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 Eleven

        Across the dark courtyard, hearthglow spilled from the
windows of the little cottage.  Jourdain and Aldara had been up for a
candlemark, since Daanna's latest dream.  The little girl had been
comforted and soothed, and just had returned to an apparently
dreamless sleep.  Her parents, on the other hand, had given up all
thoughts of sleep for the moment.  Jourdain stirred the fire into life
and set a kettle on the hod, then eased himself into one of the deeply
cushioned chairs by the hearth.  "I swear she slept better when she
was a baby."  His eyes were darkly circled, and he wondered to
himself if they would ever be able to get a full night's rest again.
        Aldara turned haunted eyes to him.  "Jourdain, what's
happening to our child?  Is she enchanted?  I don't understand any of
this!  Another foretelling dream - the third this week alone.  And
always the same - 'stay together, watch out for the bad lady, pass all
the tests', each time with more urgency than the last."  Her voice
broke.  "Jourdain, I want my little girl back!"
        He took her hands and pulled her from her chair into his lap,
cradling her as he had done their child shortly before.  "I don't know
what it all means, Aldara.  The ways of magic are just as foreign and
difficult for me to comprehend as they are for you.  But of one thing I
am sure - this has meaning.  These dreams are telling us something,
warning us.  And we are meant to listen and profit by them.  In the
morning, I will speak to Reinald of this latest dream."
        "But who is doing it, who is making her have them?" she
cried desperately.
        He shook his head.  His deep voice was calm.  "I don't
know.  Maybe no one.  You know what Lita says.  The orange and
blue of her aura is unique, and it is stronger, more visible than usual.
Perhaps she was born to be a seer, a prophetess.  I'm a simple man,
Aldara.  I don't question.  These things just are."
        "She is being robbed of her childhood, and I hate it."
        He smiled down at his wife.  "You don't know that.   Except
for the dreams, she seems happy enough.  And she is very intelligent
for her age.  All we can do is be there for her when she needs us, as
any parent would be.  This will pass."
        "I hope so, Jourdain.  By the Goddess, I hope so."

