A Bridge of Realms

by B. T. Narro

  By Darren’s silence, it seemed that Mavrim was right.

  Mavrim said, “Haven’t you realized by now that I am the single greatest ally you have in the war between the rebels and my family?”

  “I have realized the potential for that, along with the potential for utter destruction if my trust is misplaced.”

  “There are no risks you must take in this moment, DVend. I have only help to offer. Erisena must’ve realized by now that a traitor among her rebels was the reason her whereabouts reached the ears of my council?”

  “She figured that out.”

  “But does she realize that the spy is still with her?”

  Leo’s father strained his neck as if listening for others. He then stared at Mavrim for quite some time, clearly suspicious.

  “Who?” Darren finally asked.

  “His name is Randalf Grey,” Mavrim said. “Months back, he visited the castle to give his report to my council.”

  “There is no Randalf Grey,” Darren said.

  “He must use another name with the rebels. He is in his late fifties, I’d say, long hair not too unlike mine.”

  “If such a man really is a rebel, then I have not heard of him. And if I have not heard of him, then it is unlikely he would know Erisena’s whereabouts. Are you lying?”

  Mavrim clicked his tongue. “My council lied to me, I see. I should’ve known. They set up a man to visit the castle and spoke to him like he was the spy. It must’ve all been an act.”

  “So the real traitor is still with the rebels, likely planning something with your council.”

  “There can only be one plan right now. Everyone knows the rebels will be at Jaktius Perl at the same time as my army because the rebels want to destroy it, and this is their best chance. You must tell Erisena to ensure she is not detected even by scouts. If rebels are found, then a battle will rock the Analyte mountains and leave your smaller army diminished and fleeing once again.”

  “Your army would actually attack us if we’re seen helping destroy Jaktius Perl?”

  “That depends on who has more power now, me or my son.”

  A silence drew on.

  “We will keep a distance,” Darren said. “But you do realize that the closer all of us are, the more likely we are to disrupt the rift and ultimately destroy it?”

  “Of course.”

  Another silence followed. Leo didn’t understand something.

  “Mavrim, sire.” He felt strange uttering the words to Maddox, but he had to remind himself that this was not the same man he had gotten to know. “Why not acquit Erisena and my father right now, along with all the rebels?”

  “I would if that would do anything but lead to my own murder,” he answered.

  “It’s true,” Darren told Leo. “His son or someone loyal to Gavval would wait until the most favorable moment to end Mavrim, as well as ambush all the rebels. He has to keep himself as hidden as he can for now, so it’s important you don’t say anything to anyone about this. He is still Maddox.”

  “I understand,” Leo said.

  Darren had sounded as if his grudge had passed, but then he stepped close to Mavrim and looked down at him as if he was just a lowly street thief who Darren had caught.

  “Hold true to your word, king, and perhaps there might be salvation for you yet.”

  Then he gestured for Mavrim to leave. The monarch nodded and started toward the opening. He looked back.

  “We have more in common now than you might realize.”

  With that, he left.

  ◆◆◆

  After the king was gone, a long silence filled the tent with an ominous feeling that all would not be well for long. Until then, Leo had forgotten just how dangerous his role in all of this could be.

  “I came here to speak about more than just Mavrim Orello,” said Father. “How are Rygen and my sister faring in Jatn?”

  “Leo just came from Jatn recently,” Andar said.

  “Rygen is all right,” Leo told his father. There was much he wanted to share about her, including how she was the only girl he thought about even after meeting many others over the years. But it just didn’t feel like the right time. He decided to bring up something curious instead.

  “Your sister pays coin to stay at an inn rather than save it.”

  Darren nodded. “That sounds like her. She probably never became accustomed to saving coin, even when she had to live in poverty after we escaped the dungeons of the castle.”

  “I’m glad you are different,” Andar said. “You taught us well.”

