Fire Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  “How could you say a thing like that?”

  “What choice did I have? He needed to know the truth.”

  “He needed to have hope. You killed that.”

  From somewhere nearby came a series of heavy thuds and the sound of clashing metal. Marcus opened his eyes to see the star-filled sky. He turned his head and found Tankum and Graehl standing chest to chest. Both had their swords drawn, and though the warrior was surely the stronger of the two, he was clearly using all of his strength to force back Graehl’s blade. Master Therapass stood a few feet away, looking confused and unsure.

  “Stop . . . it,” Marcus said. His mouth and throat were filled with a sour, acidic taste, and he wondered if he’d thrown up.

  Graehl and Tankum turned to look at him, although neither lowered his weapon.

  “You heard him,” Riph Raph said at Marcus’s side. “Stop fighting.”

  Slowly the two men stepped away from each other. Tankum slid his twin curved swords into the sheaths on his back. A moment later, Graehl put away his weapon as well—although it was clear by his upper lip, pulled back over his teeth in a tight snarl, that he was ready to draw it again at a second’s notice.

  Marcus turned to Master Therapass and tried to sit up, his head wobbling like a top about to fall over. He reached out to touch Riph Raph’s scaled back. “Is it true? Is Kyja really . . . dead?”

  The wizard tugged at his beard, his face looking like he’d spent the last two days taking one blow after another.

  “The truth,” Graehl hissed, his right hand hovering above the hilt of his blade.

  Why were they fighting? Graehl and the wizard were friends. At least Marcus had always thought so.

  Master Therapass sighed. “No. Kyja is not dead. Not yet.”

  Marcus tried to push himself to a sitting position, but a wave of dizziness hit him again, and he dropped back to the grass.

  Riph Raph flapped to the wizard’s side and landed on the stump where he’d been sitting. “Then we have a chance. To bring her back.”

  “No.” The old man’s beard waggled as he slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken more clearly before. Only . . . I am so tired.” He gestured toward the stump. “May I?”

  “Oh . . . right.” Riph Raph hopped to the ground while the wizard sat.

  Master Therapass rubbed his eyes. “It seems Kyja was rash in her decision to attempt entry into Fire Keep.”

  “Are you saying it was the girl’s fault?” Graehl asked, his voice cold and tense.

  “Of course not.” The wizard leaned forward. “She was doing what she thought was right, based on the information she had. If I blame anyone, it is myself for not thinking ahead. I should have researched sooner. Only I never thought . . .” He waved his hands before him.

  Lanctrus-Darnoc stepped forward, firelight illuminating the land elementals’ nearly transparent wings. “You cannot blame yourself,” the fox said softly. “The information was nearly as old as the library itself and scattered throughout hundreds of documents.”

  Marcus gritted his teeth. “Stop beating around the bush. What did you find? What are you hiding?”

  Tankum stepped toward Marcus, and Graehl tensed. But the warrior only knelt on the ground at his feet. Marcus had never seen Tankum’s eyes look so sad. “There’s no easy way to say it. When the elementals first came to be, the water elementals had no desire to leave their home; they hid themselves behind a wall of water. The land elementals were left free to collect and gather knowledge. Because of their love of mischief, the air elementals were barred from leaving Air Keep until they learned to trust and earn the trust of others. But the fire elementals were deemed too dangerous to be set free—ever. They are locked behind four gates: one of water, one of land, one of air, and one of fire. It was the perfect way to keep the Pyrinths from escaping. But because she has no elemental magic, Kyja cannot escape either.”

  “Which is why we have to help her,” Marcus said.

  Riph Raph flapped his ears. “Tell us what to do. How do we get her out?”

  Tankum slammed his fist into the ground, leaving a deep depression in the dirt. “We’ve explored every possibility. But the truth is that, despite our best efforts, rescue is impossible. The connection between Farworld and Fire Keep is different from the connection between Farworld and Earth. She cannot pull you over from there. And her physical body can last only so long before her death becomes permanent. That time has either passed, or is so close that it might as well have.”

