THE LONG AWAITED
SIX PAGE LONG CHAPTER NINETEEN
SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG
Seriously, I've been mega busy with school and stuff and this chapter is just getting sO CLOSE TO THE END SO EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING!!!!!!
Some edits: you might remember (but probably not) that originally there were about fifteen wizards that Matt captured. Well, I cut it down to thirteen because of issues. So there's that. Prepare to meet people! And stuff!! Woot!!
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CHAPTER 19
At first, the group was quite confused at Matt’s question. He beckoned for them to sit down as well, and winked. “I may have you all hostage, but even I know that hostages can’t run on fumes. I suppose you all have your own food…?” Several wizards and witches nodded, but some, including Marcy, shook their heads. “Ah, well. Good thing I brought enough. You can go a little ways away from me, but stay in my sight.” Matt clucked like a mother whose children were constantly running off. “Can’t have you running away into an alternate universe.”
The group bunched off a few feet away from where Matt sat. The people who hadn’t brought food drew near to him. Mell was one of them, but Marcy heard Leloni tell her that she had enough to share.
“I’ve brought a favorite--peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with a side of potato chips.” Marcy felt a pang of sorrow at the mention of the food. That’s what I should have been eating with Ellah just a few hours ago. Fishing around in his messenger bag, Matt pulled out several brown paper bags. “Here you go. Eat up, and I hope you’re not allergic to peanut butter.” He winked.
Being careful not to touch his fingers, Marcy grabbed one of the bags and walked off. She noticed a group of wizards and witches, including Will, who she hadn’t met yet. Wearily, she walked over to the circle and plopped down. “Feels good to sit down after standing so long,” she said, determined to start an at least normal sounding conversation.
“I agree,” said the guy with the ginger hair. He’s really fit, Marcy noted with some surprise, then chided herself. Why am I stereotyping magic users? Not all witches are creepy old ladies and not all wizards are old guys with purple robes. Except for that guy. The man who sat across from her was munching on a plate of roast beef and cabbage and was decked out in a large pointy hat, purple robes with silver stars, and shoes whose tips curled upward. Where in the world did he get a plate of steaming hot roast? She mentally smacked herself. Wait, I forgot. He’s a wizard. But still, where do you even put that?
The man with the ginger hair spoke up again. “I’m Flynn, by the way. I know you’re Marcy, and the guy that’s coming up behind you is Alex.” Marcy cocked an eyebrow and turned around. Alex was pretending to search for a group to sit with, and then “noticed” her circle. He came over and sat beside Marcy, ignoring her and digging into his sandwich. Rolling her eyes, she faced the group again.
“That’s right,” she affirmed, finding her sandwich packed in a ziplock bag inside the paper one. Her stomach grumbled loudly. Embarrassed, she unzipped the bag and took a bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It tasted delicious. “So you all pretty much know who I am, but what are your names? And are you witches or wizards?”
“I’m Wizard Merl,” said the older man in the purple robes, his mouth full of cabbage.
“Shawn,” a very skinny man said shortly. He had a strong British accent and sharp cheekbones, and strangely, only three fingers on each hand. There was also a dot in the center of his forehead, somewhat like an Indian. He must be from another space, thought Marcy. And he didn’t say if he was a witch or wizard. Huh.
“Ryan, warrior and wizard.” Shockingly, the man who spoke had completely purple skin. Several rows of black spots ran down the sides of his bald head, and two antennae grew on the top.
“I am Prince Quentin,” a pompous sounding man asserted. “Heir to the throne of Colline, Royal Son of the King, Lord of the Nine provinces. I dabble in magic and am neither witch nor wizard. Those statuses are below my rank.” He looked down his nose at Marcy, which made her squirm in her seat. Wow, I feel like dirt on his royal golden robes, she thought. How did he even get here anyway, if he’s not a wizard or witch? Prince Quentin delicately lifted a silver fork to his mouth and took a small bite of the meat speared on its end. Marcy resolved to file the issue for now and moved on.
“And I’m Nahn, a witch,” smiled an older looking plump Indian woman. She wore a lot of gold bangles and what Marcy remembered to be a sari, which was a bright orange.
“And you know me already,” said Will. His ukulele was strapped on his back, and she noticed that when he smiled his eyes crinkled. Yeah, this is a weird group of folks, she thought to herself, but they’re cool. I like them. I’m definitely having more fun than I would have with Olivia, even if there were cute guys at home.
