from the
center toward the mountain slopes.  By each was a colorful painted
sign, presumably indicating the families who dwelled along the path.
As they rode through town, doors flew open and gargoyles rushed to
greet them with such enthusiasm and in such numbers that Scully,
fearing an impending riot, instinctively felt for the reassuring presence
of the sword at her side.
        "We found them!" cried Feki.
        The travelers slid off their horses to greet the gargoyle who
pushed her way through the crowd.  She wore a heavy necklace of
large, bizarrely shaped metal beads, but rather than decorative, it
seemed to connote some official meaning.
        "I am Mikora, elder of Goodearth Caverns.  Please join me
for tea."
        The four travelers followed Mikora into one of the squat
stone buildings as their two little guides raced up a nearby path to
alert the family that their visitors had finally arrived.
        "I would offer you food,"  the elder continued, "but I know
that Afla has spent the entire day cooking and she would have my
head if I spoiled your appetites.  Please have a seat."
        Mulder sank gratefully onto the stone bench the elder
indicated.  His neck was beginning to hurt from having to bend it at
an awkward angle to avoid hitting his head on the low beams.  He had
never felt so tall in his life.  Only Scully and Jhorgab could stand at
their full height in the small dwelling.  He accepted a stoneware mug
of remarkable craftsmanship and sipped down some scalding tea.
Scully began to speak for the group.
        "Thank you for your hospitality, Mikora.  This is the first
time we've had much contact with your culture.  I hope you will
forgive us if we inadvertently do or say something you might find
offensive.  I assure you, it would be from ignorance and no desire to
insult."
        The elder waved dismissively.  "Our etiquette is not so
inflexible in this part of the Realm.  And I'm not surprised you haven't
become intimately acquainted with our ways.  We tend to keep to
ourselves and mix less than the other beings.  Only the very ambitious,
very gifted, or very undesirable tend to break away from their clans
and seek their fortunes in more diverse settings.  We have nothing
against other creatures, we just get our comfort from the familiar.  I
think you'll find our culture unique, but in no way forbidding."
        "Tarnor is certainly doing well at Fairwoods Castle,"  offered
Mulder.  "He's become the assistant to the Royal Mage.  He saved our
lives at least once, as well as that of the Royal Mage and indirectly,
King Andalor.  He's an extraordinary being."
        The elder grinned, showing her pointed teeth, and her ears
twitched agreeably.  "Tarnor is very special to us here.  He was the
first in our village to be gifted with the powers of a Mage.  We
gargoyles have our talents, but magic is very rarely one of them.  If
you're finished with your tea, I would like to take you on a short tour
of our village, then walk you up to Afla's cave."
        Mulder and Scully looked at each other.  They were
exhausted and wanted nothing more than to settle for the night.  But
the little elder was obviously bursting with pride, and they didn't have
the heart to offend her.  "We'd love to," said Scully with as much
enthusiasm as she could muster.
        Afla showed them through the little town. Here, the
economy seemed more advanced, less agrarian-based than the rest of
the Realm. The largest building belonged to the mining company.
The surrounding mountains were a rich source of metals and
gemstones, and most gargoyles made their living in mining or
processing these resources.  There was also a cottage industry in
pottery, the tableware from the region prized throughout the Realm.
"Females head up most of the industry in town, and of course the
town government.  We gargoyles tend to be rather matriarchal,
probably because our males have to spend so much time in the mines
and are rarely around," she explained.
        Finally, she led them up a path marked by a sign that bore a
picture of a red and yellow wheelbarrow.  "This is Tarnor's family
sign.  It is one of the oldest in our village."  And one of the most
respected, unless Mulder missed his guess.
        Out of the deepening dusk, a matronly gargoyle approached
them, her face wreathed in a fearsome smile.  "Ah, Mage Mulder,
Warrior-Healer Scully!  I'd have known you anywhere, from what my
Tarnor has told me!"  She bustled over to Shannon and took her
hand.  "And this must be your halla - how lovely.  How tall you are,
my dear!  Come right this way, I know you must be hungry and
tired."  They waved farewell to Mikora.  Tarnor's mother kept up a
steady stream of chatter that rivaled even Jhorgab as they followed
her up the steep trail.  "That's right, just through here, and around this
bend - see, just follow the signs."

                                        - - - - -

        Jourdain wiped the sweat and spattered blood from his brow.
How long could this carnage go on?  He and his men had arrived in
time to stop the worst of it, but as they now labored to identify the
dead and tend to the wounded, he knew it had not been enough.
Fifteen bodies lay stretched out in Waterrush's village square - six
elves, four humans, and five trolls.  Stories varied about what had
really started the bloodletting, all the beings pointing the finger at
another.  But one thing was clear - what had started as a minor
trading dispute had ended up as a deadly free-for-all.
        He gestured to Bashar, who left his grisly chore and came to
his side. "Find the elders - those that still live - and bring them to me."
He helped to shroud the dead while his lieutenant followed his orders.
        Three humans, all bleeding from superficial gashes, were led
before him.  Three of their fellow elders lay among the dead.
Jourdain motioned them toward the elders' meeting hut, where they
sat slumped at a round wooden table.  "All right.  Now what
happened?"
        The tallest replied with a sneer, "Ask the elves, they started
it."
        Impatiently, Jourdain demanded, "Started what?  What, by
the Dark Creatures, could have happened to cause such bloodshed?
Have you all taken leave of your senses?"
        In a whiny voice, the fat man dripping blood from a cut lip
said, "The elves were cheating, trying to pass off old vegetables as
fresh."
        Jourdain could only stare at them.  "You are telling me that
fifteen beings lie slaughtered out there in your village square because
the vegetables the elves were selling weren't fresh?" he asked in a
deadly cold, deadly quiet voice.
        "Well, it's just so typical of them, isn't it?"  fussed the third
elder.  "And then the trolls became angry over something - I know not
what - and before we knew it, a battle had broken out."
        "A battle you were quick to become involved in, no doubt.
Any excuse for a fight, eh?"  Jourdain paused in an attempt to control
his fury.  Then he growled, "King Andalor has granted me unlimited
power to put down this senseless fighting any way I see fit.  I'm sick
to death of seeing my men hurt to keep stupid rabble like yourselves
from killing each other. Maybe the only way to put a stop to it is to
have all the adult male beings of this cursed place put to the sword."
Bashar whipped his head around to stare wide-eyed at his captain.
        The three turned pale.
        "But it was the elves-"
        "But it was the trolls-"
        "I don't particularly care," declared Jourdain, arms flung
wide.  "You want to see blood spilled, fine.  Let it be yours.  Bashar!
Round up all the adult male beings and bring them to the square."
        "Y-yes, sir."  The startled lieutenant fled out of the hut.
        "B-but you can't!" stammered the fat elder.
        "Oh, really?  Just watch me," the grizzled soldier said with a
fierce grin.  "At least, until your turn comes."
        "L-let's try to be sensible here," the tall elder said.  "There's
no need for this."
        "You missed your chance to be sensible."  Jourdain drew his
sword and gestured with the tip.  "Out - join your murderous
neighbors."
        The three stumbled out of the hut to stand shaking with the
other males of the village, some hundred in all.  Wives and children
looked on in horrified silence or open sobs.
        He raised his sword in the air.  "As you have pronounced the
sentence of death on your fellow beings, so I pronounce the same
sentence on you - "
        "WAIT!  What will this prove, what will it accomplish?"
argued the tall elder.
        "It will prevent my men and myself from ever having to
come back to this place.  From having to risk our lives because you
beings cannot get along.  From having to put up with your hatred and
your stupidity.  And maybe as an example to other villages like yours.
Not one, but four good reasons to carry out the sentence of death on
you beings."
        "Please, have mercy!"  called out the fat elder.
        Jourdain smiled grimly.  "Mercy like you showed the poor
devils lying over there?"
        The third elder, trembling and close to tears, begged.
"Please, we don't know what came over us.  We have never behaved
like this before, and if given our lives, never will again.  On our oath
to the Goddess."  There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd.
        The captain looked thoughtful for several moments while the
village held its collective breath.
        "No.  I cannot repeal the sentence of death I have given
you."  When the outburst of cries of protest and pleas for forgiveness
crested then finally fell silent, he continued.  "I will, however, stay the
carrying out of that sentence.  You will all consider yourselves under
a death sentence.  That sentence will be carried out swiftly and
without mercy should I hear of a single incident in this village in
which one being raises his hand in anger against another being."
There were now shouts, praising Jourdain, praising the Goddess, for
their deliverance.
        "I meant what I said," Jourdain continued grimly.  "A single
incident will be enough to condemn you all.  A squad of my troops
will stay in Waterrush to keep me posted.  You are advised to treat
them cordially."
        The elders bowed low, thanking the captain for the lives of
the villagers, and then dispersed to join their families and make the
arrangements for the dead.
        "Ah, Jourdain, you indeed had me worried," Bashar
confided.  "I must learn not to play at cards with you, for you
dissemble too well.  You looked like you meant every word of it, that
you really did mean to have them all executed immediately."
        Jourdain looked at his lieutenant, oddly shaken, like a man
emerging from some hideous nightmare.  "Until a few moments ago, I
did."

