Bridge Between the Worlds (Dreamwalker Book 1)

by R. B. L. Gillmore

  “Amy, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t mean to hurt anyone, it was an accident.”

  Straight away Martay knew that this wasn’t going to work. Her gazed flicked up at him briefly and she managed to give him a half smile but within a second the look was gone and she was gazing unhappily at her shoes again. Martay opened his mouth to try again but thought better of it. Perhaps it was best to leave her in peace for a while.

  As the journey continued however her demeanour remained utterly unchanged. The mountains had now well and truly risen on either side of the valley they were travelling through. Their course was now much more easterly than it was southerly. Everything was completely covered in snow, which had even blanketed the valley. Here and there, little villages could be seen dotting the landscape. There were no really large cities in this area of Switzerland. The majority of them lay in the northern, German speaking cantons. Here, however, the defining linguistic characteristic of Switzerland was highlighted by the announcements on the train. Initially they had been in French but now they were being repeated in other languages as well. Soon after, French became the second language to be used following Italian and then a bit later it was not used at all. It was almost like they had already crossed into another country even though they still had many miles to go before they would reach the Italian border.

  The train sped on, occasionally giving a gentle clicking from its wheels but otherwise its tempo was as unchanged as Amy’s demeanour. She was sitting with her back toward the front of the train, the scenery outside the window slipping away into the distance. It was beginning to get dark. Martay had gotten lunch for them all but Amy had left hers untouched. It wasn’t until they had begun to climb gently into the Southern Alps that something unavoidable forced Amy to actually move from her seat. She stood up to go to the toilet and left without a word. As she returned, Martay noted that they must be getting close to the border.

  Amy turned in order to take her seat again. Then many things happened all at once, suddenly and unexpectedly.

  The lights in the train died and they were dropped into utter blackness. This made the simultaneous noise all the more noticeable. There was a blend of screaming brakes from the train mingled with the screams of actual people because of the fright from the sudden stop and the darkness. Luggage could be heard falling from its racks with loud thuds as the train rapidly decelerated and ground to a halt. Martay and Snipping were able to brace themselves in their seats but Amy who was still standing awkwardly and off balance was thrown backwards where her head hit the hard baggage railing. She didn’t hear the brakes or the people, she didn’t feel the floor as she crumpled onto it. She couldn’t feel anything, hear anything or see anything. She had been knocked out cold.

  It took Martay a little time to gather his bearings and search for Amy in the darkness. She had not responded when he had called out and his heart pounded with fear. He scrambled around briefly until he felt her in the corner of the floor. Fearing the worst, he fumbled in the dark until he felt her neck and checked for a pulse. Relief spread over him like the warmth of a fire. Faint but unmistakable, he could feel the gentle beat of her heart. He picked her up and shouted at Snipping to grab their back packs as quickly as he could. He didn’t need Snipping to exclaim that this was no coincidence. They needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. The only question was, how? They were stuck in the middle of no-where in the freezing cold Alps in winter. Snipping led the way to the train’s doors and they stepped into the utterly hopeless night and the bitter cold with Amy hanging limply in Martay's arms. Whichever way they looked at it, the situation was now dire.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  There was no sight or sound of Arnorial’s approach but as a breeze picked up, Eva caught the faint scent of wild flowers and pine needles mixed together that she had come to associate with the elf. She looked up just in time to see him enter their little camp, which was really nothing more than two coats laid beside the coals of a dead fire. He looking thoughtful but concerned. Samuka followed Eva’s look then jumped up to greet the him.

  “You are back! We were starting to worry. What news?”

  “Very little and I would call it neither good nor bad. So far as can be seen, the slaves are worked mercilessly but not killed needlessly. Initially it seems they are taken into the citadel, which I am afraid to say is impregnable for the three of us alone.”

  The faces of the two humans dropped in dismay at the prospect of having pursued the enemy fruitlessly such a long way.

