Chapter 13:

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Diana had been right in guessing that it was a long way down.

Balendor's wings unfurled slowly, allowing them both to feel the thrill of the fall.

She felt her mouth opening in a silent scream, and her body bracing for the sudden life-ending fall but with a wrench of his shoulder blades Balendor pulled them both into the air.

Higher and higher they went with each violent flap of his wings.

"Don't look down outsider," he murmured in her ear. "You'll sorely regret it if you do." Diana gasped as his arms wrapped around her waist so tightly she felt all the air leave her lungs as they surged higher in the sky.

She tried to obey, but her eyes were drawn to the world below.

One little peek couldn't hurt, she thought and allowed her gaze to drift downward.

All of the thought left her mind in an instant--wiped clean by the sheer awesome terror of the vast stretch of world rushing by below.

Diana screamed and she found herself laughing and Balendor dipped lower with a muttered curse she could barely catch above the roar of the wind.

He thought she was afraid.

She could feel the muscles in his arms tensing as he fought to soar lower until the height wasn't so jaw dropping, but Diana shook her head.

He couldn't possible see her with his focus on flying, so she shouted one word that made him almost freeze in surprise.

"Higher!"

He hesitated for one brief second before with a powerful surge of his wings, he launched them further in the sky.

The feeling was magical. With the wind pulling at her body and the scent of fresh air in her lungs, Diana felt utter and totally weightless. Far below the world went on sleeping but she was so far above it all she might have not existed at all.

The sky endless and black swelled overhead and she longed to dive into it.

Balendor held her tighter as a particularly powerful gale brought them higher still and Diana gasped at the sheer vastness of the world below.

Trees dotted the earth like prints on a sheet of fabric, with dark rolling patches for hills and bright silver lines for rivers and streams. She had never seen anything so magnificent in her life--not even the most elegant views of the Ivor castle could possibly compare to this...

She spoke something out loud--words she barely remembered, and Balendor leaned over her shoulder in response.

"You are strange for an outsider," he shouted above the wind's deafening howl. Diana felt a shiver sink into her skin--but it had nothing to do with the frigid midnight temperature.

"I am strange for anyone," she said, mimicking Flick's words--but instead of making her sound mysterious, they only made her seemed like a petulant child who didn't fit in.

Maybe that was what she really was.

"Strange or not," Balendor remarked dryly, "most people would be wetting themselves about now, not smiling like some confound idiot."

Diana felt her skin blush red as she realized he had no trouble seeing her face from behind. In fact, he was closer to her now that anyone had ever been except for Flick during her awkward hug.

Her...and Mama.

Diana shook her head to clear the bothersome thought.

"It's..." she wanted to sound every bit the elegant, sophisticated Ivorian she claimed to be, but the only word that came for to describe this was; "Magical."

Balendor scoffed at her choice of words. "You think of magic, when all you really know is hat tricks," he said in mocking tones, and Diana felt the color rise even more in her cheeks.

"That's not true!" she protested, but her mind was on Docktore the Acuremage, Flick the so called fairy and so many other things that were so far from her understanding.

Maybe she was ignorant--but he didn't need to know it.

"My father does more than magic hat tricks," she declared--and it wasn't really a lie. She had no idea what her father did--anything but jewelry and fashion was a dull subject in the life of a castle maiden.

Now she wondered just how much of her world she didn't really understand.

Balendor laughed that rumbling laugh and she could fell his head shaking above her hair. "Humph!" She waited for some cold, calculated response, but all he said in the end was; "Do you trust me?"

What?

Diana thought the words over and wondered if she misheard. "What?" She shouted, and her words were almost snatched away completely by the fierce gusts of wind.

Balendor seemed to smile coldly to himself as she dared to sneak a peek at his face while he leaned closer. "I said, little outsider; Do you trust me?"

"No," she said at once, but the word didn't seem right on her tongue. He had tried to kill her more than once, of course, but then he showed a side of himself that had kept her from freezing. Did she trust him?

She didn't really know.

Balendor took the 'no' as the truth and he leaned forward into the force of his wings with a malicious gleam in those black eyes.

