Copyright (c) 2006, Lensman. ALL Rights Reserved. lensman@mail.com This story is the sole property of the author. It may be downloaded for private use, but may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites without the author's permission. Sorcerers Apprentice, part 2. Written by Lensman. This story is fictional, all characters and events depicted within are fictional and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. I have one unbreakable rule (to paraphrase Isaac Azimov): I may not harm a Little Girl, or through inaction allow a Little Girl to come to harm. Keep these fantasies where they belong; in your head. Story Codes: (Fantasy, Bond, Rape, Mg(8), Pedo) Story Intro: Olwyn learns of his gift, and we see a little more of the sinister robed figure. Chapter 2, For the few months after his little adventure Olwyn grew more and more restless. Although Master Jaklin was teaching him more about magic Olwyn still felt unsettled, like the old mansion house was no longer his home, but just a place to stay for a while. Also, he was being plagued by odd dreams, it was almost as if he where sleepwalking but there was a wrongness to them, not something he could easily explain even to himself, let alone Master Jaklin. About six months after his return, Olwyn was practising spellcasting with Master Jaklin in the back garden. He had matured a lot in that time and would often be studying and practising, rather than goofing off and daydreaming. He had spent the morning searching every nook and cranny for spider webs and carefully collecting them and was now trying to cast the spell that would conjure webs into a large area. Even with all his practice, and concentrating hard, it was difficult to cast correctly whilst balancing on a plank of wood that was balanced in turn on a log and with Master Jaklin babbling inanely to one side. As could be expected Olwyn failed to cast the spell, unfortunately it didn't just fail and do nothing, the magic twisted out of his grasp and lashed out at him. As he was losing his hold on the spell Olwyn heard Master Jaklin say, "No, no, no, don't try to hold onto it when it slips, just let it go completely and..." he broke off as the magic energy grounded itself through Olwyn's body then exclaimed, "Oh my good gods!" Olwyn felt the magic coursing through his senses, there was a sharp twisting sensation and then he saw the world change. The target Olwyn had been aiming at was growing larger, as was Master Jaklin where he stood to one side staring down at Olwyn. The whole world was getting larger, no Olwyn himself was getting smaller. When his shrinking stopped Olwyn looked up at Master Jaklin as he stared dumbfounded back at him. "Help me master. What should I do?" Olwyn shouted, but all that came out was an excited barking. "In all my days," Master Jaklin said shocked, "I have never seen a spell backfire so spectacularly." He took a deep breath and pulled himself together, "Are you in there Olwyn, or did it scramble your mind as it did your body?" Olwyn realised that talking would be no good so he tried just nodding his head, if he still had a head. It must have worked because Master Jaklin then grinned and heartily boomed, "You are? Good, follow me and we'll soon have you back to your old self." Olwyn wondered how he was supposed to move when he didn't know what he was, or even if he still had legs. As Master Jaklin walked back into the house Olwyn tried to follow and found he was able to move as easily as if he were walking in his own body, it was as if the movement was controlled instinctively. He followed through the kitchen, then through the hall and into his masters' laboratory. As he passed Master Jaklin's scrying mirror Olwyn paused to have a look at himself. He was greatly relieved to find that he was not a hideous monstrosity of tentacles and slime, in fact he looked like a rather handsome dog. He looked like a black Labrador that was just growing out of its puppy phase. He had a jet-black glossy coat over a fine muscular frame. As he watched himself in the mirror he found he had more conscious control over his new body. When he lifted an arm that front paw would lift, or if he lifted a leg a hind paw would lift. He was still practising when Master Jaklin returned, "Come on Olwyn," he gestured for Olwyn to follow him, "let's find out what happened, hmm?" He followed Master Jaklin to the back of the laboratory where there was a cleared space. "You sit there," Master Jaklin indicated the folded blanket he had placed on the bare stone floor. Olwyn obediently sat on the blanket and waited patiently while Master Jaklin busied himself drawing a circle of protection around first Olwyn, then himself. "Don't worry," he said grinning broadly at Olwyn, "this won't hurt a bit." Master Jaklin quickly made the brief gesture and spoke the simple phrase of a magical detection spell. "Hmm," he mumbled while scratching his head, "no residual trace, now that's odd." He hopped over the markings of his protection circle and scurried over to his shelves. He looked up at the untidily stacked mass of books, jars and bottles muttering to