Fire Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  “It seemed like a great idea at the time,” the king said, resting his chin in his hand. “The wizards wanted to open a permanent doorway from Farworld to Earth, and we wanted to explore each other’s worlds. At the time, I never thought to question their motives. I believe that Therapass genuinely thought the two worlds should meet each other. His brother, who went by his rank of Master Wizard even then, had other plans, which I didn’t learn about until much later.”

  Marcus picked Riph Raph up off the floor and set the skyte in his lap, trying to see how bad the injured wing was. He knew all too well why the Master wanted to open a permanent doorway between Earth and Farworld. “He wants to use Farworld’s magic and Earth’s weapons to rule both worlds.”

  “Yes,” King Phillip said. “But we didn’t find that out until it was too late. The wizards never actually came into the shadow realm themselves. They knew about Unmakers, snifflers, and a dozen other creatures that could steal their magic, so they weren’t willing to take the risk, although by then we’d figured out how to keep the creatures in check. Therapass and the Master requested items from Earth, and I’d get them. Some things changed when they passed across, and others wouldn’t cross at all. But that only made the wizards more intrigued.”

  He got up from his throne and paced around the pedestal. “In exchange for getting the items they requested the brothers did magic for us.” He waved his hands as though taking in his realm. “The buildings you see here. This palace. It all came from Earth via their magic. They were both positive that with the right combination of technology and magic—parts of both worlds—a doorway could be opened. But the more we built, the stronger the magic it required. Neither Aurora nor I knew anything about dark magic—about what the two of them had done to obtain the power they needed. When we learned of it, we put a stop to the building at once.

  “They were furious, of course, especially the Master. They threatened to take away everything we had. In turn, we refused to work with them anymore and began blocking the portals. That’s when I found out that Aurora was pregnant. I was afraid of bringing Earth doctors here, and I couldn’t take her to a hospital on Earth.”

  He clenched his hands, fingernails digging into his palms. “I agreed to let a couple of wizards into the realm from Farworld long enough to deliver the baby. She knew both of them; they were family friends.”

  Marcus didn’t need to hear the rest to know what had happened. “They worked for the Dark Circle.”

  The king pressed his palms against his eyes. “The Master, who was running things by then, convinced Aurora’s family that I was keeping her prisoner here, that she was in danger. He planned to steal her and our baby right after the birth. Moments before the baby—you—were born, they used magic to knock me out. When I woke up, my wife and child were gone.”

  Marcus stroked Riph Raph’s back. “I can’t believe that Master Therapass would go along with something like that.”

  “He didn’t; he was gone by then. I think he and his brother had parted ways over using dark magic. I’m quite sure he had no idea that the child he sent to Earth was my son.”

  Marcus thought back to how the wizard had warned him to stay out of the realm of shadows. That one of Marcus’s parents might be from there. “I think he might know now.”

  The king cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t ask for any more details. “The rest of the story is fairly short,” he said. “I did everything I could to rescue my wife. I recruited wizards from Farworld, weapons from Earth. I built up an army using both technology and magic to get her back. By then, the Master had realized that I was no use to him. He told me I’d never see my wife again, and that my son would be raised as his. I made it my goal to reach Farworld and return to my wife and child.”

  “Now that I’m here, and you know that my mother is . . .” Marcus shrugged. “You can stop trying.”

  The king walked back to his throne and lowered himself into it. He reached inside his jacket and took out a gleaming metal pistol. “I gave up all hope of rescuing Aurora years ago. I assumed she must be dead or she would have gotten word to me. Now that I know for sure, it changes nothing.”

  “Then what’s all this for?” Marcus asked. “What are you doing with the wizards and soldiers?”

  King Phillip gripped the arms of his throne. “Earth is corrupt and getting worse by the day; I was right about that part. I never fit in because it wasn’t a world worth fitting into. All anyone cares about is getting more power and stronger weapons. It’s only a matter of time before they destroy themselves.

  “I’d searched for magic all those years, but I was wrong about that, too. Magic is just another kind of power—another weapon. I never did discover a way to make a passage between Earth and Farworld. But I found something much better. I discovered a way to use each of the worlds’ power to destroy the other.”

  Marcus’s stomach went cold. He’d always thought he was fighting against the Dark Circle. That’s what everyone had thought. He’d never understood what Kyja was supposed to save Earth from.

  What if this was it—what if the danger to Earth and Farworld was coming from the realm of shadows? From Marcus’s own father? The thought that he could be related to this man—that a member of his own family might be the danger they had been fighting all along—made him feel like throwing up.

  “What do you need me for?” he asked.

  “You’re my son,” the king said. “It’s only right that together we avenge your mother’s death.”

  Marcus shook his head. “You expect me to help you destroy Earth and Farworld? That will never happen.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have any choice.” The king smiled a little sadly. “I’ve been close to completion for a while now. All I need is a little more energy—a sort of super-charged magic battery. And you’re it.”

  25: The Rope

  Marcus pushed himself out of the chair, but there was nowhere to go. Without some kind of staff, he could barely crawl, and he definitely couldn’t escape from the castle. Riph Raph continued to struggle against the silver wires, and they sank deep into the skyte’s flash.