  Marcus forced himself to sit, ignoring the way it made his head spin. He searched for his staff and used it to leverage himself to his feet. “I’m going to find her.”

  Riph Raph spat a fireball into the air, illuminating his determined gold eyes. “I’m going with you.”

  “That is the one thing you cannot do,” the wizard said.

  Marcus blinked, sure he must have heard wrong. “Are you saying you’re going to stop me from looking for Kyja?” He grabbed his wand. He’d fight his way out if he had to.

  “Put that away,” Master Therapass said. “Our research didn’t reveal the truth only about Fire Keep. It revealed something about you, too. Something that should have occurred to me long ago.” His shoulders slumped. “When Kyja’s body is no longer capable of being returned to—that is, when she—when she dies, the part of you trapped in the realm of shadows will return to your body. You will be completely in Farworld at last, capable of fulfilling your destiny here.”

  Slowly, Marcus crumpled to the ground. “I don’t understand. You said the only way I could return to Farworld permanently was by opening a drift.”

  “The scales of balance brought Kyja here when I sent you to Earth,” Master Therapass said. “I’d always assumed that the only way to bring you back was to return her to Earth. Perhaps the Dark Circle thought the same; we can never know for sure. But it is clear that they know the truth now. That’s why they are searching for you so desperately.”

  “To kill me?”

  “No,” Lanctrus-Darnoc said. “Your destiny must be fulfilled—to save Farworld or destroy it. Your death would mean only that another chosen one would be born, and the cycle would start again. We believe now that the only reason you are still alive is because the Dark Circle knows that killing you would be futile. Their plan is much more devious. It is why they have spent so much effort defending the Windlash Mountains.”

  The land elementals’ words caught Graehl’s attention. He jerked straight. “What do the mountains have to do with any of this?”

  “If Kyja dies,” Lanctrus said, “Marcus will be returned to Farworld.”

  “Except under one condition,” Darnoc added. He turned to Marcus. “The realm of shadows is a portal between Earth, Farworld, and other worlds, as well. It is a place of . . . between. We do not understand much about it other than that it is the spawning ground of snifflers, Unmakers, and filth unimaginable. The part of you trapped there is on the Earth side. If you are inside the realm of shadows when Kyja dies, then instead of returning here, you would be pulled back to Earth and trapped there permanently. All the Dark Circle would have to do is capture you there and keep you alive. Farworld would be theirs to do with as they pleased.”

  The whole idea was too much for Marcus. He rubbed his eyes, exhausted and confused. “How could I possibly end up in the realm of shadows?”

  “Through the cavern of the Unmakers,” Graehl said at once. “That’s it, isn’t it? The cavern is some kind of, what? Opening to the realm of shadows?”

  Tankum stood and pulled a sword from the sheath on his back. He sharpened the metal against his palm, shooting sparks into the darkness. “It’s the only explanation. That’s how they brought the nightmare creatures here in the first place.”

  Master Therapass approached Marcus. “Now you see why we can’t let you leave here. The Dark Circle would do anything to capture you and trap you in the realm of shadows until Kyja’s death. I’ve developed a potion which should al
low you to remain here until your other half is pulled over. I put it in your drink earlier.”

  “So that’s your great plan?” Marcus demanded, looking from the wizard to Tankum and finally to the land elementals. “I stay here—hiding—until you say it’s safe to go out, then, bam! I save Farworld, and everything’s better. Never mind that Kyja dies, Earth is destroyed, and I could never live with myself.”

  Cascade, who had been sitting quietly through the entire conversation, spoke up for the first time. “When Kyja dies, a new child will be born on Earth to take her place. It is only the logical conclusion.”

  “Oh, right!” Marcus burst into hysterical laughter. “That makes it all better, doesn’t it? Sign me up.” He raised his wand in one shaking hand. “I’m sorry, but that isn’t going to happen. You may all be a bunch of cowards, but I’m not giving up. If the Dark Circle wants Kyja dead, they’ll have to kill me first.” He pointed the wand at Master Therapass and Tankum. “I’m leaving now. Try to stop me, and you’ll be sorry.”

