A Kingdom Rises

by J. D. Rinehart

  “It’s no good,” she said, staring disgustedly at the gold fire encircling her hands. “I’m not strong enough.”

  “You are wrong.” Mirith walked up. “Look at you, Elodie. You’re ready for battle.”

  Elodie glanced down at her Trident uniform.

  This is how I think of myself now. As a warrior. Is that why these clothes appeared when I arrived here? Did I conjure them up?

  Perhaps there were other things she could conjure.

  She lowered her left hand, but kept her right hand raised. She imagined it full of sand instead of fire. Her fingers continued to glow, but now when she flexed them, they felt hot and dry. From somewhere far away a wind was blowing.

  Her stomach jolted, as if something inside her had locked into place. The fire spat sparks from her hand, only now each spark was a grain of golden sand. The heat became a delicious throbbing that ran from her fingers all the way up her arm to her shoulder.

  There was something in her hand.

  It was a sword.

  The sword was made of light. It felt as weightless as the wind and as heavy as the world. As she raised the sword, it pulsed. It hummed. So did she.

  “Sand and fire!” she shouted.

  She brought the sword of light down on the wyvern’s collar. The collar shattered, not breaking into pieces but dissolving into dust.

  With a guttural shriek, the wyvern spread its glassy green wings and hurled itself into the air. The chain fell loose onto the shifting surface of the stairs. Still shrieking, the serpent turned loop after loop, clearly overjoyed to be rid of its shackles.

  “One prisoner freed!” cried Elodie. “Now for the rest!”

  She ran up the final few steps to the castle entrance. The heavy shadows from which Brutan’s guardian had emerged had condensed into a smoky portcullis. The thick bars of this immense gate wriggled like a nest of snakes. The way was blocked.

  Not to me!

  Elodie raised her sword and brought it down.

  CHAPTER 9

  Are we nearly there?” said Jessamyn.

  Gulph squeezed the little girl’s hand. “Not much farther now.”

  He paused, looking up the granite corridor that would lead them to Idilliam. Then he looked back, down the crystal tunnel they’d just climbed. It was like standing at the junction between two worlds.

  By the light of a thousand burning torches, he saw a straggling line of refugees dwindling far back into the darkness.

  All the people of Celestis, he thought in wonder. And they’re following me.

  He thought back to how he’d stood before them after defeating the bakaliss, and how quickly he’d gained their trust. With Lady Redina dead, the people of the lost underground realm had emerged from a kind of daze. Hungry for news of the world above, they’d listened in fascination as Gulph had told them about what was happening in Toronia.

  “I’m going back,” he’d concluded. “There’s still a lot of work to be done. Will you help me?”

  Quiet though the crowd had been as he’d told his tale, their gratitude to Gulph for killing the bakaliss had converted into willing support for his cause.

  “Yes!” they’d roared as one.

  Things had moved quickly after that. Ossilius and Marcus—the two former soldiers—had organized groups of people to gather supplies for the journey. Gulph had stowed the crown of Toronia back into his pack, which Pip had loaded up with food and water.

  “Remember when we were just a couple of wandering acrobats, Pip?” Gulph had said. “A lot’s changed since then.”

  “You haven’t changed, Gulph.” She’d given him a quick kiss on his cheek, then shrunk back blushing.

  “I suppose you haven’t either. You’ll probably sneak half your stuff into my pack when I’m not looking, and still complain that yours is too heavy.”

  “When did I ever do that?” Pip had innocently blinked her big brown eyes.

  “Just about every day we were on the road.”

  She’d shouldered her pack with a grin. “Looks like we’re going on the road again.”

  Oh, Pip, Gulph thought now, glancing at his friend as she walked through the tunnels at his side. Whatever happens on this journey, I’m glad you’re with me.

  To begin with, the tunnel walls had been pure crystal—a corridor of rich blue sapphire, a stretch of yellow topaz, around the next corner a seam of dazzling emerald. Now they made their way through the tunnels of cold gray granite that lay directly beneath Idilliam.