himself, "Dragons blood... dragons blood, now where did I put that dragons blood?" After a few minutes searching he exclaimed "Aha! There it is," reached up and pulled down a small clear glass bottle containing a dark red, almost black powder. He continued searching and muttering to himself as he picked out three other small bottles, one filled with leaf green granules, one half full with a white dust while the last looked empty. Master Jaklin returned to his worktop, took a small silver dish from a cupboard and cleaned it with the hem of his robe. He carefully poured a quantity of each of the red powder, green granules and white dust into the dish and slowly mixed them with a small silver blade. He took the dish and returned to Olwyn's circle. He poured the mixture of powders around Olwyn within the circle of protection then knelt in front of him. "I'm sorry about this my boy," he apologised gently, "but I need some of your blood," and held out his hand. Olwyn put his front paw into Master Jaklin's hand who then held it firmly, paused and said "This may sting a little," then deftly used the silver blade to slice into the central pad. Olwyn yelped in pain and tried to jerk his paw back but Master Jaklin's grip remained firm. As the bright red blood welled from the cut Master Jaklin collected a little in the now empty dish. When he had enough he quickly and competently bound Olwyn's paw. Master Jaklin returned to his protection circle and smiled at Olwyn, "Now for the pyrotechnics," he chuckled, "Remember, don't leave your circle, no matter what happens!" Master Jaklin then took from his pocket the last, apparently empty, vial. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth then dripped four drops, of a liquid so clear as to be almost invisible, from the vial into the blood in the dish. After replacing the stopper in the vial and returning it to his pocket Master Jaklin intoned a lengthy string of mystic syllables and dropped the blood onto the powders. At first nothing happened, then the spot where Olwyn's blood had fallen began to glow and spark. Now that it had started the reaction quickly spread around the ring of powders. Master Jaklin rapidly spoke another word of power and both circles of protection flashed briefly. The ring of powders was now enthusiastically spitting sparks and billowing smoke. A thick dark smoke that filled the area of Olwyn's circle but didn't cross the line. When the smoke had completely filled the domed area of protection around Olwyn, Master Jaklin shouted another word of power and all the smoke ignited in a bright flash of light and heat. When he had cleared the afterimage of the flash from his vision Master Jaklin looked over to Olwyn. He could see that, apart from some smudges and scorched fur, Olwyn was fine, still a dog but unharmed. "Damn!" he cursed angrily. He dismissed the circles then retrieved another dish and bottle. He placed the dish in front of Olwyn and poured the contents of the bottle into it. As Olwyn looked up at him Master Jaklin explained, "This is just a healing potion, now drink it up there's a good lad." As Olwyn lapped up the potion Master Jaklin sat staring out the window smoking his pipe deep in thought. As Master Jaklin sat in his own cloud of smoke Olwyn did what any dog would do in that situation, he lay his head on his paws and took a nap. After some hours had passed Master Jaklin removed the pipe stem from his clenched teeth and sighed, "I hate to say this Olwyn, but I don't know what else to try." When he got no response he called, "Olwyn, have you..." but got no further as he stared in shock at Olwyn asleep on the blanket. "Olwyn my boy, you're back!" he shouted enthusiastically. The shout woke Olwyn who looked around bleary eyed. "What?" he said groggily, then he realised he had spoken! He was abruptly wide-awake, he looked down at himself, at his normal human body, and cheered. He jumped to his feet did a jig out of pure joy and ran to Master Jaklin and hugged him, all the while repeating, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" After Olwyn had calmed down a little Master Jaklin shook his head, "I wish I could say I had some part in your return," he said regretfully, "but I didn't. Everything I did suggested your change was permanent." "I don't care how or why," Olwyn grinned happily, "I'm just glad I'm me again." "Tut, tut Olwyn," Master Jaklin clucked disapprovingly, "what kind of sorcerer are you if you don't yearn for the answer to this mystery?" then he smiled to remove the sting from his words. "But," he continued, "we'll continue our research in the morning." * * * * * The large black rat scurried along the base of the wall, it neither new nor cared that it was inside a large warehouse near the docks. All it knew was that it had been following its prey for the past day, the prey that the nagging, incessant presence in its mind kept pushing it to follow. It knew it was close now, it could sense the prey nearby. The rat dashed into the corner and scrabbled up a stack of sacks, from the sacks it leapt to the top of a nearby crate and peered over the far edge. The rat