The Complete Four Worlds Series

by Angela J. Ford

  “How do you know this?” Alaireia asked.

  Legone lifted his head. “I looked through the Clyear and I saw the end. Eight portals opened and poison seeped into our land. The Green People are my family, and they are leaving. Soon, it will be just like it was for you, Alaireia, when the Wyvern attached Srinka. Remember, Marklus, how it felt to leave Zikeland when the Zikes awakened? Starman, it is too near, too close, but you know the pain when your family has been taken from you. And Crinte.” His eyes blazed as he turned to Crinte. “What have you possibly lost in all of this? You, our leader, who cannot relate to anything we have been through? What makes you so keen to save the world?”

  Crinte’s eyes shone gold in light of Legone accusation. “Ask yourself,” he said sternly, “why you came down from the mountains to seek my help. Ask yourself why you sought out the last One of the Order of the Wise. Ask yourself, you who speak to animals of the air, who know the words of the old, old song. You saw the worlds align and the stars change, and the portals open and the poison begin. You know more than you have told us. A secret lies heavy on your heart and it is time, now that you are home. It is time to hear the truth."

  Legone turned his furious eyes on Crinte, but before he could utter a retort, the Green People filed into the hall.

  40

  Where The Wind Blows

  After the last meal, a silent affair, the Green People led them to their rooms. Legone stood outside his door, knowing she would come, dreaming she would walk by. At first, he did not hear her approach, but he could sense her presence and his heart began to pound. He turned his head away from her as if he could keep his strength.

  “You left me.” Her words fell to his ears like jeweled droplets falling into a pool of light.

  “You know I had to.” His voice was low. There was no resistance left. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slender green figure. Her pale shimmer had faded, yet she still looked unearthly, standing in her long gown, gazing out the archway at the starless sky. Her aura was wan and sad, and again he recalled her wailing song. “I did not warn them,” he continued after a moment. “And now it has come to this.”

  She straightened and turned to him, and he quickly averted his face. “That is not true, but I did not come to argue.”

  “Why have you come then, Paleidir? The world is ending. You have sung your last song. It’s over.”

  Suddenly, she was in front of him, standing as tall as him as she still gazed up into his face. “Legone, listen to me.” Her delicate voice sent chills through his body. “There is hope. Now that you are here, I will give you all of my power. The time has come for my people to leave this world, but I would wait for you to return. I would fight with you if I could, but since I cannot, everything I have is yours…”

  Before she could continue, he captured her mouth with his and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She leaned into him and responded as if their passion had never thawed through long years of separation.

  When they finally let go both of them were breathing hard. She laid her hands on his chest and looked up at him, her eyes full and questioning. “If I could, I would build a world for just you and I…” Her voice trailed off.

  “No, it is not to be. I will give my life to end this, and you must go seek a better one.”

  “Not without you. I have waited for this day when we would be together again, even just for this moment.”

  He sighed but gently kissed her this time. “Tell me what your people have done and what powers you have to undo it. If this world is destroyed because of what happened here, I cannot forgive myself.”

  “Tomorrow, bring your warriors to where the wind blows, and I will tell you all. Tonight, hold me like you once did when you loved me.”

  “I still love you,” he replied softly.

  She looked at him as if seeing clearly. “I am sorry.” Her voice was no more than a whisper, and she began to shimmer green. He could feel the hum of her power as her hand pressed against his chest. He could feel her remorse seeping into his soul. “I am sorry we did not do right by you. I am sorry for the corruption of my people. I am sorry you saw the dark side of us. But hear this, we have lost everything, and I would not lose you. When this is all over, we will stand side by side and create a new life. You will live through this, and you shall return to me. So I say. So shall it be.”

  He looked down at her in wonder and remembered when they were young and when they first met. He had fallen in love with her strength and beauty. He had not seen the dark side of the Green People, or his eyes were blinded to it. When he realized he had been deceived, he was hurt and disgusted. He vowed to leave and never return, but they had begged him to stay, or at least keep their secret. They had threatened him, and afraid of their great power, he made plans to flee. Before he left, they told him they did not count him as one of their enemies, and if he returned, he would be welcome. It seemed the tables had turned. On his return, he held all the power, and they were ruined.

