“Can’t we take the arrow out?” Aidan asked, blinking away tears.
“Nay, lad,” responded the Captain softly. “That would do more harm than good.”
“Is there nothing we can do? No remedy or medicine?” Kaliam pleaded.
“The poison has already found my heart,” the Captain replied.
“But weep not, Aidan! Soon, I will go and join the King, my wife, my mother and father and, at last, be among those in the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun.”
“It’s all my fault! I should have gotten free sooner! I tried, but the armor wouldn’t come free.” Aidan groaned. He looked at the glistening blood on his trembling hands. It was not his own blood, but he felt it should have been. “Captain, you shouldn’t have saved me! Alleble needs you . . . more than me.”
For a moment, the Captain returned to his fiery, cantankerous self. He stared Aidan straight in the eye.
“Sir Aidan, thou tottering, beetle-brained lummox! How dare you measure yourself against another! No one who follows the King of Alleble is greater or lesser than the other. We are all equal in the King’s eyes!”
“But, I’m just a kid, and you, you’re a mighty knight, the Captain of Alleble’s armies!” Aidan argued. “You’ve won countless battles for the King!”
“I have lost more battles than I have won, as the King measures victory,” sighed the Captain, putting his hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “And any glory in battle belongs to King Eliam, for it was his might in me that led to every victorious deed. His unyielding strength . . . is within you now as well.”
With a groan the Captain closed his eyes, and it seemed a great effort for him to speak again. “Now, Aidan, Kaliam, listen to me closely . . . I have but little time to remain. You must not despair, for our mission did not fail, and it is . . . not . . . over . . . yet!”
“But, Captain . . . ,” Kaliam objected. “Mithegard is in ruins—”
“Yes, young Kaliam,” the Captain interrupted. “Mithegard the city is destroyed, and yet . . . many of the Mithegardian Glimpses are now allied with the true King, and that is a victory worthy of a new scroll in the great Story of Alleble! Before that chapter is written, however, there is much work to be done. Kaliam, there must be survivors still hiding in Mithegard. Many of the cottages have underground shelters—if memory serves—so stay here and do not rest until every last Glimpse is found. I do not know how many of the twelve survived. I thought Mallik, Farix, and the twins were yet alive. Find whom you can. Then, lead those who are willing to the safety of Alleble.”
“Aye, Sir!” replied Kaliam, standing up. The Captain had given him a new mission to accomplish and with it, a new hope.
“And you, Sir Aidan . . . ,” said the Captain, his voice weak and congested. “You must rescue Gwenne and—”
“Gwenne?!” Aidan interrupted, unexpected hope pulsing in his heart. “She’s alive?”
“Yes, lad, . . . she was captured by Rucifel . . . hundreds of Mithegard’s citizens and soldiers were taken captive as well. Even now they are traveling at speed to the Gates of Despair.”
“Was King Ravelle captured as well?”
“If I know my s—” The Captain’s body shuddered, and he coughed. “I . . . I cannot imagine Ravelle allowing himself to be captured alive, and yet, I did not see him here among the dead . . . I cannot say,” his voice trailed off. His eyes fixed on a point beyond Aidan for a moment, but then he blinked and spoke again.
“In any case, you must hurry! You must catch them when they make their first camp, for once they cross the border into Paragory, all hope for their rescue will be lost!”
“But Captain,” Kaliam spoke, “our dragon steeds, they are all slain.”
“How can I catch up to them?” Aidan protested, feeling more like a pudgy, slowpoke teenager than a battle-tested Alleb Knight. “They have a huge head start, and I don’t have a dragon—or even a unicorn to ride!”
Captain Valithor had closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, struggling against the pain to think.
“. . . And even if I could find a moonrascal’s tunnel heading in the right direction, there’s no guarantee it would come out where I need to go.”
But when Aidan mentioned tunnels, the Captain’s eyes snapped open. “There is a way,” he announced. “Kaliam!”
“Sir?” answered Pathfinder, kneeling again next to the Captain.
“You know the way to Falon’s Stair?”
