“Lu Bei, stay out here with Motekeru. Do not record anything that happens inside. When they ask, tell the others what they should know.”
Lu Bei bit his lip and frowned, then he sighed and bowed. “Yes, master. I will do so.”
Turesobei entered his room and locked the door behind him. He sat on the bedroll and stared at the wall absentmindedly. His brain was numb; his heart overwhelmed.
A tap sounded on the door.
“Sobei!” Shoma called. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Turesobei replied. “I just need to rest and prepare for tomorrow.”
He could sense her hovering at the door.
He cast the spell of pervasive silence, placing it over the room. Then, by its silver chain, he held his kavaru up before him and stared into its amber depths, watching its kenja pulse like a heartbeat. If he could’ve taken it off, he would have. He didn’t want it anymore. He didn’t want any of this. He wanted to be a normal sixteen-year-old. Heck, a normal sixteen-year-old wizard would be fine. He didn’t want grand destinies or ancient enemies threatening to destroy his clan or kill his friends. He didn’t want all this pain, all this responsibility. And he especially didn’t want to be the Storm Dragon.
With a wave of his hand, he turned the lantern off, plunging the room into complete darkness. For a moment, he thought he heard the whisper of a laugh.
Turesobei brought his knees to his chest and rested his head on them, wrapping his arms around his legs.
He cried.
* * *
An hour before dawn, the Keeper of the Hearth woke them all. Turesobei opened his door, and Shoma rushed in and threw herself into his arms, nearly tackling him.
“Lu Bei told us everything,” she muttered. “Sobei … I …”
He stroked her hair. “It’ll all be okay, Little Blossom. I always find a way, don’t I?”
She looked into his eyes. “You’re starting to crack.”
“That just makes me more dangerous for my enemies.”
Frowning, Iniru leaned against the doorframe. “Get some food in you, and then give the Keepers hell.”
Motekeru brought in a plate heaped with food that the Keeper of the Hearth had provided.
“Let’s all eat together in Shoma’s room,” Turesobei said.
Because it might be their last meal together.
* * *
With Lu Bei at his side, Turesobei left his companions on the bottom floor of the Main Library. The Keepers were allowing them to watch the proceedings from there. The Keeper of Scrolls led him back up to the observatory where Ooloolarra beckoned him to the center of the room.
“Stand here beside me.”
The circular portion of floor they stood on sank downward, descending through the ceiling of the Main Library. On this levitating disc, they floated halfway down, fifteen levels. There, the disc paused and rotated slowly.
His eyes went wide with amazement. Gathered along the edge of each floor of the library were Keepers, dozens of them, with feathers in every imaginable hue. Aside from that, they all looked strangely the same — identical heights, builds, eyes, and even the same white tunics. He’d only seen five of the Keepers before now. Did the rest sleep all the time?
“Ninety-eight of them,” Ooloolarra whispered. “You have one vote already, from the Keeper of the Shores. You need forty-nine more, plus a volunteer who will present you to the Keeper of Destiny. That will be the hardest part for you.”
“Why is that?” he asked, but Ooloolarra didn’t get a chance to answer.
The Keeper of Scrolls, perched on the highest level, swept his wings out. “We are gathered! Our proceedings shall now begin! Let all who should be heard be easily heard.”
A flicker of kenja passed through the library.
“A voice-boosting spell,” Ooloolarra whispered. “So we won’t have to yell at one another.”
“Present your case, Great Librarian,” the Keeper of Scrolls said pompously.
“Most gracious lords … my dear eirsendan friends … thank you for hearing me,” Ooloolarra said silkily, her voice echoing throughout the library. “Long have we known each other, and few claimants have I presented to you. Four, if I recall correctly, and long has it been since the last. Today, I present to you Chonda Turesobei, and I ask you to hear his plea and grant his wish. His cause is great and just. I say this not because he is the … descendant of my Kaiaru brother and friend of old. I say it not because I have pity on him for his youth and his friends. I say it because he is a good person, with good intentions. I say it because of everything he meant to our world, because of everything, both good and bad, that he has yet to become.
