The Pit of Despair
The pit was aptly named. In a desolate part of the countryside, it was a great gaping hole, twenty metres in diameter, that stretched down into unknown depths. The stench had been noticeable for hours, even to the humans, but Spock's keen sense of smell had been uncomfortably aware of it for much longer. He ordered the unicorns to encircle the pit and sat on Chladagh's back, his hand entwined in her mane, waiting for them to take position. Behind him were Kirk, McCoy and those who could still call on the magic. Gwilym's army surrounded them all and the dragons hovered above.
Spock focussed on the raw energy of this universe and willed it to flow through his mind and body. His heightened telepathy touched the determination of Arigol's people to close this pit forever, and sensed the moment the unicorns twined their minds into a bond which amplified their power a hundrethfold. 'Join with us,' Chladagh invited. 'Be one with the horse-kin'.
Spock sank his consciousness into the group mind. He drew on its resources and began to weave a spell to seal the pit for all eternity. As the magic began to take effect, there was an ominous rumble. Wild cries resounded from the pit as its occupants responded to the threat; rocks broke away from the rim and tumbled into the darkness. Spock narrowed the energy into a tight beam and aimed it inside the pit like a phaser barrage. The ground shifted under Chladagh's feet and Spock sent a swift command to retreat a few paces before renewing the attack by envisaging the strongest metal known to him and hurling out the image as the pit collapsed in on itself. There was an ear-splitting screech then sudden silence.
As he strove to recover from the aural discomfort, Spock noted even through blurred vision that where the gaping aperture had been there now lay a covering of dura-steel. The unicorns backed away. Spock hung onto Chladagh's neck, unable now to think or speak. Pains shot through his head and as he slid from the unicorn's back, his legs gave way beneath him. He sank to the ground but was caught by a strong grip and supported against an armoured shoulder. "Are you all right, Spock?" Jim's worried tone penetrated.
"A momentary indisposition, Captain," Spock struggled to say.
Chladagh nuzzled at Spock's hair, her warm breath soothing his pounding headache. Her foal pressed a wet nose onto his head and snorted.
"Shut up, Spock. Dammit you co-ordinated the whole spell," McCoy chided angrily. "Damn Vulcan always has to be a hero."
Kirk gave him water to drink and it revived his strength a little. "I assure you, Dr McCoy, that I was the only logical person." Spock was able to respond.
"Don't argue with me, you green-blooded excuse for an elf. Just lie still." The doctor's concerned expression belied his sharp words. He indicated that Spock should take another drink and once satisfied that his charge was recovering the doctor moved away to tend to others.
"He worries about you," Kirk said as he assisted Spock to stand.
"It is unnecessary," Spock said. He leaned heavily on the human. "I am a Vulcan."
"Yes, Spock," Kirk said with a sigh. "Sometimes you sound like a parrot."
"A parrot, sir?"
"Never mind, can you get back on your unicorn?"
"I believe so, Captain," Spock replied, but Kirk had to help him to mount."
Deven playfully butted the human's leg. "Damn foal." Kirk rubbed his thigh. "Tell him his horn's getting sharp." Kirk mounted his horse and on the return journey he rode close by Spock's side as, succumbing to his tiredness, the Vulcan wound his arms round Chladagh's strong neck, pressed his face against the luxurious mane and slipped into a deep sleep.
***
McCoy guided his gentle elven mount towards Spock. "Even his stamina has to give out." He looked over Spock's bent head at Kirk.
"I know, Bones. Don't you think that I worry about him too?"
McCoy was silent. He thought about their strange adventures in Arigol and wondered if they would ever look back on it all from the safety of their ship. Watched over by his two guardians, three, McCoy added on catching Chladagh's lovely eye, Spock slept all the way to the camp where Chekov, Chapel, Sulu and Uhura came out to greet them. Spock didn't stir and McCoy could not tell if that was a bad sign or simply meant the Vulcan was in a healing trance. Whatever the case, he resolved to place him under medical supervision as soon as possible.
It was almost twilight now. The unicorn herd left their queen and galloped along the cliff, their manes flowing behind them in the wind. It was a stunning spectacle and many turned to watch. The foal tried to keep up with the adults but his small legs were unable to match their speed and he snorted angrily as they left him far behind. Chladagh whinnied. Deven hung his head, glanced once again at the other unicorns now far in the distance, then tail between legs he trotted along the cliff edge. McCoy laughed at the piteous sight the foal was presenting. Just like any baby creature.
Chladagh called again. McCoy could almost hear the command in her voice. Come here you little rascal.
Deven coyly cantered towards her just as a dark winged shadow rose from behind the cliff and pounced on the defenceless foal's back. Cries of horror rose from the watchers. Chladagh screamed. Spock jolted awake, hanging on tightly as the maddened unicorn galloped towards her child. McCoy urged his horse forward and, along with Kirk and Gwilym, raced after them as the harpy struck the small unicorn down and sat atop him cackling.
