The Cost of a Spell [Completed]

[Dáire]

The change in Kat, when her eyes met Dáire’s, was enough to give him whiplash. The smile that momentarily brightened her face was a polar opposite of the stern gaze she kept upon what was now evidently, a former lover. He parroted the words back to her, his attention flicking between the two humans whose presence seemed to be fighting for dominance within the small lodgings.

Kat turned over what looked like an ornate, and fairly old, elven earring, just as Artemis had demanded of her. Something flickered in the icy cold depths of her eyes, but he couldn't be sure what it had been before she shut the emotion off - or hid it away from view at any rate.

He was still watching Kat when the thief's words broke off mid way through; he looked to the small man and saw the colour flowing out of his face like water down the drain. “Artemis, what’s-”. His words were abruptly cut off, the young man’s eyes flying wide, a slightly crazed sheen washing across them as the questions fell out of him in a rush. The volume made Dáire wince as he looked more closely at the earring, but he could see nothing amiss, “Your mother?” he asked, although not really expecting a reply- which he didn't get. Artemis’ remained focused on a now confused looking Kat, her brows drawn together, the fine lines casting shadows across her stern face.

The pulse of magic swept the room, coalescing within the earring. Daire was so lost, his own brow knit together, almost into a scowl as he struggled to put together the pieces of what was beginning to feel like a very large puzzle in which several key pieces had been left out. Not that in the next moment it seemed to matter any longer. He watched as the colour that had drained from Artemis’ face, flooded back in, his features crumpling with a fury he hadn't really thought the cool, smooth talking man to be capable of. He was still processing his claims about his mother, watching Kat closely after her denial that anything had been amiss, when he became aware of Artemis digging in his satchel furiously. He’d pulled the battered scroll case out, and the scroll within, before Daire realised what it was he held; the magic pulsing around the paper and the enchanted ink glistening beneath the low light of the room.

“Artemis! Don’t use that!” He lunged for the page, but the swift thief had already maneuvered out of his reach, the blood to activate the spell already on the page, being soaked up as the final ingredient for the incantation’s activation. There wasn't anything he could do; in this instance, he was as helpless as a human infant to stop whatever Artemis was about to unleash upon his friend - intent and direction could be as important as the words when it came to these things.

“It is done, it is known, it can never be revoked,” The words clanged around in his head as Artemis almost wheezed at his side. He’d heard similar declarations before, the outcomes had never been pretty. He held onto Artemis’ upper arm, steadying him as the man stumbled backwards.He looked back to Kat, worried for what he might see.

“We should depart,” he said, his voice quiet and controlled. “I promised Artemis my help today, and so I must keep to my word; for I am nothing without it.” He gave her what he hoped was an apologetic look before swiftly spinning both him and the thief around, his long legs making short work of the distance. He wrapped one arm around the other man’s shoulders, bracing him as the man seemed to look increasingly green, and somewhat liable to topple over should he lose his elven support stand.

“I didn't realise things had gotten that serious,” he grumbled as they crossed the main floor of the Hart. He avoided looking around the room. He didn't need his own temper flaring right this moment, an angry witch and deadly little street thief were enough to contend with.

The bracing cold air of late autumn hit them as they stepped out of the main door. He suspected the first frosts may not be far off.

[Artemis Black]

Artemis felt the world shifting as he was drug along behind Dáire. In his thoughts there was only the desperate need to escape, and Dáire’s words. “I must keep to my word; for I am nothing without it,” echoed in his ears as he stumbled along.

He was going to be sick, violently, and he wasn’t certain he could contain it as they moved down the stairs and across the open room. They reached the cobble outside and the cold midday air hit Artemis’ lungs. The shock was answered by a clench in his gut, a rush of burning bile, and the remains of breakfast. He stumbled forward, retching but continuing to move with Dáire’s help.

He tried to whistle, but the mess in his mouth and throat made it come out as a weak gurgle. Artemis spit loudly, clearing his mouth and whistled again. A sharp piercing sound that was immediately followed by a loud snort and the snap of a weak rope. Sir Francis, looking regal and imposing, came trotting around the side of the Hart to snuffle in concern at his rider’s hair.

“Come on,” he said, grunting in annoyance as his arms hung weakly against the moose’s side. He couldn’t make them pull him up and he looked to the massive elf. “I- I’m so sorry,” he whispered faintly, his voice a ruined mess. There was a grunt as the big elf practically tossed him onto the mount and he scrambled quickly to get settled before the Dáire was suddenly there pressed to his back. Artemis pressed his legs to the mount, urging Sir Francis forward before he slumped in the saddle.

[Katarya Frost]

Katarya took a seat, smoothing her dress as she sat down, patting her braid out of habit. Things had gone strangely; Artemis had invoked magic to seal some kind of pact. The ring on her finger felt so cold she almost took the damned thing off.

A guttural cry from her window made Kat's eyes flick to the side. "You have an answer?"

Nyx cawed in response.

Kat nodded, reaching for her wine, which was now cold and made her grimace as she sipped. "Good."

***

"I'd hoped to talk to you, Quimellë."

I'm very busy." The older woman said, without looking up from her her books.

Kat wrung her hands; she hated having to talk to Elára; the woman was so intimidating! "It's important." She said.

"Isn't everything with you people?" The woman said, not looking up. After a moment, and when it was clear Katarya was not leaving, the old Elf sighed. "See me in an hour. On you go."

***

"So, it seems you have been afflicted with that most tedious of problems; the jilted lover." Elára held a small glass of brown liquid, from which she sipped sparingly.

Kat looked up from her own (much larger) cup. "I rather think it's more than that. I have been named an enemy of the Goose! That's hardly a position I want to be in. I don't want a dagger in my back while I work."

"I agree." Elára said, after a moment. "Your actions are no longer just your own, Almá Katarya; they affect all of us. Now it seems I must put out a fire you have made, and yet with your rank I must respect that the Kelbé has a duty to protect those who live under its grace." She tapped her fingers on her chin. "Perhaps a conversation with a leader of the Goose might be in order ... nothing talks more ..."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Kat said quickly.

Elára's sharp eyes turned to the young witch. "You are not here to tell me what is or is not a good idea, Almá. You asked for my help, and you shall have it. Now ..." The woman rose to her feet. "I have more work than you have; so you may go and no ... I do no wish to be argued with. Good night, Almá Katarya."

Kat got to her feet and nodded; she was hardly likely to argue with Elára of all people. "Yes, Quimellë." And then left the table (and her wine), to retire for a very restless night's sleep