Bridge Between the Worlds

by R. B. L. Gillmore

  He wasn’t overly willing to let someone like this take the phone. The man was likely out of his mind but then again it was a cheap phone and he hoped that the gesture would actually make the man uncomfortable, since he clearly wasn’t meant to be there.

  It was immediately apparent, however, that the man had never even seen a mobile phone before and the look on his face as he stared at it was almost comical. After a while he simply turned and walked away without another word, exactly as Martay hoped he would.

  Amy waited until the man was completely out of sight before rushing over to Martay at the door and hastily getting inside. Their first action was to look for Snipping, who they found sitting nervously in the laundry room.

  “That’s the third time today this ‘as ‘appened” he said. “Gorhoth is clearly usin’ these people. I can’t think of another explanation but I don’t know ‘ow he could be doing it either. No doubt ‘e’s searchin’ for the dreamwalker that ‘as caused all the strange changes lately. Clearly ‘e knows more than we imagined but ‘e must be strugglin’ to pinpoint where ya are because this ‘as ‘appened to nearly all o’ the houses on this street. ‘e got the name Szekeres from people at another ‘ouse.”

  Snipping was clearly very worried and he didn’t seem sure of what to do.

  “How can he possibly have tracked us down to here?” Amy asked. Snipping frowned sullenly. He was thinking hard but they could see the apparent displeasure he felt about the conclusion he was forming.

  “No one in Otthon knows you exist. Gorhoth must believe it’s ya mother who is dreamwalking. That’s ‘ow ’e’s found ya, by followin’ the ripples of ya dream creations to their source. No simple task but one that e’s certainly capable of. Whenever ya dreamwalk it leaves an identifiable mark on the dream plane, a mark which Gorhoth would be able to recognise. Now it seems ‘e’s manipulatin’ people in their dreams to try and ‘unt you down in the physical world.

  This is worryin’ but I don’t understand why ‘e wouldn’t just search for ya in the dream plane itself. It would be easier and potentially more beneficial to ‘im.”

  Amy shuddered and Martay spoke up.

  “But… if he is searching for Amy’s parents and following Amy’s dreams to find them, doesn’t that mean they are safe for the moment? I mean, so long as they didn’t come back soon, the enemy wouldn’t be able to find them, yes?”

  “Yep,” snipping answered, “’er dreamwalkin’ is leadin’ Gorhoth ‘ere but ‘e cannot be certain who the dreamwalker actually is. It’s safe to assume that ‘e will assume it’s Amy’s mother. Amy ‘as been lucky perhaps because Gorhoth ‘as not recognised ‘er. He’d recognize ‘er instantly.”

  Silence filled the room as they all considered this ominous thought. Amy was the first to stir.

  “If that’s true, then I need to leave. If I don’t, he’ll find my parents when they get back and then he’ll work out who I am as well. Think about it. He’s after the dreamwalker and thinks that mum is the only one left. If I run, it will be harder for him to discover me. Not to mention, my parents will be safer because I’ll lead him away from them when I dreamwalk.”

  Martay interjected.

  “That suggests that your dreams have some kind of… hmmm…” he searched for the English word, “correspondence with physical space.”

  Snipping chipped in again with seeming reluctance.

  “In a complicated way, I’m afraid they do. So long as the person tryin’ to find ‘er is connected to the dreamplane, kind o’ like actively day dreamin’, their dream self will direct their physical being towards Amy. It’s difficult to explain but Amy’s right. If she runs… she’ll draw the enemy away. Nevertheless, I don’t agree with runnin’ just yet. A physical threat can be repelled by physical means which should be easy given Gorhoth can’t know much about the rules governing Earth. I think it’d be best to try and contact Amy’s parents before we do anythin’.”

  That was a brilliant idea and Amy couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought to try and call them sooner. She grappled hastily for her phone and hit the quick dial for her father.

  Silence.

  “The number you have called is not connected. Please check the number and try again.”

  “You have got to be joking! They’re out of reception range?”

  Amy tried hard not to panic.

  “We can try ‘em again later” Snipping said. “Now let’s try and think about ‘ow we’re going to ‘andle the evenin’ and tomorrow.”

  Martay and Snipping took over the conversation from here as they started to argue over what the best steps to take would be. Amy got lost in thought, not paying much attention to the conversation. Something in the back of her mind was distracting her anyway. She felt as if she was about to remember something, something right there but just out of reach. Her mind felt hazy. Her thoughts were all mixed up.

  “Amy.”

  The voice was distant, like the last ringing of a remote echo. It was persistent though, repeating itself so that she had to try and block it out of her mind, like swatting away a fly. As she slipped further out of consciousness however, the voice gained strength, until finally it broke through clearly and controlled her mind’s attention.

  “Amy! You need to focus.”

  It was the Arbiter. That was about the only thing that was clear. Amy hadn’t fully entered the dream plane, she was hovering somewhere inbetween the worlds.

  “Amy, you and your parents are in danger. You need to act! You need to move!”

  “Parents… in danger?” She asked blearily.