As Chladagh reared up Spock lifted his arm and an ahn woon materialised in his hand. He swung it round his head, aimed it at the harpy and sent the weapon coiled around the scraggy throat. Spock slid from the unicorn's back and approaching his flailing captive, drew the leather thong more tightly, and dragged the harpy from Deven's body. Menacing claws reached for him. He stepped back to escape them, stumbled, and lost his balance. The ahn woon loosened and the creature twisted out of its restraints.
Kirk jumped from his horse's back as the harpy rose on its leathery wings to swoop down on its new victim. He yelled and it turned in mid air to look at him with bloodshot eyes. It dived for him but Spock swung the ahn woon to catch one of the harpy's legs. The creature screeched as it was dragged onto the ground but it stood no chance as Gwilym threw himself from his steed, raised Demonstalker into the air and beheaded it in one blow. Foul blood seeped from the severed neck to soak into the earth.
Chladagh was nuzzling Deven. McCoy reached them and searched for a heartbeat but the foal lay still and bloody. Spock knelt beside them. "McCoy," he whispered roughly.
"I'm no expert with animals, Spock, but I don't think this little fellow has much chance of survival. His heartbeat is almost non-existent."
Spock stroked Chladagh's head and murmured soothingly to her. The unicorn rose on her hind legs, and her deadly hoofs pawed the air. Spock tried to reach for her but the grief-stricken animal did not acknowledge him and knocked him aside. He went flying across the ground, dangerously close to the cliff edge.
Kirk dived after Spock and dragged him back. "She's dangerous. Keep away."
Spock stood up. "Captain, I must communicate with her. There may yet be a chance." He staggered to his feet. "McCoy, try the herbs."
McCoy scrambled away from Chladagh's flailing hoofs. "C'mon, Spock. Miraculous as they are, the herbs can't cure anyone this close to death."
"You must try, McCoy. He is her only child," Spock urged.
McCoy rubbed at his forehead. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep for a week but Spock so rarely asked anything of him. How could he let the Vulcan down? "Okay, I'll need Sera with me. She's the animal expert."
Spock pulled away from Kirk's grasp and approached Chladagh. She stood over her foal and bared her teeth menacingly. "Permit me to speak," he whispered. "We can help Deven."
The thundering of hoof-beats could be heard as the unicorns returned to their queen. They ranged around her with heads lowered and nostrils flaring. Spock reached out to Chladagh, his eyes closed, his stance indicating that he was attempting telepathic communication. An eternity passed until she gently placed her horn into Spock's hand. He slid his fingers along its surface until they reached her forehead and Vulcan and unicorn stood silently.
McCoy sighed deeply and exchanged a relieved glance with Kirk.
Spock bent down and lifted Deven in his arms. "McCoy, I'll bring him. Go and prepare the herbs."
***
There was silence as McCoy brought the cooled herbal liquid from the tent. He had no idea what quantities were required for an animal and Sera had been unable to advise him on that. However, she had cleaned and spread salve on the deep wounds, and bound them.
Deven lay on Spock's lap. The Vulcan was stroking the unicorn's head beside them was Chladagh, her eyes never leaving her foal's still form. On the right sat the priestess Sera. All around them humans, elves and unicorns watched and waited.
McCoy knelt by Spock. "Lift his head up."
The priestess, experienced in the care of horses, held the small head back and opened Deven's mouth. "Trickle the liquid in slowly. I'll massage his throat to force him to swallow."
McCoy looked at Spock for a long moment then with a slight smile said, "Between Sera's skills, your touch and these herbs, Spock, maybe the little fellow will live."
Spock nodded and, closing his eyes, maintained his touch on the unicorn as McCoy followed Sera's instructions. It was a slow process and after all the liquid had been swallowed, they wrapped the foal in blankets.
There was nothing more to do but wait so McCoy went to tend his other patients. He was glad to have Christine back with him in her normal capacity as nurse for she took much of the strain from him and organised their staff with her usual efficiency. The skilled elf healers he had left at the hospital during the assault on the Pit of Despair required no supervision but it took stiff talking by Christine before the newly arrived water nymphs discarded their provocative behaviour and began to act responsibly. They certainly had healing gifts for the patients under their care began to thrive.
It was dawn before McCoy was able to check on Deven. He found the foal in Kirk's tent, sleeping peacefully by his mother's side. "So this is an animal refuge now?" he asked irritably.
Spock sat beside them, blankets round his shoulders against the slight chill of the morning air. "His heartbeat is stronger. Chladagh thanks you, Doctor."
