The Ten Guardians: Sacrifice©

Chapter Eight: The Escape

Opening his eyes, Sparrow found he was still seated in the chair with his feet propped up on the magical footstool and the black dragon staring at him from the rug. He could feel the weight of Jareth’s hands being lifted from his head, and he slowly came to his feet. The footrest folded itself into the rest of the rug as Sparrow stood up and wearily turned to face Jareth. He felt every muscle in my body aching from the enforced ceremony to discover his name.

He looked up at Jareth.

“What day is it?” he asked with the croaking throat of someone woken from a deep sleep.

With a knowing smile, Jareth said, “What do you mean? It’s only been five minutes,” before laughing genuinely at the perplexed look on Sparrow’s face.

Sparrow felt as if he had been riding bareback on a horse with no sleep for three days, but glancing at the small windup clock on the mantle over the fire confirmed the eternal five-minute lapse of time.

“So, did it work? Is that my name? Sarfice?” Sparrow asked as he walked to the table to get a drink of water.

Sparrow finished his drink and turned around to find Jareth’s hand frozen in the air as if he had been trying to stop him from leaving his side, and there was a look of complete shock on his face. Jareth’s jaw had even dropped open. Usually adept and quick to cover any emotion that might give himself away, Sparrow was astonished to see Jareth’s apparent lack of emotional control. Not knowing what he had said wrong and believing his question to be rather mild, Sparrow gazed back with an equal look of shock on my face as he waited for a response.

Jareth eventually came under some sense of control and timidly said, “You remember what happened?”

Realizing now that he was not meant to remember the mental transaction, Sparrow decided he would rather have answers than try to keep parts of it to himself.

Sparrow opened his mouth to ask questions but was halted by Jareth’s raised hand. He had his head cocked to one side as if he was listening. Not caring for the risk of disclosing his abilities, Sparrow decided to eavesdrop on his conversation, but in doing so, he realized the messenger was screening their communication. He hit an invisible wall when he tried to listen to the conversation, but fortunately, Jareth forgot to screen his response.

“I’m not surprised. Marcus said they would move soon, and Riana was clearly grabbing for power in that meeting. I’m glad you insisted on us being prepared. Let’s do it,” he said before severing the link.

Jareth looked at Sparrow and spoke silently to his mind, “Are you ready, Sparrow?”

Shocked, Sparrow realized Jareth knew he had been listening and quickly withdrew, embarrassed and ready to defend himself verbally. As he opened his mouth to speak, the odd sensation of the room losing a portion of itself happened again. Sparrow remembered the last time this had happened was just before Jonathon had appeared in the room. He realized the sensation was some form of piercing magic breaching the magical barrier around the room and that they were about to have more company.

Within moments three portals blinked into existence; one above the table Sparrow was standing next to, and the other two by the fireplace. The two parallel lines of the portal’s silver light opened and twisted with their razor edges, slicing the table in half and emitting a High Elder out of each one. They all took one step into the room, one of them stepping over the broken table and kicking a chair out of the way. They were all women, but Sparrow only recognized one of them from the memory trance. They released the portals when they gained entry, and the one standing by the fireplace spoke.

“Elder Jareth, have your ventures been a success?” she asked in a tone that showed little interest in the answer.

Jareth said nothing in response while slowly walking to the center of the room. The High Elders followed him at a distance, their eyes like hawks, the silence palpable. He stood there without moving, silent and brooding in his thoughts as he stared at the floor.

“You almost cut him in half with your blasted portal, Rianna,” he said quietly but with unconcealed anger in his voice.

He spoke soft enough that the High Elders had to strain to listen, focusing much of their attention on his words. At the same instance that he had spoken these words out loud, silent words filled Sparrow’s mind.

Rianna responded harshly to the lack of title used by her subordinate.

“Watch your tongue, Elder!” she snapped, yet as she spoke, Jareth’s words filled Sparrow’s mind with concern and urgency, saying, “Come to me. You’re in danger!.”

Sparrow realized that Jareth had baited the High Elder with the lack of a title to distract her so that he could send a message to Sparrow. Sparrow had no reason to distrust Jareth, and since they were still in this room, he knew what he was saying was true. They had his true name now, or at least Jareth had it, but somehow, knew that wouldn’t be enough for the High Elders. If he went with these magi, he would die.

Sparrow could feel the High Elders watching him as he approached Jareth. He took his place at his side, and Jareth placed one hand protectively on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Sparrow,” he said silently with his mind.

