Chapter 16

Matrim rose to his feet. An exotic bird gave a haunting call that hung thickly in the suddenly clammy air. His eyes were dark. Dark and unreadable, they seemed even more mysterious.
“It was them…” he muttered through gritted teeth. “They did their job well…” Matrim smiled bitterly. “But It is not beyond us. Oh no. This is only the beginning.”
Andrija wheeled about. “It’s gone, Matrim! Who has taken it? Anyone! Did you see them?”
Will and Jane shook their heads dazedly. “It must have been during the fight with the serpent,” Jane choked out.
“I saw nothing,” Matrim agreed, “But I have an idea.”
Though they tried to persuade him, he would not say another word. For the rest of the afternoon, they sat listlessly on the bank of the shimmering pool in a deep cloud of gloom: Matrim brooding beside the weeping willow, Jane sighing and shooting dark looks at the latter, Will staring sightlessly into the water, Andrija quiet and fighting off despair.
When night came, they wrapped up in their faded and threadbare coats and slept beneath the shielding branches of the trees. The stars twinkled far above them, and playful breezes whipped clouds across the face of the melancholy moon.
The wind played an eerie lullaby through the pine trees, and the waterfall’s incessant and rhythmic roaring soothed the dismal tempers of the four. Hope renewed by the thought of a new day, Jane dozed off.
When Dawn fell upon the world, illuminating the sky with her pale pink fingers of light, Andrija yawned and awoke. She sat up and stretched. “Come on, Jane, dear. It’s time to get up and--”
She paused. Beside her, where Jane had been stretched out on the ground, was bare dirt. Jane was gone-- as was her coat and satchel. Andrija stood up, her head spinning.
Perhaps she had gone walking. But with her satchel? That was ridiculous. How could she be gone? She must be somewhere nearby. Andrija walked along the bank towards the weeping willow, where Will was waking. “Where’s Matrim?” Andrija asked casually, looking all about with a desperate light in her eye.
“…I…don’t know…” yawned Will. “Isn’t he around somewhere?”
Andrija’s heart beat painfully, and she looked around once more. “N-no. Will, Jane is gone too.”
Will sat up, his eyes wide. “What? What? When did she leave? Did you see any footprints?”
Andrija shook her head despairingly. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“Jane! Jane, where are you? Jane!” Will shouted-- his hands cupped around his mouth, as he paced back and forth beneath the weeping willow.
Andrija called Matrim’s name until she was hoarse—but to no avail. They were gone.

* * *

Blancshoyc, Skeletos, and Marshivoc fell to their knees in the cold inky black interior of the throne room. After a moment of silence, the harsh voice thundered out over them: “So… you have returned.”
Marshivoc lifted his head to meet the gaze of the Enchanter. “Yes, Milord. We have returned with good tidings.”
The Enchanter rose languidly to his feet and stepped down the black marble steps towards them. Slowly, with the poise of a stately tiger, he reached them and drew himself up to his full height. His face was pale, expressionless, but there was a look in his dark eyes that made the three horsemen break out in a cold sweat. His midnight black hair fell over his shoulders in torrents, nearly the same hue as his dark tunic. A jaunty scarlet belt encircled his waist—in it, a dagger glistened ominously.
His slim, long fingers plucked it from his belt, and he twirled it nonchalantly. “Your news, men?”
Blancshoyc rose dramatically to his feet, threw back his robe, and presented a small wooden box to the Enchanter with a flourish. “The Diadem, Your Highness.”
The Enchanter’s face showed no expression, and he snatched the box from the man. Carefully, he unfastened the latch and opened the lid. The radiance of the Diadem lit up his face with a silver glow. A slow, evil smile creased his face, and his eyes shone with a crazed light.
“The Diadem of Power,” he murmured to himself. Then aloud to his men: “Do you know what powers this small thing of silver and diamonds possesses?”
His eyes flickered over them. Blancshoyc fingered his snow-white beard, Marshivoc blinked his scarlet eyes, and Skeletos rubbed his emaciated hands together nervously.
“This Diadem,” continued the Enchanter, lifting it out of its case and raising it above his head, “gives its wearer complete and absolute power over all! Over all! Do you understand?”
The three horsemen looked dazed. “That means,” the Enchanter roared with malicious glee, “that by placing this Diadem upon my brow, I can control what you believe, how you act, what you feel…”
His voice trailed off, and he looked at them with a sardonic grin. “Oh! You fools… Do you yet understand what you have done? You have given me the very keys to unlock your being… You have given me the power to change what and who you are! I can control you! Yes! And you have done this all to yourself…” He smiled and placed the Diadem back in the small box.
“And still you do not comprehend your error.” The Enchanter sighed and then chuckled. “In the morning, my men, you will come to the throne room for my coronation. And then,” he fingered his dagger, “We shall see…”
The horsemen bowed uneasily and left the room, followed by a hideous torrent of depraved laughter.

* * *

Will stumbled across the grass towards Andrija. “Look what I found, Andrija.” He held out Matrim’s silver dagger. “Found it near the willow tree. Look at the symbol upon the blade.” Will spoke quietly, trying hard to control his anger.
Andrija reached for the weapon. “A snake entwined about the letter ‘E’-- the symbol of the Enchanter’s Army.”
“Matrim deceived us,” Will burst out suddenly. Andrija stared down at the ground, angry and hurt.
“Andrija, we must be sensible,” Will continued. “What do we know about Matrim? Nothing! We only know that by coincidence he fell over the cliff into our cave. Then, somehow, the Enchanter’s Army finds our cave and begins digging down towards us. If it were not for an avalanche, we would be prisoners…no, more likely dead. Furthermore, just think how mysterious Matrim was acting before the Diadem was stolen! Andrija! He was a soldier-- and most likely a spy for the Enchanter’s Army. He did his job well-- he was handsome and witty…and we trusted him. Now look what he’s done.” Will turned his face from Andrija, and his voice grew hoarse. “Andrija, I promised your grandfather—the hermit that I would defend and protect Jane. I am held to that promise, and I must rescue her from the villain.”
Andrija shook her head. “I trusted Matrim.”
“Look at me, Andrija. You must face it. You must accept the truth. Matrim is on the side of the Enchanter, and now…he has kidnapped Jane.”

* * *