McCoy crouched down near the brazier and rubbed his hands. "I'd give anything for coffee."
"I'm afraid there's only herbal tea or water." Kirk's voice came from a mound of blankets close by. "Haven't you rested?"
McCoy yawned. "Some folks have patients to attend to." A cup of warm tea was placed into his hands and he sipped it. "Still prefer coffee."
Movement from the corner caught his eye. He forgot his tiredness and scrambled over to where Deven raised a sleepy head and snorted. McCoy examined the foal. "He seems much stronger. I think the herbs worked!"
Chladagh licked Deven's face. "The mother knows her child is recovering," Spock said. "She is most intuitive."
McCoy grinned. "Just like a certain Vulcan I know."
"Really, Doctor, that remark is highly insulting."
McCoy exchanged an amused glance with Kirk, grabbed some blankets and settled down. "I just can't get used to sleeping on the floor," he complained.
Kirk's voice followed him down into darkness. "We travel to Arbara soon. Maybe there you'll find a nice comfortable bed."
Dreams of cool sheets, firm pillows, yielding mattresses and snug coverlets comforted McCoy throughout his short sleep and when wakened a few hours later, he scarcely grumbled.
The Coronation
Thousands of happy people lined the streets as Kirk and his triumphant army rode into Arbara. The city was damaged, dirty, and its inhabitants thin and ragged but the royal palace had been maintained in all its splendour. Kirk dismounted in the circular courtyard and looked up at the building. A vivid green moss and stone sculptures of fantastic beasts adorned its surface; hundreds of stained glass windows shone brilliantly in the sunlight as if welcoming the liberators and joyful servants awaited them on the steps leading up to the magnificent arched marble doorway.
Kirk turned to Gwilym. "This is your home. It's time you took over your responsibilities."
The prince nodded. "Very well, sire. Pray enter the royal palace and be welcome." He strode up to the servants, revealed his identity, and after a moment of shock he was greeted with utmost reverence.
Ayrond came forward. "There may yet be Evil hidden here." He gestured to Chapel. "Come, Lady, your task is not yet over." Christine sighed and taking the pendant in her hand followed the mage into the building, an armed party led by Emrys at her back.
It took hours to clear the last of the demons from the palace. The grisly task completed, Kirk and his companions assembled in the lavishly furnished great hall. Uhura watched as Gwilym assumed his princely role. She sat beside Christine, Pavel and Hikaru as they ate cooked foods using delicate crockery and cutlery.
As Gwilym sat at the head of the long table, his eyes often strayed to her. She tried to ignore him by concentrating on the discussion going on around her. Much as she liked Gwilym, his ardent and often possessive attention was something she wanted to discourage. The last week had been difficult for them all. She was tired. Her animals had fought bravely; the survivors had now returned to their homes except for the she-wolf Xyra who sat at her feet. She reached down to stroke the warm fur and the animal licked her hand.
Quarters had been arranged for them all, and after their meal, she and Christine were escorted to a chilly sea-facing chamber with rich tapestries draping its high walls. The mage bustled in, chanted a few words and a fire blazed up in the hearth. He lifted a small curtain and showed them a wooden doorway that led into a marble bathroom with a deep sunken tub and sanitary facilities.
"I am bespelling all the rooms, my ladies, and soon there will be plenty hot water for everyone. With Evil's influence gone my powers are much restored. All the magic that was lost can be regained. It will take time but we will heal Arigol."
The two women exchanged startled glances as Ayrond bowed then departed. "Good grief, what a strange way to fix the plumbing!" Uhura exclaimed.
After a long hot soak, she dressed in a white robe from her supply of Maran's clothing and lay on her bed as Christine bathed. She was almost asleep when a soft knock on the door disturbed her. "Who is it?" she asked.
"Gwilym, my lady. May I speak with thee?"
She groaned. All she wanted to do was sleep. "It's late. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"Please, my lady, I entreat thee."
Christine popped her head out. "I'll be right here if you need a chaperone?"
Uhura threw a pillow at her. Christine ducked and closed the door. "Very well, Gwilym." She stood up and watched as he entered the room, looking every inch the prince in a royal purple doublet and black hose.
He knelt before her. "My lady, I must speak my heart. I wilst be crowned King of Arbara and must have a bride. I beseech thee to marry me and be my queen."
"What?" Uhura exclaimed in astonishment.
"I am not worthy of thee. I knowest this. Thou art the Ebon Queen, saviour of this land, and I but a humble prince." He bent his head low.
Uhura tried to clear her head. What would Captain Kirk think? What would Starfleet Command say? How could she refuse without hurting him? "My life is not my own. I am committed to my duty and cannot leave. Please understand that I do like you but marriage isn't in my plans."
He looked up at her. "My lady. Thou breaks my heart."
