Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  The clerk peered through the glass and banged the machine. At the same time, Kyja peeked around the front of the bus.

  Marcus started toward the door, but at that moment, the driver returned. He took the tickets from the three women, who climbed aboard with a concerned look back. The soldiers went next, and one of the young families.

  By then the clerk had cleaned up the vending machines and was returning to his office. Kyja pointed toward the bus. If they didn’t do something quickly, it would leave without them. The driver glanced at Kyja, “You getting on?”

  “Um, not—not right now,” Kyja stammered.

  “Now or never.” The driver started toward the bus. If Marcus was going to do something, it had to be now. And it had to be big.

  Marcus pointed his wand at the hot dog machine. The motor turning the hot dogs suddenly sped up. At first it was only a little. But soon it was spinning so fast, the sausages began to slip off their metal spikes. The clerk—who was walking back from the vending machine—didn’t notice what was happening until a shriveled sausage flew past his left ear like a guided missile. He looked up just in time to see another sausage soar over his head, hitting the actress on the TV in the face.

  Marcus waved his wand at the drink machine. It clunked three times in quick succession, and boom, boom, boom, three sodas launched themselves across the bus station. The driver stepped away from the bus to see what was going on, and Marcus used air magic on the hot dogs, the drink machine, and the candy machines all at once.

  It was like some kind of crazy video game. Hot dogs flew through the air. Sodas popped open, spraying their contents like geysers, the candy machine buzzed and rocked as though it might break into dance moves at any moment. Completely spooked, the clerk raced into his office and slammed the door behind him. He popped up just long enough to grab the phone off the counter, then disappeared from sight.

  “Hello?” his panicked voice shouted from inside the office. “Police?”

  The bus driver looked over at the ticket clerk. “What’s going on, bud? You want me to grab a fire extinguisher or something?”

  Marcus climbed off his chair. Scooting across the floor on the seat of his pants, he raced passed the nearly toothless old man, who was helping himself to a hot dog and a soda, and hurried to the bus. Kyja was waiting for him. She helped him up the steps, and by the time the driver returned, they were ducked down behind the ladies in the back.

  “That was quite a diversion,” Vicki said.

  Marcus only shrugged. “Weird.”

  Interlude

  Attack

  Tankum had never admitted defeat. Not in his mortal life, and not as a creature of stone. Not until now. Nothing he’d tried had worked. Not brute force. Not strategy. Not even trickery. With a mortal enemy, he could have worn them out. With a fixed count, even a count that far outnumbered his forces, he could have pared them down, changed terrain, improved his odds.

  Even in Windshold, knowing he was outnumbered and overmatched, he had believed he could still win until the very last blade had taken his life.

  But these creatures were like nothing he’d ever faced. For every one he destroyed, two took their place. Strategy didn’t matter. If he flanked them, they simply turned to face the new threat with the same mindless ferocity.

  When he tricked them into meeting his forces in the narrow mountain pass, he thought he might be able to hold them back. Or at least slow them down. But they simply ripped away the side of the mountain until it was wide enough for them to overwhelm his army.

  His men were exhausted and dispirited. Most of the humans had been cut down or had fled. He couldn’t blame them, although he’d never run from a battle and never would. But now, even the stone warriors and wizards were lagging. It wasn’t because of their bodies growing weary; they no longer needed rest. But even a stone soldier’s mind could only take so much before it began to break.

  He could only hope the boy had reached Terra ne Staric in time to warn them.

  Turning back to the fight, he raised his swords, charged against the overwhelming force, and shouted the battle cry he had lived by all his life. “To the death!”

  Part 4

  Battle at Terra ne Staric

  Chapter 37

  An Old Friend

  The bus ride took longer than they would have liked, but at least they didn’t go hungry. It turned out that Vicki, Anne, and Barbara had brought twice as much food as they could possibly eat. Kyja and Marcus, who hadn’t had a meal since Icehold, gladly helped them finish off the sandwiches, cookies, and fruit. The women also taught them several card games, including Skip-Bo, Phase Ten, and Rook.

