Willow Page #16

SORSHA:

Here. You're going to need these

where we're going.

She rides off. Madmartigan looks down at the clothes.

The looks at Willow.

MADMARTIGAN:

She's in love.

WILLOW:

You're crazy. I think you're in

love.

EXT. SNOW MOUNTAIN - DAY

The Nockmaar caravan climbs into snow-covered moun-

tains. In the wagon, Raziel is grilling Willow. He

concentrates hard, cramming, memorizing, straining.

RAZIEL:

We don't have much time left! Go

on! Go on!

WILLOW:

I must concetrate my

imagination...to creat a

new...reality!

RAZIEL:

What's the magician's weapon?

WILLOW:

The limitless power of...

Raziel flips around in spasms of impatience.

RAZIEL:

Your will! Your will! What else

could it be?

WILLOW:

(frustrated)

I can't remember all these things.

What am I learning?

RAZIEL:

The art of transformation!

WILLOW:

(exasperated)

But what am I gonna transform??

RAZIEL:

Me!

Willow and Madmartigan stare at Raziel.

WILLOW:

You?

MADMARTIGAN:

What are you gonna become, Raziel?

Queen of the rodents?

Sorsha rides up to the wagon.

SORSHA:

The baby's cold. Take her.

She dismounts. With care, keeping the baby bundled,

she hands the baby to Willow. Madmartigan watches and

listens.

RAZIEL:

You remind me of your father, Sor-

sha.

SORSHA:

My father was a weakling.

RAZIEL:

He was a great king.

(Madmartigan reacts)

Not like your step-father, not like

your mother. He ruled Tir Asleen

with kindness, and a generous

heart.

SORSHA:

My mother calls that weakness.

MADMARTIGAN:

What do *you* call it?

Sorsha turns and glares at Madmartigan.

SORSHA:

I do what I'm told.

MADMARTIGAN:

Too bad you're not more like

your father.

She looks at him a moment, then abruptly mounts her

horse and rides ahead.

EXT. ROAD TOWARD SNOW CAMP - LATE AFTERNOON

The caravan rides toward a large Nockmaar camp. Death

Dogs howl and fires burn ominously in the distance.

Willow and madmartigan watch as KING KAEL rides out to

meet the caravan.

Kael is huge, powerful and cruel, partbeast, part man,

and he carries a terrible sword at his side. Sorsha

carefully shows him the baby. He grabs it from her.

SORSHA:

Be careful.

KAEL:

Don't tell me what to do.

Kael viciously hits Sorsha, knocking her off her horse.

Madmartgian and Willow watch angrily. Kail gallops to-

ward camp with the baby under his ar. Sorsha shakes

away the pain and, humiliated, mounts her horse.

MADMARTIGAN:

We gotta get the baby out of here.

Raziel dashes around her cage.

RAZIEL:

Tonight! Complete the

philosopher's stone! I must be

turned back!

Looking off into the camp, angry and resolute, Willow

takes out the ingredients for the stone.

WILLOW:

I'll do it, Raziel...

EXT. SNOW CAMP - NIGHT

Now in a kind of portable cell, Madmartigan clutches

the jail bars and looks out at the camp. Fires and

torches burn, and Nockmaar soldiers patrol.

Shivering cold, willow sits cross-legged in the jail,

melting snow into a bowl. On a nearby lean-to, where

skins and shields are kept, Raziel hangs in her cage.

Somewhere the baby is crying. In the distance Sorsha

goes inside one of the tenst. There's a muffled yel-

ling between Sorsha and Kael. Then Keal storms out of

the tent and goes inside the tent next door.

Willow pours the ashes into the melted snow.

RAZIEL:

Let it settle. Carefully, slowly.

Concentration and will. Now pour

the water off.

As Willow works, Madmartigan binds together scrap

sticks of wood, making a long pole. He gingerly hooks

Raziel's cage with this, lifting it from the spike.

WILLOW:

Oooh, this smells terrible.

RAZIEL:

That's the life spark. Exxence of

magic and sorcery!

Madmartigan angles the pole and the cage slide toard

him. He grabs it with both hands and rips it apart.

Raziel right away scurries down the cell bars, jumps

into the jail and bits Willow's hand.

WILLOW:

Ouch!!

RAZIEL:

Shhhhh!

They look out nervously at patrolling Nockmaar sol-

diers. Willow sucks the back of his hand.

WILLOW:

What'd you bit me for!!

RAZIEL:

We need blood. To nourish the

stone. charge the stone with ener-

gy.

Willow drips his blood into the concoction then stirs

it with a twig. It begins to glow from within.

RAZIEL:

The components of the stone are

fusing...

Willow's eyes widen with anticipation.

EXT. SNOW CAMP - NIGHT - LATER

Fires have burned down. Most of the camp is sleeping.

It is nearing dawn. Madmartigan stares out at Sorsha's

tent, deep in thought. Willow holds up the completed

PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, a red ball of pliable putty.

RAZIEL:

Again:
what is the magician's

weapon?

WILLOW:

His will.

RAZIEL:

Now use it.

Willow presses the philopher's stone against the

chainlock. He sheepishly looks over his hsoulder at

Raziel.

WILLOW:

I just wanted to test it first.

RAZIEL:

No! Change me back into a sor-

ceress, Willow.

Willow goes to Raziel and concentrates with physical

and mental intensity.

WILLOW:

Avaggdu, supriom, luwatha...

It starts to work. Raziel curls into a ball of fur.

The fur changes to feathers. She begins to squawk

strangely. She emerges as a raven-sized bird.

WILLOW:

What did I do?

He sags with exhaustion and massages his blistered

hands. Then:
CLINK! The lock falls open. They all

look over, and Madmartigan picks it up off the ground.

MADMARTIGAN:

Not bad, Peck. I'm impressed. You

busted the lock.

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