The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 9

Iris. Iris. Wake up. Iris.

Iris was cold. So cold. She couldn't feel anything, not even her own body. All that existed was the cold, and the voices whispering in her head. Multiple voices. Voices she didn't know, some with strange accents, some speaking in languages she didn't know, but, somehow, she knew they were all saying the same thing.

Wake up. Iris. Iris.

The whispering was getting louder. It was like the voices were crowding in, closer and closer, blocking out the voices she heard from outside of herself.

"I don't think she's alive."

She couldn't quite make out who was saying that. It was hard to hear over the whispering in her head.

Iris. Wake up. Iris. Iris.

"Does she even have a pulse?"

Wake up. Wake up. Iris. Wake up.

"Yeah, it's there, but it's faint. We need to get her inside."

Iris. Iris. Wake up. Iris. Iris. Iris!

"Char, Rath, you finally decided to show up. What the - is that a human?"

Iris. Iris. Iris.

The whispers were getting louder, drowning out the sudden shouting and cursing on the outside. It was unrelenting. She wanted to shut it all out, stop the noise, allow the cold to pull her down into the darkness where it was quiet. But the voices wouldn't let her. The whispers were shouting.

Wake up! Wake up! Iris, wake up!

She gasped for air, and suddenly she could feel, and she was shivering uncontrollably. The cold had soaked through to her bones. Thousands of ice cold, stinging needles pricked her skin as warmth touched her. The arms under her back and her knees, the chest pressed against her cheek, they burned like fire. But there was a comfortable, soothing warmth, too. She held it in her right hand. It touched her heart, her fingertips, gently flowing out to the rest of her body.

"Char, drop her! The amulet is glowing!" Rath exclaimed, panicked.

"She's using it on herself, not me," Char's steady voice replied, rumbling in her ear. "Look, I'll explain everything - after she's taken care of."

"And she's a mage? Get her out of here!" the unknown voice shouted.

"She's only used her magic to protect or heal. It's never destructive," Char said calmly. "Where do you want her?"

"I don't want her," the unknown man said vehemently. "If all this mess has been because your head was turned by a pretty face-"

"That's not what's going on here," Rath interjected. "I had my suspicions when he first told me about her, too, but after seeing how he handled her last night, I can say without a doubt that she's just a prisoner, nothing more."

"Where do you want her?" Char repeated. "The sooner I deal with her, the sooner you'll have your explanation."

"And that explanation better be darn good. Srot may die because you two decided to go off script again. Thrak, take her."

"No way," another unknown voice said nervously. "I'm not touching a human mage."

"Wait, Srot's injuries were minor," Rath interjected. "Just some scratches between his scales from a few lucky arrows."

"Magic-tipped arrows," the other man said bitingly.

"Just tell me where you want her," Char said exasperatedly.