                                        - - - - -

        They were all panting by the time they arrived at the cave
mouth.  Torches burned brightly outside, illuminating the painting of
the wheelbarrow above the entrance.  Wonderful aromas emerged
from the opening, amidst the cacophony of many voices.  The path
into the cave descended sharply, the roof low enough in places to
force Mulder to bend almost double in order to get through.  Along
the wall, recesses had been scooped out which held a phosphorescent
substance that bathed the tunnel in an eerie orange glow, providing
just barely enough light to see.
        "Now that opening there is where Trablok, Tarnor's cousin's
family lives.  And that one to the right is another cousin.  His father's
brothers are there, there, and that opening furthest to the left.  And
my sister's husband's family...."  Between the close atmosphere in the
cave and the complex relationships of Tarnor's family, Scully felt like
her head was spinning.  It was with relief that she heard Afla's voice
finally say, "And here we are!"  They entered a large room hewn from
solid rock, filled with over fifty gargoyles.  On every surface, on every
stone ledge and bench, gargoyles were clustered together, giggling
and whispering, and clearly fascinated with the new arrivals.
        "I hope you don't mind - some of the family wanted to join
you for dinner," Afla explained, anxiously.
        Shannon's eyes were huge. "This is all family?  Is there
anyone in town you aren't related to?"  the bewildered girl blurted
out.
        Mulder cast a warning glance her way and shook his head
imperceptibly.  Obviously the concept of family was held sacred by
the gargoyle culture.  The meaning of the look was not lost on the
girl.
        "I-I'm sorry.  I meant no disrespect.  But I've never seen such
a big family before."
        "Oh, that's all right, dearie.  Yes, we do have big families.
And this isn't all of it - we had to turn away everyone who wasn't at
least a first cousin.  How many brothers and sisters do you have?"
        "None.  It was just me and my mom."
        It was Afla's turn to look startled, and rapidly she translated
Shannon's words for the younger gargoyles who did not seem to
understand her words. There was an intake of breath and a low hum
of discussion throughout the room, heads shaking in pity.  Gargoyles
were having the same difficulty with Shannon's idea of family as she
was having with theirs.
        "Well, no mind, dear.  Before we eat, let me show you
around and find you someplace to put your things."  She led them
through a tunnel off the main room to a veritable labyrinth of
passageways and chambers, all lit by the same phosphorescent matter
they had seen in the entrance tunnel.  At the dull thud and Mulder's
sudden cry of pain, she said, "Oops, watch your head there, Mage.
Our ceilings are a bit on the low side.  Ah, perhaps the light is not
enough for you!  There's not much we can do about that, I'm afraid.
You see, hundreds of generations of living and working in caves has
given us incredibly keen eyesight in the dark, but we are somewhat
sensitive to bright light.  Just stay close and I'll try to remember to tell
you when to duck."
        She showed them chambers that were set up almost like
dormitories, with straw pallets that evidently took the place of beds,
laid out ten or more to a room.  The walls were adorned with murals
and what appeared to be graffiti.  Mulder asked her what the symbols
were.
        "Oh, that's the old gargoyle tongue, which is what most of us
speak around here.  The older ones know New Realm, because we
teach it in the schools, but we use Garsintil most of the time."
        Mulder went close to the wall, touching the symbols,
spending some time examining them.  A little nagging sensation
flickered in his mind.
        //What is it?  Head bothering you from where you banged
it?\\  He felt her mind in his, concerned.
        "No.  My head's all right.  It's these symbols, they look a
little familiar, although I don't know why they should be.  Never
mind."
        If Afla thought his answering a question that had not be
asked was unusual, she gave no sign.  "If you are interested in our
writing, perhaps you would like to see our library, adjacent to our
school.  Just down here."  She led the way through a maze of
connecting tunnels to a large room, lined floor to ceiling with shelves
carved out of the rock walls.  Concentric circles of stone benches
filled the center of the room.  "This is our school," she announced
proudly.
        "This is the first time we've heard of organized education in
the Realm," commented Mulder.  "I'd assumed that all youngsters
were taught what they needed to know by their parents."
        "Well, among the trolls, elves, and most human communities,
you'd be correct.  But gargoyles prize learning above all things,"
explained Afla.  "We are pre-eminent among seers, scholars and
philosophers in the Realm.  In any case, you are not far off, because
the parents do the teaching.  Each of us has become a specialist of
sorts, studying an area of particular interest until we are expert in the
field, and then communicating that knowledge to the young - and
often the older ones, as well.  Schools are for everyone, not just the
children.  Some of us specialize in language - I handle linguistics,
being fluent in both New and Old Realm -  some in numbers, some in
literature or other arts, and others in lifelearning."  At her guests'
questioning expressions, she said, "What they need to know to live -
matters of work, of play, of homemaking and health."
        "Sounds like your educational system makes a lot more
sense than ours," said Scully dryly.  "Undoubtedly works a lot better,
too."
        Afla smiled proudly, then pointed to an opening. "The library
is just through there."  Mulder wandered into the adjoining room,
which was filled with books and scrolls in every Realm language,
most beautifully illustrated.  The room was spotlessly clean, and straw
cushions were everywhere, inviting the reader to browse through the
volumes in comfort.  Scully noted what appeared to be a small shrine
in one corner of the large chamber.  A tiny statue was set on a rock
ledge, surrounded by fresh flowers and small fruits.
        "I'm sorry, but may I ask - what is the significance of the
statue?" Scully inquired.
        "Ah, yes.  That is one of the old gods, Hortha.  A sort of
patron, if you will, of learning and scholarship.  Also our family's
patron."
        "Is it permitted...?"
        "Certainly.  Just try not to touch the image."
        Scully examined the shrine more closely, then turned to her
hostess.  "Then you don't worship the Goddess?"
        "Some do.  Most don't adhere to any particular theology.
And others still hold true to the old gods, like we do.  Now, let's find
your rooms so you can relax before dinner."
        She led them back through the maze, the travelers
completely lost by this time.  They were shown to two small chambers
decorated with murals and Garsintil symbols.  It was clear that some
of the family had been moved out to make room for the guests.  In
each room, several straw pallets had been moved together to create
the larger beds the human travelers would require.  "I hope we haven't
put you out too much, Afla," said Scully doubtfully.
        "No, the younger ones were glad of an excuse to stay
overnight with their cousins.  Besides, it's an honor to have you.  Now
let me show you the washroom."  She showed them to a small
aperture, which shone with a steamy blue light.  Mulder got down on
his hands and knees and crawled through.
        "Hey Scully, get in here!  Look at this!"
        She and Shannon both followed him.  Once in, they stood
and looked around in wonderment.  The walls of the small, keyhole-
shaped chamber were of crystal and gave off a dim azure glow.  In the
center of the chamber, a deep pool of water steamed, creating a
sauna-like atmosphere.  To the right of the opening, oaken buckets
and stoneware bowls sat filled with more water, and soft towels were
stacked on a wooden bench.  Afla and finally Jhorgab scuttled
through the opening, the little troll's lip curling in dismay at the heat,
humidity, and possibly at the purpose of the room.  Trolls did not take
kindly to bathing.
        "Oh, wow!" exclaimed Shannon.
        "I'll be damned. Natural hot springs?"  the Mage questioned.
        Afla nodded.  "Our source of hot water, and heat in the
winter.  Use the water in the bowls - don't try to immerse yourselves
or you'll be scalded.  Refill the bowls and set them aside when you're
finished.  We'll have dinner as soon as you're ready."
        "And the...er, umm?" hesitated Jhorgab.
        She giggled.  "Sorry - the necessarium is just around the
corner, first opening on the left."  With that, she bustled off to see
about organizing dinner for sixty.
        First Shannon, then Jhorgab took their turns in the
washroom and necessarium, then Mulder and Scully followed suit.
They changed into dressier clothes, fearing that to do otherwise
would be an insult to their hostess.  Then they headed off in the
general direction they thought was correct, and within an amazingly
short time became completely lost.
        "It HAS to be this way, Scully," said Mulder, pointing at one
of their several choices of tunnels.
        "Why does it HAVE to be that way?  I think it's down
there," she countered.
        "Um, Mage Mulder, Warrior Healer Scully - I think,
perhaps, if I'm not mistaken -"
        "Pipe down, Jhorgab.  But Scully, we came from there."
        "Um, I really think that -"
        "Can it, Jhorgab!  Mulder, you can't seriously believe that at
this point I have any credence whatsoever in your sense of direction,
which has historically been horrible."
        "HEY!"  The little troll's loud voice echoing off the cave
walls stopped their argument cold.  "THAT'S the right direction," he
said, pointing down an entirely different tunnel.  "Believe me, where
food is concerned, I'm rarely wrong."
        They looked at each other.  Then Mulder shrugged. "Lead
the way, Jhorgab."
        The troll bustled down the tunnel as fast as his stubby legs
could carry him.  Sure enough, they emerged into a large chamber
where rough wooden tables and benches had been set up and laid with
beautiful stoneware bowls, pitchers and platters.  "Sorry we're late.
We got lost,"  Mulder explained.  A swell of laughter started up,
becoming an avalanche once Afla had translated his words for the
Garsintil speakers through her own giggles.
        "They don't mean to be rude," smiled Afla.  "It's just that
they think you're very strange.  You see, gargoyles don't get lost, not
underground, anyway.  Apparently we have a built-in compass which
other beings lack."
        "Trolls don't do too badly either," Jhorgab asserted.  "At
least in finding dinner."
        They all laughed and some of the younger family members
started passing around the serving bowls and plates.  The main course
seemed to be a kind of casserole. The travelers waited until everyone
had been served, unsure of the customs.  Afla spoke some words in
Garsintil, and then gestured for everyone to start.
        "SHIT!"
        Alarmed, Scully stopped her spoon halfway to her mouth
and swung her head to see Mulder, purple faced and gulping from his
water mug.
        "I've heard of five alarm chili, but this has to rate at least
fifty!" he exclaimed in a strangled voice. Again, the assemblage began
to laugh, pointing at the tears running down his cheeks.  "It's
delicious, but it needs a warning label."  Something was lost in the
translation, but Afla laughed merrily.
        "I suppose I should have warned you - we like our food
spicy.  It gets easier the more you eat."  Mulder cast a doubtful look
her way, but tried another spoonful. It did go down easier.
        After the first few painful bites, they got used to the fiery
spice of the food, and began to converse with their tablemates while
they ate.  Mulder spoke with Afla in Old Realm, the woman glad to
have a chance to use the ancient tongue.  When they had eaten their
fill, the long trip began to catch up with them, Jhorgab nearly falling
asleep into his empty bowl.  One of the little ones showed them back
to their rooms and they were asleep as soon as they hit their straw
pallets.
                                        - - - - -

