by Sanders, Dan
The door burst open and one of the men appeared. “What’s going on here? Stop that racket. Your new master will be here any time…”
The man stepped up to the bars and onto the thin layer of crust over Bevan’s quicksand.
“What the…” The man plunged into the floor and quickly sank up to his neck. He gurgled on the wet mud splashing into his mouth.
“You will turn off the crystal bars and release us,” Daimon said, “else he will seal you in the rock, hidden for eternity.”
“Never,” the man gurgled. “Your doom will be here. The Melder is with my master now. He will find me soon enough.”
Bevan could tell the man was Thoughtshouting to his captors. Bevan spoke to the rock. The quicksand began to solidify, crushing the trapped man. He groaned as his mouth began to fill with drying sand.
“Release me and I will help you,” he mumbled.
“Disable the crystal now,” Daimon demanded. Without thinking, Daimon touched the glowing bars with his new right arm. He was not harmed. Both Daimon and the sinking man were surprised.
Sabina drew next to Daimon and said to him, “Your new arm absorbs the crystal power. If he switches them off, you can break them.”
Bevan let the quicksand become harder, crushing its occupant. The man squealed in his native tongue words they didn’t understand. The purple light suddenly vanished from the room, pitching them in complete darkness.
Bevan’s head throbbed. The dank smell of the cave burnt his nose. He placed his hands on the rugged floor and refocussed his mind into the rock. He needed light, and the rock could provide that light. He apologised to the rocks for this new intrusion of their ancient slumber. They heeded his call. He warmed the rock floor until it glowed, slowly illuminating and heating the damp swamp room. Yellow shadows like extra prisoners filled the room.
Daimon punched the bars with his stone fist, smashing the crystal bars into shards that now pointed between the ceiling and the floor.
“Careful when you come through the bars. They’re sharp,” he said. Daimon grabbed the sunken man and pulled him half-way out of his hardening grave. He reached down to the man’s waist and yanked back his CBlade. He held the dull blue crystal up to the yellow light before slamming the side of his blade onto the side of the sunken man’s head.
“I told you I’d get it back,” he said with satisfaction.
Ketty sat in the corner, ashamed. Sabina spoke firmly to Bevan. ”Do you intend on leaving your nanny here?”
“She deserves no less. She tried to kill me and betrayed our kingdom.”
“Don’t add one sorrow to another,” she said.
Sabina lifted Ketty from the floor and led her through the bars. Bevan was confused.
“We must go now,” Bevan said. “I feel the energy from the Melder.” He was surprised at this new feeling.
They ran up through the dark stone stairs and into the light.
What Bevan saw took his breath away. The town was black and ashen. The afternoon sun cast shadows on the bodies of men, women and children who lay in positions of torment, charred beyond recognition. Animals who roamed freely had been frozen and charred in mid-step, some caught in the act of drinking the now blood-filled puddles. He felt the land suffering. He doubled over as his body ached. He was being drained by the land. It was drawing his power. It wasn’t meant to be this way. The land sustained the people. Bevan’s fear was quickly replaced with anger and a protective instinct for his fellow-travellers. He turned to cover Sabina’s face but they had already rounded the corner and stood with their mouths open and eyes agape in horror.
As if in recognition of his look Sabina said, “This is Torek’s evil, the same as Alendi. The darkness is spreading fast.”
“What…?” he asked.
“We must go else we’ll end up like them,” Daimon interrupted.
They crept along the walls of the buildings in the shadows. As they reached the last building in the town centre, Bevan saw the captor with the pointy beard leading two hooded men in their direction. They had not yet seen them.
“This way,” Bevan whispered. His breathing was laboured and his boots were heavier with each step.
They ran behind the building and into the surrounding bushland. They crept along the outskirts of the town. Suddenly the earth beneath them rumbled, nearly throwing them to the ground.
“They know,” Bevan said.
“You think,” Daimon said sarcastically.
“We must get back to the carriage before they get us. My blade is there. I can feel it.”
