Wyrmspire (Realm Keepers Book 2)

by Garrett Robinson

  “Actually, if I’m Calvin, I’m overjoyed.”

  Samuel chuckled. “Even Lord Calvin is not so boring as all that. But back to our example. Finally, you give up. You leave the life of a scribe behind you and become a blacksmith’s apprentice. All day long you pump the bellows. You hammer at iron until your fingers have blistered, broken, and blistered again. You work until your arms are limp noodles hanging uselessly at your sides. You burn your face and arms with sparks from the forge. You set your clothes on fire more than once, leaving scars across your skin.”

  “Still sounds better than being cooped up in a monastery or whatever,” I said.

  Samuel snapped his fingers. “Exactly. You have chosen the labor. Even though, truly, it is much harder than the task of being a scribe, you enjoy it. Because it was your choice. Choice, intention, desire. These are the guiding principles of your life. I desired to be a Runegard. They could not beat that out of me, no matter how many training exercises they put me through. They could not subdue that desire. In my training I was beaten more viciously than my father ever did. I was brought nearly to the point of death over and over again. I starved—something that never happened to me at home.”

  “But you picked it,” I said. “You knew what you were getting into.”

  Samuel nodded. “Just so.”

  “Well, that makes sense,” I said.

  Before we could speak further, Cara called us to the horses once more. With a sigh of resignation, I found my saddle and spurred the mare on to ride with the others.

  More endless miles passed beneath our horses’ hooves as we rode on, the sun now setting more and more quickly to our left. It was a hair’s breadth from the horizon when we came upon the river that Greystone had described. I could see far to the west where it forked, while off to the east it ran on for endless miles before it disappeared from sight at the horizon.

  There was only one problem. I was no expert, but it was way too deep and too wide to cross on horseback.

  “Well, he said to cross it,” I said. “How do we want to do that?”

  “Miles?” said Sarah. “Can you part the water?”

  “I can try,” said Miles, mouth twisting in concern. “I’m just concerned about being able to hold it.”

  “We could find a narrow point,” said Raven. “Some place we can cross it safely on horseback.”

  “No, wait, I’ve got it,” said Sarah. “Stupid of me not to think of it.”

  She raised a hand and closed her eyes in concentration. I felt a rumble in the earth beneath us, transferring up my horse’s trembling legs and through the saddle.

  With a loud splash, a huge path of earth erupted from beneath the river’s surface. It was a good ten feet wide and stretched all the way across, providing the perfect crossing.

  “Awesome!” said Calvin. “Nice call, cuz.”

  “Let’s go,” said Sarah.

  She led the way, Cara following behind and the rest of us bringing up the rear. I took last place right behind Samuel.

  The earth below us was wet and slippery, basically just mud that Sarah had hastily solidified. Water began to pool on the left side of the bridge. By the time we were halfway across, it had built up enough to begin running over the top of the bridge. One of my horse’s hooves slid slightly, causing her to whinny nervously.

  “Hey, Sarah,” I called out. “It’s getting a little slick back here.”

  Sarah nodded, and the bridge rose up another foot from the water’s surface. But then I heard a sploosh below me. I looked down to see a hole spring open in the dirt, and the river’s water began rushing through it.

  “Um, guys?” I said. The ground shuddered beneath us.

  Sarah whirled, her eyes wide, then extended a hand. The hole closed up, water now only dribbling through a drop at a time. But then another hole burst, water pouring forth. And the river to our left had risen again, running over the top of our bridge. Once more, I felt my horse’s hooves slip.

  “It’s not going to hold!” I said with sudden realization. “Get across, now!”

  Two more holes burst in the dam, the water streaming through with the force of a fire hose. Sarah spurred her horse into a brisk trot, speeding up without risking a headlong gallop on uneven footing. Her horse carried her out and on to the grass on the other side.

  “Hurry, my Lord,” said Samuel.

  “I’m right on your butt,” I growled. “You hurry.”

