The Door Within

by Batson, Wayne Thomas

  Finally, Aidan found one. Without hesitation, he drew his sword and poked a hole in the barrel. A thick greenish-brown fluid began to ooze out. Aidan took off his quiver of arrows and began dipping their razor-sharp tips into the oily liquid. He even let about four inches of the stuff pour into the quiver before he put the arrows back into it. Aidan wanted the arrows to soak in as much of the flammable liquid as possible.

  The fuel-laden quiver slung over his shoulder again, Aidan ran for the edge of the camp. Hoping no one had seen him, Aidan ducked behind a tent. He took out one of the arrows and fitted it to the string of the longbow. Then, he held the point of the arrow in the flames of a nearby torch. The arrowhead ignited instantly, and Aidan took aim.

  He pointed the fiery arrow in the direction of the herds of black-horne. He hoped that the blackwood longbow could fire as far as the twins had claimed. The arrows had to reach the dead grass behind the herd, or the whole plan would fail. Aidan pulled the bowstring back till he thought it might break, and then he released the arrow. It soared high into the night sky and disappeared. Aidan loosed another flaming arrow . . . then another. He fired until he had but one arrow left. He let the arrowhead catch fire from the torch, and he prepared to let it loose, but suddenly, a voice rang out from behind.

  “Hold, Dreadlock! What are you doing?”

  Aidan spun around, the burning arrow still fitted to the bowstring. To his horror, it was the short, slant-eyed Paragor Knight who had stopped Aidan before.

  All Aidan could do was stare—there was no answer he could give to explain why he was shooting flaming arrows into the sky. Then, with the worst timing in history, Aidan’s too-big helmet slid down over half his face and then fell off entirely.

  “Wait a sodden minute,” said the brute. “You’re not a Paragor Knight. Why, you’re not even a Glimpse at all!”

  The furious Paragor Knight drew his sword and charged at Aidan. There was only one thing Aidan could do. He quickly pulled back the bowstring and shot the flaming arrow right at the warrior’s chest. The knight stopped abruptly and looked at Aidan with strange, questioning eyes. At first Aidan thought he had missed, but then, the Paragor Knight fell forward, flat on his face. On his back was a cruel wound still burning from the fuel that had rubbed off the arrow as it passed through the knight’s body. The burning arrow was stuck firmly in a beam of a nearby catapult.

  Aidan stifled the urge to throw up as he stepped over the body and ran out from behind the tent. Now he had to find Gwenne and the others. If he could find them, and if the flaming arrows hit their target, then maybe they would all get out of this. If the arrows didn’t make it, well . . . Aidan thought, they might as well all die together.

  Aidan threw the longbow to the ground and drew his sword. Paragor Knights were still rushing about preparing for battle. Aidan tried his best to look like he too was a Paragor Knight doing something to get ready for the attack. He ran from tent to tent, peeking in only briefly, hoping to find Gwenne.

  But almost every tent was empty—no sign of Gwenne or the Mithegard Glimpses who had also been captured. Then, he saw it— about fifty yards away, in the center of the camp, were three large tents, and there were still dozens of guards posted around them. That had to be it! Before he could take another step, however, Aidan heard something strange. There was a distant rumbling.

  “They’re coming!!” a Paragor Knight yelled.

  “The Knights of Alleble are upon us!” another knight screamed, pointing at the horizon.

  Aidan turned and looked, and there, with the horizon ablaze with orange, was a massive torch-bearing army. Only Aidan knew that they weren’t knights at all. The arrows had reached the dead grass behind the herd. Now the mass of huge animals, many of them bearing lantern spiders, was stampeding in blind terror of the fire behind them. In moments they would crash into the camp. The plan was working!

  Aidan immediately put the War Horn to his lips again and blew several short but deafening bursts. “The Knights of Alleble are too many!” Aidan yelled at the top of his lungs. “Hasten to the caves or we will be overrun!”

  Someone nearby joined in. “Yes, run to the caves beneath the mountain! We can defend them better there than we can on this open ground!”

  Thunderous sounds filled the air as thousands of blackhorne hooves pounded the earth.

  Aidan continued yelling as he ran toward the guarded tent. “We cannot hope to win! The Knights of Alleble will kill us all! Run away! Hide yourselves in the caves! Find holes that you can defend. It’s our only hope!”

