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

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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.

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Chapter Five

        Once food had been set in front of him, Mulder quickly
realized that he was far more ravenous than he had thought. Waiting
politely for everyone to be served felt like sheer torture, and he had to
struggle to keep from literally shoving the savory stew into his mouth.
The rich, fluffy bread helped ease the first pangs of hunger, but he still
managed to tackle three full helpings of the beef and vegetable laden
main dish.
        //Hungry?\\ Scully sent to him on the wings of her
amusement. He made a face at her, without slowing down.
        //Yes.\\ He responded unrepentedly. //Magic use does
that....though,\\ he thought with a mental chuckle while eyeing her
appreciatively across the table. //Certain other exertions could also be
responsible.\\
        She merely grinned at him, before taking another full bite of
the still-warm bread. Actually, she thought ruefully, looking down at
the bare remains of her second bowl of stew, he had a point. Of
course, it could have been his hunger leaching to her, but still...given
the way she was eating, it was good a thing she got so much exercise
on a regular basis.
        Setting down her spoon firmly, she picked up her goblet of
wine and turned to listen to the conversation raging between Reinald,
the Professor and Corvay as to the physical nature of magic. The
Professor's technical terms, grounded in earth-style physics tended to
be somewhat incomprehensible to the two Realm elders, but Scully
was quickly able to seize the concepts and was soon absorbed in the
conversation. It suited her logical, precise mind to see this originally
unfathomable force broken down into terms she could understand and
accept. Perhaps Mulder had been right when he had told her, so long
ago, that maybe magic was simply another natural force, like
electricity and gravity, that could be studied, understood and
quantified in a rational manner.  In any case, she was glad to be in this
company, drawing strength and comfort from it.  She was especially
happy to see her old mentor.  Corvay looked pale and shrunken, yet
his eyes gleamed brightly with the force of his personality.
        Mulder followed along silently, still munching on another
chunk of bread, with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. His
hunger sated, he was suffused with a sense of well-being. He had his
Scully at his side, the firelight dancing on her bright auburn hair, his
friends, and his health. Add in a full stomach and the afterglow of a
serious bout of lovemaking, and nearly everything was right with his
world. Leaning back in his chair, his attention wandered, his eyes
drifting over towards his other four dinner companions.
        Jourdain was looking distinctly bored, though containing his
frustration with natural politeness and stolid calm. Every so often, his
blue eyes would wander from the rapidly gesticulating Professor or
Royal Mage to his wife's tiny, curvaceous form, and his entire
expression would lighten. Mulder smiled to himself at one such
glance, then let his own gaze move over to the two teenagers deep in
their own private conversation.
        Andalor grinned at one of Shannon's remarks, then leaned
forward to respond, his violet eyes brilliant with humor. Shannon
groaned loudly at his words, tossing her napkin at him, though not
without a peal of laughter. Mulder regarded them thoughtfully, his
own instinctive reaction to their obviously growing attachment one of
approval and understanding. However, he was also well aware of the
complications caused by Andalor's position as King of Fairwood
Demesne. Royalty, especially young kings, rarely got a chance to
marry for love.  Instead the choice often had to be made out of duty
and necessity - cementing an alliance or forestalling a rebellion. He
wanted nothing more than happiness for both Shannon and Andalor,
but he was afraid they might end up hurt.
        Unaware of Mulder's concerns, his ward and the young king
quickly tired of the increasingly fervent discussion of magical theory
that held the rest of the table in its thrall. Of course, when Andalor
got to his feet in preparation for leaving, everyone else did so as well.
        The boy smiled at his family and friends, waving at them to
retake their seats. When everyone had, he apologized, and excused
himself and Shannon, saying they were planning to take a walk and
then retire for the evening. Mulder could see Reinald about to utter a
protest about Andalor wandering off alone with Shannon, and broke
in quickly.
        "Shannon, could you come see me after your walk? I'd like
to talk to you."
        She frowned at him through a curtain of straight black hair,
but he stared firmly at her. "Sure, Taabsut Mulder," she responded,
shrugging her well-muscled shoulders, then turned to follow Andalor
from the room.
        Jourdain sighed. "I'm afraid, Mulder, that you may indeed
have to have a serious talk with her. If Andalor was anyone other than
who he is, I would bless that relationship. And even with things as
they are, I find it hard to disapprove. Shannon would make a strong
queen."
        "It cannot be," Reinald sighed, running a distracted hand
through his flowing white locks. "As dear as young Shannon is,
Andalor must be able to make a marriage for political gain. And such
unions are not necessarily devoid of affection or even love. Andalor's
parents came to care deeply for one another, and it was their marriage
that brought us much needed assistance from her nation during the
Dark War."
        "Surely, they'd have helped anyway," Scully remarked. "If
we hadn't stopped the Dark Forces here, the rest of this world would
surely have been overrun as well."
        "True, but such practical good sense does not always apply
to politics," Jourdain responded. Mulder chuckled and nodded.
Leaning back in his chair, his expression turned thoughtful.
        "I'll talk to Shannon about it tonight," he said grudgingly, his
stomach sinking at the idea. He had been thrown into the job of
parenting without any preparation or warning, and a teenage girl,
growing rapidly into womanhood, was not the easiest of challenges at
any time. Especially, when she had both an intelligence and a stubborn
streak that fairly matched his own.
        Scully sent him a wave of understanding and support. //I can
talk to her, too, if need be,\\ she offered.
        Mulder sent back a wave of gratitude, then turned to
Reinald. "Meanwhile, there are a few other things we need to talk
about."
        Reinald nodded gravely. "Perhaps we should retire to the
sitting room and have some tea."
        Conversation was minimal as they got up from the table and
moved into Reinald's comfortable private room, drawing chairs up in
front of the fireplace. Mulder and Scully settled down on a large
divan, while Jourdain offered the Professor and Corvay two large
chairs. After he had warmed and served the inevitable tea, Reinald
took the remaining chair, forming a half-circle in front of the fireplace,
while Aldara curled up on the floor near Scully's feet and Jourdain
seated himself between her and the roaring fire.
        Once everyone was settled and sipping at their tea, Reinald
began, "Mulder, perhaps you could tell us more of what happened in
Fawnleaf."
        Mulder grimaced, but nodded. Resting his tea cup against his
leg, he spoke softly. "I'm sure Jourdain told you about our arrival.
Things were tense, but Urielle was able to calm everyone down, at
least for a while." A sudden thought occurred and he glanced over at
Jourdain. "Where is she, by the way?"
        "She decided to remain in Fawnleaf, to preside over the
funerals of the two elders who were killed. And to help keep things
under control. She thinks that with time and some effort, she can heal
the wounds. Though right now, I think the only thing holding back a
resurgence of violence is the fear of you returning."
        Mulder winced. Scully unobtrusively closed her hand over
his arm, her mind-touch awash with love and understanding. Her
mind-voice, though, was tinged by a familiar frustration. //Stop
blaming yourself for everything. They only got what they deserved.
And if a little fear keeps them from killing each other, then so be it.\\
        The fierceness of her psychic tone won a brief, closed smile
from him, then he sighed and turned back to his tale. "We got both
villages together and Urielle was trying to introduce some common
sense, when suddenly all hell broke loose." The Realm's religions
didn't really have a concept of 'hell' in the way Earth Christianity did,
so Mulder didn't bother attempting to translate it, instead using the
English word which his friends had come to recognize, if not
understand, as meaning a great deal of trouble.
        "Two elders were trampled and killed by runaway horses,
and then the next thing I knew everyone was fighting everyone else.
Urielle did the best she could, but it was out of control." He ran a
hand through his hair, then leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling
for a moment, before looking straight at Reinald. He spread his hands
wide. "I guess I got mad. It was all so senseless, and I'd been feeling
sick and irritable all day. I can't explain exactly what I did; I didn't
plan anything, I just did it. I was just so ANGRY. I remember
throwing a lot of Mage-energy around, and then trying desperately to
communicate with Urielle that I needed her help. She finally managed
to convince them to cease hostilities, and then I managed somehow to
release the magic without blasting anyone. The next thing I remember
is waking up here."
        Reinald sighed dramatically. "Yes, it is about as I had
thought it had been." He smiled ruefully. "You gave off quite a blast,
Mulder. I fear that every Mage on this continent came down with at
least a terrible headache. Two of the ones closest to you simply
collapsed in their tracks."
        Mulder jerked forward in his seat. "Are they all right?" he
exclaimed.
        "Yes, yes, they are fine. They'll both need a few days rest
and healing, but they are basically unharmed."
        Mulder's visible stance relaxed noticeably, but Scully could
still feel the tension radiating from him. She continued to feed him as
much love and reassurance as she could, but she knew he was quickly
sinking into one of his depressions. As much as she loved, respected,
and adored her bondmate, his ability to shoulder the entire weight of
the world sometimes drove her crazy with frustration. Well, not this
time, she thought firmly.
        "Stop it, Mulder!" She deliberately spoke aloud, and five
pairs of surprised eyes flew to her determined face. The only person
who didn't turn to stare at her was the one she had addressed. He
seemed to have found something fascinating about his hands, and was
gazing at them as though they might contain the secrets of the
universe.
        //STOP IT!\\ She repeated herself in a loud mental yell, and
he nearly jumped out of his seat. His eyes were a deep, almost pure
black as they finally met her bright gaze. "What?" he responded, as
though he had completely forgotten she was even there.
        "Stop trying to blame yourself for everything and stop trying
to shut me out."
        "I'm not..." He protested both verbally and psychically, only
to receive her best glare in return. He winced, then closed his hand
over hers. //I'd never shut you out, Scully.\\
        //Liar,\\ she responded, though not without affection.
Opening her mind, she flooded him with her emotions: worry, anxiety,
love, affection, understanding, frustration, anger....all feeding off each
other. //I hate it when you do that. And don't you dare ask me what!\\
She raised a hand between them, underscoring the silent
communication with a physical gesture. //You damn well know what.
You start burying yourself in your own guilt and unnecessary sense of
responsibility, and you ignore me completely.\\
        //Scully....\\
        //Enough, Mulder!\\ Her anger suddenly abated as she felt
his pain wash over her. It wasn't that she didn't feel or understand the
reasons for his behavior or the very real nature of his anguish; she did.
But she also knew that the only way to knock him out of it was to
give him the mental equivalent of a quick kick in the ass. Tough love,
she thought, and could only be glad she was already past the tough
and ready to give him the love.
        Her mental sending softened, as did her expression. She
cupped his cheek in her palm and leaned towards him. //Mulder, I
understand. But you are not doing yourself any good by feeling guilty
over this. You did what you had to do, what was expected of you.
And if it got a little out of control because you lost your temper, that's
okay too. You didn't hurt anyone. So stop trashing yourself for being
human. We all get angry sometimes, and you had good reason for it.\\
        "But when most people get angry, they don't start
