by Alane Adams
“I came to help my friend, Sam,” she explained.
“Well, I hope he dies,” the boy snapped. “He ruined everything.”
“Back off, Theo,” Mavery said, raising her hands. “Before I give you a good blast of witchfire.”
“Theo.” A sharp voice came from above. Keely looked up and recognized Gael leaning on the railing. The Eifalian frowned with disapproval.
Theo pushed Keely backward before disappearing under the riggings of a boat. Keely flailed, spiraling over the edge of the water, but Mavery grabbed her arm with two hands and pulled her back to her feet.
“What was that about?” Keely asked as they walked up the dock.
“Theo’s just a spoiled royal brat. Ignore him. That’s what I always do.”
Keely wondered why Theo hated Sam so much. Something about his eyes was haunting. A grief that she recognized.
Gael awaited them at the top of the gangplank. At his side was a beautiful woman. She was tall and elegant with a regal air, and her skin was pale, almost translucent. Her oversized eyes were a sparkling blue, kind but searching as they passed over Keely. Gael bowed low, his aqua-colored robes glimmering in the light. “Welcome to Torf-Einnar, Keely. This is my wife, Rayan.”
Rayan squeezed Keely’s hand gently. “Gael has told me much about your adventures. I apologize for my nephew’s behavior. He has not been himself lately.”
“That’s all right. It’s nice to meet you.” Keely curtsied awkwardly, feeling underdressed in her jeans and the soiled denim jacket she had been wearing since they arrived in Orkney.
Rayan turned to Mavery with a warm smile and put a fond hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Nice to see you again, Mavery. We so enjoyed your last visit. I told Captain Teren that there is always a home for you here.”
Mavery flushed and curtsied.
“Come, let us proceed to the palace,” Gael said. “My father, King Einolach, awaits your audience.” His eyes lingered on Keely’s silvery white hair, but he made no comment on the unnatural color.
The two girls were ushered into an ornate carriage drawn by four prancing horses. Galatin and Rifkin mounted their steeds and rode alongside. Mavery sat close to Keely as Rayan filled them in on the scenery.
“Ter Glen is our main city. The Eifalian kingdom is a tiny one, but powerful. Many of our people live in small hamlets nearby where they can mine the goods we trade and grow our food.”
Pressing her face to the glass, Keely took in the fanciful sights. People milled about dressed in colorful robes. Some wore bright turbans wrapped around their heads. All stopped and bowed as the royal carriage passed by. The cobbled streets were spotless and lined with shops with funny names she didn’t recognize. One had a picture of shiny green beetles with a sign announcing TRILLYWIGS SOLD HERE under it, while another pronounced a NEW SHIPMENT OF PHORALITE.
They rattled over the cobblestone road up the hill to Ter Glen, a breathtaking palace. The pristine walls were whitewashed, sparkling in the sunlight reflected from the ocean. They entered through tall gates and came to a stop outside a gabled building with red roof tiles. Shutters were thrown open, and flower boxes made colorful splashes. Everything appeared built with exquisite care, down to the intricately carved doorframes.
Gael helped Rayan out, then extended his hand to Keely. She could feel callouses on his finger pads similar to her own. Gael must have been an avid archer.
“Mavery, you know the way to the guest quarters. Please show the young miss to her room,” Gael suggested with an elegant wave of his arm.
“And don’t be late for dinner,” Rayan added with a fond smile.
The witch-girl curtsied and grabbed Keely’s elbow, pulling her through an archway. They headed down an endless corridor from where Keely caught glimpses of the sea as they skipped across an open-air bridge. She wanted to stop and soak it all in, but Mavery dragged her along, turning left and right until Keely was completely lost. Finally, the path ended at a round thatched cottage.
Mavery pushed open the door and waved Keely in. “Here you go.”
It was a single room. Simple, but elegant. The walls were smooth, bare of any design. A large bed frame carved from white birch took up most of the room. Next to it, a tall dresser held an oval-shaped polished stone mounted on a stand. Keely ran her finger over the surface. It glowed a soft warm pink.
“It’s a soul crystal,” Mavery boasted, proud of her knowledge. “The Eifalians use them to read people’s auras and do healing.”
