Max laid on a bed in a bedroom in the palace of Aurumist. He had been there for two days now, with no one coming to see him except someone who would bring him his meals. Golnar had sent Max away after the visit with Griffa. He had told Max he had more things for Max to do, but since sending him away, Max had not been called.

Max worried constantly about Griffa. When he had seen her last, he hardly recognized her. She was gaunt and very pale. Her face was covered in bruises and cuts. Her eyes looked half open and dazed. She hadn’t lost her fire though. Max wished she would just cooperate a little more. He wanted to keep her safe, but she continually angered those around them. Max wished they would have left him in the cell with Griffa. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to be able to remind her how important she was to the kingdom.

Max was treated like the young king by Golnar and the others. He would not tell them differently. He couldn’t imagine what they would do with Griffa if they knew who she was. She would surely not cooperate with them. They would kill her quickly and probably Max as well. Max kept his head down and answered when he had too. He tried not to give away too much, but he would do what he had to do to keep Griffa alive.

Max wondered how much longer they would have to stay there until Ansel would come for them. He knew Ansel would come. Max was surprised it had been so long. He didn’t know how much longer Griffa or even him really had. He supposed Ansel was waiting for a plan or a certain time, but Max wished he would just get on with it.

Max missed life in Abscon. He missed Ansel and Nora. He missed Issa especially. He often wondered what she was doing. Was she reading books to try to help Ansel with a plan? Was she practicing her archery? Was she thinking of him often? He was sure she was. He hoped she hadn’t given up hope. Max hoped she knew he was still alive and well.

Max stretched his fingers, trying to see if he could feel any of his magic, but his magic remained silent. He hadn’t realized just how much he depended on his magic for his senses and his mood, until it was gone. He felt empty and disoriented without the familiar hum of his magic speaking to him. He felt unusually still without the familiar flowing of magic throughout his body.

Max thought about how it felt to touch Griffa’s hand with his own. Even with the special ropes, his magic would come alive at Griffa’s touch. He thought it must be their bond through their mutual Adalwen blood. He supposed their magic spoke to one another in a special bond that was stronger than the spell on the ropes. Max wished they could be alone long enough together to use the bond to their advantage.

The door of the bedroom opened and Philo Quick entered.

“Come on, young king, you are needed,” said Philo.

Max sat up on the bed, turned, and stood up. “Where are we going?”

“Does it matter? You will come wherever we want you to go,” replied Philo.

Max walked to the door and followed Philo down the hall. He took him to Golnar’s room in the tower. Max walked in to find an unconscious Griffa being held up by two soldiers. She stood next to the fireplace that had a kettle hanging over it. Golnar stood near her.

“Good evening, young king,” said Golnar smiling. “I’m glad you could join us. I’ve been working on something all day, but there is one more ingredient I need.”

Philo grabbed Max and brought him closer to Golnar. Max could see something gold bubbling in the kettle over the fire. Whatever it was made Max’s nose burn and turned his stomach. He felt the urge to run as far away as he could from whatever was brewing in the kettle.

“Now, young king, come close to me. What I need from you isn’t a lot, just a little of your powerful blood. It won’t hurt much,” said Golnar holding a knife.

“Don’t do it, Max. You don’t want your blood involved with anything in that kettle,” said Griffa opening her eyes. Her voice was weak. Max could see she was shaking. He couldn’t tell if she was affected by the potion brewing or if they had given her something. It was probably both.

Philo walked over and grabbed Griffa’s face with his hand. “Please be silent unless you are asked to speak. It’s only good manners.” Philo squeezed and then let her go. Griffa closed her eyes and her head went down.

“Come now, it’s just a small slice in your palm and it’s over,” said Golnar. “Of course, if you would rather I take Miss Keene’s, that can be arranged. She is not a king though, so I will have to take quite a bit more from her.”

Max saw one of the soldiers had a sharp dagger.

“No,” said Max quickly. “I’ll do it. I will, just don’t hurt her.”

“Very good, come here and give me your palm,” said Golnar holding out his hand.

Max walked over and put his bound hands out to Golnar. Golnar grabbed Max’s hand and instantly dropped them. Golnar held up his hand to see blisters forming on the surface.

“What is this? What are you doing, young king?” asked Golnar angrily. “Are his ropes not working?”

“They should be,” answered Philo. Philo pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and put them on. He came over and checked the ropes on Max’s arm. He stood back and stared at Max. “They are working, his magic is blocked.” Philo took his gloves off and put them back in his pocket.

“Let’s try again,” said Golnar. He grabbed Max’s hand slowly and again reached back quickly. Max could see that Golnar’s hand was red all the way up to his wrist now with boils forming.

“Philo, you get blood from the boy. Use your gloves,” said Golnar cradling his hand.

Philo put his gloves back on and got the knife from Golnar. He grabbed Max’s hand and immediately pulled away. Philo’s gloves had burned away, leaving red raw skin underneath.

“You think this is funny, boy,” said Philo angrily. He turned to his soldiers. “Cut her throat. Her blood is from old magic. If we get enough, it should do.”

Max saw the soldier raise his dagger.

