Inkway to Albreton

Chapter Twelve

When Fragmaroginog first placed the spell on Castle Albreton, he had cursed the mote surrounding it so that anyone intending to reveal his double-crossing nature to the King would be swept into its current and morph into a voiceless, unsightly creature such as an eel or a gulping, floundering fish. He remembered clearly the artifact he had used to cast that spell, an iridescent fishy thing nearly two meters long that pronged into two bits and flared at one end, the other side a stubbly, bloody plateau where he had cut it from its owner. Mermaid tails were as rare as they were potent, and illusions were their specialty. He wondered what other magic a mermaid's tail might carry, considering the mote had subsequently morphed into an inter-kingdom portal without any specific intention on Fragmaroginog's behalf.

There was still much the wizard did not know about artifacts, never mind the fact that he was the most powerful, influential being ever to walk the Earth. It was one of the reasons he hunted them so voraciously.

He would hunt Lindargra voraciously, too. The little twat had caused him enough trouble. From informing the Dragon Queen about his first possession of Kurventhor to outright warning the King of Myriad's advisor about his upcoming betrayal—not that the warning was heeded, Fragmaroginog thought to himself smugly—Lindargra had been interrupting every aspect of his plan from the very beginning, from when she had first broken out of his company and taken the baby dragon they had been hunting together along with her. She needed to learn her place. She was only a peasant woman, an orphan he had pulled off the streets of his crumbled home kingdom near the swamps back before he discovered wizardry. She should act like what she was, a throwaway.

Honestly, Fragmaroginog couldn't think of a better time to exact his revenge, being stuck in the body of Lindargra's familiar. And once she was out of the way, he could charge through the rest of his plan, find the key to the lands beyond the swamps and unleash enough monsters to provide artifacts for every citizen of every kingdom, and then some. He would hunt their hides and hoard them like dragons. He would pillage their dens for magical gems. He would rip the hearts out of the most desirable prey and display them on a mantelpiece guarded with root magic.

That was another thing he would do well to remember. He had still not found the true heart of Castle Albreton, the center of the maze in its dungeon, past the Hall of Truth where he had kept Enkaiein enslaved. A vine, it was said, rested somewhere inside the castle, morphing the corridors in its eternal protection, but the only thing resembling vines were the curious blue markings inside the Hall of Truth, and when Fragmaroginog had first examined the room, all they did was swirl away from his touch and nothing more. They didn't give off any thicker magical energy than a common winged pixie, not nearly enough to bend an entire castle around an intruder.

But that was a task for another day, one after he had taken care of his most prevalent adversary. So Fragmaroginog went, through the Icy Mountains, across the plains before the castle and into the mote, directly. With soggy, lopping fur he found himself clawing up from the milky white water and onto a mound of blackish dirt. He shivered, groveled and stretched. He felt like a rag, soaked and limp, but a devilish sneer crossed his features when he laid his eyes upon the crow.

"Cat!" It squawked, launching from its nest, a small tumble made of grey straw, and into the air to circle above. "Cat! Cat! Cat!" Its voice shrieked against the open air.

At first Fragmaroginog thought it was cawing a warning or an alarm, but then a dark cloud rippled through the sky like charcoal and out from it Lindargra descended.

She landed on the ground dressed in the wisps of the cloud and said, "Hello, Cat."

"Hello Lindargra," bit Fragmaroginog. He couldn't help the spite in his voice. It tasted too much like a welcome curse and he reveled in it. His whiskers twitched.