                                        - - - - -

        The sun high in the sky was streaming through the windows,
throwing rainbows across the chamber walls by the time they awoke.
At some point during the night they had moved from the hearthrug to
the high Realm bed.  Now they lay in each other's arms and sleepily
watched the servant lay the table for breakfast through a blizzard of
white lace.
        //Can you grab me something to wear, something a little
more...more?\\ Her thoughts came to him as if he had formed them
himself.  She caught his bubble of amusement and the quick flash of
regret as he lovingly traced his palm from her throat to her breast, the
nipple clearly visible through the diaphanous black nightshift.  A quick
kiss and he rolled out of bed to search through the armoire to find her
something to put on.  The servant, an elderly male elf, wished him
good day and carried on with his chores.  Mulder tossed a silky wrap
in to Scully, then turned toward the entrance to their room.
        "Hello?"  Shannon's head poked through the door to their
chamber.   "Well, it's about time you two got up.  Oh, great!
Breakfast!  I'm starved." Dressed in a flowing green underdress and
gold bodice, she entered the room and plopped herself down on the
cushions around the table.  Only Realm etiquette kept her from
helping herself to the many strange but tempting dishes until Mulder
and Sculy finally seated themselves.
        "Sleep well?"  Scully asked.
        "Great - and yourselves?"  Shannon returned with a
mischievous grin.  "Never mind, spare me the details I'm too young to
know about."
        Mulder and Scully both colored.  "Just pass that yellow
stuff," Mulder suggested, hoping the subject would change.
        "Sure."  Shannon frowned and closed her eyes.  Slowly, the
bowl levitated, dipped alarmingly, and began moving in Mulder's
general direction, picking up a dangerous amount of speed as it did
so.  A messy accident was averted only by his quick use of magic to
halt the bowl and right it before it overturned in his lap.
        "Sorry," grinned the girl.  "I wanted to surprise you."
        "You nearly surpassed your wildest expectations," Mulder
retorted dryly.  "Sorry," he called over to the servant, who was
shaken by the unexpected display of magic.  The elf scurried out of
the room.  "I think we have a little more work to do, Shannon, before
you're not a danger to your tablemates."
        "I'm beginning to feel left out, " complained Scully, only
half-kidding.
        "Try it - you'll never know if you can until you try.  Go
ahead," he urged  "Take a shot at it.  The principles and energies are
very similar to what you use in healing."
        She looked at him questioningly, to see how serious he was.
Then she felt his presence in her mind, giving support, helping guide
her to focus her thoughts and ground the power.  She concentrated
on the bowl of yellow mush-like food that sat in front of Mulder,
focusing her energies on it, on making it rise. Unnoticed, the rings
they wore glowed brightly, the stones becoming almost luminescent.
Slowly, the bowl rose a finger's breadth above the table, then flew up
into the air where it hovered for some seconds before settling back
down with a soft thud.  She sat back, amazed and surprisingly
drained.
        "Hey, not bad for a first try," commented her bondmate
approvingly.  "I must be rubbing off on you."
        //Mulder, you didn't-\\
        //Well, I may have helped just a little.\\  His eyes were warm,
his smile proud.  Their gazes locked.
        "Hey guys - you said you'd cut that out!"
        Scully laughed.  "Sorry, Shannon.  You're right.  Let's eat."
        Now a plethora of new taste experiences awaited them.
Cuisine at Fairwoods Keep had been mostly those dishes favored by
humans, except when Lita made one of her special elven treats.  They
had always assumed that the food there was pretty representative of
that of other cultures in the Realm.  They had all been too hungry and
too exhausted to take much note of what they were eating the night
before.  Now they realized how sheltered their experience at the castle
had been.  Mulder helped himself to the yellow stuff with some
misgiving, but found it delicious - an elven equivalent to porridge, but
with an interesting honey-cinnamon flavor.  The fruit juice which
tasted like peppermint surprised them, but went well with the
flatbread and sweet cakes that lay piled on their wooden platter.
Cheeses in a rainbow of colors and differing flavors and textures sat
nearby. Strange fruits were presented in a myriad of ways - whole,
stewed, sliced, soaked in wine and spices.
        When they had tried all the offerings with varying degrees of
satisfaction, Shannon pushed herself back from the table.  "I'm going
to the marketplace - are you two coming?"
        "We'll see you there as soon as we're dressed.  And try to
stay out of trouble," Mulder called with mock severity after her
retreating form.  He caught her laugh as the door closed.
        A candlemark later, they strolled through the marketplace
side by side.  Scully had chosen a flowing lightweight wool gown in
white, which she had dubbed her "Princess Leia outfit" as soon as she
saw it.  Despite the bright sunlight, the air was crisp and cool, and she
was glad for the long forest green wool tunic she had donned over the
dress.  A silver belt held her weapons.  Mulder was clothed in brown
leather breeches and a loose white shirt belted with leather, over
which he wore his Mage cloak.
        The marketplace was a mass of beings, colors, aromas and
sounds.  Elves from remote villages spoke in a patois of New Realm
and the old elven tongue, and the harsh gutturals of the ancient troll
language could be heard.  Traders cried their wares, minstrels played
their odd stringed and wind instruments, and children shrieked with
excitement.  Here and there fights broke out among different beings, a
sign of the tensions sweeping over the Realm, but Mavor's soldiers
quickly broke them up.  Food of every kind and description - some
even defying identification - was offered at busy kiosks; everywhere
beings seemed to be munching enjoyably on something.  Pennants
flew over the booths, bearing the age-old crests of the clan of the
sellers.
        They checked in at the troll caravan, the wagons arranged in
an arc, the sides let down to create platforms on which to display their
goods.   After their hard journey, Mulder and Scully were gratified to
see that business was brisk.  Krolgar waved happily to them before
returning to bargain with two customers.
        "I'm not sure I'd buy a used car from him," commented
Scully, "but he might make a first class negotiator for the State
Department."  Mulder smiled his agreement.
        They made several circuits of the marketplace.  Scully, no
poor negotiator herself, bought several small items - a lovely
miniature tapestry and a couple of inexpensive but beautifully crafted
pieces of jewelry for her mother.  Mulder bought a short double-
edged dagger in a tooled leather sheath.  "It's for Skinner - he can use
it as a letter opener."
        His bondmate looked at it doubtfully.  It was very alien-
looking, with Old Realm symbols on the sheath and the blade of a
metal that was unknown in their world.  "How are you going to
explain it?"
        "I'm not.  He may not even notice.  And if he does, he won't
ask, because he'll be afraid I'll tell him it's from Reticula.  It'll drive
him crazy," Mulder said with a grin.  "Besides, it'll give me something
comforting to look at on his desk when I go in to get my ass chewed."
Scully laughed as he slipped the dagger into his belt.
        Furflot found them in the milling sea of beings, not as
difficult a task as it sounded.  Mulder was the tallest person in the
crowd by at least half a meter, and his Mage cloak and aura would
have located him even if his height hadn't.
        "Mage Mulder, Prince Mavor will be ready for you shortly.
Will you join him?"
        "By all means, Furflot.  I'm afraid we kind of lost track of
time."  The three left the hubbub of the marketplace for the cool
serenity of the palace.  After a series of turns and staircases, they were
shown into Prince Mavor's private quarters.  The elf sat at a
worktable, writing.  He was clad in the scarlet bordered with gold that
was almost indistinguishable from Furflot's uniform.
        They bowed low in respect for both the being and his
position.  Smiling, Mavor rose and advanced toward them, extending
his hand in greeting in a very un-Realm-like way.  "Good to see you
again, Mage Mulder, Warrior Healer Scully.  It's been too long.  I'm
glad you could visit before you must return to your world."
        The bondmates looked at each other.  As a staunch ally of
Andalor, Mavor was privy to more knowledge of the happenings in
Fairwoods Demesne than most.  But they had always assumed that he
knew only that they were from a distant land with different customs.
Reinald had kept their origins secret from everyone but those involved
in their arrival.  Exactly how much did he know?
        Seeing their startled faces, he continued, "Yes, I know the
whole story now - the Vortex, your world, Andalor's little trip there.
Reinald and the Professor were most informative when I was at the
castle for the coronation.  Besides, I might have guessed that you
weren't from our world.  Certain versions of the Prophecy hinted
strongly that our saviors from the Dark Creatures would come from
well beyond our world."
        "We meant you no slight, Your Highness.  It just
seemed...less confusing, less alarming, if our origins remained
unknown,"  Scully explained.
        "No offense taken.  Will you join me for tea?"  He indicated
a low dining table and they settled themselves on the cushions.
        Pouring the tea, Mavor said, "Now, I understand you are on
something of a quest."
        Mulder nodded and quickly summarized their mission - to
find Hannu, for personal reasons as well as for the good of the Realm.
        "Hannu," the Prince replied thoughtfully.  "Interesting.  Well,
in questions of the lifebond, you must certainly hope you find him.
No one has as much knowledge about the lifebond as Hannu was
reputed to have.  It had been pretty well discounted as yet another
myth - until you came, that is.  I can't say if the physical problems you
are experiencing are due to the uniqueness of the bond itself, or its
affect on someone of your origins.  Possibly Hannu can.  I'll never
forget the first time I saw you two together...."  He paused several
moments in reminiscence, then continued with energy.
        "Now, as to the cause of the ills befalling the Realm, I have
no doubt of what it is - the Black Arts.  Daily, the stench of black
magic increases as the troubles worsen.  A more difficult question
would be who is causing it."
        "Do you have any ideas?  I had thought that the Black Arts
had been for the most part eradicated in the Realm,"  Mulder said.
        "In the Realm it has, but the Realm is but one part of our
world.  There are three main areas.  The Realm covers but the central
third.  To the west, there is largely unsettled territory.  Great deserts,
barren plateaus, wild mountain ranges.  Some of our unique beings -
those you may have seen at the coronation, for example - come from
some of those areas. They live in loose clans and call no man king.
Then to the east, beyond the Mossy River to the north and the
Greenswan River to the south, there is another area beyond the reach
of the Realm.  The whole eastern area of our world carries with it
many strange tales - perhaps legends, perhaps the truth.  But again,
little is known for certain of the area and its peoples.  So to answer
your question, Mage Mulder, the Black Arts may flourish in these
areas and the Realm would be none the wiser.  If I had to make a
guess about the source of the Realm's current ills, I would say
certainly to the east, and possibly Witch Tears Swamp."
        "Mulder has told me the little he knows of the Swamp, that
no sane being would travel through there - that and the Greenswan
Forest.  We're fairly close to there, aren't we?"  asked Scully.
        "You have been advised well.  Yes, we are too close for
comfort sometimes, certainly too close to relax our vigilance.  Every
so often a creature strays from there, wreaking death and destruction
on our people until we hunt it down.  But at least Greenswan has
never been associated with the Black Arts.  Witch Tears Swamp, on
the other hand...."
        "Tell us about it," urged Mulder, helping himself to more tea.
        "Witch Tears Swamp is in the extreme northeast part of our
world.  It is said that long ago it was ruled by a dynasty of Mage-
kings who were practitioners of the Black Arts.  They became a
danger to our world, threatening to take over the Realm and
everywhere else, for that matter.  A consortium of Blue Mages - the
most powerful practitioners of pure magic in the Realm - worked
together to strip them of their power.  Eventually, the dynasty ended -
the Black Mage-king either driven out or killed.  But...."  The prince
frowned.
        "But if the Black Mage-king is indeed gone, why do beings
still avoid the Swamp?  Is it merely superstition?" questioned Scully.
        The prince sighed.  "Another of our legends, a little known
one,  tells of a daughter of the Black Mage-king, supposedly the only
one of his family to survive.  It is said she somehow managed to learn
enough to not only control her power, but to actually increase it.
There was supposed to have been a climactic battle between this
Black Mage-queen and a Blue Mage - some say Hannu himself - after
which both vanished without a trace."
        "Nothing vanishes without a trace," replied Scully, with a
certain touch of irony.  "And if this was Hannu who took part in the
battle and he vanished, then we're wasting our time looking for him."
        The prince shook his head.  "Not necessarily.  It is said that
Hannu reappeared after a very long period of time, then immediately
retreated from the world."
        "And if Hannu could reappear," Mulder continued
thoughtfully, "presumably the Black Mage-queen could too."
        "Precisely."  The three finished their tea in ruminative
silence.  A queen out for revenge, with almost unlimited power and
proficient in the Black Arts, could certainly explain the
uncharacteristic hatred and violence rife in the Realm.
        "So how do we find Hannu?"  the young Mage asked finally.
        "Unfortunately, it means turning to another of our legends."
Mavor rose and crossed the high-beamed room to a tall bookcase and
plucked a volume from a shelf.  He returned to the table and handed
the book to Scully.  She leafed through the pages blankly, then passed
it on to Mulder who was proficient in the Old Realm language of the
book.  He read silently for several minutes, then closed the volume
and gave it back to Mavor.
        "Apparently his whereabouts are secret, and he is kind of -
there isn't a direct translation for the word, but 'protected' is close
enough - from the world by both magic and a few select beings,"
Mulder explained.  "The story goes that the beings will let a chosen
few pass to see Hannu, but not until they solve some sort of problem
he presents."  He looked meaningfully at Scully.
        "Daanna's dream!" she exclaimed.  "'You have to pass the
test'."
        He nodded, then turned toward Prince Mavor.  "How
reliable are these legends?"
        "No one knows.  But they're the only information we have."
        Mulder rose, offering a hand to Scully.  "Thank you, Your
Highness.  You've been a great help."
        He walked them to the door of his chamber.  "I hope you
plan to attend the party tonight.  We have a celebration every spring
which coincides with the Spring Market Fair.  All are invited.  We had
given some thought to canceling in view of the interspecies
difficulties, but instead decided to present an example of how the
species could get along.  I know there have been some problems in
the marketplace, but they have not been serious, and I would not want
to disappoint my people who look forward to this event with great
anticipation."
        "We'd be honored to attend," said Scully. "Thank you."
        He nodded, smiling.  "Your servants will give you ample
time to prepare.  I plan to rest now for tonight - elven parties are
long, energetic affairs.  I suggest you do the same."
        They left the prince and strolled the corridors of the palace
arm in arm.  "What now, love?  Back to the marketplace to see what
damage my halla is doing, or take Mavor's advice and rest up so we
can party hearty?"
        "I don't know, what do you feel like doing, Mulder?
Because it's a cinch that after yesterday, we have to stick within sight
of each other or suffer the consequences."
        "I've got a pretty low tolerance for shopping.  And if
Shannon is turning the marketplace upside down, I don't want to
know about it.  I'm feeling lazy - how about a nap?"
        Scully smiled and squeezed his arm.  "One of your better
suggestions."