  “Surely there must be something we can do?” Samuka queried. “Perhaps we could find some way to sneak in and rally the slaves?” If enough of them were freed, then with numbers we could…”

  Arnorial held up his hand to cut Samuka short.

  “Numbers would just make the massacre bigger. Even if the slaves could be armed, the minotaurs still appear to outnumber the slaves themselves and are well supplied, whereas the slaves are weak and underfed. Besides, I fear there may be forces within the citadel that we do not yet understand. That alone makes them incredibly dangerous.”

  Samuka opened his mouth as if to argue but Arnorial did not let him.

  “No. Your courage and determination does you credit young Samuka but the citadel is not, at present, an option for us.”

  Samuka’s shoulders sagged and he hung his head. Eva on the other hand had been paying more careful attention to Arnorial’s words.

  “What did you mean by ‘initially being taken to the citadel’?”

  Arnorial smiled warmly at her and she tried, unsuccessfully, not to blush.

  “A very perceptive question. Whatever it is that happens in the Citadel, it seems that not many slaves are needed there. The majority are being driven up into the mountains where I predict they are being used to mine iron.”

  Samuka’s head snapped up with hope, and there was fire in his eyes.

  “If we are careful,” Arnorial continued, “and plan ahead, I believe we could free many of the slaves from the mines. Hopefully they will be able to provide us with more information about what is going on in the citadel itself. After all, the freedom of a few is a very small part of the bigger picture here. Minotaurs do not take slaves. At least, not historically. The whole situation is indicative of a much deeper plan in motion, and that should be our ultimate concern.”

  “You are right,” Samuka replied. “Something nefarious is happening and I would swear that snake of a bureaucrat, Vencel, is involved somehow. Nevertheless, the task at hand is the task worth worrying about. So, what is your idea for freeing the slaves?”

  The discussion carried on for well over an hour as the companions argued geography, weather conditions, long term food provisions and rationing for numbers. They also needed to consider shelter, logistics for return to the kingdom and security of information about their plans once people started being sent home. The matter became far more complex than was to be expected.

  Eventually they departed, heading north east, well above the citadel, towards the mountains. Much to Samuka’s frustration, there was a lot that would need to be done before they could actually attempt to free the slaves. Nevertheless, he felt better once they were moving. At least it was taking some kind of action. Eva was also glad to be underway. She had felt shamefully distracted during their planning. Her desire to help her people had been marred by the distraction of Arnorial’s presence. She had been relatively young when she had trained under him but now she saw him in a very different light. He looked no older than the strapping human men in their mid-twenties back home, but with flawless features. He also had an aura of great power and authority, and every movement he made was both purposeful and graceful. She wondered how old he truly was?

  Arnorial, meanwhile, had a mind full of dark foreboding. He had tried to use both magic and dreamwalking to see inside the citadel but both attempts were unsuccessful. He was certain Gorhoth had returned but was shocked by the power he must have regained to seal such a large area and, not least
of all, how far his manipulation had already spread.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Sounds slowly started to filter into Eva’s brain from her ears as she awoke. The voices were somewhat muffled but she managed to make sense of most of them. The first voice was fairly deep, gruff and impatient, unmistakably Samuka’s.

  “What are we waiting for now? We know where they are held, we know the guard rotation. We are letting them suffer.”

  The responding voice was higher pitched but far smoother and richer. Its tone was almost lyrical and the sound alone caused a strange feeling to rise up in Eva’s stomach, like something wrestless was moving around inside. Only an elf could have a voice like that.

  “We have already discussed this. Racing in to free the slaves will hurt them and not help them if we are unsuccessful. We must first organize shelter and food for them to escape to, otherwise we might as well kill them ourselves.”

  Eva’s eyes snapped open, finally wide awake. She had been eager to take action since they spied out the enemy mines, but was not so impatient as Samuka. Since their days together as rangers he had become involved in governance and politics, a slow world where a lot of time was required to achieve limited action. The experience had only enhanced his distaste for delays. Eva on the other hand had mostly found official work as an assassin, hunting down and eliminating elusive criminals. This had taught her to be very cautious and calculating, so she understood Arnorial’s restraint. Still, here was something she could do immediately.

