The Fourth Realm (Realms Gate)

by Juliet Anderson

  “Then stop acting like a prima donna. Everything is about you at the moment, Maia, Anja and I don’t exist as far as Mum and Dad are concerned.”

  “You aren’t the one who is going to inherit weird powers and a throne. I’ve a right to be a little jumpy.”

  “Then why don’t you sod off to Lokranor and become the perfect heir. You can leave the rest of us to live normal lives,” Kat retorted angrily to her sister.

  “I will shortly, then I’ll be glad I don’t have to put up with your moods.”

  Arianna flounced out her sister’s bedroom. She wished Kat would be a bit more understanding about what she was going through. From the moment her father officially recognised her as his heir, her life would change. She would be expected to spend most of her time in Lokranor, training with the army as she would eventually lead it. There would be no university for her, instead she would spend her days learning about the history of the Realm and how to defend it for the future. Her father had inherited the throne at a young age, hopefully he would not pass it to her for decades yet.

  All of a sudden she had a desire to see her father. He would put her fears at ease. Stomping down the main stairs, she saw a familiar figure in the hallway. Her day was getting no better.

  “Was that your soft voice echoing from the rafters?” Damon scowled.

  “Yeah. What have I done to warrant a visit from the Dark One’s offspring?”

  Damon suppressed the urge to laugh. Erin often referred to his late father as the Dark Destroyer, or a variation of that, but it was meant more as a term of affection than an insult. “Magnus made me stop in to see how you’re doing.”

  “Fine,” she snapped back. “In perfect health.”

  “Vocal cords are working well too,” he sniggered.

  “As you’re here, you might as well prove useful. I need some sword practice.”

  “You want to wield a regular sword against my Talmar?”

  “It’s not the size or power of the sword that counts, it’s how you use it,” Arianna retorted.

  “So I’ve been told,” Damon’s blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

  “Pig,” Arianna muttered, stalking into the weapons training room. She wished she could have a Talmar, but one could only be passed down from generation to generation and she was in no hurry to speed up her mother’s departure from the world.

  “Why are you so uptight anyway?” Damon asked as Arianna ran at him with her sword.

  “I don’t want to be heir,” she grunted.

  “We can‘t help our birth right, but we can make sure we do what is expected of us.”

  “When did you become so noble?”

  “When I realised what it takes to rule a Realm.”

  “You only rule a territory.”

  “But I rule it. You don’t take over Lokranor for many years yet, I hope.”

  “I’m concerned about what powers I’ll get. Unlike Mum, nothing’s appeared yet and I’m only a couple of weeks away from turning eighteen.” Arianna continued to thrash her sword around wildly.

  Damon lowered his Talmar for a moment. “You’ve got no powers yet?”

  “None.”

  “No hint of being able to control blue energy?”

  “No blue energy.”

  “Symbology?”

  “Nope. It looks like I’m going to get it all at once.”

  “Or perhaps not at all,” Damon frowned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother and I were fully powered up come our eighteenth birthday. Perhaps as your mother is still alive, you won’t get yours yet.”

  “Grandmother was alive when Mum got her powers,” Arianna pointed out, coming at Damon again with a ferocious blow. His Talmar absorbed all the energy from the swing.

  “It’s looking like you’re going to be powerless.”

  “I’m not without power,” Arianna hissed.

  “No. You could deafen your enemies with your screeching.” He ducked out the way of a wild swing of her sword. “Your father is one of the best warriors the Realm has ever had, so perhaps that is your fate. You will just need to marry someone who does have the power to keep the Realm fully defended.”

  “What a nauseating thought.”

  “Why? I’m the perfect Viking specimen.”

  “You’re a toad,” Arianna retorted. “Always were and always will be.”

  “Really?” Damon decided to have a little fun, even though prodding an irritable bear was not a good idea. He sheathed his sword and produced a fine strand of blue energy, wrapping it around Arianna and lifting her off the ground.

  “Put me down, you dick,” she growled.

  “Not until you say something nice.”

  “Something nice,” she glared.

  He shook his head. “Wrong answer. Try again.”

  “I am so going to bust your ass for this.”

  “I’d like to see you try, girlie.”

  Arianna glowered at Damon. She knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to let her go until she apologised. If she played it right, she might get the last laugh. “Fine. I’m sure you are appealing to some women out there.”

  “Not really a compliment. Try harder.”

  Arianna barred her teeth. “You are an impressive Viking warrior.”

  Damon gave a wide grin. “See. That wasn’t so hard.” He lowered her to the ground and released the blue energy around her. Two seconds later he was flat on the floor. Arianna had laid him out with a punch to the stomach then one to the face.