They bolted back towards the Mithran colony at the entry to the Korak township. The main entry into the town was full of guards on alert. Bevan knew of a lesser known entry. Sabina and Ketty limped after him. He tried not to show his annoyance at their slowing him down, but Sabina was quick to show her matched annoyance at his lack of understanding. He tried to pick her up but she slapped his hand away.
“When I get my hands on Zenon…” Bevan said. “I never liked him. I told my father–“
“Shut up,” Sabina rasped. “You’ll drag attention to us.”
They found the second entrance into the town and as he suspected his flying carriage was hidden under a large covering of plants. Bevan saw his Reven blade lying against the carriage. He realised this was where they had removed his blade from his back. They wouldn’t have known, he chuckled to himself, that once it left his back it would be impossible for a normal being to move the Reven crafted sky-stone. Bevan spoke to his blade. It hummed as he picked it up. It felt good and he felt stronger. The air buzzed as Bevan swung the blade in powerful strokes.
Sabina and Ketty finally caught up and boarded. Daimon jumped into the driver’s seat. Bevan spoke to the Largon. It came to life, hummed and hovered just above the ground.
“Go, now, Daimon,” Bevan yelled.
Daimon pulled back on the T-Bar controls. The Largon crept up into the evening grey sky. Bevan realised the land had drained the Power-Planks. They would never escape at this speed.
They finally found cover in a collection of lower clouds. From the back of the carriage Sabina suddenly squealed and grabbed her head. “The Melder is penetrating my mind. It hurts.”
Bevan Thoughtspoke her, “Try to build a fortress. I will help you build your mind’s wall.”
Bevan swung into the back of the flying carriage. He placed his hands on Sabina’s head, his thumbs on her cheeks, and helped her construct a barrier to her mind, in the manner of the Reven Lore. Her waterfall mixed with his Rock Lore. Bevan staggered when he felt the immense mind power from the Melder closing in on her mind. Together they barely managed to keep him out.
From the front of the carriage Daimon yelled, “They are here. No…”
Bevan reached the front as a gust of wind slammed against the carriage. It flipped the Largon over in mid-air. Daimon hung from the T-Bar control. Bevan, Sabina and Ketty landed on the interior ceiling of the wagon. Bevan’s stomach churned. He was gripped by fear for the boy.
Before Bevan could stand inside the upturned wagon, Daimon screamed as his grip failed him. He fell into the grey sky. A black cloud tinged with green, as fast as a gale, collected Daimon like a falling leaf. Bevan scrambled forward and heaved the carriage upright. Sabina and Ketty fell back to the floor. Bevan looked in agony as the cloud sped away with Daimon. The damn Largon, as slow as a horse-drawn cart in the sky, had no hope of keeping up. He tried to Thoughtspeak Daimon. Nothing. His knuckles went white as his large hands gripped the T-Bar controls. From high in the clouds he saw the darkened scar of Gorgos spreading across the land. He saw the line where the lush green valleys ended, and the shrinking boundary between the beauty and the dead. He had failed again.
Chapter 36
Storven
STORVEN STRONGHOLD,
ANNWYN
Arun the Fistur, the giant eagle, pumped his wings, his golden beak cutting through the serene clouds of the southern Annwynian skies. Lupi sat with her legs c
rossed on the edge of the gold woven basket. She gazed at the green and gold valleys below. Rupurt sat with his paw on Emily while she slept. The blue shadow of their new companion blocked the sun as he stood on the back of the eagle. His hands hung at his sides, the wind rushed about him to no effect. His stony face revealed nothing about how he felt to be racing across the skies with an Agramond and two rabbits.
Emily disturbed the windy peace when she sat bolt upright gasping for air. She grabbed for her ears and hopped in circles.
“I’m alive, a rabbit, and alive,” she cried.
“Of course you are, Emily,” Rupurt said. “You should rest.”
“I was on Earth… At least I think I was… Or was it a dream?”
Lupi hopped into the basket and said to Emily, “You have been through the Ulon, the dream-test.”
“The what?” Emily said, rubbing her nose.
