Alcingeria Volume Three

Chapter Seven: A Fateful Bargain

Chapter Seven a Fateful Bargain:

Tuesday June 5th 1724

"So, what now?" I asked. "Would you know where to start looking for him?"

"Not a clue," he shrugged. "Wherever he is, it's shielded by magic wards. I've tried to find him in the past, but had no luck. He's probably somewhere in the Grand Chasm, but the place is massive. We'd waste too much time looking for him."

"So we need a lead," I grunted. "Great. I don't suppose you know anyone who could help us?"

"No, sorry."

"I suppose praying is out of the question, too," I muttered. "I don't think I've ever been more stuck."

"You said you could sense her through the bond, right?" He asked. "See what she sees?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't help us much. The best it could do is tell me if we're in the same proximity down there, but that doesn't help if there's six feet of stone between us with no way in."

"How is she now?"

"Still unconscious."

"Can you tell anything else?"

I checked, closing my eyes to concentrate. She was definitely still alive, and I could sense thoughts swirling on the edges of her consciousness. They were mostly of curiosity, but there was a little worry. I felt something else, but not in her mind. It was deeper. I probed a little further, moving towards it, and identified it as a type of magic energy I wasn't familiar with. I cross-referenced it with Minerva's memory bank and found it felt the same as the energy coming off the ice the shaman was summoning. It was Celestial magic.

Slowly, Minerva's thoughts became more collected and she came to after a period of time I was incapable of measuring, time had a way of slipping away from you when you were probing someone's mind.

"She's awake," Packo said.

I could tell she was struggling, likely restrained. I switched over to see through her eyes. She was definitely restrained, belted onto a table. Packo and the shaman were looking down at her, Packo simply observing, but the shaman was touching her. Not inappropriately, he seemed more intrigued than anything else. He touched her red skin, her wings, her sharp teeth, and her horns, which made her jerk away.

"Speed it up, shaman. She could get her magic back any minute now."

Obediently, he stopped what he was doing and instead moved his hands so they were no longer touching her, palms down as white light began to emanate from them. I sensed tangible discomfort from Minerva as she squirmed, though not in pain or fear. It was more like disgust, a natural repulsion to something rather than a fear of it, like a human would steer clear of a garbage heap rather than trudge through it.

"She's reacting to it," Packo said, pensive. "Is that a good thing?"

The shaman didn't react or give any indication he was listening. What was he doing to her?

"Hey, cut that out!" Minerva hissed, thrashing even more but held in place by the belts.

The shaman persisted, lowering his head in concentration but his eyes stayed open. It seemed as though he was looking for something, and wasn't sure where to find it. He began moving his light-radiating hands above other parts of her body, starting at her feet and working their way up her legs, her stomach, her arms, hands, then back over to her chest. His brow furrowed before moving over to her neck, jaw, cheeks, then her head. He stopped there, as though he was about to move on but found something that caught his interest.