  Riph Raph flew onto his shoulder and spread his wings. “I’ll turn you all to ashes if you get in our way.”

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Tankum said, stepping toward him.

  Marcus began to cast a spell, but before he could, a hand pulled his wand out of his grasp and a steel-like arm lifted him into the air.

  “I’ll take him back to his room,” Graehl said.

  “Let go of me!” Marcus screamed. “You can’t keep me here!”

  Graehl hefted Marcus over one shoulder and carried him toward his cabin.

  “Sleep on my words,” Master Therapass called after them. “Sometimes you know the right thing to do but you have to put your finger on it.”

  “I’m not sleeping on anything,” Marcus yelled.

  Riph Raph screamed overhead, firing one fireball after another, but Graehl simply shoved Marcus’s wand into his pocket, ducked from the streams of blue fire, and grabbed the skyte out of the air.

  “How can you do this?” Marcus’s body shook with wracking sobs. “Don’t you care about Kyja at all?”

  “People have to do what they have to do,” Graehl said. “Stop struggling.”

  “Never!” Marcus kicked at Graehl and managed to catch him on the front of his thigh. He didn’t need his wand to cast spells. He reached for land magic, planning to pelt Graehl with rocks, but found nothing there. It was as if his land magic had been taken from him. Air and water were gone too. He tried creating a fireball, but the flames hadn’t left his fingers before they snuffed out. “What did you do to me?” he screamed.

  Graehl glanced over his shoulder toward the circle of elementals. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Marcus understood. The elementals were blocking his access to air, land, and water, combining them to quench fire. Kyja was going to die, and he was helpless to do anything about it.

  A pair of guards were posted outside his cabin. As Graehl approached, they reached for their wands.

  “Need a hand?” one of the soldiers asked.

  Graehl tucked Marcus under one arm like a bag of laundry and laughed. “I think I can handle one boy.” He kicked the door open and threw Marcus onto his bed. “Are you two on shift here for the rest of the night?” he asked the soldiers.

  “Until sunrise,” the younger of the two said, stifling a yawn.

  Graehl grabbed the man by the front of his tunic. “Stay sharp. He may look like a boy, but the future of Farworld rests on him.”

  “He won’t get past us,” the man said, clearly offended.

  “See that he doesn’t,” Graehl snarled. “Unless you want to deal with Therapass and Tankum.”

  The guards nodded.

  Graehl fished Marcus’s wand out of his pocket and showed it to the guards. “They’re blocking his magic, but that won’t keep him from trying to escape.” He turned to Marcus. “Remember what I told you before, boy.”

  Marcus glared at him. “About what?”

  Graehl’s dark eyes bored into him. “People have to do what they have to do.” Without another word, he turned and walked out the door, calling to either Marcus, the guards, or both, “I’ll be back.”

  As soon as the door closed, Marcus turned to Riph Raph. “We have to find a way out of here.”

  10: Paying the Price

  It was all Marcus could do to force his eyes open every time they slipped closed. The day had been exhausting both physically and emotionally, and his head ached with everything he’d learned. On any other night, he’d have been snoring like a chainsaw. But tonight he had to find a way to get out and save Kyja.

  Every few minutes, he slipped out of bed and peeked through a crack in the door to see if anything had changed. Each time, the only thing he discovered was a guard’s fat behind pressed against the solid wood. If he had a long twig, he could have slid it between the boards and given the man a poke.

  Not that it would have helped. He’d tried bribing, pleading, and threatening the men, but the only response he’d received was, “Go back to bed.”

  Lying flat on his back, staring up into the darkness, he tried again to think of some way to escape. Every plan he devised fizzled. The fact of the matter was that he was trapped. The best he could do was wait for the guards to let him out in the morning and look for a chance to run.

  “I can’t stand waiting,” he whispered to Riph Raph.

  “Poached beetle eggs on toast,” the skyte answered groggily.

  Marcus pushed himself onto one elbow to glare at the dark, long-eared shape perched on the back of a chair. “Did you fall asleep?”

