Two Renegade Realms

by Donita K. Paul

  Chomountain’s kind, wise, approving, generous gaze fell on her. He nodded.

  If she recognized him as authority and trusted him, then demanding a full explanation only complicated matters. When there was more time, when everyone was not stretched to their limits, and if she still had questions then, he would answer. She remembered she was a minion and she was glad to let him be the boss.

  Bixby nodded in return.

  When he finished the round of eye contact, he looked over Bixby’s shoulder and smiled. “A tree and shade. Dukmee shall take a nap while I show you how to rig the rocks to explode.”

  Cantor took Dukmee’s arm and assisted him to a comfortable spot.

  When he returned to the group, he found Cho assigning the first chore, gathering rocks about the size of Cantor’s head — his was the largest aside from the dragons. Bixby struggled to lift the cumbersome stones, but she persevered, reluctant to shirk when she knew the others were as tired as she. X’Onaire turned out to be a willing worker. He might look like a fancy painting, but his friendliness and humility brought him acceptance from the group.

  When they’d piled up enough rocks to satisfy Chomountain, he gave them each a bowl.

  “The ingredients in the bowl need to be worked together,” he said. “Your fingers are the best instruments to use. Rub the powders together until they combine to make a uniform color. As you knead the materials, they will become warm and then moist. Eventually, the mix becomes a clay.”

  Bixby sat with the others on the grassy hill, using her crisscrossed legs to hold the bowl steady as she worked at the mixture with both hands. The warm sun felt pleasant, as did the slight breeze. Exhaustion from their morning battle drew her to the edge of sleep. She closed her eyes for a moment and popped them open again. In the dark of her mind lurked the images of burned and maimed comrades. Her mind pulled up words from the Book of Primen to keep the horrors from hounding her.

  She ended up singing in her head the Hands Benediction she had once sung with Cantor in the Sanctuary in Gilead. Remembering his strong voice and the promises of Primen soothed her spirit.

  The others must have been as weary, for no one talked.

  The texture between her fingers changed as she continued to massage the lump of ingredients. The color changed from blue to green, and she busied her mind by imagining what the shade might look like on a pair of gloves.

  Chomountain arrived with a bowl of warm water and towels for them to use, and then he passed out a meal. He’d stuffed small loaves of bread with warm meat and crisp vegetables. The drink he produced must have contained a restorative herb. Bixby felt more refreshed by the simple repast than mere food and drink would have provided.

  “On to our next project.” Chomountain directed them to a crude wooden table, where their bowls and the rocks now waited.

  Cho supplied Bixby with a crate to boost her up to a level at which she could toil with the others. They all stood around the work bench and smeared the clay around the rocks, filling cracks and gouges with the explosive.

  “This is strange.” Bixby gestured with her mud-covered hand to the table and the field around them.

  Chomountain paused and gave her his attention. “How is that?”

  “We’re working here in beautiful surroundings, with songs from the birds and fresh scents of warm grass and flowers.” She shuddered. “This morning we were linked together by a powerful force, and we destroyed all that came to harm us.” She picked up another rock and smoothed clay over its surface. “And here we labor in comfortable serenity, at ease with one another, and not fretting. But we are quietly creating a weapon that will destroy two planes.”

  Chomountain’s face became still, his eyes squinted in thought, his mouth slightly pursed. He took a deep breath of air and let it out. “You are unsettled by calm and chaos being shoulder to shoulder, so to speak.”

  “Yes, I think that’s it.”

  “The intensity of feelings is necessary for us to fully respond to life. But that intensity would burn us to cinders if we did not spend most of our time in a softer, more nurturing emotion.”

  “Isn’t that state almost no emotion?”

  “No,” said Totobee-Rodolow. “We were made to feel. There’s rest in contentment, and contentment rests on soft cushions of love, respectability, and generosity.”

  Cho placed the last clay-covered rock on the table. “We’re done here. Three-fifths of the rocks need to be taken to the eastern edge of Derson to be used against Lyme Major.”

  Chomountain assigned Bixby, Totobee-Rodolow, and X’Onaire to the task of gathering the rocks, storing them in a hamper, and carrying them through a portal to Derson. He pulled Cantor and Bridger aside for a serious conversation.

  Bixby wanted to eavesdrop, but Dukmee had been put in charge of her and gave her no time. Chomountain’s prescription of rest and the refreshing meal had strengthened him considerably. He hurried Totobee-Rodolow, X’Onaire, and Bixby ahead of him through the portal to Derson. He helped unload the rocks to make a stockpile for Cantor’s use.

