It was midmorning when they finally all gathered together again in Duke Thomas’s council chambers. Misha could see upon their faces the lines of weariness that they all felt. Even Elizabeth appeared distraught. He did not know what hour it was when his sister had finally turned in for the night, her search in vain. But whatever sleep she might have purchased in those few hours time appeared to have done little for her constitution.
And it was that way with all the rest. Rickkter looked in particularly bad spirits, his fur a tangled mess, and his jerkin one hastily drawn on that morning as he’d struggled to lift his snout from whatever book he’d fallen asleep reading. Ink smears lined either side of his muzzle, and the fox was not sure yet where his friend had even noticed them.
Only Varnal was not present, as he was the only one who had not been invited. Even Sir Egland had joined them that morning, at Misha’s behest. The elk appeared withdrawn, his whole demeanour that of a man who has just watched his son taken to the executioner’s block. Occasionally he would reach one hoof like hand to rub at the antlers growing from his forehead, but otherwise he remained a statue.
In fact, as Misha scanned across the rest of them, the only person that seemed in the least bit pleased was the bat Andwyn. Of course, Misha found it hard to tell what the bat might be thinking. There always seemed to be a slight smile upon the corners of his muzzle. Still, Misha had greatly enjoyed his meal with Caroline’s father last night, and a few passages he’d read in his tomes suggested that Madog’s injury was not as bad as he had first supposed, so there were some reasons for even he to feel relieved.
But there could be no doubt, it was small solace compared to what they faced. Judging from the troubled countenance of the alligator steward and all of his friends, there could be no doubting that.
“It has been five days now since we stopped the attempt upon Duke Thomas’s very life. I thank you all for your tireless efforts on behalf of his grace, and I know that you will be able to solve this mystery. However, I want to know what sort of progress has been made, if any.”
At that point, the great retile opened wide his palms, gesturing to the mages to speak. Malisa, dressed in very conservative garb, took a deep breath and replied. “The spells surrounding the halter continue to stymie us, though thanks to the help of Mistress Elizabeth, we have been able to discern a few things. The spells take the form of tentacles that are wrapped fully around the halter itself, obscuring the underlying spells. They are attracted, as we discovered before, to those who are cursed. Somehow, enough of the nature of the curse was understood so that a spell might be cast with that as its trigger.”
She gestured to Christopher whose ursine bulk dominated one end of the round table. Even with the Lothanasi acolyte’s robe covering his shoulders, he appeared nothing more than a tamed beast. But behind those dark eyes was a keen intelligence. And that mind reached out to touch them all with its speech from time to time. But as the Prime Minister gestured to him, he lifted his large muzzle, nostrils flaring as he breathed and took in their scents. “Christopher here is living proof that some mages have at least a rudimentary understanding of the workings of the Curses, and are able to influence them. Some of you recall what had been done to Prince Phil and Macaban of Lorland about this time last year. In each case, the curse was amplified within them to terrifying ends.”
Misha nodded slowly, recalling those events. He had not been directly involved, but had heard the tale from Phil afterwards, before the rabbit himself had fallen under the poisonous influence of the portrait Bryonoth had drawn of her tormenter, and of the man they had faced five nights ago in the stables. He shuddered at each of those memories, tail tucking itself underneath his seat in an attempt to get between his legs.
“So I do not think we shouldn’t be too surprised that another form of this magic was employed here. However, in all four cases, there are similarities. For Christopher, a stone fetish was used to amplify his curse. For Macaban, it was a rune drawn by Loriod, a rune triggered when he was asked certain questions. With Phil it came in the form of runes inscribed upon a crate of carrots. And now for Thomas, in the form of a halter that also bears a rune.” At this, Malisa produced a folded piece of parchment from her sleeve, and spread it out on the table for all of them to see.