  Riph Raph napped, caught the occasional fly buzzing around the bus window, and complained about being warty and squishy, when the women weren’t close enough to overhear him.

  Kyja was worried the ticket clerk might get in trouble and made Marcus promise to send money to the bus station to cover the costs of the sodas, candy, and hot dogs—even though Marcus argued that no one in his right mind would actually pay money for the disgusting Polish sausages. She also made him promise to send money to cover the cost of their tickets, although they didn’t tell Barbara that. The old woman seemed to be enjoying their prank far too much, and they didn’t want to spoil her fun.

  By the time the bus pulled into the terminal, it was a little after seven that night.

  “Can we give you a lift somewhere?” Vicki asked. “My daughter is picking us up.”

  “No, thanks,” Kyja said. “Our ride should be coming any minute.” She and Marcus had discussed the possibility that the women might offer help once they reached Chicago. They both agreed that, although the women were very nice, the fewer people who noticed a boy and a girl traveling alone, the better it would be—just in case the Dark Circle came around asking questions.

  As they left the bus station, Marcus said, “It’s kind of strange.”

  “The city?” Kyja asked. Even though she’d been to Chicago once before, the size of it still amazed her. She could probably put every man, woman, and child in Farworld here, and not fill it up. And still, she found herself searching the face of every adult they passed, wondering if one of them might be her mother or father from Earth.

  “Not the city,” Marcus said. “The way people always help you.”

  Kyja paused. “What do you mean?”

  Marcus scratched his head. “Every time we come to Earth, you do things for people, and they do things for you. Like those ladies on the bus. If I’d been here by myself, they might have been nice. They might even have felt sorry for me. But they never would have helped me sneak onto the bus or given me food. It’s like you have a strange effect on everyone around you.”

  “That’s crazy,” Kyja said. If people were kind to her, it was just because she was kind to them. What was so special about that?

  Marcus didn’t say anything. But she could tell by his expression that he didn’t agree.

  “Which way?” Kyja asked as they exited the building.

  Marcus pointed to the left. “The place we jumped from is about seven blocks that way.”

  “Can you make it?” Kyja asked. She’d tried not to say anything to Marcus about his pain, but it was clear he was suffering. Whenever he thought no one was watching, he squeezed the muscles in his bad leg, his eyes wincing, his teeth clenched.

  “Sure,” Marcus said. “It may just take me a little longer.”

  But they hadn’t gone more than a few hundred feet when he had to stop to rest. Kyja glanced around. This wasn’t the best part of town, and the sun was beginning to set. At this rate, it would be dark well before they reached the jumping point.

  “Maybe I could carry you for a little bit,” she suggested, although she wasn’t even sure she could lift him.

  “I’m fine.” Marcus grimaced and forced himself to go almost another block before he collapsed against a chain-link fence, sweat beading on his face and arms.

  Kyja looked through the f
ence to where a group of boys was playing a game she remembered from the last time they were here—basselball. Even though there were a million other things she and Marcus needed to be doing, a part of her longed to run onto the court and join kids her age in a game that didn’t require any magic.

  “Hey,” a voice said from behind them. “Don’t I know you?”

  Kyja turned to look at the boy standing by the fence. At first she didn’t recognize him. He was much taller than her or Marcus, with broad shoulders and long legs.

  “You’re the chicken girl, aren’t cha?”

  “Ty?” Kyja shouted. She couldn’t believe it. What were the chances of seeing the boy who’d helped them through the city over a year ago? And what had happened to him? He was so big.

  Ty grinned, resting his basselball on his hip. “Thought that was you.” He looked over at Marcus, who was still trying to catch his breath. “What’s happening, little brother? You look like you’ve been working up a sweat.”

  Marcus wiped his forehead. “A little.”

