“I do not know, Sir Aidan,” Gwenne replied. “Seeing this grand city so lifeless gives me an uneasy feeling.”
“Maybe we should go to the castle. There has to be someone there,” Aidan suggested.
“Yes,” Gwenne agreed. “Perhaps we can find answers there.”
They navigated the city’s many streets until, finally, they arrived at the castle’s front gate. It was open, but there were four more Mithegard Knights standing guard.
Aidan and Gwenne made it clear that they were planning to cross the drawbridge and enter the castle. But the knights moved in front of the gate to block them.
“Where do you think you are going, young Allebs?” one of the knights asked.
Not again! Aidan thought.
“We are here to see the King of Mithegard,” Gwenne answered, trying to sound important. She apparently was also fed up with being called a child. “We are on an errand for His Majesty, the noble King Eliam of Alleble.”
“Oh, really?” sneered the knight, and the others smirked. “Well, I’m afraid King Ravelle is a little busy now holding court. So . . . why don’t you take your little blue-eyed self back to Alleble?!”
The four knights laughed and then stared at Gwenne and Aidan, apparently expecting them to leave. Then, finally, Aidan discovered what was different about them.
All the Glimpses of Alleble had eyes that glinted blue, but these four Mithegard Glimpses, and the others outside the city, had eyes that flashed bright green!
Mallik was right . . . the eyes do tell the tale.
“Good Knights of Mithegard,” Gwenne spoke again. She stood to her full height and cast a disdainful look upon the guards. “I shudder to think of what Captain Valithor would do to those who insulted citizens of Alleble . . .”
The guards stopped laughing as if the air had been vacuumed right out of their lungs.
“C-Captain Valithor!” one of the guards stuttered. “He’s coming here?!”
Gwenne grinned. “As a matter of fact, we were traveling with him, but a great storm separated us. We hope he will be along any day now.”
The guards looked terrified. Apparently, Captain Valithor was well known—and feared outside Alleble as well! Apologizing continuously, the guards stepped aside and allowed Aidan and Gwenne to enter the castle.
Once past the gate, they entered a great hallway decorated with ornate banners and tapestries. They had barely gone ten steps when Aidan stopped.
“Why did you say that Captain Valithor would be coming?”
Aidan asked solemnly. “He’s probably dead.”
Gwenne nodded. “I didn’t say he was coming. I said we hoped he was coming—and we do! Right?”
Aidan agreed. Captain Valithor was as tough as they came, and Aidan certainly hoped he had somehow made it through the Tempest.
“Sir Aidan, I hear voices up ahead,” Gwenne said, starting to walk on. “I am anxious to see with whom the King of Mithegard is holding court.”
“But, Gwenne,” Aidan persisted, grabbing Gwenne’s arm. “Did you see? Their eyes sparkled with green!”
Gwenne seemed stunned momentarily. Her cheeks grew pink in embarrassment. “I cannot believe I have not explained this to you before now. The eyes—”
“No, that’s okay. Mallik told me about it. Blue for those who serve Alleble. Green for the undecided. Red for the followers of Paragor.”
“That’s exactly right.”
“But what about Acsriot?” Aidan asked. “His eyes changed from blue to red.”
“I do not know how Acsriot was able to do it,” Gwenne replied. “Acsriot was a master of all the herbs and elements in The Realm. Or perhaps Paragor has taught his minions some foul new art.”
“But what about my eyes, Gwenne?” Aidan began, alarm in his voice. “My eyes are blue, but they don’t glint any color at all. What does that mean?”
“It means, Sir Aidan . . . ,” she began thoughtfully. “You are not a Glimpse. Your eyes do not change unless—”
Gwenne never finished the sentence, for several trumpet blasts shattered the quiet and echoed throughout the enormous arched hall. Gwenne immediately ran down the hallway. And Aidan, dumbfounded as usual, tried to keep up.
Eventually, they found themselves at the doorway to the Throne Room of Mithegard. But they couldn’t get in or even see in because of the mass of Glimpses who had gathered there. Gwenne spotted a door off to the side of the throne room. “This way, Sir Aidan,” she said, gesturing. “Most castles have passages to allow servants special access to their royalty.”