  “So shall it be,” she repeated, as if daring the silence to rebuke her words.

  She remembered when he had come, and how happy she had been. He smelled of life and wild mountains, and for someone so much different from her people, she could not get enough. She remembered when they had gone to where the wind blows and confessed their love to each other, and she knew she could keep secrets from him no more. Now, as he held her tightly, she bound her words around them and sealed them. This would not be goodbye; that, she would hold onto. Even as she gave her powers away to save his world, she would not exchange his life for her mistake.

  “As you say, so shall it be,” he confirmed. Then, gently, he caressed her cheek and touched his lips to hers again. She responded hungrily, and as they kissed, the years of solitude melted away, and the winds of change began to blow.

  Dawn broke, dark and surely over Shilmi. Marklus woke in the stillness, feeling a twinge on his fingertips. He raised them, touching them gently, but the blue power did not spark. He closed his eyes for a moment and called. Zikes.

  Oh Marklus the Great, we hear, we obey.

  Marklus bolted upright, surprised to finally hear the voices of the Zikes again. He asked the next question in dread and anticipation. Has the bridge been destroyed?

  Yes, the creatures are furious at the delay.

  Marklus breathed a sigh of relief. Meet me at the Great Water Hole.

  He dressed quickly in the clothes the Green People had given him the evening before. The illusive Green People seemed generous and stingy all at the same time; nevertheless, it was gratifying to pull on clothes which were not bloodstained and travel worn. Marklus fastened his quiver securely on his back and walked to where Crinte had slept. Crinte was already dressed and sat on the edge of the bed, fastening his boots. “I sense you have good news,” Crinte said as Marklus dashed in.

  Marklus nodded vigorously, his brown curls flopping on his forehead. “The Zikes have destroyed the bridge. The enemy has been delayed for now.”

  Crinte stood, laying a hand on Marklus’ shoulder. “That is good news indeed. Time is on our side.”

  Marklus lowered his voice. “What do you think of the Green People?”

  “It is hard to tell.” Crinte patted his sword, thankful the Green People had not seen fit to take their weapons away. “They are powerful immortals, but with Swift on our side, I hope they will refrain from doing anything malicious to hold up our progress. If, indeed, Sarhorr the Ruler did spring from here, there must be some left who are still on his side. Swift’s relationship with them is odd. He is still hiding truth from us.”

  “He is angry about what happened here. I don’t think he ever forgave them,” Marklus agreed.

  “There is some guilt.” Crinte opened the door and stuck his head out into the quiet hall. Filters of green light pooled around the archways; otherwise, the darkness persisted.

  “I don’t like it here.” Starman shuddered as he joined Crinte and Marklus. “Are we leaving now?”

&n
bsp; “I believe so,” Crinte replied reassuringly.

  Alaireia walked out of the shadows. Her dark hair hung loose and long behind her. She stood tall and her eyes narrowed. “Where is Swift?”

  Starman went to stand beside her. “We are waiting for him.”

  Alaireia turned to Crinte. “We have learned nothing here…”

  “Yet,” Crinte interrupted. “We have learned nothing here yet.”

  A moment later, Lady Paleidir glided up to them, one hand holding tight to Legone the Swift. “Come with me,” she said. “Before my father and his counselors awake.” Holding a finger to her lips, she turned her beautiful head and led them through passages, away from the ruined castle.

  They walked across the moss carpeted ground into a wood of naked trees, stripped of their leaves with peeling bark. It looked as if someone had taken a knife and attempted to skin them. In the middle of the wood, a hill cut sharply into the landscape. Paleidir led them towards it and a heaviness filled the air as they began to ascend. Dry vines surrounded the base, and when at last they reached the top, it flattened out. The side they had come up remained mossy and green, while on the other side, a black trail led westwards, snaking away into darkness. At the top, Paleidir let go of Legone’s hand and walked to the center. Facing the five, she lifted up her long arms and a green aura began to shimmer. “I see you!” she exclaimed in her musical voice. “You are The Five Warriors. Now, let go of the fears that stay your hands and the sorrows that weigh you down. Go into the west and vanquish all who stand before you.”

