Keeper of the Realms

by Marcus Alexander

  Charlie blinked. The celebration had been as intense as the battle earlier in the day had been brutal. Sylvaris and its people were exceptional. But why, she thought to herself, had she been woken so early? She couldn’t have had more than three hours sleep. Glancing through a narrow window, she could see that the sun had yet to break the horizon and stars still glimmered in the sky. Tired as she was, a buzz of excitement began to fill her. Perhaps Dridif would have some news for her; news that could potentially bring her one step closer to freeing her parents.

  Before she could ask any questions Marsila led her into a wide hallway at the end of which large doors had been left ajar, allowing a sliver of view through to the Jade Circle. Disturbingly, she could see councillors arguing and shouting.

  Charlie turned questioningly to her companion.

  ‘I have no idea what is going on,’ muttered Marsila. ‘But I intend to find out.’

  She strode forward only to be stopped by a guard.

  ‘Marsila and Charlie Keeper,’ he said. ‘Lady Dridif asks that ya join her in her study.’

  A particularly loud barrage of protests echoed up the hallway. ‘We’re doomed, I tell ya! Doomed! Curse the luck of –’

  The meaty sound of someone being slapped brought a sudden and uncomfortable silence.

  The guard hunched his shoulders, unhappy with the tense situation he found himself in. Tonight was no night to be guarding the Jade Circle.

  ‘Please go and see Lady Dridif. Now.’ With a snap of his fingers, he indicated that the other guards should close the council doors. He led Marsila and Charlie to a discreet exit that led to a different part of the tower. ‘Two floors up, third door on the right.’

  Charlie and Marsila exchanged a look but followed his directions.

  Reaching Lady Dridif’s study, Marsila rapped her knuckles on the door.

  ‘Enter!’

  Lady Dridif’s study had not changed since Charlie’s first visit several weeks ago. A large fireplace occupied one wall, and along another was a huge map of Bellania. The third wall was covered by bookshelves and the fourth was one enormous window that, when the sun rose, would reveal the cityscape of Sylvaris and beneath that the rolling canopy of Deepforest. For now, it lay dark and foreboding.

  Lady Dridif, the Jade Circle’s leader, stood by her desk. Small as she was, the old Treman lady emanated strength and leadership. Like all Tremen, she had green skin and large earlobes, but instead of wooden ornaments she wore jade and turquoise, a sign of her devotion to her role as First Speaker of the Jade Circle. ‘Come in, the pair of ya, and sit down.’ She pointed to four seats arranged on the other side of her desk, two of which were already occupied by Charlie’s friends Kelko and E’Jaaz.

  Kelko was one of Charlie’s closest and most loyal companions. The fat Treman was usually jolly and good-natured but this morning he looked a little the worse for wear. His stomach hung lower than normal and his topknot was in a state of disarray. He held a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, medicine to treat the worst excesses of last night’s victory party. His long face brightened as Charlie took the seat next to him.

  ‘Morning, blossom,’ he said. Leaning closer, he gave a conspiratorial nudge and whispered, ‘Best victory parade ever!’

  E’Jaaz, a Human and a Keeper, sat in the other chair. E’Jaaz looked as dashing as ever. His long hair was pulled back by a braid of blue silk and the tattoos across his cheeks writhed each time he smiled. Once again his choice of shirt, black waistcoat and baggy trousers tucked into sturdy boots gave him the appearance of a roguish adventurer. He flashed Charlie a welcoming grin. Unlike Kelko he appeared none the worse for a long night of drinking and dancing.

  ‘I apologize for calling a meeting at this early hour but I have news. Dark news.’ Dridif’s face grew harder and her hands curled into fists. ‘Bane’s Second and Third armies have pulled out from the twin cities of Alavis and Alacorn, leaving only the lightest of forces behind.’

  ‘Well, surely that’s good news?’ said Marsila. ‘If the Stoman presence is light, there might be an opportunity for us to retake the cities.’

  ‘Yer’ve misread Bane’s reasons for pulling his armies from Alavis and Alacorn,’ said Dridif. ‘They are not retreating. They are advancing.’

  ‘Advancing where?’ asked Kelko.