“Nice to meet you all,” Marcy said, purposely smiling widely at Prince Quentin, who scowled. She took another large bite of her sandwich.
“So, which ones of you believed in the Well before this…trip?” Shawn asked, mouth full of a chicken salad sandwich.
Merl nodded. “I did. My grandma read me stories about it when I was young and I grew up just knowing that it was true.” A few of the group rolled their eyes. They probably think he’s a crackpot, Marcy pondered. Just as the thought crossed her mind, she caught Merl wink at her. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch upward and quickly blanked her face. And apparently he knows it.
“I did too,” Ryan said. He opened his mouth to take a bite of what looked like a corndog and Marcy nearly gasped. His tongue was split in half, like a snake’s. Thankfully she stifled the inhale before anyone caught it. Ryan continued. “On my space, 116TNine, the Well is worshiped. We send questers to try and find it. Only the bravest of warriors are sent to find the Well of Souhaiters.” He grinned and showed pointy white teeth, tapping his chest with a fist. Marcy noticed he wore a suit much like the Unologians, but it was black. On top of his suit he wore a metal breastplate with a strange emblem on it. “I was one of them, until…this.” His face clouded and his antennae drooped. “My people will probably be disappointed in me--I will have actually made it to the Well. Now we have no purpose.”
Feeling sorry for the poor alien guy, Marcy tried to cheer him up. “But you don’t know how to get here,” she pointed out. “So if…when we get back, you won’t know how to get here.”
Ryan’s antennae perked up and he smiled. “You’re right! That’s a very valid point, Marcy.” He bit into his corndog with renewed gusto. Marcy smiled with him.
Prince Quentin spoke up. “I never believed in the Well,” he said sniffily. “It’s just a legend, something mothers make up for their children at bedtime.”
“Then how do you explain this whole expedition?” Nahn pointed out.
He daintily took another bite of the meat on his fork and frowned at the Indian woman. How does he even chew with his face contorted like that? Marcy thought, disgusted by the amount of pride that oozed off of the man. “I,” stated Prince Quentin, “believe that this is a foolish trip. Zalic will find nothing at the end of this trip, except perhaps a common, empty well. We’ll probably end up trapped in another chamber and die of starvation.” As if daring anyone to contradict, he scowled and furiously cut a piece of some vegetable on his solid gold plate. Marcy blinked and shook her head a fraction. Okay. Well then.
“Are most of you done?” Matt yelled from somewhere behind her. “We need to get moving.”
“Come on kids, let’s clean up our picnic lunches,” joked Flynn. “Mommy wants us to go home now.”
“I do hope we can get home,” Shawn acknowledged. There was momentary silence.
“Oh, stop being such a pessimist,” Nahn bustled. She stood up and offered Marcy her hand. “We will get home, and that’s that. Would anyone like a peppermint after lunch? I always carry them.” Everyone gathered around to take a peppermint. They were small and very spicy--Marcy almost spit hers out. She glanced at Nahn, who was cheerfully chewing hers up. How--? she wondered. Maybe she’s just used to spicy foods?
“Are you guys coming or not?” She turned around to see Matt standing several feet away, feet planted and hands on hips. “We don’t have all day!”
Amidst much mumbling and grumbling, the group reassembled and followed Matt, who had eagerly started walking already. Marcy and Alex fell to the back again.
“So…” She felt really awkward and tried to start a conversation. “Do you know anything about where the Well is? Or what it looks like? Did Matt ever share any information with you?”
“Nope.” Alex kicked at the grass. “I never knew this would happen. We did try and find a lot of information on the Well of Souhaiters though. We stole some books.” Risking a side glance, she saw he was blushing and frowning. “We stole a lot of stuff. But he never told me that we’d try and find the Well.”
“Right.” They walked in silence. She could hear Matt counting from in front of the group. “What’s he counting?” she asked.
“I think he’s counting steps,” Shellie said. Marcy had almost forgotten she was in the group. The dark skinned-woman brushed some black hair out of her face. “He’s been doing it since we left the place where we had lunch.”
“Huh. Weird.” Marcy shrugged. “Guess this just means another chamber to open or something.”