thunderstorms or explosions. I could have killed someone."
        "You didn't," Scully reminded him. "You wouldn't. Mulder,
you took great care to make sure no one got hurt."
        "Maybe, but what if I wanted to hurt someone? I could do
terrible damage."
        "That's very true." Reinald broke in. Both Mulder and Scully
looked startled, having forgotten that anyone else was in the room.
Reinald leaned forward in his chair and waited until the two were
ready to listen. "Mulder, it is good, very good, that you are finally
seeing the potential for disaster inherent in your Mage ability."
        Scully opened her mouth to interrupt, and Reinald shook his
head at her. "Wait a moment, my dear, let me finish." He looked
sympathetically at Mulder. "I've been waiting for this conversation,
though I wish it had come at a less complicated moment." He sighed,
smoothing back his white hair. "Unfortunately, I suppose, there are no
uncomplicated times anymore. Anyway, Mulder..." He paused,
searching for the right words.
        "What you are going through right now is something that
EVERY Mage goes through at some point in their training, well at
least any Blue Mage would. The very fact that you can question
yourself, and the potential for great damage that exists in your power,
is one of the most important factors in qualifying a Mage-trainee to
wear the Blue. In fact, it was one of the things holding Grejor back -
he saw only his own ambition rather than the consequences of his
magic use. And the result was tragic for us all.
        "Most Mages learn that lesson very young. I've seen cases
where it happened in childhood. The more power at someone's
disposal, the sooner they must come to that point - the sooner they
realize that losing their temper could become a question of life and
death. YOU, Mulder, by any right should have dealt with this many
many moons ago. But unfortunately, you came to your power as an
adult, and circumstances forced me to speed your training in a terribly
reckless manner. And this particular lesson is not one that can be
forced, or even the time of it chosen for you. You had to come to it
when you were ready."
        Reinald took a deep sip of his tea, then continued. "Alas, I
cannot give you a clear answer to your concerns. You must find your
own way of coping with the responsibility that your power gives you.
You must come to terms with it, and decide for yourself how, when,
and under what circumstances you will use the talent - and you must
find your own way to control it. For each Mage, those decisions are a
little different. So mine will not necessarily work for you."
        Silence reigned for a moment, then Mulder broke in, his eyes
intent on his teacher's face. "What if I don't WANT that
responsibility?"
        Reinald shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not an option. You
were born with the power, and it will always be a part of you. You
WILL use it, sooner or later, you cannot help that. The question you
must answer is HOW you will use it." He gave Mulder a genuine
smile. "My boy, I know you are frightened. It can be an awesome
responsibility, especially for one as tremendously gifted as you are.
But I have no doubts whatsoever of your ability to do the right thing.
I have faith in you, now you must find faith in yourself."
        "There's no way to shut off the power?" Scully asked.
        Reinald shook his head. "Not that I know of, at least not
without inflicting permanent harm to the Mage."
        Corvay nodded. "I have seen one or two cases where a
serious head injury robbed a Mage of his power, but those poor souls
were also afflicted with other damage as well. One never walked
again, and the other had serious problems with forming proper
language."
        Mulder groaned aloud. "Forget that," he said wryly.
        Aldara had been taking this all in with wide-eyed attention.
Stirring in her seat, she looked up at Mulder. "When I first saw you
really use your power, that day in the practice fields when Wide River
was attacked, I was terrified." She swallowed hard, finding the
admission hard to make. "I almost ran away and left you there. But
afterwards I realized that I had never been in any danger, that you
would rather have died than hurt me. Mulder, you know how much I
fear the power you wield, but since that day, I've never again feared
YOU. You taught me that the power is like a sharp sword. In the
wrong hands it can be deadly and terrible, in the right hands, it can do
great good. I may not like the power, but I trust you."
        There were general nods of agreement from everyone in the
room. Scully leaned up to kiss Mulder on the cheek. //You're not
alone in this, you know. I love you. I'll always be here to help.\\
        Mulder turned to kiss her back, then he lifted his chin to rest
it on the crown of her head. "I guess I don't have a lot of choice in the
matter."
        "No," Reinald chuckled softly. "But you'll do fine."
        Still snuggled into Mulder's embrace, Scully thanked Reinald
with her eyes, then quietly changed the subject.
        "There's something else I've been concerned about, and I
was hoping you or Corvay might be able to help."
        "What is bothering you, my dear?" Corvay asked, his dark
eyes bright in his aged face.
        "Mulder's not the only one having trouble with his temper.
While he was gone, I found myself getting angry at almost everyone
and everything. I felt irritable and tense, and frankly, a little feverish.
The longer he was away, the worse it got. We've had minor problems
being separated before, in our world, but in those cases we were
much further apart and for much longer. This started within a couple
of hours of Mulder's leaving."
        "Describe for me exactly what you felt." Corvay instructed.
        Scully frowned. "At first I just felt tense. Then I started
feeling...well, 'itchy' - like something was crawling up and down my
spine. I got really irritable, the slightest problem or inconvenience
would make me furious, and I had a hard time speaking kindly to
anyone. I couldn't sleep at all. I sat up all night, tossing and turning.
Also, I started feeling feverish towards the end. Then, I guess, I
finally collapsed." She looked to Aldara for confirmation and received
a tight nod in response.
        Corvay looked thoughtful for a moment, then gazed up at
Mulder. "And you, Mulder, did you feel the same?"
        Mulder nodded. "Yes. Exactly the same. I didn't sleep at all,
and I got angry at the slightest provocation. This has something to do
with our lifebond, doesn't it?"
        Corvay sighed, tapping his fingers together. "I believe so,
yes. But I cannot tell you more than that. You are the first and only
lifebonded Mage I have ever seen. It just never happens. Of course,
the life-bonds themselves are rather rare. But even so..." He frowned.
"I have heard stories....legends from when I was a child that spoke of
such possibilities, but I always assumed they were fictions. Most
young women, even today, harbor fantasies of being loved by a good
and powerful Mage - it's a romantic fairy tale." Then he grinned up at
Scully. "Or so it had been before now."
        "What did those legends say?" Mulder asked intently, his
boundless curiosity engaged.
        Corvay shrugged. "I can barely remember any of them. Most
were standard romantic stories, about a beautiful maiden who falls in
love with a good Mage, but is stolen away by an evil one, only to be
rescued by her lover."
        Scully chuckled. "I think such stories are a constant in any
culture. In ours it is more often a handsome prince who rescues the
woman."
        Aldara laughed. "Oh, we've got those too." The two women
shared a glance of feminine amusement.
        Mulder ignored the exchange, focusing his green-tinged gaze
on Reinald. "Do you have any ideas?"
        Sadly, Reinald had to shake his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I
have heard even less than Corvay. Until you two arrived, I would
have sworn it simply wasn't possible for a Mage to form a life-bond."
        The group was quiet for a few minutes.  Slowly, Reinald
added, "However, there is one who might help, who might have the
information you are seeking."
        "Who?"  Mulder questioned urgently.
        Reinald leaned forward, speaking with obvious caution.  "Be
aware that this is only a possibility. Much of what you want to know -
what you need to know - is lost in the mists of time and confounded
by legend.  Your lifebond is unknown except in our legends and
prophecies.  The man to whom I refer has likewise become a part of
our legends.  It is nearly impossible to separate myth from truth.  I
know how much you want to find out about this bond, and just don't
want to hold out false hope to you."  He looked around at his friends
gathered around him, who were rapt in his words.
        "Any chance is better than none, Mage," said Scully quietly.
"It wouldn't be the first time Mulder and I had been on an almost
hopeless quest.  Tell us more about this man."
        "His name is Hannu.  He is - or was - a Mage of great power
and knowledge.  Not only a practitioner but one who also studied the
powers of magicians, he collected spells from across the Realm.  It is
reputed that he spent much of his energies in seeking to rediscover the
Lost Powers."
        "Wait a minute,"  interjected Mulder, his face alive with
curiosity.  "What are these Lost Powers?"
        Reinald sighed and good-naturedly began to explain.  He had
known how the young Mage would react to the subject.  "They are
powers that are spoken of in our legends, that were the basis of the
legendary spells.  Unfortunately, no one knows for sure whether they
were ever anything BUT legends.  Certainly no Mage has possessed
these powers for thousands of season cycles.  Or it was thought so
until yesterday."
        Mulder slid a glance in Scully's direction.  "Yesterday?" he
asked weakly.   "What else did I do?"
        Reinald laughed out loud.  "My boy, you have set the Mage
world on its ears!  As if the shock waves from your power-use
weren't enough, you also managed to do something that no one else
has ever been able to do.  Don't you remember making the earth itself
split open? The power to make the very earth tremble and open is
something that is spoken of only in legend - one of the Lost Powers."
        "But I didn't mean to," explained Mulder sheepishly.  "I lost
my temper and it just happened."
        "I know."  The old Mage smiled kindly at his protege.  "But
it is all the more reason that I believe it is imperative for you to seek
out Hannu.  If he still exists."
        "I knew there was a catch, " Scully murmured.  Louder, she
said, "Where is he supposed to live?"
        "Hannu retreated from the world a long time ago.  The
reason is a mixture of conjecture, myth and truth.  Who knows how
much of each?  In any case, something occurred, some shattering
incident in his life, and he withdrew.  The rumor was that he travelled
far from here to become a simple village Mage."  Reinald paused.
"As I said, it all happened long ago.  Anything could have happened in
the meantime, especially in view of the devastation wrought by the
Dark Creatures."
        "Did you know him yourself?"  Mulder was becoming
fascinated with this mystery man who might be able to answer so
many questions.
        Reinald sighed.  "No.  No, Hannu was alive hundreds of
season-cycles before I was even born."
        Puzzled, Scully began, "Then how could he-"
        "Still be alive?"  Reinald finished for her.  "That is even more
difficult to believe and shrouded in mystery.  At one time he was said
to have played a major role in the politics of the Realm.  He was a
'young lion', I believe the expression is.  Charismatic, powerful,
ambitious, but with a purity of aura that almost rivals your own,
Mulder.  In fact, he was the Royal Mage of his day.  Something
happened - our legends tell it as a cataclysmic duel between good and
evil - and he suddenly disappeared from our land.  The whole story
became the basis of one of our most-loved legends, the subject of
poetry and art and minstrels' songs.  Then, relatively recently, it was
rumored that he was back.  The exact manner of his coming and
going has never been explained.  But the rumors have been persistent
that he came back, to dwell in a remote village.  What a waste he
retreated from our world,"  Reinald almost whispered to himself.  He
sat for several minutes, lost in thought.
        "Do you have any idea where he may be?" Scully probed
gently.
        "Hm?  Oh, well, an idea, but not much more than that.
Somewhere beyond the Greenswan Forest, in the area of the Gilfralia
Mountains, a remote area far to the south and east of here.  That's
only the popular rumor of where he may be, of course, which may or
may not be true.  A very arduous and possibly dangerous journey to
take on such a slim lead.  I hate sending you on a wild goose chase at
the risk of your lives.  But if anyone in our world has the answers you
seek, it will be Hannu."
                                        - - - - -

