Sir Fredric and Alvacor walked through the endless corridors of the royal palace.
“Why didn’t you reveal yourself?” Fredric asked as soon as he was certain no one would overhear. “I’ve kept my word not to tell the king who you are, but I fully expected you to do it.”
“That was my original intention,” the elf replied, nodding. “But I decided to hold off when I saw that His Majesty was not being completely truthful.”
Fredric would have found such an accusation of his king insulting, had it come from someone else. However, with Alvacor’s mind-probing ability, he knew it was not an accusation but a fact.
“What do you mean?”
“First of all, it wasn’t a private audience,” the elf said. “There was a man listening in, hidden in a secret room behind that painting on the southern wall. I neutralized him, just in case.”
Fredric stopped in his tracks. “Neutralized?”
Alvacor’s smile was barely noticeable as he clarified, “By inducing a deep sleep. No harm done, as promised.”
Still a little uneasy, Fredric resumed his pace. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“There’s a lot I can do I have not yet informed you of. Secondly, the king was not truthful about his intentions regarding the ‘dark elves.’ He said he just wants to keep us locked up; it might be so, for the moment, but there is much more to it.”
“What exactly?”
“That I do not know. I cannot read minds; I can only sense lies. I could tell that the king had withheld something important, something that actually seems to bother him quite a bit. Seeing that, I chose not to reveal too much.”
“Well… I understand.”
“I’m glad he didn’t strip you of your knighthood,” the elf said.
Fredric sighed. “He should have. You know it better than anyone.”
Alvacor shook his head. “No. I happen to fully agree with your king on this matter: you deserve it more than anyone. Are you going to stay here at the palace?”
“Yes, since that’s the king’s wish. I will go back to the inn with you to collect my things. My room is paid for until the end of the week; I can tell the owner to transfer the money to pay for yours, if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Sir Fredric, but there is no need. I have paid for mine. You should ask for a refund.”
Fredric bit his lip, embarrassed. He should have asked instead of assuming the elf had no money and making it sound like he needed someone to pay for him. Especially knowing that Alvacor was of noble blood.
They passed several guard posts and walked out of the inner quarters of the palace to the area known as general halls. These halls and corridors swarmed with courtiers, servants, and visitors. Fredric noticed some of them gape at his companion.
“I take it elves are not a common sight in Sormaria?” Alvacor asked. “Not even here, in the capital city?”
“Not so uncommon as to justify staring,” Fredric replied. “We have elves here, some of them are even citizens. I think it’s your height that impresses these folks.”
“Or the danger they sense coming from me.”
Fredric did not know what to say to that. He sensed no danger, but he knew it was there.
“Sir Fredric!” a woman’s voice called out.
The knight turned and spotted two spell-breakers in their unmistakable white robes move through the crowd, heading toward them.
“Keliana?” Fredric greeted her with a short bow. He knew the other one, an older man, as well. “Hello, Tomas. I didn’t know you were back from Arkalla.”
“I returned last week,” the man replied, eyeing Alvacor with live curiosity.
“I wanted to ask whether you were able to find anything out about that attack,” Keliana said. Unlike Tomas, she only gave the elf a brief glance. “The one with the enchanted dagger and amulet.”
Fredric cringed inside, hoping his face didn’t show it. He couldn’t reveal that it had been done by the king’s order. Misguided perhaps, but it was an attempt to save Fredric’s life.
“Yes, I was able to trace it,” he said, “with reasonable certainty. I am not at liberty to share much, but I can say that your assessment of the weapon was most accurate.”
“So it wasn’t a random robbery? I’d like to know at least that.”
“It was not.” Fredric noticed that Tomas kept scrutinizing the elf and remembered to make proper introductions. “This is Alvacor of the elven realm of Zyrrea. And these are Keliana and Tomas, servants of the Golden Dome. They are spell-breakers.”
“Spell-breakers?” Alvacor asked after a pause, his voice strangely hoarse.
Tomas arched a brow. “You seem to find it surprising? Surely there are spell-breakers in your land as well.”
“There are,” the elf said, nodding. “They dress differently, though.”
Something wasn’t right. Fredric could tell by Alvacor’s changing eye color, which, as far as he understood, was a reflection of his emotions. The whites of the eyes were turning black, pupils beginning to glimmer red. Whatever was affecting him, it had to cause considerable distress.
Keliana gasped. “Goodness! What’s happening to your eyes?”
