Moss Gate

by Alex Linwood

  “You are allowed to speak to these charges. What say you?” King Magnus asked the man.

  The man flexed his jaw and stared forward resolutely, neither speaking nor acknowledging the king. One of the guards stepped forward, his staff raised to strike at the back of the man’s knees, but the king’s hand stopped him.

  “You will answer me,” the king said.

  Again the man said nothing.

  King Magnus sighed and then stood up. He sang in a soft musical tone, a melody Portia could barely hear, even standing so close. But despite its quietness, she could feel the power emanating from the king. Magic flowed from him, directed to the man. Portia felt its strength in the back of her neck and arms.

  The man widened his stance but it was no use. A force pulled him down to his knees. He hit the floor hard with his knees and nearly fell completely over but pushed himself back up. He was unable to raise a leg to stand so was stuck kneeling in front of the king. The man finally no longer towered over the crowd. They drew close to see him despite the warning looks from the king’s advisors.

  The king stopped singing, but unlike other times when Portia had witnessed elf magic, the tingle of the casting continued even when the melody stopped. The throne behind the king hummed, resonating with the tune the king had been singing. The hollows in its carved wood held the notes much longer than would have naturally been possible.

  The king walked up to the man, facing him from mere inches away. He said softly, “Answer my question. What say you about this young lady?”

  The man’s mouth opened, and he gagged. Words were coming from him despite his trying to swallow them back. He glared at the king, fury in his eyes. Finally, he could prevent himself from speaking no longer and the words gushed out. “I don’t know that girl. But I suspect she is a Jack. She endangers us all, just as this kingdom does with its failure to recognize the glory of the coming of the others.”

  One of the guards could take this no longer and struck the man in the back of the head with his staff. The king held up his hand to prevent further blows.

  “Tell us of this glory,” the king said.

  “The golden age is coming. You, and all here, are fools. You would stop it. The golden age must not be stopped and must be welcome. All those who oppose it must be deposed.” Spittle ran down the side of the man’s face. He was shaking, but from fighting the magic or from the depth of his hatred, Portia could not tell.

  “You speak of treason,” King Magnus said softly.

  The room was quiet. All onlookers held their breath, waiting for the man’s response.

  The man looked around wildly, as if for the first time, the whites of his eyes showing. He struggled to shut his mouth, but it flew open again. He put his hands over his mouth, trying to keep from speaking, but with one motion from the king his hands were magically forced down. His words came once again against his will. “It is treason to resist the golden age. It is treason to allow a Jack to live. I am not the one committing treason—you are. You will all perish soon. This kingdom will crumble, as it should.”

  The king turned from the man and walked back to his throne. With one motion from his hand the sound coming from his throne stopped as he sat down. He eyed the shaking man from his vantage point. Finally he turned to the guards around the witnesses. “Take this man to the dungeons. We will tease the rest of this out later.” But he held up one finger to stop the guards. “There is perhaps one question that must be answered now. Are you a member of the cult Sergeant Lyren speaks of?”

  “It is the order of the righteous. It is no cult. We are the rightful heirs of the golden age.” The man thrust out his chin defiantly.

  King Magnus nodded and waved for the prisoner to be taken away.

  It took four guards to control him. They roughly hauled the man to his feet and dragged him from the room. He struggled the entire way. The watching elves drew back from the struggling man and watched him until the door was shut behind.

  Portia realized she was shaking. The king’s power was formidable, no matter how young he looked.

  As soon as the doors shut behind the prisoner the elves in the room began speaking. Nobles were yelling for the man to be executed and for all humans to be removed from the kingdom. Portia’s stomach tightened at the anger and loathing she heard when the word human was used by those around her. She looked to Sergeant Lyren to see if she should be concerned, but the sergeant was unperturbed.

  Lady Harper calmly gazed out at the crowd.

  Portia concentrated on her breathing. If those two were not concerned, then perhaps all would be well.

  The king let the muttering go on. Once again he seemed to be looking through the crowd and looking for individual reactions. Nothing seemed to bother him. The queen was checking the reactions of those around her as well. She stopped looking, contented, before the king did and stared ahead. She waited patiently for him to speak.

  Finally, the king held up one hand and the muttering ceased. “You have heard the evidence regarding our young friend here, Portia Harris. Based on the evidence, I am ruling that she is a Friend of the Elves. She has the right to all the rights of a Friend of the Elves, and she will be given the honor and respect as such.”

  A few angry yells greeted this pronouncement. One nobleman went so far as to step forward and call in the king’s direction. “She should be banished, as should all humans, based on what we just heard. We have no way of knowing if she is any different from that man. All humans are the same.”

  King Magnus fixed his gaze on the noble, who stopped speaking. The elves cleared around him and he was on his own in front of the king. His face turned red and he stepped back, trying to bow and get out of the circle of attention, but it was useless, for when he backed up the crowd retreated as well, and he was still standing alone.

  “Your concerns are heard, Lord Wellesley,” the king said.

  The elf swallowed at the mention of his name. He bowed his head and said nothing further.