        Mulder settled gratefully in the big chair by the fire.
Stretching out his long legs towards the source of warmth, he toasted
his toes then drew them back. Scully handed him a cup of tea, then
gasped as he put his free hand around her waist and pulled her down
into his lap.
        //HEY!\\ She scolded lightly, trying to keep her cup of tea
from spilling onto them both.
        He chuckled, burying his nose into the sweet-smelling wave
of her hair. He drew her scent deeply into his lungs, then released his
breath, hot against the skin of her neck.
        Having regained control of the hot teacup, Scully wriggled in
his lap, then snuggled into his chest. She could feel the effect her
movements had on him, physically and emotionally, a sly smile
curving her lips.
        His grip on her tightened, his mind rich with amusement and
appreciation, but she could feel the somberness underlying his
affection. Lifting her head to meet his luminous gaze, she asked the
question on both her minds.
        "Do you think we're making the right decision?"
        Mulder pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "I know the timing
isn't too good. The trip could take up most of our remaining time in
the Realm." //We'd better remember to check with the Professor again
on that,\\ he added.
        Her affirmative reply didn't even form a single word, instead
it was a tingle of psychic understanding, one that would not even have
needed the fully-formed lifebond for them to share. Or perhaps, their
ability to communicate nonverbally that had developed over the years
of their partnership was indistinguishable from the lifebond itself, part
and parcel of the same soul-link that bound them as two halves of a
whole.
        He acknowledged her agreement without words, turning his
attention back to the bigger question. "I know we're taking a big
chance, going in search of someone who may not still be alive, and
might not be able to help us, even if he were willing to try. But we
need the answers, and it looks like no one else besides this Hannu can
help. Besides, it will give us a chance to see more of the Realm before
we leave." His entire face lit up like a child offered a much-desired
toy. "I've always wanted to get out and around more, now that we
don't have a war to worry about."
        Scully couldn't help laughing at the hopeful, delighted
expression in his bright hazel eyes. She stroked his cheek tenderly,
then rewarded him with the sunshine of her smile. "Me too. Though I
am a bit concerned about our growing inability to be physically
separated."
        "Well, at least we'll be together on the trip, that should help
until we can find Hannu and figure out a solution. But what about
Shannon? Do you think we ought to bring her with us? I know her
friendship with Andalor is attracting notice; Reinald is certainly
concerned. But it might be safer for her to stay here while we're gone.
If something were to happen to her on the road..."
        His voice trailed off, but Scully had no trouble filling in the
blanks. He'd blame himself. "Yes, of course, we should bring her with
us," she replied firmly. "Mulder, Shannon is a big girl. In the Realm,
young women her age are getting married and having babies,
practicing their crafts, managing homes. Besides, just imagine how
much trouble she might get into without you around to look after
her!"
        That drew a chuckle from Mulder, even as his eyes widened
with mock horror. He smiled, leaning down to touch his forehead to
hers. //I guess you're right. We are the closest thing to family she has
now.\\
        //She'd never forgive us if we left her behind,\\ Scully
reminded him. //Besides, the trip will be good for her. She needs to
stretch her wings, and we'll both be there to catch her if she falls.\\
        //I suppose,\\ Mulder replied, still hesitant, his fear for
Shannon's safety warring with his desire to keep her close by.
        Scully stroked the side of his face tenderly. "I know it's hard
to stand by and let her make her own mistakes, but that's all part of
growing up. She'll do fine. She's a good fighter and a lot tougher than
she looks."
        Mulder grinned. "Oh, I have no doubts about that!" They
both laughed lightly, then Mulder nodded solemnly.
        "You're right, Scully. And besides, for all we know this trip
could be a real vacation. Though...with all the problems the Realm is
having now..." Mulder frowned darkly. "It worries me, Scully. I can't
put my finger on it, but I think there's more to this than meets the eye.
I still think it's being orchestrated somehow. I just can't figure out
why, how, or by whom."
        Scully struggled with the familiar temptation to tease him
about his predilection for leaping to conclusions, but she, too, had a
strange sense of unease about the recent outbursts on interspecies
conflict occurring in the past couple months. And she knew from long
experience, that however outrageous Mulder's intuitive leaps might
be, they had a forbidding tendency to be proven true.
        "Do you think it could be the same Black Mage that
vaporized or kidnapped or did Goddess know what to Drellor?" she
asked.
        Mulder shook his head. "I don't know. It's certainly possible.
I hope Tarnor gets back before we leave, I'd like to check with him on
it. He's got the most experience dealing with the dark practitioners."
        Scully felt a tug of fear, and shivered involuntarily. He
immediately hugged her into the heat of his body, his mind a burning
presence on the edges of hers. //Are you all right?\\
        "Yes, I'm fine. Just a slight chill," she replied.
        Setting down his cup of tea and then hers, he turned her
around until she was facing him, his breath warm against her cheek.
"Hmmm, can't have you catching a cold, now can we?"
        She wrapped her arms up around his neck and whispered
into his mouth. "Think you can warm me up?"
        "AHEM!" A loud cough disturbed them both.
        They separated reluctantly, turning to find Shannon staring
at them from the doorway, her amber eyes glowing with amusement.
        "You wanted to talk to me, Mulder?" The tall slender girl
spoke negligently, leaning against the open door. Dressed in warrior
green, her waist-length black hair was coiled into a thick knot at the
nape of her neck. A few loose tendrils framed a thin, oval face, the
high cheekbones and strong jaw underlining an apparent physical
relationship to Mulder. In reality, they were not blood kin, but for the
purposes of establishing Shannon's position in the highly stratified
Realm society, Mulder had taken the girl under his wing. The
technical Realm terms for the relationship were 'taabsut' and 'halla',
which loosely translated in English terms as 'uncle' and 'niece' -
however, the practical applications in the Realm were much more
exacting.
        Mulder was totally responsible for her until she was legally
married, and it was a duty he took even more seriously than he would
admit, even to himself. Perhaps only Scully, who knew him better
than he knew himself, had any inkling of just how dear the young girl
had become to him.
        Scully smiled in welcome at Shannon, offering her a chair by
the fire and a cup of tea. Shannon accepted both gratefully, sinking
her lanky frame into the cushions with a soft sigh. She had begun to
shoot upward in height, which combined with an adolescent self-
consciousness, making her sometimes appear gawkish and awkward.
But the warrior training was already ameliorating that, creating
glimpses of the beautiful and graceful woman she would soon
become.
        For now, though, she was a sixteen year-old girl, well aware
she was facing a lecture from the one remaining parent figure in her
life. And as beloved as he was, she was not looking forward to it. As
Scully moved to leave them, Shannon reached out to restrain her.
        "You don't have to go, Dana," Shannon said. "I don't want
to push you out of your room so late at night."
        Scully saw straight through the maneuver, though she merely
smiled at the girl. "That's all right. I know you and Mulder have a lot
to talk about, and I promised Kyla I'd check in with her tonight."
Scully walked over to muss affectionately with Mulder's dark hair.
"I'll be back in a little while."
        He grimaced at her, but nodded and then smiled softly.
//Come back soon.\\ His mind added a few vivid images of his plans
for her when she returned, and she was unable to hide the blush that
reddened her cheeks. Turning quickly, she left the room, though not
without returning a thought or two of her own.
        Once Scully had left, Shannon decided to go on the attack
first, figuring that the best defense was a strong offense. "Look,
Mulder, I'm sorry about what I did to Yurka. Well," she bit at her lip,
then angled her head at him. "Well, actually I'm not really sorry about
her. But I am sorry to create so much trouble. I didn't plan on doing
it. She attacked, and then something just exploded inside me."
        She frowned more ominously, then stared at him with wide
honey-tinted eyes. "I don't know what happened!" Her bottom lip
trembled, as panic began to rise. Seeing Mulder use his well-
controlled talent was one thing, but having a force she still didn't
understand flow out of herself was simply frightening.
        Mulder leaned forward to reassure her gently. "It's all right,
Shannon. Actually, it's my fault. Lita told us that you had some
nascent Mage talent and I'd been meaning to test you on it. But things
kept getting in the way..." He mirrored her frown. "Even so, it's
surprising that you were able to release so much power. No one
thought you had that much power available." He focused his eyes on
her, his pupils dilating as he concentrated on seeing past the surface
and deeper, to open his mind to her aura.
        Shannon watched him studying her with barely concealed
concern, and a small sparkle of excitement. Could she really get to be
like Mulder....she both desired and dreaded the possibility.
Meanwhile, Mulder blinked rapidly, then abruptly jerked in his seat.
Leaning back he met her eyes with some surprise.
        "What is it?" she demanded.
        "Your aura has shifted," he replied. "I don't know how or
why such a thing could happen. But I'm not an expert on auras." He
thought for a moment, his brilliant mind turning over, analyzing and
discarding a dozen possibilities faster than most people could consider
one or two. Finally, he spoke cautiously, rubbing at his chin.
        "My power seemed to be there immediately upon entering
the Realm. But I'm an adult, and I seem to have more than my share
of the stuff. Yours is still relatively faint in comparison, though
certainly stronger now than a few days ago. And you're also a
teenager....hmm...I'll have to check with Scully and Lita on this, but
maybe it has something to do with that. You have undergone quite a
growth spurt lately, maybe this is part of the same thing."
        "You mean I'll get more power as I get older?" Shannon
asked intently.
        Mulder shrugged. "Don't know. I've always assumed the
talent was an all-or-nothing kind of thing. But maybe going through
the vortex and the natural physiological changes you go through at
this age have altered things. Regardless, it looks like I can't keep
putting off giving you some Mage training."
        Shannon groaned. "More lessons? I thought I'd be getting
away from school when I came here, and instead it's even worse! I'm
getting taught something or another for like 12 hours a day!"
        Mulder grinned at her. "Don't fuss. You've got it easy
compared to what they put Scully and me through the first time we
came here. Besides, we'll take this slowly. It shouldn't add too much
to your daily schedule. And you might even like it."
        Shannon smiled back at him. "Maybe. Actually, it would be
kind of neat to be able to turn people into toads."
        Mulder laughed. "Don't hold your breath. I'm not sure I can
do that."
        Shannon shrugged, unrepentant.
        "Good, I'll talk to Reinald about this tomorrow. In the
meantime, there are a couple of other things we need to talk about."
Mulder said.
        Shannon forestalled him again. "Please don't tell me you're
going to get on my case about Andy."
        Mulder stared at her in surprise. She smiled wryly at him.
"I'm not stupid, you know. Andy and I are both aware that Reinald
and some others around here are getting worried about our friendship.
But it's not necessary. Andy and I both know that 'cause he's stuck
being king that he can't be romantic with anyone unless its been set up
for him. He's not too happy about it, but he knows he's going to have
to marry some princess or other for the sake of an alliance or trade
routes or something stupid like that."
        "Shannon..."
        She waved her hand at him. "It's okay, REALLY! Besides,
Andy and I don't feel that way about each other. We're just good
friends. He doesn't really have too many people his own age he can
talk to. And most of the ones here treat him funny because he's the
king. They either get all polite, afraid of getting into trouble, or they
fawn all over him. Now THAT's disgusting, even Andy realizes that.
He's actually pretty smart; well, most of the time anyway. But still, we
can talk to each other just as us. After all we've been through
together, I find it hard to see him as a king, and I think he likes that."
        Mulder felt a sharp sense of relief racing through his veins.
He had underestimated both of these young people, but he was
grateful to find that he had. "I'm glad for you both," he said
approvingly. "I think it's wonderful that Andy has someone his own
age to talk to who can really listen to him. And, personally," he
confided warmly, "I would have no problem if you became more than
friends someday. But Andalor is king, and that means he has a lot of
responsibility to these people. Unfortunately, that means that his
personal choices are more limited than yours or mine. I'm not sure
that's a good thing, but for now, that's the way it is."
        Shannon nodded calmly. "Yeah. I know. It does stink,
though. Andy is terrified they're going to make him marry one of the
Dordinal girls." She shivered with unconcealed revulsion.
        Mulder visualized the two arrogant and rather unpleasant
teenage girls in questions and found himself mirroring his halla's
reaction. He certainly wouldn't want to get stuck with either of them
himself. His mind couldn't help seeing the lovely face of his Scully, her
eyes bright with intelligence and humor, and he again thanked any and
all Gods that might be, for blessing him with her.
        "Hopefully," he said cautiously, "they'll find him someone
better. I can't imagine Reinald doing that to Andalor unless it was an
absolute emergency."
        "Yeah, I hope so too," Shannon replied with a bright smile.
        Mulder smiled in return, then brought up the final subject he
needed to discuss with her. "Shannon, there's one more thing I need
to talk to you about."
        Unable to figure out what else she could be in trouble for,
Shannon drew upright in her chair. Surely she'd know if she had done
something else wrong?
        Mulder reached out to reassure her. "No, you haven't done
anything else wrong," he told her, grinning at her surprised reaction.
"And no, I didn't read your mind. I can't, at least not yet. But it wasn't
hard to figure out. Anyway, relax. I think you might like this idea."
        "What idea?" she asked, relaxing back into her thickly
cushioned chair.
        "How would you feel about taking a trip with Scully and
me?"
        Shannon bolted forward in her seat, fixing him with an
excited stare. "A trip? Where are we going? When do we leave?"
        "Whoa," Mulder chuckled. "Take it easy. We haven't worked
out all the details yet. Basically, Scully and I need to find an old Mage
by the name of Hannu. We have some questions about our lifebond
that Reinald can't answer, but thinks Hannu can. To the best of
anyone's knowledge he lives far to the south in a forest. It will be a
long trip, maybe weeks on the road. And don't forget that there aren't
highways and cars around here, much less airplanes. We'll probably be
on horseback for days on end, and may have to camp along the way.
So it may not be as much fun as you think. Scully and I are definitely
going, however, and we'd like for you to go with us."
        "Oh YES!!! COOL!!!!" Shannon leapt out of her chair and
threw her arms around Mulder's shoulders. She squeezed him in a
tight hug, and he returned it with affection. Then he disentangled
himself from her.
        "There will be some rules for you to follow. I mean this,
Shannon. You will do as either Scully or myself instructs without
argument, and you will NEVER wander off alone without getting
permission first. Do you understand?"
        "Yes, Taabsut Mulder," she replied. He gazed sternly at her,
and she nodded at him. "Yes, I understand. I'll be good, I promise."
        "All right," he sighed, figuring it was the best he was going
to get. "Go get some sleep now. We'll have a lot of planning to do
tomorrow."
        She jumped up, still grinning ear-to-ear, and hugged him
quickly again. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she ran for the door. When
she left, he was still smiling despite himself, and that simple
amusement stayed with him as he quietly prepared for bed and settled
down to wait for Scully to return.