Keely caught a glimpse of herself in a small mirror on the dresser. She touched her hair, feeling the spiky tufts. The color was like liquid metal. She could easily pass as an Eifalian.
Fresh clothes were laid out on the bed: thin suede leggings, a silken undershirt, and a sweater made of the softest wool. A velvet cloak hung on the wall the color of hunter green, beautifully embroidered with gold filigree and capped with a fur-trimmed hood. Fingering a pair of tall boots, Keely was amazed at how light they were. Even the gloves fit perfectly, the soft leather stretching around her fingers.
“How come you know so much about this place?” she asked.
Mavery gave a shrug. “I’m an orphan. I got no real home of my own. Gael and Rayan, they thought, maybe . . .”
“They wanted to adopt you?”
Mavery scowled. “Stuff and nonsense. I’m a witch. They’re Eifalian. And Theo’s a brat. I tried it for a couple weeks, and you know what happened? Sam got taken by the witches. So I high-tailed it back to Skara Brae where I belong. In case Sam needs me.”
A bell rang twice.
“You should wash up and get dressed,” Mavery said, wiping away the tear that had escaped. “The king don’t like it when you’re late.” She ducked out the door before Keely could get a word out.
Chapter Sixteen
Keely washed up and changed as quickly as she could, glad to be rid of her filthy jeans and dress in something clean and warm. The new pants fit snugly. She slipped easily into the boots and pulled the sweater over the silken undershirt.
Running a stiff brush through her hair, Keely felt a flutter of nerves. How did one act around a king? Curtsy? Bow? Wrapping the cloak around her, she opened the door, then hesitated, unsure of her direction. There was a nip in the air that had her pulling the cloak tighter. The sun was already sinking low in the sky. Days were short here in the North. She took a step onto the grass, and immediately, tiny lights came on, glowing dots heading off to the right.
Keely knelt down and studied the source. A little green beetle perched on a blade of grass.
These must be trillywigs, Keely marveled, recognizing it from the advertisement in town.
She touched its back, and it shuttered closed, folding a pair of mottled green-and-blue wings over its head. She let it go, and it unfolded, glowing again.
“Wow,” she whispered. They were like fairy lights showing her the way.
She followed along the trillywig trail, retracing her steps to the main palace. A curving stairway lit up as she approached. Holding the rail, she climbed slowly, gasping when she entered a wide atrium.
The spectacular room was surrounded by majestic white stone pillars. There were no walls, no ceiling. The stars had come out. A thin crescent moon shone down. White cloth stretched between the pillars was buffeted by the breeze blowing in from the crashing ocean below. Torches flickered in the salty air, adding a magical glow to the space.
In the center of the atrium, a man sat on a high throne made of alabaster stone. Curving whale bones rose up behind him. This must have been King Einolach, Gael’s father.
As she drew closer, Keely noticed a number of Eifalians seated cross-legged on scattered rugs at the feet of the king. Their eyes were closed, and each held a soul crystal in the palm of his or her hand. Around each of them an aura swirled, a dim glow that charged the air with a tingling energy that made the hair on Keely’s arms stand up.
Gael and his wife waited alongside Mavery and her two Orkadian escorts. Beside R
ayan, Theo stood in a formal outfit of purple velveteen and a gold sash tied at his waist. His face was neutral, but his eyes glittered with an intense dislike. Keely took her place in line next to Mavery.
A gong rang out, reverberating in the stillness. The assembled group of Eifalians lifted their heads as one, and the air quieted down.
King Einolach held an ornate staff made of whalebone. At the top was an opaque crystal the size of a goose egg that glittered in the reflected white of the room. He raised the staff and stabbed it into the stone floor one time. The crystal glowed and then burst into a rainbow of soft colors that spread out over all of them. As the light hit her face, Keely was bathed in a feeling of soothing serenity.
Gael stepped in front of his father’s throne and bowed. Mavery dropped into a curtsy, elbowing Keely to follow. Keely awkwardly bent her legs and imitated her.