        Andalor slumped back in his chair.  The Realm was falling
apart.  There had been reports of serious fighting in sixteen villages,
some between different beings, some revivals of old feuds between
clans of the same species of being.  Squads had been sent out to try to
stop the bloodshed.  Not for the first time, the king wondered how
Mulder and his party were progressing.  Something had to happen
soon, or the Realm would topple into anarchy with loss of life worse
than they had experienced in the War with the Dark Creatures.  As
horrible as that had been, at least their enemies had faces.  The worst
part of this - whatever was causing neighbor to slay neighbor - was an
unknown, its motives as shrouded in mystery as its face.
        He turned his attention once again to the two Heads of
House.  Fighting had broken out between Maalfees and Dordinal, and
three lay dead - one from each house and one of Andalor's guards
who had tried to intervene.  All the two nobles had been able to do
was blame each other, dredging up old disagreements and real or
imagined wrongs.  Both sat before him, purple with anger.  Reinald
and Mandor of Ranfaus completed the group.
        "Lord Horvay, it matters not what happened two hundred
and thirty season-cycles ago.  That time has passed.  I want to know
what started this brawl in which one of my most promising guards
was killed,"  Andalor demanded.
        "Ask the Dordinal slime who jumped my nephew as he was
minding his own business -"
        "Lies!  That scum of a nephew of yours was goading - yes,
goading - my men into a fight," declared Marvick, outraged.
        "Enough!  Guards, take these two out and hold them while I
seek the counsel of my advisors."  The guards led the two nobles out,
quivering with rage and trading insults.  "And keep them quiet!  If
they say a word, escort them to the dungeon where, with any luck, I
will forget their whereabouts and they may rot."
        The mouths of both nobles snapped shut as they now
transferred their anger to the king.  They left with the guards, quietly
fuming.
        "What say you, Lord Mandor?  I trust your judgment."
        Reinald looked on as Mandor gave the king his opinion of
what started the violence, and the atmosphere in and between the
noble houses.  Even his own house, normally the most well-behaved,
had seen an increase in tensions and violence.
        "Reinald?"
        "Your Majesty, while stupidity and arrogance are nothing
new to either Maalfees or Dordinal, we also know that the underlying
tensions are being played upon by another unknown party.  Although
the situation cries out for justice, for the murdered guard if for no one
else, that justice must be tempered in light of that circumstance."
        "I agree, Your Majesty," Mandor said.  "The violence and
bloodthirst becomes more widespread every day.  Even if you had the
brawlers executed, I doubt it would serve any purpose other than to
focus their bloodlust against you.  And if you fall, then truly there is
no hope for the Realm."
        Andalor got up from the table and began to pace.  "But I
can't ignore this - I would be perceived as weak.  And what sort of an
example would ignoring it send?"  He stopped, tapping his lip with a
forefinger.  "What if - what if we disarm the houses?  That way they
could do less damage."
        "And wouldn't be able to defend themselves if they suffered
an attack by someone from the general public with a knife.  We can't
disarm everyone," countered Mandor.
        "Yes, there's that.  All right - what do you think of
confinement to chambers for all involved - and anyone caught defying
the order would be imprisoned indefinitely.  I have to do something,"
he explained.
        Mandor and Reinald were silent as they pondered the king's
suggestion.  "It could work - as a temporary measure only," said
Mandor decisively.  "Although I confess, I cannot think what the next
step should be."
        "Very well, it is so ordered.  And Lord Mandor - you do
realize that if any members of your house succumb to the same
bloodlust, a like fate awaits them."
        "I had assumed that to be so, Your Majesty.  Now, if I have
your leave, I'll see to telling Marvick and Horvay."
        "By all means.  Our thanks go with you, Lord Mandor."
        He bowed deeply and left.
        Reinald sat at the table troubled.
        "What is it, Reinald?  Do you feel I have erred?" asked
Andalor, coming to sit beside the old Mage.
        "Eh?  No. No, Andalor, you handled it well.  No, it is
another decision you must make which troubles me."
        The king sighed.  "My betrothal."
        Reinald nodded.  "It can't be put off any longer.  Perhaps if
news of your betrothal spreads, it will serve as a diversion to break
this cycle of bloodshed."
        Andalor laughed bitterly.  "So my choice of wife is to be a
well-timed diversion."
        "A diversion that may well save the lives of some of your
people."
        "I know.  I know, Reinald.  But the choice for a lifetime - to
be made like this?  I feel like a condemned man.  I have as little say in
my future as any poor wretch in the dungeon."
        "I wish it could be otherwise.  I know you're becoming very
fond of Shannon."
        "You have NO idea how fond I am of Shannon, Reinald!"
he said angrily.  "No idea at all.   And it doesn't matter anyway, does
it?"  The king turned his now furious gaze on his old guardian.
        "I'm sorry."
        Seeing the dejection in the sag of the man's shoulders,
Andalor knew he deeply regretted the position they were in.  He
sighed.  "All right, I assume you have a list of eligible candidates.
Who are they?"
        Reinald sat forward.  "Althea of Dalvies.  It is a minor house,
to be sure, but the choice would have the benefit of not siding with
one of the major houses and alienating the others.  Of course, she's a
bit older than you...."
        "Seventeen season-cycles older, to be precise. Twice my age.
And it is said that she is as interesting as fog.  No, I can't do it.  Who's
next?"
        "Cornella of Krensward.  Another minor house.  It is said
that she's pretty," he added hopefully.
        "Reinald, gimme a break!"  The Mage winced as he always
did when Andalor lapsed into the slang learned in Mulder's world.
"Cornella might be pretty but she's as dumb as a tree-stump.  And
completely self-centered.  I can't live with someone who can talk only
about what she's wearing or the latest gossip.  Absolutely not.  Who's
left?"
        "Lady Livirnea of Ranfaus.  Coincidentally, she's here at
Fairwoods Keep, visiting her father."
        Andalor snorted.  "Some coincidence.  Am I to be allowed
to see her, to speak to her?  In private?"
        "Of course.  I was hoping you would. As far as the privacy
goes, you know that cannot be.  But I think I have a solution you will
find palatable."
        "Very well.  If you would, please ask the Lady Livirnea to
join me in the West Receiving Chamber in one candlemark."
        "Andalor - thank you."  He looked as if he was about to say
more, but thought better of it and left to find Mandor.
        The king sat alone, thinking, for most of that candlemark.
                                          - - - - -

        Matron Darfa opened the door and held it aside for the
young girl.  Andalor turned from his perusal of the bookcase to look
at them both, and quickly stifled a chuckle.  Yes, an appropriate
chaperone had been chosen.  The plump troll was known for her
strictness to the rules of protocol.  Fortunately for the young couple,
she was also deaf as a post.   They would be able to speak freely.
          He had purposely set the meeting so that it would not
afford enough time for special primping or coaching.  He was sure
enough of that had been done already.  Hopefully, it would also not
allow enough time for gossip to spread, although he felt that might be
overly optimistic.
        Livirnea was small, about Aldara's size, but there was a great
sense of presence about her.  Her thick ash blonde hair was done in a
simple braid which hung down her back.  She had porcelain skin,
delicate features, and interesting light gray eyes which promised
intelligence.  Andalor had some aura-reading capability, and hers was
the color of her eyes - the scholar-scientist's pale gray.  Her dress was
simple, a plain white sheath belted in silver, with just a touch of silver
embroidery on the bodice.
        She curtsied deeply.  "Your Majesty."  Although not quite
thirteen season-cycles in age, her voice had a pleasant, unexpectedly
adult timbre to it.
        Andalor smiled.  "Do you know why you have been
summoned here?"
        "Yes, Your Majesty."  Her gaze, like her answer, was direct.
        "Then I think, under the circumstances, you can call me
Andalor, don't you?  Please, come sit by me."
        She walked across the room gracefully, but remained
standing until the king had taken his seat.  Darfa's sharp eyes never
left the couple.
        "We met once, long ago.  Do you remember?"
        "Yes, Your...Andalor.  I believe it was at a Spring Planting
ceremony, six season-cycles ago."
        "Much has happened in that space of time.  What have you
been doing since then?"
        Her face lit up and her voice became enthusiastic for the first
time.  "Studying.  Mostly the elements, and how they can be changed.
Machines, and how they can be improved.  And many foolish things
as well, like sewing and weaving and singing.  Oh!"  She blushed
prettily.  "Perhaps I should not have been so bold."
        "No, I want you to be honest.  I want to get to know the
person you are."
        "My mother says my bluntness will be my undoing."
        "I find it refreshing.  And admirable."
        She smiled and relaxed a little.  "No one takes me seriously.
My father tries, but he feels I'll outgrow this.  But I have always found
the elements fascinating.  To mix two substances together to create a
third, entirely different substance - it's so exciting!"
        "I know someone you should meet," he replied, thinking of
the Professor.  "Perhaps he would even agree to further your studies.
He is from a distant land of many wonders, and is what they call a
scientist.  But his interests are like yours - the elements and machines
and new creations."
        "I would be most interested to meet him.  Do you really
think there is any chance he might agree to teach me?  My tutor has
little new he can instruct.  I think my parents were hoping that my
studies would end when his knowledge was exhausted."
        "I can just about guarantee it."  They were silent for a while,
then Andalor said, "So you know what all this is about."
        "Yes.  They want us to become betrothed."
        Solemnly he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.  "And what
do you think about that?"
        "It is an incredible honor, King Andalor."
        He smiled wryly.  "Very nice.  Now what do you really think
about it?"
        "If I may speak plainly?"  He nodded his permission.  "I
know every girl in the Realm would be envious to be in my position.
I know what an honor it is, and I'm truly grateful and appreciative."
She faltered.
        "But...?"
        "But I really don't know.  It's not that I don't want to marry
you.  I just don't particularly want to think about marrying anyone
right now.  I don't want my whole life planned out for me by my
parents.  I want to study as much as I can, and see where that leads
me."
        He looked at her seriously.  "You know we may have little
choice in this matter.  Even more than you, I am a prisoner of the
Realm.  Always making choices for its good, doing my duty...."  He
sighed.
        She nodded.  "I know.  My father speaks well of you, and
my parents are very excited about all this.  I don't want to hurt them, I
don't want to hurt you.  But it's my life!"
        "I feel precisely the same way."  He paused, then slowly
continued.  "You know, a lot can happen between now and the time
we would be married.  It would be at least two season-cycles, maybe
three.  Once the announcement is made and the betrothal ceremony
over, we would both be left alone most of that time - just waiting.  No
more pushing and prodding and nagging."
        Her gray eyes smiled.  "You mean, let them announce the
betrothal, and then carry on as before?  I could continue my studies?
Yes, I'd like that."
        "I really don't think they'll let us fail to become betrothed.
They'll work on us until we give in.  This might be the best thing we
can do to get a little peace.  And maybe something will happen to let
us both do what we want to do in the end."
        She nodded.  "It's a good plan, Andalor."
        He leaned forward and looked her directly in the eyes.  "You
need to know that we might have to go through with it - actually be
married, I mean.  But Livirnea, I promise you, no matter what the
personal cost to myself, I would try to make you happy, and see that
you continue with your studies for so long as you may want.  I
wouldn't..."  Andalor reddened slightly,  "I wouldn't...force myself
...on you, or anything."  From the back of the room, Darfa peered at
them suspiciously.
        "I understand.  Thank you, Andalor, you have been more
generous than I could have hoped.  This isn't fair and it isn't perfect,
for either of us.  But if nothing else, I'm sure that today I have gained
a friend for life, a good friend who understands me.  I hope you know
you have the same in me."  Her eyes were warm.
        He clasped her hand and bent to kiss it gently.  "We'd better
go tell everyone the good news."

