Young Writers Society

Chapter 2

"I thought you said there were hexes and wards," Niyana said as they reached the end of the staircase.

"There were," Rame answered smugly. "Didn't you feel it? Someone knows we're here."

She turned on him. "What?!"

The thief smirked. "Relax, nymph. If they were really worried about us, they'd send more powerful spells, through these mirrors." He gestured around them at the many mirrors that lined the walls. "However, I'd hurry. Whoever set up the wards might've warned the Magicians."

"And you never told us!" she growled, raising her glowing palm. "You thieving rat!"

"Niyana!" Myles snapped, grasping her wrist and holding it down until the glowing stopped. "We don't have time for that! We'll find out his reasons once we have the tome."

"His reasons are clear enough!" she retorted. "He's going to get us killed!"

Despite the tension, Myles smiled wryly. "You know, you could always go back..."

"Don't be ridiculous," the nymph huffed, bristling. "You know I'm not going back."

When they turned, Rame had already cracked with his hands and pushed open the door.

The first thing they all saw was the seven magicians.

Rame froze, staring at the magicians in horror, then immdediatly he muttered a protection spell and sucked beneath it's hazy blue barriers.

The Magicians instantly sensed the magic and turned on them, emerging from their trance of summoning their creature.

Niayana cast Rame a venomous glare, then quickly pulled a dagger out of her cloak and slit the throat of the nearest magicians. instantly, she had two imps on her shoulders, acreeching and clawing at her cloak.

"Myles!" she cried, slapping one imp off and stepping hard on its neck, killing it instantly.

Myles yanked free a his broadsword that hung across his back, lunging for one magician who was summoning his own personal imps. the magician qucikly rolled away, but Myles was still agile despite his age, and the magician was dead before he finished his roll. Carried by the heavy weapon's momentum, Myles quickly guided it towards the man who started calling a hex behind his back, beheading the magic-user immediatly. He ducked aside to avoid another oncoming hex, but he saw, from the speed of the attacks, he wouldn't be able to dodge much longer.

"What stops magic?" Myles called to Niayana.

Niayan finally gained control of the other imp, larger than the first she had killed. "Rowan!" she answered.

The old man pulled out the rowan sheild Niyana had given him before. he hld it in front of him at the next magical attack, then winced as it cracked under the force of the magic.

Niyana quickly killed two more magicians before they could set more imps on her. She ran over to help Myles with the magician, but was instantly cut off by another. Muttering, Niyana threw her dagger into the leg of Myles' magician and turned to face the remaining opponent, palms glowing.

Niyana dodged his first attack, a flurry of red-orange fire that made Niyana break out in sweat. Quickly throwing herself aside, she hurled her own missels, white and blue fire of her own. The magician cried out and clutched his face as the fire froze the blood in his cheek, turning it a sickly blue.

The nymph jumped up and leaped at the man, knocking him down. He wildly threw another fireball as he went down, singing her bare forearm. But once she had him down, she planted her hand firmly over his chest and blasted her ice-fire straight into his heart.

Once he was dead, Niyana sat up, panting. She stood up, cursing as her arm seared at the movement, then went over to Myles' side. She walked with a limp; one of the imps must've bit her.

Myles' stood over the man, his broadsword on his chest threateningly. "Where is the book?" he snapped. "tell me, and I'll give you a quicker death than what the king will give you when he finds out about this."

The man sneered and spat in his face. Then he placed his hande over his temple shooting some a little bolt of lightening into his skull. He died instantly.

Myles brushed the spittle off of his cheek and sheathed his sword. "Well, he was pleasant company."

Niyana retreived her knife, then turned to see Rame emerge from his protection bubble. The nymph stormed towards him, screaming curses so lurid that even the thief winced.

"Coward!" she screamed. "Coward! You almost got us killed!"

Rame shrugged, appearing unconcerened but actually gauging the distance between the furious nymph and escape. "May I remind you that I took out all of the guards single-handedly?" he snapped.

"I don't beleive you did kill them!" she threw her hands in exasparation. "I thought thieves plunged in whenever there was a fight for a taste of blood! Yet here you cower behind your magic and watch us fight!"

Rame curled his lip in disgust. "I don't know how to use a weapon! I'm a pick-pocket and a sneak thief, not a mugger!"

Niyana started to answer, but Myles stepped forward. "Rame," He said quietly. "What would you have done if we died?"

Rame blinked. The thought hadn't occured to him.

He strode forward, glancing around for a change of subject. "They must be standing over an illusion," he muttered, bending down and rapping the stone floor. "I was sure they were standing over a Constellation..."

Niyana smirked. "We all have to be wrong sometimes, elf."

Rame gave her a dirty look and passed a hand over a section of the floor, whispering a spell. The stone under their feet and faded away, leaving a glass pane flowing with dark reds, magentas, royal blues, and blacks. Small silvery dots represented the real stars in the sky.

The thief sneered at Niyana's wide eyes. "Yes, we all have to be wrong sometimes, nymph."

