The Final Storm

by Wayne Thomas Batson

“I do not believe it!” Nock said. “No one has been able to sad-dle—much less befriend—that creature!”

  Robby made another clicking sound, and Splinter took off from that spot and soared into the sky. She did a shallow loop, scattering loose straw all over Nock and Mallik before finally landing again in her pen.

  “How did you do it?” Mallik asked, brushing straw from his armor.

  “I don’t really know,” Robby replied. “I was cleaning her pen, and well, she just kind of warmed up to me. I’ve been that way with animals for most of my life.”

  Mallik, Nock, and Robby talked about many things: the goings-on in The Realm, their adventures with Aidan, and the possibilities of Robby’s mission. Robby didn’t know much about that. Mallik and Nock did, but they would tell him precious little. They did not want to say anything without leave of their Sentinel.

  Often their conversation turned to Pennath Ador. They found that the three of them had in common a love for mountains, and in short order they became friends. With the sun beginning to fall toward the horizon, Mallik and Nock needed to leave. “We are due to meet with Kaliam,” Nock said. “But we will see you tonight at the ceremony.”

  “What ceremony?” Robby asked.

  Mallik laughed. “Kaliam certainly enjoys keeping the new ones in suspense, does he not?”

  “C’mon, you guys,” pleaded Robby. “Tell me something!”

  “You will see,” Nock replied with a wink.

  They started to go, but Robby asked, “Before you leave, I was wondering . . . do you know if it would be okay for me to take a little walk at the foot of the mountains?”

  “That would be no little walk,” Nock replied. “But certainly it is permitted. I often go there myself. There is the beginning of a trail on the other side of the Elder Guard’s training compound. The path follows a steep incline through a dense patch of pines and will eventually lead you to the base of Pennath Ador. But do not linger past sundown, or you will miss your own ceremony!”

  And with that, they departed.

  Robby followed the narrow winding path through the pines, and just as Nock had foretold, it grew quite steep. Eventually, he broke through to the other side of the evergreens. And there it was. It really looks different up close, Robby thought. He couldn’t even see the snowcapped peaks. Just a sheer face of stone, much of it gray and angular with juts and clefts, and a few large fields of another kind of rock, smooth and white. Robby continued to look up until his neck ached. Standing at the foot of such a giant made him feel very small. Yet Robby felt a sense of peace—a sense of being pro-tected by the great walls of stone all about him. Robby actually walked up and placed the palms of his hands on the stone. It felt cool, but somehow vibrant. Robby smiled.

  “You like these mountains, do you not?” came a voice from behind. Robby turned and saw an older Glimpse warrior, clad all in white, sitting upon a stone. Robby hadn’t heard anyone approach, but there he was as if he’d been there all along.

  “You like these mountains?” he repeated, and Robby found his voice somewhat familiar . . . though he could not say where he had heard it before.

  “They’re awesome,” Robby replied. “Where I’m from, we don’t have any mountains like these.”

  “Yes, I know,” the Glimpse replied. “There are no mountains like these anywhere in this world. These are the first mountains born in all of history. They are very powerful.”

  “When I touched them, I felt . . .” A word came to Robby’s mind, but he did not speak it aloud.

  “You felt loved.”

  Robby stared at the old Glimpse. How did he—

  “Of course the mountain itself does not express love,” the Glimpse continued, interrupting Robby’s thoughts. “But like all pure things at the dawn of time, they were washed in the love of their creator. In spite of The Schism, there are some who can still feel the pulse of that time. Some who can touch the memory of The Realm undefiled. You are such a one.”

  Robby stared. The old Glimpse stared back and sat so very still that he almost looked like he was carved from the stone upon which he sat. He was a curious being. Long, straight white hair flowed like a river over his broad shoulders. His mustache and beard were also long, straight, and white. Only his eyebrows were a bit unruly. They too were white, but they were bristly and thick, especially at the bridge of his nose where they seemed almost to meet. His eyes were utterly blue—even in the failing light. And as Robby stared into them he saw a depth of intensity he had never seen before. There was bright, beaming gladness there, but also wrenching sorrow. There was great fatherly pride, but also disappointment. Empathy and indignation. Love and wrath. The only emotion Robby did not see in his eyes was fear.