  “Stop struggling,” Marcus said, propping himself up against the back of the chair. “They’ll cut into you if you keep fighting.”

  “I don’t care if he’s your dad or not,” Riph Raph said. “We can’t let him destroy Farworld.”

  “I know.” Marcus turned to the king. “You don’t have to do this. If you let me go, I can finish opening the drift between Earth and Farworld. That’s what I’ve been working on—but with light magic, not dark. You could visit Farworld for yourself and see that most of the people there are nothing like the Dark Circle.”

  “I don’t need to see them,” the king said. “I know what they’re like.” He clapped his hands. “Guards!”

  The two burly men came into the room.

  “Take the Spell Caster and hook him up to the harness immediately,” the king said. “Tell the engineers to meet me in the control room.”

  The men grabbed Marcus by the arms and lifted him off his feet.

  “What should we do with the flying lizard?”

  “Take it to the kitchen to see if the cook has any recipes for skyte.”

  “How can you do this to your own son?” Marcus shouted as the men dragged him away. “What kind of a king are you?” How could he be related to this man?

  “You should brush up on your history,” the king called. “Royalty have a long reputation of not treating their relatives very well.”

  Turnip sat on the floor, staring at the black door. She’d tried three more times to get back to the vortex, but each time, she’d returned here. What if there was no way back, if she was trapped here alone, with no one to talk to and nothing to do—not even bad memories to keep her company? She’d go as crazy as the people in Fire Keep.

  This had all been a huge mistake. She had thought that life with the Pyrinths was so bad that anything would be an improvement. But being trapped here alone mad
e Fire Keep look like a paradise. She let her eyes follow the fiery symbol on the door, and again the word water filled her mind.

  What did that mean?

  A thought came to her. What if the symbol stood for water? What if water was a password? She got up and hurried to the door. “Water,” she said.

  Nothing happened.

  She tried shouting. “Water, water, water!”

  It wasn’t a password. The door required magic that she didn’t have. Sinking to the floor, she put her head in her hands. Why didn’t the boy try contacting her again? He had once—at least for a little while. Why not try again? Unless he couldn’t. Maybe the shouting and the bang she’d heard meant he was in trouble. Could he have been trying to contact her because he needed her help?

  The thought gave her an uncomfortable feeling. She didn’t understand what he wanted, but if he’d come to her for help, he’d been disappointed. Not that there was much she could do to help him. She couldn’t even help herself.

  She tried to remember his face. He’d seemed surprised at first, then happy. He’d wanted her to pull a rope, which didn’t make sense; there were no ropes down here. Then, when the shouting had started and she heard the bang, his face had looked . . . She tried to remember. Scared. She was almost positive that he’d looked scared.

  If only he’d contact her again, she could at least tell him she wasn’t in any position to help—explain that there was no rope. But she thought he’d used magic to contact her, and as her failure with the door clearly demonstrated, she had none.

  Still, she thought, even if he had used magic to speak to her, hadn’t she seen him and spoken to him too? Was it possible for her to contact him? Part of her didn’t want to try, sure that it would end in failure, like her attempt to open the door had. Then again, it wasn’t as if she had anything else to do.

  Shutting her eyes tightly, she tried to remember every detail of the boy’s face. Scruffy hair, dirty robe, the sort of smile that looked like he might get into trouble, kind eyes. She especially liked his eyes. They reminded her of someone.

  Magma. They reminded her of Magma, which seemed silly; the two of them appeared so different. But something about the way they looked at you made you believe that they would go through walls to be there if you needed them.

  With the boy’s eyes locked in her mind, she called out, “Boy! Are you there?”

  As the elevator descended to the bottom level of the castle, Marcus managed to put just enough weight on his good leg so the guards didn’t completely carry him. Holding Riph Raph against his chest, Marcus let his head droop until his mouth was next to the skyte’s ear. “When I yell, do anything you can to distract the guards. Bite, claw, scream.”

  Watching Marcus with his good eye, Riph Raph nodded ever so slightly.

  “I’ve never eaten flying lizard before,” the guard with the metal jaw said, as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. “Wonder what it tastes like.”

  “With those chompers of yours, I’m surprised everything don’t taste like scrap metal,” the other guard said. They dragged Marcus into the hallway.

  As the elevator doors began to close behind him, Marcus screamed and twisted in the guards grasp. “Ishkabiddle on the loose!”

  The man with the metal hands turned to look behind him, and Marcus bit him on the inside of his elbow. At the same moment, Riph Raph jumped up and snapped his beak shut on the earlobe of the metal-jawed guard.

  “Aargh!” the man screamed, blood spouting from his ear. “Get him off me.”

  The robotic hand holding Marcus loosened ever so slightly, and Marcus pulled away. Still holding Riph Raph, he dove into the elevator as the door closed behind him.

  “Get outta there!” howled the man with the metal jaw.

  Marcus punched the L button on the elevator.

  The other guard smashed a steel fist through the crystal door, but the elevator was already rising, and he had to pull his arm back before it got cut off at the wrist.