  Leo imagined his father smiling, though it was too dark to see. “Thank you, Andar. But I wish I’d done more.” He breezed on before giving Leo or Andar a chance to reply. “I assume Rygen attempted to join the two of you for recruitment but she was denied?”

  “She would’ve been accepted,” Leo said. “She’s a strong summoner now, but she never wanted to join.”

  His father took a moment. “She was smart and talented at everything she did. I hope she is happy.” He showed them a hard look. “Part of the reason I came here was to speak about your stalwart link. Have the two of you found out anything else about it?”

  “You knew before you left?” Andar asked. “And no, we haven’t found out much.”

  “I did, but I wanted to learn more myself before telling both of you. Remember that this was years ago; you were quite young. I didn’t know what might happen if you found out, and I especially didn’t want anyone else to know. I didn’t see any reason to bring it up the last time I visited you, for we had little time. But over the last year, I heard of two boys in the army with a stalwart link. I assume all of Aathon will hear of it eventually, so there’s no point in trying to hide it now.”

  “Don’t worry,” Leo said. “We will be safe.” But his father probably knew it was a lie.

  “You must’ve figured you might be sent to fight rebels.”

  Andar answered, “We did.”

  “Then no one, not even yourselves, can guarantee you will be safe.” Darren let out a sigh. “I wish you could turn back, but contracts were signed, I’m sure.”

  “Father, we will be safe,” Leo assured him, meaning it this time. “We will protect each other. We are a family.”

  “You don’t want your last moments with us for a while to be spent worrying, right?” Andar prodded.

  “I suppose nothing I say now can change your course.”

  “That’s right,” Andar agreed. “So you might as well tell us about you and the rebels. There are stories about some of them, like Erisena making contact with a creature as big as a house, and a mage named Lane Writhe who can use a powerful link to stop a small army.” Andar gasped. “I almost forgot the most important story. The night you came back to us in Jatn then left again—the whole city spoke of DVend Quim stealing a horse and carriage and fighting past twenty guards to escape, maiming instead of killing.”

  “Well, some of that is exaggerated.”

  “How much?” Andar asked.

  “The part about Lane, I suppose. She’s strong but cannot stop a small army, perhaps just twenty men.”

  “Skyfire and ash!” Andar exclaimed. “Twenty is still much more than I can hope to stop. And the story about you is true?”

  “It is, but it’s not something I’m proud of.”

  Andar chuckled. “You really are him, the best swordsman. Were you going to teach Leo and me to be as good as you?”

  “I had already begun, do you remember?”

  “That’s right!” Andar said.

  Darren hushed him, for his voice had risen past a whisper, though the hush was done with love. Leo could hear his father grinning when he spoke again.

  “I enjoyed our lessons. Perhaps one day we might have a chance for more, if Mavrim really is the man he says he is.”

  “I believe him,” Leo said.

  “I do as well,” Darren agreed, “but we must be cautious.”

  “We will,” Leo said.

&nbs
p; Darren put his hand over his mouth as he let down his head. “There’s something I’m wondering. Perhaps the two of you might have figured it out.”

  “What?” Leo asked.

  “The stalwart link between the two of you, did it break and reform when Leo left for Jatn and then returned?”

  “We feared something might happen to it,” Andar answered, “but we could still feel it was there even as he traveled two hundred miles away. Then when he came back, it was stronger than before.”

  “Stronger, how can you be sure?”

  “We feel it,” Leo answered. “It’s definitely stronger.”

  Darren hummed in thought. “Do you know why?”

  “We didn’t, and neither did our instructor,” Andar said. “But Mavrim figured it out, actually.”

  Darren was silent a moment. “What did he say was the reason?”

  “The link had to stretch to remain intact over all those miles. Artistry needed to be added to it to keep the bond. When Leo came back, the extra Artistry remained. The link was denser, therefore stronger.”

  Darren didn’t speak.

  “Do you think that’s right?” Leo asked.