  “I can hunt food while you and Samuka arrange shelter.”

  The man and the elf looked around at her sudden interjection.

  “Ah, Eva, I hope our debate didn’t wake you.” Samuka proffered.

  His formality with her had always been a bit confusing. She knew it had nothing to do with respect. He respected Arnorial but wasn’t so proper when speaking to him. Maybe, probably in fact, it had more to do with her being a woman. This triggered another thought. How did that make her feel?

  All this flashed through her mind in a split second.

  “No, I really wasn’t all too tired. I’ve been itching to do something useful, so I’ll go hunt for food. You and Arnorial can work on the shelter.”

  Was that another smile Arnorial had shot in her direction? It happened so quickly she couldn’t be sure. His face was stoic again.

  By contrast, Samuka’s face appeared deeply frustrated but he gave in. If Eva was going to fall in with Arnorial’s plan then he was outnumbered and it wasn’t as if he was her superior anymore. Far from it.

  “Very well then, be sure to return by nightfall though, otherwise we shall look for you,” he said. “No, not because I think you are incapable!”

  Samuka had cut across her before she could even open her mouth.

  “It is simply because we are so close to an enemy’s territory. I would do the same for Arnorial.”

  Placated, Eva gave him a little nod of acceptance. The reasoning was fair.

  She quietly gathered her things and strung her bow. Once strung, it hooked neatly onto the quiver on her back, which she had personally designed to be the central mounting point for triangular bags on either side. The result looked like a regularly shaped travel bag but with a quiver cutting diagonally across it. A hunting knife sat visibly on her belt. What wasn’t visible was a plethora of other metal devices concealed in her clothes. When she had last left her home in the capital she had been on a mission, and an unprepared assassin quickly became a dead assassin if plans went awry. Most of the concealed weapons would be of little use hunting animals but she would never leave them behind. They had saved her life so many times that their mere presence was a comfort.

  As she was leaving their camp she looked back at her companions. It was hard to believe how long they had now been travelling together but the journey had been so urgent that time seemed distorted. In truth, she was starting to know both of them intimately and, bickering though they were, yet again, she felt the warmth of affection for them spreading through her as she turned to start the hunt. Samuka was a good and noble man, and Arnorial was so… alluring.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Chapter 12

  Amy felt bitterly cold. Her nose hairs were freezing, her legs felt like they had turned solid with needles inside them and her hands throbbed with aching pain. How could she have been so stupid? She was in the Himalayas with nothing but thermals, jeans and a pullover. It was small wonder she was freezing. The temperature must have been well and truly under zero and the wind was drilling every negative degree into her flesh. She folded her arms tightly around herself in an attempt to stay warm. It didn’t help.

  She struggled hard to remember why she had come here. Something about the place created a nagging sensation in the back of her mind but she couldn’t clear her thoughts enough to remember what it was. She doubted anything too important could have been here. The town was tiny and quaint, made up of a number of little shacks, mostly with shambled wooden roofs but each with little streams of smoke puffing out here and there. They were telltale signs of fires inside. The mountains around the little village sprouted abruptly upwards on all sides. The village was perched on the side of a mountain that was by far the highest, towering above all the others, its peak utterly obscured by the darkness itself in the evening twilight.

  Everything, not just mountains but the entire village and the roofs of the little shacks, was covered in a deep, impenetrable blanket of snow. If it wasn’t for the very real danger of hypothermia Amy might have found the location exceedingly pretty. As it was, she was focused on making her way down the little road or path between the shacks with her head bowed.