  And there was one other thing that Robby did not see in the old Glimpse’s eyes: He did not see them glint a color. Not even once. “Please, sir,” Robby said. “Tell me your name.”

  “My name?” he echoed. “I am surprised that you do not already know it. But come closer and let us talk.”

  He saw that the strange being was girt with an immense sword, but Robby felt no threat. He stood right before him and waited. At a gesture, Robby sat down upon another stone. They were silent for many moments. Robby’s mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions—like a barely simmering pot that suddenly came to a rolling boil.

  “You still have doubts,” said the stranger. It wasn’t a question.

  “Doubts?”

  “About all this,” the old Glimpse replied, holding out his arms. “About many things.”

  Robby suddenly felt on the spot. “Doubts, I’m not sure if—”

  “It is okay to have them,” he said. “A doubt is nothing more than an invitation . . . an invitation to think. So, tell me, what have you been thinking about?”

  “My father,” Robby whispered. And as soon as the words came out, he wondered why he shared them with this stranger. But his deepest thoughts began to pour freely out as if he were talking to his closest friend. “Well, it’s just that Dad’s on the other side. I don’t think he’ll change, and . . . I don’t want him to die.” Tears streamed down Robby’s cheeks, and he choked as he tried to speak again. “There’s so much at stake, but he doesn’t see. Mama and Jill—them too! I don’t know . . .”

  “I know the separation that you feel,” said the Glimpse. He put a warm hand on Robby’s shoulder. “And I never intended for you—for any—to have to feel it like this. But take heart! You are never alone.”

  “But my family . . .”

  “There is yet time for your mother and your sister. But your father made his decision a long, long time ago. He was deceived, and because of his willful refusal to seek the truth, he can no longer see it.”

  “But there’s a chance, right?” Robby asked.

  The Glimpse nodded.

  “I’ve got to try, don’t I?”

  “Very well, Robby,” said the Glimpse. And it seemed that the sun had gone down, for the base of the mountain was robed in shadow. “You have decisions to make, beginning with this one: You can aban-don your mission here and return to your realm—”

  “But I don’t even know what my mission is,” Robby said.

  “You know that you have been given a mission,” said the Glimpse, “and that is enough. The choice is whether you will fulfill that mission or return to your world in the hope of bringing your family to the point of turning. Some good will come of either deci-sion, but you must choose tonight.”

  Robby nodded miserably. “It’s . . . it’s hard,” he said.

  The old Glimpse stood. “You demonstrated your trust,” he said quietly, “when you entered The Door Within. The only thing you must decide is whether you will continue to trust.”

  Robby watched as the Glimpse walked slowly to the path that led through the evergreens. He turned and looked one last time at Robby, and he smiled. Then he vanished into the trees.

  Robby buried his head in his hands and wept.

  Not a moment later, someone put a he
avy hand on his shoulder. “Robby?” came a deep voice. “Are you all right?”

  Robby looked up and there was Mallik, leaning on his immense hammer. “Nock told me you had probably come this way. But you are distraught. Has something happened?”

  “I’m okay,” Robby said, standing and wiping the last of his tears away. “It’s just that I kind of lost it when I was talking to the old knight about my family.”

  “Old knight?” Mallik looked confused.

  “Yeah,” Robby replied, pointing to the path. “I mean, he looked old—still real strong—but old. You must have passed him on the path.”

  “I passed no one on the path,” Mallik said.

  “But you must’ve.”

  Mallik shook his head. They stood in awkward silence for some time.

  “Come, Master Robby,” Mallik said at last. “I cannot solve this mystery you have suggested. But perhaps Kaliam can. Now we should go. Many have gathered in your honor. I came to bring you to the main hall on time.”

  “The ceremony?”

  “Yes,” Mallik replied. “The very one.”

  They turned to leave, but Mallik stumbled over a pumpkin-sized gray stone. “That smarts!” Mallik said, laughing at his own clumsi-ness. “But I suppose it could have been much worse. That stone could have just now fallen from up high and hit me in the head!”