                                        - - - - -

        At dawn two mornings later, Scully smiled over at the still
sleeping form of her bondmate as she packed their belongings.  The
extra day they had spent at Fairwoods Glens had been worth it - the
trolls got more time to trade, and they had more time to recover from
their journey thus far and the incredible party two nights previous.
        Elves knew how to party.  Indeed, they gave the trolls a run
for their money when it came to excessive partying.  There was more
food than Scully had ever seen before in one place, and somehow, all
of it had been consumed by the time the party broke up at dawn the
following morning.  She and Shannon had quickly learned the old elf
folk dances, and never lacked for partners.  Mulder had joined in on
some, but for the most part was content to see her whirling
throughout the room in her sea-green gown, her auburn hair loose,
her cheeks pink with exertion and excitement.  Only two fist fights
occurred to mar the occasion, but the miscreants were separated and
led out to cool off overnight in the dungeon, and the party continued
as if the incidents hadn't happened.
        She had also learned to her chagrin that elven Spring Punch
might taste like an innocuous fruity concoction, but it tended to give
human overimbibers a nightmare of a hangover.  She and Shannon
had crept around their chambers the day after the party, unable to do
anything more strenuous than read, and found that turning the pages
was too deafening for their pounding heads to withstand.  Mulder,
who had been warned off the punch by a concerned Furflot, was not
afflicted except for the echo of Scully's discomfort he received
through their bond.  Since Scully was not up to going out and their
bond seemed to have a problem with their being separated, Mulder
invited Mavor to join him in their chamber.  The two spent the day
bent over the scroll Reinald had given him, trying to decipher the
ancient language with no success whatsoever.
        A timid knock sounded on the door, and Shannon stuck her
head in.  "Jhorgab's here.  Time to go."
        Scully nodded.  "We're just about ready.  And how are you
this morning?"
        Shannon smiled wanly.  "I'm hoping the fresh air will help.
Dana, if I EVER do that again, for God's sake, STOP me!"
        "One of life's little lessons we all have to learn.  If I had
known what a punch that punch packed, I would have stopped both
of us.  Is anything else wrong, Shannon?  You don't seem yourself this
morning."
        Shannon sat down on a cushion by the hearth.  "I don't
know, Dana.  I haven't been sleeping very well.  I don't know what
the heck it is.  I lie down and get relaxed and then I just start thinking
and my mind keeps going around and around."
        Scully tucked the last memento in her saddlebag and went to
sit next to the troubled girl.  "Anything I can help with?  Are you
thinking about anything in particular?"
        "Yeah...a couple of things, actually.  Like what I'm going to
do when you and Mulder go back to our world."
        "I know that's going to be a big decision for you.  Any idea
of what you're going to do yet?  I mean, I wish we all could stay here
in a way, but it's just not possible."
        "Oh, I know that, Dana. And I think I've just about made up
my mind to stay here when you leave."
        Scully nodded, trying to keep her expression neutral.  She
and Mulder had also discussed innumerable times what would be best
for Shannon's future.  She knew he had offered to support her, to
send her to any school she wanted, and have her live with them on
school holidays.  Mulder was taking his responsibilities as the girl's
guardian extremely seriously.  But more importantly, he had grown to
love her like the little sister he had lost so long ago, whom Shannon
more than remotely resembled.  Scully knew that while staying in the
Realm might be the best choice Shannon could make for herself, it
would be another loss for her bondmate to endure.
        "You said a couple of things had been bothering you."
        "Yeah, well, you'll probably like this one even less,"
Shannon replied.  "I've been thinking a lot - maybe too much - about
Andy."
        "Just what do you mean by 'thinking'?"
        "You know, that I like him...a lot.  And I miss him more than
I thought I would. An awful lot more than I thought I would.
Wondering what he's doing, is he safe, that kind of thing."
        "And wondering if he's thinking those same things about
you."
        She smiled shyly.  "Well...yeah."
        "Hey, kiddo - how's it going?"  Mulder had emerged from
the bed, hair tousled with sleep.  "Feeling better today?"
        "Oh, yeah, I'm really up for a nice long horseback ride to
Dreegan,"  Shannon replied dryly.
        "Good," said Scully, rising.  "Because that's exactly what
we'll be doing.  About half a candlemark, Mulder."  She shouldered
the two saddlebags, grabbed another sack of supplies, and left to
organize their departure.
        "I couldn't help but overhear..."
        "I was afraid of that," Shannon said glumly, as Mulder sat
near her.
        He nodded, and his eyes, deadly serious, locked with hers.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt, Shannon.  There's no future in
it.  That's not your fault, it's not his.  It's just the way things are here.
I wish it could be otherwise for both you and Andalor."
        "But I can't help how I feel."  Tears welled up in the girl's
honey-colored eyes.
        "I know, dear.  Whatever Dana and I can do, we will, you
know that.  But this culture has been around a lot longer than any of
us, and it will be around long after we're gone.  We're not going to
change it...we have no right to."  As she began to weep in earnest, he
slid over and wrapped her in his arms.  "I'm sorry, baby.  I'm so
sorry."
        He held her and stroked her hair until she calmed, then she
sniffed and pulled away.  "Never mind.  He probably doesn't feel the
same way about me, anyway."
        "He'd be crazy not to."  Mulder's look spoke volumes, and
the girl blushed prettily.  "Okay, kiddo.  Scram while I get washed
and dressed.  Go help Scully saddle the horses - and DON'T try to
take a shortcut and use your magic.  We'll have a stampede on our
hands!"
        Shannon giggled and went to join Scully in the courtyard.
Within the candlemark, they had rejoined the troll caravan and were
on the road to Dreegan.