With no verbal communication to distract them, the High Elders heard the mental communication, which seemed to strengthen their resolve.

Suddenly Jareth waved his hand in front of him, just once, and the High Elders’ faces changed from confident determination to stunning realization. Sparrow quickly achieved dai schen and suddenly understood why they were so stunned. All around them, the room held crisscrossing segments of dormant magic via lines, loops, swirls, trip wires, and bars, all interconnected threads of magic spread throughout the room. No matter where you stood, excluding the small area around Jareth and Sparrow, you stood in at least two spells.

Sparrow could see the inactive state of the spells, all dormant, waiting for a word of command to bring them to life. The High Elders around the room opened their mouths to either summon portals to escape or attempt to counter with their own spells, but Jareth was well prepared. With a single word, which sounded remarkably similar to the language Sparrow had spoken in their trance, Jareth activated key spells in the room. These spells instantly set off a chain reaction of magic with a beautiful complexity that was wondrous to behold.

In the blink of an eye, a shield from floor to ceiling encased Sparrow and Jareth, so powerful as to block everything physical, including most sound waves, from entering. The shield was a deep purple which signified it was also tinted to protect their eyes from bright lights. Jareth had thought of everything, it seems. Immediately after the shield spell was triggered, all the spells the High Elders were standing in erupted. Not only that, but the magic from those spells triggered spells close by so that, in seconds, the room was a mass of chaotic magic.

The first thing that hit the magi was an eardrum-rupturing sound wave to dumb them, greatly limiting their ability to cast their own spells. Then the onslaught ensued. Flashes of light bright as noonday sun to a cave bat blinded them. Gale-force winds knocked them off their feet. Nauseous vapors swirled in the air causing massive nausea. Branches of trees erupted from the walls to hold them fast. Swarms of biting and stinging insects attacked them. The floor shook in places, and at least a dozen more spells just as debilitating wreaked havoc on the room. All was concluded with a large sleeping spell, its blue vapors raining down on the magi like a fog.

Sparrow was in contemplative silence after witnessing such an eloquent display of magic. As he took a moment to process what had happened, he felt suddenly reassured in his decision to trust Jareth. All the traps were meant to disarm or incapacitate, not kill. Those with more nefarious reasons for his company would have simply killed the High Elders instead of leaving them battered, bruised, and asleep.

Regardless of the impressive display of power he had just witnessed, Sparrow was not to be fooled. He knew that this much magic and its connected complexity would have taken a large amount of time to cast and prepare, yet he knew the entire ordeal that caused him to be sent to this room only happened the night before, and Jareth was with him the entire night. He must have had help from someone. Knowing now was not the time to ask questions, Sparrow filed these thoughts away and turned to Jareth for instructions on what to do next.

“That much magic will definitely be noticed by someone, probably from the whole castle! We cannot leave this room until that door is opened, and we must open it the reverse of how we entered it. Quick, give me your hand!” Jareth demanded as he started pulling Sparrow towards the door.

The rune they had traced on the outside of the door was also mirrored on the inside. It glowed white and was missing the addition to the rune we had added on the other side. As they came closer to the door, Sparrow noticed something odd about the runes. The unrecognizable scrawls had suddenly taken on new meaning. He allowed Jareth to lead him to the door, but his focus was on the runes themselves. As they approached, he began to recognize the letters as if they belonged to a written language.

The words moved from one line to the next like common, but they flowed right to the left instead of left to right. Sparrow could only understand some of it, and it was much too long to study now, but the main messages were clear. “Power in truth,” “Safety without from those within,” and a constant theme of “backward” or “reverse,” which by itself didn’t make a lot of sense.

As they reached the door, Jareth grabbed Sparrow’s hand to trace the rune together, but in reverse, which would have translated as “closed.” As they completed the rune in reverse, they both waited in anticipation … but nothing happened. Hurriedly, they tried again, but still, nothing happened.

“They must have changed the key on the outside of the door!” Jareth exclaimed as he frantically started to trace the rune a third time. “However, they would not have been able to change the sentence structure of the runes, so it would be something similar to the original interpretation.”

“How much of the runes can you read?” Sparrow interjected, but Jareth mistook Sparrow’s comment for criticisms.

“Apparently not enough to open this blasted door!” he shouted in frustration.

“I just meant that I can read some of the runes now, and there is a repeated theme of things being ‘backward,’ but not in the sense of literally backward.”