“Ninety three, ninety four!” yelled Matt enthusiastically. “Everyone stop right where you are!”
The group halted. Several people stepped on others’ toes, which produced more grumbling and nearly a full blown fight from Prince Quentin, but eventually they quieted down.
Matt strode beside the group of people, rubbing his hands together. “Okay, Ryan, Quentin”--“Prince Quentin,” muttered the prince--“Aarsa, Shawn, Flynn, and Merl, come here. Your jobs are next. Everyone else can gather around to watch, but wait just a few minutes till I get these set up. And don’t try running away while I’m busy.” He nodded solemnly. “I don’t know how far this underground space goes, and you wouldn’t last long without food.”
Rolling her eyes, Marcy crossed her arms and sighed. As if you haven’t told us a billion times already. He really wants to make sure we don’t leave. And what about the food that they all seem to have with them?
“Now.” Matt rubbed his hands together eagerly. “This is a fun one. You guys, who I’ve picked, come over here. I rubbed my foot in the ground where the ninety-fourth step was, that’s where Aarsa will stand.” The lizard woman reluctantly stepped over to the small hole in the grass. “The rest of you, take a few steps back.”
The group warily took several steps away from Aarsa, who looked nervous. “What shall I be doing?” she questioned.
“I was about to tell you that,” Matt said impatiently. “You’ll need to do a bit of sorcery here.”
“Wait, sorcery?” Marcy whispered to Alex . “Jenny never told me about sorcery!”
“It’s a different kind of magic,” he murmured. “A bit more potent in some ways but less in others. It’s darker, too. Not as strong as magic in the physical realm, but it’s very strong in the spiritual and mental realms. Watch.”
“Zalic, you know I don’t do sorcery anymore,” Aarsa protested. “After being exiled by my people I took up becoming a wizard. I can’t--”
“Oh, you will.” A menacing smile crept over his face. “I happen to know that the lovely Mell here is apprenticed to become a sorceress--she will serve if you don’t.”
Marcy heard a stifled gasp from somewhere in front of her. She craned her neck around the line of people to see Mell collapse into Leloni’s arms, hands covering her face.
“No! I…I will do it,” Aarsa said, concern written on her green features. “I won’t let you make the poor girl do…that.”
“Good.” Folding his arms, Matt nodded. “A wise choice. Oh, Prince Quentin, you’ll need to stand over in front of Aarsa. Come along now.”
“Do not talk to me as if I were a child, Zalic,” the prince sniffed. “The only reason I shall comply is that I will be able to get home quicker if I do.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re more like a child than you think, Q.”
With what seemed to be great effort, Prince Quentin suppressed a sigh and came forward to stand before the lizard woman. Marcy heard him mutter something under his breath.
“Good. Good.” Her father looked pleased. “Aarsa, time to do your thing. You’ll need to extract some of his memories.”
Marcy wasn’t sure if the lizard woman paled, but her green skin did seem to change to a lighter shade. “What? No! I refuse to do that--you know the consequences!”
“Fine by me,” he shrugged. “Mell, come here. You’ll get to do it.”
“NO!” Aarsa was visibly shaking. “Do not make that young and inexperienced girl do this complicated maneuver! I will do it.” She squared her shoulders. “I will.”
“Okay.” Matt shrugged again. “You’ll need to extract memories of him being a prince--things like his childhood, who his father is, maybe throw some riches in there too. Oh, and put them in this bottle.” He handed Aarsa a small, jet black bottle with a white stopper. “Quentin, your small amount of magic should protect your mind and you just might come out of this still sane. But there are the rare cases…” He winked.
Prince Quentin gulped. “Um,” he stuttered, worried, “why does it have to be me?”
Matt looked impatient. “Because we needed someone of royal blood and you were the best option, believe it or not. Aarsa, begin.”
The lizard woman teared up. “Prince Quentin, I’m very sorry I have to do this. Try and hold on to reality, remember who you are. I’m going to duplicate the memories so that you’ll still have them.” She licked her lips with a shockingly red tongue. “I’ll start now.” He shut his eyes tightly, bracing himself.