“Can we deny his timeline the impact he had on ours? Because that is what we will do by not giving him a chance to return. I know he must first draw Fangthorn from the stone and his chances of doing so are slim. But if he succeeds, he will remove from below us the darkness that ever haunts this place and our hearts. My lords, I beg you, as I have never done before, let him meet with your lord.”
A ripple of murmurs spread amongst the gathered Keepers.
“Now you,” Ooloolarra whispered.
Turesobei fell to his knees and bowed. His palms were sweaty. His body trembled no matter how he tried to still it, as did his voice.
“My lords, I beg your help in returning to my world. We came here by accident while saving my world … your world of old. The Deadly Twelve, assassins from the Shadowland, used the Winter Child to unleash the yomon and eternal winter on Okoro. I had to become the Storm Dragon to stop them, but unfortunately my friends, and members of my family, got dragged through the gate with me. They are innocent, and if I cannot get them home, they will die. My betrothed, Kurine, who is from this world, is already dying. My clan, back home, they need me desperately. I am their future. Please. My cause is good and just. I only ask for a chance.”
Many of them were shaking their heads, clearly unimpressed. He had to do better. But what could he say? What else was there to do but explain why he did what he did and hope that they would understand?
“Surely you remember fighting for what you believe in?” he said. “Surely you remember being willing to give everything to save those you love? I have never done anything but give all of myself to save the ones who matter to me. I believe that is the noblest thing a person can do, and I would gladly die for any one of my companions, man or beast or book. I am not claiming to be perfect or flawless; far from it. I have made many mistakes, but my love for my family and friends is perfect in its intent. Give me a chance to see them home, back to where they belong.”
Turesobei shrugged. He wanted to say more, but what could he say? Either they would care or they would not. “I rest my case, humbly begging for your support, my lords. I will respect your decision, and I shall not fight it.”
“It is put to a vote, then!” the Keeper of Scrolls declared. “All those in favor, unfurl your wings.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
While most of the Keepers eyed one another indecisively, an emerald-feathered Keeper immediately stepped to the edge, stood on his toes, and dramatically flared out his wings revealing their golden underside. Seeing him, another loosed his wings to vote in favor of Turesobei. Then another and another. Many, however, did not budge.
The flutter of movement stopped. Turesobei counted frantically. The vote was close. Ooloolarra could scan fast. She put an arm around his shoulders. “That’s something I have never seen before,” she whispered. “You are almost there.”
“By a margin of fifty-two to forty-seven, the Gathering supports the claimant,” announced the Keeper of Scrolls. “However, for the measure to pass, one of us must volunteer to represent him to our beloved lord, our Keeper of Destiny. You all know what a great and terrible honor that is.”
The first Keeper to have voted, the one with emerald and gold feathers said, “I shall.”
A few Keepers gasped, while others stared at him dumbfounded, their beady eyes unblinking
. The rest chattered to one another in amazed tones. Turesobei choked back a sob, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. The tension in his muscles released.
“Then so shall it be,” the Keeper of Scrolls pronounced. “Present him, brother, with our blessing and love. The Gathering is now over.”
The Keeper of Scrolls stepped away from the edge and disappeared, but the rest of the Keepers continued to speak rapidly amongst themselves in their language of clicks and chirps, which the magic of this world did not interpret for Turesobei as it did with the goronku. Turesobei met the eyes of the emerald-winged Keeper and nodded in thanks. The Keeper nodded back, and then retreated into the stacks.
Lu Bei landed on Turesobei’s shoulders and hugged him. Turesobei allowed, for a moment, a smile to cross his face.
“Congratulations,” Ooloolarra said. “You did something no one else has ever done. And now you shall do something else few others have done. You will meet the Keeper of Destiny. They will retrieve you just before midnight.”
“Will I be in danger?”