  Every step that she took her feet sank a reasonable distance into the snow, which started to fill her shoes. Where was it? She knew she was looking for something but she couldn’t see it anywhere. She had nearly reached the end of the shacks when, to her surprise and rising sense of misgiving, she noticed a tall hooded figure striding towards her. It wasn’t the heavy winter cloak that made her uneasy. Something about the stranger was unusual. He made for too little imprint in deep snow. In fact, the stranger seemed to be striding along the snow’s surface as if it was concrete, leaving no trace of his steps. That wasn’t right at all. Yet Amy didn’t alter her course. She felt she was going the right way even if the stranger did make her a little uneasy. As they drew nearer however, it became clear that the stranger was not simply making their way to the village, they were very definitely approaching Amy, and had shifted their course to block her path.

  Amy stopped dead. She wasn’t sure whether she should turn and run, keep walking or wait for the stranger to reach her. She was tempted to run but somehow, she felt the stranger would be much faster, especially since they seemed to be completely unhindered by the conditions. As such she simply stayed where she was and waited, shivering violently in the cold. Walking had at least warmed her a little. As the figure drew closer Amy suddenly felt a rush of familiarity. She knew him! She may even have been expecting him! He came to a stop in front of her.

  “Amriel we have little time.”

  The Arbiter’s voice carried a strong, underlying tone of concern. Amy couldn’t remember that he was an Arbiter, she was too deeply stuck in a human dream state but she knew he was a friend and her heart rose at the comforting sound of his voice.

  “You need to tell me where the car is parked! It is urgent, otherwise you will freeze!”

  Amy couldn’t help but agree, which made her all the more confused as to why she hadn’t remembered before. The car was back behind the last shack on the northern side of the path.

  They hurried back up the path together and arched around the last little building on their right. There, buried under a small mound of snow was her range rover. She fumbled with numb fingers in her pockets until, with exaltation, she found the key and the indicator lights flashed to show the car had been unlocked.

  The two of them clambered in without hesitation and Amy jabbed the start button fir
mly. The car was cold and struggled for a moment before turning over. She had left the fan on full blast and the cold air exploded onto her legs. Amy hurriedly turned the fan to a minimum until the engine started to warm up and heat the air. She was still shivering in the cold leather seat and rubbed her hands together furiously, trying to breath bursts of hot air into them without much success. The Arbiter sat utterly motionless and unperturbed in the passenger seat. Amy was too busy trying to warm up to realise just how comical her friend looked in his medieval style travelling coat, sitting in an ultra modern car.

  Soon the heater was running at full capacity and the warmth started to wash away the numbness in Amy’s limbs. The Arbiter had waited in patient silence but was actually in a great hurry. He knew the stakes were high.

  “You have had a very long day Amriel and been in the cold for a long time. Try and get some sleep, leave the car running and relax for a while, it is very important to get some rest.”

  Amy didn’t really understand why it was important but at the same time she had started to feel so relaxed in her heated seat that the idea of sleep seemed very inviting indeed and she lay her head back against and shut her eyes.

  The Arbiter didn’t have time to explain to Amy what had happened and doing so may have backfired. While she was trapped in a human dream state she was vulnerable, but also powerful. Right now, she needed to help her friends.

  He watched her start to doze and hoped desperately that she would be able to return to herself. In her head however, this was not at all easy. As much as she wanted to sleep, it was being very elusive. She could feel herself hovering on the edge of dreams but all the while she was still conscious of the car’s sounds around her.

  Before too long her mind did start to slip in and out of hazy dreams and she noticed that she kept returning to the exact same one.

  Amy could only see blearily but realised that she was being carried. The dark night sky was above her. It was cold. Exceedingly cold! She didn’t understand that. The car was right there, she had the key in her pocket. It was pulled over behind the shack. Why didn’t they just go to the car? She tried to speak but barely a noise escaped her lips. Instead she let out a very weak moan. This was crazy, the car was right there! She tried to point to the shack but her arm felt like lead. She fought and struggled with her own muscles and slowly, painfully, she managed to raise an arm. Doing so cost her an enormous amount of energy. She could hear the voice of her carrier break out in rapid, excited tones. Then her mind drifted away, her energy spent. Everything went black and she could hear the hum of the engine and the rushing air coming from the heater.