  “What? Yes. I mean, no. I was resting my eyes so I can use my excellent night vision.” Riph Raph stretched his wings and flew to the bed, where he landed beside Marcus. “Is it time? Are we escaping?”

  Marcus reached down to touch the bundle on the floor under the bed. His clothes, books, and papers were wrapped tightly inside a robe so he could leave at the first opportunity. “I’ve tried to come up with a plan, but I can’t think of anything.”

  “Leave it up to me,” Riph Raph said, a little too loudly.

  “Shh,” Marcus whispered, putting a finger to the skyte’s beak. It might have been late, but whenever Marcus so much as stepped on a squeaky board, the guards opened the door to check on him. “What can you do? In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s not like there’s an easy way out.”

  Not until he needed to escape did he realize that his cabin was the only one without windows. Until tonight, he’d assumed that the guards had been there for his protection. What if the plan all along had been to keep him trapped? He didn’t know for sure whether Master Therapass and Tankum had been fighting like they said. For all he knew, that story could have been a stalling tactic to keep him from asking questions.

  In the dim light, Riph Raph examined the cabin. “I could claw a hole through the boards. Skytes have razor-sharp talons. But that would make too much noise.” He snorted. “There’s only one choice: my fireballs. I’ll burn the place to the ground.”

  Marcus nearly laughed. “With us inside? We won’t be much help to Kyja if we’re crispy critters.”

  “Then you’ll have to protect us. Use air magic, or water magic. Whatever you learned from those grotesquely shaped monstrosities.”

  Marcus tried to use magic again, even though he already knew what he’d find. “It’s no good. They’ve got me completely blocked.” If only he’d tried to escape earlier. Maybe if he knew more powerful fire spells—ones the elementals couldn’t block so easily. He’d seen Master Therapass do them. But all he’d ever been taught were simple things like making light and fireballs that were little more than Riph Raph could shoot out.

  He glanced at the chair and an idea came to him. “Maybe we can use fire. Burning the cabin would be crazy. But if you lit something like the chair on fire, it would create a diversion. When the guards see flames, they’ll have to open the door, and the smoke might hide us enough to help us slip out. Do you think yo
u can use your fireballs? Or have the elementals put those out too?”

  Riph Raph huffed. “Those freaks of nature couldn’t stop a skyte from blowing streams of billowing flames in their wildest dreams. I’m a fire machine.”

  Marcus ran through the plan in his head. They’d have to stay low to avoid the heat and smoke. Once the door opened, there would only be a second or two to get out, so they’d have to move quickly. The plan was risky—they still might end up cooking themselves like Thanksgiving turkeys. But it could work.

  He looked at Riph Raph and whispered “You don’t think I’m making a mistake do you? Master Therapass has never given me a reason not to trust him.”

  Riph Raph gave an irritated flick of his tail. “Do you want to rescue Kyja?”

  Marcus nodded.

  “Does the wizard have a plan to save her?”

  “No,” Marcus admitted.

  Riph Raph nodded. “Then I say we get her.”

  “All right,” Marcus said. “Let’s go for it.” Sliding quietly out of bed—careful to avoid the noisy spots on the floor—he rolled up his blanket and put it on the chair, then put the pillow on top to resemble a head and body. “If we’re lucky,” he said in a hushed voice, “when they come in, they’ll think that’s me.”

  “But we’ll be waiting inside the door to hit them over the head.” Riph Raph licked his beak. “It’ll be like smashing flashworms with a mallet.”

  Marcus frowned. He didn’t want to know what that meant. “No. We’ll be hiding under the bed so we can crawl out in the confusion.”

  Riph Raph nodded. “That could work too.”

  Squeezing under the short-legged bed with his bundle was a tight fit for Marcus, and it got tighter when Riph Raph squeezed in beside him. Marcus turned to the skyte. “Is there something you’re forgetting?”

  “I don’t think so,” Riph Raph answered, completely oblivious to the problem.

  Marcus shook his head, not sure whether he was more amused, annoyed, or nervous. “I’m pretty sure one of us is supposed to light the chair on fire. The one of us who can blow fireballs out of his mouth.”