End of Chapter Five

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 Six

        She was beautiful. Hauntingly erotic, every line and curve of
her hourglass figure melded and flowed in perfect symmetry. She
moved with the lithe grace of a wildcat, muscles tensing beneath
perfect ivory skin. Eyes like limpid black pools of oil were framed by
tight arches of ebony eyebrows and underlined by high, dramatic
cheekbones. The mouth was a thick slash of red, lips pouting and full,
covering rows of pearly white teeth.
        She was lovely. And Drellor thought she was most terrifying
thing he'd ever seen in all his life.
        Her hands, delicate and long-fingered, possessed inordinate
strength. Grasping him by the collar of his tunic, she lifted him
effortlessly, holding him suspended in mid-air, his feet flailing for the
missing floor. Turning swiftly, she carried him through the doorway
and down the seemingly endless dark corridor. A sharp turn took
them up a winding staircase of hewn marble, steps formed of huge
blocks of stone, their edges glittering in the dim light.
        Then they were through a second doorway and into a room
familiar from his nightmares. The center dominated by a sphere
glowing blacker than black, the walls were lined with books and
velvet drapes. What little light there was sputtered from flickering
candles, the tiny flames appearing almost ashamed of their presence in
this place.
        With a quick flick of her wrist, Drellor was unceremoniously
dumped into the center of an elaborately woven rug, the edges
rimmed by curling runes and odd-shaped symbols. He scrambled to
his feet, looking around him nervously. She ignored him, striding over
to the hematite sphere and fondling the surface with sure strokes of
her elegant hands.
        "Whhhat is happening?" Drellor blurted out, attempting to
recover some of his dignity. He was answered only with a low, soft
chuckle, the sound simultaneously sending a shiver of fear and a jolt
of desire through his body.
        He responded by trying to take a step off the rug.  Without
even turning around to look at him, she cast her arm in his direction.
Black flames danced from her right forefinger, striking hard at the
embroidered runes, then blazing up to keep him confined. Terror
grabbing him hard, he ran one way, then another, but the circle was
complete and he was caught like a rat in a trap.
        Finally, he settled down in the center, drawing his knees up
to his chest. And he waited.