End of Chapter Eleven

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 Twelve

        The road from Fairwood Glens to Dreegan skirted the edge
of the Greenswan forest. They cut across rolling hills getting closer
and closer to the mountain peaks that rose above them in the distance.
Most of the surrounding population was elven, with a few stray
humans thrown in. Trolls rarely came this far south, which made the
caravan something of a spectacle. More than once the farmers and
their families stopped in mid-planting, leaving hoes and workbeasts
aside, to watch wide-eyed as the wagons rolled past. The trolls took
the attention with easy good-humor, waving their curved, long-
fingered hands in greeting as they passed by.
        For her part, Scully was content to ride peacefully. Despite
the brief respite that Fairwood Glens had provided, this journey had
been fraught with trouble. It had only been by lucky chance that she,
Mulder and Shannon had not been injured during the bandit attack a
few days ago, and the weight of healing so many others had drawn
deeply upon her reserves of strength and herbal supplies. Of course,
the heavy partying with the elves hadn't done her much good either,
she thought ruefully.
        Sensing her somber mood, Mulder reached out to her with
silent reassurance. //Are you all right?\\
        //Yes...\\ She turned to look up into his deep hazel eyes, and
forced out a smile. But the expression turned genuine within an
instant of seeing his face. //Yes, love, I'm fine. Just a little worried.
Wondering what's going to leap out at us next.\\
        //I know,\\ Mulder replied, //but it's hard to be on edge all
the time. Sooner or later, you have to let your guard down, or you'll
go crazy.\\ There was a wealth of meaning in his words, and she
reached out to him physically this time. They were, as they had been
for several days now, staying close to each other's side. Separation,
even for short periods of time, left them both feeling physically sick
and emotionally raw. After a separation that morning had caused
Mulder to snap unpleasantly at Shannon, they had agreed, without
needing to verbalize it, that they would avoid being parted for any
length of time.
        His fingers closed over hers, and she felt the tension ease
from her body. Just feeling his skin next to hers was a balm to her
senses. Yet, it also left a tingly desire for more, deeper contact. She
had always been a carefully controlled person, guarding her privacy,
and she didn't understand why she could so easily welcome public
interaction with her lover, even to the point that if he had wished to,
she'd have made love to him in full view of the entire caravan.
        //Now *that* has possibilities,\\ he teased lightly, catching
the flash of images directly from her mind.
        She gave him a look of disapproval, then sighed, squeezing
his fingers between her own. //I hope this Hannu can help us. As
much as I love your company, this is getting ridiculous.\\
        //Yeah,\\ he agreed thoughtfully. //The information Mavor
gave us seems to contain more questions than answers. But it does
sound as though Hannu is the one person who might have some idea
of what is happening to us. I love being with you, but we can't live or
function if we can't get more than a few paces apart without freaking
out.\\
        //Freaking out?\\ she repeated with a feather-light chuckle.
He grinned unabashedly at her, his mind aglow with affection and
understanding.
        //Got a better description for it?\\ His eyes were sparkling
like emeralds in the sunlight as he prepared for her response.
        //Not really, but...\\ She was interrupted before she could
finish the thought.
        "Mage Mulder," Shannon called out insistently, her long
black braid flying out behind her as she deftly raced her horse up
besides them. Jhorgab followed close behind his new compatriot, his
green-skinned face bright with anticipation.
        "Mage Mulder," she said breathlessly. "Is it time for my
lesson yet? I said Jhorg could watch, if that's OK."
        "I will be no trouble or disturbance at all," the troll said
expansively. "I will watch silently, and stay well out of the way. But I
am quite fascinated by magic. It is very rare among trolls, so we do
not get much opportunity to study it in action..."
        "Be quiet, Jhorg," Shannon told him, with a quick, impatient
glance over her shoulder. Even as he sputtered a suitably long-winded
apology, she was turning back to Mulder. "Please, Taabsut Mulder. I
want to try that levitation thingy again."
        Mulder and Scully shared a quick glance of amusement, then
Mulder looked gravely at young pupil. "All right, Shannon. But
before we try the more complicated spell, I think it would be a good
idea to do some more work on your shielding. It's still less stable than
I'd like."
        "Oh, do we have to?" Shannon came just short of whining.
She hated these exercises, they always gave her a massive headache
without any sensation of accomplishing anything. But Mulder simply
stared firmly at her. "Oh all right," she muttered.
        "Good," he smiled at her. "Now don't forget..."
        "To ground and center. I know." Closing her eyes, she
repeated the now familiar steps. The electric tingle she now
recognized as magical energy was recalcitrant, but she was able to
seize hold of it and push. Down towards the ground she urged it,
feeling the earth as a firm anchor beneath her, then she reached inside
and tried to calm herself. That was always the hardest part, trying to
keep her excitement and anticipation from disrupting her control. But
more than once she'd learned the hard way that she was in for a literal
shock if she didn't.
        Control was a Mage's watchword, and she had learned to
appreciate the need. So she fought for and gained peace at the center
of herself, then slowly opened her eyes and nodded towards Mulder
to signify that she was ready.
        "Good," he told her. "Now, slowly, lift your shield." She had
come to see this, almost visually, as a shimmering blue curtain of light
between her and the rest of the world. If she squinched her eyes just
right, she could almost see it coat her skin in an azure glow. Mulder's
was much clearer, she didn't doubt that if he wished it, anyone, even
the most magic-blinded troll could see it clearly. Hers was a pale, faint
mist, swirling around the edges of her vision.
        "That's it," Mulder told her approvingly. "Better."
        Shannon smiled, the expression just short of being a grimace.
It was hard to maintain this for long, but it was easier than it had been
the day before. She held onto the shield tight, preparing for Mulder's
push. His energy swelled, and she could feel it sing, calling out to her
own. Even before he began to probe at her shield, she could feel the
aftershock of his power. It was demanding, fiery, ready to rage at the
slightest slip of his control. But he wielded it like a fine instrument,
sending only the slightest jolt to brush against her shield.
        Her entire body shook in the saddle, startling her horse, and
the animal almost bolted. Her concentration slipped as she grabbed
for the reins, and her own aura flared out of control.
        "Shannon!" Mulder called out, dampening down on the
power with a quickly recited chant.
        "I'm sorry," she said when she finally had the horse soothed
down.
        "It's all right," he replied. "We shouldn't be doing this under
these conditions anyway. Perhaps we should wait until we camp for
the night."
        "No, I'll be okay," Shannon argued, but it was easy to tell his
mind was already settled.
        She glanced over to Scully, but the older woman gave her a
quick shake of her head. "Mulder's right, Shannon. It won't be long
now."
        "What happened?" Jhorgab finally interrupted, bouncing in
his saddle with barely repressed frustration. "I didn't see anything! Did
you use magic, Shannon?"
        "Well, sort of," Shannon replied with a sigh. "But it didn't
quite work right."
        "What was it supposed to do?" Jhorgab demanded with
irrepressible curiosity. Mulder and Scully exchanged glances of
amusement as Shannon attempted to explain, her words constantly
interrupted by new questions from her friend. The two adults nudged
their horses ahead, sharing a smile as Shannon's voice rang out in
frustration.
        "You could let me finish a sentence once in a while, you
know?"

