“He will if he values your life,” Zuhl said. “If not, then I’ll find a way to take it from him.”
“I doubt it,” Abigail said. “Just for the sake of argument, how is this immortality spell supposed to work?”
“Therein lies the genius,” Zuhl said, sitting back comfortably. “The spell transfers one’s life essence into a phylactery, a specially prepared item designed to store a soul, while animating the now dead body with the person’s awareness, will, and power. Through death, eternal life is found. It’s perfect. Since your body is already dead, it can never be killed. Not only would this spell grant immortality, but near invulnerability as well. It is the god-maker spell that I have been searching for all my life.”
“If Alexander actually has this book, and he has any idea what it does, I guarantee he won’t trade,” Abigail said.
“Perhaps not,” Zuhl said, standing and placing a vial of slightly blue liquid on the table. “This is dragon draught; it will ward you against the cold.”
“What cold?” Abigail asked, suddenly wary.
“We’re leaving Irondale for Whitehall,” Zuhl said. “You’ll ride with me on Izzulft. I assure you, the journey will kill you without the dragon draught.”
Abigail hesitated, looking at the vial, then at Zuhl.
“I can have that rather large man who brought you here make you drink it if you prefer.”
She scowled at him but quaffed the potion with a sigh of resignation. A chill flowed into her, filling her with a coldness that seemed to encompass her entire body, yet without discomfort.
He led her to a battlement where Izzulft was waiting and shackled her to his saddle before mounting up behind her and launching into the cold grey sky.
Chapter 10
“Jack, come quickly,” Chloe said, “he’s starting to wake. I can hear his thoughts again.”
“Go easy, Alexander,” Jack said. “You’ve been through a lot. There’s no rush.”
Their voices sounded far away, muffled. He couldn’t open his eyes but he was starting to see things anyway. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing made any sense. Confusion swirled inside his cottony mind. Consciousness slowly started to take hold, thoughts began to form, pushing aside the gauzy feeling in his head.
He mumbled something unintelligible, then realized his tongue was swollen and dry. Someone drizzled cool water into his mouth. He struggled to swallow, working the muscles of his throat to overcome the scratchy dryness. More water allowed him to swallow, but he choked, coughing weakly until someone helped him sit up.
Images of his surroundings were becoming clearer. He was in a room. It looked familiar. Jack and Chloe were there with him. A small dragon sat at the foot of his bed, resting her chin on the footboard and looking at him with big, golden eyes.
Someone put a cup to his lips. He grabbed it and tried to tip it back, but the hand holding it resisted.
“Slowly,” Jack said. “Drink a little at a time.”
The voice sounded familiar. A small swallow sent him into a coughing fit. As soon as he regained his composure, he reached for the cup again. His vision was sharper now, even though his eyes were still closed.
“All right, Alexander, lie back and try to get some rest,” Jack said. “Now that your fever has broken, you need to sleep.”
He wanted to protest, tried to resist, but the hand gently pushing him back into the bed was too strong for him, and he couldn’t seem to form words. Moments later, he was asleep.
***
Alexander woke feeling groggy and thirsty and hungry. He tried to open his eyes but they were crusted over with dried tears. Carefully, gingerly, he started to rub them clean, but before he could get them open, the room around him came into clear focus. Jack was there, sleeping in a chair next to his bed. Chloe was there as well, sitting on the back of another chair, watching him intently. The dragon was there too, sleeping at the foot of his bed.
He cleared his throat and worked up enough saliva to swallow. Chloe buzzed into a ball of light and floated down in front of his face.
“Can you hear me, My Love?” she asked out loud.
“Chloe, what happened? Where are we?” he mumbled.
“You were stabbed through the leg,” Chloe said.
Jack woke and sat forward.
“My head’s so fuzzy,” Alexander said.
“You’ve been in a delirium for over a week,” Jack said. “Lady Bragador said your wound became infected, causing a fever that nearly killed you.”
“Bragador?” he mumbled. “Dragons … We’re on Tyr.”
“Yes,” Jack said.
“Where’s Isabel?” Alexander asked.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Jack said, after an uncharacteristic hesitation.
Reality slammed back into Alexander. His mind focused as the events leading up to his current predicament played out in his memory. He sat up, ignoring the stab of pain in his leg, and his vision sharpened. He could see more clearly than he’d been able to see since Shivini blinded him. His all around sight was more detailed and vibrant than he remembered it.
“Jack, tell me where Isabel is,” Alexander said.
Jack sighed. “She left. We’re not sure where she went.”
“What?! Why would she leave? How did she leave? We’re on an island!”
“She took the ship,” Jack said, answering the easiest of his questions.
“I don’t understand,” Alexander said. “Isabel wouldn’t leave me like this.”
“She left to protect you, My Love,” Chloe said. “The darkness within her was becoming a danger to you. So she left.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Chloe buzzed into a ball of light and started flying in a circle in front of him.
“Tell me, Little One.”
She stopped and hovered in front of him. “The night you were wounded, you slipped into a fitful and feverish sleep. I woke to find Isabel standing over you with a knife in her hand, poised to strike. Her eyes were vacant and empty, like she wasn’t really there, wasn’t in control of herself. I cried out for her to stop and she came to her senses. When she realized what she was about to do, she became distraught, frantic. She looked so afraid, My Love. She left that night, saying she couldn’t be trusted anymore by those she loved.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?!” Alexander demanded.
“How? I’m three inches tall,” Chloe shot back. “Besides, I didn’t want to stop her. She’d become a threat to your life, and I knew you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to admit it. We both love you, Alexander. And we both did what we must to protect you. She left and I let her go. What’s more, I’m proud of her for what she did. Leaving you hurt her, but she did it anyway because staying would have hurt you.”
Alexander started to get up, but the stabbing pain in his leg stopped him cold. He gasped at the sudden intensity of it, breathing in short, quick breaths for a moment while he regained his senses. The wound was bad. He wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
“Take it easy, Alexander,” Jack said. “You’ll tear your wound open.”
“I’m sorry, Little One,” Alexander said, through the pain. “I didn’t mean to blame you.”
“I know, My Love,” Chloe said. “Isabel will come back to you. I know it in my heart.”
“I hope you’re right, Little One.”
Anja sat up and put her head on the footboard, her tail flicking about excitedly.
Alexander looked at the baby dragon, so gangly and uncoordinated, yet beautiful, a promise of power to come.
“Anja? Is that you?” he asked.
She nodded enthusiastically, her tail flicking back and forth.
“She hasn’t left your side, except to feed,” Jack said, “and then only at her mother’s insistence.”
His senses finally intact, Alexander surveyed his surroundings. He was lying in a bed in his Wizard’s Den. Hector and Horace were both there, silently watching over him, one guarding the door, the other sitting at the table. Outside the door was the cavern where he’d fought the pirates, recovered the Tyr Thinblade, saved Anja, and been stabbed through the leg by a wraithkin’s dagger.