The Portals of Tartae- the Land With the Two Moons

by Marcia Soligo

“I’m not sure. Alegra said that Lars’ hiding place was after the Plains. We will probably find them there, or somewhere near there,” answered Bran. “Olie, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m much better. Thanks. The sun is about to set. I imagine that this isn’t a good place to be in the dark. It wouldn’t be a good place to sleep and wait until tomorrow either.”

  “You’re right. We need to keep going and cross the plains as fast as we can,” said Bran.

  “And can we do it before nightfall?” asked Trevor.

  “I hope so. Riding through the plain terrain will be faster.” Bran was already getting ready to leave again when he turned to the others and said, “Be careful. Things around here will not be as tranquil as they seem. Our path can become tricky.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he headed west and guided the group.

  Trevor followed Bran, galloping fast. The sun was setting, and most of the Tria Plains were behind them; as they rode, the plains changed into a burned wasteland. Little by little, they were getting closer to one of the mountains, and they could see a concentration of trees, and plants at the bottom of it. They kept going and going, but there was no sign of Cordella or the others.

  As they got closer to the mountain, another forest began. A place none of them have ever heard about before. A black forest that was apparently impenetrable. They couldn’t see much from outside, since the forest edge resembled the walls of some sort of fortress. There were trees all over the place, and they were very close together. Between them were tangled ivies and other creeper plants creeping up, creating some kind of web that made the pathway completely impenetrable. And even though the purple light of sunset was still shining over the Tria Plains, it was all dark inside that forest, as though the night had already arrived there–or had never left.

  They stopped their horses and studied what options they had. And as of yet, not a sign of the Clan or anyone who should be waiting for them. Olivia climbed down from her horse and got closer. There was a border, something marking the end of the plains and the beginning of that strange forest. Trevor and Bran followed her and also studied the place for a while. Bran wielded his sword and was about to cut his way in to create a path for them.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” warned Olivia. “I believe that pretty much everything we do here will have consequences we don’t want to deal with. We must find another way.”

  Bran took a step back but didn’t lower his weapon. There was something unusual about that forest, and Olivia felt in no way connected to it.

  “Any sign of Cordella? Or Alavro?” asked Trevor.

  “No,” answered Bran and Olivia at once.

  “And how do we know if they are here? Or if this is the right place?” continued Trevor. His face was full of doubt and fear.

  “They have to be here,” said Olivia, exchanging a hopeful look with Trevor.

  “I hoped they would leave a sign of some sort. Or that they would be waiting for us before the plains …” said Bran, looking from side to side. Trying to find something that probably not even he knew what it was.

  “I just wanted to go home …” Trevor mourned. He said it so low that he might have been talking to himself. For a moment, he who looked older each day they were in Tartae sounded like a child. A lost child that was eager to find their parents, who longed for home and their toys.

  Olivia held Trevor’s hand tightly. A million things passed through her mind. She was desperately trying to find a way to safely cross those weird-looking plants. But, even if she managed to do so, where was the Clan? What if they never made it there? What if they waited for Olivia, Trevor, and Bran? What should they do now? If this was it, and she was by herself now, she was far from knowing what to do. She had not the slightest idea how to destroy the Portals, how to look for the Book, or how to deal with Edmund Lars.

  Olivia sensed something hovering over her head. A shadow was flying fast over the three of them. They were all scared and ready to fight when they saw Atlas, the Eagle Guardian. She landed on one of the horses and stared at them with piercing brown eyes.

  “This is Atlas, isn’t it?” asked Trevor.

  “Yes!” answered Bran.

  The eagle looked at them and flew further away from the group and then started to go in circles over a certain point at the edge of the black forest.

  “I guess we must follow her,” said Trevor.

  “What are we going to do with the horses?” asked Olivia.

  “We will let them go. They will be fine, Olie. They like the forest,” answered Bran.

  Olivia petted both of the horses and thanked them. Bran took off their saddles, and they rode toward the Tria Forest, far away from the group.

