The Irispire Portal

by Robinson Castillo

  "Yes, Captain Uthanasa," I say back.

  Captain Haloran doesn't acknowledge me before turning around. The two of them walk out of the room. Captain Haloran's hand rests on the small of Lara's back, and she leans her head on his shoulder. Hmm. I guess I was wrong. She is in love with someone.

  Forty

  I get back to my room half an hour later and see Lev tossing and turning in his bed. I go over to him, and give his back a light rub, accompanied by long shh's. I used to soothe my son Alphonse the same way when he was a baby. After Lev falls back asleep, I go to my bed. I should sleep, but my eyes remain open, staring at the vines twisting over each other on the ceiling. I lie there for an hour more, eyes open, thoughts of everything that's happened swirling in my head.

  "Nyyx?" Lev says.

  I turn over to my left.

  "Lev, go back to bed."

  "I'm having trouble sleeping," he says.

  "Well, you've been through a lot."

  "I'd say," he says. He is speaking softly. His voice is weak and tired. "How are you feeling?"

  "I can't sleep either," I say. "But don't worry. I've gotten more sleep in the last two weeks than I have in over four hundred years."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. Living a long time will do that to ya. Weeks feel like days, an entire season feels like a month. Plus I never got tired because of the sword."

  "Right, the sword. Speaking of which, the place we gotta go to bring it, how bad is it gonna be?"

  I look at Lev. His eyelids are heavy, but can't quite close all the way to give him the sleep he needs.

  "Not gonna lie, Lev. It's gonna be pretty bad. From what I saw, Marchosias has already crossed five, maybe six, legions over from the spiritual plane."

  "How much is a legion, again?"

  "Around five thousand."

  "That's a lot," he says.

  I chuckle. "I know. Listen, Lev...what we have to do… I want you to know it’s not too late for you to back out. No one would think any less of you if you want to leave. In a few hours, we're leaving for a dangerous mission. If you want out, say so. I'm sure we could find you a ride home."

  Lev's eyes flutter open.

  "Don't get me wrong, I've thought about it," he says. "But I don't know how I'm going to be able to go back — I mean all the way back — knowing what I know now."

  "You can't," I say. "You can never come all the way back. That's part of the whole hero gig. Once you've gained the knowledge of what's out there, you're forever changed. Even when you return home, you're not the same person. But at least you'll be safe."

  "Yeah but for how long?"

  "Well if we win, then a very long time."

  "And if we lose?"

  I say nothing.

  "So you think I'm a hero?" he asks.

  "What?"

  "Just a second ago you said not coming all the way back is part of the hero gig."

  "Yeah, of course you're a hero, Lev," I tell him. "You've got to be kidding me with that question. You've killed a demon wolf. You started down a vampire lord, saved people from a burning building, and less than two hours ago you went up against an army of vampires and ogres and survived. If you're not a hero, I don't know who is."

  "Thanks. But it's not like I didn't have help. If it weren't for you guys, I wouldn't have made it."

  "No one goes it alone, Lev," I say. "I know I wouldn't be able to. Kyle, Astraea, Tamon, Lara, you; all of you, at one point or another, saved my life. You won't ever have to worry. We'll be there for you, and we won't let you down."

  "Thanks."

  "No problem," I say. "There is one thing that's been bugging me, though. Back at the barn. Why did you come back for us? I mean, really. I know you said it was because you needed the money, but usually in situations like those money's not enough of a motivator. You knew what was waiting for you. Most people would have left, yet you came back. Why?"

  "Were you ever bullied as a kid?" he asks me.

  I try to think back five hundred plus years.

  "I can't remember that far back," I say, with a chuckle. "I don't think so."

  "I used to get bullied a lot," he says. "I've been made to feel afraid by a lot of people, including my dad. And after every time I was made to feel small, I felt ashamed of myself. Like I can't believe I would let someone make me feel like that, you know? It made me angry, up until I started standing up for myself. When Marchosias made me feel like that, the fear and despair were so intense, but so were the shame and anger that came afterward. That's why I came back. I wanted to stand up to her and not be ashamed with myself for being picked on anymore."

