Totentanz

Book 3 Chapter I: Das Gift

DAS GIFT
German, "the poison"

I shall no doubt have to defend myself many more times today against unwarranted accusations of dying! -- Sophie Hannah, The Monogram Murders

Karandren opened his eyes and promptly got punched in the face.

"I said quick and painless!" Diarnlan yelled. "Do you call strychnine quick and painless?"

"No poison's painless," Karandren objected. He dodged another punch. "Alright, so I confused it with cyanide. So sue me."

Diarnlan punched him again.

~~~~

"So it's settled. We'll meet at my house within an hour of waking up. Let's try not to die too quickly this time."

"I'll raid the headmistress's weapons collection," Karandren said. "Not all of us are lucky enough to have soul-weapons."

Diarnlan muttered something about soul-weapons being more trouble than they were worth and gave Saungrafn a pointed glare.

Karandren looked around at the tree, the lake, and the mountains. "With any luck this will be the last time we have to see this place. We never did find out what it was all about. Where are we, anyway? Heaven, hell or neither?"

"This is hardly the time for a philosophical debate," Diarnlan said. "If we survive you can think about it to your heart's content."

~~~~

By now Karandren was used to the world melting away around him. He opened his eyes and saw his old room again. At once he sprang out of bed, yanked on his clothes, and bolted out the door. He sprinted to the display room where the headmistress kept her collection of ancient weapons. There was a sword in one of the cabinets that was still in relatively good condition.

The bell rang as he opened the door. Its noise covered the sound of breaking glass as he hurled a spell at the cabinet door.

Experience had taught him he could make it to the teleportation platforms before the other students left their dorms. But he'd reckoned without two things: the sword's weight, and his fourteen-year-old self's height.

When he was fully grown Karandren was over six foot tall and strong enough to carry an adult man's corpse from one end of his palace to the other. Right now, on the other hand, he was almost a full foot shorter and barely strong enough to pick up the sword, let alone carry it. He struggled towards the door, clutching it to his chest.

Approaching footsteps warned that the teachers were on their way to the dining room. They would walk right past the display room. Karandren shifted the sword to hold it under his arm and sprinted for the door.

Shouts behind him warned him that he'd been spotted. He kept running even as the sword's hilt jabbed painfully into his ribs.

The first thing I'm going to do is find a spell to turn into an adult, he thought angrily as he ran across the yard and scrambled up the stairs to the teleportation platform.

Behind him the teachers were in hot pursuit. "Boy! Put down that sword! Stop before you hurt yourself!"

Karandren activated the teleportation platform with seconds to spare before the teachers reached him. He arrived on the beach near Diarnlan's house.

Immediately he unsheathed the sword and held it ready to fend off an attack. Nothing happened. The beach was deserted. Diarnlan's front door was open.

Karandren made his way up to it and peered inside warily. His caution was justified. A defensive spell activated as soon as his head crossed the threshold. He leapt back just in time. The spell sliced off his fringe.