"That's nonsense, Gwilym. There will be any number of women who'll willingly marry you. I live a different life. I don't come from here and I'd never be happy away from my home."
He stood up, towering over her. "Thou wilst learn to love me."
"No, I'm sorry but it just won't work." Uhura could see the hurt in his eyes but knew she had to stop this once and for all. He stared at her for a long moment before he bowed low, turned on his heel and swiftly left the chamber.
Uhura flopped onto her bed with a sigh.
"Oh boy!" Christine commented as she came out of the bathroom
***
The next day, Spock and Kirk strolled down the cliff walk to the white sands below. They both savoured the scenic beauty and relaxed under the sun's gentle warmth as the waves lapped at their feet. Spock felt a sudden urge to dive into the sea, as a merman again, to meet with Chaya. He sighed very slightly but Kirk noticed. "What is it, Spock?"
"I wish to swim. Will you join me?" he asked.
"Sure," Kirk replied. "I'll race you to those rocks." He pointed to an islet in the distance. Spock nodded and waded into the water. "Hey, are you going in fully clothed?" Kirk asked as he stripped down to his leggings.
Spock called on the shape-shifting power and as he struck out for the rock, he felt disorientation then the familiar weight of a tail. He turned to see Jim's startled face. "You will notice that my swimming skills have improved, Captain." He flicked his tail in the air, dived under the water and sped onwards. He reached the islet two point five minutes before Kirk, and sat silently on the rock watching in quiet amusement as the human doggedly swam towards him then pulled himself up to perch beside him.
Kirk stared at him. "You are a fish, Mr Spock!" he exclaimed with a wicked grin.
"Really, Captain, I am a merman," Spock retorted with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances. It felt comfortable to be bantering with Jim again.
Kirk shook his head. "Starfleet Command are never going to believe this."
Suddenly the water below them stirred like a small whirlpool then a ferocious looking head on a long neck rose up to tower over them. "Chaya," Spock cried. A splash and a yell reached his ears and he turned around to see Jim flailing in the sea. Spock slipped into the water and grabbed hold of the human's shoulders. "It is all right, Jim. This is Chaya, my friend."
Kirk swallowed seawater and spluttered. "You've got strange friends, Spock. Have you noticed it's a serpent with big sharp teeth?"
Spock almost smiled. "He is very sociable and I have told him about you."
Chaya trained his opalescent eyes on them. Spock knew the serpent wanted to communicate but Jim's safety had to be ensured first. He helped his captain back onto the rocks, settled down beside him and held out a hand to the serpent. Chaya slithered closer until his head was in contact and his long body was coiled around the rock.
'Greetings Chaya. Are you well?'
'Well. Jim fear Chaya?'
'No. He is startled by your size. Chaya, I must leave soon. I came to bid you farewell.'
'Leave? No. Friend.'
Spock could understand the serpent's trepidation for he too had spent much of his life alone. 'You shall meet others of your kind, and you will one day find a mate. The merfolk shall always be your friends. The people of Arigol are grateful for your support and they too will be your friends.'
'None like you. None talk to me.'
Spock stroked Chaya's head. He turned to see Jim watching him, with a touch of amusement. "Would you care to speak with Chaya, Jim?" If anyone could make the creature understand the necessity of their departure, it would be Kirk.
The human grinned. "Sure."
It was simple to arrange the three-way meld and soon Jim and Chaya were talking companionably. Spock could scarcely restrain his amusement when Jim was invited to sit on Chaya's back. Kirk, never one to shirk a challenge, slipped onto the serpent's neck and, with a half grin to Spock, hung on tightly. Spock swam alongside as Jim, whooping with delight, was taken on a sea trip the likes of which he had never experienced before. Merfolk surfaced around them and the captain, ever appreciative of female beauty, gazed open mouthed at the mermaids who giggled under his scrutiny.
Hours later, they returned to the beach. Chaya deposited Jim on the sand and curled himself about him. "Wow! That was quite a trip, Spock." Kirk lay flat on his back staring up at the sky.
"Indeed, Captain. Chaya likes you." Spock tickled the serpent's chin.
Enterprise crewmembers hesitantly approached them. "Well, I never thought you'd be so shameless, Mr Spock." McCoy's voice was teasing.
Spock refused to rise to the bait and continued to pet Chaya as Emrys, Iestyn and Gwilym - keeping well clear of the serpent - joined them. Merfolk left the sea and ranged themselves along the shoreline, the maidens coyly glancing at the human and elven men.
"Truly this is a wondrous sight to behold," Gwilym said with a smile to Ainle, the black haired, jade-eyed mer-princess.
Kirk sat up and followed the prince's gaze. "Hmmm. Well, Gwilym, is there a problem?"