                                        - - - - -

        The Evil One, the Queen of the Dark Realm, Lady of the
Swamp - she was the last survivor of the ancient House that had once
ruled this land. Mage-kings and queens, ruling by right of power and
strength, they had seemed invincible. Long, long ago, she had born a
princess, eldest daughter of the king, garbed in wealth and gifted with
power. Trained from the taking of her first breath to be the next
queen, she was the first of her family to fail to sit upon that throne.
And she felt that failure to the very core of her being.
        Below her concentration on the intricate spell, a piece of her
mind could not stop the review of the distant past. Memory was the
one thing she could not control, could not banish from her thoughts.
Memory of rebellion and battles so long over that even the bones of
the dead had turned to dust within the shallow earth. But she could
not forget, would not forget.
        She had seen her family die, leaving her bitterly alone.  All
because the Blue Mages had tried to stamp out the Black Arts at
which her family and kind were so terrifyingly proficient.  Her father
had been consumed by the hunger for vengeance on the death of his
wife.  She had sickened and eventually died from a mysterious
ailment, which he blamed on the Blue Mages.  Laboring with a
tirelessness that only madness brings, he had been killed horribly,
blown apart by the force of the spell he was attempting to concoct to
wreak his vengeance. Then her home - this lovely black castle - was
imbued with a white spell, making dwelling within its walls impossible
for the young princess and her younger sister.  Driven into the
swamp, they had lived by their wits and talents, alone, pursued.
Never as strong or gifted as her older sister, Lashmilla dwelled
entirely in the past, reaching out for the comfort of her dead parents.
She had simply faded away before her older sister's eyes.  Death by
exile and sorrow, the worst kind of death, thought the Dark Queen.
Without honor, without vengeance, without the race and flow of
blood. She alone had escaped with her life, barely managing to eke
out an existence in the dank confines of the swamp. Her power, that
of an adolescent, was barely enough to shield her, to call her dinner to
her, not enough to strike out. Not then. But she had learned by
necessity, and soon found more uses for the blood of the animals than
simply to feed her thirst.
        Blood, she discovered, fed the power. It both aided her
concentration and augmented the magical force. From the denizens of
the swamp, she soon graduated to those few humans and elves
unwary enough to venture into her mist-covered domain. But once
the blood-lust was satisfied, she began slowly to take more from her
victims. To put off the moment of death until she had drained their
minds of knowledge and information. And then once she felt she
knew enough, she drew her power around her like a cloak and took
her first steps out of the swamp.
        The world was fascinating to her, and though the time had
seemed to flow slowly to her within her hiding place, the Kingdoms of
the Realm had moved through nearly a century. The memory of her
family had degenerated to horror stories told around campfires in the
falling dusk. That lack of knowledge gave her safety, and she soon
found herself a place with the magicians of the day, professing herself
to be a child of the outlands, an orphan lost in the world. She
managed to shield in her aura the telltale signs of the Black Arts but
the power there was unmistakable.  Her power was an enticement of
its own, and delighted by such a promising student, they had not
questioned her story.
        And so, she had waited and learned, absorbing information
from them like a cloth takes up water, until she felt she had sucked
them dry and was ready to make her move. The young heir to the
head of the Maalfees House of the day was the perfect target, and she
led him easily into her trap. It was easy, almost too easy - but she
exulted in her success, drawing nearer and nearer to the throne that
she felt was her true destiny. Nothing could have stood in her way, if
it hadn't been for....
        Enough! she told herself, her hands shaking for the briefest
of moments before her control slammed shut. She wouldn't think of
him - of that Blue Mage, who even now was rumored to be huddled
in his forest domain. If she had suffered from his interference in her
plans, then so too had he. Their magics had clashed in an explosion so
violent it had almost shattered time itself, casting them both beyond
their world.  Several centuries had been lost before she could find her
way back through the vortex to this world, and nearly another before
he, too, had returned.

        She chuckled lightly, for she had indeed learned much from
her foray along the lines of eternity, and it had been obvious that HE
had been shaken as well. No longer the proud Royal Mage, he had
scuttled into his forest like a frightened rabbit. Still, she frowned
bitterly, his power and his presence was enough to keep her confined
to this sunken castle within the swamp.  She could keep her youth
through blood spell easily, but she had no intention of being cast adrift
on the winds of time yet again. The time was coming, soon enough,
when her power would rise and his would fade and fall.
        No, she was not afraid of him anymore, it was another young
Mage who was her primary concern. And now it was time to learn
more of her potential adversary. Stepping back from the boiling globe,
she waved an arm through the air to banish the encaging spell around
her cringing tool. Lifting him up easily, she began the rhythmic spell
chant, his fear feeding the power.

                                        - - - - -

        Scully leaned down to drop a quick kiss on Corvay's
forehead. The little old elf stirred in his sleep, but did not waken. She
stood gazing at the healer, the man to whom she owed so much.  First
he had taught her how to accept the gifts she had been given, no easy
task for one so rooted in the explainable as she was.  He then taught
her to hone those gifts, helping her to save her bondmate's life, and
possibly her own.  And he had offered her reassurance and comfort
when she had none to offer herself.  As she watched the shallow rise
and fall of the frail chest, she knew that she might never see him
again.  The fact that he was incredibly old and probably ready for the
Next World was of no solace whatsoever.  Scully added her prayer to
the Goddess, to hold her mentor as dear as she did herself.  Then,
eyes blinded by tears, she gathered up the ointments she had come to
fetch for the journey ahead and slipped quietly from the room.
        Kyla looked up from her bench as the smaller red-haired
healer reentered the workshop. Her eyes asked the question for her,
and Scully responded with a simple shake of her of head. The other
healer sighed, and nodded.
        "He is getting old, I'm afraid." Kyla absently stirred the
herbal concoction in front of her with the wooden spoon. "Healer's
gift aside, that is one thing that catches up with you sooner or later."
        "I know," Scully replied sadly. "I just hope..." Her voice
trailed off, unable to find the proper words.  Kyla met her eyes with
grave sympathy.
        "He'll leave this world peacefully and without pain, I'll make
sure of that."
        Scully smiled, though her eyes were moist.
        "Thank you," she replied simply. Hefting the sack of
supplies, she took a reluctant step toward the door. "I guess I'd better
get going. There's a lot to do before we leave."
        "Oh!  Wait," Kyla jumped up from her seat, towering over
the smaller woman. She walked past Scully and reached for a small jar
up high on a shelf. "Take this with you. It is an ointment that is
supposed to fight fevers, especially those caused by wounds gone bad.
I don't honestly know what is in it - Corvay gets a small amount
occasionally from one of his mysterious suppliers. All I know is that it
has helped when nothing else has."
        Scully took the jar from her and opened it to find a small
amount of a greenish paste. She sniffed at it, but couldn't distinguish
anything specific. "Are you sure you want me to take it - if it's all you
have?"
        Kyla smiled down at her. "Chances are you'll need it far more
than we will. Things can happen on the road. Best to be prepared."
She hesitated a moment, then said formally, "Warrior-Healer Scully,
you are distressed.  May I enter your mind as a healer?"
        Scully nodded her assent, felt the cool light pressure of
Kyla's fingers on her face, and immediately sensed a flood of solace
and peace.  Moments later, Kyla removed her hands and stepped
back.
        "Thank you." Scully's return smile lit up her entire face,
taking away the lines of worry that had creased the edges of her eyes
and mouth upon finding her old teacher so weak.
        "Good luck," Kyla told her, retaking her seat at the bench.
Scully waved at her, added the jar to her bag of supplies and quietly
let herself out.

