The Final Storm

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  “I’d forgotten about this place,” Kaliam said. “This courtyard brings peace to a troubled mind! I do not recognize the shrubs or the flowers that grow here now, but I would wager they have some curative potency. We best not let Sir Oswyn know of this place, or he may dig up all the plants to discover their secrets!”

  Lady Merewen laughed. She led Kaliam along one of the green avenues until they came to a small fountain where many of the paths met. The water trickled happily down its three tiers, and its music joined that of the songbirds and the whispering wind.

  For a long while, they sat on a stone bench near the fountain. “Now, tell me what troubles you.”

  Kaliam inhaled deeply and began. “I brought Fury to the King . . . and the news of Aelic’s strange disappearance.”

  “Mallik told me what happened,” Lady Merewen said. “Do you think Aelic still lives? Could he have gone to the Mirror Realm?”

  “I do not know. But if he has, his twin, Sir Aidan, will come back to The Realm! If this is so, I would like to know when and where he will appear.” Kaliam sighed and rubbed his temples.

  They sat and listened to the trickle from the fountain for a long time. At last, Kaliam said, “We are living in a time when legends come to life. First, the Wyrm Lord is freed. Then, the Seven Sleepers are called from their long slumber. And now, I learn that the three ancient heroes are real as well!”

  “Who are they?” Merewen asked. “How will we know them?”

  “My very questions to King Eliam,” the Sentinel explained, again rubbing his temples. “The King put his mighty hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye, and said, ‘Kaliam, a time will come when all in The Realm will know the identity of the Three Witnesses, for a Herald will proclaim their arrival. So it is written in the Scroll of Prophecy.’”

  “The Scroll of Prophecy?”

  “Yes.” Kaliam smiled. “At last we gain the answer to one riddle. We know now that the Scroll of Prophecy is what was hidden at the core of the Ancient One. That is why Paragor destroyed that great tree. And now, he has the Scroll in his possession.”

  “But why would he want it?”

  “The Scroll of Prophecy is an ancient document. It came into existence at the beginning of all things when King Eliam saw the future of The Realm roll out like a blanket before him. He saw events that might later come to pass—if the beings of this world were noble and chose to keep peace. But it also showed what could come to pass if evil arose and The Realm became divided. The prophecy spells out two destinies for us all. With such knowledge, Paragor could bring about the destruction of Alleble.”

  The sun slipped below the roofline, and the golden light was gone. Now gray shadow hung over the courtyard.

  “Can we not stop him?” Lady Merewen asked.

  “The Three Witnesses can,” Kaliam said. “But until they arrive, there is much we must do.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “King Eliam revealed to me that he has called another young champion from the Mirror Realm. He is to be the Twelfth Knight on a journey into King’s Forest.”

  “King’s Forest?” Lady Merewen echoed. “Why?”

  “This was another riddle, but not the last,” said Kaliam. “In the heart of King’s Forest, there lives an ancient scribe who served the King long before Alleble came to be.”

  “But that would make him—”

  “Ancient beyond count,” Kaliam said, finishing her sentence. “He is the only remaining Glimpse who can properly translate the Scroll of Prophecy. If Paragor knows of the scribe, and I fear that he does, he will seek him. The future of all things depends on who gets to the scribe first.”

  “Alas, I have delayed you with my questions!” Lady Merewen cried, rising to her feet. “You must prepare the team!”

  “Nay, m’lady,” Kaliam said. He took her hands in his and brought her to sit again at his side. “We cannot depart for King’s Forest until the warrior from the Mirror Realm arrives. Your questions have helped to clear my muddled mind. In the days to come, I will have much need of your sage advice.”

  “What do you mean, my lord?” she asked.

  “The final riddle,” Kaliam replied. “But by King Eliam’s request, I cannot share it with anyone.”

  Lady Merewen looked up. Her teary eyes flashed blue. Kaliam put a hand gently under her chin.

  They were interrupted by the slamming of the doors, heavy, frantic footfalls, and then a voice. “Lord Kaliam, Lady Merewen, are you here?!”