                                        - - - - -

        She found him easily through their bond, feeling stronger as
she did so.  Crawling through the small opening, she entered the
crystal washroom.  He sat naked near the boiling pool, perspiration
streaming down his body.
        //Hi.\\
        The quick smile that never failed to light up his face.  //Good
morning.  I woke up achy, so I decided to take a steambath to see if it
would help.  I think it has.\\
        //I hope it was worth the 'separation sickness'.\\
        //It was to start with, but it was becoming a little
uncomfortable.  But now you're here, so...  Oh!  Sorry, I didn't think -
did I wake you up with a nasty case of whatever the hell this is?\\
        She walked around the pool to sit next to him. //Yeah, but
it's gone now.  Why were you sore?\\
        He turned a comically tragic face to her.  //I think I miss our
bed.  I'm getting almost accustomed to all the riding, but that straw
mattress last night didn't work very well at all - I kept rolling off onto
the floor.\\
        She chuckled, and moved behind him, her hands going to his
neck and shoulders.  //Why didn't you just wake me?  I could have
taken care of this.\\
        //Didn't have the heart - you looked so peaceful.  Mmm,
that's good.\\
        She reached in as a healer, deadening the irritated nerves,
unknotting the remaining muscle kinks, then resumed massaging his
neck and back muscles.
        "Hey, if you two are finished playing around in there, Afla
has breakfast ready,"  Shannon's disembodied voice called through the
opening.
        "Be there in a minute!"  //Well, time to go chow down on
some jalapeno oatmeal or something.\\
        Scully laughed.  "It could be worse, Mulder.  At least they're
cooking for us.  You remember Tarnor's preference for raw meat."
        His nose wrinkled in distaste.  "You have a point.  Go see if
the coast is clear to our room.  I'm not exactly dressed for the public
here."
        She rose quickly - too quickly considering the heat in the
room, and lost her balance as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
With a sharp cry, she fell toward the boiling, spring-fed pool.
        Suddenly, she was floating, suspended over the pool in a
cloud of blue light.  Mulder reached out to take her hand, and tugged
her back over the rocky floor of the crystal chamber.  The cloud
gradually vanished as she felt her feet making contact with the
ground.
        "Careful - you wouldn't want to scald that beautiful
complexion."  His eyes belied the joking tone of his words, showing
his fear.
        "No, I wouldn't want to do that."  Her lips brushed his and,
hand-in-hand, they walked to the opening to get ready for breakfast.
        After a relatively bland meal of spiced fruit, bread with
pepper jam, and cheese, Afla took them back out of the cave and
down to the village.  Dawn was just breaking and the mountains were
shrouded in mist.  Mikora had their horses and fresh supplies waiting.
Hugs and thanks were exchanged, and the travelers set out once again
on their quest.

End of Chapter Thirteen

THE DARK QUEEN
The Magician - Book Three
by Jennifer Lyon (Jenni10647@AOL.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@AOL.com)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

See the Prologue for detailed Disclaimer and Author's note. The X- Files
belongs to Chris Carter, the Realm, all of the other characters, and the
remainder of this story are solely our own invention, copyright 1996.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Fourteen

        As they descended from the mountains the air got
progressively more sultry, enough to be uncomfortable.  Mulder had
stripped off his heavy Mage-cloak candlemarks before.  Scully,
Shannon and Jhorgab were also down to their loose white shirts.
Finally they caught a zephyr carrying the scent of ocean.
        "Mulder, can we picnic on the beach?  Please?" called out
Shannon from behind.  "Picnic" did not translate in New Realm, and
Jhorgab leaned across to poke at her.
        "This 'picnic' - does this mean food, by any chance?  Because
I'm going to fall out of my saddle if we don't stop to eat something
soon.  Is there food in the offing, Mage Mulder?" he called.  "I'm
seriously famished, I really am."
        Mulder surveyed the sun high in the sky.  "I guess it is about
that time.  All right, a picnic on the beach it is.  Assuming there is a
beach, that is."
        Moments later the ocean was in sight, a beautiful deep blue
punctuated by areas of emerald.  Shannon and Jhorgab raced ahead
and were off their mounts and cavorting by the shore by the time
Mulder and Scully rode up.  That the beach was more shale than sand
did not seem to make a difference.  It verged on a grassy area, where
the adults unsaddled the horses and tethered them to graze at leisure.
The younger members of the party were detailed to find driftwood for
a fire while Mulder and Scully rooted through their supplies to find
the makings for lunch.
        "The Realm could really use some fast food places,"
Shannon commented when she returned, arms full of driftwood.
"This is going to take forever, and if I have to listen to Jhorgab whine
about being hungry for one more minute...."
        "Maybe I can do something about that," smiled the Mage.  A
little concentration, a few words, and the fire was roaring.
        "You're going to be in big demand at barbecues," Shannon
said goodnaturedly.  "But I'd still like a Big Mac and an order of -"
        "Big Mac?  Who is Big Mac?" demanded Jhorgab.
        "Not who - what."  By the time she was through explaining,
the little troll was salivating all over his chin.
        "How soon will there be FOOD?  Shannon, that was very
unkind to tell me about Big Mac.  I'm dying of hunger!"
        She laughed. "Well, you asked."
        "In the future," he said archly, "tell me AFTER I've eaten."
        "Coming right up, Jhorgab."  Scully handed him a plate
heaped with sizzling meat strips, a large wedge of cheese, some black
bread, and fruit.  "That should help."  Realm etiquette
notwithstanding, the hungry troll squatted where he stood and tucked
into his lunch.
        She served Shannon, then carried her plate and Mulder's to
where he was standing, in an area partially shaded by large rocks.
They made themselves comfortable and ate.  Then they laid back in
each other's arms, propped up by a large boulder, sleepily drinking in
the lulling swell of the ocean, listening to the waves crash and hiss
upon the shore.  Eventually Shannon and her constant companion
found them.
        "Hey Mulder, we've finished - and washed our plates.  Can
we go beachcombing?"
        "Beachcomb?  Is this more food?" Jhorgab inquired eagerly.
        "In your case,"  Mulder said dryly, "probably.  Yeah, okay,
but stay within sight, don't be gone long, and no swimming for an
hour - you've just eaten."
        Shannon grimaced.  "That's just an old wives' tale.  But
okay, the water's freezing anyway.  Bye!"
        She began to race up the beach on her long coltish legs, the
little troll hard-pressed not to lose sight of her as he hurried after.
        "Mulder, I'm going to fall asleep if I stay here," Scully
murmured comfortably.
        "There's something wrong with that?"
        "Yeah, I have to move, work out some of the stiffness from
riding."  //Besides, I don't trust myself with you.  There's something
about the sea air and the way you look right now, in that very
attractive open shirt....\\
        //There's something wrong with that?\\ he repeated, eyes
twinkling.
        "They won't be gone that long, unfortunately.  Besides, I
think Shannon's already convinced we're sex maniacs.  Come on,
Mulder, a walk will be good for you.  Let's go look for shells."  She
stood and held out a hand, hauling him to his feet.
        "Okay," he grumbled.  "I liked your first idea better,
though."
        They followed the others' path, but slowly, inspecting the
shoreline for the familiar and the unfamiliar.
        "Hey!"  A voice called from the distance.  "Come and see
what we found!"
        They trotted up the beach toward where Shannon and
Jhorgab stood, next to a huge dark shape.  As they got closer, the
shape coalesced into the carcass of some gigantic sea creature.
        Mulder strode around the animal's body, some forty paces.
It had roughly the shape of a walrus or manatee, but was covered in
iridescent scales that shone like precious gems.  The head was huge,
with a great gaping maw.  Its lips were peeled back in death to reveal
triple rows of needle-like teeth as long as a man's handspan.  The
dorsal fin, easily five meters long, stood up like spikes, with barbs at
the end of each.
        "Don't touch it," warned Scully.  "At worst it might be
poisonous, at best, horribly unsanitary."  Indeed, the stench of rot was
almost overwhelming.  "Do you know what it is, Jhorgab?"
        "Well, now that you ask, I cannot be certain, but it does bear
an interesting resemblance to a creature I once heard described.  I was
in...let me see, was it Port Abrea, perhaps?...well, I forget now
exactly where I was, but there were some fellow traders there and
they were telling a story about some people they had recently done
some business with, sailors they were.  The sailors said - now, I think
I have this right - the sailors said that they had found that something
was entangled in their nets one night, but of course, since it was dark,
they decided to wait until the morning to investigate, and -"
        "Jhorgab, what's it called?"
        "I was getting to that, Warrior-Healer Scully.  Humans are
so impatient."
        "And so are trolls, when it comes to food.  Get on with it."
        "It's called a sea devil.  An appropriate name, if I do say so
myself.  I saw only a tooth that the traders bought from one of the
sailors, but it looked quite similar to those."  He shuddered a bit.  "It
has been said that sea devils hunt in packs, and can overturn boats and
consume whole crews.  And you're right - the tips of the dorsal spines
are deadly poisonous."
        "Now aren't you glad I told you not to go swimming?"
Mulder kidded Shannon.  "You would have made a tasty morsel."
She wrinkled her nose at him, and started walking back down the
beach to where their horses stood tethered.  Jhorgab rushed to catch
up.
        "Shannon, you must explain to me this fascination you seem
to have with the whole idea of swimming.  If the Goddess meant for
us to immerse ourselves in water, she would have made us sea
creatures and given us fins.  I really do not see why..."  Mercifully, his
voice faded as the pair trudged across the rocky beach.
        The Mage and healer followed, arm in arm.  "Now, see,
Mulder, you had a nice walk and even got to see a sea monster.  What
more can you ask for?"
        "I could tell you, but we don't have the time to act on it,
anyway."
                                        - - - - -