  ‘I’d have thought that was obvious,’ retorted Dridif. ‘They are coming here ta Sylvaris. Bane’s First started the task of hammering us inta the ground and the Second and Third are coming ta finish the job.’

  3

  Dark Paths

  Mr Crow found the sound of Bane’s measured footsteps both intimidating and reassuring. The contradictory feelings did not rest easily with him, but nonetheless it was true. The tunnel through which they walked was beyond gloomy and horribly claustrophobic. The thud of his master’s footsteps only added to Crow’s unease. Being so close to the Stoman Lord was never pleasant, but to be here, in the darkness with no other company, put a pressure upon his miserly soul.

  Nonetheless, as they came upon another junction and Bane unerringly took the path to the left, the skinny lawyer made very sure to stay close. It would not do to be lost down here; he had seen the shadows move and heard sibilant noises, not to mention inhaling some vile scents that wafted out of concealed pits, hinting of things dead and rotting. So as much as Bane intimidated him, he was very careful to keep up and take some comfort from the thud-thud-thud of his footsteps. As long as he heard those he knew that he would, for the time being, remain safe.

  Scraping his massive shoulders past the tunnel’s exit, Bane stomped his way into a huge cavern and, using a dried riverbed as a subterranean highway, descended deeper into the surprisingly warm guts of the earth. Blind monsters, mutated beasts and ravenous creatures scuttled towards them, but sensing the power hidden beneath Bane’s cowl they quickly retreated or froze into submissive poses.

  Onward and deeper the two progressed. Past ancient statues sculpted by forgotten hands, over bridges spanning black waters that rippled with slow tides and crocodilian predators, through tunnels and twisting mazes they trod until they reached a cavern of silence. Cut into the cavern’s far wall was an archway that hung over an empty door frame. At the top of the arch two glaring eyes had been carved into the rock. Uncaring and unheeding, Bane marched towards this. Bowing his head to dip beneath the archway, he made his way inside. Mr Crow, however, paused to look up with horror at the carving, and flinched. He recognized the eyes scowling down at him, and remembered only too well what lay inside. The change from Human to Crowman had not been easy and Bane’s dark god had not been gentle in the process. It was an unpleasant experience that he never wanted to repeat, not for all the money in the world, which, for this greedy lawyer, was certainly saying something. Holding fast to his diminishing courage, he scampered beneath the archway and into the space beyond.

  It was just as the lawyer remembered it: a seemingly endless room with walls that stretched into the distance. Streams of lava bubbled down the walls to feed a river of magma far below. Rising from this was the bridge that he and Bane stood upon; it too disappeared into the distance to meet the horizon. Waves of shimmering heat rose from the magma, bringing with it the stench of sulphur and burnt metal.

  While this room held terrible memories for Crow, it held no fear for Bane. Throwing the Wyrm’s corpse to the ground, he pulled free the mighty hammer that rested upon a mantlepiece and struck the gong that hung from the ceiling. The peal of sound crashed around the room, echoing and reverberating before dwindling to nothing.

  A star appeared in the distance. It grew as it sped down the bridge towards them, stopping only a few metres away to bob and sway above the surface of the bridge like some misplaced comet. The flaming globe was dauntingly large, yet for all its mass it gave off no heat. Instead, it seemed to emanate an intense cold as if something inside were sucking at the life of all that surrounded it. Mr Crow nearly vomited when the long diamond-shaped head appeared from the gaseous d
epths; it was crisp and blackened, with no nose or mouth, just two unusually large eyes that glowed and never seemed to blink. Two reptilian hands snaked out of the light to paw and grasp at the air. Other than that there was very little to see; the god’s body, if indeed there was one, was hidden by the flickering flames.

  Bane bent one knee and briefly bowed his head. ‘My god.’

  ‘What is it you desire?’ came an insectile voice that originated not from the glowing ball of light but from within Bane and Crow’s heads.

  ‘I would ask a boon, my god,’ said Bane. ‘I wish for an army like none other.’

  ‘And how should we shape this army?’ asked the god.

  Bane snapped his fingers at the lawyer and urged him forward. But memories of his last experience with the god swamped Mr Crow’s mind and numbed his legs. A growl of anger from his master quickly overcame this and, striding forward on stiff legs, he stared with ill-concealed fear at Bane’s god as it loomed over him.