"Good answer, outsider," he said, and then he let her go.

Whoosh!

Without the strength of his arms around her body, Diana plummeted like a rock. Her mouth opened in a breathless scream that barely pierced the air in a whisper.

The wind flung her around like a toy, tossing an arm there, a leg there--and her body was helpless against the violent pull. She tried struggling, fighting as the dark spot of the ground became larger and larger, but the fight was useless and all at once...she stopped.

Without her body struggling against its flow, the wind let her fall gracefully. Diana could feel herself rushing faster and faster toward the ground as the contents of her stomach rose up in her throat. She had never felt so terrified and it was a mere miracle that she didn't do just exactly what Balendor claimed anyone else would do.

Any minute, she expected to feel the impact of her body hitting the earth--but it never happened.

Strong arms caught her wrists, and her descent slowed in the powerful grip. Now she was only gliding, with her body hanging limply in the air like a worm from a hook.

"Open your eyes," Balendor whispered into her ear. Slowly, she wrenched them open and stared.

They were much lower than before. Low enough to make out the sharp branches of trees reaching for the soles of her feet. Close enough to brush them with a finger if she wished.

The ground rolled by like some dark untamed river while the moon rose like the sun overhead--washing the darkness with a light so bright it stung her eyes.

She wasn't

Diana felt her chest heave as it struggled to catch up with her heart-beat. She had never been so terrified in her life and the thought that Balendor could let her fall again--if he chose--almost made her faint.

But she realized that some dormant part of her thrilled within the sheer excitement. It was almost as terrifying.

Almost.

"I'll kill you!" She shouted to him, only to hear that rumbling laugh fill her ears. He pulled her lower and she kicked her legs uselessly in the air as the cold wind rustled the flimsy robes almost up to her waist--but at least the rage filled her body too much to leave any room for the cold.

"You could have had me killed!"

Balendor laughed again, so loudly that Diana could hear him clearly about the gust of wind that sucked all other sounds from the night. "Don't look down, outsider," he warned again just in time for the horrific sensation of her stomach falling through the soles of her feet made Diana gasp. She clung to his fingers so tightly she expected him to cry out.

The ground rushed to meet her.

This time, she didn't dare look down and squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that bright spots danced before them. "Don't let me fall!" The frantic cry seemed torn from her throat before she could help it. She almost prayed that Balendor couldn't hear her, but then he answered in a voice so low that it could have been imagined; "I won't."

The wind snatched at her hair and clothing until finally she felt the cool give of earth beneath her feet. Balendor let go of her wrists and pulled her against him just as the full weight of their landing almost brought her into the ground.

Diana allowed herself to relax in his touch for only a minute--just long enough to get her bearings, she told herself. Then she pulled away and slapped her arms across her chest as if she thought to trap her frantically beating heart inside it.

Thump, thump, thump, Thump.

She could feel the pulse in her throat.

"Put your head between your knees if you feel that you're going to throw up," Balendor offered and Diana pulled herself up to all five feet four inches of her height and gave him to most withering of glares she could manage.

It would have made a more lasting impression if her hair wasn't blown all over her shoulders like some bits of straw, or the breath didn't stick in her chest as it anticipated the next stomach rolling fall. She pointed a shaky finger in his direction and cursed; “You son of a banshee's horse!"

To her immense displeasure, his lips curled in the faint hint of a smile. "Banshee?" He questioned softly. "I bet you've never even seen a banshee, little outsider."

Diana seethed. "Don't call me that!" she shouted, but the shout took more energy out of her than a three mile run could. She slumped against the ground.

Wherever they were, it was thick with wild gasses. The weeds clung to her hands and feet like an itchy second skin. They covered the ground in a blanket wherever the trees loomed overhead.

In the soft moonlight, these trees looked like wild hunched giants stooping over to block the sun. They were huge and reached toward the sky in almost as high as the turrets of Ivor castle.

Diana shivered.

"Where are we?" She managed to ask Balendor between gulps for air. Here the air was frigid and cold as it filled her lungs.