“Greetings, Father,” Gael began. “I bring you guests from across the sea. Ensign Galatin and his associate represent the Orkadian Guard.”
Galatin and Rifkin made appropriate bowing motions. King Einolach waved his hand at them. He was old—really old— but still majestic. His fair skin was deeply lined. White hair fell down his back in waves. He wore a luminous crown made from mother-of-pearl, swirled with shades of pink and blue and gray. His robe was woven with tiny crystals that shimmered like a living tapestry. On his left hand, a large opal stone caught the light, winking at Keely like a wise eye.
Gael continued. “And I present to you, Miss Keely of the Fifth Realm.”
The king breathed deep. “Ah yes, the world of men. Yet she looks as if she could be Eifalian. You have the hair of a healer. Only the greatest healers bear silver tips in their hair.”
Galatin stood, waving his hand at Keely. “The child drank from Mimir’s well. She says that Odin selected her and her two earth companions to help us in our fight to defeat the Volgrim witches.”
The king leaned forward to inspect her. His eyes were a cerulean blue, taking in every inch of the girl. He held out his staff. The crystal at the top shot out rays of light that washed over Keely. The tingling she had been feeling ever since her hair turned white intensified, spreading from her fingers up her arms through her whole body. Her scalp prickled, as if her thoughts were being probed. Not just her thoughts. Her motives. Her heart. Her temper.
Her secrets . . .
After a long moment, King Einolach raised his head and fixed her with his gaze.
“You have lost someone close to you.”
Keely hesitated, feeling a familiar stabbing pain. “My mother.”
“I sense a dark spot inside you, something you hide.”
Keely pasted a smile on her face. “Things happen. That’s all.”
Einolach’s fingers tightened on the knob of his staff as if he were irritated by her evasion. “These things that happened, you feel responsible. Why?”
Keely’s toes curled in her boots. She wasn’t going to bare her soul in front of all these people. Not here. Not now.
As her silence stretched out, the king gently added, “There is freedom in sharing your burden.”
The thought passed through her before she could stop it.
I killed my mother.
Einolach’s eyes widened, as if she had spoken aloud.
Thankfully, Gael stepped forward, interrupting the moment. “Father, we must discuss—”
But King Einolach raised his hand, cutting Gael off, and he drove his staff into the ground once again. “We will share a meal before we discuss official matters.”
Keely sagged with relief as attention turned away from her. A table was brought in, carried by silent workers with shaved heads, dressed in white robes. They appeared to be trainees, acolytes to the Eifalian council members.
“Theo, please show Keely to her seat,” Rayan said, putting her arms around the boy’s stiff shoulders and pushing him gently forward.
Theo stuck his arm out stiffly, and Keely hesitantly put her hand on his arm. He led her to the table, then pulled her chair back, scraping it across the marble floor. He bowed, then waved her into the seat.
She sat down, then leaped to her feet as pain shot through her. Theo’s eyes were triumphant as she bit back the squeal of pain.
Gael swooped over to her side. “Is there a problem?”
Theo paled, looking suddenly young and vulnerable.
“No.” Keely palmed the pointed shell Theo had left on her seat, hiding it in her hand. “I was just waiting for you to sit down.”
Gael nodded and moved on, ushering Theo into a seat across from her and taking his place next to the boy. Keely carefully checked her chair and sat down, squeezing in between Mavery and Rifkin. Theo glared at her from across the table, but she gave him a sweet smile and turned her attention to the delicious-smelling food that arrived. Servants bore trays of roasted lamb surrounded by boiled potatoes and the ever-present pungent black cabbage. Keely dug in, finding eating a welcome distraction from the king’s interrogation.
At the end of the meal, Mavery let out a small burp. It echoed around the table, drawing a glare from Gael and a gasp from Rayan.
“My compliments to the chef,” she said cheekily.
The king surprised everyone by letting out his own small burp and raising his glass. “To the chef,” he said. He winked at Mavery, clearly having a fondness for the orphan.
Unburdened by ceremony, the assembled group let out a collection of burps, large and small. Rifkin swallowed air and cut loose a foghorn. Galatin didn’t join in, or even smile. He just swirled his glass of wine like it was poison. Crankypants.
