Chapter Eight
"Goonads’ face was distorted with burn scars from her six-month sanctification,
in which they put the baby into boiling water,
then ice-cold so to assure their tolerance was high enough.
If the child died, it was considered a blessing.
This cruelty was common in her family, as were the scars.
Her body was thin, not slender but gaunt and very unattractive.
She tended not to wash—anything.
This caused her disfigured body to cultivate abscesses like Alentio cultivated corn—
growing all year long and coming to a peak in the summertime …"
--The Pasegean Scrolls
Evading eyes was a high priority for several days after that fateful night.
Syrah was the least affected. Catrin had Jareth for support, and Lokath was had done nothing to offend them.
Alena was the worst off of them all. Syrah gave her the evil eye whenever she walked past; Catrin whispered things about her to the servants, telling them that Alena had "gone mad" and would soon "destroy her kingdom"; Lokath avoided her entirely, and followed Syrah all day long.
But, the worst part for Alena was the looks from Jareth. He would stare at her, apologising for leaving her on the landing that day, yet rebuking her for her behaviour. She felt his eyes burn through her body into her soul, and she knew he did not like what he saw there.
Eventually, after two sevendays, it was Lokath that broke the ice. He called a meeting in the dining hall so to discuss their plans for the future—plans to fully defeat Chail and to reclaim the crown.
Alena arrived first, so bored with having only the servants to talk to (and they thought she was going crazy anyway), and also because she thought she might have a chance to explain herself to Lokath.
Syrah was next, however, she sat in the furthest chair away from Alena and stared at the floor, humming a song Alena had never heard before.
Lokath arrived third, avoided Alena’s eyes and sat behind Syrah, studying the back of her head intently.
Catrin and Jareth arrived together, talking and laughing at some inside joke Alena could not understand or comprehend. They too sat near Syrah, and Alena saw what had happened—she was at one end of the table, alone; whilst the others huddled around each other, the only conflict in their circle between Syrah and Lokath.
"They’re probably all talking about me," Alena thought anxiously. "What did I do? Am I truly more to blame than them? Or are they just condemning my actions because then they don’t have to ponder their own faults? By Elanora, Why?"
Catrin whispered something in Syrah’s ear, who tried to hold back a giggle. Jareth tapped Catrin on the shoulder, reprimanding her. Lokath stared at Syrah’s face as she laughed, and, uncomfortable beneath his gaze, Syrah returned her eyes to the ground.
After several minutes of this, Jareth had had enough. He scowled as Catrin lowered her head and began to talk again, then pulled her back. "Enough!"
Alena’s head snapped to attention when she heard Jareth’s voice. She had not heard it since that day, that fateful day, when she had fought with Catrin. "The day when he came to her rescue," she thought sadly, remembering the way he had come to her rescue when Chunia planned to execute her.
"Look," he said, eyes avoiding Alena’s gaze. "We called this meeting so to discuss the current situation, and to help Syriana regain her crown, did we not?"
Catrin rolled her eyes. "I don’t see why we should help ‘Syriana’, as she has not been very helpful" —glancing at Alena— "or considerate towards us."
Syrah nodded. "Catrin and Jareth are both right. However, first of all, we need to discover where the crown—and the current ruler—are." Syrah looked up at Alena, her eyes soft. Alena gave her a watery smile, and recognised her as a true ally.
Syrah moved her seat closer towards Alena as Lokath began to speak. "Well, I can answer all the questions—to a certain extent. We have a more specific idea of Chunia’s hideaway, and her plans for the continuation of the invasion."
Jareth looked puzzled. "Continuation? But I believed we had already won. Haven’t we?"
Alena shook her head, speaking for the first time. "No. Obviously, Chunia is not one to give up easily. If she was, she would have left the crown behind. Her plans extend far beyond what has already taken place."
Syrah smiled. "Well said, Alena. You are most certainly correct."
Lokath looked away, agreeing with both women, but not certain of what had transpired during the few minutes of the spoken meeting. "Anyway, we have information—provided by a most ingenious spy—about where Chunia is dwelling. Our spy has infiltrated the Chateau of Sonaro."
Jareth gasped. "You mean …"
"Yes. She is residing with Dictator Goonads … her aunt."
Suddenly, Syrah fell from her chair to the ground, flailing wildly. Lokath rushed to her side, thinking the shock had caused a fit. But Syrah only murmured, "I can feel danger. Not here—in … in Alentio," before collapsing from the magical tremors.
The mirror vortex now open, Chunia and Goonads peered inside.
Quadra stood in front of a high stone wall, obviously a kind of town boundary. The general greeted them both coarsely.
Goonads pursed her lips. "Haven’t you started yet?! You will lose the element of surprise!"
Quadra scowled. "Your dictatorship, I do not believe that you are running this army. It is the royal battalion of Chail, and I have been appointed by Her Majesty Queen Chunia to command it. It is my …"
"You dare to address myself in such a manner? I am the ruler of Sonaro!"