  The guards around the big tents already had their swords drawn when Aidan arrived. Once again, his helmet had slid down over his face. Aidan quickly adjusted it and began shouting at the guards, “What are you doing? Haven’t you heard? The full army of Alleble is attacking! They’re everywhere—ten thousand more than our force. And they bring upon us a wave of fire!”

  The leader of the guard objected, “But what about the prisoners?”

  “Let the prisoners burn!” Aidan commanded. “Are they worth your lives? Look!”

  The guards turned just in time to see the first wave of blackhorne crashing into their camp! Only in their minds, it was a battalion of fierce Alleb warriors coming for them. Screams of agony arose from the camp’s front lines as many Paragor Knights were trampled and crushed.

  Seeing this, the guards bolted away from the tent, heading directly for the caves!

  Aidan looked up as well, and he realized with horror that his plan had a major flaw: He, Gwenne, and the other prisoners were right in the path of the stampeding blackhorne!

  Knowing he could be trampled at any moment, Aidan ran to the tent and ducked inside. There, bound and gagged, were Gwenne and five Mithegard Knights.

  The King of Mithegard was not one of them. Aidan wasn’t sure if he should cry for joy or sorrow, but he knew there was no time for either. He took his sword and cut the bindings off Gwenne and the others.

  “Sir Aidan!” Gwenne shouted, spitting out her gag. “Praise the King! I thought you were dead!”

  “Not dead yet!” Aidan barked. “But if we don’t get out of here, we all may be killed. There’s a huge stampede of blackhorne heading right for us! We need to get to the caves beneath the mountains!”

  “Blackhorne?” Gwenne said, staring at Aidan.

  “Where are the other Glimpses from Mithegard?” Aidan asked.

  “There are nearly seventy spread throughout the big tents.”

  “So few?”

  “Many were killed on our journey,” Gwenne said through grit- ted teeth. “They were dragged and trampled to death.”

  “We’ll save all we can,” Aidan said. “We’ve got to go, now!”

  The seven of them ran out of the tent into a chaos even worse than the slaughter at Mithegard. Enormous blackhorne were running wildly everywhere, stomping and crushing. Many Paragor Knights had already been killed, but those who were still alive were fleeing toward the mountains.

  It was no trouble finding swords for Gwenne and the five Mithegardian Glimpses. Weapons littered the ground. Together they went from tent to tent, slashing the bindings and releasing the prisoners. At last, they could find no more.

  “All the Paragor Knights are heading to the caves,” Gwenne said anxiously. “We can’t go there!”

  “Yes we can!” Aidan replied. “It’s a long story, but we don’t have any choice. There are over a thousand blackhorne heading our way, and behind them is a raging fire—look!”

  Gwenne looked at the horizon and saw the orange glow. She also saw the dark tide of terror-stricken beasts still crashing into the camp. Without another word, Aidan, Gwenne, and the others sprinted toward the caves. The blackhorne bounded by them on both sides, several times knocking one or more of them to the ground. They continued on, following the hundreds of Paragor Knights fleeing frantically toward the caves.

  At last they bounded up the slight hill and over the lip of the cave entrance. Aidan swiftly led Gwenne and the ot
hers to a corner of one of the caves where he thought they could safely wait. They waited and watched as hundreds more Paragor Knights poured in through the many cave openings. The Paragor Knights were so frightened that they didn’t even notice Aidan, Gwenne, and the other Mithegard Knights. They ran for cover, to save their own necks.

  Row after row of Paragor Knights entered the caves and disappeared in Falon’s endless tunnels. Their screams echoed everywhere as they ran, but for some of the Paragor Knights, their screams stopped abruptly . . . for Falon had come upon them in the dark.

  31

  THE COST

  OF FREEDOM

  In all my long years, I have never had such a splendid feast,” said Falon, curling back part of her serpentine body so she could scratch her back on a row of stalagmites. “And now, young Aidan, I will take you and your friends back to my stair. I can carry many on my lengthy frame, and it is the least I can do since you have fed me for the next ten years!”

  It was hours after sunup, and the once-menacing army of Paragory was no longer a threat to anyone—except, perhaps, to Falon, who, after such a large meal, might expect a hefty case of indigestion!