looked down into an open area between the stacks of crates. Despite the lack of light the rat could clearly make out the sleeping form of a small human female with black hair curled up in a nest of blankets. The prey, it had finally found its prey. It steadied itself on the edge for a moment and then jumped down onto the sleeping form. As the rat landed the girl woke with a grunt and then began to scream. There was a bright flash and a loud pop and the girls scream was abruptly cut off as the rat, the girl and the nest of blankets all vanished from the warehouse. Only to reappear, with an equally bright flash and loud pop and the scream continuing, in the middle of a dank dimly lit dungeon. "Silence!" commanded the cowled figure that stood in the doorway. The small girl instantly obeyed trembling with fear. The figure gestured to the two brutish men stood against the wall to one side of the door. "Prepare her," it grated then turned and left. As the figure strode down the corridor, out from the door echoed the screams of the little girl. "No! Don't. Please don't hurt me," she screamed as the two jailers grabbed her arms. They lifted her small struggling body and quickly stripped her of what little clothes she was wearing. They carried her, still struggling and yelling for help, over to a strange table-like structure. It was shaped to take a human body stretched out, a central section for the torso and head with two arm-like sections projecting 90 degrees from the body near one end and two longer leg-like sections at the other end. They dropped her onto the central section and then held her down as she tried to roll off. The girl continued to struggle and scream, the larger of the two jailers suddenly lashed out and harshly backhanded the girl in the face. The girl was stunned, she had never been smacked before let alone such a brutal blow, and she looked at her jailers for the first time. They were both dressed in greasy, dirty leather breaches and shirts. The taller of the two, the one who had hit her, had dark lank hair and a handsome face that was bent in a sinister sneering smile. The smaller had patchy hair with the rest of his head and face a mass of ugly scars. While the girl was still reeling from the blow, the two men proficiently and quickly strapped her to the table. There were two buckled straps to each section, at her waist and just under her armpits on the torso section and a strap each for the upper and lower parts of the arms and legs. When they had securely tightened down the straps the girl came back to her senses and started struggling again. The jailers pulled the girl's legs apart, the table was hinged to allow this, until she was virtually doing the splits, then they locked the leg sections down. The two brutes looked lustfully at her naked spread-eagled body. Although not a word was spoken they seemed to communicate through knowing glances and grunts. "Please let me go," the girl wailed piteously, "I haven't done anything wrong..." The tall jailer began to caress the girl's thigh from knee to hip. He stroked her smooth firm flesh for a while and then moved on to her stretched mound. The girl had never felt anything like that before, no-one had ever touched her there. As he played with her bald little cunt lips and clit, the jailer heard the girl's slight gasp. She had stopped struggling and a blush was spreading down from her face to her chest. The scarred jailer started playing with her nipples causing another slight gasp from the girl. The tall jailer grinned evilly as he unbuttoned his breeches without stopping his stimulation of the little girl's vulva, she had closed her eyes enjoying the stimulation so had no idea what was coming next. The cowled figure was walking down the stairs, returning to the dungeon, when a scream of absolute agony echoed up the stairwell. "Damn!" it cursed. "They'd better not kill her!" The figure stalked into the dungeon quietly, under the cover of the girl's screams, and watched as the tall jailer finished his brutal rape of her. "Having fun?" the figure growled menacingly as it strode up to the table. The jailer quickly jumped back from the abused form of the girl and put himself away. "Get out of here," the figure shouted hoarsely, "I'll deal with you later." The figure looked at the unconscious girl, blood was freely flowing from her torn vagina where the jailers adult organ had forcefully penetrated her immature passage. Sweat glistened all over her body and mixed with the blood welling from the numerous cuts and slashes the other jailer had caused all over her body. The figure reached into a pocked in its robe and pulled out a small potion bottle. It poured some of the contents into each wound and then woke the abused girl and forced her to drink the remainder. As the healing draught coursed through her body the girl gasped at the icy feeling and cool relief from pain. The girl blinked the tears from her eyes and looked up at her rescuer. "Please... Please help me," she whimpered. "Shhh girl," the figure hissed, then made a brief gesture and spoke a mystical word. The girl's eyes took on a glassy sheen