        They rode all afternoon, the climate increasingly tropical as
they neared the Greenswan Delta.  The ground became boggy in
places, slowing the pace of the journey as they were forced to
circumnavigate the swampy areas.  The vegetation had changed from
the grass of the plains to strange mosses and plants they had never
encountered before.  At one point, Scully jumped down off her horse
to collect some fruit that looked and tasted a lot like cranberries, and
several handfuls of a watercress-like green.  "I saw this in one of
Corvay's formularies - it tastes good and also has medicinal
properties.  Who knows - it might come in handy."
        When they came to the first estuary, Jhorgab guided them
north along its banks.  Later, the sun low in the sky, Mulder spotted
the cleft rock and two tall evergreens that Tarnor told him marked the
fording pace.  The little band dismounted and looked at the
Greenswan River in dismay.
        "Something's wrong.  This can't be the right place,"
exclaimed Mulder.
        "Oh, no, Mage.  I assure you, the maps were quite clear.
This is surely the right place," replied Jhorgab.  "But I am at a loss to
explain the condition of the river.  Many of my family and clan have
made this crossing, and never have I heard it described as anything
more than a gentle stream."  The Greenswan had overflowed its banks
and now swept by them, turbulent and muddy.  He looked nervously
at the magician.  If he suspected that he had led him astray, guided
him to the wrong place - well, everyone had heard tales of what
happened when the wrath of a Mage was incurred.  "I swear, Mage
Mulder, never has this part of the river been known to behave like
this."
        "That's okay, Jhorgab.  Is there a place we can cross, further
up?"
        "I'm afraid not.  I know of only as far as the southernmost
part of the Greenswan Forest, but there's no crossing place between
here and there, of that I am most certain."
        Mulder nodded grimly.  "It appears that we have a decision
to make then.  Thanks, Jhorgab."
        The little troll nodded and rejoined Shannon by the horses.
        //What do you think?\\  Her presence was cool, confident in
his mind.
        //You heard him - this is the only place we can cross.  I don't
like it.  The current's much faster than it should be down here.
According to Tarnor, it should be little more than a quiet stream at
this point.\\
        //Do you think our mysterious friend is at work again?\\
        //I wouldn't be a bit surprised.  I can smell the stink of it -
black magic - in the air.  I think the only thing I can do is try to
levitate each of us across in turn.\\
        //Well, it beats trying to ride.  Okay, send me first.\\
        //Like hell you'll go first!\\
        "Mulder, for once, THINK!"  Looking around guiltily to
Shannon and Jhorgab, she saw that her sudden outburst had startled
them.  Scully turned back to her bondmate.  //So it's not a perfect
solution, Mulder!  Who do YOU suggest we send across first?
Jhorgab?  Shannon?  We don't know what's on the other side.  They
wouldn't stand a chance if a wild animal came out of those woods and
attacked them.  And what if something happens to the spell?  I know
Jhorgab can't swim, and I don't know how strong a swimmer Shannon
is.\\  Seeing the mulish expression on his face, feeling him shield his
thoughts from her, but knowing what he was thinking anyway, she
continued.  //And you can just forget it!  You can't go first.  You need
to stand by ready to bail me out if I get into trouble.  If you go and
something happens, I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.
Besides which, I don't think an animal leaping on you from behind
would do much for your powers of concentration.\\
        His eyes flashed and his hands were balled into fists.  //What
do you think separating is going to do to you?  You know we can
barely get a few feet apart without getting dizzy and nauseated.
What's that going to do to you, alone on the opposite bank?\\
        Her angry expression softened as she felt his fear for her
radiating through the bond.  //I'll be careful.  Once I get across, you
three follow.  With a little luck, we'll only be separated for a few
minutes.\\  She reached up and twined her arms around his neck.  //I
have to go first, Mulder.  You know I do.  Don't make it harder for
both of us.\\
        His lips claimed hers in a fierce kiss, then he reluctantly
pulled away and nodded, a small, worried half-smile twisting his face.
//I know.  But I don't have to like it.\\
        She squeezed his hand, and stood by the edge of the river.
        "Shannon and Jhorgab, get back and out of the way. Okay,
Scully.  But please - be careful."
        He stood on the bank and carefully grounded.  Nothing
would go wrong, he told himself.  Nothing COULD go wrong.  He
closed his eyes and visualized the words to the simple spell, his lips
moving as he read them in his mind.  His aura flared, and Scully felt
herself slowly rising, floating out over the turbulent river.
        Suddenly, the words before his eyes blurred, to be replaced
by surrealistic, nightmarish flashes - images of putrescence and bloody
death and tragic loss.  His concentration wavered for only a split
second, but it was enough.  Scully plummeted into the boiling,
seething river.
        "SCULLY!"
        Mulder mounted and tore off down the riverbank,
desperately trying to keep the bobbing head in sight.  Somehow he
managed to get a little ahead of the helpless figure.  He reined his
horse in and was off the animal in the same movement.  Taking a split
second to concentrate and ground, he stretched out his arms.  Blue
light surged around him and sparks danced from his fingertips.
Scully's body flew out of the water and floated toward him.  Gently,
he caught her and lowered her to the riverbank.
        She was coughing, retching up river water.  "Dana, are you
all right?"  He bent down, holding her head, brushing back the
dripping hair from her face.  //God, Dana, I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.\\
He held her and crooned the mantra over and over, rocking her in his
arms.  She felt his horror and guilt wash over her, unbearable,
overwhelming.
        //It's okay.  I'm all right.\\  She sent wave after wave of
reassurance, until she finally felt him becoming calmer.
        He scanned her face anxiously.  "I-I don't know what
happened.  I had you, there was no problem, when suddenly my head
was filled with the most disgusting, loathsome images.  I was startled,
and I lost my focus for just an instant, and -"
        "Mulder, it's okay.  It doesn't matter.  It wasn't your fault."
        He was silent for several moments and then his mouth
twisted into a wry smile.  "Actually, as uncharacteristic as it may be, I
agree with you."  He quickly sobered.  "Those images didn't come
from me - they were imposed upon me by someone else.  It was
horrible, Scully, like someone was raping my mind."
        "Black magic?"
        He nodded.  "Someone's not happy with our plans to cross
the river."  He bent and lifted her in his arms, setting her on his horse,
and walked them back to where Jhorgab and Shannon anxiously
waited.  Then he helped his bondmate down, catching her when her
legs proved too shaky for support. //All right?\\  His look was
concerned, but at her nod he reluctantly let her go.  She was shaking
with cold and shock, but as they were both aware, it could have been
so much worse.
        "What are we going to do now?"  asked Shannon.
        Scully squared her shoulders and spoke with a confidence
she didn't feel. "I'll give it another try.  Mulder knows what to expect
now, and -"
        "We will NOT give it another try."  Mulder's voice cut
across Scully's.  "That's not the natural smell of the river, Scully.  The
dark forces are still at work here, and the stink of them is
everywhere."
        They sat dejectedly on the muddy ground.  "But why,
Mulder?  Do you think someone is trying to prevent us from reaching
Hannu?"
        He nodded.  "Right now it's the best evidence we have that
he exists - the fact that it is very important to someone that we never
find him."
        "And to find him, we have to get across the river."
        "I know - and it's starting to get dark."  He scanned the river,
but saw no letup in the flow of the current.  If anything, more of the
bank had been eroded and the river's level had risen slightly.
        They thought furiously.  Suddenly Scully's face lit up.
"Mulder - the miniature Oracle crystals!  Do you think you could
contact Reinald, and somehow between the two of you, cook up
something that will get us across in one piece?"
        His quick smile warmed her.  "It's worth a shot.  Shan- Oh,
thanks."  The girl set the small pouch of crystals in his hand.
        Mulder drew one of the crystals from the pouch.  The others
withdrew slightly to allow him to concentrate.  Clouds swirled before
his eyes, gradually forming the face of the old Mage.
        "Reinald - we're in a bit of a jam here."
        "I had assumed as much.  Where are you?"
        "We're trying to cross the Greenswan River.  We almost lost
Scully on the first attempt.  I think our mysterious Black Mage is at
work here, and it's not the first time on this trip."
        The Royal Mage frowned.  "I don't like the sound of that at
all.  All right, how wide is the river there?"
        "About, oh, fifty paces or so.  And it's deep, some of the
bank has been washed away.  Do you have anything in your bag of
tricks we could use?  I tried levitating Scully across, and I was hit by
a wave of the most horrible, vile..."
        "That's all right, my boy.  I can well imagine. No, you'd
better not try that again."  He paused for a moment, thinking.
"Theoretically, we could apply the same principles we use in
constructing Gates to build a kind of bridge.  It would certainly be the
fastest way to get you all across."
        "Theoretically?"
        "Well, I don't know that it's ever been done before.  But at
least I would be here if you needed me."
        "Not a great time for an experiment, Reinald,"  Mulder said
dryly, surveying the rampaging river.  "But I don't see any other way.
Tell me what to do."
        The two began to converse in Old Realm, seeking the right
words, the right gestures, the right strength of power to construct the
bridge.  Finally they switched back to New Realm.
        "You'll be doing most of it yourself, Mulder.  There's no
choice.  You're the one who's there, who has the better idea of what's
necessary.  I'll stand by and maintain the connection in case you need
help."
        "Thanks, Reinald.  Hold on."  He turned to the others and
quickly explained what he was going to do.  "You're going to need to
move fast and keep the animals under control.  Scully, stay next to
me.  I can't afford to get dizzy or lose my concentration."
        "Is this as dangerous as building a Gate?"  she asked, the
concern growing in her eyes.
        "I don't think so.  But it's going to be a little tricky, if only
because it's never been done before."  He smiled crookedly at her,
trying vainly to coax a smile in return.  He sobered and caressed her
cheek, sending a quick flash of reassurance her way.  "Okay, ready?"
He looked around, noting that Shannon and Jhorgab had tied their
tunics over the horses' faces to blind them to the sparks that would
soon be flying.  Nodding his approval, he snaked an arm around
Scully's shoulder, gathering her as close to himself as possible.  Then
he readied himself.
        He frowned in concentration as his aura flared.  Coils of
blue-white light coursed down his arms to emerge as sparks, leaping
and dancing from his fingertips. Thunder rolled in the heavens.
Suddenly, a wide shaft of crackling light shot into the air in front of
him, spectacular and brilliant against the night sky.  Carefully, he bent
it to his will, arching it gently over the river and sinking the end deep
into the riverbank on the opposite side.
        "Okay, let's go!"  yelled Scully over the noise.  Shannon and
Jhorgab led the nervous, plunging horses onto the bridge and began to
cross, the bondmates following close behind.  Scully could feel her
hair standing on end, charged by the power surrounding them.
        They had reached the dead center of the bridge when she felt
his concentration falter.  The bridge under her feet grew less firm,
almost muddy, as her feet began to sink beneath the blue-white light.
//Mulder!\\
        He struggled desperately to keep the spell under control.
Shuddering with the effort, he forced his mind to ignore the bizarre
and nightmarish images that were flooding into it.  Suddenly, he felt
Scully and Reinald in his mind, supporting him, supporting the spell,
helping him to focus his energy.  The bridge solidified once more and
the travelers hurried over it to the safety of the eastern riverbank.
Then the span disappeared as Mulder fell to his knees, exhausted and
drained.  Scully huddled over him protectively, feeling the trembling
in his limbs.
        "I'm all right,"  he gasped.  "I'm all right."
        She grabbed the crystal from his hand.  "Reinald!"  she
growled, as the Mage coalesced into view.  "What the hell
happened?"
        "It was close, my dear.  Very close.  There was interference
with the spell again.  Someone was trying to break into it, to disrupt
it.  Mulder had to do some very fancy footwork to keep it together."
        "He's shaking like a leaf and can't even stand.  What's it done
to him?"
        "Are you all right?"
        "I've been better.  But what about Mulder?"
        "He just needs rest, as do you.  The effects will pass."
        Scully surveyed the dark forest.  "Well, we have to make
camp for the night at this point, anyway.  But I want to get away from
the river, just in case."
        "A wise plan, Warrior Healer.  As you get closer to your
goal, I think you can expect more problems.  Take care."
        "We will, Reinald.  Thank you for your help."
        The clouds swirled again and the Royal Mage was gone.
        She bent over Mulder.  //Do you think you could ride for a
little while?  We need to find a place away from the river where we
can camp for the night.\\
        He nodded weakly and she helped him to his feet.  Still
clutching her, he took some deep breaths, then let go and swung up
into his saddle.  The others remounted and fell in behind.  Then the
weary travelers slowly moved along the path through the dark, silent
woods in search of a place to rest for the night.
                                        - - - - -