"There is much to be done, sire. I am to be proclaimed King. Once that is accomplished the healing of the land can begin. Wilt thou, King of Prophecy crown me two days hence?"
Kirk frowned "I'd be honoured, but surely there are others more qualified than I."
"Nay, sire. There are none greater than thee."
Kirk mulled over that remark. "Very well. If that's what you want." He turned to Spock. "Well are you going to get out of that fish-tail and help with the preparations, First Officer?" A sudden chill ran up and down his spine. There was no apparent reason for it but Kirk's instincts went on yellow alert. "After the coronation our time in Arigol will be over. It's time to go home."
Spock bowed his head slightly, tapped the power and moments later had regained his normal body. He silently bade farewell to the serpent, watched as it slithered back into the sea, and looked at his captain. Kirk pressed his arm. "Chaya understands, Spock, but he'll miss you."
"Damn Vulcan has the strangest pets!" McCoy muttered as they returned to the palace.
***
Sulu studied his smart new outfit in the mirror of the room assigned to him. He would miss Arigol but the thought of returning home was uppermost in his mind. His true place was at the helm of the Enterprise. He allowed his hair to swing loose and wondered if the captain would permit him, despite regulations, to keep some of its length. He liked it even though it was more difficult to manage. As he brushed it a very feminine giggle startled him. He tensed, placed his hand on his sword then relaxed as he recognised the soft voice calling his name from the bathroom. Tegan had been among the nymphs who had come to assist with the wounded but he had seen little of her as she had remained in the camp with those too weak to travel. She must have arrived in Arbara for the coronation and found her way here. He took a deep breath and walked into the bathroom where she lay in the tub, her hair trailing to the floor, her ruby red lips pouting.
"Um, how did you get here, Tegan?" he asked.
She smiled. "Come here, Swordsman."
Sulu blinked. She was very desirable but the tales he had heard of men being trapped by these magical sprites were worrying. After his fight with Rannilt and his return to Tegan there had been a time loss, before he found Christine and Pavel, that he had never dared question. "I can't right now, Tegan. Duty. Um, why don't you finish your bath and I'll meet you in the great hall later."
"Hikaru, where are you? Captain Kirk wants to speak with you." Chekov's voice sent a wave of relief through him. The young ensign walked through the open doorway. "Hikaru he... " There was a loud gulp and Chekov's voice wavered, "Captain Kirk is... "
"Very handsome," Tegan supplied with a laugh. "And so are you, Youth." She rose, and the water gathered around her naked form like a garment.
"B, Beautiful," Chekov stuttered, his face red and his eyes wide.
Sulu grabbed his arm. "C'mon Pavel." He yanked the young man from the room and pushed him towards the outer door. "The women here are dangerous!"
***
Christine stood on a balcony overlooking the crowd assembled for Gwilym's coronation. She was dressed in the elegant gown she had first worn in Arigol. The Great Hall was bedecked with garlands of flowers, exquisite hangings brought from Elvenhome and priceless goblets gifted by the merfolk. Crystal chandeliers alight with spellfire cast a warm glow and sweet perfume filled the air.
She felt a presence beside her and looked up into the handsome face of Emrys Harper-King.
"Lady, you will soon leave us." He bowed over her hand.
"Yes. Ayrond will attempt to return us after Gwilym's crowning."
"I have much to thank you for, Lady. You drove the demon from me."
"It was meant to be. I never used to believe in fate but my experiences here have changed all that. Emrys, I'm so sorry about Aelwen."
"My sister's bravery shall always be remembered. Her body will be buried in Elvenhome but she is now at peace in the sunlit lands. The harper lifted her hand to his lips. "Lady, the eldritch folk shall never forget all that you and your companions have done. If it were possible I would ask you to be my queen. I am aware that you do not find me unattractive. However I know you cannot stay in Arigol, for your path and your heart lies elsewhere."
Christine did not know how to answer him. "Your wife," she began.
"She died years ago," Emrys said stiffly. He changed the subject. "Allow me to escort you to the ceremony."
Christine took his arm and with a gentle smile said, "I would be honoured, sire."
The elf-king led her to the Great Hall. "The honour is mine, my lady."
***
Chekov stood on the wide, flower decorated dais along with his comrades, and watched proudly as Captain Kirk spoke to the assembly. Behind them stood the ancient golden throne of Arbara, its carvings depicting unicorns and dragons. On the footstool lay the sword Demonstalker. It seemed like all of Arigol's races were represented in this hall and it was an extraordinary sight. Chekov was used to seeing different species but these folk were something special. He smiled ruefully as he threw the vampire's cloak back across his shoulders to drape behind his new red velvet outfit and recalled how Sulu had saved his life from that bloodsucking monster.