as she came under the effects of the truth spell. "What is your name?" the figure asked. "Cynthia," the girl answered woodenly. "How long have you been living on the streets?" "Since the fourth day of Marduk," again she answered without inflection or animation. "Damn," cursed the figure, "only two weeks... not the one then... but I suppose I can always drain her..." The figure cancelled the truth spell with a gesture and said to the girl, "You are not the one I seek, but I am going to drain you of your life-essence." The girl, Cynthia, began her futile struggling again and whimpering, "No, please don't... I haven't done anything wrong." The figure ignored her moaning and continued, "For your life-essence to be at its most potent I have to drain you when you are experiencing maximum pleasure. I promise you, you WILL enjoy this." The figure placed a small ornately etched and inlaid glass bottle on Cynthia, directly over her navel, and commanded, "Cohesum!" The flask then adhered to her skin and no matter how hard the girl struggled she couldn't shake it off. The figure then bent and began to suck and nibble and tongue Cynthia's small nipples. Despite her protests, the stimulation felt good to Cynthia and her nipples were soon standing proud and hard. Suddenly the figure slipped clamps onto her erect nipples and Cynthia cried out as they clamped painfully hard on her sensitive little buds. The figure then moved between Cynthia's spread legs and began rubbing and tweaking her little clit. Again Cynthia found she was becoming aroused by the stimulation, and again as her clit responded and became erect the figure slipped another clamp onto it, Cynthia screamed in pain. "Scream all you want my pretty," the figure chuckled as it gently stroked her face, "no-one can hear you past my magic." The figure took a glass vial of powder from its voluminous robe and liberally sprinkled it all over Cynthia, then chanted a long and complicated occult phrase. The powders sparkled and then coalesced to form a glowing nimbus surrounding Cynthia's prone body. The figure then began to play with Cynthia's plump bald little slit again, it gently stroked and rubbed her nether lips before slowly inserting its forefinger into her newly healed vagina. The figure continued to play with Cynthia's rapidly moistening pussy, pumping its fingers in and out until she was bouncing herself up in time with the thrusts. Suddenly the figure pulled the clamps off of Cynthia's nipples, she gasped at the sudden release of pressure and the returned blood flow caused her nipples to tingle excitingly. The figure continued to pleasure Cynthia, watching the glowing aura surrounding her. As her pleasure increased so the aura would glow brighter. The figure, gauging Cynthia's pleasure from her aura, brought her to the edge of orgasm then stepped back, not letting her have her release. Cynthia moaned aloud in frustration. When she was calmer the figure started playing with her again, and again when she got near to her climax the figure would step back and not let her achieve it. Four, five, six times the figure brought Cynthia to the edge but not over, and each time Cynthia's moans and whimpers of frustration grew louder and her aura glowed brighter, but not knowing there was more she didn't say anything. Then on the seventh time, as Cynthia got close again, the figure quickly removed the clamp on her clit. The figure quickly spoke one word, "Lego!" then started to suck and nibble on Cynthia's throbbing clit and pussy lips. The burn of the blood flowing back into her clit and the added stimulation of it being licked and sucked caused Cynthia to plunge headlong into her first full-blown orgasm. The pleasure exploded from her loins and washed over her in glorious technicolour waves almost taking her consciousness with it. Unnoticed by Cynthia, the glowing nimbus that surrounded her had contracted and was slowly siphoning into the bottle like a cloud of vapour, as it passed through the neck of the bottle the cloud twisted and changed and then dripped to collect, as a glowing liquid, at the bottom. Cynthia's orgasm continued to ebb and flow through her body as the figure continued to suck her clit and pump a finger in her pussy. Finally her orgasm faded leaving Cynthia feeling exhausted and drained, as if she had been running all day. Cynthia watched through heavy lidded eyes as the figure grasped the now full bottle, said "Liberatio!" and pulled it from her body. The figure then lifted the bottle to where its face was shrouded in shadow within the hood of its robe, tipped it up and drained it of its contents. "Hmm... that's better," the figure said with a much more youthful tone of voice. "Please..." Cynthia mewled, "please let me go." "And why should I do that?" the figure chuckled as it ran a fingertip from hip to armpit and back again. "You are a powerful mage," she pleaded weakly while tears dripped from her face, "you can make me forget so I can never tell..." "Or I could kill you," the figure stated, "then you could never tell either... but I am feeling generous, so..." The figure trailed off as it began to