  Olivia, Trevor, and Bran followed Atlas. The bird was spiraling in the air, pointing at something, showing them a way inside the black forest. There was a small opening in the ground. Someone had dug their way through the dirt and underneath all the plants. It wasn’t large, only big enough for an adult to slide inside. And it wasn’t very inviting either, since they couldn’t see anything inside.

  The eagle quickly dove into the hole and was followed by Olivia, Bran, and Trevor. They slid and landed inside a tunnel, also quite small and claustrophobic. Its walls were all dirt, and the place didn’t look safe; it looked like an improvised pathway whose walls could crumble down at any moment.

  They walked for some minutes in the complete darkness until a beam of light came in the tunnel, showing an exit. They were now inside that strange forest. There, the plants weren’t as tangled as outside anymore, and the vegetation was more similar to what they were used to, even though the place was still quite sinister and dark. Olivia was under the impression that the plants there were lifeless. They didn’t emanate any kind of energy. Nothing good or bad. They could very well be made of plastic.

  Atlas was still guiding them through the black forest. It was night, but the two moons weren’t shining, making the path very dark and difficult. However, Olivia wasn’t even sure if the light would touch that place. Everything was so gloomy and hopeless. Suddenly, Atlas began flying faster. Olivia, Trevor, and Bran started to run, but it was hard to keep up with the animal.

  “Bran, Trevor, can you hear it?” asked Olivia, stopping her friends abruptly. Trevor and Bran paused for a moment to hear screams and the clanging of swords at a distance.

  “Alegra!” said Trevor, already running.

  Olivia and Bran followed him as fast as they could, their weapons in their hands. As they got closer, the noise got louder, and what was happening became clear. There was a glimpse of hope inside Olivia that maybe those screams belonged to someone else, to some other fight. They finally got to some sort of a garden, and there they were: Cordella, Alavro, Belenos, Alegra, Kirk, and Orion fighting with trolls, phookas, and Baltazar Fletce.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Shapeshifter

  The blood seemed to have left Olivia’s body. Her hands were cold, and her heart was beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird. It was time, and again nothing was happening as they had planned.

  A number of questions flew inside Olivia’s head. What had happened there? Was Lars waiting for them? Was it all a trap? She was completely paralyzed by all that was happening around her. And she had no idea what to do. Bran caught her by the arm, and it was like waking up from a dream.

  “Olie, we must go!” urged the boy. His eyes were wide open and serious.

  Trevor was already somewhere in the battle. Olivia couldn’t see him. There were bits of fire scattered all around, smoke, blood, and dirt. Olivia finally managed to find Cordella; the witch was fighting with Baltazar Fletce, which was impressive to witness. The way Cordella moved was almost choreographed, resembling a brutal ballet in which she would escape gracefully from each and every strike or spell Baltazar threw at her. Cordella looked tall and majestic, as if magic were making her grow and reach a level of stamina that didn’t agree with her age. On Cordella’s face, there was the strength of an amaz
on. She was glowing.

  Olivia smelled the putrid breath of a troll creeping behind her neck. She turned and struck her sword into the creature’s chest, while a phooka was already attacking her on her right. She raised her arms and closed her eyes, enveloping the creature’s body in flames that came out of the ground in a brownish blaze. Some other trolls attacked her, but Olivia managed to fight them back successfully, either striking her sword or doing some spell she had learned. She was fast and mindful, fighting back every troll or phooka that came her way. She finally understood what Bran told her when they began their training: in order to succeed in a battle, you must empty your mind and find an almost meditative state. And that’s what she was doing now. She was all there in the battle. All there in those loud sword strikes.

  A phooka yelled and jumped in her direction, making too much noise for someone who wanted to strike her from the back. She turned around and made the fire on the ground chase the creature, who ran away screaming even more.

  At this moment, Baltazar’s gaze looked away from Cordella and searched for Olivia. As their eyes met, Baltazar smiled and ran. During that brief moment in which they looked into each other’s eyes, Baltazar’s face looked even further from human. If his monstrous appearance was hidden by tidiness and an exacerbated effort to look groomed before, now he was completely revolting. His hair was disheveled, and blood was all over his pale face. His teeth were now big and pointy, and his mouth seemed too wide to be real or even part of his face.