  “These tunnels were scary,” remembered Jessamyn, clinging on to Gulph’s hand. “That bad man Slater got squished.”

  “Yes, he did,” Gulph said. “But we didn’t, did we?”

  They made good progress, stopping occasionally for rest breaks but for the most part forging ahead. Gulph was keen to get to the surface as soon as possible. It seemed that the people of Celestis were too.

  Kalia joined him at the head of the column. She’d been moving among the Celestians, taking care of minor injuries as people cracked their heads against the low ceilings or scraped their arms on the jagged walls.

  “Is everything all right back there?” Gulph asked.

  “They are hungry to see the light,” his mother said. “As am I. It’s so long since I saw Idilliam. Tell me about your time there, Gulph. Ossilius tells me the first time he saw you, you were performing for your father and Queen Magritt.”

  So Gulph handed Jessamyn to Pip’s care and told Kalia everything, beginning with the capture of the Tangletree Players as prisoners of war, and his imprisonment with Prince Nynus, his half brother, in the Vault of Heaven.

  “Nynus was always such a playful child,” Kalia said as Gulph told her about the plot the prince and his mother, Queen Magritt, concocted to kill Brutan. “It’s sad that he turned out to be so cruel.”

  Gulph thought back to the pale, strange boy he’d first met in the Black Cell. He remembered how much he’d liked him. “Magritt was the cruel one, really. Poor Nynus was just . . . broken.”

  He stopped, suddenly aghast.

  “What is it?” said Kalia.

  “The bridge! How could I have forgotten?”

  “What about the bridge?”

  “Nynus had it torn down. Even if we get to Idilliam, we’ll be stuck there. There’s no way across the chasm.” He wanted to shake himself. “We’ll have swapped one prison for another!”

  “Is everything all right, Gulph?” said Ossilius, catching up to them. “Why have you stopped?”

  But when Gulph explained that there was no way for them to reach the rest of Toronia, Kalia and Ossilius smiled.

  “I don’t know what’s so funny,” Gulph protested. “I can’t just stay stuck in Idilliam. What about Elodie and Tarlan? I’ve got to find them. How am I going to—”

  “Hush,” said Kalia, patting his arm.

  “Listen to me, Gulph,” said Ossilius. “Destiny has brought you this far, has it not?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “And when destiny has deserted you?”

  “I . . . I suppose I’ve carried on anyway.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Listen to Ossilius,” said Kalia. “And have faith, my son. Your determination has carried you when all else has fallen aside. It will carry you further yet.”

  “And destiny?”

  Kalia’s smile widened. “Oh, I am sure there is still a little more of that waiting around the corner.”

  • • •

  At last they reached the storeroom inside the postern gate—the dark chamber from which Gulph and his companions had made their first descent into the underground labyrinth. Except now it was anything but dark.

  “The door’s still open,” said Gulph, stepping from the tunnel into the storeroom and shielding his eyes from the daylight pouring in. “Last time I was here, I couldn’t close it.” He shook his head in frustration. “That’s how Brutan’s soldiers found their way to Celestis.”

  “It couldn’t be helped, Gulph,” s
aid Ossilius. “Come.”

  After so long underground, the daylight beyond the doorway was dazzling. Gulph blundered into its glare, his eyes streaming. Behind him, many of the Celestians cried out in shock, and even pain. He could only imagine how bright it must seem to these people, who’d spent their whole lives underground.

  Gradually his vision cleared. The area immediately around the postern gate was a wasteland, littered with rubble and charred bodies. Ruined buildings slumped, their shattered walls black with soot. Beyond them rose the city’s outer wall. Once straight and proud, it was now as jagged as a jaw full of broken teeth. Clouds of ash hung low in the sky, sliced by beams of smoky sunlight.

  And yet it seemed peaceful.

  “They’re gone,” said Gulph in dawning wonder. “Brutan’s army. The undead. All gone.”

  Yet with his relief came something else: a nagging sense of impatience.

  We have to move faster!

