“I shall.” She nodded. And with that, Siouxsie gathered up the last of her things and took to the sky, slaloming away amongst the tops of the trees. Below, Hoxley watched her depart and vanish before continuing her lazy walk around the temple with Ignatius by her side.

  “What’s that weathered book you’re reading?” she asked

  “An artifact the twins discovered last time they were here.” Ignatius said without looking up. “I hadn’t had a chance to study it until I came here to stow the crown. From what I can decipher, this tome contains all kinds of forbidden magic I never knew existed.”

  “Forbidden magic?” Hoxley asked with some surprise. “Magic you’re not allowed to practice?”

  “Spells and incantations and rites I don’t believe anyone should attempt to control.”

  “What kinds of rites?” she inquired.

  “Unnatural things from our past I believe were better meant forgotten. There’s arcane things I cannot fathom that would do anyone any good.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Mind control, incapacitation of the limbs, teleportation, and unnamable things to do with the dead.”

  “What’s teleportation?”

  “A spell that can magically send an object or person from one place to another in the blink of an eye regardless of how large the distance between them.”

  “Ignatius, that sounds like powerful magic we could use! Can you imagine how useful that would be to us? If you could summon one of these spells, we’d no longer have to run to far! Why, if you could manage to perform such a feat, we could evade Lord Baltus’ so much more easily!

  “It’s not that simple.” He told her. “It’s not a door that can be opened and closed on a whim. It takes great strength and fortitude to cast such a spell, and it requires very specific if not rare components to make the spell work. Inside the book I found a small hollowed out potion where the pages had been trimmed. Hiding in the indentation I found this;” Ignatius reached inside his inner pockets and pulled out a small silver chan. Hanging from the bottom and glimmering like a polished gem was a small bauble no bigger than a thumb. It pulsed with a radiance of its own and Hoxley could not help herself but look closer to inspect the magnificent thing. A perfectly smooth stone like that of a diamond hung suspended with three tiny blue lights hovering inside and moving about like captured fireflies.

  “I’ve…I’ve never seen such a thing before.” She gasped. “This is some form of magic?”

  “Yes, like nothing I’ve ever known to exist.”

  “What does it do?”

  “I’ve only read a little bit. The deciphered text spells out that these captured lights are an arcane source of great magic that can grant its user powers unthinkable.”

  “Such a tiny thing? Can it really be true?”

  “If I didn’t have a such a detailed account in the book I would never have known. Such artifacts were lost to us long ago during the Dark Harvest. This is but a tiny fragment of things to last the test of time. Everything else is…dust.”

  “What can this spectacular necklace do for us? Could it help us in our fight?”

  “Give me a moment.” He said. “Let me read what’s written here.” She sat patiently while he read a few pages. Finally, he turned another page where a sketched picture of the gem was displayed fully with an incantation written beneath. “Aha! Here it is! The Talisman of Lenfris! It reads:

  This talisman, created during a full blood moon ritual with the aid of sixty and six witches is the only one of its kind. Should the bearer touch the talisman three times with a weapon of steel and recite the incantations below, the air shall split in twain and offer an exit to another place of the user’s choice. But be forewarned that it has limited power and can only be used three times before its power is lost forever never to return.

  “My goodness.” Hoxley gasped. “An artifact that can open doors to other places. If it weren’t for you reading and showing it to me now, I never could have conceived such a thing could exist. You’re not trying to play some type of trick on me, are you? Teasing me with fantastic fabrications?”

  “Me?” asked Ignatius, holding the page out for her to read. “No! Not a trick at all! It’s all right here. See for yourself.” The scrawling was old and inked in multiple colors making it hard to read the dialect, but he was correct after all.

  “It sounds like a very important and special thing for one person to wield. It must be protected lest it fall into the wrong hands. That could be catastrophic.”

  “What’s worse is I don’t see anywhere in here about these spells having to be cast by a magic user. It almost implies that they could be performed by anyone.”

  “I don’t think I like the idea of non-witches using magic. It sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

  “On that we can wholeheartedly agree. But even the incantations and invocations contained within it are far above anything I’ve seen even for seasoned witches.”

  “Why not just put it back where it was found? It was buried once it can be buried again.”

  “Yes, but it was uncovered once, it can be uncovered again. No, Hoxley. As much as the idea pains me to consider it, I believe something like this would be better off destroyed.”

  “I find that to be unfortunate and sad, Ignatius. It’s very much a part of your culture.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Agreed. It’s quite a conundrum.”

  “I have a conundrum of my own to consider.” She said.

