“Well, sir, north is certainly the safest route, but it is also the longest route. The Mirror Lakes are often swollen this time of year, and it would be disastrous if our path was flooded, forcing us to find a new and longer way.”
Kaliam nodded. He hadn’t thought of that.
“And,” Acsriot continued, “as Kaliam rightly said, there is no guaranteed passage over the Prince’s Crown.” He cast an accusative eye at Aidan. “No, I suggest a middle ground—safer than the black mountains with their daunting gates, and much faster than the lakes. We should travel southwest around the mountains by the Grimwalk.”
“The Grimwalk!” scoffed Tal. “That is no middle ground. That’s the enemy’s backyard! Acsriot, why that way?”
Acsriot smiled slightly and replied, “No way is without peril. But think on this: Paragor turns his attention north to Mithegard. They are the closest settlement of Glimpses that he has not yet consumed. He will only be concerned with his ‘backyard’ if Alleble’s armies march upon it. What will the Prince, so full of grand schemes and designs, care about twelve pilgrims wandering in that barren land?”
Acsriot paused and looked at each knight at the table. “It is a brazen move, I admit,” he said. “But the Grimwalk is the fastest route. Not to mention it may present us with a rare opportunity to see something of the enemy’s plans.”
“See or be seen, I wonder?” murmured Captain Valithor. “Yet if your route provides such speed as to keep one free Glimpse from passing forever into the Gate of Despair, it is worth whatever harm may come to us. Acsriot, we will take your counsel and travel the Grimwalk.”
“But, Captain!” objected Kaliam. “The Grimwalk is utterly exposed. We will have no shielding, no cover. And what of the weather? Should the stilling begin, where will we go? And . . . what if a Tem—”
“We will not be deterred by foul weather,” said the Captain pensively. “Make certain that Kindle provides each of the twelve with his best cold gear. And Kaliam, you are a remarkable path finder. You have a responsibility for finding the safe way. I understand your feelings about the Grimwalk. I think, however, that this time, speed—not safety—is of greatest importance.”
Aidan was thoroughly puzzled, but the rest of the group nodded solemnly, as if they always understood the Captain’s decisions.
They were to leave early the next morning, two hours before sunrise, so Gwenne suggested that Aidan try to rest all he could. As they were walking together up one of the castle’s main stairways, Aidan found himself full of questions again.
“Gwenne, what’s so bad about the Grimwalk?”
“I’ve never traveled that way myself, for normally the King forbids us,” she began. “But I know that it was once green and lush—filled with every blossom, shrub, and tree. Fruit and all kinds of produce once grew there naturally, and the rest of The Realm could produce no equal. But Paragor and his fallen minions laid waste to it. And it is said that through some dark arts, he cursed the land so that it would ever be empty and barren. What little still grows is poison, and the only creatures that remain there are wretched, evil things.”
“The little creatures I saw in the mountains near the tunnels seemed harmless enough,” Aidan thought out loud.
“Moonrascals, no doubt,” she replied.
“Moonrascals?”
“They are little burrowing creatures with keen eyes and sharp claws. They live in the mountains and rocky canyons, but they only come out at night.”
“So that’s what they were!” said Aidan. “They led me to the tunnel through the mountain.”
Gwenne nodded. “One of the many tunnels in the network they have created in the rocky places of The Realm. Their claws allow them to tunnel through soil, clay, even solid rock! Yes, they can be very helpful, but they are often mischievous as well. They have been known to amuse themselves by leading travelers in circles.”
Aidan laughed.
“But not all creatures here are so good-natured. There are things in the dark kingdom of Paragory and hidden in caverns under mountains, things dreadful and dangerous: trolls, wraithlings, illgrets, and such. There are stories of ancient monsters told in whispers during the harvest season. But let us not speak of this any longer. You will find it difficult to shut your eyes with such things on your mind.”
They reached the top of the last staircase, traversed the hall, and stopped just outside of Aidan’s chamber. “Just one more thing, Gwenne.”
“Yes?”
“Kaliam mentioned something about stealing on the Grimwalk?”
