“I’ve come to tell you that I’m in need of your services once again.”
The king laughed, and indignation filled his tone. “You think that I would help you, when you did not fulfill the first bargain we had? Are you mad?”
“Well, if you mean mad as in angry, then no. But, if you mean mad as in bat shit crazy, well frankly that’s pretty much a given.” Mona’s eyes gleamed with wickedness.
The king regarded her, taking in her behavior. He wouldn’t call it happy, for he could see that she could never be capable of true happiness. He decided that the closest conclusion that he could come up with was that she was giddy, like a child who had gotten into the cookie jar and not gotten caught.
Mona stared into the king’s eyes as she began to chant.
I call on the magic that attempts to leave this place,
You will answer my call to give aid to this race.
You will gather at the veil and pull it wide,
You will not allow it to falter or to hide.
I call you, I gather you, to do my will,
I shape you and form you for the veil, be still.
No other can release you from my care,
It’s only my desire you’re allowed to bear.
Mona turned to the Pixie King, “Give me your hand.”
Ainsel regarded her warily.
“Oh, for goodness sake man, I’m not going to cut it off. The spell requires your blood, a sacrifice, like any good spell.”
He slowly lifted his hand to her and she snatched it. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a knife, and in one smooth motion ran it across is palm. Mona tipped his hand over and let the blood drip to the forest floor. The air around them grew thick with magic and Ainsel’s eyes widened briefly at the ripple he saw appear as if a seam had been cut into the universe. He hated to give her the satisfaction of seeing his relief, but he couldn’t help the wonder that he knew was painted on his face...
“There,” she said, smugly. “I have opened your veil permanently. I have upheld my end of the deal.”
The king wrestled inside with his anger, but also knew that if he did not help her she could destroy him and his race.
“What is it you need?” He finally asked.
She smiled triumphantly as she began to tell him. “The contact who is supposed to help me open the veil to the underworld has, so far, not delivered. I believe he might be planning to betray me. And, since you were so good at tracking down the dogs for me,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “I figured you could handle this with no problem.”
“Who is this contact?”
Again, Mona strived to look bored and indifferent as she picked inexistent lent from her clothes.
“Cypher,” she had barely gotten the word out when the Pixie King choked.
She looked up to see his eyes were saucers and his breathing had become shallow.
“Y-y-you, want me to capture the warlock king?” He stuttered out.
Mona nodded as she stood. Ainsel took a step back as he looked up at her, his mind still reeling over the information she had just dropped on him like a ton of bricks. His shoulders felt heavy with the weight of her request.
“He will never expect you,” she mounted her steed and looked down at the little king. “I don’t know how long it will be until he shows himself to me, but you need to have him in your sights and be ready to take him down if I need you to.”
Ainsel raised his hand to halt her. “How am I supposed to take the warlock king out exactly?”
Mona shrugged. “Be creative.” And, before he could respond she was galloping off into the forest, the trees swallowing up her retreat leaving nothing behind, but the slight disturbance of the foliage she passed.