Alvacor was quick to lower his gaze. “Nothing. I apologize if I’ve startled you. It’s… an old malady, something I have to live with.” He gave a quick bow. “Would you excuse me. Sir Fredric, I’ll wait for you outside.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
“I’ve never seen anything like that!” Tomas exclaimed. “What malady is he speaking of?”
“I’m not sure,” Fredric replied. “He has not shared the nature of it. Alvacor is rather unique; there’s a lot of mystery in his past.”
“I hope I haven’t offended—” Keliana’s voice broke off as she suddenly turned very pale.
“Keliana!” Fredric caught her by the elbow; Tomas grabbed the other one. “What’s wrong?”
She tried to say something, but her eyes rolled and she hung limp in their arms.
“I’ve got her.” Fredric lifted the young woman, holding her head up. “Tomas, go find a physician.”
Tomas turned to run for help, but it wasn’t necessary: they were already surrounded by palace servants. One reported that the physician was on the way, others offered to carry Keliana to a room where she would be examined. Fredric refused and carried her there himself.
As he walked, he checked the spell-breaker’s pulse. It was weak, he could barely find it. Her breathing was slow and shallow.
“Has this ever happened before?” Fredric asked.
Tomas, who walked right beside him, eyes fixed on Keliana’s lifeless face, shook his head. “Never! She hasn’t ever complained of so much as a headache. I would suspect an attack, but I see no magic.”
No magic. Fredric entered the room, lowered Keliana onto the bed and made a sharp turn to the door. “I’ll be right back.”
He rushed through the general halls and out of the palace. Alvacor was sitting on the marble steps, elbows on his knees, head lowered.
“What did you do to her?” Fredric demanded.
The elf looked up. His eyes were still dark-red, but he appeared surprised and confused.
“To whom?” he asked.
“Keliana, the spell-breaker! She collapsed right after you left. Don’t deny it; I saw there was something going on. You weren’t the same the moment the two of them approached.”
Alvacor rose from the steps. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it, I swear. Take me to her, I might be able to help.”
Fredric gave him a long, hard look. The elf’s dark-red eyes held it. His reaction seemed genuine. The knight nodded and motioned for him to follow.
When they walked into the room, Tomas was kneeling at Keliana’s bed, looking desperate. Servants bustled about; a stern-faced man with gray hair stood a couple of steps away, arms crossed.
“It is magic, after all!” Tomas said. “Of a kind I’ve never encountered before. I see the swirls all over her, but I have no idea what’s causing it!”
Alvacor stepped to the bed and placed his hands on Keliana’s right arm and shoulder.
“You mean you can’t break this spell?” Fredric asked.
Tomas shook his head. “I’m trying, but I can’t even see the weaving! Like I said, I’ve never dealt with such magic.”
Fredric turned to the gray-haired man. “Are you the physician?”
“I am,” he confirmed. “There’s nothing I can do here. I was summoned too late.”
“You were called right away! Five minutes haven’t passed since she fell unconscious.”
“In that case, I suspect quick-acting poison. It can be checked and confirmed after she’s… you understand.”
“She’s not going to die,” Alvacor snapped, without turning his head. “Get him out of here!”
The physician gave him a displeased look, shrugged and left the room.
Tomas’s frightened eyes were searching the elf’s face.
“It’s magic, all right,” Alvacor said to him. “I can’t see the swirls you speak of, but I sense it.”
“Can you dispel it?” the spell-breaker asked.
“No. I can only fight and reverse the physical changes it’s making. You’ll have to deal with the spell.”
“But I—”
“Don’t worry about the weaving, just push your power of the Light against the whole thing.”
Tomas nodded and brought together his fists, concentrating.
“Is there anything I can do?” Fredric asked, stepping closer. “Will my necklace help?”
“I’m not sure about the necklace, but your faith in the Light will,” Alvacor said. “Call on it.”
Fredric did his best. Minutes later, Keliana took in a deep breath and stirred, then opened her eyes.
“What… what’s happening?” she asked with some difficulty.
“Lay still,” Alvacor said. “You’ve been attacked, we don’t know how. We’re trying to help.”
She looked down her body. “The swirls! But… what sort of a spell is this? Tomas?”
The other spell-breaker shook his head. “I can’t figure it out. I’m just pushing it away, as you see, that’s what Alvacor advised. Try to do the same, if you have the strength.”
Keliana’s brows drew together as she focused on the task.
“It’s not working, is it?” she said in a few moments. “The thing is resisting.”
Tomas wiped away drops of sweat from his forehead. “Yes. We have halted it, and it seems a little weaker, but it’s not going anywhere. I suspect that as soon as Alvacor stops doing whatever he’s doing, the spell will resume its destructive work. It has to be broken, but how? It’s not even tied to anything, I don’t see the source!”