  Ty glanced around curiously. “You get away from those dudes who was chasing you last time you was here?”

  “Actually,” Kyja said, “now we’re chasing them.”

  “That’s cool.” He bounced his basselball. “Need me to drive you somewhere?”

  Kyja’s mouth dropped open. “You have a driving machine? Did you get your humbler?”

  Ty laughed. “No. I ain’t got no Hummer yet. But I got a real sweet ride.”

  Marcus frowned. “You’re old enough to have a car?”

  Ty suddenly lost control of the ball, bouncing it off his foot. “Well, it’s sort of my car. Mostly it’s my brother’s. And I ain’t exactly got a license yet. But he lets me drive it anyway. I’m just as good a driver as he is.”

  “Yes, please,” Kyja said. “We would like a ride in your driving machine.”

  Ty grinned. “’Kay. I’ll be back.” He turned and disappeared down the street, bouncing his basselball as he went.

  Marcus gave Kyja a knowing look. “See?”

  “See what?” Kyja asked.

  “What are the chances that in a city the size of Chicago, we’d run into the one person we know? And even more, that he would offer a ride at the very moment we need one? Doesn’t that seem the least bit odd to you?”

  “He’s just nice,” Kyja said.

  “That’s what you think,” Riph Raph said, peeking out of her pocket. “He called me a chicken.”

  “Well you were a chicken the last time he saw you,” Kyja said.

  “I was nothing of the sort. I might look like a frog or a chicken or a . . . a lizard here on Earth. But once a skyte, always a skyte. There is no way to hide the noble race inside.”

  “‘Noble race.’” Marcus chuckled, licking his cracked lips. “Maybe when you’re racing away from danger.”

  Riph Raph scowled, but it was hard to look menacing as a frog.

  “I’m telling you,” Marcus said to Kyja, “something is going on with you, and it has been since the first time we came here. I’ll bet Master Therapass knows about it too.” He closed his eyes and rested his head against the fence.

  Kyja was worried about him. His breathing was shallow, and even while he was resting, perspiration coated his face and soaked his shirt. She knew what it meant: Farworld was in danger. Maybe in the greatest danger it had ever faced. And Marcus’s health was a reflection of that. The only way to help him was to find a way to stop—or at least slow down—the Dark Circle.

  Several minutes later, a dark blue driving machine rolled down the street, its paint glittering under the setting sun as though bits of metal were embedded in it. Music like Kyja had never heard blared from its open windows as it pulled to the side of the street. The music had a rhythm that made Kyja tap her feet, although she couldn’t understand most of the words.

  Ty parked the driving machine, which was so close to the ground that its sides nearly dragged on the street, and jumped out. “What you think?” he asked. “Is she fine looking or what?”

  “‘She’?” Kyja asked, not realizing that driving machines could be male or female. “Yes. She’s beautiful.”

  Ty beamed.

  Together they helped Marcus into what Ty called his sweet ride, and slid him to the middle of the front seat.

  “He’s not looking too good,” Ty said when the three of them were in the car.

  “I know,” Kyja said. “But he’ll get better when we arrive where we’re going.”

  “Where are you going? The doctor? Or maybe the mall? Burger and a shake might make him feel better.” Ty put his hand on the wheel that steered his driving machine and moved it away from the curb with a jerk that knocked Kyja back in her seat. “Sorry ’bout that. She got a lot of power.”

  Kyja could feel the machine vibrating through her body—or maybe it was the music. “We need to go back to the place you took us before.”

  Ty peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You gonna disappear again, ain’t cha?”

  “We have to,” Kyja admitted. “It’s the only way to help Marcus.”

  Ty stopped for a red light, and his hands tapped along with the music. “You some kind of magician or something?”

  Kyja couldn’t help laughing at that. He was the first person who had ever called her that. “No. I’m just a girl.”

