Max smiled. “Making a new character for a game?” he asked. “Let me think. I’d make him seem dark, but maybe his nature changes as he spends time around the heroine. Maybe because she treats him differently than everyone else, he becomes a better elf.”
The implications Max were making were too obvious for her to miss. But she couldn’t decide how she felt about them. Or how much Max had thought about her. It was there, but unlike with Al, Max’s hints weren’t frustrating or demeaning.
“I’d call him Yilith,” Max said.
Clare nodded and trained her eyes ahead on the dimming sun. “I like it. Yilith it is.”
The streetlights were coming on. She suddenly realized she could tell Max. Something within told her he had to know. He was somehow vital to saving that world and theirs.
“Max,” her voice was even and low. “I have to tell you something.”
She waited until they were in her car driving down an unnecessary long way to Max’s neighborhood. He must have noticed, but he didn’t say anything. They drove through some back roads with lots of trees and it began to rain. Clare wondered if the weather was taking action because she was not.
“Well?” Max asked. “I know for a fact you’ve missed the turn back into town twice now.”
She swallowed. “You know that night I went missing in the park?” He nodded quietly. Trying not to close her eyes against her sudden embarrassment, she repeated what she had said to Lance and Alice in a fast, tongue-tied tirade of words. Somehow, it was harder to tell this to Max.
He stared hard out the rain-splattered windshield, not looking at her. “Was that in the game?” he asked.
“Holy Ra!” Clare shouted. “No, and I’m not crazy. Maxey, I thought out of all of them, you’d understand.”
“You told the others?” He still didn’t look at her.
“Alice and Lance.”
“Lance,” he repeated. “What did they say?”
“I had to convince them I’d show them the place.”
A huge bump jostled Clare nearly out of her seat and a bang made Max scream and cover his ears. They had run over something and the tire had blown out. Clare glared at it in her side mirror.
“I’m not crazy!” Raging, she threw open her door and got out, popping the trunk to access the spare.
“It’s pouring!” Max called. “Don’t go out in the rain. Just call someone.”
She was behind the car, digging out the jack and wrench. “I am not going to call someone. I can handle this myself. I know how to change a tire.”
“I’m just concerned,” he said over the pounding rain. He pulled his black hood up over his head. She was on the ground, angrily releasing the hubcaps to change the tire, the spare next to her. He got out and quietly walked to where she was.
“Please don’t be angry at me.” He crouched next to her and stopped her hand with his. “I believe you. Can you tell me about it?”
“You take off the caps one at a time and then the tire comes off, it’s not hard!” Looking up, she saw his eyeliner was drizzling down his face in odd black tear-tracks. Something about that softened her heart a little. She realized he wasn’t talking about the tire.
“Don’t humor me. I’d rather you be honest.” She took the last bolt off and released the tire down with a muddy splash.
“But I don’t want you to be crazy. I want to know. If you’ll tell me.”
She was sadder than she thought she’d be at his reaction. Somehow, she’d imagined that everyone would just believe her. But things were always so hard it seemed.
She dropped the tools into a puddle by her feet. “Do you really want to know?”
A kind smile relieved Max’s face of its worry lines. “I’m willing to find out.” He kneeled down and offered her his hand. “Let me help you with the tire. It looks heavy.”
Chapter 11
Fantasy Warriors
Galis let go of the monster’s head and it fell forward with a hard grunt. The beast was a bonkor. It was much like a bear, only bigger and with an ankole’s horns and teeth that best resembled a python’s. A large, clawed paw had slashed a three-trailed path across his chest, but that was the only wound.
“You barbarians are beyond my comprehension!” the oracle screamed from Galis’ belt. “I said to not enter that cave and you said there was treasure in them. I don’t care! Safety over shiny!”
“Is there no way to shut him up?” Folkvar asked as the star came out from her hiding place and remounted the norcan. He slung his bow around his shoulders and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.
“He is right,” the star breathed. “That was reckless. But it is your way.” She spoke to Galis, “If you wish to be a warrior for the earthling, then you must prove yourself worthy of body and mind.”
Galis reached down and, smiling, took up the golden talisman the bonkor had in its grip.
“My people need things to sell this winter. The corruption has destroyed so much of our hunting grounds.”
After the earthling Clare, had vanished, the tiny troupe had been at a loss for what to do. They had made a dangerous journey with her to find the oracle, but it refused to speak to any of them of matters not of their world.
“It is not in your power to act,” he explained once again as the troupe sat around a campfire when the sun had gone down. “You are of this world. The earthling has powers you do not. Find her and I will tell her all she needs to know.”
“What power does an earthling have?” Folkvar asked.
The oracle smiled wickedly. “We are but the creations of earthlings. Perhaps Clare is even only alive in the imagination of someone else. There are countless worlds like this one and like Clare’s world. Each was created by someone or something not of that world.”
Galis arched his eyebrow and shrugged. He shoved more meat into his mouth, dropping bits onto the oracle’s sneering face.
“Chew with your mouth closed, barbarian!” he snapped from his hanging position.