  In the open space that lay between the city gate and the end of the broken bridge, Gulph called a halt. They’d brought thousands of people up from Celestis, people who had set out with bravery and resolve, but who were now looking increasingly uncertain. In the bright sun, their skin was pale and unhealthy, their eyes were squinted half-shut, and most looked more than tired after the long climb. They looked ready to drop.

  Gulph stepped up onto a low wall. “There’s enough food for everyone, and the injured will be looked after,” he announced. There were no cheers, but an audible sigh of relief washed through the crowd. “I wish I could take you farther. There’s a forest on the other side of the chasm. Plenty to eat, plenty of places to shelter, but . . .”

  He indicated the broken bridge. The gap in the middle said everything that needed to be said. It also sent a spike of frustration through him that there was no way across.

  He called Pip over. “We’ve brought plenty of food up with us,” he said. “Could you get some tables set up in that ruined guardhouse? The Tangletree Players are good at entertaining a crowd. Let’s see if they can feed one.”

  Pip nodded. “I’ll get Hetty and Jessamyn to help.”

  “Good idea.” As Pip trotted away, Gulph turned to the Celestians.

  “I can see that some of you have bruises and scrapes from our journey. Show them to my mother—she’ll help you.”

  Kalia was already setting up the small cauldron she’d been carrying. Within moments, she was sprinkling herbs into a sweet-smelling potion. As the steam began to rise, a line of Celestians formed before her. The others were heading for the broken-down guardhouse, where Pip and Hetty were directing the rest of Gulph’s friends in the task of laying out food on rows of trestle tables.

  “What will you do now, Gulph?” asked Captain Ossilius.

  “Well,” Gulph replied, “once everybody’s fed, I suppose we need to think about where we’re all going to sleep tonight.”

  “No. I asked what will you do?”

  Gulph sighed. “I don’t know. I just know I’ve got to find Tarlan and Elodie . . . . I have to find a way over the chasm. But I can’t see how.”

  Together they walked to the chasm’s edge. The deck of the bridge extended only a short distance out into empty space before ending in a ragged stump. Far beyond it, the opposite deck stretched all the way to the forest on the other side.

  Between the two halves yawned a gap as wide as the Isurian River.

  “It can be rebuilt,” said Ossilius. “There are plenty of timbers lying around. And plenty of people willing to help you, Gulph. It would take time, but—”

  “But that’s just it. I don’t have time. The other two need me now.”

  “How do you know that, Gulph?”

  “I just know.”

  Gulph could feel the impatience swirling through him, a hot, dry sensation that reminded him of the way he felt when he used his powers.

  Invisibility won’t help me here. Mind reading’s no use. What I need is to be able to fly!

  “What is that?”

  The voice belonged to his mother. She’d arrived so silently that Gulph hadn’t even heard her approach.

  “How are the injured people doing?” he asked.

  “They are doing well. Hetty is tending to my cauldron.” She seized Gulph’s hand. “But never mind that. Look, there’s something you need to see.”

  “What is it?”

  Kalia raised his hand. She extended his finger, sighting along it and making it point at the sky.

  “There,” she said.

  For a long time Gulph saw nothing. Then, gradually, a tiny dot appeared against the thin blue haze.

  How good must your eyes be, Mother?

  “Yes, I see it! But what is it?”

  Kalia said nothing, merely waited as the dot became a speck, and the speck became a growing blur of motion.

  “Is it a bird?” said Gulph. “If it is, it’s a big one.”

  “It’s a thorrod!” said Ossilius in wonder.

  The blur was now a golden dart with beating wings. Its shadow sped across the pointing finger of the bridge’s far end, vanished momentarily as the giant bird crossed the gap, then reappeared on their side.

  Gulph stared in wonder at this titan of the sky, his breath taken by its beauty, its majesty.

  I’ve seen you before! he realized with a start.

  “On the battlefield!” he cried. “It was there. It flew in and saved me. Tarlan was riding it!”

  Beside him, he heard Kalia’s breath catch in her throat.

  The gigantic bird touched down just a few strides in front of him. This time, the thorrod’s back was bare.