  ‘Ca-can you make creatures like this?’ He pointed with a shaking finger towards the Wyrm.

  ‘We can,’ said the god. ‘But that is not what you want, is it?’

  ‘No. Can you make them better? Bigger and out of stone?’

  ‘All things are possible. But I need more than words. I need an image, an idea to work with.’

  ‘What … like a drawing?’ asked Crow. He squealed as he felt Bane’s huge fingers round his waist.

  ‘No,’ rumbled Bane, ‘not a drawing … My god needs a mind that is rich with imagination and ideas. Your mind.’

  ‘No!’ screamed Mr Crow as Bane forced him towards his god’s pawing fingers. ‘No! Not again! Not ag–’

  And just like last time, Bane settled down to watch the show and take some measure of delight in hearing the screams.

  A glum mood filled the study.

  Charlie looked as though the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet. It was a look that Kelko shared and, to some extent, Marsila too.

  E’Jaaz Keeper, in contrast to the others, remained unflappable. He let loose a grim chuckle. ‘And there I was thinking that after our recent hardships and efforts we had won ourselves a brief reprieve. No holiday for us, then? Looks like I’ll have to cancel my trip to the Scented Mountains.’

  Dark god

  ‘How long do we have?’ asked Marsila, ignoring E’Jaaz’s attempt at nonchalance.

  ‘Two days,’ said Dridif, ‘three at the most. Of course, it will take longer for Bane’s siege engines and heavy wagons but we can certainly expect the light infantry, Shades and Rhinospiders ta arrive within that two- ta three-day estimate.’

  The two older Keepers and Kelko shared unhappy looks. Such news was an unwelcome blow. Charlie could not believe it. What could they possibly hope to achieve in two or three days? What could possibly stop the Stoman armies? An unpleasant medley of emotions washed through her: nausea, hopelessness and a prickly simmering of impotent anger. As the sensations grew stronger an image of a shadow-wreathed giant looming over her parents appeared in her mind’s-eye. ‘Bane,’ she growled.

  Her companions looked at her askance. Charlie blushed. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  ‘Wot was that?’ asked Lady Dridif.

  ‘Bane,’ repeated Charlie when she realized that her friends expected her to share her thoughts. ‘He’s the spider at the centre of the web. If we can’t defeat his minions or his armies, why don’t we focus on him? There’s three of us Keepers … three has to be enough to take him down, right? Once he’s out of the picture, surely everything else becomes easier to manage?’

  Kelko began to answer her but was shushed by Dridif’s raised hand. The Jade councillor twisted in her seat to fix Charlie’s eyes with her own. ‘Forgive my blunt honesty, Charlie, but it is too early in the morning and we have too many pressing matters ta spend hours debating the subject so I will offer ya some words of wisdom as ta why such a thing is not possible. First, Bane is too powerful even for three Keepers. If ya thought fighting Fo Fum was hard, allow me ta assure ya that Bane is a tougher opponent. Tougher by several levels of magnitude. Second, politics will work against us. If Bane is assassinated without crushing the clockwork of his government we risk a power vacuum that could be filled by another shadowy figure. Mr Crow perhaps? Or one of his generals? Wot if someone else takes up the rudder and navigates his armies towards us? We would be back at square one. No, if we wish ta ensure the safety of the realm and of Sylvaris we must approach dis problem from a different angle.’

  ‘So wot are we going ta do?’ muttered Kelko.

  ‘We stick with our original goal. We must free the Winged Ones. Only they are strong enough ta crush Bane and broker peace across the land. And ta that end we must discuss how we, or rather ya Keepers, will use the pendant.’

  Charlie’s brain raced.

  She was well aware that her pendant could be used to release the Winged Ones. However, Charlie did not have the pendant with her. It had been given to her best friend, Nibbler, a young and cheeky Winged One who had managed to escape from the Winged Realm before Bane had had it sealed.

  Nibbler and her other close friends Jensen the Willow and Crumble Shard had, at the height of yesterday’s battle, been sent via a Keeper’s Portal as an advance party to scout the countryside near the Winged Mount. They had been given the task of finding the place known as the Serpent’s Tail. This mysterious location was thought to hide a secret Gateway to which the pendant was the key. Bane had blocked the main Gateway to the Winged Realm but, anticipating this, the Winged Ones had had the foresight to put in place a secondary Gateway, a hidden path that could only be opened with the pendant originally entrusted to Charlie’s parents. With her parents imprisoned in Bane’s Tapestry, the burden of finding it had fallen upon Charlie’s shoulders.