For days, they wandered around the prairies and the mountains looking for any sign of Clare.
At last, Galis stopped them and said, “Perhaps we should go to Calimorden and inquire to the queen if Clare is there. She was so intent on returning.”
Folkvar shifted his massive hooves anxiously. “I will not enter that kingdom. My people are more savage than yours, Galis. I will not be welcome in that place, just as you will not.”
“And we cannot be too wary of places where the corruption may touch,” the star said. “We do not know if the queen’s heart is alive and pure. She may be a servant of the great Umbra and we would never know.”
For some time, they were unsure what to do next. With the grating silence and the company trying its nerves, the oracle finally spoke.
“If you must, then go east,” he said. “There you will meet the prince and the earthling’s elf. But I see only destruction if you start this journey alone. Where the Mirror lies, the truth of our world lies. Only an earthling can use it properly. I shudder to think what will happen if one of you goes there.”
“I know this Mirror,” the star said. “We in the Astral Plane have seen it. It is very far and guarded by invisible enemies. Men have screamed in terror or dashed away or killed themselves as they neared it. I have seen them swing their swords at unseen foes and lose battles to ghosts.”
Galis raised his head. “I am not afraid of invisible enemies. We’ll go to the east and find the Mirror.”
“Stupid barbarian,” the oracle sighed. He would have shaken his head had it not been dangling from Galis’ belt. “Head full of myths and stories. You don’t understand the truth of it.”
Stretching out before them was a vast river covered in mist. The water in it was moving at the pace of funeral marchers and was the color of sable. No wave broke the surface and no sound issued from it. It appeared to flow endlessly to the left and right. They could vaguely see the banks on the other side through the fog.
Folkvar lifted
a branch and touched it to the water’s surface. When the green leaves brushed the black waters, they immediately lost their color, turned to a bleak grey, and shriveled up. The decay began to travel up the branch toward the norcan’s hand. Folkvar quickly dropped the branch into the water. The splash was strange. It sounded as though it were coming from the long end of a stone tunnel.
“Corrupted water,” the oracle said in a way that made him sound like a fascinated teacher. “Nasty stuff.”
“Can we cross?” the star asked.
“Sure, swim it,” the oracle said.
When Galis took one step close, he screamed out.
“No, foolish bonehead! I didn’t mean it.”
“I’m only looking.” Galis frowned as he looked into the river. He had no reflection in it. The sun was the only thing reflected in the black water. Galis’ brow furrowed more as he saw something was not right with the sun. He whirled around in terror and pointed. “Look at the sun!” he cried.
The others turned and the star cried out, covering her mouth in shock with both of her delicate hands. The sun was larger than it had been the day before. The edges of it were a darkening orange that seemed to grow brighter as they gaped up at its yellow face. But the most terrifying was a large, black crack. The crack started in the upper right hand side, wide and dark, then narrowed and splintered into smaller fissures about halfway down toward the center.
“Corrupted,” the star said at last. “Like my Astral home!” She put her face in her hands and fell to her knees, weeping.
“A boat!” the oracle said between her sobs. “Come to take you to your doom, I think.”
Gliding across the waveless waters was a grey, decaying boat with a high prow like a small Viking boat. In it was one bipedal creature with sickly blue skin and webbed hands. His eyes were white and blind.
“One more I think is all,” he said in an old, whispery voice.
“One more what?” Galis asked as the boat hit the shore.
“One more time is all it can handle, then down it goes I think. Nothing to it.” He had pushed the boat with a long wooden pole that seemed to be touching the bottom as he waited for them to board.
“Can you take us?” Folkvar asked.
“Oh yes, to be sure. It is what I do. One more time I think is all.”
They climbed in carefully and were soon out in the midst of the black water. The corruption was slowly snaking its way up the wooden pole the water-man was using to push them along. He didn’t seem to notice. There was no sound out on the water.
“Where are the others?” Galis asked.
“Gone under is all,” the water-man said, grunting while he pushed. He shivered as the finny spine on his back turned pale then grey before their eyes. “I’ll see them soon. We always stick together, us river folk.”
“You should leave the boat and come with us,” Folkvar said. “I do not like to see a creature give up so easily. It is not an honorable way to die.”
The water-man gave a kind of bubbly laugh. “Not giving up, just going to see them is all.”
The star looked at the grey color of the boat and gathered up her skirts into her hands.
“Will the water harm you?” she asked.
“Probably so. Just take away my essence I think is all.”
“Is that what this decay does?” Folkvar asked.
The water-man’s face fell as they landed on the next shore. “No. Makes you heartless, gone, and empty. Dead but walking, decaying, nothing, and all of the above is all.”
After they got out, he waved to them. “It happens to us all one day or another.”
With that, he slapped his hands together, took a deep breath, and dove gracefully into the black water. Hardly a ripple was troubled by his entry and no sound splashed up. The star stared in horror at the spot where the water-man had vanished. She reached out as if to pull him back, but Folkvar took her hand and drew her closer to him.
“To die this way,” the norcan sighed. “There is no glory in it.”
