Arrabella Candellarbra. A.K. Wrox
Читать онлайн книгу.
only mean goodliness was upon them; and Champion-like goodliness at that.
As midnight blue and tangerine sparks flew in all directions from anywhere the Warrior Chick and her luscious Lord made contact, it was clear to all that Arrabella and Langley were both, in fact, the Chosen Ones.
Several of the not-so-good in the crowd took to their heels and ran off - some in fear, some in disgust; while others, loyal to Betty-Sue, hung their heads low and shuffled away in embarrassment.
Those who remained fell to their knees in a pledge of allegiance to this rather virile and pretty young couple, who would soon have power over life and death, and all that blossomed in between.
The wizened and hunched Gary the Wise stepped forth, again; with a flourish. He bowed deeply. 'My Lord, My Lady, I hereby pledge my loyalty to you now and forever more. If it pleases you, I ask that you accept my offer of guidance and whatever protection I can afford you.'
Arrabella curtsied in return, showing her respect for the man whose name had been legendary in her teachings. 'Sir, we would be honoured to have you accompany us. Your wisdom would be of the greatest value.'
Arrabella reached out her hand, welcoming Gary the Wise into her little gang. As he stepped toward the luscious twosome, he too became engulfed in the glorious light that obviously signalled their worthiness.
'Ooh, my turn,' said the dandy little Prince of the Fey as he pranced toward them. Barely sharing a glance with Arrabella, his eyes drank in every inch of Lord Langley's substantial and oily frame; lingering longingly on the meagre loin cloth.
'My Lord, I shall willingly follow you to the ends of the universe,' he cooed. 'Is there any way I can be of service to you?'
Arrabella nestled into Langley's bulky yet glorious frame possessively, and stared at the forward little fairy, making it quite clear with her blazing vermillion eyes that her Lord would not be requiring those particular services.
Langley, with a grin spread right across his face - both from the compliment paid by the fairy's attention and the jealousy exhibited by Arrabella - addressed Jim formally. 'Prince Jim, you honour us with your pledge. We would be most grateful.'
Langley nudged Arrabella gently with his elbow and, dutifully, she nodded at the Fey prince.
As Jim jigged into what was now a group, the light swayed and shimmied in celebration and then winked-out as if indicating that Four on an adventure would be enough.
'All hail the Chosen One,' called the booming voice of the only remaining giant.
'All hail the Chosen One - or Four!' agreed all manner of folk from all the present-and-accounted-for magical communities, in a cacophonous chorus of charismatic creatures.
All the creatures except one, that is. One simmering sorceress with a petulant pout and the stomping foot of a tantruming two-year-old tempest.
'Noooooooo!' screamed Sally-Ann as she glared, and glared again, at all the Chosen Ones; her wand-hand at her side, ready to throw an incantation or two their way.
Arrabella knew that no matter how bad or sad, Sally-Ann wasn't completely mad - and, unlike Betty-Sue, wouldn't dare act upon her impulse. So she stretched her hand out towards the witch in a gesture of friendship, of unity, of all-round goody niceness. 'Join us,' she whispered.
'Never!' Sally-Ann screamed. She turned, tripped over a fledgling Frog-fawn, and then flounced wildly, with the creature firmly attached to her ankle, off into the Missingdaisy Forest.
Arrabella shrugged and looked at Langley, Langley looked at Gary, Gary looked at Jim and Jim looked at all of them.
'What do we do now?' the fair maiden asked. 'Lake Loch's lock is still firmly locked and we're still on the wrong side of the gate. We need a key!'
Langley, who'd already dropped the silly lock-picking book and kicked it into the lake, stepped forward and flexed his abs so they rippled and shone in the light. 'I'm sure with my strength a mere padlock should be no problem.'
He readied himself to reach out and snap the keyless impediment from the gate. But the moment his hand made contact with the shiny security device, a giant pink bubble of fairy floss farted from the keyhole, hit Langley in the chest and bounced him backwards onto his lusciously-toned rump.
Gary, his eyes glistening with humour but with the good grace to stifle the laughter that curled his lips, stepped forward. 'If I may,' he addressed Arrabella. 'I tried to tell you before, my lady, that you already have the key.'
Arrabella looked confused and patted down her dress, searching for a hidden pocket where a clever Regina, foretelling events, could have hidden a key without her knowledge. Nope. Nothing but Inuuku, which had retracted to cleavage size again.
'No, no, my dear, you are the key. The lock is an illusion, merely there to stop the unworthy in their tracks. You have the power to open it without incantations or magic or, um, brute force.'
Gary glanced at Langley who had regained his footing but stood rubbing his bruised buttocks.
'Open yourself up, Arrabella,' the wizard explained. 'Open yourself to the power that burns inside of you. Open yourself to your destiny. And open yourself to the man with whom you've decided to share your destiny.'
'Oh yes,' Langley said, leering at Arrabella. 'Open yourself to me.'
Arrabella nodded, recognising the wisdom in Gary's words; and ignoring those of the lovely Langley (though she stored them away for later). She indicated they should hold hands to form a circle, and then closed her eyes.
With all that she had inside her, and all she had outside her, she focused. She focused on her past, her life-training with the Reginas, the loss of her parents, and the life that was meant to be. She focused on her future, and what being the Champion of the Tri-Towers would bring.
Was it power she wanted? Did she want to rule with a tyrant's hand? No, Arrabella knew that wasn't so. Sure, she wanted the powers of the Towers and the flowers, but not at any cost. No, she would bring peace, harmony and love to all the lands. She would bring it with her own hand, and that of her sumptuous Lord Langley.
Arrabella felt the power of goodliness rush through her veins. She felt it throb and surge and rise like the waves of the Testiculard Tide; or was it Langley's loincloth she felt rising again? Either way, it mattered naught. For as she opened her eyes, Arrabella realised the light which had bathed them before was back, and this time it was swirling and shimmering as though the power itself was rejoicing. The colours lifted then, and paled, until the four were bathed in the purest of pure white light.
Arrabella knew what must be done and strode toward the gate. The instant her hand touched the lock, it disintegrated; the gates swung wide and a fanfare of trumpets heralded her victory from the darkened heavens above.
Never in her wildest dreams - nor in any of the lessons the Reginas had given - had she imagined it would be so simple. Had the power really been within her the whole time? Was she already the Chosen One without the need to prove it with days and days of battles, riddles and incantations? Could it really be so easy?
She glanced at her newfound posse for reassurance - each wore a similarly bewildered look; except Gary, of course, whose face betrayed a smugness at being right.
The bridge beckoned to her with its brilliance, though it was almost impossible to look upon it without squinting. Without the golden-gilded gate obscuring the view, Arrabella could see the dazzling glory of a golden cobblestoned path; each stone interspersed with jewels, spliced and trimmed and inlaid in the crevices forming the most intricate of mosaic patterns.
The hand rails, as thick as a giant's wrist, were created of twisted, twined and twirly-toned ropes of yellow, white, rose and white-speckled yellow-rose gold. Each railing was decorated with the clusters of inky black and lily-maid-white pearls that also adorned the gates.
Arrabella gasped at the glittering, dazzling display. She could recall only one other instance in her whole life when she'd seen