  “Oh?” and what would that be, Hoxley dear?” he asked, closing the book.

  “I have concern for Morell’s future. He joined the prince and I after we stayed the night at his grandfather’s house. It was unknown to us that his grandfather had been notified of a bounty upon the prince’s life and during the night the grandfather made an attempt to assassinate him. I managed to intervene, but during the struggle, he fell into the fireplace and burned to death.”

  “My goodness.” Ignatius grimaced. “That’s a terrible way to die. Where are his parents?”

  “Gone. He’s an orphan travelling with strangers now.”

  “It would appear to me that he’s an orphan travelling with friends.”

  “Yes.” She laughed a little. “I think you’re correct. But if this matter with the prince were settled today, where would he go?”

  “Could he not travel back home to his grandfather’s house? Might he become an apprentice of some sort to make his way in the world?” He asked only for Hoxley to frown at his question.

  “His home burned to the ground. It is no more. What am I going to do with him?”

  “This is a grave matter indeed. It’s big hearted of you to have concern for his well -even though he is not your responsibility.”

  “He’s a child alone in the wild.”

  “He’s a child alone in the wild…with friends.” He reminded her.

  “Yes, that’s true. Were things back to normal today I don’t know how I could help him. My routes to deliver messages are long and pay just enough to keep food in my own belly, let alone two. Were he bigger, I believe seeking apprenticeship could be a grand opportunity for him. A baker? A blacksmith? I believe he has sense enough to become anything he puts his mind to but he’s…so…young.”

  “He’s old enough to prove himself on the field of battle. There are men as seasoned as Atticus who don’t flatten warhorses in a single swing.”

  “I’ve no mind to make him a mercenary. He needs stability, a home, an education, a livelihood of some value, not the life of a sword for hire and living tent camps waiting for the next bloody battle.”

  “Those are sound concerns.” Ignatius smiled. “You care for the boy as though you raised him yourself.”

  “I’ve no other way to feel in the matter. Should all this madness end, you and your siblings will return to Spellvale. He can’t keep pace with me, and I won’t abandon him on a trail somewhere to fend for himself. It wouldn’t be right. But alas I don’t know what to do to help him.”

  “He’ll need to travel that trail on his own one day, but yes I see what you’re saying. A boy needs a place to belong. I could propose something irregular.”

  “Irregular? How do you mean?”

  “It’s a lesser-known fact that witches sometimes take in orphans into the fold.”

  “The witches?” Hoxley’s eyebrows raised a little. “Are you being truthful, Ignatius? Is there a chance the witches would keep him until he’s of edge?”

  “There’s no guarantees.” He said, scratching his chin. “But it has been known to happen. It hasn’t come to pass in many years, but I do remember a non-magic user living in Spellvale when I was younger. As best as I can recall they left on good terms when they were of age and had skill enough to set out on their own.”

  “Ignatius, this is great news!” she said practically bouncing in place. “There’s an option after all!”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Hoxley. There are no guarantees the others would take to him as we have.”

  “But couldn’t you…wouldn’t you speak on his behalf to the quality of his character? He’s a good boy, Ignatius.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re right. Were it up to me I’d walk him into the heart of Spellvale myself. But I am not the only resident. How about this…” He took both of her hands in his and stared straight into her soul with those deep grey wells of eyes. “I give you my word that when this roving catastrophe meets its conclusion my siblings and I will speak loud and clear on Morell’s behalf that his character and deeds are worthy of integrating into witchly society. I’ll prod Robert into doing it at sword point if I have to, but I give you my word as a witch that I will see to it that Morell doesn’t waste away outside of the warmth of a community.”

  “This is fantastic news, Ignatius!” said Hoxley, dropping his hands to throw her arms around the witch’s shoulders and crush him with a hug. “It’s a chance, a real chance to bring him out of the wild and set him on a path he can live with! Thank you, Ignatius!” she squeezed harder “Thank you so much!”

  “You’re…you’re welcome.” He said with a pained expression, “Hoxley, your hoof is crushing my foot.”

  “Oh dear! I’m so sorry!” she said, letting go and backing away. “Ignatius I’m so sorry!”

  “Fear not. It’s the nicest crushing it’s had in awhile.” He smiled as he stretched and rotated his foot. “I don’t think it’s injured enough not to continue our walk a bit longer.”

  “Yes, of course.” she said, looping one arm around his with her spear upon her opposite shoulder. “Please let’s continue.” Ignatius tucked the book away inside his cloak, looped the silver chain of the talisman over his neck, and carried on with the faun at his side. The throbbing in his toes lessened with every step.