Realmwalker

by Jonathan Franks

  “I don’t know. You want to entrust me with that? I’m just a farmer! What good can I do for The Meadows? How can I be expected to be responsible for… Well, for everyone?” Ivy demanded. Nai had been trying for the last year to officially name Ivy as her successor. “I can’t do it! I can’t help anyone like you can, I can’t mediate all of their problems and issues. I… I’m just a farmer. I just do my thing and I let everyone else do their thing.”

  Nai raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing and allowed Ivy to continue.

  “You need someone smart, who knows the laws and the rules and has a good direction for the Realm in mind! You need someone who can dedicate herself to this. I have too much depending on me here. How am I supposed to leave this?” She gestured broadly upward and around with her arms, then realized her breasts were exposed above the waterline. She sank back down into the water, crossed her arms and frowned, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  If Nai noticed, she didn’t give any sign. She held Ivy’s eyes in a long stare. “Ivy, dear, do you trust Rommy? Do you trust Tate?”

  Ivy lowered her gaze. “No. I don’t.”

  “I’ve been too long without a successor. I am sure that if I were to die now, someone would figure out succession and someone would be made Sovereign. I don’t know who that would be, and that frightens me. I need to know that this Realm, where I’ve spent my entire life — where you have spent your entire life — will be safe and in good hands. I need to know that someone just and true will be here to take my place. I have to know that my successor can rise to this challenge and that all of our people can count on her.” She stood and brought Ivy her robe. “I want that to be you.” She held the robe up at shoulder level.

  Ivy turned around and stood up, her back facing Nai. She slipped her arms and wings into the robe, then wrapped it around herself and turned around. Nai offered her a hand to help her out of the tub. Ivy took it, but still flittered her wings to gently lift out of the water and settle on the floor.

  “There’s no one else?” Ivy asked.

  “You know there isn’t anyone I trust more than you.”

  Ivy closed her eyes and sighed, deep in thought. With her eyes closed, she hadn’t noticed that Nai had taken her hairbrush. She moaned appreciatively when Nai started brushing her hair. The heavy brush sliding through her thick, wet hair felt wonderful.

  “I was your mentor,” Nai said, “but you were always more than a pupil to me. You know how special you are to me. Don’t say no, Ivy. Please.”

  Ivy didn’t move, still enjoying having her hair brushed. She opened her eyes and saw herself in the mirror, with Nai standing behind her. “Okay,” she said. “All right, I’ll do it.”

  She saw Nai’s lips form into a broad, knowing smile. “Good. Thank you. Truly, thank you.” She put the brush on the table and wrapped her arms around Ivy’s shoulders, hugging her from behind. “Thank you.”

  “What do I need to do?” Ivy asked.

  “You need to get dressed. There are people who want to meet you.”

  “What? Now?”

  “Yes, now,” Nai said. “There are several emissaries from The Sky who want to be introduced to my successor.”

  Ivy turned around to face Nai, her mouth open in surprise. “You mean, you.. brought them here? Before I accepted? You knew I—”

  “—would say yes? Yes,” Nai said, smiling. “I knew you would.”

  Ivy glared at her, trying to look far more upset than she actually felt. She knew she wasn’t fooling Nai at all. She harrumphed at Nai and, shaking her head, walked to the wardrobe to get dressed.

  -

  Ivy was doing her best to feel like she belonged in this crowd. She felt like she was back in apprenticeship again, shadowing and following her mentor around. It was fourteen years ago when she had first apprenticed to Silla to learn herbology and farming. For ten years she’d been a master herbologist and been entirely on her own. Silla had died a few years ago, leaving her farm to Ivy. Ivy had no problem managing what was effectively a double plot, but it did mean that she had quite a lot more work to do than the other farmers.

  She tried to look delicate and sophisticated and took a sip of ambrosia from her tall fluted glass. It was much stronger than anything she usually had and her head was swimming.

  “Ambassador,” she asked, “please, I would like to hear more about The Sky. I’ve never been there.”

