Beyblade Fan Fiction ❯ Amulet of Life ❯ Not That Easy ( Chapter 4 )

Okay here's chapter four.

From the security of the air vent, I peered out with my multifaceted eyes into a rather traditional drawing room. There was a thick pile carpet, striped wall paper, a crystal chandelier, two oil paintings that were dark with age, a sofa and two easy chairs (also striped), a low coffee table laden with a silver tray, and, on the tray, a bottle of red wine and no glasses. The glasses were in the hands of two people.

One of them was a woman. She was youngish (for a human, that means infinitesimally young) and probably good-looking in a fleshy sort of way. Dark eyes, dark hair and very straight. I memorized her automatically. I would appear in her guise tomorrow when I went back to that kid. Only naked. Lets see how his very steely but ever so adolescent mind responds to that! (1)

However, for the moment I was more concerned with the man this woman was smiling and nodding at. He was tall, thin, and very handsome, he had his hair gelled out on both sides (which probably used a lot gel don't you think?). He had very nice teeth and a prominent jawbone. Something told me that this was the magician, Tala Ivanov. Was it his indefinable aura of power and authority? Was it the proprietorial way he gestured around the room? Was it the small imp that floated at his shoulder (on the second plane), warily watching about for danger on every side?

I rubbed my front two legs together with irritation. I would have to be very careful. The imp complicated matters. (2)

It was a pity I wasn't a spider. They can sit still for hours and think nothing of it. Flies are far more jittery. If I changed here, the magician's slave would be certain to sense it. I had to force my unwilling body to lurk, and ignore the pain that was building up again, this time inside my chitin.

The magician was listening. He did little else. The woman gazed at him with spaniel eyes so wide and silly with adoration that I wanted to bite her. I mean come on, he wasn't that interesting.

"…It will be the most magnificent occasion, Tala. You will be the toast of London society! Did you know the Prime Minister himself is looking forward to viewing your estate? Yes, all on good authority. My enemies have been hounding him for with their vile insinuations, but he has always remained committed to holding the conference in the hall. So you see my love, I can still influence him when it counts. The thing is to know how to play him, how to flatter his vanity…. Keep it to yourself, but he's actually rather weak. His specialty is charm, and even that he seldom bothers with now. Why should he? He's got men in suits to do it for him…."

The girl rattled on like this for several minutes name-dropping with tireless energy. The woman drank her wine between every sentence she formed; not noticing the magician was not listening. She leaned closer to him along the sofa, and I nearly buzzed with boredom

Suddenly the imp became alert. Its head swiveled 180 degrees and peered at a door at the other end of the room. It tweaked the magician's ear gently in warning. Seconds later, the door opened and a white-jacketed girl with blue hair stepped respectfully in.

"Pardon me, sir, but your car is ready."

Thank you, Damika. We shan't be a moment."

The girl withdrew. The magician replaced his (still full) glass on the coffee table and stood up. The woman latched onto him immediately, kissing him deeply. Behind their backs the imp and I made faces of disgust.

"It pains me to have to leave but duty calls. I will not be home this evening. Damika will drive you home." He said as he pulled away from her.

Man, woman and imp exited, leaving the door ajar. Behind them I crept from my hiding place and sped noiselessly across the room to a vantage point that gave a view of the hall. For a few minutes there was activity, coats brought, orders given, and doors slammed. Then the magician departed his house.

I flew out into the hall. It was wide and cold and had a floor of black and white tiles. Bright green ferns grew from gigantic ceramic pots. I circled the chandelier, listening. It was very quiet. The only sounds came from a distant kitchen and they were innocent enough-just the sound of banging pots and plates and several loud sneezes, presumably emanating from the cook.

I debated sending out a discreet magical pulse to see if I could detect the whereabouts of the magician's artifacts, but decided it was far too risky. The sentry creatures outside might pick it up for one thing, even if there was no further guard. I, the fly, would have to go hunting by myself.

All the planes were clear. I went along the hall, then-following an intuition-up the stairs.