"Here to test your theory," He said, but he would explain no more. With groan, he allowed his wings to fold and took off hunching into the undergrowth.

Diana waited a full second, and then a minute more--as the wind howled like some living beastly thing and unseen creepers wallowed in the dark--before taking after him.

He stood still, just long enough for her to reach him, before he reached back for her arm and snagged the cloth of her sleeve instead. With that, he led her along through the scratchy grasses and overgrown trees like a mother leading a child through a crowded marketplace.

If it was daylight--Diana told herself--she wouldn't be half of scared at all. This place was a regular deadwood, with nothing unusual but the average bears and bugs lurking within it--but as her bare feet tip-toed delicately over the dried weeds, she had a feeling that this place was nothing at all like the scenic forests at home in Ivor.

AS if to make her point, something long and wet slithered over the tops of her feet.

"Balendor!" she squealed and reached for his hand in surprise. For a moment, he let the contact linger, then continued the walk deeper into the forest, dragging Diana behind.

She hated the feel of dried bark and leafy plants catching under her fingers. The darkness shrouded her eyes like a veil--and the further they went beneath the towering trees, the less moonlight filtered through the branches.

It was like wandering a swamp blind, and Balendor's steady hand was the only thing keeping her from wandering lost this dark forest forever.

They walked in silence for minutes that seemed to stretch into hours until Balendor finally stopped behind a rather imposing tree.

"Don't move," he said softly and into the cover of shadow-draped bushes nearby. Diana couldn't only make out the barest Flicker of leaves before he appeared right at her side again as if formed by thin air.

"We need to be quiet now." His fingers found her easily in the darkness and he led her gingerly between a thicket of close-growing trees. "Easy," he scolded when she followed to close and a dry twig snapped underfoot. Other than that, the only sounds were those of the quiet murmurs of the forest and the calls of the wild things that called it home.

The, quite suddenly, the ground began sloping downward and the trees grew thinner and thinner until the spans between them was almost as long as Balendor.

In the distance, Diana could just make out the Flicker of candle light before Balendor pulled them both to a sudden stop.

"Wait here," he said again, and Diana hoped in her gut that the worried expression on his face had just been her imagination.

He slunk off without another word and the minutes stretched on the longer she waited.

This place was an eerie, thin clearing where shrouds of ivy clung to the bark of trees like leafy green clothing. It was still dark--but not quite as black as the deadwood--and Diana could make out the own trembling shape of her fingers at her side.

Balendor was taking an awfully long time. She wondered what he could possibly be doing. The creepy trees seemed to lean closer and if just waited for the moment to gobble her up.

She took one teeny step in the direction he had gone, and then another and another until she was ducking between the shadowy shapes at a full speed run.

Wham!

The ground was knocked from under her feet.

"Quite!" A voice growled, and she swallowed back a frantic scream. Hands pulled her to her feet and shook her forcefully like a mother disciplining a child. "I told you to stay put!"

Balendor yanked her forward before she could even find the breath to protest. They rounded a patch thick with tall scratchy plants to where the land turned flat and beads of light were scattered across the darkness.

Diana looked, and blinked.

Then she stared.

A small village wallowed at the edge of a stream that cut through the thinning forest like the blade of a knife--the first form of civilization she had seen since Docktore's marshy dwelling.

It was run-down and decrepit for sure, but the crumbling wood dwellings and bright bits of glowing lanterns seemed more brilliant to her than pure gold.

"What is this place?" she asked Balendor, but he didn't reply. Those dark eyes were tight with worry as he eyed the odd town.

No people moved beyond the narrow spiked gate, but she could faintly make out moving dots of torch lights no doubt carried by the town's citizens.

The place was small enough to fit inside a square of Ivor's courtyard, but Diana found herself itching for the amenities it might have.

A bathhouse maybe, a real inn, and food--oh food!--nothing at all like the bitter rations that Flick and Balendor seemed to live on.

She could almost taste in on her tongue.

It was almost the stuff of some vibrant fantasy--but the reason Balendor had for bringing her here had nothing to do with idle comfort, she knew.

