*back*

The few scant days that Weyland had to work out what to do about the last two, very powerful, curses was spent frantically scouring the library again. He would ask Kell questions about what wording she might remember. Which curse might be broken by what means was a mystery to her - she'd only been their curse-catcher, not privy to having them lifted off her.

But it was barely enough. After one week, even though the stars said that it was far from Kell's 18th birthday, Kell started to feel woozy more often. The bitter taste of that last strong curse that Carnos had stung her with was resting in the back of her throat.

She didn't know what it would do, though. She knew only parts of it had been tested on her before, and they wore off. But this was something far more deadly, she knew.

She would surely die, if they were to be brought to the surface, even though there were only two of the five left. (The remnants of any other curses drifting on her had been swept away by the students - one of whom had a terrific eye for such things and was greatly rewarded for his work.)

It was in this week, a precious touch of fingertip to cheek to move away tears led to passionate kissing, and to an almost desparate lovemaking. Kell thought it was the most exquisite thing in the world, and she knew that Weyland hadn't held anything back from her. But both of them knew that this might be the first as well as the last time they would be together.

Neither of them hid their relationship from the students, why should they? Rumors would fly as they will, and among a large group of teenagers of varying experience, it was better to have everything in the open. That seemed to be the best idea, anyway.

Too bad that didn't last.

"What do you think you are doing?" Said a voice, deep and booming, behind Kell. Weyland looked up from his work, across the room, and paled. Kell didn't move.

It was Lord Empal.

"Why is this girl here?!" He bellowed, grasping her on the shoulder tightly, and turning her around to face him - to confirm his worst fears. "She was not to be brought back, not by the likes of you - how did this happen?"

He tossed Kell aside, and made his way toward Weyland, who skittered away almost comically behind the desk, rushing over to Kell. He stood bravely between her and the Lord, even though the older man (or, the seemingly older man, Kell was never sure how old Weyland really was since he kept dropping hints about the castle and such) towered over him.

"You've got your deal," Weyland said, darkly. "We know about that. You know what things they were doing to her there."

"What things they do to her," Lord Empal reminded his court mage, "are part of that deal. They prevent, or ought to be preventing, any other form of attack from that part of the countryside."

"Then explain the raids on Westerdell," Weyland spat, "a month after she was taken, that little village could do nothing to protect itself from the Keep's forces. She'd been there long enough to seal that deal, Empal," Weyland was quite angry. "And then just three months after that - one of my contacts in Valebrook lost his entire stock of herbs to another firestrafing run by their mounted men - another place your Lordship apparently is meant to protect from the Keep." He looked to be about to start another spat, explain another attack, when Lord Empal straightened.

"I see. Well, perhaps it's all for the best." He waved his hand. Kell doubled over, a knot in her stomach blossoming into a bright pain. She suddenly saw a whole new aura around the Lord. Instead of its subtle rippling of shades, it was a vibrant red-black, ragged, raging. He'd been hiding it, expertly, from everyone for who knew how long. It left a burning afterimage on Kell's mind's eye, and a foul taste in her mouth.

The Lord walked away leaving Weyland and Kell in the study - the students were across the hall and unable to hear Kell's wimpering cry.

"Hurts -- Wey-weyland, it hurts so much," she said.

The pain crept up, from her stomach and into her spine. There, it dwelled for a moment, and finally shot out through Kell's skin. A bright point of light, sickly green, crawled about the back of her neck, and Kell began to scream wildly.

She couldn't get her head to straighten, it was as though the curse had pushed her head aside. In fact, it was as though it was pushing her whole body aside.

Something was forming on the back of her neck. It had plastered her hair down in a horrific wet mess. Foam bubbled out apparently from her skin. A dark shape began to show, just as three of the students ran into the room.

Weyland held his hand up, warning them away, but they came forward anyway. "What can we do," asked one, breathless and staring at the thing on Kell's back. It looked rather like an insect trying to free itself of its tight coccoon.

Kell was trying to yell, but nothing was coming out. She'd completely lost her voice, and was now struggling to breathe. Weyland held her up, but was having trouble keeping away from the monsterous thing rising out from her.

He turned to the students. "Get the others - all of them. You're to assemble here and contain this, you all know that spell. Together you ought to be able to do that." He turned to another of the trio, "in my study there is a black canister, near the large taber. Bring it to me, and prepare to help the others."

They bolted away, and the shining green of the curse creature began to take shape.

It was a demon, perhaps stronger than one which Weyland had ever seen. It had been packed away inside Kell, and was waiting this long - so long - for release. It would be quite angry, especially since its arrival was delayed. That would upset everything.