  Ignoring Ossilius and Kalia, the thorrod hopped up to Gulph and lowered its head. Its beak shone as bright as the Toronian crown; its gold feathers ruffled in the wind blowing up from the chasm. Its black eyes were deep, like pools of night.

  It gave a single cry—a harsh, rasping croak—then sank farther toward the ground, offering its back to Gulph.

  “If it could talk, it would be telling you to climb on,” Ossilius said.

  Kalia’s grip tightened on Gulph’s hand. “If this bird belongs to Tarlan, why is he not riding it now?”

  Gulph couldn’t tear his eyes away from the thorrod’s intense, liquid gaze.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t think this bird is the sort of creature that ‘belongs’ to anyone.”

  He ran his fingers through the ruff of coarse feathers that sprouted between the thorrod’s wings. Pressing his hand against its neck, he felt the sure, steady throb of its pulse.

  “You could carry me away right now, couldn’t you?” he whispered. The thorrod looked back at him, making no sound.

  “A thorrod!” came an excited cry from behind him. It was Pip, running over, her face flushed. “I never thought I’d see one up close! It’s so gorgeous!” Hardly pausing for breath, she went on, “So are you leaving us, Gulph?”

  He stared at her. How could he leave Pip, or Ossilius, or his mother? Or any of those who’d pledged their support to him? How could he fly away and leave them in this burned-out shell of a city?

  And yet, somewhere on the other side of the chasm, were Elodie and Tarlan. Destiny was waiting.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” he said truthfully.

  Pip rolled her eyes. “This is the thorrod your brother was riding on, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “But nothing. He needs you. It’s obvious.”

  “Pip is right,” said Ossilius. “Besides, whatever battle is to come—perhaps the final battle for Toronia—I believe it must surely happen here. Remember the throne room you told us of? This is the place, Gulph. It doesn’t matter if you call it Idilliam or Celestis—this is the heart of Toronia. You will return to us here. Because here is where it all began . . . and where everything will end.”

  “Destiny has brought you here,” said Kalia. “Now you must bring your brother and sister here too.”

  Ossilius jerked his head toward the peopl
e of Celestis. “They may look like travel-worn wanderers, but by the time you return”—he gave Gulph a winning smile that made him look thirty years younger—“I will have made an army of them!”

  Overwhelmed by his friend’s loyalty, Gulph hugged him.

  “You’ve done so much for me, Ossilius. Can you believe all we’ve gone through since that day you dragged me off to the Vault of Heaven?”

  “I knew then that you were special, Gulph.”

  Gulph turned his attention to his oldest friend. “As for you, Pip, you seem pretty keen to get rid of me.”

  “Can’t wait to see the back of you.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. Unable to hold herself back anymore, she threw her arms round him. “Be safe,” she said, her voice choked.

  “I’ll try.” He smiled. Ending the embrace, he turned to Kalia. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you again. We’ve only just . . .”

  “I know,” said Kalia, seizing his hand, “but Tarlan’s thorrod must be here for a reason. You don’t want to leave me, and I don’t want to leave you. The solution is simple.”

  “It is?”

  “Of course. I’m coming with you!”

  His heart overflowing, Gulph helped his mother onto the thorrod’s back, then climbed up himself. It felt strange to be sitting astride the giant bird, yet curiously like coming home.

  Tarlan sits here, he marveled, stroking the thorrod’s sleek golden feathers. My brother.

  “Come back safe!” shouted Pip as the thorrod spread its enormous wings and lifted slowly into the air.

  “We’ll be waiting!” called Ossilius.

  They raised their hands in salute. Gulph waved back; Kalia, seated behind him with one arm around his waist, waved too. The thorrod wheeled, and the air rushed past them, and before Gulph knew it, they were flying over the chasm, over the forest, out into the wider world.

  Where are you taking us? he thought, wishing he could speak the thorrod’s language.

  But of course he knew the answer.

  You’re taking us to Tarlan!

  CHAPTER 10

  Tarlan followed Captain Leom down the steep mountain slope. To his relief, the cold wind that had assailed them when they’d emerged from the Fortress of the Flown had quickly died away.