  Ambassador Veen answered graciously and poetically. “It is a place of great beauty and cool, crisp winds. We can see over most of the Realms from on high. From my home, The Meadows is but a singular jewel of the purest green.” His voice was smooth and polished, very deliberate in inflection and tone. “From here,” he continued, “I can see plainly that it’s not just a jewel, but a sparkling and varied land of wonder.”

  Ivy smiled politely, knowing that she was hearing the practiced verse of a long-time politician. “Thank you, Ambassador.”

  “Please, dear, call me Veen.”

  “Then I thank you, Veen,” she smiled at him.

  He smiled back at her and excused himself to get another drink.

  Ivy desperately scanned the room, looking for Nai. Socialite training seemed to be like everything else Nai had ever taught her. Nai led gently, up to a point, and then let her fly on her own. Ivy didn’t think she’d completely embarrassed herself or her Sovereign yet. So far, so good.

  She saw Nai, golden hair shimmering in the warm and equally golden light cast by the lightstones hovering at regular intervals around the room. They made her long, backless dress shimmer and sparkle like pearls. She slowly, elegantly tipped her wings back and forth so they would catch the light to shimmer green and gold.

  Ivy felt very plain in comparison. Her dress was a lacy webbing of sky blue under a sheer, sapphire blue ankle-length chemise. It didn’t shine or sparkle at all.

  Nai beckoned her over, and Ivy flitted to her, her toes skimming the floor.

  “Walk, Ivy,” Nai said, softly, “and with pride. Don’t drag your feet. You will be the ruler of this place.” She smiled at Ivy. “At least pretend like you belong here.”

  “I’m trying,” Ivy hissed back at her, then she looked at the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m trying but this is all very new to me.”

  “I know, dear. You’re doing just fine. Ambassador Veen seems very taken with you.”

  “Really? I was asking him about The Sky, but he just made some odd, dismissive references to The Meadows and left.”

  “Trust me. He is impressed with you. They all are. You’re making a good impression.” She looked Ivy up and down. “And you look beautiful. Keep your wings up and stand proud. You truly represent The Meadows.”

  Ivy took a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

  “You’re doing fine. Ah, here comes Herron. He visits a lot of other Realms. Well-travelled, handsome, smart. Someone you should get to know,” she said to Ivy with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Oh, please.” Ivy rolled her eyes.

  Herron approached them and bowed deeply. “Sovereign,” he said, then turning to Ivy, “and successor.” He was taller than Ivy, with wavy purple hair and very tall ears. His left ear was pierced at the tip with a small silver hoop.

  “Good evening, Herron,” Nai said. “This is Ivy. She has many questions about The Sky, and the other Realms, I’m sure.” She winked at Ivy and took a step backward. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Ivy glared at her for an instant but then put a smile on as she looked at Herron.

  “You’re a Realmwalker, I hear,” said Ivy. “That must be fascinating, seeing all kinds of different places.”

  “Fascinating if you don’t do it a lot. Mostly, it’s just trying to get used to all kinds of odd local food. One place becomes much the same as another. Switch all of this rich farmland and grass for plains of diamond-white snow as far as you can see, and you have the Winter Kingdom. Winterfolk are much like Meadowfolk. Hard workers, warm and caring people. Most places are a l
ot alike.”

  “How many Realms have you been to?” Ivy asked.

  “You know, I’m not exactly sure. Thirty? Forty?”

  “How many more until you’ve seen them all?”

  “All?” Herron laughed. “Nobody knows exactly how many Realms there are. The theory is that there is an infinite number. I do know that I have visited every Realm that is visible from my home in The Sky.”

  “Wow,” was all Ivy could say. Nai was right. Herron was handsome and charming. “Okay, what’s the oddest Realm you’ve visited, then?”

  “Oh,” answered Herron immediately, “The River, beyond a doubt.”

  “The River?”

  “The Sky and The River are the only two Realms that border a great many other Realms, and are the two easiest Realms to cross in and out of. The River winds its way along the borders of a lot of Realms, just as The Sky is above them. But The River is odd because it’s almost like two Realms. On the islands, on the surface, are fairies like you and me. But under the surface, beneath the waters, there live the Mer. Interesting folk.”

  “The Mer? I’ve never even heard of them,” Ivy said.