As the dishes were cleared, King Einolach sat back in his chair. “Tell me . . . what help do my guests seek from the Eifalian kingdom?”
Galatin stood, clearing his throat. “The Volgrim witches are waging a war we cannot win, not without powerful magic at our side. Samuel Barconian gave us an edge. Without him, our losses mount. Even if the Eifalians and the Falcory join us, Catriona appears unstoppable. This earth child says Odin sent for her and her friends to help end this war and bring Sam back.”
A hushed silence fell over the group. The seated Eifalians whispered among themselves.
Gael spoke next. “Father, Keely was gifted by Mimir with visions. She saw a path to defeating Catriona, but it is a path of great danger. One that . . .” he hesitated, as if he were choosing his words carefully, “one that requires seeking out the frost giants’ help.”
At the mention of the Vanir, King Einolach’s face went taut. Ramming his staff into the ground, he pointed a finger at Gael. “Never,” he said forcefully. “Never will I ask those barbarians for help. We have an agreement that has not been breached in centuries. We do not travel beyond the Skoll Mountains, and the Vanir do not stray into our lands. That is the way it is.”
Keely leaned forward. “Your Highness, we have no choice. Sam has been taken by the witches. If they turn him . . .”
“Yes, I have seen what he is capable of,” the king said angrily. “He nearly destroyed our world once.”
Theo abruptly shoved his chair back with a loud scrape. “I say let him die. He deserves it.”
Rayan stood smoothly and went to Theo’s side, putting her arms around his shoulders. “Hush, Theo. Come along. Its time you went to bed.”
She led the boy away, but not before he cast one last withering glance at Keely.
Keely waited until Theo was gone before she renewed her plea. “I can save Sam, maybe even stop this war, but I have to go to the Cave of Shadows and ask Ymir for the Moon Pearl.” Keely waited for a reaction. The Cave of Shadows was a thing of myths according to Rifkin. They might just laugh themselves silly.
The air vibrated with the outpouring of thoughts from the seated crowd. Keely’s pores tingled with it, feeling doubt and disbelief scrub against her skin like a scratchy blanket.
The king rested pale hands on his staff. His voice was kind, but skeptical. “So you intend to find the creator of the universe? All by yoursel
f? And just ask him to hand over the very essence of his heart?”
Keely swallowed back her nervousness and nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but Odin named me the Seeker. I can do this. Because if I don’t, and the witches turn Sam, they’ll use him to draw on the most ancient magic in this realm. They’ll destroy everything and kill everyone until they reach their ultimate goal.”
“And what is that?” the king asked.
Keely hesitated. She hadn’t yet said out loud this part of the vision she had glimpsed at Mimir’s well. The vision of Catriona and Sam ripping the sky apart and stepping through to stand in front of Pilot Rock Junior High.
Mavery elbowed her. “Just say it,” she whispered.
Encouraged, Keely turned to face the king and spoke words that sent a shockwave through the palace. “To release Orkney from the Ninth Realm.”
Chapter Seventeen
An uproar broke out over Keely’s outrageous statement. Heads turned as conversation hummed. Fear and shock filled the room. The king called for silence, rapping his staff twice before the room quieted.
“What do you mean, child?” he demanded. White fury emanated from him in waves that rolled over her like a hot wind, like it was her fault as the messenger. Even Galatin and Rifkin looked stunned.
Keely thought of Leo, riding off to face an uncertain future. And Howie, left behind in Skara Brae to be a leader, when he had no confidence in himself. She had to do as well as them, or better. She remembered something her mom had said once: Fake it till you make it. She cleared her throat, rose to her feet, and raised her voice to add strength to her words.
“I mean, whatever force keeps Orkney here in the Ninth Realm, the witches are going to try and break it. Orkney would be returned back to my world.” She looked into the king’s blue eyes. “Into Midgard. Making the two realms one again, the way it was before Catriona was put into those stones at the Ring of Brogar.”
The king slumped back in his chair. “No. It is not possible. No one in Orkney has the power to undo Odin’s magic. The force that separates us from earth will never be broken. Odin made sure of that.”