She was right! The passage led them right to the head of the room, only ten yards back diagonally from the King’s throne! Because they were slightly behind the throne, they couldn’t see the King, but they could see almost everyone in the crowd.
And because they were peeking out between two curtains, no one noticed them there. Aidan turned to Gwenne to speak, but she looked stricken. If it were possible, her skin looked even whiter than usual! Then, Aidan looked out into the assembly and saw immediately what had affected Gwenne. He, too, fell silent.
There in the center of the throne room was a large band of Glimpse knights. They were dressed in black armor streaked violently with scarlet, and each knight had the same terrible stabbing red eyes. They were armed, and their shields bore a strange red symbol that looked like an inverted crown. They were the Knights of Paragor.
One of them, a particularly menacing Glimpse who wore all black armor with a dark red hooded robe, stood in front of the rest. His face looked stretched and aged, and his eyes seemed somewhat sunken beneath his wildly bushy gray brows. On his forehead he wore a gold circlet. A confident smile played across his lips as if he were the King of Mithegard and ruled all before him.
“That is Lord Rucifel, the enemy’s second in command,” Gwenne explained. “Paragor does not usually send him forth as an ambassador. I wonder what that could mean.”
Aidan shuddered. There seemed to be something dark and venomous that emanated from the warriors of Paragory. But Lord Rucifel was far worse than the rest. His sunken eyes and stretched face made Aidan think of things that were dead and decaying.
“Worthy King Ravelle, it is my honor to appear before you,” Lord Rucifel began, his voice high and musical, dripping with flattery as he spoke to the unseen ruler of Mithegard. “Under your mighty hand, Mithegard with its famed seven towers has become a thriving kingdom.”
Cheers erupted, mostly from the other Paragor Knights. Their commander was a crafty speaker, and they hung on every word.
“We come in peace from Paragory, yet another prosperous land—your nearest neighbor to the south. And we seek to form an agreement. An agreement, noble King, that would make both of our lands more wealthy and powerful than our wildest, most fantastic dreams.”
The ambassador paused to let each Glimpse of Mithegard imagine matchless armies and vaults full of gold. They would fantasize themselves into a greedy trance—just as he had planned.
“The mighty Prince of Paragory,” the ambassador continued, “has asked me to present you with a gift if I may. It was forged by the Prince’s personal blacksmith in the fires deep beneath the Prince’s Crown. Please accept this gift as a pledge of friendship from the land of Paragory.”
The ambassador unwrapped a long bundle, revealing an unbelievably marvelous sword. Its grip was polished silver with six red gems set in the hilt. Its blade, however, was what caused many jaws to drop and eyes to stare. The blade was black and reflective as if it had been dipped in a dark ink that never dried. It looked beautiful and priceless. Even Aidan, though he already had a magnificent blade, found himself desiring the dark sword.
Rucifel bowed in an exaggerated fashion and held out the sword with both hands. Aidan and Gwenne watched as the King of Mithegard stood up from his throne and walked down the four steps to where Lord Rucifel knelt.
King Ravelle was a tall, dark-haired Glimpse, and he wore a splendid blue robe that shimmered as he walked. Aidan
watched the King take the sword from Lord Rucifel. Aidan still could not see the King’s face, but he could easily hear him when he spoke.
“On behalf of Mithegard,” the King announced, “we welcome you into our land. And though there is much to discuss before we will be bound by any agreement, we gladly accept your token of friendship!”
There was deafening applause. The Glimpses of Mithegard seemed only too happy to welcome evil into their kingdom. Gwenne shook her head sadly. Paragor’s ambassadors had reached Mithegard first. They had come with a full brigade of knights in full armor. And they brought a special gift and promises of much more.
Gwenne and Aidan had no ambassador. They had no sparkling gifts. Their mission had just become immeasurably more difficult.
But Aidan wasn’t thinking about the mission. All he could think about was the voice of King Ravelle. His voice was so familiar—but that wasn’t possible, was it? Aidan had never been to The Realm before. Aidan had never met a Glimpse before. And he certainly had not met the King of Mithegard before! Still, his voice sounded so similar to someone else’s.