  “We don’t know exactly where they come from, or how they come to be. I’ve never heard of how their Arrivals work. But where we are born of joy, from emotion, from a human as his life begins, the Mer come from those who never got to have their moment of joy. They say that if a human dies before experiencing joy, their spirit becomes Mer.”

  “How terrible,” Ivy said. “What are they like?”

  “They can’t come out of the water unless they’re enchanted,” Herron said. “I’ve met a few who were enchanted, on the islands, and a couple have visited The Sky. They are odd. Cold. Calculating, very precise. They don’t have any sort of emotion at all. A little unsettling to deal with, but most of the time, you can trust that they’re being honest.”

  “Wow. I’m not sure whether I hope to meet one, or never to meet one,” Ivy said.

  “You have a beautiful world here. I’d be in no hurry to leave if I were you. Other Realms may be fascinating, but they’re very dangerous. Most of the time, it’s just because you don’t know the rules and you don’t know the threats. Anything can happen.” He smiled at her. “Still, I’d rather do what I do than stay stuck in one place. I like to wander.”

  “I bet.” She looked around the room at all of the strangers who had come to The Meadows. “I guess I have plenty to do right here. Who needs to leave?”

  “Not many. But those who do… Well, they truly do. Go where your fate leads you. Go where you’re needed. If that means staying at home, then that’s what you’re meant to do. That doesn’t make it any less great than traveling from place to place.”

  She held Herron’s gaze for a moment too long, then felt awkward about it. She looked away and surveyed the room again. “I was happy just to work the farm,” she told him. “Apparently, I was made for something a little greater than that, though. At least, that’s what Nai says.”

  “You will have the interests of your Realm to protect. There’s no greater cause than protecting what matters to you. You’ll be a great Sovereign when it’s your time.” Someone signaled to him from the other side of the room. He nodded at the other fairy, then turned back to Ivy. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I’m needed by my own ruler. It was lovely to talk to you. I hope we can do it again. If you’re ever up my way…” He grinned at her, then shrugged. “Or I’ll make sure to find you when I come back this way.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You never know,” she said.

  “No,” he said, suddenly more serious than he had been. “You never know.” He bowed to Ivy, then strode across the room.

  Ivy couldn’t help watching him as he left her side. She sighed again, then turned around to look for someone else to talk to.

  chapter 6

  It was raining at the cemetery. Of course it’s raining, Emmet thought. Funerals are supposed to happen on gray, rainy, shitty days like this. He looked around, peeking out from under his bent umbrella. Almost everyone had gone when the weather started to get bad. There were only a few of them left - all of the ones Emmet knew would stay.

  Ray looked stoic, as always. Lou - or Lucy, since he had come in drag - stood next to him, clutching his arm, mascara running down his cheeks from tears and rain, and looking just like Jackie O at JFK’s funeral. Pierre, who was actually a Peter but he had everybody call him Pierre, was also openly crying. He was wearing a thin, tight, white shirt and orange pants, now soaked through from the rain. And finally, there was Pierre’s new boy toy. Emmet didn’t know his name. Pierre always had a train of new boy toys.

  The five of them stood there, watching the handfuls of dirt they’d thrown on Donny’s coffin turn to mud. Emmet watched the water flow off the casket and listened to the thunder rolling in. He didn’t want to be the first to wimp out, but the rain was freezing cold and wet and he already had the shakes and goose bumps and his stomach felt like it was going to let go soon. He hadn’t had a bump for two days and he was feeling it badly.

  Donny was the careful one. He had been terrified of a slow, sick death. He never used. He always wore a condom. Well, almost always. And almost was enough to have killed him. It only took a year and a half from his finding the first lesion and being diagnosed with AIDS to being laid to rest in the muddy ground. Emmet was high and convinced him to mess around with some guys he’d met at some club. They were both infected. Technically, it was pneumonia that had killed Donny, but Emmet felt like he’d murdered his lover.