“The Keeper of Destiny will not harm you. Even if he chooses not to grant you your wish to draw Fangthorn, he will grant you a favor. If it were me, I would ask to live out the rest of my days here in the library, where it is warm and safe.”
* * *
Turesobei spent an almost festive afternoon with his friends. They’d crossed one of the biggest hurdles. And he wouldn’t think, for now, about their chances of passing the ones still ahead. They ate and talked of the most frivolous things they could think of. No one mentioned Kurine’s deteriorating condition or the possibility that Turesobei could fail to draw the sword. Instead, they took a couple of hours to browse the library, looking in wonder at the beautifully illuminated texts all written in strange languages that meant nothing to them.
A half-hour before midnight, the Keeper of the Hearth came for Turesobei. They walked silently to the Main Library, Lu Bei fluttering behind. From there, the Keeper led them through one of the connecting passages to the tall, narrow tower.
The emerald-and-gold Keeper was waiting for them. Some sort of unspoken message passed between the two Keepers. Then the Keeper of the Hearth nodded slowly and deeply, almost bowing, to the emerald one and left. Turesobei’s representative stood for a long moment before shoving the door open and leading him inside.
“What’s your name?” Turesobei asked. His voice shook nervously, and he realized he was terrified, which was strange considering all the demons and monsters he’d faced. But normal Keepers were intimidating enough, and they all held their lord, the Keeper of Destiny, in awe.
“I am the Keeper of the Forested Isles,” he said in almost longing voice.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me, being the first to vote, and so dramatically. I think without you the vote would not have passed.”
“You are welcome,” the Keeper replied.
“What happened to your islands? I mean, why aren’t you with them still?”
The Keeper let loose a sigh. “The isles now lie beneath the ocean.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
The Keeper of the Forested Isles locked his beady eyes on him. “Time undoes everything, good and bad. It is the way of life.”
The Keeper placed a hand on a second door and chanted. A few moments later, it swung open. The Keeper spoke a word, and a few anemic lanterns on the walls sputtered to life. The building wasn’t what Turesobei had expected. It was full of cobwebs and dust and entirely empty. High, high above, he spotted a trapdoor in the ceiling.
The Keeper spread his wings. “I shall have to carry you.”
“I can levitate up there, if you like.”
The Keeper of the Forested Isles nodded. “That would be more dignified for both of us, I should think.”
Turesobei noticed the Keeper’s hands were trembling. “Are you nervous to see your lord, too?”
Was that a smile? It was hard to judge their expressions. “I have never met the Keeper of Destiny before.”
“Never?” Lu Bei asked. “Wow. That seems strange.”
“More than half of us have not. The Keeper of Destiny was ancient even when I was young. He sleeps and dreams almost all the time. When last he walked among us, it was to summon us here, but by the time I arrived, he was already in hibernation. So it is an extreme honor for me to finally meet him.”
“Ooloolarra made it sound like getting a representative would be difficult. If it’s such an honor to meet him, why wouldn’t all of you want to volunteer?”
The Keeper made no reply. Turesobei exchanged a look with Lu Bei; the fetch shrugged. Turesobei positioned himself directly under the trapdoor and chanted the spell of levitation. He rose slowly up into the air, Lu Bei circling around him, and the Keeper of the Forested Isles met him when he reached the top. The Keeper grabbed onto a handhold and chanted again to unlock the door.
“After me,” said the Keeper of the Forested Isles.
The Keeper climbed in through the trapdoor, and Turesobei followed him up. A single room, much like Ooloolarra’s, took up the top of the tower. But this dome was crystal clear, and it magnified one’s sight so that everything beyond looked closer. Avida, hanging full above them, was enormous — easily four times its normal size. Gray blemishes and pockmarks scarred the moon’s surface that, until now, Turesobei had believed to be purely white and smooth. Only a few stars could peek through Avida’s dominating, magnified light.
“Wowza!” Lu Bei said, and Turesobei nodded.
The Keeper of the Forested Isles sunk down onto one knee and placed his hands on the floor. He tucked his head down and spoke in a strangely lyrical alien language of clicks and whistles and grunts.
