Faerling

Book 1, _Crystal_Mirrors_

Part XII

Gil cowered in the corner of her room, hiding in the darkness. She didn't want to light her lamp, didn't want anyone to know she was awake. Shouts and angry yells could be heard from the foyer below -- Gerard bellowing; Damien's calmer, but still angry, voice; Tansy's sweetness and light voice above the others. She heard her door creak open, saw a crack of light for an instant, then heard it shut again as light footsteps padded across the room to where she hid.

"Gil?" a tentative voice whispered.

"Right here, Amile," Gil called softly. She heard the youngest of the DiLian family move closer to her, until the young girl sat next to her, huddled against her. Gil could feel her shaking, terrified.

"I'm afraid, Gil," the girl whispered, her voice shaky. "They're arguing and I'm afraid."

"Your brothers wouldn't hurt Tansy," Gil reassured the girl. "Gerard wouldn't, and Damien definitely wouldn't."

Gil could feel the girl shake her head. "I'm not afraid of *them.* I'm afraid of *her.*"

Gil sighed, and drew the girl close, trying to lend some comfort. Amile was only 12 years old, 5 years younger than Gil, and she looked up to Gil for guidance. Gil knew Tansy didn't like the way Amile looked to her, but there wasn't much she could do to stop it.

A crash shook the stairs, and an angry stomping moved down the hallway. Gerard's shouts from the bottom of the stairs couldn't be understood, but Damien's response, as he stopped outside her door, were easily understandable.

"My dear brother, I am *going* to leave. You are welcome to accompany me, as are my sister and our guest. You are also welcome to remain. However, you cannot stop me from leaving." The door cracked open, and Gil could see the silhouette of a figure leaning in. "Gillian, are you in here?"

Gil stood and ran to him, flinging her arms around him. He held her quietly for a moment, then said, "If we are to leave, we must leave soon."

Gil glanced back into the shadows. "Amile?"

The girl stepped forward, shaking her head. "I will be fine," she said softly. "Go."

Gil ran to the dresser on one side of the room and grabbed her old pack, hastily throwing a few essential items into it. In minutes she was ready. She looked toward the door, suddenly realizing Damien had left. She peered out into the hallway, relieved to see him coming towards her from his end room, his pack over her shoulder, buckling his scabbard about his waist. He grasped her hand on his way by, leading her down the stairs.

"You should not leave," Gerard said solemnly as the two passed him in the foyer.

"You cannot stop me," Damien informed him, still pulling Gil behind him. She glanced back at Gerard, her eyes apologizing as best she could.

She followed Damien out and waited while he saddled a horse for them to ride. As she sat before him on the horse, she began to have a strange feeling at the back of her mind. -Something is not right here,- she thought, a confused expression on her face. She turned to look back at the House of DiLian, fading into the distance as they rode away. -This isn't the way it happened. I didn't leave with Damien. I sneaked out the back one night, by myself. I didn't even say good-bye.-

"Stop!" Gil said sharply, reaching out to tug on the reigns until the horse stopped abruptly. She slid off the horse, not looking at the hurt expression on Damien's face. She looked around, panic growing. As she watched the sky, it grew darker, and she wondered what was happening. She grabbed for Damien's hand as she saw a dark shape descending from the sky, blocking out the light of the moon, terrifying her. A scream was torn from her throat, and she screamed until she was hoarse, shrieking in terror. The dark shape landed between her and Damien, tearing her hand from his.

"You didn't think you could really leave," a feminine voice said coolly. The darkness cleared slightly and Gil saw Tansy's ice-blue eyes glaring down at her. "You are ungrateful, child. I find you, educate you, and this is how you repay me. You disrupt my life, disrupt my family, and then you think you can leave."

-Dear God, no!- Gil screamed inwardly. -This didn't happen! It didn't! I *know* it didn't!-

A strange feeling crackled in the air as Tansy gestured towards Damien, and when Gil could see again, he was no longer there.

"What did you *do* with him!" she yelled, throwing herself at Tansy. The other woman easily brushed her aside, and Gil fell heavily against a tree by the path.

Tansy shrugged. "Nothing much; simply sent him home. I'll deal with him later. For now, I'll deal with you."

Gil's eyes narrowed. She would have to fight fire with fire, magic with magic. Her eyes blackened, and she could easily see the protective spells Tansy held around her body. She could disrupt them easily, given the time and energy, but it would be far easier now to try to circumvent them. She searched her mind for the proper words.

Pain ripped through her as she felt a blast of magic wrap around her. She'd been caught off guard, unable to see Tansy's action because her normal sight was disabled while she looked for the magic. She looked at the magic still surrounding her, trying to remember through a hazy mind just *what* the angry red energy that pulsed around her was. Something to do with motion... it was some kind of motion spell... she tried to read the pattern, tracing the threads of light with her thoughts. Teleport! It was a teleport! Tansy was sending her somewhere, somewhere in a world she didn't know, a world she still didn't understand...

She felt the magic grasping at her, pulling at her, and tried to rip it off of her. It grabbed at her arms, her legs, her hands... she pulled until she could feel nothing more tugging on her. There was a wrenching sensation, a terrible feeling, and then she felt a hardwood floor beneath her, and a kindly voice saying something she couldn't understand. Her head ached so much, but she tried to speak. Her voice didn't seem to work, and her throat felt almost as bad as her head. She rolled over and opened her eyes. The world swam around her, bringing a sick feeling to her stomach and making her head worse, so much worse. Closing her eyes tightly against the pain, she blessedly lost consciousness.

When Gil awoke, she was surprised to feel soft grass beneath her prone body. Her whole body ached as if she had been through a battle, and her mind felt hazy, swimming with strange ideas and unusual memories. She tried to sort them out. She remembered the fight in Tansy's house... she remembered slipping out the back way in the dark of night to leave Tansy's house... she remembered a wrenching teleport and winding up in the manor of Jason Blackthorne... she remembered approaching Blackthorne Manor to ask for work when she was starving...

She sat up, looking around her. The air was sharp and cold, and she could see her breath forming little clouds as she breathed. She started to stand, then stopped as her mind began to clear. She remembered going into Tansy's study, grasping Donal and Genna's hands... then the feeling of the magic surrounding her as the teleport spell was cast... and then that strange dream. Ah! Yes, it *was* a dream. That explained why it was so strange.

Gil stood and looked around her, a curious expression on her face. There was only one problem with everything she remembered. If they had been holding hands when the spell was cast, then where were the others? She was on the top of a grassy hill, and could see mountains not far to the north, and a valley and village to the south, just on the edge of a large forest. But she saw no sign of her companions. She looked around once more, trying to see if they had perhaps been with her but had wandered off. No footprints could be found. Sighing, she dusted herself off and hoisted her pack. She started down into the valley, towards the village. It was almost dusk, and she had no desire to be caught in the open after dark, on her own. Not when her head hurt this much.

To be continued...

Faerling is copyrighted by Deb Atwood.

Copies may be kept for personal use but may not be redistributed without the expression permission of the author.

Tryslora Eloran (deb_atwood@fac.com)