“No!” said Max loudly. “I will do it. I will. Give me the knife. I can manage it.”

Philo looked at Golnar, and Golnar nodded. Philo gave the knife carefully to Max. “Don’t try anything stupid, young king. I will have her killed faster than you can manage to even cut your ropes,” said Philo pointing to Griffa.

Max took the knife. He winced as he wiggled his hands enough to point the blade at his palm. He pressed down until he cut into his skin. He dragged it down until there was a line of blood in his hand.

“Good,” said Golnar. “Now, come here and place your hand over the kettle. Let the blood mix in with the potion.”

Max dropped the knife and walked over with both of his fist clenched. He put his hands over the kettle and unclenched his fist. His blood flowed down into the kettle, mixing in with the golden liquid. The potion sizzled and smoked. The smell was awful. Max gagged and walked backward, trying not to wretch. The potion started bubbling over the cauldron into the fire below, as great black clouds formed and spread throughout the room.

“What is happening, Golnar?” asked Philo coughing.

“I don’t know, but we need to leave,” replied Golnar using his arm to shield his mouth and nose. “Grab the young king. Have your soldiers get Miss Keene out of here.”

Philo reached out and grabbed Max. He dragged him to the door and threw him out into the hallway. Golnar followed quickly, and then the two soldiers dragging Griffa. Philo closed the door as the smoke slowly made its way through the cracks in the door.

“Let’s go downstairs. We can close off this tower. Take Miss Keene and the young king to the cells. Let them have some time together,” said Golnar looking at Max with disgust.

Max didn’t know why. He didn’t plan on that happening. He did what he was told. Still, he wouldn’t complain. He would be with Griffa for a while. Philo took Max’s arm and led him down to the cells. Max looked back to see the soldiers dragging Griffa behind him.

When they got to the cells, Philo used his hands and opened the bars. He threw Max in. He went to the cell next to Max and opened it. The soldiers half carried Griffa in and left. After closing Griffa’s cell, Philo turned to Max.

“I don’t know how you did that, but there will be repercussions. If you want to keep your friend here alive, you are doing a poor job,” said Philo angrily.

“I didn’t do anything,” said Max. “I did what I was told. I’ve done everything I’ve been told and all you’ve done is torture Griffa. If you are going to kill us, go ahead and do it. I’m done.”

“Don’t ask for something unless you really mean it, young king. Besides, there are worst things than death. I can show you if you keep this up,” said Philo menacingly. He turned to go.

“Have a good evening. I’ll see you whenever you are needed again.”

Max heard the door close behind Philo. He walked over as close as he could to Griffa’s cell and sat down. He leaned his head against the bar and looked at Griffa to see she was stirring slightly. She turned her head and looked at Max with half opened eyes.

“Max,” Griffa said uncertainly. “What happened? How did we get down here? Did they get your blood?”

“They did, but I don’t think it worked. The potion overflowed and made a horrible black cloud that caused everyone to leave. They think I did it on purpose, but I didn’t.”

“That’s good,” said Griffa quietly. She closed her eyes.

“Griffa,” said Max urgently. “Griffa, are you alright?”

Griffa’s eyes opened slightly. “I don’t know, Max. I’m so tired. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I just want it to be over.”

“You can do this, Griffa, you can,” said Max. “You have to for the kingdom.”

“Someone else can lead. You can still be king, Max. I’m not irreplaceable,” said Griffa quietly. She closed her eyes again.

“You are to me,” said Max sadly. “You were my first friend is a strange new place. I know Ansel brought me to Abscon, but it was you who made me feel welcomed. It was use who showed me how wonderful magic can be. I don’t want to go back there without you, Griffa.”

“You have so many friends, Max. You have Ansel and Issa. You will be a great king.”

“No, Griffa, I won’t. I won’t do it,” said Max thinking of something to say to her. “Griffal, think of Ansel. He won’t make it without you. You don’t know what he was like when he thought you were going to die from that poison. He’s going to come for us. He will. You know he will.”

“I don’t know, Max. It’s been a long time. We’ve waited so long,” said Griffa. Her voice sounded far away. Her eyes wouldn’t open anymore.

“Griffa, wake up,” said Max loudly. “Come here close to me, take my hand. You need to be reminded.”

Griffa lay motionless. Max could just make out her breathing slightly.

“Wake up, Griffa, you have to wake up. Come here, now!” said Max even more loudly.

Griffa made a small noise. She raised her head and opened her eyes slightly.

“Yes, now come here, Griffa,” said Max holding his bound hands on the floor slightly through the bars.

Griffa looked at him and then crawled slowly to where he was. She got there and laid down. She moved her hand slightly so that it touched Max’s. Max could feel his and Griffa’s magic meet. It flew through him, making him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Griffa sighed and smiled slightly.

“See, Griffa, there is still hope. Listen to your magic. It’s telling you that you have to go on. You are the best hope for the kingdom. Hang on for a little longer.”

“I’m very tired, Max,” said Griffa.

“Then rest, Griffa. Rest, but don’t give up.”

Max saw Griffa nod. She fell asleep still touching Max’s hand.