  “Yes. They sought…” Amy missed pieces of what the Arbiter was saying as she slipped in and out of her dream, “in the mountains. They wanted to warn you but… managed to find them… needed to run. They can’t make contact… not safe... RUN!”

  The last word had come through powerfully and with it, Amy woke up in the real world fully. She cut straight across Martay and Snipping whose debate had managed to get heated. It dissipated immediately when she spoke.

  “I need to leave. Right now!”

  There are moments in people’s lives when the direness of a situation lends them an extremely heightened ability to convey emotion. This was one of them for Amy. The earnestness and determination in her voice was so complete that Martay and Snipping immediately stood up and started to hunt down items they would likely need to get going. To where, they did not know, but they gave absolutely no thought to questioning Amy.

  As soon as Martay had found most of the essentials he started heading for the door. Amy had to run down the hallway to catch him. Was he going to just leave without saying goodbye to her?

  “Where are you going? I haven’t even had a chance to say goodbye!”

  “Goodbye? I’m running back home to pack my own bag. You want to leave as soon as possible yes? I thought I’d better not waste time here while you finished packing before getting my own things.”

  “What?”

  Realisation dawned on Martay. He realised he should have seen this coming. Amy had planned to go alone.

  She still didn’t quite comprehend what Martay was saying but she also didn’t want to drag him with her when she knew that she would be drawing danger along behind her.

  “Martay you can stay and look after the place until my parents get back. I’ll stay in touch. It’s not like this guy can track us down when we talk on the phone.”

  Snipping had joined them by this point and after this comment he suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead.

  “Martay showed the man ‘is mobile phone. ‘e suggested that the man could simply call the person ‘e was lookin’ for! It won’t take long for Gorhoth to work out what the phone system is and ‘ow it can be used. It might take some time but when ‘e discovers what a powerful tracking tool it is ‘e’ll surely use it to ‘is advantage. Whatever ya do Amy, don’t use your phone unless you absolutely ‘ave to. The next day or two should be safe but after that it’s not worth the risk.”

&
nbsp; Amy started to feel panicked but Martay rolled his eyes.

  “Amy of course I’m coming with you! Whatever is wrong, you can’t just run away alone.”

  “’e’s absolutely right. The three of us’ll need to go together. It’s safer than riskin’ any of us gettin’ caught out alone with the information we all ‘ave.”

  Amy took a moment to accept what her friends were doing. She had wanted to stop them but she was thoroughly relieved that she wouldn’t have to go alone. She caved in. She flung her arms around Martay and pulled him into a tight embrace.

  “Thank you.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Arnorial had been a watchful sentinel for the past three hours, concealed amongst the branches. He peered down into the valley that housed a relatively small human town.

  His reconnaissance so far had revealed that the attacks always seemed to happen in towns furthest from Lord Samuka’s main forces. It had been disturbingly easy for him to discover where this force would be tonight and had chosen his watch post accordingly.

  It was a long way north from the border. Any enemy would need to cross a fair portion of human land to get there. In theory this should have made it safer. Unfortunately, theories can be wrong.

  The dark of night had settled but the bright moon was veritable sunlight to Arnorial. He saw, quite plainly, the two figures on foot appear from a thicket to the side of the main north road and proceed cautiously into town.

  His curiosity was only minorly peaked. He had seen many human scouts moving about off the roads.

  Some ten minutes had passed since their arrival and Arnorial contemplated entering the town to see what information of use these scouts may have.

  Then he saw them. The dark figures swept through the valley to the south and began to encircle the town. Arnorial had moved as soon as he had spotted them but he had a substantial distance to cover. The figures were moving exceptionally fast.

  A child’s scream filled the air, shattering the peace of the little valley, and it was soon joined by others.

  Typically, minotaurs were ruthless but disorganized. This raiding party represented a disturbing divergence from the norm. They were not wantonly killing. They were capturing. The men of the town stood little more chance than the women. As Arnorial sped towards the edge of the village he saw a guard hacked down as he attempted feebly to fight the massive foes. When Arnorial reached the line of black figures however, he was like a lightning bolt shattering through a tree. His sword flared with vengeful fire that cut through metal armor as if it was butter. Several of the minotars fell in the first few seconds of the onslaught before others seemed to realise the extent of the danger which had arrived.

  A captain bellowed orders and half the raiding party swept out of town with what captives they had. The other half tried to form a tight ring around the elf. Fast and strong as he might be, fighting all the beasts at once would give no guarantee of survival. He stood at guard watching the approaching ring carefully. A fallen enemy near his foot groaned and tried to move. A second later its head was no longer attached to its body.

  Arnorial raised his free hand and a wall of fire engulfed the minotaurs. It evaporated quickly, as if it had been trapped in a vacuum, and his enemies were unharmed.

  “So… A magic wielder.” Arnorial thought. “No time for that. The prisoners are being marched off.”

  He closed his eyes as tightly as he could and held his breath. No matter how many times he did it, he hated the sensation. The ground beneath him shifted violently and soon he was tumbling into the earth. He felt it jostle and push him about, driving him against soil that immediately gave way. When he resurfaced he was closer to the middle of the town but heard fighting very close at hand. He wrapped himself in a shroud that could only be felt.