“And I wonder about glory in battle,” the star countered as he helped her up onto his back. “Is it a good fight if we cannot know what victory will bring?”
Galis said, “I am a warrior and would rather die fighting.”
The star met his eyes. “It is your way.”
The other side of the river was like a new world. Snow wind whipped and lashed at them the moment they took five steps inland. The trees were covered in such thick layers of ice that they appeared to be made of glass. Huge stalactites of ice hung from the bows of the trees in blue and white spears. Bushes so covered in ice and snow had turned to massive, hard boulders. Inside the blizzard was the call and howl of wolves. Their fur was thick and pure white. Even their claws and noses were white. Their eyes were crystal blue and angled. But they were also so tall that, were you perhaps the size of an average female, you could mount one and ride it.
Also ducking and hiding, playing a fierce game of chase, were a snow fox with his two bushy tails, and a winter hare. In the branches, perched with strong silver talons, were snow hawks and winter crows with black eyes. Hanging upside down from a tree, shielding her young, was a large, white freeze-bat. She opened her red eyes as the small group passed, but did not dare move for fear of her young being exposed to the cold wind.
Galis shivered first. His barbarian garb was not meant for such weather. Folkvar braced himself against the wind, but wished he had a cloak or blanket for the shivering star.
“Forgot about this place,” the oracle said. “Oops.”
They were only about half a mile through the woods when Galis stopped and Folkvar lifted his hand for silence. His norcan nose twitched as he sniffed the air. He flicked his hand down and they all crouched low.
“One is human,” Folkvar said. “I do not know the other.”
Galis raised his head just above the snow mound they were behind and looked. Perfectly visible in the white world was an under elf in black robes. This could have been the elf Clare had mentioned, but he could not be sure. No one on the Surface Plane got along well with Nether elves.
Folkvar was about to ask Galis what he had seen when a voice cried out in authority, “Do not move. We have you surrounded!”
Galis ducked all the way down and answered back, “Who, you and your under elf? Who are you?”
Stepping out from a tree a safe distance from them was a young man in a silver tunic and chainmail. His long blue-black hair was held back by a golden circlet.
“Prince Gwen?” the star asked, poking her head over the bush. A pale pink blush colored her white face.
When he saw her gentle frame and her glowing hair, he lowered the point of his sword. “Yes?”
She gave a gleeful cry and ran into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck and weeping for joy.
“Clare sent us to find you. I am bursting with joy at this meeting!”
“Always the princes,” Galis muttered as he sheathed his broadsword as well. Folkvar smirked down at him from the corner of his eye.
“Something we chief’s sons never take for granted,” he mumbled behind a laugh.
Gwen called, “We’ve found more warriors, come.”
Soon they were all seated around a strange fire that crackled out of a cluster of shattered ice Gwen had placed in a circle of stones.
“Fire-ice,” he explained as Galis gasped and withdrew his hand after touching it in curiosity. “It looks like sorcery, but the elf insists it is natural.”
The elf sat down by the barbarian’s side and held out his white hand to bind the burn. Embarrassed, Galis let the elf administer a healing cream and wrap his injury. Folkvar watched with a curious and suspicious frown.
“Under elves don’t heal,” he said quietly.
Gwen heard him and replied, “Ever since Clare came, a lot has changed for us. You have a lot to learn.” He patted the elf’s shoulder in encouragement in case he heard what the norcan had said.
Folkvar didn’t appreci
ate being told by the human prince that he had a lot to learn. After all, he too had met Clare and spent time with her. He saw the effect she had on his world.
The star sat wrapped in one of Gwen’s many fur cloaks. It was dyed blue and thick with bear fur. She sat close to Gwen, soaking up his heat.
“Any chance I could snuggle up in there with you, star girl?” the oracle said with a creepy smile. “It’s oh so cold out here.”
“Can we not cast him into the fire?” Galis moaned, tearing the head from his belt.
“I cannot believe you found the oracle,” Gwen said. “My mother has been searching for that for years. I was raised on tales of its powers and magic. Can it really tell the future and look into other dimensions?”
“No,” Folkvar sighed. “I have seen its usefulness and have more patience than Galis, but I understand his desire to cast it into the flames.”
“Hey now,” the oracle pouted. “I got you here, didn’t I?”
The under elf passed out the hare meat with a strange green leaf on top.
“What is that?” Galis asked, poking the green plant like a dead animal.
“He insists it’s good for you,” Gwen laughed.
More suspicion set into Folkvar’s eyes. “You seem relaxed around this under elf. I would not have thought that kind of prejudice easily dismissed from your royal habits.”
Gwen caught the full meaning of the remark and set his face, determined to not let it rise out of him in anger. He wanted to be better than that.
“It’s like I said,” he repeated calmly. “A lot has changed.”
They chewed the delicious meat in silence for a while and all huddled closer to the fire-ice as the sun went down.
“Have you seen the sun?” Folkvar asked when they were all finished.
“Corruption,” the prince said softly.
“It has reached the Astral Plane, of course,” the star put in. “That is why I was sent away. To escape it.”
Revary Page 14