       It had gone on for candlemarks.  Thunder rumbled outside and a
fierce wind tore at the vines covering the windows.  Lightning
illuminated the dark room in surrealistic flashes as her anger coiled
with the elements themselves. Below, servants trembled and ran for
the furthest reaches of the castle to huddle in terror.  She yanked so
hard on the bell pull that it tore from its attachment and came off in
her hand.  Screaming in frustration, she flung it into the hearth, where
it caught with a sick, weak flame. Finally, exhausted, she sank down
into the chair and massaged her temples.  When the shaking servant
presented himself, she whispered, "Bring him here now" in a tone that
turned his blood to ice.
        "Y-yes, Your Majesty."  He fled to do her bidding.
        She closed her eyes but her memory taunted her.  What was
his secret?  Was the damnable Blue Mage indestructible?  His way
with a spell might have brought her admiration, were they not
implacably aligned as enemies.  Today she had thrown everything at
him she could, at least from this distance, and all for naught.
Throughout their journey, the travelers had been unaffected by her
work, that which had brought so much satisfying carnage to so many
places.  She had even - almost - converted their friend, the soldier, to
satisfying her need for blood and hatred.  And then he had reneged at
the last moment.  But the travelers - the Blue Mage and his company -
continued their quest, hardly slowed by the challenges she had
presented them.  Challenges that could not have failed to be
successful in others.   Should have been successful with them.
        She sprang from her chair in frustration.  Why didn't it work?
By now they should have been corpses, cast up bloated on the
riverbank. Certainly the interference of that old busybody hadn't
helped.  She was beginning to see what Drellor disliked about
Reinald.  But still - what was she doing wrong?
        She needed to know more.  Somewhere, the Blue Mage had
a weakness, perhaps many.  It was just a matter of finding out what
they were.  The little fool was going to provide that knowledge
tonight, to his everlasting sorrow.  Somewhere there had to be
something useful in the tiny brain of that corpulent rodent.
        He crept into her workroom, trembling from head to toe,
and opened his mouth to speak.
        "DON'T say anything.  Nothing.  Not a word."
        Mutely, he nodded.  She added the powdery contents of a
skin bag to a goblet of lizard's blood, and raising it to her lips, drained
it.  Running her tongue over bloodstained teeth and lips, she motioned
for him to stand in the center of the room.
        Much as he wanted to avoid angering her further, Drellor
could not get his limbs to obey him.  He was too stunned by this
sudden reversal in his fortunes.  He had a bargain with her!  Well, a
bargain of sorts, and he had held up his end of it, telling her
everything he knew about Mage Mulder.  How did he deserve this
kind of treatment?  He bit off a strangled cry as a force seized him and
shoved him into the middle of the chamber.
        She smiled, the coldest, most evil smile he had ever seen.  "I
told you that I needed information.  If you had cooperated, we would
be launching our plan right now.  Instead, I'm no better off than
before you came."
        Drellor's voice worked no better than his limbs.  He opened
his mouth, but only a garbled squawk emerged.
        "No matter.  It is just possible that you are in possession of
something helpful without being aware of it.  We are about to find
out."
        She closed her eyes, her lips moving to words only she
knew, the potion coursing through her body, catalyzing the spell.
Drellor's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the floor,
insensible.  For some time they were motionless, the dark lady and the
fool.  Then with a gasp, she opened her eyes and breathed deeply.
Drellor lay twitching on the cold stone floor.
        Again she smiled.  Her instincts had been correct.  The worm
did know more than he realized - something overheard that he had
stupidly thought was unimportant.  And now she just might have the
key to the Blue Mage's destruction.