Misha studied the tangle of curls and lines that jutted from the mass on the paper and found his eyes beginning to hurt after only a few seconds examination. There was an aching familiarity about parts of them, but the way that they all tied together in the middle, in a blotch that seemed to cross over itself countless times, he could not recall where he’d ever seen anything like them.
Thalberg tapped his thumb claws together as he studied the picture, his yellow eyes filming slightly. “And what does this rune mean?”
“That’s what we don’t know,” Rickkter said morosely. The raccoon frowned as he stared down at it. “I’ve never seen a more complicated rune. I have been searching through all of my tomes, and I can find nothing that looks like this.”
“Nor I,” Malisa added. “It seems to be a complete mystery.”
“Have you ever seen the likes of this, Elizabeth?” Andwyn asked, though he himself did not even bother it with a glance.
But Misha’s sister shook her head. “No, this is unfamiliar to me. It seems too elaborate to be a simple spell. And the way the lines move in and out of the centre, it seems as if this were in fact several spells laid atop one another. But that too is not quite accurate.”
“How do you mean, Sis?” Misha asked her, his tail still pulled tight against his chair.
Elizabeth looked to the rest and frowned. “Magical energy is flowing into this sigil, but we cannot seem to find any magical energy actually flowing out from it!”
Thalberg’s reptilian moue deepened. “And what does that signify?”
It was Rickkter’s sharp voice that cut in. “Magical symbols should be expelling magical force. This is not. What goes in does not come back out. If this rune were to have any actual effect, then it would have to expend magical energy somehow. It does not.”
“But surely it must go somewhere,” Andwyn pondered.
“I would agree with you,” Rickkter replied, eyes scolding, “but this is the magic of our enemies, and his magic has proven to confound us in the past. He has mastered arts that were thought lost, and has harnessed energies from the Underworld itself. What is to say he could not create a spot from which no magical power could leave?”
{T’be sure, ‘tis most peculiar.} Christopher’s voice rang in their minds. {But I do not see anything in this that would touch those cursed. I cannae understand how it works, any more than I can understand where it comes from.}
“And that is the crux of our problem,” Malisa finished, folding her hands on the table before her. “It took a great deal of effort to reveal this rune. But now we have no idea what it could mean.”
Misha rubbed his paw pads together as he glanced once more at the parchment and the black curves that wound within each other upon it. He felt himself nearly lost in the dizzying swirls, and he could very well believe, as they all led inexorably to that inky blackness at the centre that nothing could escape from that point. No matter how many times his eyes went to another part of the figure, trying to discern the meaning of the crossed lines and convoluted turnings, still, he was drawn to that black spot like a moth to flame.
“What do we know of our enemy in this matter?” Andwyn asked at last, wings curling before him. “Is there any insight that can provide?”
All eyes turned towards the hawk who stood perched on a small stool not far from where the spy master himself perched. Her wings were folded behind her, golden eyes studying that document as well, and Misha could see from the way her pupils turned, that she too found it hard to break away from the dark spot.
“Well, we do know a little about the Underworld, that it is a drainer of magic,” Jessica started, her voice uncertain and creaking. She fluttered one wingtip in agitation. “The only other thing that we know is that they are exceptionally gifted at obscuring their tracks and leaving false trails.” Jessica went quiet again, but from the way her neck feathers ruffled, Misha could tell that something was bothering her.
Rickkter crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Now wouldn’t that be annoying. Could this rune simply be another false path? Is there something underneath this that we missed?”
Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. “I do not think so. I scoured that bottom of that halter completely. I tried to find anything else hiding there, but saw nothing. This is not a false path. The enemy created such elaborate defences for this device, spells that served only to prevent its true nature from being uncovered.”
“Then what is this? I think we have been played a fool again,” Rickkter said, gesturing indignantly at the parchment and the strange symbol upon it. “Is there anything in this that even looks like it is affecting the curse? I ask you, is there?”
{Nae that I can see.} Christopher said at last, leaning his large head down over the table. {Mayhaps friend Rickkter is right.}
“So much of what they do is meant to deceive and leave us in a quandary,” Malisa admitted morosely. “Could it be possible that he is showing us what we do not need?”