  Robby laughed so hard it hurt.

  “Hey,” Mallik said, with a mischievous wink of the eye. “Before we go, would you like to see something?”

  Robby nodded vigorously.

  “Right, now stand aside,” Mallik said, a grin widening on his face. He snatched up his hammer to a great height. “Now watch the stone. You will see sparks for sure!”

  Robby watched the stone just as he was told. Mallik flexed his massive arms and swung his great hammer down. There was a sound that reminded Robby of the icemaker on his fridge at home, and the stone exploded in a shower of green and yellow sparks!

  “That was incredible!” Robby exclaimed. “Your hammer can break rocks?”

  “The head of this weapon was forged of murynstil,” Mallik replied. “And my grandsire found a way to flash-temper it to a hard-ness beyond any stone in The Realm.”

  “Cool!”

  “Well, almost any stone,” Mallik corrected himself. “It takes me several swings to break the blue granite of my homeland, but it eventually shatters.”

  “Can you do it again?” Robby asked.

  “We really ought to get back,” Mallik said, grinning.

  “Please!” Robby said. “C’mon, Mallik. Just one more time.”

  “All right,” Mallik conceded at last.

  Robby grinned and stood a few paces back as Mallik went over to the large white stone upon which the old Glimpse had been sit-ting. “Now this should please your desires!” Mallik said, and again he hoisted his hammer high. With great strength and terrible force, Mallik slammed the hammer down upon the white stone.

  There was a thunderous sound that echoed off the face of Pennath Ador. But this time the stone did not shatter. Mallik’s ham-mer bounced and fell out of his hands. He ran in a tight circle, clutching his hands as if burned.

  “GREAT MOONRASCALS!!!” Mallik howled.

  “Are you okay?” Robby asked.

  “Aye, lad!” Mallik replied, picking up his hammer. “I just must have missed the center with my stroke. It does that sometimes. Now stand back.”

  Mallik took a deep breath and brought his hammer crashing down upon the white stone. And again the hammer bounced without so much as a tiny spark. Mallik dropped his hammer and screamed at the mountain. Then he ran back and picked up his hammer for a third try. This time when he lifted his hammer, he brought the head so far back that it almost touched the ground behind him. Mallik’s eyes bulged as he wrenched his body and swung the hammer in a huge arc.

  The hammer’s head struck the stone a mighty blow. A sound like a cannon shot bounced off the mountain, and a small chip of white shot into the woods. There had been no spark, but a small lick of fire sprouted on the white stone and danced there for a moment before flickering and going out. Suddenly the top of a small pine tree top-pled over and fell—exactly where the chip of stone had gone.

  “Did you see that?” Robby asked.

  “Aye, I saw it,” Mallik replied. “I saw it, but I do not believe it!”

  “The old Glimpse who was here said this mountain was the very first mountain, that the white stone is powerful.”

  “No doubt about that,” Mallik said. He whistled. “Why, this rock here is harder than the blue granite from my . . .”

  Mallik’s voice trailed off, and he stared up suddenly at the mas-sive face of gray, and among that, the huge fields of white stone.

  “What?” Robby asked, looking from the white stone by his feet and back to the mountain.

  Mallik grabbed Robby by the collar of his tunic. “Hurry! We need to get back to the castle!” And Mallik lumbered off into the pines.

  “What?” Robby asked, stumbling after him. “What’s going on?”

  “Well-done, Robby!” came Mallik’s voice from up ahead. “You may have just saved the Kingdom of Alleble!”

  26

  THE GOOD

  CONFESSION

  While rushing up the passage from his chamber, Robby turned a corner and ran smack into a young Glimpse maiden. They tum-bled awkwardly to the ground. Clad in his armor, Robby had landed on his back and looked like a turtle.

  “Oooh, I knew I should have worn my armor!” the Glimpse said, and she was on her feet immediately, brushing the dust off a long emerald-green gown.

  “I’m real sorry about that,” Robby said. “It’s just that I don’t know my way around the castle and—” But when he finally got to his feet and saw her, he forgot what he was about to say. She had extremely long straight black hair that fell in dark locks behind her neck and back. And some draped on either side of her ears.