  "Hmm. You're a good guy, Lev. And thank you," I say, "for saving my life. I would have died there if you didn't come back."

  "You're welcome," he says. "And even though I know I can quit now; I'm still going with you guys. I don't think I can live with myself knowing I could have done something and choosing to go home instead. But can I ask you honestly what you think our chances are?"

  "Honestly...not so good," I say. "We're going to be going up against a lot of baddies, with little chance of making it through. It may be a long shot, but it's what we got."

  "Okay," he says. "Thanks for being honest."

  "Try to get some sleep. I'll wake you up when it's time."

  "Goodnight, Nyyx."

  "Goodnight, buddy."

  Forty-One

  "That's your plan?" Kyle asks.

  "Yeah."

  Kyle and I are in his recovery room. I'm sitting on a chair in front of him, my elbows resting on my knees. Kyle is sitting on the bed. Two yellow crystals are floating around him, scanning his body with healing yellow light. He looks better, but he's not all the way back. His normally golden brown skin is yellowish now. There are deep bags under his green eyes. At the top of his head is a tuft of gray hair surrounded by his usually youthful light brown.

  "The Caldera is a big area," he says. "Do you know where to start?"

  "I told King Hurdalin about what we saw. He said we were looking at the ruins of an ancient dwarven capital called Laksona," I say. "The Laksona dwarves were an independent dwarven nation until the Thadamar annexed their cavern systems and made them part of their kingdom. Around ten thousand years ago, the dwarves who lived there abandoned the region when the Caldera grew to threaten its borders."

  "What was that tower we saw?" he asks.

  "That was something called The Irispire," I answer. "And it's not a tower. It's a mile high stalagmite. The people of Laksona built their city around it. It was their holy place. Their legends say the dwarven god, Iri built it. Best guess is Marchosias is at the top of that thing, using the Field energy from the Caldera's geological activity to bolster her magic in summoning her army."

  "Okay, so what'll we do when we get there?"

  "Well, that part I don't know yet," I say. "A lot of it depends on the kind of force King Hurdalin can muster on short notice."

  He looks away, nodding, considering, and evaluating. Then he looks back to me.

  "She’s up there, Nyyx,” he says. “We have to get her. You have no idea what they’ve been doing to her.”

  He’s right. I don’t have any idea about what she’s going through. I have lived without pain for so long. He, however, knows exactly what’s happening to her. Or at least he’s had a taste. When Lev and I found him in Thaddeus’ custody, he’d been beat to shit. His face was a mess, and his white thermal suit was soaked in both fresh and dry blood.

  “How did Thaddeus get to you?” I ask him.

  “I was an idiot,” he says. “I went right to him.”

  “When?”

  “I can’t remember exactly,” he says. “Maybe four days before you got there.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure there’s a lot of stuff that needs clearing up for you with regards to timelines,” I say. “The last time we were together the erolith were chasing us.”

  “Yes,” he says. “I remember losing consciousness in the sewers.”

&
nbsp; “And where did you regain your senses?” I ask him.

  “Grace Hospital,” he says. “District Six. A health-care bot informed me that my injuries looked more like they came from a traffic collision rather than an explosion. There were no burns, but several cuts, bruises, and severe internal injuries. They said it was as if my body had been moving at great speeds and suddenly stopped. They told me emergency services found me within the blast radius, close to ground zero, and I didn’t know what they were talking about. Then I saw the news. I saw what remained of The Halcyon Building and its surrounding compound. The traffic collision part is still a mystery to me.”

  “Oh right,” I say. “I can clear that up for you.”

  I explain the chase through District Seven, and about how our erolith pursuers put up an arcane wall that we crashed into. It was that same wall that protected us from the blast.

  “How big was the wall?” he asks.

  “Ten foot by ten foot, I think.”

  “Well that explains the discrepancy in my injuries,” he says, “and how you and I survived the bombs.”