  Emmet didn’t know why he was still alive and Donny wasn’t. He loved Donny so much and he felt crippling guilt that it was his fault Donny got infected. Donny kept telling Emmet that he didn’t blame him, that it happens and he knew the risks of what they were doing. Emmet didn’t take well to Donny’s ever-worsening condition and sickness, guilty about what he’d done, guiltier that he wasn’t outwardly sick yet. The needle and spoon didn’t make any of it go away, but Emmet took whatever refuge he could. And he knew all of that same suffering was coming for him.

  Pierre and his new boy came over to him and murmured some condolences, then they left. Ray, Lucy, and Emmet trudged out of the cemetery and got into Ray’s car, a newish Buick Regal, white with dark blue velour seats. Emmet knew their being sopping wet on his nice seats would make Ray crazy. But he also knew Ray wouldn’t say anything. Not in front of him, anyway.

  Ray turned around to face Emmet, sitting in the back seat. “Em, I’m really sorry. You know if you need anything...” He trailed off, then faced forward and started driving. From Ray, that was a lot of words. It wasn’t lost on Emmet, though, that Ray gave the illusion of helpfulness without actually offering to help.

  They drove in silence to Golden Nugget, a shitty 24-hour breakfast diner on the north side, near where Emmet and Donny lived. They’d all been coming here for years, and since Ray was the only member of their cadre who had a proper job, they kept eating here because this is where they could afford to go when they were strung out and only had enough money to keep coffee flowing at three in the morning.

  Nobody had very much to say while they ate. They had known each other long enough and well enough that this kind of silence wasn’t awkward, but it was very, very heavy. Just as their food was brought out, Emmet was nearly overcome again.

  “Please,” he said, his voice thick and tight, “somebody say something.”

  Ray took another drink of his coffee and looked at Lou.

  Lou shook his head. “Honey, it’ll be okay. We’ll all take care of you, don’t you worry about anything.”

  “I’m dying, too,” said Emmet.

  “Oh, Em, honey,” Lou protested. “Don’t talk like that. You’re not dying.”

  “I am. I have it, too, and I’ll get sick and I’ll throw up and have sores and diarrhea and cough up bloody chunks, too,” he cried. He put his head down on the table. His forehead was resting on a sticky spot left from some other customer’s maple syrup but
he didn’t bother to move. “I’m done for.”

  Ray and Lou ate the rest of their food, but Emmet didn’t touch his. He had no appetite. Ray picked up the check, and they headed back to the car.

  Lou touched Ray’s arm and said, “Ray Ray, I’m going to walk Emmet home. I just don’t think he should be alone right now.”

  Ray raised an eyebrow, looked at Emmet, then back at Lou. “All right,” he said, and Emmet could hear disapproval. “See you... Whenever you get home, I guess.” He kissed Lou on the cheek, got in the car, and drove off.

  Lou took Emmet’s arm and walked him down the street toward his apartment. “Em, honey, I have got just the thing to cheer you up.”

  “You need clean needles now, Lucy,” Emmet said. “No more sharing.”

  “Don’t you worry about that.” Lou giggled. “I swiped these off a diabetic chick!”

  Emmet looked at him, incredulous. Lou just laughed. Emmet was afraid to ask whether he was serious, so he didn’t. He let Lou lead him home, and they shot up together.

  -

  Emmet sprawled on his old, orange, corduroy couch and dragged his fingers over the ribbed surface, back and forth, over and over. His eyes were wonderfully heavy and he finally felt relaxed. His body had loosened up like releasing the tension on a wire.

  He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. That was when it always came. The place he wanted to be. He was in a lush, green forest. The trees were everywhere, as far as he could see. There were all kinds: thick and thin and tall and short. Some had needles, some had leaves. Some had brown bark, some had white, and some had mottled green skin like watermelons. He always felt at peace here.

  Sometimes he visited other places: cities made of clouds, fiery lava mountains, pale white tundra, green farmlands, volcanic island chains, labyrinthine tunnels and caverns. But of them all, the forest was his favorite. Some of the other places filled him with anxiety, like he knew they were too good to be true and they wouldn’t last. The forest had a lurking element of danger that made it feel so real, and it didn’t feel like it was going to fall apart. Everywhere else, even the real world, he mused, felt like it was about to fall apart.