Quadra yawned. "And this is a Chailan army. You have no power over us."
Chunia had to hold her aunt back before she jumped into the mirror itself. "Aunt," Chunia began in a soothing voice, "do not worry. We will succeed; no disappointment will befall either land this time."
Her breathing becoming less intense, Goonads calmed, and sat back down on her throne. "But, niece," she started, "I only wish to help you."
Chunia smiled at her. "Of course, dearest aunt." She turned back to the mirror, and commanded Quadra. "Go to, General Quadra—or you shall follow in the footsteps of your primordial commander." Saluting her queen, Quadra called the troops to order.
"Cast the spell," whispered Goonads weakly. "I want to see them die."
Obliging, Chunia adjusted the mirror so that they could both see it when they closed their eyes. "Ready?" she asked her aunt. Goonads nodded, and they both chanted the incantation until they were projected into Alentio itself.
"Yah!" Chunia shouted as she plunged her sword deep inside yet another farmer. Women ran past, screaming for Elanora to save them. They carried their babies, and led young children by the hand.
"I’ll have none of that!" screeched Goonads, and, with a flick of her wrist, the fleeing women and children were turned to ice. Shocked at her aunts merciless acts, Chunia turned away. The day was warm, and Chunia knew the ice would melt soon enough.
The army spread out all around the farmlands, killing anyone and everyone who stood (or did not stand) in their path. Chunia lay down her sword, feeling sick at Goonads’ actions.
Turning, she saw more glistening statues surrounding her, their lives slowly melting away in the afternoon sun. Chunia stared at them, imagining that the trickles of water were actually droplets of blood, coursing their way down the half-dead bodies. It combined with the water, and swam around her boots, making the edges red.
Chunia gagged, and was overcome with nausea. She ran to an alcove of trees, fell to the ground, and vomited. Coughing, she placed her head between her knees, disturbed by the hallucination she’d had. More death was experienced around her, and she looked out on the small farming town.
Most of the buildings had been burnt, and were still alight. Screams sliced through the late afternoon, and, Chunia saw her aunt was one of the main causes of the sounds of terror.
Glancing around the town, the flames were growing; the fire was truly alive. One building was literally glowing with the fire. "Strange," Chunia murmured, before realising that the building wasn’t on fire—it was under a protection spell!
Jumping to her feet, Chunia ran towards it, stumbling. When she reached it, she saw the wedjat above the door. "A magic shop." She spoke with amazement in her voice—surely these country folk wouldn’t approve of magic!
"Aunt!" Chunia called, wanting Goonads to disperse with the protective spell. "Aunt? Quadra?" she cried, realising that all the others had moved on to other parts of the town.
Chunia sat down next to the building and performed the incantation that would reverse the projection spell.
Chunia awoke from the strange trance totally disorientated and feeling rather woozy. As she stood, pink dots flashed before her eyes. "Ohhh," she moaned, and fell back down onto the bed.
"Syrah! Syrah, wake up!"
Jareth shook Syrah, trying to awaken her from the collapse. She groaned as Lokath helped her back into her seat. "I’m fine," she said as they crowded around her like chickens around the feed bucket.
Everyone started to relax again, and the mood in the room shifted from being uncomfortable and uneasy to being slightly calmer. However, they still concentrated their eyes on Syrah, never faltering.
Unnerved by this, Syrah asked: "What?"
In unison, the others said: "Your vision." Then, staring at each other, also began to laugh. Jareth decided to take control of the situation.
"In your vision … you do remember your vision, don’t you?" he asked worriedly. Syrah nodded, and Jareth gave a sigh of relief. "Right. Well, you see, we—we want to know about Alentio!"
A disconcerted look came over Syrah’s face. "Oh. I see."
Again they stared at her, willing her to continue. When she didn’t, they looked surprised. "Well?"
Syrah’s face went pale. "You really don’t want to know—especially you, Jareth. It could—well, let’s just say you wouldn’t like it."
Jareth held his face up high, and spoke again. "Syrah, I need to know this. Please … tell me." His sapphire blue eyes pleaded with her dark brown ones.
Syrah breathed deeply. "Alright." She stood, and paced the room, wringing her hands as she did so. "You see, I think something bad has happened to Alentio. Or, rather, I know something bad has happened! You see … Alentio …" she paused, then spoke so fast her words ran together. "AlentiohasbeenattackedbyChuniandGoonads!"
Jareth blinked for a moment, then said: "Slower, Syrah. We can’t understand you."
Syrah looked at the ground, studying the vibrations she was getting from it. Lokath touched her arm softly and she jumped. "Sorry," he said, then turned away.
Syrah glanced up again, at the people around her—her friends. She just hoped they wouldn’t play a game of shoot the messenger. "Alentio has been attacked by Chunia and Goonads!"
Copyright 2000 M. Lees