“Yes . . . but—”
“Show Sir Aidan the way. If my guess is correct, the Army of Paragory will make camp upon the plains of the Black Crescent. If Sir Aidan travels Falon’s Stair and through the underground labyrinth, it will bring him up behind the enemy’s camp!”
“But, Captain,” Kaliam objected, “that’s suicide! No one who enters Falon’s domain ever comes out again!”
“Who is Falon?” Aidan asked.
Captain Valithor, his voice thin and distant, replied, “Falon is a creature, the greatest of all mortiwraiths. She lives in a stone maze beneath the mountain—”
“You mean I need to go where a mortiwraith lives?!” Aidan blurted out. He knew as much as he needed to know about morti-wraiths. He was watching just a touch of its venom slowly draining the Captain of life.
“Falon lives in this maze, but she does not slay those of pure heart for sport. And . . . she owes me a favor. Many years ago, I came across a rank of Paragor Knights who had captured one of Falon’s wraithlings. They were beating the young creature with clubs, trying to kill it so they could harvest its poison. I rescued it and returned it to Falon. She vowed to repay me someday. Today is that day! It is the only hope of getting to Gwenne and the others from Mithegard in time.”
“Let me go instead!” argued Kaliam. “Or at least let us wait until one of our own can go with him.”
“No, Kaliam. Do you see Mallik, Tal . . . anyone?” The Captain gasped, blood trickling from one corner of his mouth. “We have no time to wait. You know what our enemy will do to the prisoners from Mithegard . . . to Gwenne once the Gates of Despair close behind them. And I feel in my heart that this task is meant for Aidan . . . or no one at all. Will you go, Sir Aidan? Will you travel Falon’s Stair?”
An incredible array of thoughts kaleidoscoped in Aidan’s mind. He remembered Gwenne’s description of a mortiwraith: a long, snakelike creature with many sets of clawed feet, and huge jaws filled with flesh-ripping teeth. And Falon was the largest, craftiest mortiwraith to ever live! Aidan could not imagine facing such a creature, but even if he did somehow survive the mortiwraith, what would he do once he came up from underground? It would be Aidan against Lord Rucifel and hundreds— maybe even a thousand—Paragor Knights!
He thought as well about how he had come to such a point— so many pieces had to fall into place to bring him to this exact moment. And none of it was a result of chance.
Aidan thought of Gwenne too. Gwenne had become his best friend. Now she was held captive, destined to be tortured and killed.
“I’ll go,” Aidan declared softly.
Captain Valithor nodded. “Sir Aidan, loyal servant of Alleble, you have truly become a knight on this journey. You will need to become even more as you face the perils that lie ahead of you . . .”
The Captain closed his eyes again and whispered, “When you face Falon, remind her of my name, and . . .” He placed Aidan’s hand on the hilt of the sword called Fury. “Show her this sword. She will be reminded of a favor I once did for her when my beard was more brown than gray. Tell her it is your sword now . . . and the favor must then be repaid to you.”
Aidan looked down at the sword. No blood could mar its shining blue blade, for it gleamed just as brightly as it did the first time Aidan saw it hanging in Alleble’s armory. But he didn’t want the sword. Not this way. He wanted Captain Valithor’s wound to heal.
“Sir Aidan,” Captain Valithor spoke again, barely audible, “though you will face many trials by yourself . . . you are never alone.”
Tear
s flowed freely down Aidan’s cheeks. Valithor, the noble Captain of the Elder Guard, was gone from his body—gone to live forever with King Eliam in the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun.
Though Aidan knew that precious seconds were ticking away, he needed a final moment with the fallen hero. Captain Valithor had been tough on Aidan, very tough. But he had trained Aidan well and made a fearful teenager into a confident Knight of Alleble. Then, in a sacrifice Aidan thought he would never understand, the Captain had stepped in front of a deadly shaft meant for Aidan.
Aidan found his own sword, the Son of Fury, and placed it on the Captain’s chest. Aidan gently crossed the Captain’s arms over the short sword.