On the landing a thickly carpeted corridor led in two directions, each lined with oil paintings. I was immediately interested in the right-hand passage, for halfway along it was a spy. To human eyes it was a smoke alarm, but on the other planes its true form was revealed: an upside down toad with unpleasantly bulbous eyes sitting on the ceiling. Every minute or so it hopped on the spot, rotating a little. When the magician returned home it would relate to him anything that had happened.

I sent a small magic the toad's way. A thick oil vapor issued from the ceiling and wrapped itself around the spy, obscuring his vision. As it hopped and croaked in confusion, I flew rapidly down the passage to the door at the end. Alone of the doors in the corridor, this did not have a keyhole; under its white paint, the wood was reinforced with strips of metal. Two good reasons for trying this one first.

There was a minute crack under the door. It was too small for an insect, but I was aching for a change anyway. The fly dissolved into a dribble of smoke, which passed out of sight under the door just as the vapor screen surrounding the toad melted away.

In the room I became a child.

If I had known the apprentice's name I would have been malicious and taken his form, just to give Tala Ivanov a head start when he began to piece the theft together. Without his name, I had no handle on him. I became a girl I had known once before, my sister. Her dust had long ago floated down the river, so my crime would not hurt her; anyhow it pleased me to remember her like this. She was light skinned bright eyed, dressed in white silk. She looked around in that way she had, her head slightly cocked to one side.

The room had no windows. There were several cabinets against the walls, filled with magical paraphernalia. Most of it was quite useless, fit only for stage shows, (3) but there were a few intriguing items there.

There was a summoning horn that I knew was genuine, because it made me feel ill to look at it. One blast of that and anything in that magician's power would be at his feet begging to do his bidding. It was a cruel instrument and very old and I couldn't go near it. In another cabinet was an eye made out of clay. I had seen one of them before, in the head of a golem. I wondered if the fool knew the potential of that eye. Almost certainly not-he'd have picked it up as a quaint keepsake on some package holiday in central Europe. Magical tourism… I ask you. Well with luck it might kill him some day.

There was the Amulet of Life. It sat in a small case all of its own, protected by glass and its own reputation. I walked over to it, flicking through the planes, seeking danger and finding-well, nothing explicit, but on the seventh plane I had the distinct impression that something was stirring. Not here, but close by. I had better be quick.

The amulet was small, dull, and made of beaten gold. It hung from a short gold chain. In it's center was an oval piece of jade. The gold had been pressed with simple notched designs depicting running steeds. Horses were the prize possessions of the people from central Asia who had made the Amulet three thousand years before and had later buried it in the tomb of one of their princesses. A Russian archaeologist had found it in the 1950's and before long it had been stolen by magicians who recognized its value. How Tala Ivanov had come by it-who exactly he had murdered or swindled to get it-I had no idea.

I cocked my head again, listening. All was quiet in the house.

I raised my hand over the cabinet, smiling at my own reflection as it clenched its fists.

Then I brought my hand down and drove it through the glass.

A throb of magical energy resounded through all seven planes. I seized the amulet and hung it around my neck. I turned swiftly. The room was as before, but I could sense something on the seventh plane, moving swiftly and coming closer.

The time for stealth was over.

As I ran for the door I noticed a portal suddenly open in midair. Inside the portal was a blackness that was immediately obscured as something stepped out through it.

I charged at the door and hit it with my small girls fists. The smashed open like a bent playing card. I ran past it without stopping.

In the corridor, the toad turned toward me and opened its mouth. A green goblet of slime issued forth, which suddenly accelerated down at me, aiming for my head. I dodged and the slime splattered on the wall behind me, destroying a painting and everything down to the bare bricks beneath it.

I threw a bolt of compression at the toad. With a small croak of regret it imploded into a dense blob of matter the size of matter and dropped to the floor. I didn't break stride. As I ran down the corridor I placed a protective Shield around my physical body in case of further missiles.