  As she spoke, a rustling in the forest began, and it seemed the voices of the innocent dead rushed around her, causing the wind to whip up. At first, it was only a soft breeze, but quickly it increased, turning to a full blown storm. The five closed their eyes and lifted their faces to the wind as it blew. There was something healing in its winds, and even as Legone’s hair whipped around his face, he could feel his ribs pop back into place, and his foot no longer stung when he placed weight on it. The pounding in Starman’s head receded, and when he lifted his hand to touch the scab from his head wound, smooth skin had already covered it. Alaireia felt the fear of the power of the Clyear fade, and although she was forgiven for what she had done, she knew she would never control the Clyear in the same way again. Marklus had felt it when he first woke, but now he felt it again with a surety: the burden of carrying the power of life and death was no longer his. But it was Crinte who moved past the wind storm and stood in front of Paleidir. She was slightly taller than him and looked down, her large eyes sorrowful.

  “Crinte, last One of the Order of the Wise,” she said curiously. “You have taken it upon yourself to be the leader because of the immortals and the words of an old prophecy. You seek to fulfill a purpose that is not your own. You know the paths, you can see your way clearly, but you do not have my trust, and that unsettles you. Ask of me.”

  “How?” he asked. “How must we stop Sarhorr the Ruler?”

  Paleidir’s eyes grew dark and the winds blew even stronger. “How indeed. There was once a Cron who searched for knowledge and looked too deeply into the creation of the world, and the immortals of the air sequestered him away. It is he you should have searched for, and he you should have asked all things. Alas, for you were tricked with a gift, a gift of invincibility and blindness, which is why you are the last. I tell you this: All beings have two forms, a physical and spiritual form. If you force the Ruler into his spiritual form and trap it, you can then destroy him. I have heard he transforms people groups into warrior creatures. It is through those transformative waters he can be destroyed.”

  “How do we force him into his spiritual form?”

  Paleidir looked at him. “Sarhorr the Ruler was my brother. He took spiritual form coming through the portal and stealing power from our mother. We had nothing to trap him with then, but the pursuit of power is his one—and only—weakness. He is drawn to it, and what your warriors carry are a sure beacon, alerting him of your coming.”

  For a moment, Crinte could see with her eyes, and their visions were aligned. He saw the outrage and fear, the strife the dark creature, Sarhorr, awoke. He saw the disputes that broke out regarding his transgressions. Most of all, he saw how the most powerful immortals remained powerless in their own moment of need. “I see,” he replied.

  Paleidir placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Crinte the Wise, you are the leader. You hold something powerful that will help you, though you are reluctant to use it. You already know what to do.” She turned him towards the black path and gently pushed him away before he could ask another question. As she did so, Crinte felt she had passed him a token of her power. He walked down the hill without a backward glance, his footsteps sure and steady.

  Paleidir locked her gaze on Marklus, who walked forward as the winds threatened to blow him over. “Marklus the Healer,” she greeted him. She placed her hands on his head. “All has not been well with you in the past, but that has changed.”

  Marklus wanted to say something, to explain, but he felt intimidated by the voices of power he could hear around him.

  She turned him towards the path Crinte had taken. “All is well with you.” She pushed him away and a burst of energy snapped between them.

  The winds turned on Starman and Alaireia, pulling them together into the center of the hilltop. Paleidir gently wrapped her arms around their shoulders. She looked first at Alaireia. “I never thought it would come to this, but my world has been destroyed. I will never see either of you again. Remember, although you may be tested as you descend into the evil of the Great Water Hole, your hearts are strong, and you will know when to make the right choices.”

  “What do you mean, ‘tested’?” Starman asked, alarmed.