                                        - - - - -

        Perched on the edge of Reinald's desk, Mulder watched his
friend and teacher bustle around the room. Light filtered down from
the high windows to dance upon the expanse of stone floors and
illuminate the piles of books and papers strewn across every possible
resting place. Mulder carefully nudged one such jumble aside to gain a
better seat, then leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
        "We'll be fine," he said patiently yet again, and was ignored
for his trouble. Mulder sighed and closed his eyes, his mind
instinctively reaching out for Scully. He caught the edge of her
thoughts, an image of the stone courtyard warmed by the glow of
sunset and the weight on her shoulders.
        //Found what you needed?\\ he asked. He could almost
*see* the smile that grew on her face in response to his mental touch.
        //Yes, and one extra gift...\\ Then her mind stilled, and he
could feel her concern like a brush of cold air.
        //What's the matter?\\ he asked, waiting for her to tell him,
willing to grant her privacy by not simply taking the answer from her
mind.
        He could sense the equivalent of a mental sigh, then her
mind-voice rang clear. //It's Corvay. He's so frail, and has taken to
sleeping most of the day.   I don't think he has very much longer to
live.\\
        //I'm sorry.\\ He responded, accompanying the thought with
a wave of sympathy and reassurance, and his own memories of the
feisty, gallant healer.
        She acknowledged him with a quick, electric tap against his
consciousness, one of those strange little nuances of psychic
conversation they had developed over the length of their lifebond.
Then she changed the subject.
        //How are things going with Reinald?\\
        Mulder let her feel his mixture of amusement and
exasperation, then his thoughts coalesced into simple words. //He
thinks he has some maps of the Greyveil region somewhere, and a
couple of old history books that might tell us more about the
mysterious Hannu. I have a feeling, however, that we'll actually get
there long before Reinald finds anything.\\
        Scully's mind-laugh was like the chime of a church-bell, clear
and sweet. //You never know, love. And those maps would come in
handy...\\
        As though carefully timed to prove her right, the psychic
conversation was interrupted by a loud shout.
        "Ah ha!!!!" Reinald pounced on a small old iron-clad chest,
tucked away in a corner and covered with dusty old tomes.  "I knew it
was here somewhere."  He pulled the chest free and carried it to the
table in the center of the chamber.  Mulder closed his thoughts to
Scully warmly, then ambled over to join him.
        Reinald opened the chest, not with a key but by chanting a
few lines in the old tongue.  Its lid creaking, the chest opened to
reveal some cloth and several scrolls of a parchment-like material,
their edges brown and desiccated.  The old Mage reached in and
selected one, carefully unrolling it.  "Oh my goodness, so this is where
that went to."  He let it furl up and placed it on the table, then pulled
out the cloth. "If this is what I think it is...yes!  Here you go," and he
handed the cloth to his friend.
        Mulder unfolded the cloth carefully.  It was fine and
obviously very old.  It was a tapestry, one of the marvels of Realm
weaving that seemed almost holographic in its artwork.  It depicted a
scene of a man and a woman, both apparently Mages from the sparks
flying from their fingertips, who seemed to be involved in some
magical duel.
        "What is this, Reinald?"
        "A depiction of that legend I was telling you about
yesterday, the duel between a Blue Mage and a Black Mage.  The
Blue Mage is purported to be Hannu."
        Mulder looked closely at the artwork.  Hannu appeared to be
a tall, ebony haired man with odd, amber colored eyes.  He was
certainly a striking figure, as was the woman he did battle with.
        "Take that with you.  Perhaps it will help you in some way."
He reached again into the chest and chose another scroll.  "Yes, yes
this is it, my boy.  Some required reading for you."
        "What is it?"  Mulder asked, trying to read over Reinald's
shoulder.  Except for a very short Old Realm preamble, the entire
scroll was written using symbols he did not recognize.
        "This is a very valuable document, one that has been
surrounded in mystery.  Legend tells us that it has something to do
with the Lost Powers.  Now, that is not to say that everything in here
is true - all records this old seem to be a mixture of fact and legend,
with most of them being nothing but a collection of old myths.  But
this does have some element of truth to it, at least from what our
scholars have been able to divine."
        "What are those symbols?  I haven't seen those before,"
murmured Mulder.  He was intrigued by what little he had been able
to read of the scroll.
        "No, even our Mage-scholars have not been able to translate
them.  Their meaning is as lost as the powers they are supposed to
describe. Even the Old Realm section is so strange and archaic that
scholars have wrangled for centuries about its meaning.  That word is
purported to mean 'spell',"  he said, pointing with an inclination of his
whiskered chin.  "But for the most part, they remain a mystery.  If the
legends are true, this scroll could contribute more to our art than
anything has in our history. You are welcomed to put your mind to it.
I have more confidence in your mind than in anyone else's.  At worst,
it will be a diversion for you."
        "Reinald, if this scroll is so important and valuable, maybe I
shouldn't take it with me.  Conditions on this journey will be rough at
best.  I would hate it if anything happened to something with so much
historical significance."
        "Not to worry, my boy."  Reinald closed his eyes and passed
his hand over the parchment several times, muttering in the old
tongue.  A soft golden glow seemed to emanate from the surface of
the scroll.  As Reinald handed him the document, Mulder felt a warm
tingling in his fingertips.  "That spell should take care of any danger of
damage by water or fire, or wild beast attacks."  He quickly repeated
the spell over the tapestry.
        Mulder smiled.  "I don't suppose you could do the same for
the three of us?"
        Reinald looked troubled.  "Would that I could, Mulder.  You
have no idea how much I wish I had something for that.  No, this one
works only on inanimate objects.  Any of my protection spells for
beings are very short-lived and would not last you more than a day's
travel.  I am not particularly worried about what you might encounter
within that distance.  My fears for you increase with the distance you
travel.  If it were not so vital for your questions to be answered, I
would urge against this trip.  Is there no way I can convince you to
take along a small troop of guards?"
        Mulder shook his head vehemently.  "I've been over this with
Jourdain.  For one thing, we'll make better time if there's just the three
of us.  We'll also be less noticeable.  And, Reinald, can you honestly
say that the guards could do more to protect us than Scully and I can
do by ourselves?"
        The old Mage shook his head sadly.  "No.  But there is such
an odd feeling abroad in the Realm right now, and it makes me very
uneasy."
        "You mean the interspecies problems?"
        "That, and the Noble Houses fomenting unrest for their own
purposes.   And a young, untried king upon the throne - one whom I
happen to love very much.  Above all, the sensation that none of this
is natural."
        "Well, the Noble Houses are always up to something.  And
with a new king on the throne, it seems like an obvious time for them
to try something."  Mulder added the scroll to his pack.
        "Yes, I know.  But...you know how you felt when you
entered the dungeons the other day after Drellor disappeared?  That
disgusting stench, the feeling that insects were crawling all over you,
the...the almost palpable evil there?  I'm feeling that more and more.
Everywhere.  Much more subtly, of course, but it's always there, in
the background."
        Mulder looked grim.  "I know.  I've felt it too.  At first I
thought it was just a hangover from whatever was ailing Scully and
myself, that I was oversensitive or something.  But I agree.  It's the
Black Arts."  He reseated himself on the corner of the Mage's desk. "I
thought Tarnor had already banished most of the Black Mages.  Is
there one you know of that has this kind of power - the power to hold
distant beings in thrall?  I mean, Reinald - that's a terrifying thought."
        The old Mage nodded, his white beard and long flowing
white hair bobbing up and down as he did so.  "It is a terrifying
thought, Mage Mulder," he agreed.  "A terrifying thought, indeed.
Tarnor continues at his task, and fewer Black Mages remain in the
Realm.  And no, I know of no one with this kind of power.  That's the
most frightening part.  Once there might have been.  Again, our
cursed history being more prone to poetry and legend than fact, it
sheds little light.  There was a legend about a whole dynasty of kings
and queens who were incredibly potent practitioners of the Black
Arts.  Supposedly they were eradicated long, long ago."  He sighed.
"But if one still exists somewhere...."
        A rap on the door interrupted them.  It opened a crack, and a
leathery gray head poked through the opening.  "Am I coming at a
bad time?"
        Mulder smiled warmly.  "No, of course not, Tarnor.  Come
on in."  He went to the hearth and poured tea, and rose to hold a mug
out to the gargoyle.  "When did you get back?"  They removed the
clutter from the chairs and seated themselves at the hearth.
        "Just now.  I ran into Jourdain in the courtyard and he told
me you have spent the day preparing for a great journey."
        "Yes, we have.  We're going off in search of the mysterious
Hannu.  Can I get some tea for you, Reinald?"
        "Thank you, my boy.  After our conversation, I feel in need
of a restorative."
        The young Mage poured tea for himself and Reinald, as the
older man brought Tarnor up to date with Drellor's disappearance, the
events in Fawnleaf and the probability of the involvement of the Black
Arts.  Since Tarnor had just returned from his continuing mission to
seek and drive out any practitioners of black magic, he was well
versed in the subject.  The gargoyle's normally comic face was somber
when Reinald had finished.  He stared into his mug as he swirled the
contents absently.
        "I, too have felt it...that something was wrong somehow.  Of
the Black Mages I have been in contact with, a few are truly evil.
Most are merely foolish or overambitious or sick.  But none has had
the power to do what you're describing.  And even they have
mentioned a disquiet in the air, and oddly enough,  they have been at
pains to distance themselves from it.  You know, Mulder, I
understand that you and Scully need answers to your uncertainties
about your lifebond, and the complications that it's presenting.  But
this journey may be even more critical for another reason."  He
looked up to see that he had captured the scrutiny of his companions.
"Hannu - if he exists - is reputed to know more about the Lost
Powers than anyone else.  It may well be that we are going to need
those very powers to defeat whoever is using the Black Arts to cause
the Realm's problems.  And I don't think I'm being unduly pessimistic
when I say that those problems are probably going to get worse."
        Mulder sighed.  "No, unfortunately, it only makes sense.
Whoever it is that's been causing these problems has been successful
so far.  The Fawnleaf situation has been quelled for now, but for how
long?  And in how many other villages is the same hatred, the same
bigotry building to a fever pitch even as we speak?  Urielle said that
there was something unnatural about the emotions she was
encountering in Fawnleaf.  Could a Black Mage be wielding enough
power to superimpose that kind of hatred on beings?  On hundreds of
beings, and from an unknown distance?  That's a frightening amount
of power to be throwing around with impunity, for someone's own
evil ends."
        "Have you discovered what happened to Drellor, Reinald?"
asked Tarnor.
        Reinald rose and began to pace restlessly around the room.
"No.  I'm no closer now than when we first discovered his
disappearance.  He may have been in league with a Black Mage - he
has used their arts before.  Perhaps he was able to contact one
somehow, and was spirited out of his cell.  Or perhaps he was turned
into a fly, or a maggot.  Now that would be in character, anyway."
He threw himself back into his chair in frustration.  "I don't know.
And I can't even begin to guess how I can find out."
        "Perhaps he was even kidnapped,"  Mulder suggested.