  “Isn’t anyone else going to help throw these things?” Bixby objected. “How is he going to be able to throw them so far?”

  “When the planes are close, the pull of gravity will do most of the work. Cantor’s aim is what is most important.”

  “Are you going to be here, or are you going back to Zonvaner?”

  “I’m going back to this morning’s battleground. Chomountain has charged me with keeping an eye on the Realm Walkers Guild councilmen.”

  Bixby gasped. She covered her mouth. “I forgot.”

  Dukmee leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Take care of things here.”

  He walked away and through a portal before she recovered from his unusual action. Her hand now touched the warm spot left by his kiss.

  Totobee-Rodolow had come up beside her.

  “He kissed me, Totobee-Rodolow.”

  “I saw, darling. Take your hand away.”

  She turned to look at her constant and let her hand drift down to her side.

  Totobee-Rodolow seriously examined Bixby’s face. “Well, darling, there’s no bruise. I think you shall live.”

  Bixby’s eyes widened, then she burst into laughter. “If I survived what we did this morning, I’m sure I’ll survive a kiss.”

  They settled down to wait for Chomountain, Cantor, and Bridger. Lyme Minor, being smaller, would pass more quickly over Zonvaner, which was smaller than Derson. The rigors of the day settled on them, and they dozed as they waited.

  Bixby sat up abruptly when she heard Cantor holler. He ran through an open portal, scooped her up off the ground, and whirled around. Her feet flung out and her skirts billowed as he laughed. She joined his laughter. It was impossible not to. Before he put her down, he kissed both of her cheeks and the top of her head.

  Bridger loped through the portal, with Chomountain making a more sober entrance behind him.

  The dragon rushed to Bixby and his sister. “You should have seen him. He didn’t miss once, not once.”

  Bridger pantomimed throwing something, waited a moment, then spread his arms wide, making an explosion noise with his mouth. “We were too far away to see the rocks hit the ground, but it was easy enough to see the flashes of light. And before Cantor was finished with that plane, the rim closest to us had tilted down. Chomountain says once it passes through the curtain, it’ll spin. I’d like to see that.”

  Cantor strode over to Totobee-Rodolow and offered her a hand as she stood.

  She patted his cheek. “I’m proud of you, dear boy.” She looked over her shoulder at the dark mass in the sky. “And you’ve come in time to do the same rocky thing to Lyme Major.”

  Cantor grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chomountain greeted Bixby, Totobee-Rodolow, and X’Onaire. He clapped a hand on Cantor’s shoulder. “It’ll be a couple of hours before the plane is in position. You need to relax that arm.” He held up a finger and patted the sides of his bea
utiful robes. He pulled out a jar. “Have Bixby rub this into your shoulder. The oil will keep your muscles from getting stiff while you rest. And you’ll smell nice. Always good to know you’re putting off a nice clean, fresh scent.”

  Chomountain opened the bottle, put it under his nose, and took a huge sniff. He coughed and sputtered, his eyes watered, and he tried to recap the bottle but missed the opening each time he directed the stopper at the top.

  Cantor took jar and top from his hands. Without smelling it, he secured the lid.

  Through wheezes, Cho told him, “It’ll help — just don’t push it up your nose.”

  Totobee-Rodolow put a pointy claw gently against Bixby’s back and gave an infinitesimal push. “Go.”

  Bixby twisted her neck to look at her constant. “He —”

  “I know, darling.” Her husky voice was just above a whisper. “He kissed you. As before, there are no bruises. So go on now, use your healing hands to keep him from pain.”

  Cantor had taken his shirt off and sat on a large boulder. He handed her the jar as she came up to him. Without a word, he put his large hands around her waist and lifted her onto the smooth surface of the rock.

  “The right shoulder?” she asked.

  He nodded and tilted his head down and away from that side. She poured oil in her hand, put the bottle down, and began to smooth the healing herb over his neck and shoulder.

  Once she touched him and began to work the oil along the muscles, she lost her shyness. While she worked, he described the rock throwing and had her laughing at the description of Bridger’s enthusiastic cheering.

  Later in the day, she watched as Bridger handed him the weapons, and Chomountain gave enthusiastic instructions on where to throw them. Lyme Major had passed over them, slid downward as it skimmed past the edge of Derson, and hung close.