  “However, the clock will strike soon. We do not have the liberty to debate forever. If this girl can help in our fight, we owe it to ourselves to make use of the opportunity presented to us,” the king said. “Does anyone else wish to speak against Portia Harris with a specific complaint? Do any know her well enough to speak against her?” The king looked around for others with objections, but no one dared step forward. The silence held in the room for several breaths.

  Finally, the king waved his hand. “Very well. You are dismissed. Leave.”

  The room emptied from the back, the noble elves and advisors filing out the two sets of double doors there. Portia moved to leave with them, but Lady Harper held her back with one hand. She also held back Sergeant Lyren, who turned in surprise at Lady Harper’s hand.

  “Your exemplary service might be needed in the future, so you should see this,” Lady Harper said to Sergeant Lyren, whose eyes flickered to the king. “By royal request.”

  Sergeant Lyren nodded at this, a pleased smile flicking on her face and quickly disappearing again.

  The only others remaining were Queen Ceola and several guards. All others had left, including the senior advisors. Portia had never seen the human queen and king consort in Coverack without their advisors nearby.

  When the last of the nobles exited the room and the doors were shut behind them, King Magnus turned to Portia. “What I’ve heard here publicly, and privately as well, about you is impressive. Welcome to our kingdom, young Jack Portia.”

  Portia stammered and blushed. She didn’t think she would ever get used to being addressed by royalty. “Thank you.” Curiosity burned in her stomach, and she forced herself to be brave and speak. “You Highness, what clock are you talking about?”

  Her face burned red, knowing she should not have volunteered the question, but she hoped she would be forgiven as a human who didn’t know proper protocol. Lady Harper sighed at her brazenness.

  But the king merely stood and motioned for the others to follow him
. He led them deep into the castle, past the rooms of plaster and lathe and paint. They went into passages that were carved of rock, with the limbs of trees and tree trunks growing through them. The outside of the castle looked like any other building, but the inside connected into underground passages seamlessly; there was no sharp boundary between building and cave. She wondered if the castle was just the tip of the massive structure extending far below.

  Finally, they reached the end of a long dark hallway. It was lit with torches. The smoke from the torches wafted up to the ceiling and, looking up, she could see small pinpricks of light where shafts had been placed to provide fresh air. Two of the guards with them went to the door ahead and opened it. Just inside, there was another set of doors. This time, only the king approached. He pulled a key from his belt and placed it on the lock holding the two doors shut. It didn’t look like a normal key but rather something magical, for he placed it on the lock after which a loud click sounded within the doors. The king stepped back, and the doors swung open on their own.

  Inside was a huge cavern as large as the throne room. The walls sparkled and shone in the dim light. At first, Portia thought it was water flowing down the curved walls, but a closer look revealed gems and gold flakes embedded within the stone walls themselves. The walls curved up to the ceiling where the roots of a gigantic tree raced across the ceiling in all directions. Directly below the tree above them, in the center of the cavern, sat a gigantic hourglass. It was twice as tall as Portia and half again as wide. The glass containing the sand was warped and wavy and not completely clear. Instead, it shimmered in a subtle rose color. The hourglass looked like a gigantic flower nestled in the middle of the room.

  Portia stepped closer. The sand was not flowing evenly: sometimes it stopped, the sand held motionless in the air, and other times it flowed backwards, racing back up through the narrow center of the hourglass to rejoin the sand at the top. She turned back to the group. Lady Harper was not surprised, nor was Sergeant Lyren. Everyone knew what the hourglass was except her.

  King Magnus stepped forward towards the glass. “This clock tells us the time until the next splintering.”

  Portia’s mouth fell open as she looked back at the gigantic structure. “Then you know when it will happen.”

  “Vaguely. We can read it to within a year. At least that is the best guess of our mages, for it has only been tested by the last splintering, when it was constructed in desperation.”

  Portia knew the last splintering was when humans had arrived. She swallowed at the reminder of the bitter history between humans and elves.

  “It tells us that the splintering is close,” the king said. “That is why Lady Harper was sent to Coverack. I admit surprise that she returned with you, but if we are to have an alliance with the humans, that means we must trust in their techniques. You are one of their strongest techniques from what I have been told.” He glanced at Lady Harper. He must have great trust in the royal envoy indeed. Portia vowed to herself to make it well placed. She had to protect all their lives.

  “Can I… Can I touch it?” Portia asked. The clock pulled at her. She wanted to get closer. She wanted to touch the wooden frame and the glass containing the sand.

  The king nodded permission.

  Portia stepped closer to the clock. She could feel the magic emanating off it. It too was a tool designed to prevent future catastrophe, just as she had been. She felt an affinity for the clock, stuck in a dark cavern and the depths of the castle. With her hand on the glass, she felt vibrations, deeply rhythmic ones. It pulsed as if it were breathing, as if it were alive. She sucked in her breath, surprised.

  The king’s voice brought her back to the group. “But it is running out of time, as are we. If we are to avail ourselves of your help, then you must begin your training immediately. It is not easy. The magic to heal splinters is a specific type of healing magic.” The King stopped speaking, looking around at his guards. He thought for a second then continued on. “Of all the elves so skilled in our kingdom, our best is old. Very old. And he is, of course, an elf.”