“Stilling,” Gwenne corrected him. “And, Aidan, that’s the last thing I should speak of before sleep. I’d rather tell you a dozen tales of wraithlings. No, you can ask Kaliam tomor—”
“Oh, come on, Gwenne,” Aidan persisted. He was beginning to think he could handle most any fear.
“Very well, Aidan.” She frowned and hesitated to make sure Aidan knew that she did not approve. Then, she explained. “Stilling is said to be one of the worst dangers of the Grimwalk. It happens before a storm strikes. Everything becomes motionless and quiet. There is not even a breath of wind. Some say a strange scent fills the air—metallic, like recently mined copper.”
Copper? Aidan thought. Like pennies?
“Beasts sense it, I’m told,” Gwenne continued. “The stilling affects them before it would a Glimpse. Something begins to happen to any living creature that is not active or moving. They feel a sudden lethargy and become sleepy. But what is actually occurring is that they are freezing to death from the inside out. Stilling will find any exposed flesh, seep into the body, and rapidly chill one’s blood. In moments, a Glimpse will fall silent, sleep, and die. That is stilling.”
Later that evening, Aidan blew out the candle and tried to sleep, wishing he hadn’t urged Gwenne to tell him about the Grimwalk.
Aidan tossed and turned endlessly, mumbling and grumbling about everything that was on his mind. Gabby, the dragon who slept each night on the floor in Aidan’s room, became annoyed with Aidan’s fitful movements and decided to seek slumber somewhere else!
Aidan was about to give up on sleep when he heard a voice. Not plain spoken as if someone else was in the room. It was more a deep echo of something spoken long ago. It was that peaceful, dreamy voice Aidan had heard as he passed through The Door Within. This time he could understand the words. “Be anxious for nothing,” the voice urged. And immediately Aidan became drowsy and began to drift off.
18
INTO THE WILD
Before sunup the next morning, Aidan, Gwenne, and the other Alleb Knights packed and saddled up for their journey. Each knight had a unicorn to ride. And there were seven more to help spread out their load of supplies. The pack-laden steeds meandered slowly, grazing on the dew-drenched grass on the southern side of the castle. With all living beings sound asleep, it was as quiet as The Realm could get— at least it was until Captain Valithor rode out of the castle to lead them.
“Look alive, thou lumpish, beetle-headed canker-blossoms!” he bellowed, the thrill of adventure filling his already powerful voice. “We must ride hard to reach the Cold River by nightfall. There we’ll camp, for no one travels the Grimwalk at night! Then, we make haste for Mithegard to do great service for the King!”
One by one, they spurred their unicorns forward past the seven fountains, up the stone thoroughfare, out the main Gates, and into the predawn twilight.
They rode at full gallop. Even without much training on riding unicorns, Aidan kept up. But Aidan knew that was only because Captain Valithor had given Aidan the calmest, most surefooted unicorn in all of Alleble’s stables. Still, it felt pretty good, thundering across the countryside, Sil Furyn at his side.
The warmth and peace of the King of Alleble coursed through each of them as they put leagues far behind. They kept on until just after the sun had risen. They stopped then, but only for a brief respite and a light meal.
As the sun began to climb, they were off again. The unicorns se
emed tireless and raced at great speed for long spans of time. Even the stocky beast that bore Mallik had little trouble bearing his prodigious weight on pace with the other steeds.
Other than the heavy armor bouncing up and down while he rode, Aidan was having a splendid time. Of course, he knew danger lay ahead, but so far it had been like an incredible field trip with more breathtaking sights than he could count. Occasionally, friendly dragons of many colors circled above them, and huge oxenlike beasts called blackhorne herded in the tall grasses.
They traversed bridges of ancient stonework and heard the friendly brooks trickling beneath. Here and there they passed through bands of forest, some with the massive towering trees and others with thickets of thin willowy trees and carpets of fern. It was an altogether wondrous land, though unfortunately for Aidan, most of it went by in a blur.
They rode for hours, and Aidan’s mind focused on very little. But as the sun began to set, their pace slowed considerably, allowing Aidan and Gwenne to talk.