        Tarnor looked doubtful.  "But why?"
        "Maybe his knowledge and his hatred of the king would be
helpful to someone.  Especially if that knowledge could be exploited
and turned against the Realm in some way.  He did swear revenge."
        "Possibly.  But while I draw breath, I vow that no one will
harm a hair on that boy's head,"  Reinald stated firmly.  Then he
nodded.  "Tarnor's right, Mulder.  Your journey is taking on more
importance by the moment.  And I think you have to be aware of
something.  A Black Mage powerful enough to do what we suspect
may also have enough power to discern your mission, and try to stop
you.  As if the usual perils of such a journey weren't enough to worry
about, there may be supernatural intervention to prevent you from
accomplishing your mission."
        "In that case, all of Jourdain's regiment wouldn't be enough
to protect us, so it's just as well to save them the trip."  Mulder's sense
of the ironic took over and he chuckled ruefully.  "What is it, Reinald?
You people dwell peacefully in the Realm for thousands of season-
cycles, then Scully and I show up and all hell breaks loose.  We leave,
things go back to normal.  We arrive again, things go to hell in a
handbasket again.  Is it us?  Do we somehow bring bad luck to you
people?"
        Tarnor laughed. Reinald just smiled fondly at his protege and
shook his head.  "The Dark Creatures made their appearance before
you did, Mulder.  It was just fortunate for our world that you and
Scully showed up when you did.  And I daresay the same may be true
now.  You may not accept the significance of your use of one of the
Lost Powers in Fawnleaf, but believe me when I tell you that it is a
sign of great hope for me right now.  No, rather than bringing us bad
luck, I think that perhaps the Goddess may be watching out for us by
having you appear when we need you most.  It's just a pity that your
visits here seem to be filled with danger to your own lives."
        Mulder returned the old Mage's fond smile.
        "Well, perhaps.  But there are so many compensations."
        The three men finished their tea in companionable silence.
Then, Tarnor said, "Oh, that's right!  I almost forgot why I came. I
brought you these."  He handed Mulder a sheaf of parchments tied up
with a leather thong.
        "What's this?" Mulder untied the strip of leather and
unfolded the papers. They were maps, illustrated beautifully enough
to have qualified as works of art, not unlike the illuminated
manuscripts of the Middle Ages.
        "These are the ones that you will need for your journey.  As
you can see, not only are the main travel routes marked, but also
some of the paths through forested areas, the best places to ford
rivers, and the dangers that exist in each area."  He followed Mulder
as the young Mage got up to spread the maps on the table.  Standing
close to him, he pointed out some of the features to Mulder.
        He traced the route with a bony gray finger.  "See, you will
follow the way of the Fairwoods River down to Magecloak Lake.
There are any number of villages with inns where you can pass the
night, but Coldshores is the biggest.  Then across the Uriin Plains."
Mention of that place caused the three men to shudder involuntarily.
Never could they forget the fighting that took place against the Dark
Creatures there, the lives lost, the horrors of that time.  "Then you
might want to cut across to Jinderling.  While you're there, you can
get an idea of any tensions that exist there.  It is a mixed town, with a
history of some interspecies squabbling, especially amongst the trolls
and the gargoyles.  The humans there have pretty much kept out of
it."  Mulder nodded, and filed the information away in his capacious
memory.
        "All right, try to spend the night there.  The fewer nights you
have to spend actually on the road, the better."
        "Amen to that,"  Mulder grinned.  He still ached from the
cold wet night he spent on the road to Fawnleaf.  Tarnor smiled back
and pulled the next map to the fore.
        "Right.  Then on to Fairwoods Glens, which is almost
exclusively elves.  That is the seat of Prince Mavor."
        "Excellent," said Mulder.  "I was hoping to be able to talk to
him anyway, and now in view of the interspecies problems, I think it's
a must.  I really respect him, and he may have some good counsel."
        "He is also extremely magically adept, as you will
remember," interjected Reinald,  "as well as a leading authority on
Realm history.  He may even be able to give you some information
regarding your quest."  The younger Mage nodded his understanding.
        "All right," continued Tarnor.  "Now, you'll notice that the
most direct route to the Gilfralia Mountains is here," he said, pointing.
"Unfortunately, it only looks easy.  The Greenswan River runs cold
and deep there and the current is fierce.  In addition, the river is
bordered by high stone cliffs of glass-like smoothness.  There is
absolutely no way to ford there.  So it means one of two things.
Either cutting through the northern part of the Greenswan Forest" -
Mulder pivoted at Reinald's inadvertent exclamation - "or give the
forest a wide berth, and journey over here to Dreegan, down the pass
to Goodearth Caverns, and cut over the south coast to the Greenswan
Delta."
        "That seems very far out of the way," said Mulder
doubtfully, studying the maps.
        "I know it seems that way, my boy, but please, heed my
warning," begged Reinald.  "Do not go through the Greenswan Forest
to the north.  The northern Greenswan is the way to sure death.
Terrible beasts dwell there, beasts which make the soul eaters look
like house pets.  And the forest is impossibly thick.  No path exists.
There is not enough room to lead a horse through there, even if you
could coax the animal to enter, which you probably couldn't.  It is said
that there are pits there which swallow a man whole and his horse as
well, and poisonous insects and serpents whose bite is deadly to all
beings.  In  the Realm, it is well known that there are two places
where no sane being would pass for any reward - the northern
Greenswan Forest, and Witch Tears Swamp."
        "Okay, but what about the southwestern edge of the forest?"
asked Mulder, tracing his finger over his suggested route.  "What if
we cut over from Dreegan through the forest that way?"
        Tarnor shook his large head.  "Too risky, for one thing.  No
one knows exactly the range of the beasts of the northern Greenswan.
You might think you're safe, and run into a slasher wandering far from
its den for food.  I would hate to see you or the ladies become that
food. For another, there is no path from Dreegan to the forest.
Travellers have been staying clear of the Greenswan for thousands of
season cycles. You would be climbing over rocks and hacking your
way through underbrush the whole way.  While it looks more direct,
in actuality it would take you much longer than if you went to
Goodearth Caverns and then along the coast to the Delta.  Besides,"
the gargoyle said, his teeth bared in a ferocious grin.  "if you skip
Goodearth Caverns, how will my family be able to entertain you?
You wouldn't want to disappoint them, would you?"
        "No, we can't have that,"  Mulder said smiling.  "Well, you're
the local boy - I suppose you know what you're doing when it comes
to traveling down there.  We'll do as you suggest.  Besides, I know
Scully can handle herself, but I wouldn't want to expose Shannon to
anything she's not ready for."
        "Thank you, my boy.  I am going to be anxious enough
without knowing you are headed for certain death by attempting to
pass through the Greenswan Forest."  If Mulder had any doubts about
the seriousness of Reinald's words, they were erased by the old man's
look of obvious relief.
        "All right, Tarnor, then what?"
        "Then through the Delta, up to the fordable part of the
Greenswan River, and over into the Gilfralia Mountains.  Then the fun
will begin, because no one knows exactly where Hannu might be.
Somewhere between Treetops and Peaksview is my best guess.  Quite
a journey."
        "Yeah.  Makes me tired just planning it," said the young
Mage.
        Reinald looked concerned.  "Are you sure you have
recovered enough?  Perhaps if you had another few nights to rest...."
        Smiling, Mulder shook his head.  "No, Reinald, it's now or
never.  Scully and I have to get a handle on this bond thing before
there are bigger problems than we've already experienced.  As long as
we stay together on this trip - and that is a priority, believe me - we'll
be fine.  Besides, with what's happening in the Realm, we can't afford
to wait.  Things are getting worse every day.  We have to go now.  A
Gate would be more convenient, but I guess we have to do this the
old-fashioned way."
        Another knock at the door sounded, and the Professor
peeked in.  "Am I disturbing you?  I heard Mulder's voice.  I have
those calculations that he wanted...."
        "Please!  Come on in."  Mulder leapt up to pour yet another
mug of tea and clear away another seat.  He exchanged the mug for
the paper the Professor extended to him, and studied it for several
moments while the Professor sat and made himself comfortable.
        "Uh, Scully was the physics major, Professor.  I'm sure all
this scrawl means something to you, but not to me, I'm afraid.  Would
you care to translate this?"
        Tarnor's ears flicked in interest.  "What calculations are you
doing, Professor?  Not another vortex, I hope."  He shivered, and his
companions chuckled.
        "No, not yet anyway.  Mulder asked me to try to calculate
how much more time he and Scully could remain in the Realm
without being missed in his world."
        The group sobered.  Reinald rubbed his brow and said softly,
"You are so much a part of us and our world that I forget that you
have another world and another life.  Thoughts of your leaving are so
painful, I probably wish to forget."
        "I know, Reinald.  Scully and I feel the same.  We discussed
it seriously before we went back the first time.  We were tempted to
stay, very tempted.  But I have my own quest in my world, to find my
sister again.  If it were not for Samantha and for Scully's family,
believe me, we'd be more than happy to stay here for the rest of our
lives.  In so many ways, the Realm and its beings mean more to us
than our own world.  But we must go back.  It's just nice that time
cooperates, and makes it possible for us to stay so long here and be
gone from our world only a fraction of that time.  Quite literally, we
can have the best of both worlds."  Mulder turned his gaze from the
kindly old Mage and looked at the Professor.  "So what's the bad
news, Professor Neumann?   When do I have to go back to driving
Skinner crazy?"
        The gaunt old man smiled.  "Precise calculations are, as you
know, difficult because of the eddies in the flow of relative time - now
speeding up, then slowing down.  As you can see by my figures" -
Mulder looked at him blankly - "well, no, perhaps you can't, but let
me assure you that I believe I'm fairly close in this estimate.  You
should have another month and a half to two months left in the Realm
without Skinner sending out the troops to look for his AWOL
agents."
        'AWOL' did not translate in New Realm, so Mulder did his
best to explain it to Tarnor and Reinald.  "So, Tarnor, since you are
the experienced traveller amongst us - how long do you think this trip
will take?"
        The gargoyle shrugged his bony shoulders.  "It depends on
how much trouble you run into en route.  I would say there was no
way you could do it in less than twelve sunrises, at best.  At worst,
maybe double that.  And that's just to get to what we hope is the right
area.  It's anyone's guess how long it will take you to find Hannu, if he
even exists."
        Mulder frowned.  "Counting the return trip, that's cutting it
pretty close."
        Reinald rose and scooped some crystals out of a leather bag
on his desk, then poured them into Mulder's cupped palms.  "This
should help.  Miniature Oracle Clouds.  We can use them to keep in
touch.  And when you have completed your quest, with you at a
distance and me here, with some luck we should be able to construct
a Gate to get you home.  I will put all my energies to it.  That will
save you the time and dangers of the return trip.  I just wish I knew of
a knowledgeable enough Mage near where you're going so I could
Gate you out there, but I don't.  Not one that I trust.  But this will
halve your danger, anyway.  The distance will be great, far greater
than anything I've yet attempted, but we may be able to pull it off."
        "I would be honored to help on this end, Mage Reinald,"
said Tarnor excitedly.
        "And if we're successful and find Hannu, the two of us
should be able to take care of the other end," agreed Mulder.
"Sounds like a plan.  We'll leave at first light."