  “Okay so what happened then?” I ask.

  “I accepted the hospital’s care, of course. I didn’t want to use my heal spell, for it would have alerted the erolith of my presence. I needed time to, as you would say, ‘do some digging’. There were various live-streams of the Halcyon bombing, from all angles, even ones from vehicles that were midway between Districts Seven and Eight. News broadcasters pieced them together, and from what I can deduce, that blast was ‘out of style’. I haven’t seen an incendiary bomb in centuries. I needed to inspect that bomb you intercepted to see if it would cause the same type of blast.”

  “Where is the bomb now?” I ask.

  “It’s in the sewers beneath District Seven, along with the truck.”

  “And the three bodies?”

  “I incinerated them,” he says.

  “When?” I ask.

  “After you killed yourself inside the barn,” he answers.

  I say nothing.

  “I tried to help you,” he says. “But no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it. You were tearing yourself apart faster than my heal spell could repair you. It was as if I was trying to bail out water from a sinking ship by cupping my hands. You were impervious to enchantment spells so I couldn’t put you to sleep. You were too wild and too strong to physically restrain. You kept gouging yourself, getting past flesh and down to the veins. There was nothing I could do but leave you. I shut my eyes so I didn’t have to watch, but I had to endure your screams. When the still quiet of the night returned, your limp and lifeless body covered in blood was all that remained. That’s when I burned the three bodies, wrapped you up, put you in the truck, and took to the sewers.”

  Reliving all that made me feel uneasy, and I move to change the subject. “So tell me about the bomb.”

  “Standard RDX.”

  “You’re kidding me,” I say. “Old-school C-4?”

  “Yes, but they used a Polysolocol binder to magnify the blast. They also used Nihonium as a curing agent. Lightweight, malleable, and powerful. One pound of this material could obliterate an entire building and everyone in it. I’d hate to think how much of it was inside Halcyon. The damage must have reached far beneath the street level and down into the sewers as well.”

  Now it all makes sense. RDX is archaic. There is no way anyone can get their hands on it. Just like my guns. The materials aren’t around to make them anymore. And the only way to get a hold of it is if you were alive when that stuff was around.

  “So Thaddeus had the supply,” I say. “That’s what led you to him.”

  “Yes. He had a meager one,” he says, “but supply nonetheless.”

  “Which is why he had to get a little creative with a magnifying agent,” I say.

  “I should have known better than to come after Thaddeus alone,” he says. “But if he was behind the bombs, then he must have had something to do with the manufactured ogres. I wanted to look for proof which may clear our names, or at least have something to show the erolith.”

  “Did you see how he was making them?” I ask. “The ogres, I mean.”

  He shakes his head. “I was captured sneaking around Club Rapture before I could find anything more. Then they made sure I suffered. What they did to me is a fraction of what Marchosias is—”

  He gets choked up before he can finish his sentence. He’s thinking of Roxx, and imagining the worst.

  “We’ll get her back, Kyle.”

  "Assuming this plan of yours works," he says. "It sounds like suicide."

  "Well, this is it. This is our Hail Mary play."

  “I suppose I should thank you,” he says. “I heard you made a plea for my release.”

  “Well, I think your stepfather would have released you anyway. He just didn’t want to be seen doing it, you know what I mean?”

  “Politics.”

  “Yup,” I say.

  “Well, whatever it is, I still thank you,” he says. “I never thought I’d see her again. At least now I have a chance to do so.”

  Yeah, and most likely die in the process. I didn’t say that, of course.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask him. “You don’t look so good.”

  “As long as I have something left, then I will use it to try to get her back,” he says.

  I wouldn’t have expected anything less.

  “And what of the Nanthanoshi?” he asks.

  “One thing at a time, brother,” I say.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he says. "When do we leave?"

  “Soon,” I say. “They’re getting a vessel ready for the trip. Get some more rest. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

  “Once more into the breach,” he says.

  I smile. “Exactly.”