  And suddenly, Elspeth appeared from one of the paths. She was out of breath, but that did not stop her from talking. “I thought I might find you here,” she began. “You must come to Guard’s Keep right away! Our messenger brings distressing word from the Blue Mountain Provinces: Paragor has Ludgeon under siege!”

  11

  A VISITOR FROM

  THE THREAD

  Wide awake, Aidan tossed and turned in his hotel room bed. He stared at the soft glow underneath the curtain from the outside lights and listened to the hum of the air conditioner. I’m never going to get to sleep! he thought. He turned onto his other side and lifted his head a little. Mom and Dad don’t seem to be having any trouble sleeping.

  Aidan tried to see the little alarm clock radio on the bedside table, but it faced his parents’ bed. It cast a red light upon his mother’s face. Aidan felt a chill and looked away.

  He shimmied down under the sheets and pulled the bedspread over his head. The day sure hadn’t turned out the way he had hoped. He had wasted most of his time with Robby. And Robby’s father had ruined the rest. Lord Rucifel. Aidan sighed. My best friend’s father is Paragor’s chief warlord—or at least, his Glimpse is. How am I supposed to fight that?

  Things hadn’t gone very well with his mother either. When the airport shuttle dropped her off at the motel, she’d practically smothered them both in kisses. That was okay. But later that evening, when Aidan’s father had brought up the subject of King Eliam and the reality of another world, well . . . that was when things had gone sour.

  “Everyone grieves in different ways,” Aidan’s mom had said as she slammed shut her suitcase. “And I know losing your father has been hard on you. But, the truth is, you were right to dismiss Grampin’s crazy ideas in the first place. The Realm, Alleble, King Eliam—it’s all the creation of some writer somewhere. You said it yourself . . . it’s a fairy tale.”

  Aidan winced. His father gritted his teeth. “I was wrong,” he said sullenly.

  “No, you weren’t. You were thinking clearly. You saw that Grampin’s mind was starting to go, and—”

  “You think my dad was senile?” he asked. Aidan’s father pulled an old book from his suitcase and held it up like evidence. “He started writing about King Eliam and The Realm in this diary when he was in his thirties!”

  That was when they had sent Aidan to fill the ice bucket and get some sodas from the machine at the end of the hall. By the time he returned, the discussion had ended, and an icy quiet had descended on the hotel room.

  Aidan shuffled around in bed, trying to get comfortable. But it was no good. He got out of bed and went over to the ice bucket. The sodas were gone. Aidan frowned and stood deep in thought in the darkness. Then, he tiptoed over to his father’s side of the bed.

  “Dad?” he whispered. “Dad, can I walk down to the machine and get a soda?”

  “Huh?” his father mumbled. He rose slowly on an elbow and glanced across the sleeping form of his wife to the clock. “A soda? It’s eleven thirty.”

  “I know, but I can’t sleep, and I’m thirsty.”

  “I guess,” Mr. Thomas replied. “Take the room key, and hurry back. And don’t get anything with caffeine in it. Then you really won’t be able to sleep.”

  The night air was cool. Maryland was like that in September—hot like summer during the day, but cool like fall at night. Except for the occasional whoosh of cars on the interstate, it was very quiet. Aidan trotted along the walkway. He passed hotel room doors on
his left and caught luminous, wavering glimpses of the hotel’s pool on his right.

  He stepped up to the soda machine and fumbled through the change in his pocket for five quarters. One at a time, he dropped them in and then scanned for a caffeine-free selection. Looks like ginger ale for me, Aidan thought, and pushed the button. As he reached for his drink he heard behind him a sound like a heavy curtain flapping in the wind. Aidan spun around, glancing toward the blue-green glow of the pool. There was no one there. No breeze either.

  Aidan shrugged, uncapped his drink, and took a long sip. A warm breeze washed over him that made chills tiptoe up and down his spine. Then from the pool area came what sounded like a whip cracking. Aidan jumped, dropped his soda, and turned toward the sound. A pale figure stood very still but shimmered as the pool’s undulating surface reflected waves of light over its body. Aidan stepped barefoot into the grass, making his way toward the pale figure. It was a tall girl with long, golden hair. She was dressed in silver armor. Her skin was pale like ivory, and her eyes were luminous blue like the pool.