Then, with both hands, Aidan picked up the mighty blade called Fury and placed it in his own sheath. It was heavy, and the tip of the blade would drag on the ground at times, but he would wear it with honor. Aidan hoped he could accomplish something to justify the gift.
Kaliam gestured to Aidan that it was time to go, but Aidan let his eyes linger on the Captain just a little longer. The fierce expression always worn by the Captain, even the pain from the fatal wound, had faded in death.
He now looked peaceful and relaxed—more like he was sleeping.
In fact, Aidan was reminded of his grandfather when he used to fall sound asleep in his wheelchair. In some ways, Captain Valithor looked much like Grampin. Very much like him indeed . . . Then Aidan realized, from the moment the Captain thundered into Alleble’s courtyard to address the knights, his piercing blue eyes flashing, Aidan had always felt there was something familiar about him. And now he knew. Captain Valithor was the Glimpse of his grandfather.
Aidan felt a heavy weight upon his heart, for he realized what the Captain’s death meant. “Good-bye, Grampin,” Aidan said quietly as he and Kaliam walked away.
28
FALON’S STAIR
Those lonely peaks rise steadily into the Black Crescent range and then, eventually, to the Prince’s Crown,” Kaliam said as he led Aidan south of Mithegard and pointed to a dark, curling mountain range.
Aidan knew the path he would need to take already. “Gwenne and I came that way.”
“So then, did you see the gate hewn into the mountain? That is the entrance to Falon’s Stair.”
“No, um, the way we came, we kind of shot past it, I think.”
Kaliam stooped to the ground. “It is clear that the Army of Paragory traveled west to go around the mountains. Captain Valithor is right; they will camp inside the Crescent. But you will not follow, Sir Aidan. You shall continue north and find the entrance to Falon’s Stair. You will need to run, if there is to be any hope. The Black Crescent is a full two leagues from here.”
“Have you ever been there, in Falon’s Labyrinth?” Aidan asked, swallowing hard.
“What, me? In the mortiwraith’s lair? Nay, Sir Aidan. I have traversed many paths in my time, but that is one trail I have avoided. And if I had not heard it from the Captain’s own lips, I should never let you pass that way either!”
Aidan shook his head in agreement. Favor or not, Aidan didn’t want anything to do with a mortiwraith.
“This, then, is farewell,” said Kaliam, holding out his hand to Aidan. “I need to return with haste to Mithegard.”
“Before you go, Kaliam . . . may I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Back on the Grimwalk, when the Tempest came, how did you and the other knights escape? I mean, Gwenne and I jumped into a moonrascal hole!”
“Dragons,” replied Kaliam. “Just like that traitor Acsriot, only it was the King of Alleble who sent the dragons for us! The storm forced us to fly east of the Cold River. Finally, when the winds and snow had stopped, we flew back to the Grimwalk. We too wondered what had become of you—we searched for you through the night, in fact!”
Aidan shook his head.
“I hope we shall meet again,” said Kaliam. “You are a valiant lad, Sir Aidan, and a true servant of Alleble. Remember . . . never alone!”
“Never alone!” Aidan replied, though in truth he had never felt more alone in his life.
Kaliam sped off, backtracking to Mithegard, and Aidan turned and looked across the fields with their humps of purple moss. Two leagues, Kaliam had said. Aidan didn’t know how long a league was, but he knew it was long enough.
King Eliam, Aidan called out in his mind. If ever I have needed your strength and your help, it is now.
Aidan took off. He ran at full sprint, but after only a hundred yards or so, his heart crashed against his rib cage, and he found himself gasping for air. This isn’t working, he thought, and he stopped.
Reluctantly, Aidan stripped off his armor. Off went what was left of the shoulder harness, off went the breastplate, the vambraces— even the couters! When Aidan was finished, all he had left was his tunic and his breeches. He removed Fury, still in its sheath, and carried it by hand.
Then, Aidan took flight—or at least it felt like flying. Removing all that heavy metal made a huge difference, and Aidan ran light on his feet.
Aidan rocketed across the fields, driven by thoughts of Gwenne in danger. How he would rescue Gwenne if he somehow emerged from beneath the mountains, he had no idea, but he resigned himself that, if need be, he would die trying.