He stared up at the frescoed ceiling and daydreamed until a dig in the ribs from Sulu jolted him and he glanced down at his fine clothing before staring across the assembly. A movement at the side of the hall caught his eye. A woman was slowly creeping along the side aisle towards the dais. 'Who is she?' he wondered, taking in her golden hair and lusciously curved figure garbed in a clinging rose coloured dress. 'Some water nymph who has arrived late? Ah she is lovely.'
His attention was drawn away as the ceremony began. Kirk held his own gold circlet over the kneeling Gwilym's head as substitute for the missing royal crown. "By my right as King of Prophecy, I call upon you, Gwilym, Prince of Arbara, to vow allegiance to the people of Arigol."
Suddenly, the blonde woman materialised behind Gwilym. "I dispute his right to rule," she cried shrilly. "He is mine. Do not move or his life is forfeit." A black cat hung by its claws from the folds of her dress. The animal spat, jumped on the prince's back and changed into a shrunken demon. Its malevolent green eyes sparked, a forked tongue licked the human's neck and long talons dug deep. Red blood began to seep through the plush satin of Gwilym's doublet.
Everyone froze but Chekov caught Uhura's eye. Her anger and fear plainly showed on her face but she also seemed to be trying to tell him something. He blinked. Of course, but the woman's attention has to be diverted.
Kirk spread his hands wide. "Who are you and what do you want?" The others moved forward, hiding Chekov from view.
Chekov crouched down, covered himself fully with the cloak and crept around the back of the dais. Gwilym's eyes were glazed and his body rigid. Ensorcelled, Chekov guessed. He had to free the prince from the demon's clutches but how was he to destroy the creature without harm to its prisoner? He was only faintly aware of the discussion going on as Kirk and the others attempted to reason with the woman. Chekov crept to Gwilym's side and studied the creature that threatened the prince. He needed something to destroy the demon but there were no weapons except the magic sword on the footstool. Chekov chewed at his lip; it was his only chance. None of the others could help. If they made a move Gwilym would be dead in an instant.
He tiptoed over, opened his cloak slightly, picked up Demonstalker and hid it within the copious folds. Uhura glanced over and there was a slight smile on her face. He crept back across the dais, praying that the witch would not hear or sense his passage. She was cackling, her beautiful face disfigured by her evil nature as she harangued and cursed them all. He reached the prince and drawing Demonstalker, opened the cloak of invisibility and plunged the blade through the demon's hide. It yelped and lost its grip on its victim, changed into a black cat, and mewled piteously as it hung skewered on the sword. Chekov almost gagged at the sight but remembering it was not the innocent little animal it appeared, he hardened his heart.
The woman screamed and fell to the ground. As the demon died so did its mistress, her form rapidly ageing until an ancient bent crone lay there. McCoy and Christine went to Gwilym's aid as the shocked assembly found their voices.
Now that the danger was over, Chekov slid shaken to the ground. Uhura knelt by him and forced some water into his mouth. "Drink, Pavel. That was the Forest Hag, an old adversary."
Chekov grinned and after his strength returned; he basked in the praise he was being given from all quarters. Gwilym, his wounds bathed and bandaged, grasped his hand and bowed over it. "Noble Youth of Prophecy, I am indebted to thee."
Chekov blushed. "It vas nothing, sire, really."
Uhura kissed his cheek and his flush deepened. Even Mr Spock was looking on him with approval. He sighed contentedly and stepped back to his place as the ceremony was resumed.
***
Kirk placed the circlet on Gwilym's head. "Arise, King of Arbara," he said. As he backed away, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. It was always a premonition of danger or difficulty and his head started to pound. A sudden wash of homesickness overcame him as he stepped to Spock's side.
Gwilym stood and turned to his people. "I owe my life and kingdom to the Heroes of the Prophecy. Hail the Saviours of Arigol."
The Great Hall rang with cheers and Kirk smiled proudly at each of his crew before addressing the crowd. "Live Long and Prosper, people of Arigol. It has been an honour to serve you." He beckoned to his crew and they accompanied him from the platform.
Ayrond hurried to catch up with them. "Lord King, where do you go?"
Kirk stopped. "We've been here long enough. You don't need us any more. You said that your power was returning. Send us back." Something was warning him to leave. Of that he was now convinced.
The mage lowered his head. "Sire, I had hoped that you would stay a while yet."
Kirk shook his head. "We have our own life to lead. This is not our place."
The mage nodded. "Very well, sire. At midnight I shall assemble all who can assist me."
Kirk turned to his crew. "Say your goodbyes."
Everyone but Spock left. "What troubles you, Jim?"
"You're too perceptive, my friend". Kirk grimaced. "I don't know. Call it a hunch but I feel that if we don't return soon we'll be trapped here. It's odd. I can't explain it."