  Portia turned at the last statement. She didn’t understand the significance. Of course he was an elf. “Could you not bring him to the splinter with your army as a guard?”

  King Magnus stared at her. Finally, Lady Harper replied. “Jack, knowing what you know of humans, what do you think would happen if the elves brought an army into Haulstatt Kingdom?”

  Portia did not know how to answer that. She didn’t think it would go well. There were few elves in the human kingdom, and even in the capital city of Coverack, the elves were not all that well received. How then would a gigantic force, all armed, be received? At the very least, it would cause panic amongst the humans, if not outright fighting. It would be a distraction against the real danger—the unknown that might come through another splintering. From what she had read of her book, the humans and the elves had been evenly balanced. Neither one was able to overpower the other completely. What if the invaders were not like that? What if they were so powerful that all fell before them?

  No, having a war between humans and elves would be a disaster. They needed to focus on the real danger. The danger of who would come through the gate of the splinter.

  Chapter 14

  They stood in the cavern in silence for a moment watching the sand continue its path through the gigantic hourglass.

  King Magnus nodded at Portia’s sober expression. “A guard would not be well received by the humans, nor would an army. We could negotiate for these things to come to pass, but that would take a great deal of time, and trust that might not ever exist. Even so, we are working on it. Unfortunately, events might not wait for the slow path of diplomacy, nor account for all obstinacy.” He sighed heavily. “But it is good you are a quick one and understand the problem we are facing. You will be staying here in the castle. Quarters are being arranged. Your lessons start tomorrow.”

  He walked away, followed by the queen. Once he was gone, it was only Portia, Sergeant Lyren, and Lady Harper along with a few guards left in the hourglass room.

  Lady Harper smiled at Portia and took her hands in her own—an unusually warm gesture for the elf. “You did it. Well done.”

  “I feel like I haven’t done anything yet,” Portia said.

  “Oh you will. After a few days of lessons, you’ll feel differently,” Sergeant Lyren said, ruefully.

  Portia looked at her quizzically.

  Sergeant Lyren laughed. “This teacher has taught many of us. I will not spoil it by sharing more, except to say rest well tonight, young human.”

  Lady Harper and Portia stayed in the hourglass room a bit longer while Sergeant Lyren left to tend to her duties. Portia placed both hands on the hourglass and felt the humming of the gigantic structure. She thought she could pick out a pattern to it, but every time she was close to deciphering the rhythm, the beat changed. The resonance flowing through the wood and glass was so deep that it felt like it was a rumbling coming from deep within the earth. She wondered if the hourglass was somehow connected to the ground below it.

  A servant came to the door and cleared his throat. “Quarters are ready for the Friend of the Elves,” he said with a bow when they turned to face him.

  He led them through the castle, down long hallways, back into the portion of the castle that was made of glowing red stone instead of the carved walls within the ground. They crossed a large courtyard filled with manicured shrubs and beautiful flowers towards a far tower. Portia looked around. The tower was as far from the castle as it could be and still be on the grounds. Friend of the Elves or not, she was being kept at some distance.

  Lady Harper noticed her gaze. “Yes, this is intentional. But there are advantages to being so far from the main compound. You will also be far from the lords.”

  “Are the lords going to cause me trouble?” Portia asked.

  Lady Harper hesitated, looked around, then spoke quietly. “Our goal is to avoid that. Some might try to int
erfere, but most are simply not used to you yet. You don’t have the time to woo them to your side, so the best thing is to avoid them. You need to concentrate on why you’re here, which is to learn the magic of the healing.”

  Just as quietly, Portia responded, “Very well.” She was glad to be far from the lords. She knew she was not the most diplomatic, and she didn’t wish to expend the energy to try to get them on her side. It cost her too much energy just to do magic.

  They climbed the tower. Portia’s room was at the very top. It was a large circular room that encompassed the whole top of the tower, reached by the circular metal staircase that wound up from below through the floor. She was glad she had some experience with climbing buildings, but even so, the open circular staircase made her stomach jump. It was a long way down. She had to find some rope and keep it on her at all times. There was some wisdom in always having a second escape route available, even in the castle of a king. Or especially so.

  A bed, a desk, and few chairs furnished the room. Portia’s bag hung on a hook on the back of the door. Pulling it close to check its contents, its lightness told her without even looking that it was empty. Portia’s heart beat quickly until she walked to the nearby wardrobe and opened it: all her clothes were inside. The translated book sat on the desk, and her money bag was inside the top drawer. She’d check its contents later, out of sight of the watching servant. The money bag being there surprised her. And worried her too, for she had thought it well hidden within her room at the inn. It was her backup in case the one she carried with her was stolen.

  Lady Harper looked around the room in approval, and then dismissed the servant who had escorted them there. She walked across the room and picked up the book and opened it to the bookmark that Portia had left in it.

  Portia turned her back to Lady Harper to hang her bag up again, straightening and smoothing it unnecessarily. The last time she’d read that book, it told of attacking the elves in the invasion of Coverack itself. “I think that section is about an invasion of Coverack. But the author spoke of the residents being elves,” she said, the last coming out in a rush.