Which was a wise move as it happened, because the next instant a detonation struck the floor directly behind me. The impact was so great that I was sent flying headlong at an angle down the corridor and half into the wall. Green flames licked around me, leaving streaks on the décor like the fingers of a giant hand.

I struggled to my feet amid the confusion of shattered bricks and turned around.

Standing over the broken door at the end of the corridor was something that had taken the form of a very tall man with the head of a jackal.

"Madison!"

Another detonation shot down the corridor. I somersaulted under it, aiming for the stairs, and as the green explosion vaporized the corner of the wall, rolled head over heels down the steps, through the banisters and six feet down onto the black and white tiled floor, cracking it quite badly.

I got to my feet and took a look at the front door. Through the frosted glass beside it I could see the hulking yellow outline of one of the three sentries. It was lying in wait, little realizing that it could be seen from inside. I decided to make my exit elsewhere. Thus does intelligence win over brute strength any day of the week!

Speaking of which, I had to get out fast. Noises from above indicated pursuit.

I ran through a couple of rooms-a library, a dining room-each time making a break for the window and each time retreating when one or more of the sentries hovered into view outside. Their foolishness in making themselves so obvious was only equaled by my caution in avoiding whatever magical weapons they carried.

Behind me, my name was being called in a voice of fury. With growing frustration I opened the next room and found myself in the Kitchen. There were no more internal doors, but one led out to what looked like a lean-to greenhouse, filled with herbs and greens. Beyond was the garden-and also the three sentries, who came motoring around the side at surprising speed on their rotating legs. To gain time, I put a seal on the door behind me. Then I looked around and spotted the cook.

She was sitting far back in her chair with her shoes on the kitchen table, a skinny, pretty looking man with blonde hair and a meat cleaver in her hand. She was studiously paring her nails with the cleaver, flicking each fragment of nail expertly through the air to land in the fireplace beside her. As she did so she watched me cautiously with her eyes.

I felt unease. She didn't at all seem at all perturbed to see a small young girl come running into her kitchen. I checked her out on all different planes. On one to six she was exactly the same, a skinny girl in a white apron. On the seventh…

Uh-oh

"Madison"

"Kaitlyn"

"How's it going?"

"Not bad."

"Haven't seen you around"

"No, I guess not."

"Shame, eh?"

"Yes. Well… here I am."

"Here you are indeed"

While this fascinating conversation was going on, the sounds of sustained series of detonations came from the other side of the door. My seal held firm, though. I smiled as urbanely as I could.

"Mailee seems just as excitable as ever."

"Yes, she's just the same. Only I think perhaps slightly more hungry, Madison. That's the only change I've noticed in her. She never seems satisfied, even when she's been fed. That happens all to rarely these days, as you can imagine."

"'Treat `em mean, keep ` em mean"' that's your masters watchword, is it? Still, he must be fairly potent to be able to have you and Mailee as his slaves."

The cook gave a thin smile and with a flick of the knife sent a nail paring spinning straight to the ceiling. It pierced the plaster and lodged there.

"Now, now, Madison, we don't use the s-word in civilized company, do we? Mailee and I are playing the long game."

"Of course you are."

"Speaking of disparities in power, I notice that you avoid addressing me on the seventh plane. This seems a little impolite. Can it be that you are uneasy with my true form?"

"Queasy, Kaitlyn, not uneasy." (4)

Well this is all very pleasant. I admire your choice of form, by the way, Madison. Very comely. I see you are somewhat weighed down by a certain amulet. Perhaps you could be so good as to take it off and put it on the table. Then if you care to tell me which magician you are working for, I might consider ending this meeting in a nonfatal manner."

"That's kind of you, but you know I can't do that." (5)

The cook prodded the edge of the table with his cleaver. "Let me be frank. You can and will. It is nothing personal of course; one day we may work together again. For now I am bound just as you are. I too have my charge to fulfill. It comes, as it always does, to a question of power. Correct me if I am wrong, but I note that you do not have much confidence in yourself today-otherwise you would have left by the front door, quelling the sentries as you went, rather than allowing them to shepherd you around the house to me."