But whose?
The answer was there, flitting around in Aidan’s mind, but he just couldn’t grasp it. Aidan stared at the back of the King who was talking privately to Lord Rucifel.
“C’mon, come on . . . turn around,” Aidan muttered to himself. “I know you. I know I know you—just turn around so I can see your face.”
As if in answer to Aidan’s silent command, the King of Mithegard turned to hand the dark sword to a nearby servant.
For the first time, Aidan saw King Ravelle’s face. Aidan choked and staggered backward from the curtain. There was a sharp ringing in his ears. Blackness swirled in from the fringes of his vision.
22
REVELATIONS
Gwenne caught Aidan as he crumpled to the ground, or the noise might have attracted the attention of one of the Mithegard Knights. For several long minutes, Aidan lay unconscious, breathing heavily until, at last, he began to wake up. Where am I? he thought. What happened? But as he gazed up into Gwenne’s blue eyes, memories began to fill in the blanks.
“Sir Aidan, are you all right?” she asked. “I almost didn’t catch you!”
“Gwenne,” he whispered urgently. “The King of Mithegard . . .”
Aidan stood up clumsily and went to the curtain to look again. He had to be sure. He parted the curtains ever so slightly and looked at King Ravelle, who was talking quietly with a group of knights but still facing in Aidan’s direction. The dark, bushy eyebrows, the large dignified nose, the squared jaw—there could be no doubt!
“Gwenne, the King of Mithegard . . . is my father!”
“What?” she gasped. “Your father?”
“It’s him,” Aidan insisted. “I mean . . . he’s got the white skin and flickering eyes like a Glimpse, but it’s definitely him. Gwenne, how can that be?”
Gwenne pulled Aidan away from the curtains, and they both sat down with their backs against a stone wall. Gwenne hesitated, drew in a deep breath. “Sir Aidan, you must believe me when I tell you that I had no idea you would meet your father’s Glimpse here in Mithegard. It is rare for King Eliam to allow one of your kind to see a Glimpse of a family member or a close friend.”
Aidan struggled to understand. “A Glimpse of my family?”
Gwenne frowned. “Oh, Captain Valithor should be the one to explain this to you! I’m no master of Alleble’s lore.”
“Well, the Captain’s not here, Gwenne,” Aidan said, feeling a breach in his trust of Gwenne. Is she hiding something? he wondered.
“Very well, Aidan. You certainly should know this. Your father, and every person in your world, has a Glimpse twin.”
“A twin? Like an identical twin?”
“Now, see,” she said growing frustrated, “I don’t know everything, but if by identical you mean exactly the same, like Nock and Bolt, then no . . . not identical. Time works differently in The Realm as compared to your world. And while King Ravelle is like your father in most ways, he may be a different age entirely.”
Aidan stared blankly at her.
“I know it is difficult to grasp,” Gwenne continued. “There are many in The Realm who do not understand, and many more who simply deny it is true. Remember I told you that long ago, before time was reckoned, our worlds were one. One world, Aidan. But something happened, and only the wisest of The Realm know exactly what, but it was something of extraordinary evil. The fabric of the universe was torn apart, and instead of one world, there was The Realm and there was Earth. That was The Schism. Each world still mirrors the other. Each Glimpse has a human twin. Each human has a Glimpse twin.”
“Wait, Gwenne,” Aidan said. “So if King Ravelle’s a Glimpse of my dad, he’d have a son—a Glimpse just like me!”
“That is possible, Aidan, but you must understand the time difference, for it is just as possible that King Ravelle has not even had a child yet. Your Glimpse may not yet be born. I certainly haven’t seen him.”
“But if King Ravelle did have a son, he could be here in Mithegard. We might even run into him!”
“Shhhhh,” warned Gwenne. “A guard might hear. As far as meeting your Glimpse here, I do not believe that is possible,” she whispered. “Again, I do not fully understand this, but it has something to do with The Schism. A person may travel here, and a Glimpse may travel to your world—but what I have been told is that can only happen once, and only for a short time. And that the Glimpse and the person can never be in the same realm together.”