  “Gwenne!” Aidan shouted, and he ran to her. “Gwenne! What are you—how are you . . . I can’t believe it!” They embraced for a moment and each had tears in their eyes when they parted.

  “Sir Aidan,” Gwenne said at last with that crooked smile of hers. “It seems you were right.”

  Aidan looked at her strangely. “What do you mean?”

  “Before you left The Realm that night, you said to me, ‘See you soon!’ And by the favor of our King, here we are.”

  “Gwenne,” Aidan said. “I’ve had visions, dreams about you. You looked frightened. And Antoinette—your twin—I fear she is in trouble!”

  “And so we both are,” Gwenne replied, “in very grave danger. I have been in your world for just a short time, but I have been constantly assailed by the enemy.”

  “Here?” Aidan exclaimed.

  “Yes, Aidan,” Gwenne replied. “Did you think that only servants of Alleble could travel to the Mirror Realm? I’ve come by what is called The Thread. It is the last remaining link between your world and mine, and the path the visions travel. But it is traveled by all Glimpse-kind, and within it I was waylaid by those not true to the King. Aidan, it is the way you will return to The Realm.”

  Aidan was stunned. “I’m going back?”

  “Yes. I was sent to tell you it is the King’s will that you return to The Realm. But I also bring warning: Be wary of all you meet—in this world and in mine. Not everyone is who they appear to be.”

  Aidan frowned. He felt strangely like he did the first time he met Gwenne—like everything she said was a riddle.

  “What task does the King have for me?”

  “I do not know, Aidan,” she said. “But the King has told me you will return on The Thread, and that The Thread has grown unstable—stretched near to its breaking point. Traveling The Thread has become a dangerous journey.”

  There came a sudden, alarming sound like the crackle of electricity, and a strange warm breeze blew from somewhere behind Gwenne. And as if a bright light was slowly losing power, Gwenne began to fade.

  “Gwenne, what’s happening to you?” Aidan cried. He reached for her, touched her skin, and a shock went up his arm. He immediately jerked his hand back.

  “I am being drawn back to The Thread!” Gwenne cried.

  “What?” Aidan blurted out. The breeze vanished, and suddenly Gwenne was completely there again. Her hands were trembling.

  “Aidan,” she whispered. “Take my hands.” Aidan reached for Gwenne. This time her skin did not shock him. She felt warm.

  “Gwenne,” Aidan asked, “what was that?”

  “The Thread,” she replied, glancing nervously over her shoulder as if something might be creeping up behind her. “I thought for a moment that the enemy had found me and was pulling me back. I do not understand how The Thread works, so I do not know how much longer I can remain.”

  At that moment three things happened simultaneously: someone called Aidan from behind, the warm wind kicked up even stronger than before, and there was a loud snapping sound like a large branch had been broken.

  Aidan felt a painful quiver in his hands. It began to burn. Gwenne’s pale skin dimmed and she began to fade. “Aidan!” she shouted. “You must let me go!”

  Aidan felt as if he held a white-hot piece of iron, and all the muscles in his arms began to convulse. Still he held on. He felt if he let go, he would lose his friend forever.

  “Aidan!” Gwenne’s voice echoed as if she were in another place. “Aidan, let go!”

  There was a bright flash, a sound like thunder, and Aidan flew backward up into the air. He landed unconscious in the pool and sank like a stone.

  “Aidan! Aidan!” He heard a female voice, but it was not Gwenne’s. Aidan opened his eyes, saw a blurry night sky and then a face.

  “Mom?” Aidan whispered. He stared at her. She was soaking wet. Then Aidan realized he too was drenched. “Mom?”

  “Oh, Aidan!” His mother hugged him. She began to sob, and her whole body shook. “I thought I lost you. You went under so fast.”

  There was a warm hand suddenly on his shoulder. “When Mom pulled you out,” Aidan’s father said, “you weren’t breathing.”

  Aidan sat up abruptly, and his mother slowly released him. He was in the grass about ten feet from the pool. But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember how he got there, or how he got wet for that matter.

  “Who was that?” Mr. Thomas asked. And then, it all came flooding back. Gwenne . . . The Thread.