                                        - - - - -

        She was in his mind, gently awakening him.  He sat up with a
start, momentarily confused.
        //It's all right.  We've stopped for the night.  You've been
asleep for a few hours now.  I've made some soup if you're
interested.\\
        //Very interested. I'm starved.\\
        She handed him a bowl brimming with a thick savory soup,
and a chunk of black bread.  She took her own serving and sat close
beside him.
        "Mmm, this is great.  Were you the cook tonight?"
        "Well, I had to stick close to you, so it sort of precluded my
searching for firewood or checking out the area,"  she said dryly.  "So
that left cooking.  How are you feeling now?"
        "Great.  I just don't remember getting here.  The last thing I
remember is getting on my horse at the river."
        "Yeah, you were pretty much out of it by the time we found
this place.  You literally fell out of your saddle.  We had to drag you
off the path."
        He looked around.  To their backs was a high wall of solid
rock which curved in an arc around them.  They faced out onto deep
forest, the trail twenty paces to their right.  "Well, I picked a very
strategic spot to fall off my horse, anyway.  Where are the kids?"
        She pointed a short distance to their left.  "Sleeping.  They
were exhausted."
        "You look pretty exhausted yourself.  And -"  His brow knit
in concern, as he touched her through their bond.  "Something else.
Fever?"
        "Yeah.  A souvenir of my impromptu dip in the Greenswan."
Now he noticed the unhealthy glitter in her eyes and the flush of her
cheeks.  "Don't worry.  I drank some tea made from those greens I
picked today.  It should help."
        "Have you eaten all you want?"  Wrinkling her nose, she
nodded.  He took the nearly untouched soup from her and set it aside.
"All right.  Get some sleep."
        "Mulder - we have to keep watch, just in case."
        "I know.  I won't need any more sleep for a while.  I'll keep
an eye on things.  If I get tired, I'll wake Shannon or Jhorgab."
        She protested weakly, but in the end allowed him to spread
his warm, thick Mage-cloak on the ground and she lay down on it
gratefully.  He lay beside her for a while, holding her in his arms until
her soft even breathing told him she was asleep.  He gently extricated
himself and standing, put some more logs on the fire.  Then he sat
propped against the wall, the stone still warm from the sun, listening
to the quiet night sounds of the forest and the snap of the campfire.
        Well, a little of this goes a long way, he thought.  Where's a
good video when you need one?  He pulled over his saddlebags and
extracted the scroll Reinald had given him.  He hadn't had the time to
work on deciphering it for several days. Its mysteries intrigued him,
and if nothing else, it would help him to pass the time.
        Mulder had no more than scanned the first few lines of
symbols when he gasped.  Excited, he brought the scroll closer to the
fire, to assure himself that he was not imagining things.  Damn, I wish
Afla were here, he thought.  For now he realized what had looked so
frustratingly familiar on the gargoyle walls.  The symbols on the scroll
were close - very close - to those he had seen in Afla's cave.  They
were a little more intricate on the scroll, but still for the most part
recognizable.  Now all I have to do is find someone fluent in the old
gargoyle tongue, Mulder thought, and we should be able to -
        Without warning the fire flared, the flames doubling in size.
Mulder shrank back, heart pounding.  A sudden violent gust of wind
tore the scroll from his hand and carried it to the heart of the inferno.
With a loud popping sound, sparks shot from the fire, covering Scully
in burning embers.  Fighting the panic caused by the fire, Mulder
dropped to his knees and frantically wrapped her in his cloak,
smothering the dozen or so places where her clothing had started to
smolder.  She began to struggle beneath his hands.  //Wh-what...?\\
        "It's okay," he panted. "The fire just flared and some sparks
got on you.  Are you all right?  Burned anyplace?"
        "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."  Taking one look at his pale visage,
she knew that he had been shaken.  "How did it happen?"
        "I don't know.  I was reading the scroll-  Oh God, the
scroll!"  He looked around and found a long stick.  Desperately he
poked and prodded in the fire, trying to find the ancient document.  "I
was trying to decipher Reinald's scroll," he explained as he searched.
"Remember when I said that the gargoyle symbols reminded me of
something?  Virtually the same symbols appear on the scroll.  But
now it may...Yes!"  He deftly jerked the stick, and the furled scroll
slid onto the end.  Carefully, he removed it from the fire.
        "Mulder, it didn't burn!  How is that possible?"
        "Reinald did a little spell casting before we left.  I'll have to
congratulate him on its effectiveness.  See Scully - this symbol here -
and here?  They are almost identical to symbols we saw on the walls
of Afla's cave."
        She looked at the document doubtfully.  "I'll have to take
your word for that, Mulder.  Not being blessed with a photographic
memory, I really can't say that I recognize them.  What do you think
they mean?"
        "I don't know.  We need to find someone who speaks the old
gargoyle language.  But Reinald was convinced that this scroll was
very significant, possibly even containing the instructions for casting
some spells that have been lost for eons - those Lost Powers we were
talking about before we left."  His face clouded.  "In which case the
fire may not have been an accident.  The timing was just too perfect."
        Scully cast a glance over to the recumbent forms of Jhorgab
and Shannon to make sure they were asleep.  Then she turned to him,
her brow furrowed with worry.  "Mulder, someone knows a lot more
about us and what we're doing than I'm comfortable with.  Every step
of the way, we've had problems.  And now they're more and more
specific to US.  Washed out roads and animal or brigand attacks
could happen to anyone.  They could be explained as coincidence or
just plain bad luck.  But someone would have to know exactly who
and what you are to cause the problems we've been having today.
They would have to know about our mission and the reasons for it,
and want to stop it, using any and all power at their disposal.  And
that just scares the hell out of me."
        He nodded slowly.  "They have an advantage we don't have -
they apparently know all about us and we know nothing about them."
        She shivered a little, and he gathered the Mage-cloak around
her shoulders.  "Go back to sleep.  The sun will be up in a few
candlemarks."  He brushed his lips with hers, and she settled down
once more.  He sat by her side, staring out into the forest.  She wasn't
the only one who was worried.

                                        - - - - -

        Hunched against the trunk of a tree, Jhorgab dozed, his head
nodding gently up and down in rhythm with his breathing.  When he
had no longer trusted himself to stay awake a candlemark before,
Mulder had roused the little troll to take his turn at watch.  Jhorgab
had wakened readily enough, but a short time later had been
powerless to stop his heavy eyelids from closing.
        Shannon slept soundly a few meters away.  Whether because
of the fever or the herbs she took to combat it, Scully's sleep was
deeper than normal, a heavy dreamless slumber.  Mulder turned,
frowning in his usual disturbed, dream-tossed sleep that afforded little
rest.
        "Fox!"
        His eyes opened.  He shifted yet again.  That was a dream he
was familiar with, but no amount of familiarity could make it any less
troubling, any less painful.  He willed his eyes to close once more.
        "Fox!"
        His eyes popped open.  This was no dream - he had HEARD
that distant cry, not imagined it.  He sat up, tense, expectant.
        "Fox!  Help me, Fox!"
        Springing to his feet, he peered into the dark forest in the
direction from which the sound had come.  He couldn't see anything,
but the voice had sounded close.
        "Fox!  I need you!"
        Slowly, he pushed his way through the underbrush.  Mist
swirled at the floor of the forest and the twin moons cast eerie
dappled light and shadow through the trees.  He acted purely on an
instinctive level, not considering for a moment the impossibility of
Samantha's being here, in this strange world.  He knew only that she
was calling him, calling out as she had done over twenty years before.
And maybe - just maybe - this time he would be able to save her.
        He had gone only a few paces when the first wave of
dizziness hit him.  Taking a deep breath, he pressed on through the
trees, his pace becoming faster every time he heard the childish voice
cry out for him.
        "Fox!  Help me, please!  They're hurting me!"
        He was now running, face and limbs scratched by a hundred
branches, torn by a thousand thorns.  The pain in his head and joints
was almost unbearable, and vertigo caused him to lose his balance and
fall repeatedly.  Each time, he crawled back to his feet, a little weaker
as the distance increased between him and his bondmate.  He heard
only the sound of his sister's voice, calling from deeper and deeper in
the woods, calling for him.  Animals, small rodents disturbed by his
thrashing scurried for cover, and night birds ceased their song as he
plunged past.  Near now, larger animals growled and screamed.
        "Fox!  Please help me, they're taking me!"
        Tears mixed with rivulets of sweat were running down his
face.  The whole horrible nightmare, unbearable the first time, was
happening again.  No, he couldn't let it, not again.  He struggled to
move his leaden feet forward toward the sound of the cries, and fell
once more.  Too dizzy to make it to his feet, he crawled through the
underbrush, head pounding, stomach lurching.
        "Please, Fox!  Please!  Don't leave me alone with them!
Why won't you help me?"
        Her voice was sobbing now, full of pain, confused and
distraught by his abandonment.  With a desperate growl, Mulder
staggered to his feet.  "I'm coming, Samantha!  I'm coming!"  He
retched and spat, choking on bitter bile, and continued to weave
through the forest for fifty more painful meters.
        Finally he fell and could no longer move.  His lungs, his skin,
were on fire and his muscles cramped agonizingly.  His mind was
worse, as the childish cries now turned to screams of terror, and like
so many years before, all he could do was listen.  "Oh, God.
Samantha, I'm sorry!" he wept.  His last conscious thought was that
he had once again failed.
                                            - - - - -