Andwyn chirped brightly and smiled as best his face could allow. “I think it may be here before us even now.”
“How?” Misha asked, still confused himself. He was beginning to find the image itself distasteful. Even when he closed his eyes, he could still see it.
“Thalberg, if you would humour me for a moment,” the bat asked deferentially.
“What do you need?” the alligator regarded the far too eager bat with some suspicion.
“Take that parchment and hold it up to the light,” Andwyn suggested. “You are the tallest of us here.”
“There is no need for that,” Rickkter said, and snapped his fingers together. The paper began to levitate slowly from the table, and lift up towards the light. He twisted his paw and the paper began to turn in the air.
“Oh no, good mage. I want the side with the rune facing the light.” Rickkter nodded and kept the symbol face up, drawing up towards the chandelier above. The other side oft he paper came into view, and the bat twitched his wings, eyes open wide. “I want to see what is behind it.”
All eyes became very intent on the back of that paper as the light shone above it. As it drew nearer to the candles, the sign became visible through the paper, a dark mass of curls and smears, each seeming to violently assault the other. Of course, Misha realized, it was backwards from what they had seen. And the strange sense of foreboding familiarity became even more stark. It was like a shiver of ice that crawled up his spine.
“By the gods!” Jessica swore, her voice making them all flinch slightly. Andwyn had to bend his head down to cover his ears from the pain. “It’s them!”
Elizabeth stared, mouth agape and only nodded at the hawk’s pronouncement. But the rest of them stared in as much confusion as before. “What are they?” Rickkter asked, the unruliness gone from his voice.
“It’s the chevrons! From the censer! Here they are, all piled on top of one another.”
“Those symbols?” Misha barked, his own muzzle hanging in surprise, tail outstretched.
“Yes, those very ones. I didn’t see it before because they were backwards.” Jessica broke off her gaze and looked at the bat. “How did you know they would be there?”
But even the Intelligence Chief of Metamor appeared just as surprised as the rest of them. “I didn’t. I simply thought that there might be something in the image reversed that we couldn’t see before. After all, you said the rune was drawn on the inside of the halter. But we know from Bryonoth’s own testimony, that she drew her runes upon the outside of the halter when she first cast the spell on Thomas. I thought perhaps they had burned through somehow.”
“No, this had to have been cast before it was placed on Thomas,” Malisa mused. “We didn’t see anything on the top of the halter.”
“Or maybe we haven’t found what’s on the top of the halter,” Rickkter suggested thoughtfully. “We spent so much time uncovering this, we could have missed something else, something more subtle.”
“No,” Elizabeth repeated, looking slightly disturbed. “I searched it thoroughly, and that is all that there was.”
Rickkter lowered the paper back to the table with a wave of one paw. “Regardless, we’ll need to look at it again. I still don’t know how that spell works. You say it has the same symbols as the censer did?”
Jessica nodded. “Yes. And the same symbols that my master Wessex was forced to draw upon the wall where the tear made by the censer was imprisoned. I saw them with my own eyes, and these are they.”
“But why draw them one on top of another?” Thalberg asked, gesturing to it with one paw.
“I don’t know,” Jessica admitted, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t know.”
“Well, regardless, it concerns me that these symbols were touching Duke Thomas upon his brow,” Thalberg pointed out. “They certainly have left their mark upon his grace.”
And then, it was the voice of Sir Egland, timorous and singularly distinct, that broke into their thoughts. “Is that what she meant?”
All heads turned to the elk who had until then remained as still and quiet as a garden statue. The elk looked to them all, eyes blinking widely. He opened his muzzle to speak, but no sound came out.
“Who are you talking about?” Thalberg asked at last, his voice solemn and firm.
Egland met that yellow gaze, and held it, breathing deeply. “Dame Bryonoth. I spoke to her last night in her cell. She barely knew who she was at first, but she was more certain by the end. She said some strange things though, things that I am still puzzling over.”