  So Dridif must want Charlie to help find the Gateway. A flutter of excitement coursed through her at the thought of she and Kelko being reunited with their friends. It was the only blessing to arrive with the otherwise terrible news. She looked up to find Dridif staring at her.

  ‘Hold yer horses, Charlie,’ said Dridif.

  ‘What?’ Charlie fidgeted in her chair. She could tell that Dridif had been reading her like an open book. ‘How do you do that? Know what I’m thinking before I say anything?’

  The old lady harrumphed. ‘Ya don’t get ta me age or reach me position in the Jade Circle without learning a thing or two. Charlie, I’m sorry ta tell ya dis but I’m splitting ya from yer friends.’

  Charlie groaned. Could things get any worse?

  4

  Outnumbered

  The Shades rushed through the camp, slashing and biting at the Tremen unfortunate enough to still be tangled in their blankets and bedding. Their hunting shrieks mingled with the Tremen’s cries of shock.

  The cacophony of noise was deafening. The slaughter horrible. And still the sun shone as bright and cheery as on any other day, illuminating the scene clearly, allowing the horror to unfold with crystal clarity.

  ‘Up! Get up!’ screamed Jensen, determined to be heard over the din. ‘Sword and axe! Ta arms and defend yerselves!’

  Slamming his sword to the front, he parried a frenzied attack, then buried his weapon to the hilt in the shuddering flesh of his adversary. He wrenched his blade free and brought it up in time to slice another Shade nearly in two.

  Feeling cold breath on his shoulders and the scrabble of claws on his back, he hastily spun round.

  FFFFZZZZKKKRR!

  There was a blinding flash of blue and a tortured shriek of agony.

  Nibbler growled and pawed at the smoking remains of Jensen’s would-be killer before flashing his friend a wry smile.

  ‘Better watch that back of yours,’ he said, flapping his wings so he could rear and kick at the air. ‘I can’t be everywhere at once!’ And as if to prove his point he let loose another chain of lightning at two Shades attempting to sneak up on Jensen.

  ‘Me thanks!’ Jensen allowed himself
a second to smile but his expression faltered as he saw a group of Tremen and Crumble Shard, Charlie’s Stoman friend, about to be overwhelmed by a shrieking, hissing pack of Shades. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another wave of Shades rushing into the camp. ‘Sweet Sap, Nibbler, sort out that mess!’ He pointed towards the group of Shades around Crumble Shard. ‘I’ll attend ta the rest. Go!’

  Nibbler burst forward, a shower of sparks dancing around his feet as his talons scraped the ground. Jensen, with his sword at the ready, raced off in the other direction.

  ‘Are we Tremen or goats?’ he screamed at the dazed and shell-shocked Tremen. ‘Carry the attack back at them!’

  Hearing the weight of authority behind his words, the Tremen regained their senses. With a bellow of rage, they grasped weapons and swiftly closed ranks to form a shield wall. Shafts of lightning spat from behind the group as Nibbler harassed the remaining Shades.

  ‘Ha! Ya black-livered lumps of fat!’ cried an enraged Treman. ‘Come at us now if ya dare! Come at us –’

  His cry faltered as the sun rose even higher to reveal a long line of Stoman soldiers around their camp. Spear points and hooked axes glinted nastily in the dawn light.

  ‘Oh, Sweet Sap,’ muttered the previously enraged Treman, a look of horror on his face. ‘We’re for it now.’

  The Stomen were not only far larger than the Tremen, they also outnumbered them.

  But that was not the end of the bad news.

  The ranks of the Stomen parted smoothly to reveal a party of Stonesingers garbed in ornate armour. Green flames of power flickered around their shoulders and danced down their arms. The Stonesingers stamped forward, chanting nastily. Hands raised, they gestured at the ground. With a rumble, the stone snapped apart in a zigzagging fissure that snaked towards the Tremen, forcing them to jump aside.

  Still singing, the Stonesingers pointed towards the fissure and began to call something forth.