They were here for a reason.

"Keep low, and don't make a sound," Balendor whispered. "When I say move, you head to the gate--with or without me."

"But I don't know where we are. What if--"

The 'ifs' were far too many to list all at once, so instead she tightened her fingers around the width of his forearm and clenched until her nails bit deep into the rough fabric of his shirt.

Balendor shrugged her off and pushed her forward with the palm of his hand. "Move," he said, and Diana had no choice but to walk meekly ahead while he crept soundlessly behind--she looked back every second or so to make sure he didn't fade into the underbrush.

The village wasn't known for its cleanliness it seemed. The closer they got, the more the disgusting stink of rotten vegetables, sewage and wastes prickled her nose.

Even the stream that surrounded the place was ankle-deep with a frosty coating of filth. Bits of floating garbage and only the gods knew what else caught Diana's eye as they floated past.

A faint splash sounded close by as one of the dots near the gate--no doubt a guard--tossed something small and dark into the churning waters.

She wanted to retch.

"Why did you bring me here?" She demanded over her shoulder--for surely this was the reason for his midnight ride.

Another Acuremage, perhaps? Or something worse...

He didn't answer her, and she found herself staring hard at the line of his jaw in the dark, willing it to move. They moved closer until nothing but the odorous stream kept them from the pointed gate on the other side.

By some miracle, the guards hadn't noticed their presence.

Through the small gaps in the gate, Diana could make out the huddled shape of a body, the curve of a road, and the dusty window of a squat building.

"Take it all in outsider..." Balendor whispered quietly in her ear. "Take it all in and realize that this is what you're 'perfect Ivor' allows to go on outside its gates."

It was a long moment before she understood his words--and even longer still, before she truly realized what he meant.

The place as a rat whole--she didn't need to see the inside to know that. Even in the darkness, the place radiated despair. If Diana dared to strain her ears above the windy silence, she knew that she'd hear the wails of crying children and the coughs of the sick.

But still, as harsh as it was--she knew that people lived in squalor outside the castle's gates. Why else, would the order strive so hard to bring the children back into the republic’s safe and clean borders?

She didn't understand, and her mouth opened to tell Balendor just that, when the breeze rustled the cloaks of one of the soldiers perched on a wooden watch post.

Scarlet.

Scarlet and gold, Diana could see the blend of colors as clearly as if they stood in broad daylight.

Imperial soldiers.

"Impossible!" she whispered, but her feet were already moving her closer. Balendor's hand shot out at the last minute to pull her back but he missed, and Diana didn't stop until her feet were ankle-deep within the putrid stream.

Imperial soldiers, here in the middle of nowhere.

What were guards of Ivor doing in a rat-infested flea dome such as this?

She ached to get closer but even desperation wasn't enough to make her swim through the grimy water. Instead, she strained her eyes so hard that she half expected to go blind.

The scarlet draped soldier didn't disappear and his bright robes didn't magically change into a duller color.

Diana's mind was reeling so fast she could barely keep up with it. Flick's words echoed in her mind;

'They take the children as slaves.'

She stood alone and stared, and stared, and stared until her feet ached with mind-numbing cold as the chill beat against her like a hammer blow. Her mind swam with the reasons why imperial soldiers could be patrolling an outsider peasant hovel--and none of them particularly kind.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts, but she couldn't erase them no matter how hard she tried.

It wasn't true, she thought. "It's not," she said the words out loud as if that could cement them as the truth.

She barely noticed Balendor creeping up behind until his hand brushed her shoulder. "Get back before they see you," he said and pulled her back into the tree's shaggy shadows.

They didn't speak. Diana, because she didn’t' trust her own voice and Balendor because he was too busy steering her through the darkness to care.

The eerie silence of the deadwood pressed in on them both until Diana was almost grateful when Balendor took them both into the air just to escape it.

The wind's roar was a powerful force that drove everything but the thrill of flight from her mind. Everything--but even it couldn't erase the aching chill growing deep inside Diana's heart.

Maybe her Ivor wasn't all it seemed to be.

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