                                        - - - - -

        They camped in a small clearing beside a rocky stream. The
water was clear and fresh, and the trolls were quick to harvest the
silver-scaled fish that swam swiftly through the shallow rapids. Soon
the campfires were lit, and the evening meal under way within a
closed circle of wagons. Due to the previous attack, the guard was
doubled, and the sentries stood at sharper alert. Every sound that
trickled in from the surrounding countryside was suspect, but nothing
came out of the night.
        Within the center of the camp, Mulder and Scully chatted
quietly with Krolgar while Jhorgab and Shannon joined four other
trolls for an exuberant game of cards. From a distance it reminded
Mulder some of poker, though the rules appeared to be much more
intricate. Though that could be less the rules and more Jhorgab's
inability to say in one sentence what he could in four. Mulder
chuckled under his breath, then turned his attention back to Scully as
she bent her ear to Krolgar.
        Mulder registered the conversation, mostly focused on
Krolgar's travels in the northern part of the Realm, with one part of
his brain, while the rest focused on trying to solve the riddle of
Reinald's ancient scrolls. The script was still indecipherable for the
most part, though he had made some progress with the archaic Old
Realm preamble. But even so, he was certain that he was missing an
important key.
        A sudden gust of wind sent a chill down Mulder's back.
Tensing, he turned just in time to see the campfire roar with the
breeze, sending a shower of sparks into the air. His stomach hit his
pelvis hard, as his skin prickled with goosebumps. He was already on
his feet when the wind shifted direction, sweeping through the fire and
throwing long fingers of flame in his direction.
        "Scully!" he shouted out, panic racing along every nerve in
his body. At his warning, Scully and Krolgar leapt to their feet, barely
getting out of the way of the fire as it began to rage out of control.
Sparks flew in every direction, batted around by swirling gusts of
suddenly heated air, landing on grass and clothing and skin, bursting
into open flames.
        Mulder raised his hands, the power surging within him, only
to be confronted by a blossoming flower of fire. The heat singed his
throat, burning at his eyes, and he froze with fear.
        "Noooo," he moaned, shrinking away, yet unable to move
his feet. Scully grabbed his arm in an attempt to draw him back to
safer ground, but he was rooted to the spot.
        "Mulder!" she shouted, and then again.
        //MULDER!!!\\
        He didn't respond. His eyes dilated, tears dripping unheeded
in a physiological attempt to protect the sensitive organs from the
searing air. He was shell-shocked with horror, unable to respond,
even as the fire blazed in his direction like a living thing.
        //MULDER!!!\\ Scully tried again. "Damn it, Mulder, snap
out of it!" She grabbed him and shoved as hard as she could. He
stumbled, then crumbled to the ground. The shock of impact brought
him out of his panic, and his eyes focused on her face. Her hair
glowed around her face, reflecting the firelight. Her eyes, like
crystalline sky, fixed on his and drew him into her.
        //Mulder, listen to me. I know you're afraid, but you *can*
handle this. You've done so before. I'm with you. Take my hand,
Mulder, take my hand.\\
        His eyes, as open as those of a startled deer, slid down to her
outstretched hand, and trembling, he reached for it. Their fingers
brushed, then clung, her touch invigorating him. He got to his feet
quickly, then ducked aside to avoid another shower of glittering
sparks.
        "Come on!" he cried, drawing her after him as he ran away
from the inferno that threatened to engulf the entire camp. Only when
he was certain that Scully was safe, did he turn back towards the fire.
His jaw worked hard, while his features tightened into chiseled
marble. Without releasing Scully's hand, he lifted his free hand and
pointed it towards the unruly blaze.
        "STOP!" he commanded.
        The fire sputtered, almost seeming to swerve away from him.
He stretched his spine fully, reaching his hand towards the sky.
"STOP!" he demanded again, and this time he was answered by the
thunderclap. A great darkness obscured the moons and stars,
centering above their camp, and then with a bright flare of lightening,
followed by a near-deafening thunderclap, the skies opened and
buckets of rain flowed downward onto the raging fire.
        The elements clashed to the symphony of the storm until the
fire gave way and died. The rain fell in a closed circle upon the freshly
charred ground turning ashes to mud. The water pooled in a tiny area,
as though held in place by an invisible barrier, until with one last roar
of thunder, the rain ceased and the flood ran loose from the center of
the camp.

                                        - - - - -

        She felt the impact of the rainstorm, the power surging back
towards her, sending electric tingles up her arms. She gasped and
released her hold on the inky sphere, yanking shut her connection
with the events playing themselves out in a distant part of the Realm.
So close! She'd almost had him. It had not been easy to discern his
fear of fire, so deeply buried was the phobia, but when she'd found it,
she had crowed with delight. So little energy required to send the
campfire blazing out of control, and his reaction had been immensely
satisfying. Such an incredible rush of fear and horror.
        And then, suddenly, it had disappeared. Something had
blocked her out, shutting off the feed of black energy from his mind to
hers. The shutdown had happened so quickly, his power had surged
so strongly, that she couldn't even determine what the cause of the
interference had been. One moment she had been drinking in his
strength, the next she had been left reeling, her mind nearly shattered
by the wave of pure clean energy.
        When she had recovered enough to voice an audible
response, she screamed viciously. Her red-nailed hand swept out,
tossing objects at random, forcing goblets and books to scatter across
the stone floor. She pulled herself back up to the boiling blackened
crystal and reached for it with still-shaking hands. This shouldn't have
happened, and she needed to know how he had been able to break her
hold upon him. This would obviously require more time and
preparation than she had anticipated. Perhaps a more subtle approach
would be required until she knew more.
        Her eyes sparkled, joylessly, as she began to consider
possibilities. This might not be as rewarding as open bloodshed, but
there was a certain pleasure in watching her inferiors scurry in
response to events they did not understand

                                        - - - - -

        They were lucky the damage wasn't more severe. There
hadn't been much rain recently in this part of the Realm and if Mulder
had not called down the storm, the fire could have destroyed far more
than the caravan itself. The damage was still severe enough to require
a long night of hard work from the trolls and their human
companions. Scully and Gyruth were relieved to find that none of the
burns were severe enough to be life-threatening, but they were soon
exhausted by the need to soothe the pain and fear of those who had
been scorched by the runaway flame.
        Mulder, for his part, was still shaken by his experience. He'd
thought he'd managed to overcome the worst of his phobia during
that long-ago case in Boston. Obviously he hadn't. He watched the
trolls scurrying around to check the amount of damage to their wares
and belongings, castigating himself quite thoroughly for not
responding as quickly or as effectively as he should have. What's the
use of having immense power, if you can't manage to use it properly
when needed?
        Shannon came up beside him, but didn't bother to speak. It
hadn't been difficult to sense the torment he was suffering, Mulder
had a way of holding himself when he was in pain that spoke volumes.
He looked distant, his eyes focused inward, not with the joyful sparkle
that lit them when he was conversing with Scully, but instead with a
somber darkness that seemed impenetrable. She waited with him for a
while, hoping he would snap out of it. Scully was nearby, as she had
to be, but was lost in a healer's trance, unable to offer her bondmate
the comfort he needed. Or the kick in the butt.
        So it was left to her to do it, Shannon decided. Goodness
knows she owed her guardian a lot. Just when she thought she'd lost
everything, he'd taken her into his heart and given her a home. So
there was no way she was going to let him stand there and beat
himself up because he'd panicked briefly in a difficult situation.
        "Mulder?" she called out, tugging at his arm. He didn't
respond, still staring off into space.
        "Mulder!" she grabbed him and yanked hard. He trembled,
then finally turned to look at her.
        His expression was smooth, the anguish showing only in his
too open eyes and the lines etched around him mouth.
        "It's not your fault," she insisted.
        "I should have..."
        "You were frightened. So what? We all get that way
sometimes, and besides, you stopped the fire.
        "It almost stopped me."
        "You're afraid of it."
        He chuckled harshly. "I'm terrified of it."
        "But you beat it!" she insisted.
        "Did I?" He shook his head.
        "Yes! Mulder, listen to me. We're all scared of something,
most of us are scared of everything. Don't beat yourself up about it.
Aldara says that understanding and accepting your fear is a necessary
part of life."
        Mulder shook his head, having trouble imagining the vibrant
little warrior being frightened of anything. Except....
        He turned and looked at Shannon. She smiled and touched
his arm reassuringly. "It's okay to be afraid. Just don't let it get the
better of you. And don't you dare beat yourself up." She glanced
pointedly towards Scully bent over one of the burnt trolls.
        Mulder followed his ward's amber gaze, unable to stop the
corners of his mouth tilting upward at the sight. "Scully'd be furious
with me."
        "Yes, and I for one don't want to be around if she is,"
Shannon replied ruefully.
        Mulder couldn't help it, he starting chucking. Shannon
grinned at him. "Feeling better?"
        Shaking himself like a wet dog, he rolled his shoulders back,
releasing some of the heavy weight of tension. "I guess so. Thanks,"
he said sincerely.
        Shannon smiled. "I figure I owe you one. Besides, I've got
an ulterior motive. A couple of the wagons are a bit mired in mud
because of the storm and Krolgar wants everyone to help dig them
out. You made it rain - you get to deal with the mud!" Winking at
him, she walked away.
        Mulder groaned aloud, swept the damp hair out of his eyes,
and with one last glance at Scully, turned and followed.