Jareth’s knowledgeable mind began to race as he muttered to himself, puzzling out possibilities, waving his hand as if to physically discard ideas. He did this for a few moments, but they felt like hours.

“Maybe it’s the reverse of reverse …” he finally said.

With a small shrug, they tried writing it the same as when they had entered, but nothing happened. After a moment of silence, Jareth shouted excitedly and began tracing a new symbol. The symbol looked nothing like the symbol drawn to enter the room, but with Sparrow’s newfound ability to read the runes, he could see it roughly translated as the spelled-out reverse of the word “open.”

As soon as Jareth removed Sparrow’s finger, all the runes faded to black.

“Finally! Good work Sparrow,” Jareth whispered enthusiastically before leaning towards to door to listen.

With heightened senses, Sparrow could hear voices on the other side of the door saying, “The runes have faded. Prepare yourselves.”

From the frown on Jareth’s face, Sparrow could also see that he had heard the voice. He held his chin in his hand as he contemplated the situation before looking at Sparrow with a smile.

“How about we slow things down a bit?”

Feeling delighted at being asked to help, Sparrow returned his smile and nodded in agreement.

“All right then, I’m going to blast the door open, and at the same moment, I want you to imagine a door is still there and cast the time spell through the door before closing it. Make sure you do it just after I blow the door, or it will also slow down time on this side of the door,” Jareth quickly whispered.

Mentally Sparrow prepared himself by imagining a door standing ajar in place of the inactive rune-covered door in front of him. After a moment, he nodded that he was ready. With minor hand gestures and muttered words of power, Jareth began casting a few select battle spells on them. He cast a bubble of protection around Sparrow to help with any backlash from the exploding door and cast a shimmering, opaque, magical armor around himself. Sparrow assumed this was more of a precaution in case the time spells failed, but he wouldn’t take the time to ask. Jareth cast a final spell, making his arm shimmer green and gold, strengthening his hand and arm.

“Here we go,” Jareth whispered while stepping away from the door.

 He wound his magical green arm and stepped forward to hit the door as hard as possible. The moment his fist impacted, an explosion fractured the door, with a funnel-shaped shockwave of green fire blasting the debris outwards from them. Sparrow cast his time spell as fast as he could and slammed his mental door shut. They were favorably rewarded with the scene of a funnel-shaped explosion of flickering green flames and small rocks barely moving away from them.

As they walked around the debris, they could see five Elders in various positions on the stairs, all spaced out so they would not stand in each other’s line of sight. Jareth did two things that made Sparrow’s respect for him grow and confirmed that he had indeed made the correct decision in trusting the man. Jareth grabbed a rather large piece of rock from the air, deciding it could cause too much damage, and cast it aside. Then he cast a minor deflection shield over the Elder closest to the explosion to help with the rain of rock and fire.

Deciding the rest of the Elders were far enough away from the explosion, they picked their way past them up the stairs to the hallway above. The Elder’s quarter of the castle was initially empty, but turning a corner, they could see castle staff in the hallway with food trays, messages, and laundry baskets going about their daily tasks.

Sparrow noticed that his time spell had also affected them and that they seemed frozen in their slowed version of time. Drawing closer to them, he realized they were all looking in the direction of the explosion with shocked looks on their faces. One of them had dropped a tray, which was slowly tipping sideways as it plunged to the floor. They ignored them as they quickened their pace toward their destination.

At the thought of a destination, Sparrow realized he did not know where they were going. He inquired about their destination as they zig-zagged between frozen students, teachers, and service staff in their hurried march.

“The stables,” was Jareth’s curt response.

Sparrow was just now beginning to realize how large of an area was affected by his time spell.  Just how far was hard to say, but they had walked half the length of the castle by this point, and people were still affected. He also realized it was draining his strength, slowly but surely. Jareth placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked with a small squeeze of encouragement which seemed to help with the fatigue.

When they exited the castle, Sparrow was reminded how early it was as the sun was still rising over the horizon. Looking to the right, he noticed they had arrived at one of the school’s stables. Just outside the stable were two horses saddled for riding, with a woman standing between them holding the reins. Jonathan was perched on her shoulder, and there was a third horse behind them packed with what appeared to be provisions for a long journey. The pack horse was light brown, the smaller riding horse intended for Sparrow was spotted with browns and whites, and Jareth’s horse was black except for a white patch on its forehead. There was something odd about the pack horse, but Sparrow couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He shrugged it off and turned his gaze back to the woman holding the reins. He immediately recognized that she was not human and was immensely powerful in magic. It emanated from her naturally, like it was a part of her heritage rather than a gift or talent which could be developed. She was shorter, with a thin frame, and her hair hung halfway down her back, tied with a simple leather cord. Her hair was pitch black except for two very distinct streaks right next to each other on the left side of her head. One streak was completely white, and the other was the same color as Jareth’s hair. Her complexion was soft and pale, which contrasted sharply with the red robes of the Healing Kentor she was wearing. She had large, piercing green eyes that appeared to shine like a cat’s eyes at night.