  “I don’t know too much about Artistry, but the simplest explanations are often the most accurate. It does sound likely.” Darren gave a long sigh.

  Leo knew it was past time for his father to go, but all of them were enjoying each other’s company.

  The silence stretched on for a while. Leo tried to think of something else to tell his father, but he didn’t want to start a new thread of conversation. He feared his father would be caught if he did stay longer.

  “I should be leaving now. I have already stayed far longer than I intended.”

  Leo was older than the last time this happened. He could endure the pain a little easier, especially if it meant his father would be in less danger than if he remained. The three stood, crouching to keep their heads from hitting the top of the low tent.

  “I love both of you,” Darren said as he embraced Leo and then Andar.

  “We love you, too,” Leo and Andar echoed.

  “You both are likely to be powerful mages one day, but you must be careful. Powerful mages have a history of dying young. Think of KRenn Trange.” He paused. “Have you heard what happened to him? He was not careful.”

  “People say he disappeared and might’ve caused the growing rift,” Leo said.

  “He did not cause the rift,” Darren said with certainty. “But he did disappear.”

  “How do you know?” Leo asked.

  “I suppose I can risk a little more time, for this is important. I know because my father met with KRenn many times. I even met him once or twice, though I was young at the time. KRenn sensed something strange far away in foreign land. He spoke with my father as well as Mavrim later, seeking out any knowledge about what it could be. Neither my father nor Mavrim were knowledgeable about Artistry, but both men, like most who are powerful, were always in contact with scholars and mages. But through all of KRenn’s meetings with these scholars and mages, he was the only one who could tell that something was amiss. He eventually left to meet with the Analyte king in hopes of discovering what it might be, in case it was dangerous.”

  Leo had forgotten how much he enjoyed listening to his father speak, especially when Father told a story. He wished it could go on the rest of the night.

  “The Analyte king knew nothing of the disturbance. He sent a strong Analyte mage with KRenn to investigate it in the mountains far north of their capital. But they did not return. Eventually a party was sent after them. The Analyte mage was found dead outside a growing rift of Esitry, his body mangled, and KRenn was nowhere to be seen. They reported this back to the Analyte king, Dasfis, who you might meet soon. Dasfis sent word to Mavrim and also claimed that KRenn might’ve caused this rift when he went to investigate something nearby. Dasfis requested that scholars and mages come and help the Analytes determine what to do about this situation, but Mavrim refused. Tension formed between the armies, which was one reason my father thought he could trust the Analytes in the battle against Mavrim.”

  Darren let out his breath. “There is much more I wish I could share, but we do not have the time. The last piece of information you need to know for now is that the Grandson of KRenn, FLip Trange, was born soon after KRenn’s disappearance. Apparently he has the same birthmark on his arm as his grandfather. Rumors of KRenn being reborn as FLip circulated quickly and still exist today. It’s the reason he has so many followers.”

  “Do you think they are the same man?” Andar asked.

  “No,” Darren answered confidently. “There is something about FLip that makes him different than most men, but he is not his grandfather. KRenn was…” He stopped for a moment of thought. “He was an incredible man. Even through all the praise he received, he remained humble and always strived to better the lives of people in need. I do wish he was here now, for it seems that anyone with any power has already chosen a side, and a battle soon approaches. He is exactly what might diffuse the situation.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Twenty-three years ago

  KRenn Trange had tried all he could to find out about the disturbance he felt hundreds of miles away. He had spoken with other Ascendants, summoners, and scholars of all kinds. No one else could feel it. No one else had any idea what could cause such a disruption to the Artistry and Esitry of the world that allowed KRenn to detect it from such a distance.

  He had met with the Analyte king and fortunately had convinced Dasfis to send the strongest Analyte mage with KRenn to investigate the anomaly. It was a long trek through the mountains, but eventually they arrived.