unbuckle the straps holding Cynthia down. It picked her up and gently carried her to the place she had appeared, retrieved her clothing and dressed her. The figure then scratched a strange rune on Cynthia's forehead with a nail, pressed its thumb on the rune and whispered a string of mystic words. As the spell completed, and tore from her mind the memories of the last few hours, Cynthia fainted. The figure laid her down then conjured her back to the nest in the crates. The following morning Cynthia awoke feeling strangely tired and aching all over her body. She had had enough, nothing her father wanted could be as bad as this, sleeping in bolt holes, evading the city guard and never having enough to eat. She packed up her meagre possessions, stealthily made her way out of the warehouse and returned home. * * * * * Olwyn awoke refreshed bright and early, he washed and dressed before running downstairs and into the laboratory, only to find Master Jaklin had already beaten him there. "Ah Olwyn," Master Jaklin called to him from where he was struggling to move the large scrying mirror, "you're up at last, come and help me with this thing." Between them, with much grunting of effort and scraping of the floor, they managed to move the heavy mirror to the area they had cleared the day before. "Let's just 'see' what happened to you, hmmm," Master Jaklin chuckled. Master Jaklin concentrated for a moment, then spoke a long and complicated set of magical phrases. The mirror's surface glowed briefly before rippling, like it was made of water. When it smoothed out again it showed the laboratory with Olwyn and Master Jaklin standing in front of a large wooden frame. An expression of wonder could be seen on Olwyn's face and an expression of satisfaction on Master Jaklin's. Master Jaklin chuckled and said, "Watch this." He then grasped Olwyn's wrist and lifted both of their arms into the air. Within the mirror the images of Olwyn and Master Jaklin could be seen to do the same action. Master Jaklin released Olwyn's wrist and explained, "I am scrying on us now, so the image we can see is 'live' as it were." Olwyn started waving his arms about and cavorting on the spot, watching his image in the mirror do the same. "Olwyn..." when he got no reaction Master Jaklin repeated a little louder, "Olwyn! Stop dancing about and listen." Olwyn stopped prancing about and contritely said, "Yes master?" "Olwyn, I want you to concentrate," he said seriously, "what do you feel?" Olwyn settled his thoughts as he would when casting a spell and "felt" as well as he could. To his surprise he could sense something. An unease, a faint unsettling feeling. "Yes master," Olwyn said in amazement, "I can feel something... but..." "A vague sense of unease, of being watched," Master Jaklin prompted, "that is because you can sense the scrying," he smiled, "now let's see how you acquired your little problem." Master Jaklin spoke a single command word to the mirror, and then watched as the mirror clouded over for a moment before it began to replay the images it had shown previously, but in reverse. It silently played back through their conversation, then as Olwyn concentrated, then as he was cavorting around, and as Master Jaklin ran through his long and complicated casting process. "As you can see," Master Jaklin explained to Olwyn, "at this speed it would take a week to watch a week backwards, and we don't have that much time so I'll speed it up somewhat." Master Jaklin commanded the mirror again with another long and complicated mystical phrase. The images began to speed up, as Olwyn rapidly ran backwards out of the laboratory and up the stairs. The point of view shifted to always remain centred on Olwyn as he reversed through his ablutions and climbed into bed. The images continued to accelerate until they became a blurred rainbow smear. As Olwyn watched fascinated, the blurred image suddenly returned to crystal clarity. It showed Olwyn in bed, presumably asleep, change into the dog then get up and jump down from the bed, rear first. Olwyn realised it was still showing the images in reverse, so he had been a dog that had jumped onto the bed then changed back to his normal form. The mirror continued to show Olwyn, as the dog, pad round the room in reverse, apparently sniffing everything, then jump onto the bed (reversed jumping off) work his way under the covers and then change back into human form. The images then accelerated again to blurred high speed, and then almost immediately slow to normal again and showed Olwyn's escapade as a dog when he miscast his spell. The mirror showed similar nighttime transformations a number of times until Olwyn exclaimed in wonder, "My dreams!" "What about them?" Master Jaklin asked. "For the past few months," Olwyn explained, "I've been having these strange dreams. As if I was sleepwalking but different." He grinned, happy to have an explanation at last, "The difference was I was too low to the ground, I was a dog not dreaming!" "And how long have you been having these dreams?" asked Master Jaklin. "I'm not sure," Olwyn replied thoughtfully, "a few months I think. "Then