  Falon laughed a deep, throaty laugh as Aidan, Gwenne, and the other Glimpses scrambled up her legs to find a spot for the ride. Aidan looked back at the survivors, and was content to be alive and reunited with Gwenne.

  Falon again traveled through the tunnels and caverns beneath the Black Crescent, slower than before, because this time she had a very full stomach and more than seventy passengers holding on for dear life. The trip allowed Aidan time to let his mind wander over all he had learned. Gwenne explained how she had been captured when a squad of Paragor Knights found the trapdoor leading to the cellar in which she had been hiding. Fighting fiercely, she had wounded several enemies, but in the end, Gwenne had been taken captive. Lord Rucifel had planned to use her as a hostage to bargain with the King of Alleble.

  The other Mithegard Knights had been captured during the huge battle at Mithegard or caught trying to flee the city. Had Aidan not rescued them, they were destined to become slaves beyond the Gates of Despair.

  Everyone stared in amazement as Aidan recounted his ordeal and how he had tricked the enemy army.

  “That was a brilliant idea, Sir Aidan,” said Gwenne. “They thought Alleble had emptied, that the bulk of our army was attacking. Lantern spiders, indeed! Absolutely brilliant.”

  “It was so brilliant that it nearly got us all killed,” Aidan replied. “Those blackhorne could have trampled us just as easily as the enemy. I don’t know what influence King Eliam has on beasts in the wild, but I bet he had something to do with our not getting run over.”

  “That may well be, Sir Aidan,” she said, her eyes glassy. “But still it was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  It had been an incredible victory, but for Aidan it was still a hollow victory, for no one had seen or heard from King Ravelle of Mithegard, the Glimpse of Aidan’s father. And of the twelve who originally set out from Alleble, Aidan only knew for sure that he, Gwenne, and Kaliam still lived. Aidan did not yet have the heart to tell Gwenne this or of what befell Captain Valithor as the castle of Mithegard was burning.

  Falon finally dropped the knights off at the bottom of the long stairway back to the surface just a few miles outside of Mithegard. Not a single ray from the sun reached all the way down the stairs, so Falon gave Aidan and his friends a few torches to light their way. Aidan turned and looked at the gigantic mortiwraith. When roused, her appearance was terrifying, but at peace she was a beautiful, radiant creature.

  “Falon, thank you for everything,” Aidan said. “If it wasn’t for you . . .”

  “’Twas a benefit to us all, young Aidan,” she replied, shaking her head. “Finally, I have repaid good Sir Valithor for the kindness he showed me long ago. And in the repaying, I have gained a friend, I think.”

  “Several friends!” Gwenne replied, correcting Falon. “We all are grateful for what you have done. We will make sure that everyone in Alleble knows that you are a hero—not the evil creature written about in the legends.”

  “Now, let’s not be too hasty, hmmm?” Falon laughed sinisterly. “I have grown fond of that reputation—it keeps away unwanted visitors, you see.”

  “I’d like to come back and visit you some time,” Aidan blurted out.

  “Is that allowed, Sir Aidan?” Falon asked. “Well, no matter. You, Sir Aidan, are forever welcome here.” Falon turned to leave, but quickly looked back at the young knight. “Now, on your way. Farewell, young Aidan. Farewell all!!”

  And with that Falon was gone—back to the dark caverns and tunnels beneath the mountains. Aidan turned and led the way up the steep, winding stairway.

  Somehow, the climb was so much easier than the descent, for Aidan had nothing left to fear. In a flash they reached the top, where the late-afternoon sun all but blinded them.

  “It is glorious to be out in the sun again,” one of the Mithegard Knights declared.

  “It is glorious to be free!” another agreed.

  Aidan turned, looked at the Mithegard Knights, and couldn’t help but smile. They were filled with tremendous joy—the joy of freedom that can only be felt by those who realize what it’s like to have that freedom taken from them. It was at that moment, staring into their eyes, that Aidan realized something amazing.

  “Your eyes glint blue!” he yelled at the Mithegard Knights.

  “These knights,” Gwenne announced, gesturing, “have decided to follow the King of Alleble.”

  “We should have made this decision long ago,” said one of the knights, his long blond hair dancing in the light breeze. “We were entranced by the shiny gold trinkets from Paragory’s poison vaults. . . . Our greed has cost us much.”