  “Try that again and I’ll castrate you.” She trod on him before stalking out the room.

  Arianna retreated to the safety of her bedroom. Much as she disliked to agree with him, Damon might be right in that she may not get any powers at all. Strangely enough that bothered her too. The last thing she wanted to do was be a disappointment to her parents. And she hated Damon having superior power to her. He ruled a territory, she would rule an entire kingdom. He would not hesitate to point out what she lacked every time they met.

  She flopped down on her bed thoroughly pissed off with the world. She couldn’t even get her basic skills right at the moment, what hope was there for the future.

  Kat decided she needed a ride to clear her head. She did not know why but of late all she did was argue with those she loved the most. She and Arianna couldn’t even have a basic conversation without bawling at each other. Something just didn’t feel right with her; she wasn’t sick, she hoped, but she could almost feel her body changing from within. Was it hormonal? It would have been nice to have a mother to talk to, but all she seemed interested in was planning Arianna’s big banquet. Somewhere along the way, her parents had forgotten she even existed. That hurt. She’d always been very close to her father but he no longer cared much about his, his sole interest seemed to be in upskilling his army to protect Arianna. She had become invisible to her family.

  She took off in the direction of the woods and decided to take the path that would take her to Falsteg ruins; her favourite place on the estate. All that was there were the remains of a stone arch that used to be a priory or some such place of worship, the structure of the building having crumbled centuries previously and the area overtaken with ivy. Beside the ruins ran a small brook, the sound of which was totally calming. Kat jumped down off her horse and tethered her to a tree whilst she walked around the ancient site. Her mind was so preoccupied she didn’t see it at first; the hint of amber reflecting in the weak sunshine. Kneeling down to part the ivy at the base of the archway, she found a beautiful stone. It looked like dark amber with a fiery interior, one of the most stunning stones she had ever seen. As she picked it up, a jolt of energy seemed to shoot through her. It was a very strange place to bury a treasure. She slipped in into her jacket pocket, Jasper might be able to tell her more about it. Walking back to her horse she didn’t notice the root sticking up, not until she was face down on the hard ground.

  “Are you alright, my lady?” a strange voice b
ehind her made her jump. She thought she was totally alone.

  She turned to see a young man in full Viking dress, his accent was heavy and he spoke in the same dialect of Norse they did in Lokranor. Had her father arranged a bodyguard for her and not told her? It would just like him to do something so underhand.

  “I am fine, thank you.” She accepted the hand that was offered as he pulled her to her feet; she winced as soon as she put weight on her foot.

  The Norse stranger picked her up and sat her on the edge of the stone arch. “It seems are you are less than so.”

  “So it does,” she smiled. “I am sure it is nothing, just a mild strain.” She surveyed the young man. He had mid-length shaggy blond hair and deep amber-coloured eyes; he was definitely rather cute. Even his smile was attractive. For the first time in her life, Kat felt a small shiver of excitement race through her veins; it was an odd sensation that left her feeling quite flustered. More so when she realised the young man had just been scrutinising her as well.

  “You are oddly dress for a lady,” he remarked.

  “This is usual attire for a woman,” she smiled. “It appears it is you who are out of place.”

  “Out of place?”

  “You are from Lokranor or one of its territories, aren’t you?”

  “Where is Lokranor?” his brows knit together.

  Okay, not a Viking then, Kat thought to herself, well at least not one in her father’s employment. Perhaps he was with a local group doing some sort of battle re-enactment and had lost his way through the woods. Although that would not explain his ancient dialect. “Where are you from?” she asked.

  “Mallenvaar.”

  “I’ve not heard of it before. How did you get here?”

  “By accident it seems. One moment I was in Mallenvaar and the next here.”

  “You must have come through a gateway,” Kat mused out loud.

  “A gateway?”

  “Yes. They connect the Realms together, although I have not heard of Mallenvaar.”

  “And where is here?”

  “Muirhead, in the First Realm. I’m Katya, by the way.”

  “Ulrik,” he nodded.

  Kat decided to test her ankle again, it was painful but bearable. “Can you remember where you appeared?”

  “The archway,” he pointed to the space next to her.

  Of course, Kat thought, it could have been an official gateway. “What is on the other side? A similar arch?”

  “Yes, very similar, settled amongst the deserted ruins of a temple. But I have been through it many times and never appeared elsewhere.”

  “Something must have changed to have activated it,” Kat thought.

  “So it would seem.” He tilted his head and studied her further. “Do young ladies usually walk unprotected through the woods?”

  “These woods are part of my family’s estate. Besides I was riding and I am more than capable of defending myself.”