“Jareth, I heard an explosion. Is everything alright? I hope you didn’t kill anyone,” the woman said dryly.

Sparrow was so used to people being practically frozen that her sudden talking startled him! After he composed himself, he could see that the horses were also not affected by his spell. He assumed that

“Yes darling, everyone will recover, but you may want to go to the infirmary after this and help patch people up,” Jareth replied. Then addressing the bird on her shoulder, he said, “Everything ready, Jonathon?”

“Yes. I will make sure they can’t portal after you while Marcus and his allies stonewall the council from ordering a ground pursuit. I don’t think the movement is numerous enough to openly disobey the counsel and follow without permission, but you never know. I will meet you in a few days, just outside the warlock village.” Then, with a stomp on the woman’s shoulder, he added, “Make sure you say goodbye to the cow. She deserves a proper farewell.”

There was an awkward silence consisting of Jareth glaring at his brother. The woman, who Sparrow assumed was Izreea, held a long-suffering look as if this treatment was nothing out of the ordinary. The moment ended when Jonathan rubbed the side of his bird face against her cheek.

“Thank you, Izreea … for trying,” he said sincerely.

She reached up with her hand and stroked his neck.

“Good luck, Jonathan,” she replied.

He accepted the touch for a moment, then disappeared.

Taking her hands in his, Jareth said, “Izzy, I’m sorry it-”

She cut him off.

“No apologies, Jareth. I know this is something you must do, regardless of the consequences. You just make sure you prove those paranoid bumps wrong, Elder Jareth,” she said with a small smile, accenting his title.

“Well, I’m no longer an ‘Elder,’ that’s for sure,” he said with a small chuckle.

 Then tears filled her bright green eyes as she softly whispered: “I love you, Geisen.“

Jareth took her in his arms and tenderly kissed her tear-soaked lips. Then he picked her tiny frame off the ground in a firm embrace and whispered, “Always.” Setting her down again, he cupped her face in his “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered.

As their exchange took place, Sparrow became more aware of the strain of the time spell on his body and shuffled his feet to maintain his balance. Izreea must have heard him as she immediately released Jareth and began walking toward him, wiping her tears as she walked. She came to stand eye to eye in front of him and placed her hands on his upper arms. As Sparrow returned her gaze, her eyes changed color until they were a deep black.

In a language Sparrow understood but had never heard before, she spoke.

 “You have a long journey ahead of you, old one. Be strong and take care of the humans, Jareth and … yes, even Jonathan, mean the world to me.”

 Her words carried strength and energy, and soon Sparrow’s exhaustion was gone. As her eyes changed back to their not-so-normal green, she released Sparrow’s arms, walked to the castle’s side entrance, and turned to see them off.

Jareth came to Sparrow’s side.

“Sparrow, you must be exhausted. I’m sorry. Tie off the spell with the highest seal you know. It should give us a few minutes at least before the spell collapses, not to mention that most of them still think we are in the basement,” he said with a forced laugh.

“I’m better now, thank you. I’ll tie it off soon,” Sparrow replied.

Sparrow mounted his horse as Jareth tied the pack horse’s reins to his saddle, then mounted his horse. Turning to look at Izreea, their eyes met, and Sparrow realized she probably had a hand in many of today’s events. As they searched each other’s intentions, Sparrow felt a sense of approval emanating from her, which he was grateful for.

He finally responded to her in her native tongue. “I will take care of them, and thank you … for everything.”

Pleasantly startled at hearing her native language, she laughed and waved as they trotted south towards the city’s southern gate.

As they left the stables and headed down the cobblestone road, Sparrow felt them cross the barrier of the time spell. Looking back, he could see where time was altered and was not based on the wisps of dust that appeared frozen in the wind. Thankfully there were not many people around. Sparrow imagined that if people were on either side of the spell’s invisible wall, it would cause quite a commotion.