“The Ulon. It’s an Agramond speciality. We have the ability to catch dreams and intervene in them, but only in rare circumstances. In this case, I guess the Queen thought it was important.”
Emily was about to answer but her attention was grabbed by the sun glinting dully off Zane’s crystal body.
“You were real,” Emily said to Zane.
The blue being stared impassively ahead.
Lupi answered for Emily. “The Queen said he will accompany us to the end. She was too cryptic for my liking.”
“His name is Zane Siok, of the Bardi,” Emily said, waving away the questions with her paw. She realised something was missing. “Where is Eostra’s Egg?”
Rupurt said, “The Queen said you would know where it is.”
“What?” Emily thought hard for a moment. Her head was still fuzzy from her dream-test. “How would I know where it is? Is he carrying it on him?”
Emily looked over the basket. “I can’t see it,” she said. “It’s very big for an egg.” Emily held her paws wide, about the length of Rupurt’s body. They all snatched another quick look at the naked body unaffected by the wind. They all shook their heads.
“There’s no place to hide something that big on his body. Got me beat,” said Lupi.
“Maybe he ate it?” Rupurt offered sheepishly.
Emily watched the blue and white sky whisk by her basket. She cast her mind back over the dream. It felt so real. She was a bird again. Her family spoke with her. The test was about making a choice. Not for revenge for Aldrick; or being forced to by Eostra, but because she wanted to. She didn’t see why that mattered, but Magas might help her understand the significance. In her dream she wondered how the others were. How was Sabina getting along with Bevan? Had Daimon finally been able to connect with the land? Although the other members of the Circle had only one artefact to collect, finding the Harp of Harmony in the underwater city was a long journey. She was grateful for Bevan’s flying carriage.
The sky changed colour, a signal that they had entered the Jalpari and Faoir region, a dark reminder to Emily of what she had to do next. She shuddered at the thought of the Faoir, and peered over the basket to see if they were following.
“What’s up, great-fluffy-one?” Lupi said, smiling. Emily chuckled. She was glad to see Lupi returning to her old self. She even played her pipes, but this time for her own enjoyment. Emily was learning to enjoy the tones of the pipes without falling under the mesmerising influence. It was as though Lupi had been through her own personal test.
“How are you feeling about your home now?” Emily asked.
Lupi reached back and scratched a wing before answering. “It’s as though I have been set free from some prison, but I keep expecting it to trap me. I keep thinking I should be angry or sad or run away, and reminding myself I don’t need to run any longer. I feel I am grieving for Oni again, but somewhere it’s as though I can live my life without that burden.”
Lupi drew a long breath, and stretched her arms wide. She said, “I am happy, but it will take time for me to stop jumping at ghosts.” She leapt off the eagle and disappeared into the red Jalpari sky.
Emily and Rupurt were left alone with the impenetrable Zane. Emily eventually slept while Rupurt kept silent watch.
The noon sun had passed and Lupi popped back onto the eagle. “Storven is not far.”
Emily nodded and said, “I wonder how Kato is getting on with her Faoir friends and the Storven?”
Lupi said, “Kato should have prepared the way for us. The Storven are the stewards of the Reven. If they approve, you will be granted an audience with the Reven.”
Emily looked at the two moons of Las and Tar filling the burnt-orange sky, and realised the Circle of Six had only two days to get the artefacts to Havendel. She still wasn’t sure where that was, since Havendel wasn’t on any Annwynian maps that she had seen. She wished Aldrick were still here. His presence always made her feel safer. Anger rose at the loss of her friend. She must succeed in her quest. Her dream test had shown just how much she had come to love the land and its people.
“Behold, Storven, the Reven stronghold,” said Lupi suddenly. And to the giant eagle she said, “Arun, take us down in front of the cliff-face entry.”
“That will scare them,” Rupurt said.
“It will get their attention,” Lupi laughed. “We don’t have time to waste. Besides, Kato would have alerted them to our arrival.”
Arun pointed the tip of his great white wing to the ground, almost tipping the two rabbits into the forest below. In diminishing circles the magnificent eagle swept, his rear wing feathers flapping.