“What did she say? And what did she mean?” The alligator pressed.
Egland shook his head as if to clear it. “She said a lot of things. When I asked her about Duke Thomas, at first all she could remember was that he asked her to dance.” Thalberg’s moue deepened then, a look of mild annoyance flashing through his yellow eyes. But the elk continued, seemingly oblivious to the Steward’s altering expression. “She told me about their rendezvouses, at least some of it. How she would place the halter on his grace and lead him to the stables. And she did say that she’d tied his grace to the magic somehow. I didn’t understand it.”
“What were her exact words?” Rickkter interjected, leaning forward over the table.
Egland leaned back then, eyes still filled with some bestial fear. “It’s difficult,” he stammered, “I do not recall exactly.”
“Then as best you can remember,” Elizabeth suggested, smiling slightly.
The softer expression appeared to have some effect upon the knight, for his trembling flesh began to slow, and his grip upon the table with his hoof-like hands relaxed. Egland nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath and pursing his muzzle in thought. “I had asked her if the recent rendezvouses were like the first time she had placed the halter on the Duke, back when she’d still been a man. Bryonoth was having a hard time remembering that she had been a man, and I wanted her to remember it. She seemed to remember things about Duke Thomas just fine once she began speaking.”
Egland paused for a moment and took another breath, exhaling slowly, as if he were letting loose thoughts that he did not dare speak aloud. After a moment, in which all eyes remained focussed upon the elk, he spoke again, the twitching of his ears betraying his nervous uncertainty. “She said it was different then. I do not know exactly how she said it, but it was something like, ‘’Twas the time that I hath bound him with a knot, a knot that grows taut when pulled’. It went something like that at least.”
The knight fell silent once more, muzzle lowering to stare down at his hands. His ears flicked a bit, nearly rubbing against his antlers as they straightened. “That’s what she said to me.”
“She bound him with a knot?” Thalberg asked. He turned his snout from side to side. “Does this mean anything to you?”
“Well,” Elizabeth said, “the spell is bound to his grace. He is still a full horse now is he not?”
Thalberg shifted in his seat, the chair groaning in protest at his bulk. “Yes. But the spell reacts to the rest of you as well. Apart from you, Elizabeth. How then can it be bound to his grace if it effects everyone? What special way is it bound to him that it is not to the rest of us?”
Christopher let out a rumbling growl then, a deep throated sound that made the hairs on the back of Misha’s neck stand up. {‘Tis easy t’ see now, I cannae believe how I’d nae see ere now.}
Rickkter frowned, obviously still puzzling over it. “What do you see now that is so clear?”
{‘Tis but a guess, but the reason we nae know where the magic is going, the magic in this rune, is because we are seeing only half of the spell.} Christopher’s cyclopean bulk surveyed them each in turn to see if they comprehended what he thought. {The other half of the spell, as Andwyn has suggested, is on Duke Thomas himself. Or so ‘twould seem. That rune is the knot tied. It certainly has the countenance of one.}
The raccoon blinked once, and then let out a raucous laugh. “Of course! Of course! No wonder we haven’t been able to understand this spell yet. And that is where the last of what Bryonoth said makes sense. When you pull the ends of a string apart, the knot tied in them grows tighter still. It is impossible to undo that knot then. Only when the rope is loose can you undo the knot.”
Misha shook his head then. “I’m sorry, Rick, but you’ve lost me.”
The smile that had come to the raccoon’s muzzle would not leave though. “If Christopher is right about the other half of the spell being on Duke Thomas, then the only way we can break this spell, or even really understand it is by bringing them close together.”
Thalberg leaned forward suddenly, planting both palms flat upon the table, the wood there creaking too unhappily. “Do you suggest we put that halter back on his grace?”
“Oh yes,” Rickkter said, nodding firmly. “That is exactly what we should do.”
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