  KRenn was not surprised to find that it was a rift. Portals were powerful and volatile, extremely disruptive to the normal flow of energy. It was already larger than a Jatn farm field, light blue like the clear lakes of Gesnia.

  Strangely, though, this rift expanded with every breath KRenn took. He had never seen nor heard of another rift with the same attribute.

  The mage sent with KRenn was talented in both Artistry and Esitry, but his common tongue was not adequate enough to hold a conversation. So they used Analyse instead.

  “Let’s see about destroying it while we’re here,” KRenn suggested. He would’ve enjoyed taking the day to study this strange rift. However, the bigger it became, the more difficult it would be to break the flow of energy that kept it alive.

  The rift did not appear to form the same way as other rifts, which were made as a gateway between realms to alleviate the pressure of Artistry on the light realm and Esitry on the dark realm. This rift was of pure Esitry, hence the blue color. The light tint also made it seem that KRenn might be able to peer into it if he was close enough. He and the other mage had to be close to destroy it anyway, so they climbed up higher to get there. So long as they didn’t touch it, they should leave with their minds and bodies in good health.

  The most difficult climb was made days ago, when they’d needed to find a decent mountain path that would lead them up. Now it was just a short trek to the face of the rift.

  As KRenn came close to the rift, he felt that something was alive within it. His mind was telling him something, and he had learned long ago to always trust it. There was an abundance of Esitry within the rift. It seemed to be moving about—a link drifting around with it. KRenn assumed it to be some sort of creature, though he had never heard of one that lived within a rift. Usually the excess of energies destroyed all life, but this rift was different, after all. It was made of pure Esitry. Perhaps many creatures in the dark realm could live within it…but only if they were able to step inside the rift without going through to the light realm.

  Could such a feat be possible?

  KRenn asked the Analyte if he felt any of this, but the mage did not. As KRenn focused harder, he wondered if his mind was deceiving him for the first time he could remember. Perhaps he was feeling a creature in the dark realm, and it only appeared to b
e within the rift.

  KRenn really became confused as he continued to wonder what had caused this rift to open in the first place. A rift alleviated pressure between the realms, but could pressure be here? The Artistry in the air was unusual, bonding with the rift’s Esitry to form something unfamiliar to KRenn. But there was the same amount of Artistry here as what usually filled the air. Therefore, it could not be Artistry that caused enough pressure for a door to open between realms. But it could not be Esitry, either, for nothing in the light realm made Esitry.

  Nothing we know, KRenn corrected himself. Perhaps it was Esitry after all, and such a heavy amount that it bonded with the Esitry in the dark realm. The energies would pull one to the other until a hole opened.

  It did make sense, except for one thing. What could make Esitry in the light realm when nothing had before?

  “KRenn,” called the other mage. He had walked far ahead. “We destroy it now,” he said nervously in Analyse.

  KRenn headed up the rocky slope to catch up. He was about to tell the other mage that he wanted more time when a shocking sight stunned KRenn.

  Beastly tendrils pushed out from the rift. They arced to act as a foot for some huge creature that remained unseen.

  “Run!” KRenn yelled as he rushed upward to assist his comrade.

  The mage did not move, not even to turn around. He leaned back, frozen in fear, as the rest of the creature emerged and towered as high as the precipices around them. The creature looked as if it had been born from a tree and a rift, blue and black, with many earthlike tendrils that were as thick as trees. They ran up and down the creature to form a body with four long legs, with lethal twisted claws at the end. Its horrific face looked to be made of pure Esitry, a strangely blurred image of spikes of energy. It did not seem to have a mouth, but it certainly had eyes, white and glowing like burning spheres.

  The creature lifted its front foot over the mage as if to crush him. KRenn thought he should be able to link one leg of the beast to another, but the Artistry here was not as strong, for it was drawn to the Esitry of the rift. He tried to bond the limbs of this strange and powerful beast anyway. After a brief struggle, the two front legs were connected through a thick beam of Artistry.