  “But it appears you have not yet mastered walking,” his wonderful amber eyes twinkled.

  “Sadly I’m dreadfully clumsy, a virtue I inherited from my mother.”

  He laughed. “If it’s any consolation, my father accuses me of having none of his virtues or vices. For which I am dearly grateful.”

  Kat glanced at her watch, she should really head home, not that anyone could be bothered enough to miss her. “I must get back.”

  “Likewise but I am finding it difficult to leave. Do you often come to these ruins?”

  “Yes, it is my favourite place on the estate.”

  “Will you be here tomorrow?”

  “Perhaps,” she smiled, trying not to sound too eager.

  “Then maybe we will meet again. In the meantime, I will help you mount your horse.”

  Kat was grateful for the boost up into the saddle, she really was crap at swinging herself up without a decent block in sight. She rode off, fighting the urge to turn around and see if he was watching. For the first time in a good few weeks she wore the largest of smiles. Ulrik was cute, funny and seemingly rather mysterious. He had obviously come through a gateway, but from where? Hopefully she would see him again and learn more, she was most definitely intrigued.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ulrik watched the copper-haired siren ride off; she had totally mesmerised him with those emerald eyes of hers. What land had he crossed in to? Wherever it was, maidens seemed to be unchaperoned and have control over their lives. The name Lokranor rang a bell at the back of his mind; he would ask his tutor Lukas to research it. Muirhead meant nothing to him. Once she was out of sight, he crossed back into Mallenvaar; his horse was tethered exactly where he had left it a while earlier.

  Jumping up into the saddle, he rode back to the city. The head of the Palace guard met him on the front steps.

  “Prince Ulrik, your father would like a word.”

  “I’ve never known him to restrict himself to just one,” Ulrik grunted, passing his horse to a waiting stable boy.

  “He stressed it was urgent.”

  “It usually is.” Ulrik strode through the main hall and up to his father’s quarters. He found him in his study. “What have I done this time that offends you?” Ulrik flopped down in a chair opposite his father. He had given up long ago trying to be the dutiful son; whatever he did was not good enough for his father. He would never be a warrior like his older cousin, Oskar, it was not in his nature. He was more suited to books and research.

  “I had hoped on turning twenty-one that you would start to take your responsibilities as potential heir to the throne a little more seriously.”

  “I am serious about ruling Mallenvaar. However, what you are talking about is becoming a warrior which I will not.”

  “Every heir has to lead the army,” his father scowled at him.

  “Then I guess you should make Oskar your heir, which is what you really want. He can rule the kingdom with brute force and not an ounce of intelligence instead.”

  “Do not be disrespectful to my nephew, he is worth ten of you.”

  “Then appoint him in my place. I will not be bullied into doing something I do not believe in.” Ulrik stood up angrily. He was sick of always being told he was not good enough.

  “Do not raise your voice at me, Son,” his father spat.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was still your son.” Ulrik stormed out the study and slammed the door. Sometimes he really did wonder if he was actually related to that man, they were complete opposites. Oskar should have been born his son; he had all the temperaments of a Viking warrior and had made it more than obvious he considered himself the natural heir.

  Instead of retreating to his quarters, Ulrik made his way down to the library to find his tutor, Lukas. As always, he had his nose buried in a large volume.

  “Back already, Ulrik?” the elderly man smiled.

  “So it would seem. I have a question for you. What do you know of Lokranor?”

  Lukas sat back in his chair. “I have not heard that name for a very long time. Lokranor was a neighbouring kingdom before the rift happened.”

  “Do you have a chart of its location?”

  “Perhaps.” Lukas retreated to a shelf stacked high with rolled up charts. He eventually found what he was looking for. With the chart unravelled, he directed Ulrik’s attention to a certain position. “This is Mallenvaar. Over here is Lokranor and Vasmaar. And up there is Bassengaard.”

  Ulrik’s eye caught something else. “And Muirhead.”

  “Yes. We have not seen those Realms since Valkarin tore the lands apart.”

  “Valkarin?”

  “A sorcerer long dead. Luckily for us, he was trapped in another realm.”

  “But we are not without sorcery here, from what I have heard whispered?”

  “It is true. A couple of Valkarin’s followers were separated from their master and continued to practice their dark arts in Mallenvaar. Their descendants are still with us.”

  “They cannot be a threat otherwise
I’m sure my father would have mentioned them.”

  “No, they are not of your blood so cannot challenge for the throne. They make a little noise from time to time but for now are not dangerous.”

  “Has anyone crossed recently into the other Realms?”

  “I do not think it possible. It is rumoured there are gateways which can take you there but no-one has ever found one. Why the sudden interest?”