  Aidan recalled the slaughter at Mithegard. It just didn’t make sense how so many could be so blinded by their desires for riches and power. But then Aidan remembered how, deep in Falon’s maze, he himself had foolishly gone after the golden treasures, ignoring the right path.

  “Yes,” Aidan nodded gravely. “We are all very fortunate to have survived our poor decisions.”

  “Well said,” agreed one of the Mithegard Knights. Aidan fought the urge to laugh. It had been well said, but where in the world had this surprising wisdom come from?

  Before this adventure, Aidan had struggled just to get a C on a math test, but now . . . now things were different. Aidan could know more, see more, and do more than he ever could have alone. And I will never be alone again, Aidan thought.

  They walked for another hour, their pace quickening as they drew nearer to the burned-out walls of Mithegard. When they approached the smashed gates, Glimpses in bright silver armor poured out to greet them, but they were not from the ruined city. They were Knights of Alleble, and leading the way were four familiar faces.

  Kaliam, Farix, Nock, and Mallik charged into Gwenne and Aidan. They held one another for long, silent moments as only soldiers who have battled side by side can embrace. In the looks that were exchanged there was grief, exhaustion, understanding, and relief. Great joy there was also, but tragedy tempered every smile.

  “Sir Aidan, I feared you would perish in that dreadful creature’s lair!” Kaliam declared, grasping Aidan by the shoulders. “And, Gwenne, it was almost beyond hope to have you both back safe!”

  “Almost,” Gwenne agreed, hugging Kaliam in turn. “But, with the mighty King of Alleble behind us, nothing is beyond hope! It was an extraordinary adventure!”

  “I knew you’d make a first-rate knight the moment I saw you!” declared Mallik with a gleam in his eyes. Nock cast a disparaging look at his hammer-wielding friend.

  “Your arm, Aidan!” exclaimed Kaliam. “That nasty wound needs attention.”

  “I’ll be all right.” In a weird kind of way, he was hoping it would leave a scar.

  “How did you do it?” asked Farix. “How did you pass Falon’s Stair? And how did you liberate Gwenne and the Mithegardia
ns?”

  “I’ll be glad to tell you,” Aidan said, looking among the other knights who had come out to greet them. “But where . . . where are the others?”

  Mallik’s jaw trembled, but he mastered it and threw his shoulders back. Tears burst forth from Nock’s eyes. Kaliam seemed the only one who could speak. “Tal is in the city, for he could not bear to leave the wounded. But . . . the rest of our company, the rest fell in the battle.”

  “No,” Aidan said, choking. He looked questioningly into Nock’s eyes. “Bolt?”

  “My brother was slain,” Nock said slowly. “We emptied our quivers on the dark knights, but still they came. We fought with sword and dagger, but they rushed us with spearmen. Bolt was slain from behind, and I would have died with him if it weren’t for the valiant onslaught of Sir Mallik. He brought his hammer on those villains and drove their bones into the earth! Never again will I argue my bow against his hammer.”

  “I only wish—” said Mallik. “I only wish I could have gotten to you sooner. But my hammer cannot reach like your bows.”

  Kaliam said, “Matthias and Eleazar were defending the castle gates when . . . when an explosion took them.”

  Gwenne stared wide-eyed like a lost child. Her question was barely audible. “You did not speak of Captain Valithor?”

  Aidan, half-choked with tears, told Gwenne of the Captain’s brave sacrifice. She fell into Aidan’s arms, and they wept.

  Finally, Kaliam said, “There will be time for mourning, but there is much left to be done—not the least of which is to get you a warm bath, a warm plate, and a warm bed lest your spirit fail utterly. Come, the city is not wholly destroyed, and with the supply sent from Alleble, the board is not as bare as you may suspect.”

  As Kaliam and the other Alleb Knights ushered them inside, Aidan began to realize just how dirty, hungry, and weary he had become. His armor, still the black-and-crimson Paragor armor he had borrowed from Falon, was caked with dirt and dried blood. The fabric of his breeches and other garments was filthy with sweat and grime from the horrific battles and difficult travels. He longed for a warm bath and a fresh set of clothes. Never before had he so much wanted to be clean.