The Spell of Undoing by Paul Collins

wolfhound began to growl, she broke contact and ran out of the park to find the raiding party.
    Tab arrived at the square out of breath. With her heart hammering against her ribs, she slid into the nearest shadow. She tried to meld again, reaching out with her mind …
    … then something hit her from behind and she crashed forward into darkness.
     



KIDNAPPED!
     
    Tab woke several times. A buzzing sounded close by, and wind buffeted her. When she tried to move her hands she discovered she was gripped by claw-like pincers. A herb-soaked cloth was strapped around her mouth – that accounted for her drowsiness. Her head nodded and she lost consciousness again. In that brief moment of wakefulness Tab had seen she was hanging from a flying machine. And though she couldn't see the land below, she knew it was a very long way down.

    The next time she woke, she wished she hadn't. The hard bunk beneath her, the harsh lighting, and the metal bars told her all she needed to know. She tried to sit up again, but her head felt as if it had been split with an axe. Her vision swam, and she slumped back on her bunk. She must have fallen asleep because she woke several more times in the night, but each time she heard horrible noises and screams from somewhere nearby. She stuffed her fingers in her ears and curled up tightly, more frightened than she had ever been in her whole life.

    Finally, Tab woke and she knew it was morning.
    She caught brief ‘glimpses’ of the world outside as a series of rapid mind-melds flashed through her brain without any effort on her part: she was a rat poking its whiskery nose cautiously from a jutting drainpipe; a cat prowling a battlement, questing for food; and a hawk-like bird of prey gliding past a filthy, tattered sail that flapped in a light breeze; then she was back inside her dismal cell. With a sinking heart she knew she was on Tolrush.
    Unsteady on her feet, Tab carefully crossed her cell and clutched the bars. She craned her neck to peer up and down the corridor but could only see more cells. The cell opposite hers was occupied, though she couldn't tell by whom.
    ‘Hey, you in there,’ she hissed. ‘Can you hear me?’
    Somebody stirred, sat up briefly, giving her a look of pure terror; it was the boy from her vision. His eyes held such desolation that Tab gasped. Then he buried his face under his thin blanket.
    Keys jangled and she heard footsteps coming along the corridor. Tab moved away from the bars and sat down.
    A guard unlocked her cell. ‘Stand up in the presence of the King,’ he growled. He went to kick her but years of experience in Mrs Figgin's orphanage had given her swift reflexes. She dodged easily.
    The boy-king she had seen in her mind-melding with the rat swept into view. Kull Vladis didn't seem as imposing in the flesh as he had in her vision. He was not more than five years older than her. But there the similarity ended. He was already massively muscled and a monster in the making. His brutal face and small darting eyes revealed treachery and cunning.
    Kull eyed her up and down. ‘Answer my questions and you will live,’ he said. ‘Where is the magicians’ icefire gem?’
    Tab blinked at the boy-king in surprise. Before she could open her mouth, the guard slapped her, hard. Tab grunted in pain, and her ears rang.
    ‘You will answer immediately and truthfully,’ said Kull, bored. ‘I'm told you're the thief who stole the gem from the Magicians’ Guild. You then pursued a fellow by the name of Fontagu Wizroth and were present when the Spell of Undoing was itself undone.’ He paused, and seemed to be mocking her. ‘I have it on good authority that the icefire was not recovered by your magicians. Indeed, no one has seen that particular gem since it was stolen, though the ruins of the slaughterhouse were thoroughly sifted. So let me repeat my question –’
    ‘I don't have the gem,’ said Tab. ‘I –’
    Another blow knocked her to the ground.
    The guard