As Arun landed, his wings, the size of a small field, pumped gusts of hot air beneath them, and his golden talons crunched into the rock path. Crowds of people scattered into the surrounding bush and rock crevices.
The five visitors stepped into the small enclave of the Storven, built into the face of the Fallshore Ranges. Zane’s arms silently swung at his side as he followed.
They were greeted by a tall man with a spear and copper armband. Polite introductions were made. They had been expected, and were escorted through the maze of tall tunnels and open areas until they reached the chambers of the Governor of Storven. The vine-covered walls of the cavernous chamber boasted perfectly rounded corners, glowing with the warm yellow light of the Rock Lore. The simple furnishings matched the demeanour and dress of the people.
“Welcome, Chosen One, we have been expecting you. My name is Oriani Bap, Governess of Storven, Keepers of the Reven stronghold.”
Emily thought the Governess simple but pretty, wearing a polished stone tiara embroidered with simple lime-green jewels and a large yellow stone in its centre. A soft yellow tunic accentuated her firm tanned frame. Kato calmly stood next to the Governess, her golden circle-stripes glowing in the light of the Rock Lore.
“The honour is mine, Your Majesty,” Emily said, touching her paws across her chest in salute.
“Please, not Majesty. Call me Oriani. We have no need for fancy titles. We are a simple people. I see my role as more of a first-among-equals.”
“Okay. I always seem to get something wrong,” said Emily. “May I introduce Lupita Bothan of the Agramond, and Rupurt of the Adros Rabbits?”
The Governess swept her arm wide and said, “Welcome, friends of Emily. I would also like to introduce my elder daughter, Theni.”
The girl was a clone of her mother, but Emily sensed something different about her. She looked older, her lips bent into a scowl. Her thin fingers fidgeted at a blood-red pendant around her neck and her sharp tawny eyes glanced suspiciously around the room.
“We also have another special guest visiting us, the eminent Professor Aiden Sashiel, of the Jalpari.”
An old man in a royal blue tunic with red and gold symbols hunched forward, leaning on his staff. “Chosen One,” his gravelly voice said.
“I’m sorry about Aldrick,” Emily said. “How did you know the Professor?”
“I was Aldrick’s teacher when he was a bright young student. We were close ever since.” Sashiel changed the subject
and pointed to the entrance to the chamber. Zane stood in the doorway. “You have forgotten an introduction, it seems.”
“Please excuse me,” said Emily. “This is a new companion to our group; Zane Siok, of the Bardi.”
Rupurt added, “He is a silent soldier, of sorts. Here to protect Emily’s interests, of sorts.”
“Well, well. Welcome Zane,” said the Governess. “Won’t you join us?”
Zane remained still at the door, his polished blue body pulsing with the light of the chamber.
“He doesn’t speak much,” Emily said. “He is on a special errand. He is best left where he is. He will follow if he wishes.”
“What a delightful mix,” the Governess continued. “We are glad you came to spend time with us. You are welcome as long as you want.”
Kato’s bass voice interrupted, “Oriani, unfortunately we are on business of the highest importance, and time is a tough master.”
Emily was conscious of her quest, but did not want to be rude to their host. Besides, she found herself relaxing as they spent the rest of the morning exploring Storven village. The Storven people drifted slowly about their catacombs in a peaceful daze, as though time had no grasp of their lives. She particularly loved the intricate stone carvings throughout their rooms and halls; they were even more detailed than those in Ibendari.
Lunch was carefully laid out. The sweet smells of fruits, nuts and vegetables made Emily’s belly growl. She was there to learn more about Gilga’s Kettle. The conversation was long and amiable. Emily recounted her story as a bird on Earth, of meeting Eostra and Magas; of finding the Wellwyn Prophecy and the bestowal of gifts at the Gala dinner. The story brightened Sashiel’s mood. Emily tried to ignore Theni’s stares.
Sensing Emily’s glances, Theni glanced at Zane standing impassively at the door. “Who is that, Mother?”