  I stand up and walk to the door, but before I can turn the handle…

  “Nyyx. How much of her do you think is left?” he asks me.

  “I’m gonna be honest with you, and tell you I don’t know. When I last talked to her, Astraea has completely taken over Roxx. I mean, maybe Roxx is in there somewhere, but like I said, I have no idea.”

  “At least there’s a chance,” he says.

  “We’re going to do everything we can to get Roxx back. I promise.”

  “All right,” he says. “I believe I’ll go rest now.”

  “Okay buddy. I’ll come get you soon,” I say. Then I walk out of the room and leave him alone with his thoughts.

  Forty-Two

  We're flying on an elven boat. Kyle, Tamon, Lev, and I are on deck, and Lara’s at the back piloting our craft. In the middle of the deck is a six foot tall brown crystal — as tall as the one in the erolith's war room. It's a powerful cloaking crystal. Lara said it took five or six of their best arcanists to make it.

  Lara holds out her hand, gathers Field energy, and activates the crystal from the helm. The tall brown crystal spins on its end and a layer of refracted glass covers the boat, then another layer, and another, each layer spreading like ice fractals on a watery surface. After every layer, the world outside the boat becomes obscured to the point of becoming a giant blur of colors.

  "Can you see anything?" I ask Lara.

  "It will pass," she answers.

  "I hope this works, lad," says Tamon.

  "It'll work," I say. "It has to."

  Once the layers of cloaking magic stop forming, our visibility returns. We are now flying over the city. Superior is around two hundred square miles. From this height, we can see fifty miles ahead of us. The skies are dusted with stars, and the full moon is to the west, peeking over some Rocky Mountain snow caps. We near the edge of the city. There is a mile wide band of forest separating the city and the barrier. This is where the elven army has taken up camp. Clear lines of retreat have been set up. Vessels to take any survivors back to the lake are at the city's perimeter, and vessels along the lakeshore are ready to take them back to The Palace of Souls. C
loser to the barrier, elven fighters are arranged into centuries. Six soldiers across in a line, and ten lines deep. They're standing strong, patiently waiting for the barrier to break.

  While the elves are models of discipline and organization, the other side of the barrier is a hotbed of barbaric chaos. The forest behind Thaddeus' army is burning. Yet there they were, in rolling grassland, fucking and fighting among themselves and giving in to their base natures. The flying vamps along the barrier, trying to take it down crystal by crystal, are dying in droves. That's right, dying. They're draining themselves to the point of death, trying to dispel the crystals which make up Superior's barrier. Huge clumps of them fall from the sky, turning to dust before they hit the ground.

  Thaddeus hovers behind them, yelling, encouraging them, and barking orders. Whenever an empty patch of vampire bodies opens up, he orders more to take up space. He's a hungry wolf at the door, salivating at the taste of his victory. Right now it doesn't look like he's going to run out of bodies to throw at Superior's barrier. Can the barrier hold up? Maybe Thaddeus will deplete his people enough that the elves will have the upper hand by the time battle finally erupts. Is it okay to hang our hopes on that thought?

  We hover over the burning forest, and we are far enough from the barrier that Lara can fly us closer to Superior valley's eastern mountain wall. A hundred miles south of us the gargantuan black rock, hovering above the southern pass, is keeping vigil. Bodies are dropping out of it like rain, flying towards the barrier. Their numbers seem infinite.

  "Look at 'em," says Lev. "I've never seen anything like this."

  "Let's hope you never will again," says Tamon.

  Black smoke from the forest fire below rises as we fly over the valley, obscuring our vision. Vampires fly past us, through the smoke and flame. Lara hugs the mountainsides a little closer to get far enough away from the vamps streaking toward the barrier. The last thing we want is one of them crashing into us. Lara pushes a lever forward, and the boat picks up speed.

  "So you guys think they have the same detection magic that The Superior guys have?" asks Lev.

  "Most likely," I say. "If Thaddeus is down there. I'm willing to bet someone is watching for anything coming in or out of the valley."