        Scully awoke, muscles cramping and her head throbbing.  At
first she thought that her fever had become worse, that perhaps she
had caught some disease from the river water.  Then her mind felt a
huge gap, and she suddenly turned over.  Mulder was nowhere to be
seen.
        She was on her feet in a second, and back on the ground a
second later, head swimming, throat tight, fighting the nausea that
seized her.  Damn it, where is he?  she thought.  "Jhorgab!  Jhorgab,
wake up!  Where's Mulder?"
        The troll sat up with a jerk, bleary-eyed.  An expression of
horror came over his fleshy green face.  "I don't know.  Oh, Goddess,
I'm sorry.  I fell asleep!  Goddess!  Scully, are you all right?  Were
you attacked?  Did someone carry off the Mage?  It's all my fault!  I'm
sorry, Warrior-Healer.  I just couldn't help myself, and now..."
        Shannon, awakened by Jhorgab's wailing, sprang to her feet,
sword in hand, and rushed to Scully's side.  "What happened, Dana?"
        Stomach heaving, Scully struggled to her feet.  The younger
girl grabbed her arm, steadying her.  "Mulder's gone...have to find
him," she gasped.
        "All right.  You stay here and Jhorgab and I will look for
him."
        "No!  Can't...have to get to him.  He's in trouble."
        "So are you, by the looks of you.  Jhorgab!  Stop your
whining and go get a horse, quick!"  She held Scully upright until the
little troll returned.  Together, they boosted the sweating, agonized
warrior up onto the back of the huge Realm steed.  "Can you tell
which way he went, Dana?"
        She raised her head, trying to feel him through their bond.
Her sense of him was weak, very weak and it frightened her.  "Yeah.
That way, I think."
        Jhorgab led the horse through the underbrush.  Shannon
walked beside the animal where space permitted, casting anxious
glances up at Scully.  The preternatural silence of the woods was
sliced through intermittently with the screams and snarls of wild
creatures, each time bringing Shannon's hand to the scabbard of her
sword.
        "We have to hurry,"  Scully urged.  She clung to the horse's
long, coarse mane, trying to ignore the pain, putting all her energy
into reaching out to Mulder through their bond.  //I'm coming.  Hold
on, I'm coming.\\  She was shaken by the lack of response.  "Please,
hurry.  A little to the left, between those bushes."
        Jhorgab guided the horse between the thickets, his sharp
eyes scanning the forest.  Suddenly he dropped the reins and darted
over to a thorn bush.  He removed a scrap of white cloth.  "He's been
here, this is from his shirt, I am certain.  Take heart, Warrior Healer,
we shall find him."  He quickened their pace.  Shannon's head snapped
around, startled by the snarl of another large animal nearby.
        Jhorgab shivered but did not slow.  "That sounds
uncomfortably like a woodscat.  Be alert, Shannon, they hunt in
packs."
        "Mulder's close,"  Scully called out suddenly.  "Keep an eye
out, Jhorgab!"  She finally felt him clearly through the bond, almost
semi-conscious but making a weak attempt to reach for her.  //We're
coming, love.  We're coming.\\
        The little troll led them through between two stands of trees.
From a bush nearby, a large piece of bloodstained white fabric
dangled on a finger-long thorn.  "There!"
        Mulder was in a small clearing, motionless in a patch of
moonlight.  Scully slid off her horse and staggered to the side of her
bondmate, touching him everywhere.  His shirt hung in tatters, his
skin was torn in a hundred places, he was pale and in shock - but he
was alive.
        //Glad...you could make it,\\ he joked weakly, and put out a
shaky hand to touch Scully's face.  Not strong enough herself to reach
in as a healer, she contented herself with catching his hand in hers and
clasping it to her, feeling the pain in her body ebb with the closeness.
        A short distance away, Jhorgab commented,  "It's fortunate
you collapsed when you did, Mage Mulder.  Shannon, take a look."
        She paced over to where the little troll stood, just beyond the
area illuminated by the twin moons.  "Shit!" she breathed.  They stood
at the edge of a chasm.  A hundred meters below, the moonlight
picked out jagged, fang-like rocks in sharp relief.  She turned back to
where the Mage still rested on the ground.  "He's right, Dana.
Another ten paces and Mulder would have been history."
        Jhorgab drew back from the edge and rejoined the group.
"Now, if I may be so bold, I would like to suggest that we get out of
here with all due speed.  I have seen the yellow eyes of several
woodscats nearby, and I believe it may be a good idea to-"
        "Help me get him on the horse,"  Scully urged.  The troll and
Shannon assisted Scully to awkwardly boost the tall, limp form of the
Mage onto the broad back of the horse.  Then she swung up behind
him, encircling him with her arms.  "Lead us out of here, Jhorgab!"
        They had taken no more than a few paces when the little troll
stopped.  Almost at the same moment, three large, dark, slinky forms
emerged from the forest and immediately fanned out.  With the
precipice to their backs, all means of avoiding the creatures had been
cut off.
        Shannon drew her sword and stepped in front of Jhorgab.
Scully jumped down from the horse and reached for her own sword,
realizing only now that in her haste to reach Mulder, she had left it on
the ground back at the camp.  She crouched to draw the knife from
her boot as the first animal sprang.
        Shannon leapt in front of Scully and met the animal's charge.
She caught it deftly in the midsection on the tip of her sword, the
weight of the beast driving the blade in deeply.  It went down with a
scream, still writhing, trapping the girl beneath it  She struggled out
from under it, rolling to the side still grasping her sword.  A huge
clawed paw swiped at her, ripping through the skin of her leg.
Furiously she slashed, her blade severing the arteries in the creature's
neck.  It gurgled for a moment, then was still.
        Maddened by the smell of blood, the other two beasts hurled
themselves at the women, fangs bared.  Jhorgab struggled to hold
onto the frightened horse, as it reared back in a frantic attempt to
distance itself from the attacking woodscats.  "Jhorgab!"  Mulder
gasped, clinging to the mount's neck.  Not a meter away from the
dancing back hooves was the edge of the chasm.  With all his
strength, the troll pulled the panicked horse forward, away from the
edge.  His own danger temporarily averted, Mulder now looked on
horror as the two women who meant the most to him fought a deadly
battle with the remaining woodscats.
        Shannon had slashed at her attacker with her sword, and the
wary beast now circled her just out of the reach of her blade, looking
for any weakness, any mistake on the part of its prey.  A few paces
away, Scully grappled with the snarling creature that was twice her
size, desperately trying to avoid the huge fangs as she sunk her knife
over and over into the heavily muscled shoulders of the beast.  The
two were covered in the beast's blood as they rolled on the ground.
Impatient for its kill, Shannon's beast suddenly sprang at the girl.
Almost at the same moment, Scully's knife, slick with blood, slipped
from her grasp.  Sick with terror, Scully looked up into the evil eyes
as the blue-black beast started for her throat.
        A blue glow suffused the clearing.  Mulder sat high in the
saddle, arms stretched out over his head, shockwaves of blue energy
emanating from his hands.  Jhorgab and the two women fighting for
their lives were caught in the waves, feeling the electric tingle of the
spell.  More importantly, so did the two beasts they fought.  Sensing
the force, they recoiled from their prey, snarling and snapping in
frustration as they reluctantly backed away.  The waves spread
further, forcing them back.  Finally, they withdrew snarling into the
forest.
        Jhorgab led the horse carrying the still-chanting Mage
forward.  Scully and Shannon picked themselves up and fell in behind,
limping.  The sky became rose tinted with the nearing dawn as Mulder
continued to chant, holding the little party in the safety of the blue
glow, as they moved slowly through the forest.
        Finally, in the comparative safety of their camp, his voice
croaked to a stop, and he fell senseless from the saddle.

End of Chapter Fourteen


THE DARK QUEEN
The Magician - Book Three
by Jennifer Lyon (Jenni10647@AOL.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@AOL.com)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

See the Prologue for detailed Disclaimer and Author's note. The X- Files
belongs to Chris Carter, the Realm, all of the other characters, and the
remainder of this story are solely our own invention, copyright 1996.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Fifteen

        She sat alone, quiet, her fury spent.  The servants had long
since retired in terror.  They had spent the best part of the past two
candlemarks fleeing the dark, dank corridors as they heard her
approach, muttering in her magic tongue, kicking out at
unfortunates who had not the sense to get out of her way.  The black
castle had trembled with her screams of rage.  Finally, after venting
her wrath on her weak, sniveling subjects, she had withdrawn to her
workroom to think.
        Again, it should have worked, and again, she had failed.
The fragments she had pulled from Drellor's terror-addled brain had
been valuable.  The plan had been foolproof.  The Mage had indeed
responded as she predicted to the sounds of his sister's cries for help.
Where Drellor had picked up this useful tidbit, she couldn't discern,
but it didn't matter.  The Mage had believed, had followed the pitiful
pleas for help from the safety of his camp into the dark forest.  But
he should have been following the sound as quickly as he could as
she drew him ever more deeply into her trap.  Running as fast as his
legs could carry him through the woods, past the clearing, until his
feet touched solid ground no more and he plummeted, to lie impaled
on the dagger-like rocks below.  Her eyes gleamed as she pictured
him there, perhaps weakly calling out to this child Samantha with
his dying breath, as his lifeblood dripped away to paint the stone
beneath him.
        She closed her eyes and opened them again, the gleam
gone. She had failed.  And it was a mystery to her why.  She knew
he was strong, she had fought a battle for his mind when he had
created the bridge, and she had lost.  True, before that she had
managed to startle him into dropping that annoying woman he
traveled with into the river.  But he would not allow that to happen
again.  He would be ready, as he had proven when casting the bridge
spell.  She had felt his force. The bridge spell was new - he had
created it and not had the time to test it properly - and yet his
control was superb, in spite of her best attempts at disruption.  That
sort of creativity was inauspicious in and of itself.  Linked to the
power she had seen, it was an unthinkable threat to her plans.  But
now - she didn't know what to think.
        Why did he collapse?  Could it be that he was as weak in
body as he was strong in Mage power?  She cast her mind back to
the images she had had of him, and licked her lips.  No, he was
well-formed - very well-formed, she thought salaciously - and
apparently healthy, and young.  No, he couldn't be a physical
weakling.  She toyed with the objects on the table in front of her -
body parts of reptiles, amulets, bags of powders and herbs - as she
pondered.  What had caused this powerful, young, healthy Mage to
collapse, mere paces from the fate she had designed for him?
        She shook her head and swept the tools of her trade from
the table with a restless thrust of her arm.  She couldn't get a clear
sense of this Mage Mulder at all.  If he were not so damnably PURE,
she thought with disgust.  He would be a consort worth having -
powerful, tall, well-favored.  She laughed softly, deep in her throat.
A consort who would doubtless know all kinds of intriguing ways to
pleasure a woman. The smile faded.  She knew his kind, too much
like the Other, and not likely to succumb to the tantalizing lure of
the Black Arts.  A waste, to be sure.  Once again, she put her mind
to the problem.  She had to find out more.  She knew some things
about him to be sure, but not enough. Not enough to guarantee his
demise.
        The Dark Queen got up and began to pace the damp,
noisome tower chamber.  So again, Mage Mulder had escaped.
Worse, he continued his quest for the Other.  The Blue Mage whom
she had battled and had done no more than achieve a draw.  The
Other, whom, along with Mulder, she feared as she had feared no
other adversary.  Together they could conceivably put a stop to her
plans for vengeance, if they went about it the right way.
        I must be more clever, she thought.  More clever than
Mulder, more clever than the Other, more clever than I have been
up to now.  I have to plan, and conserve my strength.  This Mage
Mulder will have to be exceptionally wise to find his way to the
Other.  She barked a short, humorless laugh.  The Other had
protected himself well, from friends as well as from enemies.  Very
well, let the protections the Blue Mage had constructed defeat them
all.  She would be the benefactor in the end.
        From deep in her soul, she felt the hunger stirring again,
refusing to be put down any longer.  Hunger that Mulder's bloody
death should have fed.  Sighing, she picked up the hematite sphere
and closed her eyes.  She felt the familiar thrum of her power as it
reverberated onto her fingertips.
        Somewhere there was a village ready to ig