The chamber was bare, except for a figure standing at the other end of the room. Stooped and frail, though clearly he had once been a head taller than all the others, the Keeper of Destiny stood, statue-like, staring up through the dome. Gossamer webs draped from his hoary, emaciated frame. His wings hung limp and pale, with almost translucent feathers that looked as if they might fall off. His hands and limbs were gnarled and scarred, as if he had fought mighty beasts in the distant past. But his eyes, focused on the sky above — unblinking, clear, and sharp — sparkled under Avida’s light.
Turesobei dropped to his knees and bowed his head. Lu Bei mirrored him this time. Now that he’d taken in the sight of the Keeper of Destiny, something bothered Turesobei. Something here was wrong.
The moon! Shaking his head in confusion, he gazed at Avida.
“You are wondering,” said a deep, deep voice, “why Avida is full above when it should be crescent now and lying, at this time of night, on the horizon.”
The eyes of the Keeper of Destiny lowered onto Turesobei.
“I just realized it, your majesty,” Turesobei replied, bowing low.
“Do you long to return home?” the Keeper of Destiny asked.
“I do, your majesty.”
“So do I.”
With a groan and the cracking of stiff joints, the Keeper of Destiny rolled his head, relaxed his shoulders, and swept the cobwebs from his chest and arms. Looking as if he might tumble forward, he took creaking steps on his frail legs. He crossed the room and stopped in front of the Keeper of the Forested Isles, who kept his head tucked down and said nothing. The Keeper of Destiny grabbed the hands of the Keeper of the Forested Isles and brought him up to his feet.
“Rise, my brave child, and face me.”
The Keeper of the Forested Isles did so. “I am yours, Lord Keeper.”
“It has been a long, long time since any of you visited me …”
“We have had no reason to disturb you, my lord.”
“You were all afraid.”
Trembling, the emerald-winged Keeper nodded. “Yes.”
“It is difficult to be alone. And soon, all too soon, you will understand that. I am sorry.”
“It is the highest honor to serve you, my lord.”
“An honor that I am s
orry I must bestow. Are you ready?”
“One moment.” The Keeper of the Forested Isles turned to Turesobei. “Thank you, Chonda Turesobei, for reminding this ancient soul what it was like to live and love, even at the peril of one’s own life. I had forgotten. And now, I wish you success on your noble efforts, and honor you with this: my second secret name, the one that humans can speak, is Inatiasharra. I am, in your world and time, still on the islands. They lie between Okoro and Tengba Ren, but a little south. If you should ever have the chance …”
“I don’t understand,” Turesobei said.
The Keeper of the Forested Isles nodded. “I am ready now, my lord.”
“Fix your gaze on our beloved homeland.”
The Keeper of the Forested Isles turned … and gazed up at Avida. Then the Keeper of Destiny, like lightning, struck and bit deeply into Inatiasharra’s neck, his sharp beak tearing through the throat.
Turesobei jumped to his feet and screamed, “No!”
Chapter Fifty
There was a spray of blood, but none of it ever touched the ground. Inatiasharra’s body, tunic and wings and all, burst into a cloud of white mist. The Keeper of Destiny inhaled deeply, and the cloud poured into him. As Turesobei watched helplessly, the Keeper of Destiny was rejuvenated. Muscle returned to his frail limbs. His feathers turned from translucent white to deep gold and shining silver. His wings stretched out. His back straightened. His skin went from gray to light bronze. He bent his head back and cawed deeply, his voice reverberating through the dome.
Then he turned.
Turesobei backed up a step, and Lu Bei flew in front of him, with his hands spread out, sparks falling from his palms.
“Watch out, master!”
“I am not going to hurt either of you,” the Keeper lord replied with a hint of mirth in his voice.
“Why — why did you do that?” Turesobei asked.
“Because there is a price to pay for all magic, that which grants immortality most of all. I am not Kaiaru like you.”
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 92