  Cordella followed Baltazar’s gaze and found Olivia. As soon as the man ran away, she went in Olivia’s direction and hugged her.

  “What happened, Cordella? What are we gonna do now?” Olivia asked with despair in her voice. The battle sounds were deafening: screams, growls and the clanging of swords.

  “There’s no time. It doesn’t matter how it happened, Olivia. We need to go inside now and look for the Key and the Book.” Olivia tried to say something but Cordella interrupted her. “WE MUST GO NOW!”

  Cordella took Olivia by the hand and ran through the garden toward a staircase made of stones, which were fairly destroyed either by the fight or erosion. The witch looked for Trevor, who was fighting a troll, and waved her hand, guiding one of Trevor’s arrows into the troll’s heart.

  “TREVOR!” yelled Cordella. “WE MUST GO NOW!”

  The boy didn’t hesitate and followed Olivia and Cordella to the stairs. They went up quickly, arriving on a facade made of old stones that were almost completely covered by the most odd looking plants. Here, the moss wasn’t green. Everything was as red as blood, and the plants were moving, crawling over it all slowly, like snakes.

  As they crossed the portal, Cordella stopped abruptly. Gradually, walls were forming all around them; the ruins were disappearing right before their eyes and making way for a majestic house, as though a curtain had been lifted from the rotten ruins to reveal the most sophisticated palace.

  “That was a surprise ...” said Trevor, studying the place.

  “Edmund was always a fan of luxury,” Cordella pointed out. “He wouldn’t change now.”

  Right in front of them, a huge common room appeared in a matter of seconds. The floor was made of dark stones that shone brightly, showing that they were too clean and expensive. An enormous crystal chandelier was now hanging over their heads, adding even more luxury and weirdness to that room.

  “How are we going to find the Book of the Portals, Cordella?” asked Olivia.

  “You two must find it.”

  “How? Aren’t you helping us?” asked Olivia.

  “I am, but the Book has a stronger connection with you two. Try to sense it. I’m afraid there’s not much we can do other than this,” Cordella confessed, killing the little hope they had that the witch would have all the answers they needed. “This place is enormous, and we can’t waste any time. You ought to do your best to find it. Use your connection. NOW!”

  “All right ... What about heading this way?” Trevor pointed to a huge set of double doors on their left. One of them was open, showing a glimpse of the hallway behind it.

  “Not without me!” shouted Bran, running toward them. “I’m coming with you. The group is doing all right out there,” he joked lightly as he caught up with Olivia, Trevor, and Cordella. He was clearly trying to make the tension a little better, but no one really laughed at his effort.

  The truth was that everyone knew that the fight might well be going horribly, but they were too afraid to ask or to even think about it now. They were a small group, and they had no idea how many allies Edmund Lars had. At least they could count on skilled warriors and wizards.

  The whole mansion had that same luxurious and modern design of the grand hall. Most of the halls that they walked through were wide and well-lit by fancy fixtures. But the place was cold, and there were so many entrances, and hallways, and turns that it felt like a labyrinth. And it seemed that there was no soul living in the place. They couldn’t hear any voices, steps, nothing. Oftentimes, Olivia would think that this was all a trap, especially considering Baltazar’s reaction when he put his eyes on her. Surely, Lars’ most trusted ally had run to tell his master that Olivia was there, that killing her was urgent.

  They kept walking fast, passing through hallways that sometimes seemed to have no end. They walked aimlessly, turning right, left, again and again, hoping to feel some sort of call, but nothing changed. There were only hallways without doors, with bare walls painted in a dark shade of gray.

  “This place is odd. I feel like we’re trapped,” said Olivia quietly.

  “And you’re surprised because …” Trevor had a somber and mocking tone in his voice, as if he wished to tell Olivia that they should have known that this wouldn’t be easy, because nothing ever was in this whole experience.

  “This is Lars’ home. He built it with this very day in mind. He is protecting himself, his treasures. This is Lars’ home, but he made it into a trap,” said Cordella. “Come on, Olivia and Trevor. Put your hearts into it. We must find the Book now!” Cordella was assertive, but Olivia and Trevor only felt more cornered. They had no idea if they could manage to do that.