                                        - - - - -

        They were cursed. There could be no question about it. The
morning after the fire had dawned bright and pleasant, and they had
set off again with relieved spirits. The light mood had not lasted long.
By midday, they'd already had to deal with one broken wheel, one
overturned wagon, lame animals, a seemingly endless expanse of
potholes in the road, and a spotty drizzle that sent chills down their
spines. Above them, the sun continued to shine as though it was
mocking them, and Krolgar took to shaking his fist at it in frustrated
anger.
        "It won't help," Mulder observed wryly as he rode up beside
the heavy-set troll merchant.
        "Maybe, but it makes *me* feel better. H'Portil'see curse this
road. It's been one problem after another. I'm almost afraid to see
what is around the next bend." Krolgar sighed expansively.
        "I know," Mulder had to agree. Glancing behind him to
check on Scully, deep in conversation with Shannon and Jhorgab, he
rubbed at his chin. "It does have me worried. I don't like having quite
so many accidents happen so close together. I suppose it could just be
a run of bad luck, but I've never been a believer in coincidences."
        Krolgar gave him a sharp look. "Do you think...?"
        Mulder shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I can't discern
any significant trace of magic, but it wouldn't take anything too
complicated to cause these kinds of troubles. And I haven't done a
thorough search either. I've just been keeping my senses open for
anything out of the ordinary." He gazed around him steadily. "So far,
nothing..."
        Krolgar frowned, his thick-browed face settling into a
menacing scowl. "It might, perhaps, be wise for you to do that search.
If we are carrying some kind of curse, it will not do to let it sit upon
us. Already we have come close to disaster twice. We cannot take any
more chances."
        Mulder nodded. "I'll do it when we stop for lunch," he
glanced up at the sky, "which should be soon. It'll be easier to focus if
we aren't moving."
        "Good," Krolgar agreed. "Thank you, Mage Mulder."

                                        - - - - -

        Scully watched anxiously as Mulder walked from wagon to
wagon, lighting up each in a pale azure glow, then moving on to the
next, his face darkened in concentration. She could feel the drain on
his strength, and she wished she had more to give him. But she too
was worn out from the needs of this journey, and could only watch
and wait for him to finish.
        When he was done, he returned to her side, slowly shaking
his head.
        "What is it?" she asked.
        "There's nothing, and yet...." He sat down wearily, and she
reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He leaned back
against her and she cradled him gently.
        "I think there's something there, but it's not a specific spell.
Most curses of this kind would have a focus, an object or a person
onto which the disruptive magic has been grafted. I didn't find
anything of the sort. But over everything I did find a slight 'whiff' of
magic, very unpleasant magic. The problem is that the 'smell' of this is
very familiar - it's been the same for the past couple of weeks. A sense
that 'something wicked this way came.'"
        "You think this could be cause of all the recent trouble, like
in Fawnleaf and Coldshores?"
        He bit at his lower lip, then angled his head around to meet
her eyes. "I think that's a safe assumption, but it doesn't really tell us
much. Or give us a solution for dealing with it. I've put a protective
spell on the caravan as best I can, but without something in particular
to guard against, the spell becomes so general that it looses it's
oomph."
        "Oomph?" She question with a teasing smile.
        He made a face at her, then suddenly relaxed. "Yeah, its
'oomph.' But it will have to do."
        "You've done the best you can, and we're doing all right.
Krolgar says we should make Dreegan by nightfall without too much
trouble, even at our present rate."
        Mulder reached around to pull her into his lap. She settled
there happily, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I hope so. I
miss even the relative privacy of an inn." He managed a sly grin.
        She laughed, leaning forward to press her forehead to his.
"Me too."