Aarsa slowly shut her eyes. Marcy saw her lips move. Her skin tingled and she looked down. Gooseflesh popped up on her arms and her hair raised just a little. Suddenly, Prince Quentin shook violently, once, then twice. He collapsed to the ground, his face contorted. A single tear traced its way down Aarsa’s scaly cheek. Quentin’s eyes were scrunched up tightly. As pompous as he was, Marcy couldn’t help feeling pity and concern for the prince. “Will he be okay?” she whispered anxiously to Alex.
“I’m not sure,” he whispered back. “It depends on how strong he is. His ego might be big enough so that he’ll come out all right.”
Slowly, painfully, a small, silvery-blue light wound out of Quentin’s head. The light, which reminded Marcy of some sort of substantial mist, floated over to Aarsa. Uncapping the bottle, her eyes still closed, Aarsa held it out and the mist drifted lazily into it.
Wishing that it would hurry up, Marcy bit her nails. “When will it stop?” she fretted. “The longer it takes, the more scared I get!”
Just as she finished, the prince gave one final shudder and was still. “Finally,” she breathed, and let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
The rest of the silver mist whipped into the bottle with a crack and Aarsa plugged the top on, collapsing to the ground beside Quentin. “Q,” she whispered, shaking him gently. “It’s over, you can get up now. Open your eyes.” Another gleaming tear ran down her high cheekbones. “Wake up,” she urged him. “Wake up, Q.”
The prince didn’t move. Marcy began to panic and looked to Matt. He was standing in somewhat of a slouch, tapping his foot. “Hurry up,” he muttered, inspecting a fingernail.
And he doesn’t even care, she fumed. I can’t believe him. I just…ugh! Grasping Alex’s arm anxiously, she tugged on it, trying not to run over to the prince’s side with Aarsa. “Alex, will he be okay? Tell me he’s going to be okay!”
“Hush, he’s going to be fine,” he assured her, patting her hand with surprising care but keeping his eyes on the prince. “Watch, he’s showing the signs of waking up.”
Gradually, Marcy saw a blush creep up Quentin’s neck. His face grew crimson, almost like a terrible sunburn. Right when she was sure he couldn’t get any redder, the prince inhaled deeply and opened his eyes. She let out another breath.
Aarsa sobbed, apologizing profusely to Quentin, but he didn’t say anything. He simply blankly looked into her eyes. Leloni joined the lizard woman by the prince. “This is why I gave it up,” Aarsa wept, cradling him in her arms. “I can’t do this ever again. I’ll never do it!”
“Come on, dear,” Leloni said compassionately. “Get up. We will fix this. Quentin will be okay. Don’t worry. Come on, get up. Let’s go.” The slight, pale woman helped up the taller green one and ushered her over to the group, where she was surrounded by most of the women of the group. Matt helped Quentin up, which surprised Marcy, and led him over to the men.
“Just help him around,” he said, seemingly unconcerned. “I’ve seen this happen before. He’s fine physically, just drained mentally. He’ll obey what you tell him and go where you lead him, but he won’t say anything. He might come out of it with his wits, only time will tell.” Dusting off his hands, Matt stepped back and gazed at the group. “Onto the next task!” he exclaimed, receiving dirty looks from most of the company. He just smiled. It made Marcy sick.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” He snapped his fingers and walked back over to Quentin, reached out, and yanked a lock of hair off of his head. The prince whimpered but still didn’t say anything. Matt ignored the noise and fingered the black hair. “This should do. Now, Nahn and Flynn, it’s your turns.”
The two stepped forward, an unlikely pair. Nahn had to have been a foot and a half shorter than the fit, curly redhead. They looked at each other warily.
“We’re so close!” Matt scrunched up his hands like a happy kid. “Almost there! Okay Nahn, you’ll need to use your talent here. She has a thing for metal finding,” he addressed the group. “You’ll be searching for some sort of pedestal, probably made of black stone like the chimney on the first chamber. It’s buried around this area.” He pointed to the ground where Aarsa had stood.
“What do I do?” asked Flynn.
“Nothing until the pedestal appears,” Matt shrugged. “Go ahead, Nahn. The quicker you go, the closer we get!”
The plump Indian woman rolled her eyes. “Like we haven’t heard that a thousand times.” She waved her hands around over the grass. “I work better when I talk. Sorry. I wonder what kind of stone I’m looking for? Was it artificial, or a lost mineral of some sort? Or was it--ahah!” Pointing at the ground, she nodded. “This is it. Somewhere under here. Now I just have to bring it up…” Like she was pulling a carrot out of the ground, she made a yanking motion and the soil on the surface began to break. Nahn grunted and pulled harder. Slowly, the tops of a black pillar began to peek out of the grass.