Exiting the city was their highest priority, and the school was located closest to the southern gate by design. This gate faced the mountains and valleys from which the Jackals had been banished. It was also the direction in which they would return if they invaded human lands again. This realization was not lost on the local population, resulting in very few buildings being built between the school and the gate. The few people they did see were going about their business, oblivious to the chaos ensuing in the castle’s basement.

The trot to the gate went by quickly but was wreathed in silence. The scattered contact with the local population consisted of a single nod of recognition from Jareth for one merchant and oblivious silence for everyone else. An Elder being shadowed by a student was nothing out of the ordinary in Dule Van.

As they approached the Southern Gate, Sparrow was reminded that it was designed for defensive purposes rather than accommodating travelers. The gate stood barely wide enough to fit a wagon and was crafted with large, solid pieces of metal in a square pattern. The inside of the squares had small spikes pointing outward, bristled with barbs to prevent people from using the gate as a ladder. The gate was controlled on the inside of the wall by a massive cogwheel and pulley system enclosed in a small stone building with a lever sticking out of the wall to open or close the gate. The lever could be removed with a key if the gate needed to remain in one position. The last thing Sparrow noticed about the gate was the feeling of magic. Nothing was visible to confirm this, but the gate felt strengthened somehow.

There were four guards, two on the ramparts above the wall and two on the ground. All of them wore chainmail armor and had swords at their hip. The guards on the rampart above also carried crossbows on their backs. They all wore a blue tunic over their armor emblazoned with the golden crest of Dule Van on the left breast. The crest contained the Runic symbol for “Defender,” placed in the center of a hollow golden circle, with flames cascading outwards, which resembled the appearance of the sun.

As they approached the gate, one of the soldiers detached himself from the wall and started walking in our direction. He had a silver knot on his tunic just over the crest on his chest, marking him as the officer in charge. With a distracted, if courteous nod of hello, the man strode to the side of Jareth’s horse and held out his hand as if this ceremony was so routine it was hardly necessary.

 Only those with permission from a member of the high council or an Elder themselves could pass through the southern gate. Jareth calmly removed a scroll from his robes, confirming his right as an Elder to pass through the gate and handing it to the guard. The guard took a brief ritualistic glance at the parchment, not really reading it, and nodded to his subordinate to open the gate. He then stepped to the side and grunted.

“Safe journey, Elder Bruno,” he said as the other guard walked to the small building to the right of the gate to pull the lever down.

The counterweight did its job, and slowly the gate began to rise. For how heavy it was, the gate rose quite quickly. The moment the gate was high enough for Jareth to duck under while on horseback, he grabbed the reigns of Sparrow’s horse and broke into a gallop towards the tree line. Glancing back, Sparrow could see the gate was still on its way up, and a mystified look was on the face of the officer, but he did not attempt to stop them.

Looking forward again, Sparrow realized they were riding towards a perfect wall of large pine trees at the edge of the desert, stretching out of sight in either direction. The trunks were about two feet wide, and there was a four-foot gap between each tree, just enough room for a horse and rider to fit between. It was obvious that their size and positioning were engineered through magic to prevent wagons or siege equipment from passing through the wall of trees.

Just past the tree line, the vegetation was the sparse cactus and bushes that he imagined would greet the edge of a desert. There were also a few small pine trees growing sporadically, most likely the offspring of the enchanted wall of trees towering above them. As his gaze turned to the path ahead, he could see the thickening vegetation stretching before them, but it would take a day or two to be in the thick of it.

Sparrow decided to break the silence.

“Elder Jareth, I know now isn’t the time, but eventually… I think we need to have a long conversation about what happened today.”

Jareth responded with a hearty laugh.

“I think that is a good idea, Sparrow! There’s a lot we need to go over, and several things I need to ask you. Also, for the time being, please call me ‘Jareth.’ I am confident I am no longer an Elder of the school of Dule Van, and titles are tedious when traveling in uncertain territory. Let’s get as far as we can tonight, and then we can talk in the morning. We only have a brief window to reach the warlocks so they can help us reach the Garden.”

Ask me? Sparrow thought to himself. Up to this point, he thought Jareth had known the details, and he had been the one in the dark.

Sparrow did not know what a warlock or this Garden was, but Jareth had not led him astray yet, so he was willing to wait to ask his questions. Jareth slowed them to a fast walk, fast enough to cover ground but slow enough to not tire exhaust the horses. Sparrow’s thoughts began to roam, imagining the significance of the stone garden.