  Paleidir turned to him. “All quests take a toll on the people who seek to set things right. Unfair as it is, sometimes life is demanded to pay the debt. I do not know all that will happen, but you were willing to give all before you joined this quest, and all may be required of you.”

  She pushed them away from her. “But sometimes,” she called as they walked down the black path, “all is not so bad after all.”

  Starman reached for Alaireia’s hand and did not let go as they descended into the darkness.

  Paleidir turned towards Legone, her arms wide open. He walked to her and she spoke to him in the language of the Green People, and he replied, holding her tightly. She pulled away as the winds grew stronger. “Do you understand what you must do?” she asked.

  He nodded, reluctant to leave. “I am glad, at least, I got to see you, before the beginning of the end.” He let go of her hand as her face fell. “We cannot always win,” he told her, stepping backwards. “We should pay for what we have done.”

  “Legone,” she whispered.

  “Goodbye,” he replied.

  She moved forward, her eyes wet with tears. “Come back to me.” She reached out a hand, but the wind blew her back. As Legone disappeared down the black road, she lifted her arms to the wind and let loose a chilling wail.

  41

  The Esife Peaks

  Pools of dark water glistened in the dim light. Shady colors swam back and forth, rippling the surface every now and then. Coal back stones crunched under their feet as the five walked out of the dead forest, three days later. Before them lay a stretch of black, lifeless land, leading to mountains. Crinte pointed. “At last, the Esife Peaks.”

  Sharp cliffs reached up for the sky, and a thin river ran between the pools of dark water, leading upwards into the mountains.

  “What is that smell?” Starman frowned, pinching his nose shut.

  “It could be the stagnant water,” Marklus suggested.

  “Watch your footing,” Crinte warned them as he led the way forward. He peered into the first deep pool he reached. The stench of foul water reached his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose. Shadows stirred underneath the waters and he saw a scaly back pass close to the surface. “There are
strange reptiles in the water,” Crinte added. “Let’s hope our passage does not disturb them.”

  It was impossible not to walk close to the pools of water as they dotted the open ground before the cliffs, almost as if warning travelers to turn back.

  Crinte was reminded of his vision, and when he looked east, he saw one side of the forest was black and dead. The other was a green haze, but soon to be swept into blackness.

  “Whatever those creatures are in the water, they are moving faster now,” Marklus cautioned as he listened.

  Starman drew his sword immediately as he discreetly walked behind Marklus. Legone pulled an arrow from his quiver and fitted it loosely into his bow, ready for action.

  Crinte paused midway through the pools of water as a long snout poked out from one of the pools ahead of him. A creature made its way onto shore, pulling its scaly, muddy green body out of the dark water and turning towards Crinte. “Crocodiles!” Crinte called as he drew his sword.

  Even as the words left his mouth, olive snouts peeked up from each pool and the crocodiles began to move forward, circling the five and cutting off their route to the mountains.

  “Crocodiles are only fast in marshy areas. Once we reach the mountains, they will be unable to follow up,” Alaireia called.

  “That doesn’t help us right now!” Starman groaned.

  “Right,” Crinte replied as he strode forward confidently.

  The crocodile in front of him turned and snapped its jaws warningly. When Crinte did not stop, it charged, moving with uncanny speed over the black ground. Its long snout hung open, displaying gleaming rows of sharp, white teeth. At the last moment, it turned, swinging its long tail and knocking Crinte off his feet. Crinte slammed into the ground, surprised, the wind knocked out of him. But the crocodile was already advancing, its mouth open as it clawed its way up his legs. An arrow bounced off its scaly back but Crinte had the presence of mind to bring his sword up. Right before the creature’s snout contacted his face, Crinte stabbed his blade into the crocodile’s open mouth. There was a harsh, grinding sound as teeth screeched across the blade. The creature hissed and backed away in pain, allowing Crinte to stumble to his feet. Sensing defeat, the crocodile slithered back into the pool to nurse its injuries, but two more lay waiting in Crinte’s path. “Watch out for their tails,” Crinte shouted back to the others, slightly embarrassed at his lack of footing.