“Flynn, help her,” commanded Matt. Flynn obeyed and soon the pedestal was fully above ground. Strangely, there was no dirt lingering on it; it was completely clean. “Well done, well done.” Marcy’s father was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Look at the markings! Look at them!”
Some sort of strange golden drawings were all over the pedestal. They looked like mostly swirls, with a few pictures in between. Marcy peered at it, trying to discern what the pictures were, but she couldn’t make them out.
“Nahn, you’re done. Step aside.” The Indian woman made an offended face and backed up to stand by the rest of the women. “Flynn, your turn. These next few jobs are short, but very meaningful and important,” Matt addressed the small crowd. “Flynn is a shapeshifter, for those of you who don’t know.”
Marcy wrinkled her eyebrows. Sorcery, shapeshifters--wow, there’s a lot I don’t know about. She glanced over at Flynn, who looked sick. “No one was supposed to know that,” the wizard mumbled. “I was cursed, as a kid. It was hard to control. I got locked away by my parents. They thought I was a demon kid.” Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I just wanted to be normal.”
Matt slowly clapped his hands. “And there’s your sob story for the day,” he said unsympathetically. “Flynn, take this bottle full of Q’s memories and also take this lock of his hair.” He handed the items to the wizard, who accepted them reluctantly. “This part you’ll need to be very careful on. Both have to touch the pedestal at exactly the same time and there’s a special bit of magic that has to be done. You’ve got to change into several things in succession while you hold them, and then put them down. No pressure.”
Marcy could see that Flynn was beginning to sweat. “Um,” he said uncertainly, stuttering a little, “I’m not sure if I can--I mean, I don’t think I can--”
“You’ll be fine.” Matt slapped Flynn’s shoulder as if they were best friends and beamed. Flynn almost choked and dropped his precious cargo. “Now, let’s get to it. You’ve got to be a crow first, then a bear, a raven, and finally a fawn before becoming yourself again and placing those on the pillar. Good luck!” He stepped back and crossed his arms.
The big man swallowed again. “Um, how long do I--okay, uh, I guess I’ll start, um, here goes.”
Marcy crossed her fingers. Why do these people have to always do things they don’t want to do? she thought. It wasn’t nice of the creators of the Well to make all these hoops for them to jump through. Oh, please let this work!
Flynn started to the items down on the pillar, then remembered he couldn’t and shuddered. An intense look of concentration came over his face. With a groan, he shrunk. His skin became black, then sprouted feathers, and with a small pop he was a crow, flapping beside the pillar. Cawing, the crow--or rather, Flynn---nearly dropped the bottle from his talon, which made several of the group gasp, but managed to grab a hold of it before it slipped from his grasp. The crow’s feathers began to thin and turn brown, it grew bigger, and with another pop it was a bear. Delicately holding the bottle in one paw and the lock in another, the bear growled and turned into a raven, which looked a lot like the crow. After nearly dropping the bottle again, the raven became a fawn. It was holding the bottle and hair in its mouth and nearly gagged.
Marcy inhaled quickly. The fawn quickly turned back into Flynn, who staggered a little and looked quite pale. “Just set them down now,” Matt ushered. “Almost done.”
Flynn put a hand to his head. “I’ve never done that so fast,” he said woozily. “I…what happens if I don’t put them down at the same time?”
“I’m not sure.” Matt set his jaw. “Be careful.”
The big man’s head bobbed back and forth and his eyes crossed a little. Nervous, Marcy stepped back involuntarily and grabbed a hold of Alex’s arm again. It was very comforting. Flynn blinked, then crouched down and, keeping his eyes on the pillar, slowly lowered both of the items down. His hands shook. Everyone held their breath.
---------AAHAHAHAHHAHA A CLIFFY
HAHAHAHA
I SHALL TORTURE YOUUUUUUU
I love all these things that I have created. Do you think Q will be okay? I might be working out a minor sub-plot for him…maybe…
Who's your favorite new person?
Also, I'm totally keeping Will. He's going to be important in later stuff. Keep an eye on him.
DERP SEE YA LATER AND I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE ASAP
~~Zoë Wingfeather
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