this could take some time," Master Jaklin chuckled, "and I for one could do with some breakfast." He then bustled off to the kitchen to start cooking. Olwyn continued to watch the mirror while breakfast was being prepared. He was mesmerised, watching the many nocturnal transformations that happened to him while he slept unknowing. The amount of blurred time between clear images varied with no apparent pattern, sometimes they would last barely seconds, meaning consecutive nights, and others would be minutes long, meaning weeks between changes. Soon Master Jaklin returned with a hearty cooked breakfast that he and Olwyn began devouring as they continued to watch the mirror. They had finished eating and Olwyn was cleaning and tidying the kitchen when he heard Master Jaklin shout, "Olwyn, come here! This could be it!" Olwyn rushed in to see himself in his dog form lying curled on a blanket in a camp surrounded by trees. They watched him get up, wander around the camp then return to the blanket, lay down and transform back to human. The image barely flickered into motion before it cleared again to show Olwyn in human form briefly before changing to dog form. He was lying surrounded by his camp equipment in a small clearing. The image remained the same for a while, and then suddenly the scene around him shifted while he remained unchanged. Olwyn the dog was now lying in a different clearing dominated by a large golden oak tree. They watched as Delia the dryad stepped backwards out of the tree, glance over her shoulder at Olwyn and shuffle back to his dog body. She knelt beside him, briefly stroked his fur and then placed her hands on his head. The image briefly blurred as it accelerated again but Master Jaklin barked a quick command at the mirror and the image cleared and began to replay the scene forwards again. The scene showed Olwyn and Delia lying together naked, with his clothes strewn about them. They appeared to be having a conversation, Delia held out her hand and something dropped into it, which she then gave to Olwyn. The image showed Delia sit up and climb onto Olwyn's waist, as they continued to talk she leant over him and took his head in her hands. Olwyn and Master Jaklin watched as the mirror showed a halo of light spring up around Delia. They saw the halo get very bright and begin to swirl around Delia like a tornado. The light picked up Olwyn's scattered clothing, as each piece was picked up it vanished only to reappear on Olwyn's body, magically dressing him. When the swirling magic had reached its peak it funnelled into Olwyn like water down a plughole. Olwyn and Master Jaklin stared in astonishment as the image of Olwyn began to glow with the magic power being channelled into him. As he absorbed the magic so Olwyn's body changed, it shrank and grew long hair as it changed into the form of a dog. When the transformation was complete the magic light shut off like it had never been, leaving Delia kneeling beside Olwyn in dog form. She stroked him a few times and said something, then stood and shuffled unhappily to her tree. She looked over her shoulder briefly to take a last look at Olwyn then stepped into her tree melding with it effortlessly. "Well," Master Jaklin sighed and he dispelled the scrying spell, "I would say that that was the source of your current predicament, wouldn't you?" Olwyn nodded open mouthed, stunned at what he had just witnessed. "Can you remember that?" Master Jaklin looked at Olwyn with concern plain on his face, "did you offend her in some way?" "Yes... what?.. no!" Olwyn faltered, "I mean, yes I remember it clearly and no I didn't offend her..." He paused to collect his thoughts, "at least I don't think so... she said she was giving me a gift..." Master Jaklin grasped Olwyn's shoulders and looked into his eyes, "Try and remember 'exactly' what she said!" "Umm..." Olwyn closed his eyes and thought hard, "she asked Father Oak and Mother Goddess to grant her a boon, a gift for me," he smiled in triumph at his master. "A gift of the gods!" Master Jaklin whispered in awe, "this is not something lightly removed," he thought for a moment, "however you need to learn control over this power, and that is not something I can teach you." Olwyn looked shocked and frightened, Master Jaklin chuckled at his expression, "Do not worry, you were coming near to the end of your apprenticeship with me anyway. It would soon have been time for you to experience the world outside this small province." He smiled fondly at Olwyn and then brightened, "I have an idea," he exclaimed, "I shall send you to a friend of mine in Balmora, he should be able to teach you more control over your gift than I ever could." * * * * * Jen awoke abruptly, she kept her eyes closed and remained quiet, trying to act as if she were still sleeping, and listened. She wasn't sure what had woken her up; she just had this nagging feeling... a strange sense of being watched. Not being able to hear anything out of the ordinary Jen cautiously cracked open an eye and peeked through her lashes. The previous evening Jen had squeezed through the boards incompletely blocking a