  “Nice work!” Riph Raph said, spitting blood out of his beak. “I thought you’d given up for a minute.”

  “Not a chance,” Marcus said. As soon as the doors opened, he hopped out, balancing on his good leg.

  Sirens sounded as he jumped over to the receptionist’s desk, which was now empty. Stretching as high as he could, he grabbed one of the swords from the wall and yanked. The weight of the sword knocked him off-balance as it ripped from its mounting, and he and the weapon fell to the ground with a clang.

  “Prisoner escape,” a voice called over the sound system. “Prisoner escape.”

  Using the sword as a staff, Marcus hobbled toward the doors. Before he could get there, four soldiers rushed in from outside. Another pair came running down the hallway.

  Marcus backed up against the wall, holding the sword out. But what good was a blade against soldiers already lifting rifles to their shoulders?

  He looked down at Riph Raph. “I won’t let them take me alive.”

  Riph Raph nodded his battered face. “I’ll see if I can bite off another ear.”

  “Boy,” Turnip called again. No answer. “Boy, are you there?”

  What was the point? She didn’t have any magic, and she never would. More than likely, he’d been trying to reach someone else and had contacted her by mistake.

  She opened her eyes. She guessed she’d wander through the light again. Maybe she’d find the way back to Fire Keep. Or maybe she’d wander forever, until she constantly moaned like the woman, or laughed like the man. Maybe one day, someone would come across her, and she’d ask for a flower.

  If only she had a rope, like the one the boy has asked her to pull. She could climb it and go somewhere else.

  A rope. What an odd request. Why would you contact someone magically and ask them to pull a rope? And what kind of rope would it be? A climbing rope could take you somewhere. But if he wanted her to pull the rope, he would have to be below her, needing to be lifted up like a bucket from a well. Maybe he meant the kind of rope that rang a bell when you pulled it.

  She tried to imagine what the rope might look like, and a picture came to her as clearly as if the rope were really there. It wasn’t brown and rough the way she’d first imagined, but gold and nearly as thick as her wrist. It would be easy for someone to hold onto if you were pulling them with it. She could almost imagine she saw the boy hanging onto the other end.

  What would happen if she reached out with both hands and tugged?

  “Get out of the way, and I’ll put a bullet in his head,” said a man with sideburns and a pockmarked face.

  “You aren’t shooting nobody,” said the soldier in front of him. “King Phillip wants this one alive and in the harness.”

  Marcus swung his sword at the nearest soldier, and the man had to step back quickly to avoid being cut. “You want us?” Marcus said. “Come and get us.”

  Standing there fighting against unbeatable odds reminded him of the time he’d held off four bigger kids with only a mop. He didn’t think he’d be as lucky this time.

  “Come on, Caster,” a soldier said. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He darted forward, trying to grab the end of the silver wires attached to Marcus’s hands and feet, but Marcus stabbed him in the palm with the point of the sword.

  The soldier howled as blood streamed down his wrist. “He cut me.”

  “Good one!” Riph Raph said. “Slice his nose off next.”

  Another soldier raised his rifle.

  “Go ahead and kill me,” Marcus said. “You won’t take me to the harness alive.”

  “Not gonna shoot you,” the soldier said, edging to the right. “But I think I can get a clear shot at the scaly bird.”

  Marcus turned to keep Riph Raph between him and the rifle, and another soldier stepped forward. Before Marcus could turn back around, the man slammed the butt of his weapon against the sword, knocking it out of Marcus’s hands. Instantly the soldiers dove on top of him, pinning his arms and tryi
ng to wrestle Riph Raph away.

  “No!” Marcus screamed, holding onto the skyte as tightly as he could and biting at anything within reach.

  Riph Raph closed his beak on someone’s ear and pulled until the man screamed in pain.

  But it was no good. The soldiers pinned Marcus against the walls. One hit Riph Raph with his rifle.

  “I’m sorry,” Marcus said, closing his eyes.

  “Boy!” a voice called. “Are you there?”

  Marcus’s eyes snapped open. That sounded like . . .

  He felt as if his body were being yanked inside out, and then he was falling.

  The next thing Marcus knew, he and Riph Raph were lying on the floor bathed in golden light. Kyja was a few feet away, staring at him in surprise and wonder.

  He dove toward her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She was real—and she was right here. He could feel her. “Kyja,” he said, pulling back. “It’s you!”

  Carefully she disentangled herself from his grip. “Um, thank you for the hug. It’s uh, nice to meet you.” She held out one hand. “My name’s Turnip. What’s yours?”

  26: All Over Again

  Riph Raph flipped his ears so hard, they landed on top of his head like a little blue bonnet. “Did you say your name was Turnip?”

  “Yes,” Kyja said, smiling uncertainly. “And you’re a skyte, aren’t you?”

  “Kyja, what’s wrong with you?” Marcus asked. “Why are you calling yourself Turnip?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Do I know you?”

  Marcus and Riph Raph looked at each other. “She is Kyja, isn’t she?” Marcus asked.

  Riph Raph—still bound in conductor wire—hobbled over to her and sniffed. “Smells a little different, but it’s definitely her.”