  One by one, the others reached the other side. Sarah had dismounted, and she held her hands out as she patched hole after hole in the bridge beneath me. But they were springing open faster than she could close them. I was only a few yards from the end, but I could feel the earth shifting beneath me. Miles was on his feet, too, trying to push the water back and away from the wall.

  “It’s too much!” he said. “I can’t stop all of it!”

  That was the last thing I heard him say before there was a massive slurrrch, and the bridge slid away to nothing under me. My horse and I screamed as we were pitched into the river waiting beneath us. For several long, terrifying seconds I was buried beneath the water, fighting to find the surface again and get my head above it.

  Then I felt something slam into me, and I had the distinct feeling of rising. Half a breath later, I emerged into open air again. I gasped deeply, sucking the air as far into my lungs as it would go. My horse floated beside me, invisible bands wrapped around its body as they were wrapped around me. But my horse had no idea what was happening, and it was freaking out.

  On the shore I saw Tess with her hands out, her eyes pure white. She had scooped us out of the water, suspending us with Mind.

  I coughed as I fought to get words out. “Put me down, but not the horse yet,” I shouted. “She’s got to calm down or she’ll break a leg.”

  “And not in a good way,” said Calvin.

  “Shut up, Calvin,” said Sarah.

  My boots hit the dirt. On instinct, I patted the pouch on my belt. I felt the runestone within and sighed with relief. I’d been afraid of losing it more than once, not the least of which was when I pitched headfirst into lava. But the leather pouch had stayed clear then, and it had remained with me now.

  My horse was still kicking and whinnying in terror, its hooves a good foot or two off the ground. Raven was standing in front of it, trying to calm it as she held her palms up and murmured soothingly.

  “Here, let me,” I said. I stepped to the horse’s side, where I could get in pretty close with minimal risk of being kicked. I put out a hand and gently brushed her mane, keeping an eye on her flying hooves in case I needed to dive out of the way.

  “Hey, hey, you idiot,” I said quietly. “We’re okay. She saved us, numskull.”

  “Oh, sure, call her names,” said Miles. “That’ll calm her down.”

  I shot him a warning glare. “Don’t listen to him, dummy. He’s even dumber than you are. Just chill out and stop kicking, okay? Come on, stop proving what an idiot you are.”

  The words were just the first thing to come to mind. I knew that all animals cared about was the tone of your voice. That, plus my hand in her mane, the smell of me in her nose, was calming her. We’d ridden together for more than a week since Frith. Spend that long with an animal—any animal—and they begin to get used to you.

  Slowly she stopped fighting. When her hooves were finally still, Tess lowered her gently to the ground.

  “There’s a good, big, fat, smelly idiot,” I said, patting her head. Her eyes were still wide and nervous, but she nickered at my touch.

  “Decent work,” said Raven. Her tone was neutral, but her eyes were impressed. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

  I shrugged. “It’s whateves.”

  “Though I am loathe to stop again, I think it would be wise to give ourselves a minute after that,” said Cara. “My Lady?”

  I glanced at Sarah as she turned away from the others. To my surprise, I found her looking at me in horror, her breathing quick. I felt a sin
king feeling in my stomach as I saw the look in her eyes. She didn’t seem to know how to speak.

  “Well, I should hope so,” I said loudly, hoping it would keep the others’ attention before they noticed Sarah. “There’s something about almost drowning that gets me hungry, and it’s been hours since lunch. Can we build a quick fire to help dry me off?”

  With Sarah’s back turned, Cara hadn’t noticed anything. Her mouth twisted as she considered it before she nodded. “Very well. But we must be rid of it when the sun goes down. It will be far too visible out here.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” I said, faking a salute. “Sarah, help me grab some wood.”

  That got the others’ attention, but I led Sarah off before anyone could say anything. Sarah followed mutely, moved by the tone of my voice.

  Once we were a bit away from the others, I started poking around to find some dead bushes or other sources of wood and kindling. At the same time, still keeping my eyes off her, I spoke quietly. “What’s the deal, boss? You look like someone just ran over your dog.”