  At that point, Bixby thought they could have built a long bridge to cross over. That moment passed quickly, and the explosions urged the renegade plane away. She found herself cheering along with Bridger, Cho, and X’Onaire. After a bit, even sophisticated Totobee-Rodolow added her “Bravo!” to the shouting. Bridger held a rock in each hand, ready to pass them to Cantor. “You’ve only got two blasters left.”

  “Hold off while I think.” Chomountain stood between Cantor and Bridger, his hand on his beard as he thought.

  “Can you throw two at once, young man?”

  Cantor only contemplated the distance for a second. “No sir, not with any accuracy.”

  “All right, then. Here is the alternative. You and your constant will toss the last rocks simultaneously. Bridger, you’re to release your control over the throw. Cantor, you are to be as one with Bridger. The two of you will forge a bond much like the V of Force, but Cantor will determine the trajectories of the missiles. He will control your muscles as well as his own.”

  The right hand of Primen didn’t wait for them to agree. He stepped back and nudged Bridger to a position beside Cantor.

  A look of doubt crossed Cantor’s face, but the fleeting emotion disappeared as a grin took control.

  Bixby clutched Totobee-Rodolow’s hand. “Look at them. They’re beaming at each other like mindless clowns.”

  Totobee-Rodolow squeezed her hand. “I think my brother has finally convinced his constant they work well together.”

  Chomountain pointed out the location at which he wanted the explosives to land. The constant pair took up their stances.

  Bixby held her breath. “Oh, what are they waiting for?”

  Totobee-Rodolow answered with a gentle squeeze and a hissing, “Shh!”

  The two pulled back in unison. Aimed. And threw.

  “Duck!” yelled Chomountain.

  Bixby didn’t have the presence of mind she needed. She stood watching as the others fell facedown and covered their heads. From behind, someone tackled her frozen form and pushed her down, covering her body with his own.

  The blast reverberated through the air, and it seemed the plane trembled beneath her. Rock and dirt debris showered around them. When all was still, the weight of her rescuer shifted and rolled to the side. She found herself smiling at Dukmee.

  They stood. Even as they checked with one another to make sure there were no injuries, Bixby and the others laughed and congratulated themselves. In the distance, half of the renegade realm had entered the curtain. But the plane was tilting. For a moment, it stood straight up and down within the curtain. Then the top edge moved down and the plane was completely upside down and still turning. Bridger gave a final flip in the air and a cheer. The dreaded encounter with two renegade realms had passed. Together they had risen to the need and met the challenge.

  Bixby breathed in the evening air, just a trace of smell from the explosive clay clung to the breeze. Tomorrow that would be gone. Maybe tomorrow they’d enter into that comfortable zone between exhilaration and panic. After the last few weeks, she, for one, was ready.

  ALWAYS A FLY

  I have disturbing news.” Dukmee’s words forced themselves into the calm.

  Every eye turned to him.

  “There was an explosion in the tent cluster housing the councilmen.”

  “Of course,” muttered Chomountain, shaking his head. “Leave them alone for an hour, and they begin destroying each other.”

  “A dozen survived.”

  Bixby gasped. “That means fifty-four perished.”

  “More than that, I’m afraid.” Dukmee clasped his hands together in front of him at waist level. “Those near the tents were also killed or injured.”

  Cantor’s solemn face told his concern. “We’ll return and aid the healers. I wonder if our three loyal members are among the dozen who survived.”

  “There’s more.” Dukmee shrugged as if to get rid of the stigma clinging to his news. “Not all of the pods that carried the last invaders were destroyed.”

  Chomountain let out a groan. “They must be demolished. The order came from Primen.”

  “They’ve disappeared.”

  “Of course,” Chomountain said again. “Everything seems to be all right, and then you discover a fly in the ointment.”

  Bridger leaned forward. “The pods are flies in the ointment?”

  “No, the people who absconded with the pods are the flies.”

  The dragon bobbed his head knowingly. “The councilmen are flies.”

  Chomountain gave a snort. “An apt description.”

  Bixby felt despair rise up and take her by the throat. For a moment, she’d allowed herself to believe that only good would come of this tremendous struggle.

  Totobee-Rodolow must have felt the direction of her thoughts. Her mor dragon friend rubbed a soothing hand across her back. “Fear not. Primen is with us. Do not lose hope, for we are alive and can serve Him.”

  Chomountain added his voice. “Primen is ready to guide us into the next adventure.”

  Cantor crooked a smile in her direction. “As Ahma says, ‘Life marches on . . .’ ”

  Bixby knew the rest of the saying. “Should we not put on our shoes and go with it?”