“We shall be breaking for camp soon,” Gwenne advised. “I see a branch of the Cold River up ahead.”
“I’m ready to camp too,” Aidan groaned. “But why camp at the Cold River? It doesn’t sound all that comfortable.”
“It is not comfortable at all,” she explained. “But it is the last decent place for making a camp. And there is at least some tree cover. To go past that point would mean camping on the Grimwalk at night.”
“Oh,” said Aidan. “No thanks.”
Gwenne grinned. “Just remember, you were the one who wanted to know so much about the dangers on the Grimwalk.”
“I know,” Aidan grumbled.
Finally, they reached the edge of the river. The sun slid down in the distance, an angry red mass between the distant peaks of the Prince’s Crown. Captain Valithor held up a hand and commanded, “Halt, thou reeking, fly-bitten bootlickers! Unburden your unicorns and pitch camp!”
By the time they had their tents set up and sleeping blankets unfurled, the sun was gone, leaving nothing more than a faint glow on the western horizon. After sharing a small but tasty meal, the Twelve Knights of Alleble gathered around a pleasant fire. The Captain spoke quietly with Kaliam, Matthias, and Tal. Gwenne seemed to be recounting some humorous story with Mallik and the twins. In fact, everyone seemed to have someone to talk to . . . except Aidan.
He watched them, the eleven Glimpses, their cloaks swept back and armor gleaming with firelight. They all look so heroic, Aidan thought. What am I doing here? I’m not even a Glimpse!
Aidan turned from the fire and wandered over to sit on a fallen tree. Even though he had been dubbed a knight and encouraged by everyone, he could not shake the feeling that he did not belong. And even though he had been trained well and had worked harder at swordcraft than anything he had ever done, he still was terrified by the idea of fighting someone to the death.
“Hail, Twelfth Knight!” came the deep, gravelly voice of Mallik. He strode up, hefting his great hammer, and stood before Aidan. “I could not help noticing that you left our little fireside gathering.”
“I, um, was getting a little too hot,” Aidan lied. “Being so close to the fire with all this stuff on, y’know.”
Mallik’s eyes narrowed under his coppery brows.
“I grow weary of the twins—all their talk of shaft and bow! Care you for company, or . . . do you wish to be alone?”
“No, I don’t want—I mean, I’d like your company. Would you like to sit down?”
“I don’t sit,” Mallik replied with a wink.
Aidan laughed. “Seems to me you sat fine in the saddle! Better than I did.”
“Riding a unicorn is different,” replied the Glimpse. “I need not bend very much in the saddle. It is getting on and off that truly tries my patience.”
They shared a laugh, but it became silent and awkward for a few moments afterward. Mallik twisted one of the braids of his mustache. Aidan fingered the hilt of his sword. The stars began to poke out in the darkening sky.
“You must be feeling somewhat homesick,” said Mallik. “Being so far from your home will stretch you like nothing else can.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Aidan replied. “I do miss my mom and dad. And I miss my friend Robby. But I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t belong.”
Mallik nodded. The light of the fire flickered in his eyes. “Lad, I think I know a bit of what that feels like. Swearing allegiance to King Eliam didn’t exactly make me the most popular Glimpse in the Blue Mountain Provinces.”
“What do you mean?” said Aidan, leaning forward.
“Well, nowadays, most of my people are followers of King Eliam, and we fly the banner of Alleble. But many years ago, forty years as you would reckon it, the Blue Mountain Provinces were governed by its own Glimpses. We had our own king too, King Brower—a decent Glimpse really, but stubborn and proud like the rest of us. We didn’t want Paragory or Alleble to rule over us—though we traded goods with both kingdoms. So when I came back from Alleble with eyes glinting blue, nobody wanted to have anything to do with me.”
“Blue eyes?” Aidan said. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Why, the eyes gave it away!” Mallik replied. “It was a sign that I had chosen. What are you, blind, Sir Aidan? Or have you not noticed that no matter what the base color of anyone’s eyes, they all glint blue if you’ve chosen to side with King Eliam?”
Aidan almost fell off the log, the knowledge hit him so hard. “So that’s why everyone in our team, everyone in Alleble . . . yes, now I understand.”