Spock tilted his head to one side and studied Kirk. "It is illogical, Jim, but your hunches are normally accurate. I would stake my life on them. I shall bid farewell to Chladagh."
Kirk watched him stride away, resplendent in his outfit, then chuckled and looked down at his own rich clothes. Not exactly Starfleet dress code. A pang of homesickness passed through him again. The Enterprise called him and he needed to be with her again. He squared his shoulders and went to say his own goodbyes to the people he had come to know and like during his stay here.
***
The Tower
Those who had volunteered to assist with the spellcasting gathered at midnight in a circular chamber in the high tower of the palace. Spock looked out of the turret window at the Sea of Serenity as it shimmered in the starlight. He could distinguish the familiar humps of the sea serpent Chaya, surrounded by merfolk who petted him like a large puppy. Dragons flew in the night sky, their queen leading them in an intricate airborne dance. On the sands many people, carrying torches of spellfire, stood vigil and behind them where the sea gently flowed onto the beach were the unicorns. Chladagh's mane blew in the breeze as she stared up at the tower. Spock sent a silent message to the noble creatures. The unicorns whinnied in response and he knew that they had heard his final farewell.
Spock turned round as Ayrond placed the scrying crystal onto a stone altar and passed his hands over it. A flame of white shot from the stone and the old man seemed pleased.
Gwilym stepped forward. "Saviours of Arigol, on behalf of the people, I thank ye." He looked at Uhura pleadingly. "Once more I beseech thee, Lady. Stay and be my queen."
Uhura glanced at her shipmates then resolutely turned to the newly appointed king. "I'm sorry, Gwilym, but I've already given you my answer."
"So be it." He drew an emerald brooch from inside his doublet. "This didst belong to my lady mother. Pray accept it as a token of my love. Mayhap one day we shall be reunited."
Uhura's shock was obvious but she accepted the gift. "I will always treasure it. Be happy, sire." She pinned the brooch onto her dress.
Gwilym stepped back, leaned against the wall and spoke no further. Spock stood by Kirk as final goodbyes were said. His companions showed signs of distress as they parted from their new friends and Spock had to reinforce his barriers against their emotion.
"Halfling Prince, we ask thy help," the mage said. "There is no known spell to return you. We must all work together to harness the magic. Thy power is great. Will you place thy hand upon the crystal and envision the great vessel which sails between the stars."
Kirk touched Spock's arm. "You'll need to guide them. Let's hope the ship is still probing the anomaly."
"Aye sir," he replied, noting the uncertainty that did not show in Kirk's flippant tone.
For some time, a part of Spock's mind had been working on the reasons for the separation of Arigol and Earth. If mythology was to be believed, these two places had coexisted for countless centuries. In all probability Medrikhor's dark power had damaged or destroyed the gateways between them leaving the Vonda Anomaly as the only known connection. If Spock returned to the Enterprise he would inform Kirk of his theory but he dismissed it for the present, leaned over the altar and touched the stone. He held a grave responsibility and would not let his captain and shipmates down.
He stared into the crystal's clouded facets, recalled every contour of the Enterprise's hull, and willed her to appear. After some moments, a tiny glow broke through the milky depths. It expanded. Blackness. A touch of silver. An almost recognisable shape. "I begin to see her," Spock whispered. "Captain, the Enterprise awaits us."
"Well done, Spock." Kirk's voice was exultant. "Okay, Ayrond what do we do?"
"You must form a circle. You must will this enterprise to succeed."
Spock turned from the crystal to see his crewmates smiling. "Captain?"
"Enterprise," Kirk explained.
Spock was none the wiser but wasted no time over it for the mage began to chant. Spock closed his eyes and continued to envisage the ship; concentrating on the emergence of power around them. It intensified with each passing minute. It permeated his every cell until he tingled with its charge. He swayed but the two humans at his side supported him until he steadied.
"Take your comrades home, Halfling Prince," Ayrond's voice urged.
Spock gasped as the power sizzled through every fibre of his being. He opened his eyes to see his crewmates flooded in a circle of golden light, their hair flowing out behind them. Surrounding them all were the brilliant auras of the other occupants of the room, adding their strength to his.
The magic crackled and sparked then engulfed the seven Starfleet officers in a bubble of energy that carried them from the chamber. Spock gathered the power to him as darkness surrounded them. In the silence, he was aware of his companions' distress. He tried to communicate with them but, without warning, a chasm opened beneath him and he plunged into a whirlpool of vivid colours. To protect his vision, his inner eyelid automatically sealed shut.
In his mind's eye he imagined the familiarity of the Bridge and entreated the power, the magic, the very universe itself to take them there.
A gentle female voice murmured soothingly in his mind. 'You have saved my land. I am pleased. You and your comrades may now return home.'