  “Uh huh,” Ty said, clearly not believing her. They passed building after building, each taller than anything in Farworld—even taller than the Aerisians’ castle—and Kyja considered telling Ty the truth. How would he react if she explained that she and Marcus were on a quest to gather four elementals to help them open a doorway between two worlds? Probably exactly as she would have responded if someone had told her about Earth before she met Marcus.

  As they turned a corner, Kyja leaned over to check on Marcus, who seemed to be sleeping.

  “Whoa!” Ty said, nearly running his driving machine off the road as he stared in her direction. “That thing real?”

  Kyja looked down and realized that the pommel of her sword was poking out of her coat. She tried to push it back, but it was too late; Ty had already seen it.

  “That’s a real sword,” Ty said. He stopped in front of the old, peeling building from where Kyja and Marcus had jumped into Water Keep before. “Can I look at it?”

  Kyja didn’t see the harm. He had brought them here; it was the least she could do. She took the sword out of her coat. The leather scabbard was warped and discolored after being soaked in water for so long. But as she drew the blade, it still gleamed.

  “Holy smoking steel,” Ty said, his eyes wide. “You know how to use it?”

  Kyja couldn’t help swelling a little with pride. “I’m as good with this as you are with your basselball. Maybe even better.”

  “You may be a girl,” Ty said. “But you ain’t just anything.” He turned his head to read the writing on the blade. “‘The most powerful magic is inside you.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Kyja said, putting the sword back into its scabbard and sliding it inside her coat. “It’s something a man told me once. A man who is a real magician. He said everyone has magic inside them. You just need to find it.”

  Ty thought about that for a minute before nodding. “I get that. I always known I got something inside me. Maybe it’s basketball. Maybe it’s something else. But I’m gonna do something one day. Ain’t gonna end up no bum sleeping in a cardboard box. Ain’t gonna be doing no drugs neither. Not like my brother.”

  “I believe you,” Kyja said.

  Ty tapped his hands on his legs. “You gonna do something too. Something big. Knew it first time I seen you.”

  Kyja thought about what Marcus had said. Was it possible that there was something special about her? She didn’t feel special. She turned to Ty. “When you ran into Marcus and me, it was just an accident, wasn’t it?”

  Ty blinked. “It’s weird you ask. Tonight I was just hanging out, you k
now? Watching some TV. When all of a sudden, I get this feeling I need to head down to the court. Almost like I was supposed to find you. That sound crazy?”

  Kyja began to nod, but then stopped. Maybe it wasn’t crazy. Master Therapass had said she was supposed to save her world. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do on Earth—how a girl could save such a huge and unimaginable world. But every time she came here, she got the feeling something was missing from this world. Something only she could give it.

  “No,” she said. “It doesn’t sound crazy to me.”

  “Me neither.” Ty looked out the window, where the sky had turned black and the streetlights were turning on. “So, you gonna do it now? You gonna disappear?”

  “Not yet,” Kyja said. “We have to wait until midnight. It’s safer for Marcus that way.” She reached for the door handle, but Ty stopped her.

  “What cha doing? It’s only nine. You ain’t waiting out there for three hours.”

  “Don’t you need to get your driving machine back to your brother?” Kyja asked.

  Ty shrugged and gave her a shy smile. “Didn’t exactly ask for permission to take her. So I don’t guess it matters when I bring her back.”

  For the next three hours—while Marcus slept and Riph Raph squirmed in her coat pocket—Kyja asked Ty everything she could think of about Earth. For his part, Ty seemed to enjoy answering her questions, although he acted surprised by some of the things she didn’t know and laughed when she mispronounced words.

  He taught her about different kinds of music, scrolling through various “radio stations.” “This is rap; it’s def. That’s rock. This is violins, and horns, and junk. That’s cowboy garbage. Makes my ears hurt to listen to it.”

  He explained the game he liked to play—which was actually called basket ball, not bassel ball, as well as games called football and baseball.

  “There’s also some other games like soccer and tennis and stuff. But I don’t know nothing ’bout them.”