                                        - - - - -

        Andalor nodded curtly, returning the salute of the guard in
the West Tower.   Up here on the battlements, some of his anger
cooled in the fresh breeze.  Maybe I should have stayed in Mulder's
world, he thought.  Here, he was surrounded by ridiculous nobles
with overinflated egos, problems from one end of the Realm to the
other, and duty - always duty.  When did he get to do what HE
wanted?  And if Reinald thought that he would accept one of the
loathsome Dordinal girls as his bride, well, he'd look for the nearest
available vortex.  His pace slowed a bit and he finally paused to look
out over the North Wall at the twin moons suspended over the thick
forest below.  He had to admit that his first foray into Mulder's world
had been far from ideal - beset with more problems and dangers than
the Realm.  Surely it would not be that way again. And if it came to a
choice between facing all the dangers that Mulder's world could
throw at him, and waking up every morning for the rest of his life
beside the revolting Hordensa or Burthilda - well, the decision would
be easy.
        He began walking again at a more leisurely pace and came to
the turn where the north and east battlements met.  Suddenly, his
heart caught in his throat.  Fifty paces ahead, Shannon stood looking
out at the night sky, her long black hair loose, her simple pale blue
shift billowing in the breeze.  Now why couldn't the Dordinal girls
look more like Shannon, and less like one of the Dark Creatures?  He
approached quietly, half-reluctant to disturb her thoughts.  "You
should have a cloak - it's cold up here."
        Shannon turned to him with a soft smile and gratefully
accepted the king's cloak, which he draped over her shoulders.
"Thanks. I forgot how much colder it would be up here."  In answer
to the question in his eyes, she said  "I just couldn't sleep.  I know I
should, we'll be leaving in just a few hours.  But I'm so excited!  Just
think of the things I'll see!"
        Andalor smiled at her, having to look slightly down at her.
They were both growing at a rapid rate and there was an
unacknowledged contest between them to see who was the taller at
any particular time.  He finally had outpaced her, and enjoyed his inch
advantage.  "Hoping to run into some dragons to slay?"
        "Are there dragons here?  Really?"  When the king could
hold back his mirth no longer and spluttered with laughter, she knew
she had been duped once again.  "When am I going to learn not to
believe you?  Andy, there are times that, king or not, you piss me
off!"
        He laughed, his previous bad mood evaporating in the easy
friendship he had with this exciting girl from Mulder's world.  "But,
Shannon, you're such an easy mark!  Besides, I have to get even.
You didn't treat me very well when we were in your world."
        "I treated you as well as you deserved," she shot back.  Then
she drew the cloak more securely around her shoulders.  "What are
you doing up here, anyway?"
        "I often come up here - you know, surveying my vast
kingdom," he said dryly. Her look told him that clearly, she did not
believe him.  "Okay, I was upset at Reinald, and I came up here to
walk around until my mood improved.  I've been coming up here
quite a lot lately."
        "Is he on your case again?"
        "Yeah.  Well, I don't blame him.  What is your saying?  "It's
a dirty job, but someone's got to do it?"   It's just that..."  he slapped
his palms on the top of the wall in frustration "...I HATE being told
what to do all the time, and my duty to the Realm always being
thrown in my face.  I know what my duty is, I've been told what it is
since I can remember.  There's so many problems right now, serious
ones.  But I'd hate to think my reward for doing my duty, and
working hard to try to solve those problems, would be to be stuck for
life with one of the Dordinal girls."
        Shannon burst out laughing.  "The Ostrich and the Warthog?
Goddess, Reinald isn't serious, is he?"
        Andalor smiled grudgingly.  "Well, to his credit, I don't think
he is serious, not about them, anyway.  I think he was presenting the
worst case, so I will be more amenable to whoever else they come up
with for me to marry.  Reinald was just making sure I knew that it
was my duty to marry for the good of the Realm.  Which means a
wife who will bring political strength and bear many sons.  Since one
can never be sure of the latter, it means that the former is a critical
factor."  He sighed.  "I know it's the custom of the Realm for royals
and nobles to have their marriages arranged and blessed by the
Council of Representatives.  Even some of the commoners believe in
arranged marriages.  But I had so hoped that at least I would be
allowed to choose my own wife," he closed, wistfully.
        "You mean, you might have to marry someone you haven't
even met?"  Shannon was clearly horrified.
        Andalor smiled bitterly.  "Yes, that's the way of the Realm.
And while you're busy feeling badly for me, mark this.   As your
taabsut, and having the position that he does in the life of the Realm,
Mulder would be expected to arrange your marriage."
        "No!  He'd never do that!" she cried, aghast.
        "Shannon, he might not have any choice.  If it were entirely
up to Reinald, I'm sure he would rather I marry for love.  But it's not
his choice.  The traditions here are too strong.  But all that hardly
matters if you're not going to stay here."
        "I haven't decided what I'm doing yet.  If I want to stay, I'll
stay."
        "But aren't Mage Mulder and Warrior Healer Scully going to
leave?"
        "Yeah, they say they have to get back, soon after we return
from our trip.  I think they're kind of leaving it up to me whether I go
with them or stay here."  She turned away from him to look out over
the night sky once again, her eyes filling with tears.  "It's different for
them - they're going back TO something.  I have nothing to go back
to.  I don't know what I'm going to do."
        "You know that you have made friends here, all of whom
would be very sorry to see you go."
        "Does that include you?" she asked him, her tone at once
joking and earnest.
        His voice was serious, his appearance more adult than she
had ever envisioned it. "Especially me, Shannon."  Slightly
awkwardly, he wrapped her in his arms.  "You'll be careful on this
trip, won't you?  Let Mulder and Scully slay a few of the dragons?"
        "I'll be careful, Andalor. You know me - indestructible." Her
voice was muffled, her breath close to his neck.
        "I only wish that were true.  And I know you far too well to
imagine that you won't be in the middle of things if trouble breaks
out."
        She gave him a sneaky but good-natured punch on the
shoulder and stepped back from the circle of his arms.  "You callin'
me a troublemaker?"
        "I?  Far be it for me to cast aspersions on your lily-white
feminine character, but may I remind you who almost whipped that
gang in your world single-handedly?   Of course, that was only after
you got us in trouble with them to start with...."
        As he had known it would, her mood instantly changed from
that of troubled teenager to playful child and he took to his heels, as
giggling, she chased him along the battlements.

                                        - - - - -

        The cottage sat hunched at the wall of the courtyard, black
against the marginally lighter night sky.  No fading of moons and
stars, no promise of dawn was yet imminent.  The silence was total,
the peace complete.
        Which made the stillness-shattering scream from the cottage
even more frightening.

                                        - - - - -

        The sky was just beginning to brighten with the first rays of
weak sunlight when the group assembled outside the main courtyard.
For the fifth time, Scully adjusted her saddle and checked that the
pack animals had been properly loaded with everything they had
collected to bring.  Mulder was conferring with Reinald and Tarnor,
receiving last-minute instructions, warnings and well-wishes.  Andalor
and Shannon had withdrawn a little, away from the group, their heads
together in earnest conversation.  She waited nervously, anxious to be
on their way.  At a window in a cottage across the garden, she
spotted Kyla, helping Corvay to stand to offer his own farewell to the
group.  She waved and blew him a kiss, and was rewarded with the
old healer's smile.  Then they disappeared from the window, doubtless
to return Corvay to his warm bed.  Again there was a tug on her heart
as she thought of how much she loved and respected her old teacher.
Sighing, she took the reins in her hands.
        "Mulder, Shannon.  It's time."
        Accepting a leg up from a nearby guard, she mounted her
huge Realm steed.  Mulder shook hands with the other Mages, then
patted a clearly worried Reinald gently on the shoulder.  He walked
over to his horse, easily swinging up into the saddle.  In seconds she
felt him in her mind, having picked up on her nerves and taking a
moment to send a message of love and reassurance.  She
acknowledged it gratefully and turned to check Shannon's progress.
Shannon pecked Andalor on the cheek and in a moment was on her
horse too.  They urged their mounts toward the portcullis.
        "Scully!  Mulder!  Wait!"
        Scully's head snapped around even as she drew in her reins,
to see Aldara and Jourdain running towards them, Daanna cradled in
her father's arms.  She slid off her horse and ran to meet them.  "What
is it?  Is Daanna ill?"
        Aldara was chalk-pale, her ebony curls tangled.  "She had
another foretelling dream, Dana.   She awoke screaming, and it was a
full two candlemarks before we could get any sense out of her.  But
you have to hear what she says before you go."
        "Did you have a scary dream, Daanna?  Will you tell me
about it?"  Scully asked the solemn child.  Mulder dismounted to
appear at her side.
        Daanna nodded to Scully, but turned and spoke to Mulder.
"She'll try to stop you.  Stay together and don't let her stop you.  You
have to pass the test, you must pass it.  Or you won't find him."
        "Who'll try to stop us, honey?"  Mulder's voice was soft,
calm, assuring.
        "SHE will.  The lady with the black clothes.  She's bad, and
she'll try to hurt you.  But you have to pass a test to find the Blue
Man, and if you don't, everything will get all scary and bad things will
happen to everyone."  The child was shaking, close to tears, and she
reached out to Mulder.
        As he took her in his arms, he glanced over her head at the
assembled adults.  Daanna's words and their meaning had not been
lost on any of them.  He stroked her hair and said  "All right, sweetie.
Now you've told us, and we'll do just as you say.  Don't worry, we'll
be fine because you've been such a big help, and we'll make sure the
scary things don't happen, okay?"
        The child gazed at him with eyes that seemed hundreds of
season-cycles old.  "You HAVE to be okay, Mage Mulder.  All
THREE of you have to be okay for the good things to happen," she
said firmly.
        He nodded slowly, treating her with deadly seriousness.  "I
promise, Daanna."
        She gave him a watery smile before reaching out to her
mother.  Mulder handed the child over to Aldara and swung himself
up into the saddle again.  Jourdain lifted Scully onto her horse.
        With hearts and minds too full for words, the Mage, his
bondmate and his halla rode out through the portcullis and the safety
of Fairwoods Keep.

End of Chapter Six