  Until this point, after long minutes that would soon become hours walking around the house, they hadn’t heard a thing. Not even a faint sound of someone closing a door at a distance. There was no vestige of life in the house.

  As they walked through one of the hall doorways, Olivia and Trevor hesitated and suddenly stopped.

  “Do you think–” Trevor didn’t complete his sentence. His eyes were wide open when he found Olivia’s.

  “Yes. I do,” interrupted Olivia, opening the black wooden door on their left side.

  “Careful,” warned Bran, wielding his sword.

  Inside the room, they found a number of chairs aligned in a circle. In the middle, some kind of wooden altar stood tall and pompous as the main piece of decoration. The place barely had any light whatsoever, only two tall weak lamps located right out of the circle of chairs. As they got closer to the altar, they could see a small key over the wooden structure, resting on a velvet cushion. It was fairly rusty and engraved with a symbol that resembled a leafless tree.

  “It’s the lost Key!” said Cordella with relief. Her voice was full of hope and contentment.

  This was the first time Olivia had set her eyes on a Portal Key. She never knew exactly what to expect, but the thing was small, simple, rather rustic. Only a few would think that such an ordinary artifact would carry so much power, would have such a crucial place in the lives of so many people, of so many worlds.

  Cordella took a silver chain from her neck and lopped it through the hole at the base of the key. She then put the necklace on Olivia. It felt unexpectedly warm when it touched Olivia’s skin.

  “It doesn’t matter what happens to the rest of us. You two must destroy the Portals. So you should keep that, and keep it safe. Now let’s go. We still need to find the Book.”

  “You really didn’t think it
would be this easy, didn’t you?” said a thin, mocking voice coming from the shadows in the room. The group promptly got their weapons and two phookas came out of the shadows.

  “This key is not going anywhere, old grumpy Cordella,” said one of them.

  “It’s time to retire, old Cordella. You don’t know how to create plans that don’t kill people anymore, old Cordella!” continued the other one, laughing like a hyena.

  Cordella threw her body in front of Olivia, Trevor, and Bran, protecting them and walking slowly backward while the phookas got closer. When Olivia, Trevor and Bran were right in front of the door, Cordella turned to them abruptly and blew hard, making the three of them fall on the hallway floor, pushed by the strong blast of wind. In that fraction of time, before the door was closed, Cordella yelled, “GO!”

  Trevor stood quickly and tried to open the door, which was already locked. They could still hear the noises coming from inside the room, the strikes, and the phookas’ perverse laughs.

  “Let’s go!” said Bran. “She knows what she’s doing, and we need to find the Book. Come on!”

  Trevor and Olivia hesitated for a moment. But there wasn’t much they could do. They finally ran through the mansion, looking for the Book of the Portals. They got into a number of rooms, and the place only seemed to stretch. They were getting lost inside those walls, rooms, stairs, and shadows. Olivia felt stuck inside a luxurious maze, impregnated with a weird and agonizing energy.

  Stairs seemed to appear out of nowhere all around. They would go up and down, and Olivia’s head was already turning. The house was dark, pretty much all painted in gray and black, and even though everything was supposed to be very beautiful and sumptuous, that was not the feeling they were getting inside the peculiar mansion. Olivia, Trevor and Bran were deeply, intensely, greatly lost. And the fact that Cordella was not part of the searching party anymore made them panic a little.

  Olivia and Trevor tried to keep in their minds that they would feel the Book. That their energies were connected, and maybe that would be a calling of some sort. The fact that they had just felt the Portal Key and managed to find it was making them feel more confident about their unique task. After one more sinuous corridor, they stepped inside an oval room where a fireplace was crackling soundly; they saw a wide staircase at the end of it and headed upstairs. Edmund Lars’ entire house was freezing, and the fireplace seemed to have accepted a challenge that was way beyond its capabilities. The energy in the place was only getting worse and worse, and there was no sign of the Book of the Portals yet. Olivia was already asking herself if the thing would really be hidden in that vile place.