                                        - - - - -

        The first couple of candlemarks past the lunch break went
smoothly enough that Mulder began to relax. Perhaps that protective
spell had done it's job after all...
        << ROAR>>
        "What the hell was that?" Mulder desperately tried to rein in
his startled horse. Shouts rang out throughout the caravan, mixed
with a symphony of unearthly howls. Scully and Shannon had their
swords out before Mulder even turned to look at them. He reached
for his own, drawing it out of its scabbard just barely in time to bring
it to bear between him and the animal as it launched itself in his
direction. He caught only the bright orange gleam of its eyes, and a
glimpse of long ivory fangs, before the impact of close to two
hundred pounds of muscle and bone slammed into the flat of his
blade. His horse whinnied in terror, leaping sideways, while Mulder
twisted in his saddle, desperately trying to bring the sword around.
        The giant cat snarled as it hit the ground, deprived for the
moment of its prey. Mulder couldn't take his eyes off it, even to
search for Scully. He could feel her presence in the back of his mind,
focused, clear, icy, as she threw herself into the battle with
characteristic determination. His muscles burning, he knew that quick
touch of her would have to be enough, for as the huge animal
hunched its powerful shoulders in preparation for another assault, he
had his hands full enough.
        He nearly lost the horse in the next attack, but he managed
to score first blood. Even so, he tumbled to the ground, his terror
stricken steed bolting down the road, blood dripping from claw marks
in its side and belly. Mulder rolled a complete somersault, barely
managing to keep from skewering himself on his own sword, but
finally managed to come upright still intact. The cape swirled around
his legs, and he considered trying to rid himself of the annoying
garment. But the hungry cat didn't give him the chance. Snarling, it
paced towards him, rising up on its mighty hindquarters to bat its
massive front leg at him, the claws distended. Swiftly, he darted aside,
swinging the sword around to stab it in the side. It howled in rage,
turning its enormous head in his direction. Its eyes blazed at him,
drawing back an inch in preparation for another attack. Mulder drew
in a deep gulp of air, desperately oxygenating his muscles for the fight
ahead.
        With a low growl it sprung at him, straight at the silver of his
sword as he sliced it through the air. It struck hard on one of the
distended fangs, striking enamel with a loud clank that reverberated
up his arms and shoulders. He pulled back, the cat pressed in, and he
found himself pressed back against one of the wagons.
        It tossed its head side-to-side before attacking again, giving
him just enough time to lift the sword. It leapt towards him, he slid
sideways, bringing the sword down towards its eyes. In the same
instant, the point of his blade cut deeply into the animal's right eye and
its claws raked across his left arm. Both screamed out in pain, Mulder
falling backwards onto the ground, the cat rearing up, howling its
agony at the sky.
        Gore dripped from its face as it hovered over him, the stench
of its breath catching at his lungs. For one terrible moment, he
thought he was dead, his eyes drawn helplessly to those foot-long
fangs as they aimed for his chest. In that instant, his mind called out
for Scully, sending a waterfall of emotion down their link, and as
though in answer, a surge of energy flowed back through him, blue
sparks shimmering on the bloody silver of his blade. With a desperate
effort, he brought the sword up between them and struck out just
before the cat could tear into his chest. He struck it hard just below
the jaw, and the swirling Mage-power focused up through his arms,
through the sword, and into the giant animal. It shook, convulsing,
screaming, as though it had been struck by a massive bolt of lightning.
        Finally, it collapsed half on top of him, its huge head lolling
across his chest. Mulder tensed, but it did not move, except for the
slightest tremble. His sword was still embedded in its chest, and it
took all of his remaining physical strength to yank it free. Sliding the
weapon off to the side, he wriggled himself free of the massive body
of the animal, staggering as he tried to get back to his feet, his eyes
darting anxiously around to assess the situation.
        "Mulder!" Shannon cried out his name, and he turned and
ran in her direction. She and Jhorgab were fending off another of the
huge beasts, the tiny troll darting in and out, barely missing being
swallowed practically whole by the snarling mouth. Shannon fought
fiercely, wielding her sword as though it was an extension of her flesh.
But they were still hard-pressed against the hungry, enraged beast,
and Mulder didn't even bother recovering his abandoned sword.
Drawing in a deep breath, he began a careful chant, drawing on the
tattered remnants of his strength to cast the spell. Blue fire aced from
his fingertips, striking the cat, and freezing it in place.
        Shannon stabbed it once more, then jerked backwards as the
spell reached out for her. Jhorgab grabbed her and pulled her away,
leaving her sword suspended in the air, the point barely touching the
coat of the bespelled animal.
        "Are you all right?" Mulder managed to ask, though his skin
had bleached pale.
        She nodded weakly, as Jhorgab helped her over to him. Even
as he reached out to wrap his arms around the shaky girl, his mind
was ranging outwards, seeking for his bondmate. He *knew* she was
not badly injured or dead, because he'd have sensed that instantly. But
he could tell she was outside the comfortable range of their lifebond -
his stomach was already revolting at her absence, his head was
beginning to ache. Emotion pooled within him, the frustration of her
absence scratching at his nerves. Of course, some of the ill feeling was
caused by the too-close-call he'd just been through, but he was far too
familiar with the "distance-sickness" not to recognize the symptoms.
        //SCULLY!!\ he cried out along the length of their bond, and
his entire body trembled with relief when she responded with a flood
of emotion, mostly a mirror to his own relief, colored by sadness and
grief.
        //Mulder,\\ she replied. // Krolgar and his two sons are all
right, but Gyruth is badly injured. I'm going to have to stay with him.\\
        Her mind voice was filled with sorrow and regret, colored by
her own irritable response to their separation. He could feel her
temper straining against her self-control, and he responded with silent
understanding.
        //Where are you? I'll come to you.\\
        Her relief and gratitude washed over him, followed by a
curling edge of fear. //Is it over?\\
        //I think so,\\ he replied, stretching out his mind, even as he
used his eyes to survey the situation.  There were a couple more dead
cats, and three of four trolls laying mangled on the ground. He felt
sorrow and rage swell within him, forcing the sky above to darken
ominously. Closing his eyes, he brought himself back under control,
then reached out silently, reassuringly, to Scully, even as he began to
walk quickly towards her, barely restraining the desire to run
heedlessly.
        //Yes, it's over...\\ For now, he added silently, keeping the
thought to himself.

                                        - - - - -

        They limped into Dreegan that night, the weary travelers
guiding exhausted horses, the wagons burdened as much with the
wounded as with the wares for sale. The worst was the knowledge
that they were now carrying three dead bodies as well. Gyruth had not
survived despite Scully's best efforts, and two of the troll guards had
gone down as well. They had dealt with death before, even with
senseless deaths, but still, the suddenness of the attacks and the horror
of the result had shaken all of the travelers to the core.
        When they reached the closest inn, Krolgar had hardly
argued with the innkeeper, settling for a price that was almost
certainly too high, yet unimportant to the weary trolls and their human
companions. The chores of settling wares, wagons, and horses down
for the night were done quickly, efficiently and silently. Little effort
for conversation was spared over the welcome hot meal, and no one
lingered in the busy dining room, all filtering up to their rooms as
soon as their hunger was satisfied.
        The next morning was spent dealing with the wounded and
the dead, arranging for the bodies to be placed in stasis until they
could be returned to their families, and repairing damage to the
wooden vehicles. Mulder did all that he could to help, finding his
strength tasked less by the magic expenditures as by Scully's absence.
She felt bound to offer whatever help and assistance she could to the
village healer, suddenly overrun by the number of wounded trolls.
They had not wanted to separate, and had felt the effects quickly. By
noon, both were irritable, trembling with undirected edginess and
nausea, heads aching, hands shaky.
        Gesturing to the human healer that she was leaving,
unwilling to attempt even to speak for fear she would offend someone
unnecessarily, Scully escaped into the bright sunshine and went in
search of her bondmate. As disturbed as she, Mulder met her in the
courtyard of the inn, simply opening up his arms for her to bury
herself within.
        God, he felt *so good*, she thought breathlessly, her entire
body coming alert as he enclosed her in his embrace. He smelled of
horses, sweat and dirt, and yet, it was the most wonderful smell in the
world. She could feel his heart beating beneath her cheek, and she
nuzzled in closer, treasuring the sensation of his woolen cloak
abrading the skin of her face. All of the tension, the helpless anger and
frustration, the weakness fled, leaving her bathed in a soothing
warmth, both physical and mental.
        //I missed you,\\ he whispered into her mind.
        //I love you,\\ she returned, shifting slightly against his body
so that she could close her arms around his shoulders. //We can't do
this anymore,\\ she continued, tilting her head up so that she could
look into his eyes. Those keen hazel orbs were filled with a sweet
passion, reflecting her image back at her. //Not until we find Hannu
and he can tell us what's happening.\\
        //I know,\\ he answered wryly, leaning down to brush her
forehead with his lips, the tender contact sending electric shivers
across her scalp. //I nearly broke a few things this morning instead of
fixing them. And I may not have done these people's opinion of
Mages much good. I came within inches of singeing a couple of
stableboys.\\
        //Not good, Mulder.\\ She thought, even as she gazed at his
mouth with hungry appreciation.
        //Yeah, I should apologize....\\
        //Later,\\ she replied, digging her fingers into his hair to draw
him to her for a long-awaited kiss.
        "Mage Mulder, Warrior-Healer Scully!" An insistent voice
interrupted.
        They clung for a breath longer, praying the intruder would
go away, but he did not. Instead, a small hand grabbed hold of
Mulder's arm and tugged. "Mage Mulder, I am so terribly sorry to
interrupt you at this moment, but my uncle wishes to see you right
away. I would not have disturbed you, but he is quite insistent that
you come now. He is in a terrible mood, I am afraid, and I am sorry to
subject you to him. But do not worry, while he yells a lot - in fact he
yells *quite* a lot - he would never really hurt anyone. He just likes to
be loud..."
        "Jhorgab!!!" Mulder reluctantly released his hold on Scully,
unobtrusively sliding his hand down to close upon hers. She squeezed
his fingers, turning to lean the back of her head against his chest.
        Jhorgab blinked, then bobbed his head at them. "Ahhh, then,
you are ready now to come, yes?"
        "Yes Jhorgab," Scully replied with amusement. "Lead on..."