“Blue is a color of purity,” Mallik explained. “And ever since the Prince; nay, he is no prince! Ever since that traitor Paragor was thrown down, the eyes of every Glimpse tell the tale of whom they serve. But when we get to Mithegard, you will see their eyes shine out green, for that is the color for the undecided—for those who are their own masters. And if we meet the enemy, Aidan, the foul Glimpses who follow Paragor, their eyes will glint red—red for the innocent blood they spilled in the rebellion.”
An image of blood-red eyes flashed into Aidan’s mind, and he pulled his cloak tighter around him.
“I wonder that you had not already learned this,” Mallik said. “But it is good that you know. So you can understand how my people reacted to a ‘blue eye’ in a sea of green. They shunned me, made me feel like an outsider in my own land. I, uh . . . hope we haven’t treated you so poorly?”
“No, not at all,” Aidan replied. “The Captain’s been a little harsh, but he treats everyone that way. Even so, I know he cares. Everyone seems to care. Oh, I don’t know what my problem is.”
“Problem, eh?” Mallik grinned. “I have found that there are very few problems in life that cannot be solved with a great big hammer!”
This time Aidan did fall off the log. He lay on the ground and laughed so hard it hurt! With a hand from Mallik, he finally got up.
“Thanks, Mallik,” Aidan said, “for everything.”
“We’re together in this, lad,” he said. “Remember that.”
Weariness from the journey caught up with them all, and each retired to his or her tent for the night. Aidan was about to snuff the candle in his lantern, but the urge hit him to use the bathroom. Of course, they had no portable toilets in the wilderness of Alleble, so Aidan wandered off to find a private place. He walked away from the tents and toward the edge of the Cold River. It was just a narrow branch of the river—barely a running leap to the other side, if one was interested. Aidan had no interest in leaping across, for, somehow, the other side of the river seemed spookier. There were tall, leafless trees with gnarled branches swimming in a sea of waist-high dead grass that brushed this way and that in the chilling breeze. No, Aidan would wait until he had the other eleven Knights of Alleble with him before he crossed to that side of the Cold River!
It did look cold too. Aidan looked down from the edge into the inky black water that was far too still for a river. Aidan imagined what dark thing
s could inhabit such water—long, segmented gray worms, slimy black fish with bulging eyes, sleek lizards, or snakes! Blech! Aidan shivered and stepped back from the edge.
It was not easy undoing his breeches, but he managed. He stood there, taking care of business, when he saw a flicker of light on the other side of the river. He looked up and squinted, but it was too far away to identify. Only seconds later, another light flashed on— bright yellow, a little closer. Then, two or three more lights. Suddenly, lots of them, maybe twenty or so—in the tall grass, near the trees, some only thirty yards away! Aidan’s mind whirled in a frantic attempt to think. There were more now, perhaps a hundred, but what could—Oh no! TORCHES!
Aidan stood paralyzed. Torches could mean only one thing: The wicked Knights of Paragory had somehow found them!
Aidan thought about the others—he had to warn them! If more than a hundred Paragor Knights attacked their little band of twelve with no warning, they would all be slaughtered! That thought urged Aidan to move. He yanked up his breeches, secured them as best he could, and raced back for camp. He began screaming urgently, “The Paragor Knights! They’ve found us! Wake up! They’re here! Captain Valithor, the Paragor Knights are here!”
Aidan expected to feel an arrow stab into his back as he ran closer to camp, but somehow he was able to keep running and screaming. In a matter of seconds, Captain Valithor and the others burst forth from the camp. Nock and Bolt, arrows fit to their bowstrings, were up in the crooks of a tree. Mallik, his hammer at the ready, bounded to Aidan’s side.
“Where, Sir Aidan? Where are they?” bellowed Captain Valithor, scanning for the enemy.
“Across the river . . . there, you can see their torches!” Aidan shouted back.
The knights ran fiercely to the river’s edge and looked across, but then, something peculiar happened. The intensity of battle vanished from their faces, and to Aidan’s complete surprise, they all started laughing.
The Door Within Page 13