Myles cast them both warning glances and inspected the Constellation. "I don't recongize this one," he admitted at last.

Rame stood and walked from star to star, the colors swirling under his feet. "Fyloin," he declared. "The seven-headed dragon that gaurds Second Hell."

Myles let out a low whistle. "Whoever warned the Magicians wasn't taking any chances."

Niyana nodded. "No wonder they didn't send any spells to stop us; they had that monster." She chuckled. "Or so they thought." She crouched next to a star and pressed her hand on a star, frowing in concentration. She smiled as the star moved to the right. "There. Now they can't summon him again unless they have enough energy to move that star back."

Rame smiled wickedly and smashed the glass with his heel. Niyana blinked as the cracks rushed under her palm. As soon as the magic underneath the glass came in contact with her bare skin, she was thrown against the wall.

Myles turned on him "Rame!"

The elf shrugged. "She burned my face and nearly killed me; I burned her hand and threw her across the room. I consider that fair."

Myles cast him a glare and rushed forward to help her up. Rame couldn't ignore her fiery gaze as she unsteadily got to her feet. He'd have to do something about that...

Then something caught his eye. "The tome's in there," he declared, rushing forward to the wooden coffer. He reached for the lid, then snapped his hands back, cursing.

"What is it?" Niyana snapped icily. "Are you finally backing out at the last moment?"

Rame set his jaw. "No. It's the imp."

Niyana rolled her eyes and shoved him aside. "What type?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because you value your life."

Rame frowned, not doubting that her words held some wieght. "It's a sylvan imp, only a few centuries old, foot tall."

Niyana nodded in satisfaction and rummaged around in her cloak. "Pockets are such wonderful things," she said to herself.

"We'll trap it in this if it comes out," she explained, pulling out an iron-framed mirror with a flourish. "Myles, could you help me?"

The old soldier knelt by her, hands ready. Rame stood behind them both, eager to see the nymph fail and ready to shove Myles away if the imp attacked.

Myles took a deep breath and flipped the lid open.

Nothing happened.

they all peered into the chest and burst out laughing.

"Well, it appears our little friend has run," Niyana chuckled, pulling out a small mirror. it was obvious by the long scorch mark on the glass that the little creature left through the mirror. She smashed it agaisnt the stone wall so that it couldn't return.

Rame grinned down at the ungaurded tome. "This thing wasn't as protected as they thought."

Myles regarded him with amusement. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it? Your still alive."

Rame scowled.

Niyana stroked the red leather cover, the energy of hte magic sending a shiver up her arm. "Wow," she breathed. "It's more pwerful than I thought."

"Can you carry it?" Myles asked worriedly.

The nymph pursed her lips and lifted the tome from the coffer. still shuddering, she placed the treasure in one of her many pockets.\

"Great," Myles sighed in releif. "Let's go."

* * *

King Elexter frowned and held up an iron chain. An iron-framed moonstone the size of his fist hung from it. "Brizzle, to me!"

There was a scuffle in the rafters as the small creature hurried to his comand. The king frowned as the imp glided down from the ceiling. It was the most obedient thing he had ever summoned; it was such a shame that he'd lose it.

The little white imp shuffled forward awkwardly, its bulbous yellow eyes wandering around the room aimlessly. It was completly blind, but its incredible sonar, sense of smell, and hearing gave him all hte information he needed and more. its wings weren't meant for flying; they were just membranes that ran from his ankles, up his sides, and to his wrists, like a flying squirrel. "You called, Master?" it asked, its voice expressionless, respectful.

The king ground his teeth. "Where is the tome?"

Brizzle blinked in genuine confusion. "I thought you already knew, Master; the book was stolen."

Elexter clutched the sides of his throne until his knuckles were white. "Why weren't you there when they were?" he snarled.

Brizzle shrugged, turning away. Elexter had ordered it to watch the mountains thorugh th mirror in its prison. When something had happened, the imp had gon through for a closer look. Master didn't like false reports. when it felt its portal destroyed, Brizzle had rushed back, knowing that Master would call it soon.

But that didn't matter to it now. Master had the pendant that contoled it. He had failed Master. The woodland creature knew its life was over, but accepted it with normal impish impassivness.

Elexter waited for an answer. When he received none, he stood up and strode purposfully towards the imp, pendant swinging ominously. Brizzle knew he was coming, and sensed the iron, but didn't react. There was nothing he could do, no escape. This natural disinterest of fate made imps ideal slaves.

But the king's steps faltered, and he studied the imp for a few moments. It would be a terrible shame that he would loose such a faithful servant, and he doubted any other creature he'd capture would ever be as obedient as Brizzle. Finally, he said, "Brizzle, how would you like a chance to live.

The imp cocked its head. Live? After failing? Another chance to please his master? "What is this chance?"

"Retreive the book," Elexter commanded. "I'll give you one month."

Brizzle nodded. "And what happens after one month?" it asked with simple curiousity.

Elexter grinned and held out the moonstone metal, whispering a few words. Brizzle's nostrils flared and it shifted uncomfortably. "I understand, Master."