  It was as if light bent around him so that he simply disappeared. Up close, however, someone may have seen the distortion.

  He followed the sounds of clashing metal. Further off, he could hear more shouting, signaling the search that was going on. His priorities were clear. The prisoners were at least going to be kept alive whilst on the move. Save the fighters first, get them to safety, then start hunting.

  The door to the village pub had been smashed apart and Arnorial entered deftly. To his surprise, he discovered that it was the two scouts from earlier that were still alive and putting up a very successful fight against not one, but two minotaur soldiers. A third already lay dead. They ducked and darted, using the weight and slowness of the minotaurs’ axes to their advantage. After dodging a heavy swing, they would place a rapid blow. The minotaurs had several light wounds that individually were no problem. Cumulatively, the injuries were causing them to flag.

  Impressive though the fighters were, Arnorial had no time to waste. He thrust his sword heavily through the head of one enemy, pulled back, twirled, and stabbed the other clean through its heart.

  The scouts halted where they were, weapons still raised, their faces in disbelief.

  “Follow me.” Arnorial ordered, having reappeared before he had attacked.

  Perhaps more surprising than their martial ability was the fact that one of the fighters was a woman. This was no strange thing amongst the elves but the humans were, in Arnorial’s opinion, somewhat behind the times and rarely allowed women into their armed forces. Nevertheless, here was one, and she nodded meaningfully to the other scout. The two of them fell into step behind the elf.

  Once they were outside Arnorial took a moment to listen carefully before proceeding south. Out of nowhere, mist formed and twisted through the surroundings. They weren’t seen as Arnorial led the way out of town, staying as close as he could to the tracks of the disappearing prisoners.

  He could not truly set after them just yet. The safety of these scouts needed to be considered.

  A few minutes quick march took them a reasonably safe distance away and Arnorial turned to his followers.

  “You are certainly capable fighters. If I leave you from here, will you be able to make it to the next town without being detected and warn them of the raiders?”

  “Yes of course but… who are you?”

  Arnorial had never removed his hood and in the night, it completely darkened his face.

  “A friend. And now I must follow the prisoners that were taken. Quite apart from seeing to their freedom I also believe they will lead me where I need to go.”

  “Then we will come with you! It is my duty to protect my people” said the man firmly.

  “Your people?” Arnorial queried.

  “You are clearly a foreigner here, stranger. I am Lord Samuka. This village and all of the Southern lands are my charge. Any man who aids us in battle against such demons and speaks of rescuing the prisoners taken I will count as a friend but can you not tell us more openly who you are? A wizard perhaps? And what duty compels you to fight for my people?”

  “Lord Samuka…” Arnorial said quietly, as if to himself.

  “Well, well. I always expected good things of you and I am glad of your success. Very well. Follow me as fast as you can. We shall hunt together again, though this time, it will not be training but a matter of life and death for many.”

  “Hunt together again…Who…” Samuka began to ask.

  “I am Arnorial. I’m sure you remember the name. Now let us make haste while there is still hope.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Vencel was internally screaming with fury as the scout delivered its report, which was to say, nothing out of the ordinary. All appeared orderly at Holly pass.

  Quietly, the scout was annoyed at having been sent on what seemed like a totally pointless job. Meanwhile, the only giveaway of Vencel’s fustratrion was the wrapping of his fingernails on the hard wood desk and a very small twitch in his cheek. He had made a mistake.

  He waved the scout out of his office nonchalantly while his brain hastily sifted through his options. The Duke certainly distrusted Samuka. Over a year of very subtle work had ensured that. Yet if Samuka go
t to his people in the south and raised dissent, the word of the ordered assassination would spread like wild fire.

  How long would it take the man and that wretched ranger to reach the Southernlands where people would listen to them? Three days? A week on foot perhaps? The timing would be close but… yes… just maybe it would work. The next raid was planned for the end of the week. If he acted quickly he could fabricate a report that Samuka had been seen near the town before the attack. If he could convince the Duke that it was evidence of Samuka’s collusion with the enemy… Vencel began to grin hideously.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Chapter 8

  Demeron gazed into the void before him as if his attention was focused on something inside, even though the space was empty. It was something like a ball, half a meter in diameter, floating unsupported with absolute stillness above a flat topped alter that was carved with red-highlighted runes. The room was unlit but the black ball was so entirely devoid of substance that its outline was clearly distinguishable as a deeper black against the darkness. The darkness did not perturb Demeron in the slightest. In fact, to an onlooker he would have seemed completely uninterested in his incredible surroundings.

  The room, if it could even be called a room, was perfectly circular. It was about five meters across and had no visible ceiling. The space upwards continued without end into yet more emptiness. It was as if the room formed the bottom of an unfathomably deep and perfectly straight well. However, the most remarkable thing about it was not to roof’s height. Aside from the strange orb of emptiness and the shaft above it, there was the bizarre wall.

  At first glance it appeared to be solid but if one looked closer they would notice that it seemed to twist and writhe slowly. It was definitely made of hard, polished black stone, but it was as if the stone had the properties of dense smoke and the smoke had been disturbed. In an eerie way, it was as if the wall was alive.