"I was merely following a whim."

"Mmm. Perhaps you would stop edging toward the window, Madison. Such a ploy would be pitifully obvious even to a human (6) and besides; the sentries wait for you there. Hand over the amulet or you will find your ramshackle defense will count for nothing."

She stood up and held out her hand. There was a pause. Behind my seal, Mailee's patient (if unimaginative) detonations still sounded. The door itself must have long since been turned to powder. In the garden the three sentries hovered, all their eyes trained on me. I looked around the room for inspiration.

"The Amulet Madison."

I raised my hand, and with a heavy, rather theatrical sigh, took hold of the Amulet. Then I leaped to my left. At the same time, I released the seal on the door. Kaitlyn gave a tut of annoyance and began a gesture. As she did so she was hit square on by a particularly powerful detonation that came shooting through the empty gap where the seal had been. It sent her backward into the fireplace and the brickwork collapsed upon her.

I smashed my way into the greenhouse just as Mailee stepped through the gap in the kitchen. As Kaitlyn emerged from the rubble, I was breaking out into the garden. The three sentries converged on me, eyes wide and legs rotating. Scything claws appeared at the end of their blobby feet. I cast an illumination of the brightest kind. The whole garden was lit up as if by an exploding sun. The sentry's eyes were dazzled; they were chittering with pain. I leaped over them and ran through the garden, dodging bolts of magic that sprang from the mansion, incinerating trees.

At the far end of the garden between a compost heap and a motorized lawnmower, I vaulted the wall. I tore through the blue latticework of magical nodes, leaving a girl- shaped hole. Instantly alarm bells began ringing all over the grounds.

I hit the pavement outside, the Amulet bouncing and banging on my chest. On the other side of the wall I heard the sound of galloping hooves. It was high time I made a change.

Peregrine falcons are the fastest bird on record. They can attain a speed of two hundred kilometers an hour in diving flight. Rarely has one achieved this horizontally over the roofs of north London. Some would even doubt that this was possible, particularly while carrying a weighty amulet around its neck. Suffice it to say, however, that when Kaitlyn and Mailee landed in the Hampstead backstreet, creating an invisible obstruction that was immediately hit by a speeding moving van; I was nowhere to be seen.

That was by far the longest chapter I've written so far. I tried really hard to keep Tala IC though. Here are the numbered parts.

For those who are wondering, I have no difficulty in becoming a man. Nor for that matter a woman. In some ways I suppose men are trickier, but I won't go into that now. Woman, man, mole, maggot-they're all the same, when alls said and done, except for slight variations in cognitive ability.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't afraid of the imp. I could squash him without a second thought. He was there for two reasons: for his undying loyalty to his master and for his perceptive eye. He would not be taken in by my cunning fly guise for one fraction of a second.

Oh it was all impressive enough if you were a nonmagician. Let me see, there were crystal orbs, scrying glasses, skulls from tombs, saints' knucklebones, spirit sticks that had been looted from Siberian shamans, bottles filled with blood of doubtful provenance, witch-doctor masks, stuffed crocodiles, novelty wands, racks of capes for different ceremonies and many, many weighty book on magic that looked as if they had been bound in human skin at the beginning of time, but had probably been mass-produced last week by a factory in Catford. Magicians love this kind of thing; they love the hocus-pocus mystery of it all (and half believe it, some of them) and they adore the awe-inspiring effect it has on outsiders. Quite apart from anything else, all these knickknacks distract attention from the real source of their power: us.

Personally I'm a great sorceress to look at and Kaitlyn would be too if she didn't have tentacles.

Not strictly correct. I could have given over the Amulet and thus failed my charge. Then, even if I had managed to escape from Kaitlyn, I would have to return empty-handed to the boy. My failure would have left me at his tender mercy, doubly in his power, and somehow I knew this was not a good idea.

Ouch

So don't forget to REVIEW if you like this fic! If you have any questions you can leave them in your review (if you do review) or e-mail them to me at mulherin@nbnet.nb.ca

Bye 4 now!