But Weyland was angry as well. The boy who'd gotten the canister returned first, shortly before twenty some students arrived with their wands at the ready or their hands glowing - there were so many different ways to cast any given spell.

Weyland took the canister, and opened it. Inside it had a small vial of something. "Get ready to cast," he announced, the demonic shape had all but broken free of Kell's back.

Kell wasn't breathing. Her body had gone almost entirely cold and was covered in moist sweat. The back of her neck wasn't technically 'cut', but it had a line of blood dripping from where the demon's fierce ragged tail finally exited.

"NOW!" Weyland yelled, and the students as one performed a hex that pitted their sizable will against this one rather confused and newly reborn demon. It shrieked, throwing sparks and green energy around - to little avail. Twenty three forces against itself, some stronger than others.

One, a younger girl that Kell would have said was the strongest witch among them, twisted her wand in the air, and scowled. "Begone," she hissed.

The demon turned in its glowing golden-yellow prison, twisting around, and shrieked. Its feet and tail shrank away, a whirlpool into nothingness. Before long, it was gone entirely. Their spell had succeeded.

But Kell lay in Weyland's arms, quite dead.

He gasped 'no' between each panting sob, and his hands fumbled with the vial. He tried to clear his head, his hands moved more quickly. Then, with the vial open and Kell's vacant eyes staring up at the stone ceiling, a trickle of blood coming from her dry mouth, Weyland began to incant something.

Three of the students ran from the room, having guessed what he was about to do, while four more had passed out from the exertion of containing the demon. Several more were on guard for Lord Empal. The rest watched without saying anything.

Lord Empal had come back to the room, barely in time to see the demon destroyed. He said nothing, but watched over the heads of all the students left in the room. His face was far from expressionless. A deep, great hatred stood on his eyes. The students still left with any energy in them gathered between the Lord and the rest of the room.

Weyland chanted in an old, old tongue. He placed the vial, a thick red liquid coming from it, over Kell's lips. It struck her tongue, slid down her throat. Nothing would stop it, but she could hardly swallow it consciously.

Half a moment later, Weyland's chant finished, he clutched at Kell's body and rocked with it, hoping that it was not quite too late.

***

It seemed like an eternity, the next few minutes. Empal's eyes narrowed as he stared at the students, but they met his gaze with steely expressions of their own.

Weyland barely noticed, but Kell's body moved. He backed his head away from her shoulder, and her eyes snapped open - red rimmed, their pale grey-blue irises the most impossibly thin sliver around her huge pupils. She gave off a hissing sound, as air escaping from her throat tried to form into words.

Screaming was her first sound, but it did not last long. It was hardly what anyone might expect. She calmed down so rapidly that even Wyland was worried. Would it continue to work? Was this right?

Kell relaxed in his grip, rolled to her feet, and stood up staring the whole while at Lord Empal.

"You did this to me," she said, darkly. "I came to you for help and you did this to me." She stepped toward the group, and they parted for her. Weyland stood, staring at her blankly. There was a deep stain down her back, where the demon had risen.

Lord Empal said nothing. He allowed Kell to approach.

"Everything that I read, whatever happened to that man? In the perfect castle, with the loving wife?" Kell glowered, and Weyland knew what she was going to say. He wasn't sure he wanted to try stopping her. "And a son - oh yes, a son who vanished without a trace some years back. Who lays in the dungeon with his power spread so thinly over the castle that he can't even dream of waking." Her voice carried through the silent room. "You did that to him, too. Sent him to Carnos at that horrid Keep of his, and you made him into a tool! Was that what you'd do with me?! Make me into a tool?"

"You were a simple bargaining chip, ironically arrived at just the right moment in time to be of any use whatsoever. Why else would you have been allowed to live?" Empal said, and the students didn't dare even mutter to one another. Now that his powers were exposed, those of a strong blood-mage, they knew that he could crush any one of them if they stood alone.

"You are a monster, and monsters need to be destroyed," Kell said, finally and flatly. She was not emotional, not crying, not yelling.

"So you would fight me? In my own castle?" Empal almost chuckled, but then he realized that ... Kell was still dead. It was why Weyland was shrinking away from her, instead of embracing her and marvelling at her 'recovery'.

One cannot kill a revenant, not in conventional ways, and Empal knew that. He narrowed his eyes and said, "fine. When you are ready. We shall duel to the death."

"Sounds fine with me, outside. Ten minutes." Kell announced. That seemed to take Empal by surprise.

He chuckled and turned. "Ten minutes it is. Weyland, you might want to coach the creature on handling a wand, before she comes outside."

*next*