“Then we must find it,” Alvacor said. “Think of how she might have gotten it. Have you recently handled any potentially enchanted items?”
“Well, yes, that’s why we were summoned to the palace—to check some gifts His Majesty had received, but they were all clean. We’re spell-breakers, we would have spotted magic right away.”
“Not this kind. It hides for a time, then activates when the object may not even be around. I bet it’s showing the magic right now. Tomas, can you go back to wherever you were checking the gifts? Look among those Keliana had handled; you should be able to single it out.”
Tomas jumped to his feet and ran off without a word. Minutes passed; Alvacor held onto the spell-breaker’s shoulder and arm, Fredric continued his efforts to call on the Light.
“It’s gone,” Keliana said at last. “The swirls are gone. He broke it.”
She sat up; Alvacor removed his hands and took a step away. Tomas showed up in the doorway, holding a small golden figurine of a dragon, looking at the elf in awe.
“It was this thing.” He lifted the figurine on his palm. “You were absolutely right. As soon as I entered the room, I saw it—this dragon was swirling all over. The weaving was clear, too. Unusual, but not hard to break.”
Fredric walked up to Tomas, took the figurine and looked it over. It was very detailed, each scale reproduced with thorough precision. The dragon’s long snout seemed to be grinning in a mean, sinister way.
“Do you realize what this means?” the knight asked. “Someone wanted to kill the king. Who sent this to him?”
“Some northern lord, the name was unfamiliar to me. Most likely made up. I told the treasurer to start filling out reports; he’ll need us to help and to sign them. It will be investigated.”
Fredric showed the dragon to the elf. “What do you think of this, Alvacor?”
“A skillfully made imitation of old Tergalian art.”
“An imitation? I would have thought it authentic.”
“No. The manner is slightly different, and the gold is newly mined.”
Once again, Tomas was gazing at the elf in admiration. “Your knowledge and skills are priceless, Alvacor. You must come to the Dome and teach. I’ll speak to the head of our order. He would be honored to learn from you and have you train our spell-breakers.”
Alvacor’s face darkened. “Alas, I wouldn’t be of much use. My abilities cannot be taught.”
“Why? You’re not saying you were born with them, are you?”
“No, they are not inborn. Nor are they priceless: I have paid a very specific price for them. The kind of a price I wouldn’t want anyone else to pay.”
Tomas watched the elf in utter confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Something I’d rather not delve into.” Alvacor turned to Fredric. “I’ll go back to the inn. If you need me for anything, I’ll be there.”
“Please, wait.” Keliana rose from the bed and took a step toward him. “You’ve saved my life. I want to thank you. I see that you do not wish to be questioned, and I will respect that. I only ask this: Is there anything I can do for you?”
The elf shook his head. “Thank you, but no.”
She studied his face. “Are you sure? There is pain in your soul. Our order does not only deal with spells; perhaps we could help you heal.”
“I don’t think it’s possible.”
Keliana examined him some more, then gave a dismissive nod and took a silver amulet off her neck. “Then please accept this. If you ever need help, say a prayer to Arian while holding this amulet to your mouth. I will hear it, and I will join you in prayer.”
Alvacor took a bit more time to reply than Fredric thought necessary.
“Thank you, Keliana,” the elf said at last, taking the amulet. “You wouldn’t have given this to me if you knew how little I deserve it.”
After reading and signing reports, Fredric and Alvacor left the royal palace.
“Alvacor, I must apologize,” the knight said as they headed back to the inn. “I’m sorry I accused you of harming Keliana. The way you walked out, with your eyes changed… I thought she had upset you, and, well…”
“And I paid her back. A perfectly understandable conclusion on your part.”
The elf was not looking at him; Fredric couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic.
“Forgive me, Alvacor. I know so little about you. I should have trusted you more.”
Alvacor remained silent for a few moments. When he spoke, he kept his eyes fixed on the road.
“I killed two spell-breakers, two men wearing the same white robes. I didn’t know who they were. They had swords and daggers, so I thought they were some special sort of warriors. They were in the king’s squad sent against me. I took their lives among the rest. Now it turns out that I have killed two devoted servants of the Light.”
Fredric was not sure how to respond. This was something he had been wondering about, and he didn’t think the elf would ever touch on the subject. He knew that the second squad included two spell-breakers, and Alvacor had left no one alive.
“Would you have spared them if you knew?” he asked.
“Most likely. I actually might have stopped and spared the whole squad.”
***