  “Well?” she said, her raven dark eyes smoldering. “Where were you going in such a—” And then it was her turn to be suddenly awestruck. “You, you are not Glimpse-kind,” she said, regaining some composure. “But I feel I have met you be—” She took in a sharp breath and put her hands to her mouth. “Kearn!” she exclaimed with sudden recognition. “Nay, but Kearn’s twin from the Mirror Realm!”

  Robby blushed. “That’s me. My name is Robby Pierson.” But then he felt obligated to say, “But I’m not like that Kearn guy.”

  “I daresay you are not!” She laughed. “You are a warrior of Alleble now. Well-met, I say! I am Trenna Swiftfoot.” She held out her hand demurely, expecting Robby to kiss it in the manner of a chivalrous knight. Robby took her hand in his and shook it vigor-ously instead.

  Trenna drew her hand back and smiled. “And from what I have heard,” she continued, “you are to join me in the ceremony tonight.”

  “I am?” Robby looked at her questioningly.

  She nodded.

  “Oh, righ-ight,” he said.

  There was an awkward silent moment. “Do you know the way to the Great Hall? See, that’s why I ran into you—I was lookin’ for it, but got kinda lost.”

  “I will lead you,” she said. “Keep up with me, if you can.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard,” Robby replied.

  “Oh, really?” Trenna raised an eyebrow, and before Robby knew it, she was gone.

  She beat him to the Great Hall—beat him soundly. It was all Robby could do just to keep from losing sight of her and getting lost again. When Robby finally made it to the Great Hall, he was drenched with sweat. Trenna, on the other hand, looked dry and cool. A few Glimpse knights and maidens snickered as they passed by Robby and entered the crowded hall.

  “I hope you fight better than you run,” said Nock, who had watched the last leg of their race.

  “It’s hard running in all this armor,” Robby said, tugging at the collar of his tunic.

  “Oh, making excuses now, are we?” Trenna asked.
r />   “No!” Robby replied curtly. “Well . . . yeah, I guess I am. I want a rematch.”

  “Anytime,” she said, smiling sweetly.

  “You two know each other?” Nock asked suspiciously.

  “No!” they replied together as if horrified by the notion.

  “We, uh, just ran into each other tonight,” Trenna clarified.

  Nock’s intense blue eyes scanned them both.

  “Robby Pierson, Trenna Swiftfoot, come forward!” Kaliam commanded from inside the hall. The crowd inside became sud-denly quiet. Robby and Trenna walked slowly in, feeling very self-conscious with all eyes trained on them. They met Kaliam in the front of the vast arched room. Robby saw Mallik, Elspeth, Kindle, Lady Merewen, and several other prominent-looking Glimpses—all dressed in shining bright armor.

  Kaliam smiled at Robby and Trenna and then turned to the crowd. “Knights and ladies of Alleble, friends from Yewland, Mithegard, and Acacia . . . we gather here tonight to witness the good confession of not one but two who would join our ranks!”

  “Hear, hear!” the crowd cheered.

  “Huzzah!” Mallik shouted.

  “Ordinarily,” Kaliam went on, turning back to Robby and Trenna, “this ceremony comes at the end of many years of training and education. But now, by King Eliam’s decree in time of war, we perform this with all confidence and surety.”

  More cheers.

  “And ordinarily, this ceremony is for one warrior at a time. But tonight you both have come. For both of you have been released from a kind of bondage: Trenna, the chains of iron you wore in Baen-Edge; Robby, the invisible chains you wore in the Mirror Realm. But both in bondage manufactured by The Betrayer. On this glorious night we welcome you into an entirely different world where you are free to choose whom you will serve.”

  Kaliam then turned and Kindle came forward bearing a tray upon which lay two gleaming swords. One was short, thin, and beautifully curved. The other was a broadsword with a wide blade and a dragonwing crossguard.

  Kaliam picked up the short sword and said, “Trenna, Robby, kneel before me.”

  The large room became entirely quiet. Kaliam glanced at Lady Merewen. She smiled.