                                              - - -

        Krolgar was indeed yelling when Jhorgab found him in the
inn's busy main room. Mulder and Scully took the chairs Jhorgab
offered, sitting down to wait while the elder troll finished castigating
one of his assistants. While they were waiting, Shannon wandered
over, her face flushed with exertion. Mulder got up and dragged over
a chair for her, which she accepted gratefully. All three sat quietly,
happy to have a few moments to relax.
        Finally Krolgar was finished, and he turned to glower at
Jhorgab who was standing beside him, an anxious look on his flat,
bushy-browed face.
        "What is it, youngling?"
        "You wanted to see Mage Mulder," Jhorgab announced.
Krolgar growled, but nodded, settling his massive body down in a
chair that creaked beneath his weight.
        "Ahhh, so I did." He grabbed a big tanker of ale and took a
large gulp, then slammed it back down on the table, the contents
sloshing dangerously. Ignoring the film of foam around his mouth, the
troll merchant nodded seriously at the two humans.
        "Thank you for coming, Mage, Warrior. I am afraid that I
must tell you that we will be staying on here for at least a week. We
are short on supplies, and as you probably know, Mage Mulder, we
will require some extensive repairs. Several of my people are seriously
wounded, and I may need to hire replacements and additional guards.
So we will need to do the rest of our trading here, and then we will be
turning back. The times have become suddenly dangerous for
merchants such as myself. Never in my life have I had such a difficult
journey." He shook his head. "I do not know what the Realm is
coming to!"
        "I'm sorry," Mulder offered exchanging a glance with Scully.
"I'm sure King Andalor's doing everything he can to solve the
problems. In the meantime, I hope we have managed to be of some
help to you."
        "Oh you have. Indeed," Krolgar hurried to reassure him.
"We could not have made it this far without your able assistance. But
I am afraid that we will not be going any further south. I know you
are headed towards Goodearth Caverns, but we will not be able to
take you there ourselves." He frowned massively. "A shame, the
gargoyles are quite profitable trading partners."
        Mulder and Scully exchanged glances, then Mulder nodded
solemnly. "I understand completely, Krolgar. And while we'll miss
your company greatly, we cannot afford to wait here much longer.
We were hoping to head out at first light tomorrow."
        "We will miss you as well, Mage, lady warriors, you have
been fine companions to us on our long journey. I hope the rest of
your way will be far more peaceful than ours has been."
        "I hope you have an easier journey home, Krolgar," Scully
responded with formal politeness.
        "Thank you dear lady," he replied, gazing at her fondly. For
a human female, she was surprisingly both attractive and sensible. Of
the three humans, he would definitely miss her the most. He smiled
broadly at her. "And again, my gratitude for all you have done to help
heal my people. It is much appreciated."
        "I wish there had been more I could do," she said sadly,
thinking of the bright, good-humored troll healer who had died
painfully in her arms. If only she had had access to better medical
facilities.
        "You did all that could be done," Krolgar told her. "Do not
sorrow over what you cannot change. Gyruth's soul is now a part of
the universe, at one with the gods."
        Scully simply nodded, holding tight to Mulder's hand under
the table. He was a comforting presence, unwavering love and
support flowing down through the lifebond. She gave him a smile,
then turned her attention back to Krolgar who had moved on to more
practical manners.
        "You will need to resupply yourselves here, and you might
want to seek out some guidance as to the best route to take. Since
you will be a small party on horseback, you might be able to shorten
the journey by using less-traveled roads."
        "That sounds like a good idea. Any assistance you can give
us in choosing a route will be appreciated," Mulder replied.
        "I can help you!" Jhorgab cried out, his eyebrows twitching
with enthusiasm. "Why, I've studied the roads and ways of the Realm
in great detail. It was always my favorite subject. I can show you the
best way to Goodearth caverns from here, and I can help you trade
for the right supplies. I know I am young, but I could be of much
assistance to you in your journey, Mage Mulder..." He was so excited
that he was unable to continue speaking, bouncing up and down on
his short stubby legs.
        "Jhorgab..." Krolgar began to admonish him, but Shannon
jumped in to support her friend. "I think that's a wonderful idea!" She
turned to Mulder and Scully. "Oh please, let Jhorg come with us!
He'd be lots of help, and he does know the paths very well. He's told
me lots of stuff about the southern parts of the Realm already. I'm
sure he wouldn't be any trouble, and it would help us to have a
guide."
        Scully sighed and turned to the still bobbing young troll. "I
thought this was your first journey away from home."
        Never at a loss for words long, Jhorgab responded excitedly,
"Yes, that is very true. But I have memorized all of the maps, and I
have listened many times to stories from those of my family who have
traveled far and wide. My brother has told me often of his first visit to
Goodearth, and I can remember every word of it. I can tell you..."
        "Ahh, I'm sure you could," Mulder interrupted quickly. He
glanced at Krolgar. "What do you think of this Krolgar? We may run
into more danger along the way, and I would understand if you didn't
want to risk your nephew's safety."
        Krolgar frowned mightily, his eyebrows forming one long
bush across his brow. He looked narrowly at Jhorgab. "I realize,
youngling, that you have long wished to travel, but Mage Mulder's
concerns are worthy of consideration. The dangers we have met so far
are not the only ones that these travelers may yet face. And you will
not have my wisdom and experience to guide you."
        "I know, uncle," Jhorgab replied solemnly, though with a
twinkle in his yellow eyes. "But I am sure that Mage Mulder and these
two fine warriors can shield me from any danger. And I am not a
nestling anymore. I am as grown as you were when you went of your
first great journey. I will not embarrass our clan, uncle." He drew
himself up to his full, unimpressive height, "I promise you I will do
the name of our family proud."
        Krolgar looked steadily at him for a moment, then turned
back to Mulder. "I do not have an objection if you wish Jhorgab to
accompany you."
        Shannon threw Mulder a pleading look, and he couldn't help
smiling. He turned to gaze sternly at Jhorgab. "I can't see any reason
to object, but... Jhorgab, you must realize that we will be traveling as
quickly as possibly, and conditions may not be as comfortable as you
are used to with the caravan."
        "I understand..." Jhorgab replied, secretly exchanging
triumphant glances with Shannon. None of the adults missed the
exchange, but all kept silent.
        Scully sent her amusement privately to Mulder, along with
her concerns. //Do you really think this is a good idea? We have a
tendency to attract trouble, and while I'm sure that Shannon can
handle herself, Jhorgab is awfully young and inexperienced.\\
        //I think he might surprise you,\\ Mulder replied, adding in
the images of the troll youngling assisting Shannon in fighting the
giant panther. //And he does know his geography and his history well.
Since we're strangers here, it certainly couldn't hurt to have a native
along.\\
        //That's true,\\ Scully admitted. She smiled, even as her
mind-voice softened. //He will be good company...if we can ever get
him to shut up!\\
        Mulder's laughter echoed in her mind, even as she realized
that true to his character, Jhorgab was already expositing at length.
        "All right, Jhorgab," she interrupted, her voice rich with
amusement. "You can come with us. We'll have to see about
additional supplies. You do have a horse of your own?"
        "Oh, yes! Greega is mine!" Jhorgab answered brightly,
grinning broadly. "We have trained together since almost before I was
old enough to walk."
        "Which explains why you walk so funny," Shannon teased.

        Jhorgab scowled at her. "Look who's talking, tree-leg!"
        "Tree-stump!" she retorted.
        "Weed-leg!" Jhorgab countered.
        Mulder groaned.

End of Chapter Twelve