As he ran, he thought too of his friend Robby back in Maryland.
Aidan remembered a conversation he and Robby had shared the night before Aidan left for Colorado. It was a troubling conversation, full of anger and fear. Robby had asked Aidan hard questions. They were questions that Aidan could not answer . . . then.
“When I was ten, my parents started fightin’,” Robby had said, staring at the floor and wringing his hands continuously.“Dad’d complain about the house or the money. Then, Momma’d be upset that he was never around. I mean, they’d just holler at each other, callin’ each other things and slammin’ doors. I got so scared sometimes, I hid in my closet until they stopped. After a while . . . it got even worse. Then, one night my Dad didn’t come home—haven’t seen him since. Don’t even know if he’s still alive. It doesn’t make any sense, Aidan. Is this how life’s supposed to be?”
“What do you mean?” Aidan had asked.
“I mean, first I lose my dad. Now I’m losin’ my best friend.It’s like life is some cruel joke. Doesn’t seem like things ever work out for anybody, especially me.”
“It’s not that bad,” Aidan replied hollowly. He was instantly reminded of his father attempting to explain how great moving would be.
“It’s not?!” Robby objected bitterly. “Then, tell me . . . why do awful things like this happen? Why’d my dad take off ? Why do you have to move? Why do all those horrible things on the evening news have to happen?”
That night, Aidan had nothing to say. But now Aidan had all the answers Robby needed to hear. But who will tell him, Aidan wondered . . . if I don’t survive?
Spurred by the fear that no one would tell Robby—or Aidan’s own mom and dad for that matter—the truth about Alleble, about the reality of The Realm, Aidan reached deep within himself and found a gear he did not know he had. He traversed the final mile of the journey at top speed. The dark mountains of the Black Crescent loomed in front of him.
At the base of the mountain, some fifty yards away, a small but obvious cavelike entrance gouged the smooth face of rock. Aidan threw away his sheath, took Fury in both hands, and approached.
The entrance had no door, fence, or gate of any kind. It was simply a rectangular opening cut right into the side of the mountain. On a large stone next to the entrance was carved an odd and unnerving poem. Aidan read it to himself and shivered.
Ye have come to Falon’s Stair,
But enter not ye unaware,
For better men than thee have fled.
They that entered soon were dead.
The darkness spins your mind with fright,
As you descend into her night.
Beyond the steps the labyrinth waits,
With dangers untold and treasures great.
Know ye this as ye travel the maze:
Lest ye fall under Falon’s gaze,
There is one path alone to the light of day.
And death will come if ye lose your way.
With considerable dread, Aidan looked into the opening. The diminishing late-afternoon sun provided just enough light for him to see that Falon’s Stair actually was a spiral staircase. It curled down and in before disappearing into darkness.
This was no spooky legend or an imaginary boogeyman. To step down would be to enter a living nightmare. Either Aidan faced almost-certain death under these dark mountains or he turned back, allowing the wretched Knights of Paragor to take Gwenne and the others into a nightmarish land of torment and pain. Aidan took a deep breath. He simply could not allow his friend and other innocent Glimpses to die while he did nothing.
“Never alone,” he said aloud, and he stepped out of the waning sunlight into the darkness of Falon’s Stair.
Aidan held Fury out in front and began to descend. It was some comfort to have such a mighty blade as Fury with him. Even so, he took each step cautiously, stopping from time to time to listen for anything that might be traveling up the steps to meet him. Soon, the last glimmer of faint light was gone, and Aidan found himself in the deepest darkness he had yet encountered.
Of course, the moonrascal tunnels were dark too, but they seemed almost cheerful compared to the smothering black that surrounded Aidan now.
Holding the sword up as best he could with one hand, Aidan used the other hand to feel his way along the cold stone wall of the stair. What was that? He stopped. Aidan was certain he’d heard something down the stairs move just slightly. Aidan’s heart hammered away, and he used every last ounce of hearing ability, straining to pick up the sound again.
The Door Within Page 20