broken window to the cellar below a tavern in the poorer section of the city. She had used this hideaway only a few times before because the cellar was used and there was a greater chance that she would be spotted here than in some of her other nests, but it was the nearest one at the time so she took that chance. At first she didn't see anything out of the ordinary in what she could see of the cellar, the dim light of dawn was reduced to thin beams of grey light by the boards and dirt on the small window, but there was enough light for Jen to see by. She quietly rolled over and knelt to peer over the rim of one of the bottom barrels of the stack she was hiding behind. She was still unable to see anything out of place so she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her blankets. She was so surprised she almost yelped when she turned to see a black cat sat on the windowsill staring at her with wide yellow eyes. Jen stared at the cat for a moment then shook herself, "No, it couldn't be," she thought to herself, "you're imagining things girl." She shook her head and reached down to pick up her discarded blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders again. Since the sun was up she decided it was time for her to go, she quickly and quietly dressed for the day and prepared to leave. When she glanced back at the cat it had gone, so she quickly clambered up to the window, checked there was nobody outside and then wriggled and squirmed her way through the gap out onto the street and away as fast as she could without drawing attention to herself. * * * * * The room was decorated with light pastel shades, the thick velvet drapes were pulled back allowing the dawn light to flood into the room. One of the pair of French doors was open letting in a cool morning breeze redolent with the fragrances of the flower garden. Near to the middle of the room stood a small round oak table with a large fine white porcelain bowl sat on it. Sat on the edge of a chair, staring intently into the bowl, was a young beautiful woman bathed in the warm golden glow of the dawn light. She had long lustrous midnight black hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. She was wearing a scarlet silk gown that hugged her lithe figure like a second skin, the tight bodice displayed her pert breasts magnificently. As she shook herself in frustration her hair shifted to let the point of her ears peek out, this along with her finely chiselled cheekbones and almond shaped dark brown eyes, clearly displayed her Elven ancestry to any who saw her. Again she scowled at the bowl where the smooth liquid showed the image of a dimly lit dusty cellar, empty of all activity and life except a black cat. She sat back, closed her eyes and composed herself, and then sought out the knot of sensations and feelings within her mind and concentrated on expanding them and bringing them close. She opened her senses to those of her familiar and joined it watching the sleeping form of the girl they had been following for some time. They watched as the girl knelt to look over the barrels she had been sleeping behind and then turn and notice their shared body. As the girl busied herself with dressing the woman directed the cat to hide but to keep a close watch on the girl and to continue to follow her, she then slowly disentangled her thoughts from those of her familiar and reopened her own eyes. She casually dismissed the useless scrying image from the bowl and strode from the room. As she briskly pulled open the door the pair of guards just outside it jumped to attention and saluted smartly. Ignoring the guards, and their admiring glances at her tight silk clad bottom, the woman strode down the richly decorated corridor. As she turned the corner she spotted Magdalene, her seneschal, stood impatiently waiting outside the audience chamber door with her arms loaded down by a multitude of papers and scrolls. The door was also flanked by a pair of guards in their spotless uniforms, black leather breeches and carmine doublets covered with a polished steel breastplate. They each had a long sword on their belts and a halberd held vertically before them, neither guard moved, they hardly dared breath, as their liege approached. "Another long day ahead Maggie," the woman in red grumbled. "Yes m'lady," Maggie replied curtsying politely then started sniggering, as she couldn't contain her mirth. "Stop it!" the woman in red scowled in mock severity, "or you'll have me at it, and how would it look then?" She smiled warmly, "They already think me mad, what would they think if I started laughing as they presented their cases, hmm?" She shook her head grinning, then pulled open the door and bowed Maggie through it before her. As she pulled the door closed behind her she resigned herself to another day filled with meaningless trivialities presented by people who thought their minor problems were anything but trivial. Author's Note: If you enjoyed this story, and or have a comment or suggestion to make, please email me at lensman@mail.com All emails are welcome and will be responded to if a return address is used.