“So that means there could be a Glimpse of me running around messing things up for me in Colorado?” Aidan asked.
“I do not know, Aidan. But if your Glimpse is in your realm, he would do nothing evil unless you do something evil here. For whatever a person does in your world affects what his Glimpse does in our world. You see, Sir Aidan, when our worlds divided, there remained a connection, like an invisible tether linking the lives and events of The Realm and Earth.”
How many mysteries can there be in this world? Aidan wondered. He remained quiet and Gwenne went on.
“Something else you should know,” Gwenne said. “When someone in your world chooses to believe in the story from The Scrolls, then a Glimpse here becomes a citizen of Alleble.”
“. . . and gets eyes that glint blue?”
“Yes, that’s right!” she said.
“Gwenne, what happens if someone doesn’t believe in the story of Alleble?”
“That person’s Glimpse would go his own way for a time but would eventually become enslaved by the Prince. Perhaps, Sir Aidan, you are here for that very reason. Your part in saving Mithegard might lead your father to believe in the story of Alleble before it is too late.”
“Too late?”
“Yes, people have only their lifetime to choose whom to follow: They can believe in the story of Alleble and follow the King, or they can follow the dark path of indecision and disbelief.”
Aidan’s fear for his father was mounting, so he asked, “What about when someone dies?”
“When a person dies, his Glimpse also dies. If that person believed in the story of Alleble before death, he would become one with his Glimpse and go to be with King Eliam in the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun. But if someone dies who disbelieves or is undecided, he and his Glimpse become locked eternally in the torturous dungeons beneath the Prince’s Crown.”
Aidan remembered the captives, chained and terrified, being dragged into the Gates of Despair. Aidan felt numb and angry. How could this be?! He and most people spent their whole lives playing, going to school, and working—without ever having the slightest clue that the story of Alleble was real and that their lives forever depended on whether or not they believed.
“Gwenne, I’ve got to get back to my world!” Aidan stood up, eyes wide, the panic evident in his tone of voice. “I can’t let my father go on not believing!”
Gwenne stood up and put her hands on Aidan’s shoulders. “No,
don’t you see? It is King Eliam’s will that you are here! The only way you can help your father is by helping his Glimpse, the King of Mithegard, to follow the right path!”
Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash. Aidan and Gwenne spun and looked down the passageway. One of King Ravelle’s servants stood there, a dropped tray of dishes and goblets at his feet. He looked just as surprised as Aidan and Gwenne felt! Before they could run away, the servant began screaming, “Guards! Guards! There are spies behind the throne! Hurry, before they escape!”
There was no chance of escape, for in an instant a swarm of Mithegard Knights had grabbed Aidan and Gwenne by the arms and dragged them out into the center of the throne room.
They were surrounded on all sides by knights and citizens of Mithegard, as well as the dark Knights of Paragor. And worse still, the King of Mithegard approached them, scrutinizing them with his eyes, eyes of dark brown but ever-flickering green.
“Ethelbred,” said the King to the servant who had discovered Aidan and Gwenne. “Your desire to keep your sovereign safe is admirable. But I think there is little to fear from these—they are but youths!”
A number of the Mithegard Knights laughed heartily, but the Paragory ambassador, Lord Rucifel, strode forward. His face, which had been confident and cordial before, flashed with furious anger.
“Do not be too hasty, good King,” said Lord Rucifel. “The lad is a crossover, a dark skin from the Other Land. The girl, however, is from Alleble. I believe the King of Alleble is against our treaty!”
The King of Mithegard looked at Gwenne’s eyes more closely. “Ah . . . yes, you are right. She is from Alleble! So, young one, is that it? Are you here to spy on our meeting with the good Glimpses from Paragory?”
Aidan had heard his father use that tone a million times. It was the old “I’m an adult, and I know better than you” tone! Aidan didn’t like it from his father or his father’s Glimpse!
Apparently, Gwenne didn’t care for the tone either. “We were not spying! We simply couldn’t get in the front door to the throne room, so we found another way in! Besides, I am part of the company from Alleble you invited here yourself !”
The Door Within Page 16