  Aidan grabbed his mother’s shoulders. “Mom! Did you see her? Did you see Gwenne?!”

  Mrs. Thomas shook her head and burst into fresh tears. “I don’t know what I saw, Aidan! I . . . it can’t be real.” Her voice became a choked whisper.

  By the time Aidan got out of the warm shower and dressed, his father was already fast asleep. His mom was still awake, her back toward him, apparently reading. Aidan shimmied down into his bed once again. He looked across the room at his mom, and she turned away. But she hadn’t turned fast enough to keep Aidan from seeing she was reading The Story, and open in her lap was Grampin’s diary.

  12

  THE KEEPER OF POWER

  Aidan and his father sat in the car outside the woods near Robby’s house.

  “I should be getting to the office, Aidan,” said Mr. Thomas. “I called the Martins, and they said they’d be happy to have you come over if Robby doesn’t show, or . . . if something goes wrong.”

  “The Martins?” Aidan objected. “My old babysitters? Dad, I don’t need a babysitter—”

  “But you might need somewhere to go,” Mr. Thomas argued. “. . . Maybe I should just stay.”

  “Dad, I’ll be all right. It’s just Robby.”

  “I know, but what if his father shows up? If he’s directly in the service of Paragor like his Glimpse, Rucifel . . .”

  “Then I’ll call you on the cell,” Aidan said as he grabbed his backpack and got out of the little orange car. He leaned in the window and smiled bravely at his father. “Besides, if Mr. Pierson showed up and got dangerous, I’d lose him on the trails. I know the woods around our fort like the back of my hand.”

  “Son, I’m worried about you,” he said. “The more I’ve read of Grampin’s diary, the more I understand the evil we are up against. I don’t trust Robby’s father—not by a long shot. It’s too much of a coincidence that he shows up now. And if Robby’s Glimpse already serves Paragor, how can you be sure you can even trust Robby?”

  “I can’t be sure,” Aidan said. “But I’m not alone.”

  Aidan’s father had never seen his fourteen-year-old in this light before.

  “Never alone,” Mr. Thomas said. Aidan smiled as he turned and walked away. “Never alone,” he repeated as he watched his son hike up the gravel road and disappear into the dark, whispering trees.

  Aidan easily found the fort. He and Robby had built it between four towering
pine trees in the heart of the woods. Assembled from an odd assortment of planks, two-by-fours, and sheets of plywood, the fort was as ugly as it could be, but to Aidan and Robby it had been Castle Courage, the home of truth, justice, bravery—and the largest assortment of comic books and hand-held video games known to mankind!

  Aidan stood there for a few moments, letting the memories wash over him. Then he stepped over a few fallen trees, ducked under a low bough, and slid a small square of plywood away from the entrance. No sign of Robby. Aidan carefully laid his backpack on the fort floor and then walked around to the backside. There a shaky ladder stood, leading to the roof of the fort. Aidan climbed to the roof and tested his weight on the old boards. They held. It’s ugly, but it’s strong.

  He brushed away some leaves, stretched out on his back, and stared at the treetops. Aidan watched a single leaf sail on a breeze and then spiral down. He began to feel drowsy.

  “You fall asleep, Aidan?” Robby asked as he climbed onto the fort’s roof.

  Startled, Aidan sat bolt upright. “Yeah,” Aidan said. “I wasn’t sure if you would make it. How’d you get away from your dad?”

  “Aw, he doesn’t much care what I do,” Robby replied, looking into the woods. He gestured into the fort. Aidan followed his friend inside.

  Sitting opposite Aidan, Robby fished out a lantern and flicked it on.

  “The fort feels smaller than I remembered it,” Aidan said.

  “Maybe because you’re bigger,” Robby said. He laughed nervously. “You takin’ vitamins or somethin’? I’d swear you’ve grown since the beginning of the summer.”

  “My mom says the same thing,” Aidan replied.

  An uncomfortable silence settled upon them. Robby began to rock a little, and the lantern cast strange shadows on the fort wall behind him.

  Aidan couldn’t stand the waiting. He was alone with his best friend at last, and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. “I brought the Scrolls with me if you want to look at them again.”