'Who speaks?' Spock asked.
'It is I, Arigol, goddess of the land. You have fulfilled your destiny here. Be at peace.'
Within his inner sight, the Enterprise grew closer. A vast surge of power pushed him forwards. The ship awaited them. Their own goddess wanted her subjects back. Enterprise - the silver lady of the stars beckoned them. Spock reached out for his comrades, enfolded them within his protection and aimed for her welcoming embrace.
Epilogue
The mage stared into the seeing stone. He uttered an incantation and the swirling mists began to clear. The silver haired sorcerer smiled with satisfaction at the visions he saw within. The spell had worked. The seven Heroes of the Prophecy had reached their demesne. The magic ship that sailed between the stars was awash with light, its inhabitants overjoyed at the sudden return of their King and his companions.
The Halfling was weak from the difficult spellcasting but he would recover under the Healer's skilful care. "Behold." The mage waved a hand over the vision and it dissolved to reappear, its size increased tenfold, in the centre of the chamber. There were gasps from the onlookers at the strange sounds, multicoloured lights and unknown materials.
The Healer pressed a tube against the Halfling's neck and a moment later the Prince's dark brown eyes opened. "Where?" he asked hoarsely.
The King leaned forward. "We're back on the Enterprise, Spock. All's well."
"Captain, the time factor."
The King smiled then replied. "Scotty said that only a day has passed here."
The Halfling struggled to sit up but both the King and Healer pressed him back down. "No you don't, Spock," the Healer said. "You need rest, nourishment and freedom from stress."
"But I believe there is a further mystery regarding our return. Many weeks passed in Arigol. It is possible that the spell threw us not only to our own universe but back in time."
"No, Spock. Follow medical orders," the King said. "There will be time for analysis, later." He looked at the others. "You're all relieved of duty for forty eight hours. Rest. You deserve it."
An unfamiliar man came forward. He was older than the seven saviours. His black hair was cut short and he wore a bright red tunic, black trews and boots. "Captain, what yer all wearing isnae exactly regulation. And yer hair!"
The King laughed. "When in Rome, Scotty."
As the image dispersed, Ayrond smiled at the others. "Their magic is most puissant. Come, my friends, let us invoke the ancient rite of honour. They are most worthy."
Emrys stepped forward. "Noble Heroes of the Prophecy, I shall compose a ballad that will recount your heroism. Our scions shall honour you forever."
Wynonna raised her hand. "King of Prophecy, know that I, daughter of Arigol, salute thy bravery, compassion and greatness."
Maghwynn folded his arms across his chest. "Spock Elven-Prince, know that your valour and strength shall live on in the lore of the sea. You will be revered forever."
Gwilym gripped Demonstalker's hilt. "Ebon Queen, lovely and valiant, thou shalt be remembered for all time. My heart lieth always at thy feet."
Emrys bowed low. "Caring Lady, thy goodness, beauty, and courage shall always be lauded. You would have made a worthy queen of Elvenhome."
Sera's eyes were moist. "Lord Healer, thy skill and determination saved countless lives and will be remembered always. All those who practise the healing arts but walk in thy shadow."
Tegan stepped forward. "Valiant Swordsman, thy prowess in battle and generosity of spirit will live in our hearts for all time."
Ayrond held up a hand. "So to the Youth without whose wit and bravery the prophecy would have been doomed. Thou will always be a shining example to the young of Arigol."
All but the mage left the chamber. He looked into the crystal, muttered a clearing spell and the face of the King of Prophecy formed within its depths. "Noble King, named James Kirk, greatest leader of all. May thy voyages live on in the legends of thy people for all eternity."
Ayrond dissolved the image, lifted the scrying stone and left without a backward glance. Those who now held office due to the fulfilment of the prophecy had a difficult task ahead and it was his sacred duty to advise them. With a light step and a heart filled with hope, Ayrond prepared himself for the tasks ahead. His beloved Maran would have wished this. She would await him in the sunlit lands and at the proper time he would join her there.
***
The room grew dim. There was a profound silence then the air stirred sluggishly. A form gradually took shape. Gasps of pain and exertion broke the quiet only to stop when the hunched figure had fully materialised. It raised its horned head and stared around with lidless purple eyes. It lifted a clenched fist and softly chuckled. "Beware, Noble King and Halfling Prince. I will follow thy trail. I will find thy demesne and have my revenge. Think you that the eldritch magic destroyed me? I have power which none can begin to understand." The King of Evil stood up on hoofed feet and gathered a cloak of dark magic around him. "One day I will destroy ye. Not even the Goddess shall stop Medrikhor, King of the Netherworld."
Laughter echoed through the castle of Arbara as Medrikhor smashed the stone altar into dust and vanished.
The end.