  Sarah didn’t even tell me not to call her “boss.” She just stood there, not stooping to help me find things to burn. “I almost got you killed,” she said quietly. “You could have drowned, and it would have been my fault.”

  “Oh, that?” I said, scoffing. “Are you kidding me? That wasn’t your fault. You and Miles just didn’t know how strong the river was going to be. And besides, look at me. I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine, but you might not have been,” she said. “I thought I was going to die when I saw you sink under the water. I froze. I thought you were gone.”

  “Listen, I’m fine,” I said. “You couldn’t have known that was going to happen.”

  “No, I have to know,” said Sarah. “I have to see things like that coming. Because all it takes is one time for one of us to be a little unlucky, and that’s it. What if Tess hadn’t been there today? Without all six of us, there’s no way we can beat Terrence. We just can’t.”

  I straightened up, for a moment abandoning all pretense of collecting firewood. “Listen, Sarah, I get it. You feel responsible for every little thing that happens to all of us. That’s, like, really really adult of you or whatever. It’s why you’re the boss, and let me tell you, better you than me.”

  She snorted. “Don’t call me boss.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” I said, smiling. “But, hey—you need to accept something right off the bat. You can’t see every single thing that’s ever going to happen to all of us. And you can’t keep us all out of danger all the time. There are things you won’t be able to see coming. I’m not happy about it, either, but we’re fighting a war. And we already know that one of us isn’t going to make it back from this.”

  Her jaw set in a firm line. “I don’t believe that.”

  I patted her shoulder. “There we go. That’s the boss we need, bossing us around. Like a boss.”

  She stared at the ground, sullen and unconvinced. “That’s nice of you to say. But I can’t let things like that slide. I can’t. If I start, I’ll never stop. That’s the start of a long, slippery slope that gets one or all of us killed.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” I said. “We’re all worried, Sarah. You can’t take all of that on your shoulders. Not for all of us.”

  She didn’t raise her eyes. “I have to.”

  She turned and walked back to the others, completely forgetting about the firewood. I saw her sink to sit on the grass by Darren. He was munching on something, and he looked up awkwardly as she plopped down next to them. From where I stood, it didn’t look like either one of them was saying anything.

  I sighed and kept picking up dead branches from around the floor. In a few minutes, I brought them back to the campsite. I set them in a little tent shape surrounded by rocks, then lit them on fire with a snap of my fingers.

  “Everything all right?” said a small voice behind me.

  I smiled, but wiped it off before turning. “All good,” I told Tess. “That heat already feels good. I should be dry by sundown.”

  “I more meant with Sarah,” said Tess. She looked past me, and I followed her gaze. Darren was chatting to Sarah now, but her responses were short and clipped.

  “She’ll be all right. She blames herself for the bridge sinking.”

  “Oh,” said Tess. Then: “Why? She couldn’t have known.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re in charge,” I said. “You think everything’s your fault, whether it is or it isn’t.”

  We ate the rest of our meal in silence. The sun dipped below the horizon, and we prepared ourselves to ride once more as the twilight was fading away.

  “So where’s this path to the south?” said Miles.

  “I can’t say for sure, but I’m reasonably certain it’s to the south,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, genius.”

  “We will ride on,” said Cara. “I am sure that we will know it when we find it.”

  “I’ll put a light up for us to ride by,” I said.

  “Do it, but keep it small,” said Cara. “It will make us all too easy to find.”

  “Got it, your captainness,” I said. I gestured, and a small ball of flame sprang up above my fingertips.

  “I’ll ride at the front with you,” said Raven. “Two lights are better than one.”

  I nodded, and the two of us took our places at the head of the line. The blue and red of our lights painted the ground before our horses as we rode, and the smell of ozone from Raven’s lightning washed over us.

  In the end, it was only a few hours before we found what we were looking for. I was lost in thought for a moment, staring up at the starry sky above. There seemed to be way more stars in Midrealm than there were on Earth. Something to do with the lack of city or traffic lights I assumed. Then I noticed a sudden mound of blackness rising up, blocking out the stars in a growing shape before us.

  I saw the source of the darkness a couple of minutes later. A massive stone archway seemed to spring out of the ground, sealed by a stone door that had to be three stories high, and half as wide as a city block.

  “Um…think that’s the shortcut?” I said.

  “It would seem to be,” said Cara.

  “There’s something on it,” said Raven. “Some kind of writing.”

  I pushed more fire into the ball above my palm, and the ball swelled in size, bathing the rock before us in red. I saw what Raven meant. At first I thought they were just scratches, but then I saw that they were arranged in lines, running left to right and up and down the wall. They were unmistakably some kind of language.

  “What does it say?” I said.

  “I don’t read rock scratches,” said Raven.

  “It is our language,” said Barius. “You cannot read it because the Realm Keepers’ magic only works for the spoken word, not for the written.”

  “So what does it say, big man?” I asked.

  Samuel read the words aloud:

  Whether friend or foe, beware

  When traveling this path

  Darkness hangs upon the air

  And hunts for you in wrath

  Fleet and swift your road must be

  The light to overtake

  Surely death will take you when

  You enter Giant’s Gate

  Nora gave a quiet gasp. The rest of us were silent.

  “So…cheerful place, then,” I said.

  “My Lady…” stammered Nora. “Captain Gaskill…we cannot honestly be thinking of entering this place, can we?”

  “Why not?” I said. “What in that poem could possibly make you not want to go inside?”

  “Oh, Chaos take me,” said Barius. “You can’t tell me you believe this is the Giant’s Gate, do you?”

  Tseeer!

  A harsh, shrill cry cut the air above us, making me flinch. I wheeled my horse, peering up into the sky above. The moon hung in the sky, pale and glimmering. As I watched, a shadow passe
d in front of it.

  “Crows!” I shouted. “That was a crow!”

  “How could they have found us?” said Barius. “Is he so close?”

  “It cannot be,” said Cara. “They must be scouts.”

  Tseeer!

  This time the cry was far away, over the plains to the north.

  “It’s leaving!” said Calvin.

  “No,” I said. “That was another one.”

  “We’ve got to get inside,” said Sarah. “There’s more coming.”

  “My Lady, we must not!” cried Nora.

  “How are we even supposed to get in?” said Miles.

  Sarah sighed. “I’m the freaking Keeper of Earth, Miles.”

  She turned her horse around once more to face the gate. Reaching out, she clenched her hands like she was holding two big rocks, then began to pull.

  Tseeer!

  The cry was incredibly close. On instinct, I summoned a blast of flame and sent it flying into the sky above us. I heard a cry of pain and the flashing sizzle of swiftly-burned flesh. I caught a glimpse of black feathers in the sky half a mile up.

  “Sarah!” I said. “Hurry!”

  A sharp zzzat marked Raven’s lightning bolt as it blasted into the sky. She fired blind, but I caught sight of another crow in the brief flash of light. It was a miss, but a near one. Then the thunderclap ripped the air, and I winced and covered my ear. My horse whinnied in fright below me.

  Sarah grunted as she heaved on the stone doors of the archway. The thing was huge, no doubt about it. She was struggling for every inch. I saw her lean forward in the saddle, as though she was pulling physically and moving her body instead of the door. But bit by bit, it was sliding open. A thick black gap appeared in between the doors, widening by the second.

  “Come on!” I said. I sent another bolt of flame skyward. A hateful cry answered it.

  “Go!” said Sarah. “It’s wide enough!”

  I didn’t wait for her to repeat it, kicking my horse’s sides. It leapt into a gallop, seeming almost grateful to do so. One by one we sped through the doors. Sarah went last. A final cry from the crows chased her inside. Once we were all within the massive doors, Sarah repeated the trick to pull them shut behind us.