by Devan Skyles
Rift? Master timekeepers? What in Ilimíra were they talking about? Rhydian and Auram had gone there seeking answers but now only had more questions. Suddenly Redwing stepped into view and looked right in Rhydian’s direction.
“Quiet!” Redwing shouted, silencing the others.
Rhydian ducked out of view just as Redwing tossed open the curtains. At that very moment, the second guard sailed into view above. Rhydian dove off the platform and hid on a branch below. As the guard resumed his post, the door was flung open and an irate Redwing stormed out.
“Was there someone at the window?” Redwing demanded.
“I didn’t see anyone,” said Auram to the second guard. “Did you?”
Playing along, the guard concurred with his companion.
Redwing did a double take when he saw at Auram. “Where did the girl go?”
“Oh, Emma,” the other guard intervened. “She was called away, so Auram here took over for her.”
Auram nodded in confirmation as Redwing gave him a hard and suspicious look. Finally, the governor turned and addressed his conspirators.
“This meeting is over. Do not contact me unless something changes.”
Nicodemus and the third man exited the house and took flight. Rhydian, still hiding below, peered through the cracks in the platform above but was unable to identify the man.
“Here,” the guard said privately to Auram, handing him back the amethyst stone. “She said it wasn’t hers. Guess you can keep it.”
When at last the next duty shift began, the new guards came to relieve Auram for the second time that day. He was exhausted, but he still took the time to regroup with his friend and discuss what they had seen and heard.
“Did you see who the third man was?” Rhydian asked insistently.
“I saw him,” he replied, “but I didn’t recognize him.”
“Of course not,” he huffed in frustration. “And we still have no answers.”
“That’s not true. Whatever this rift thing is, we know they only have three weeks left to get it done. If we can hold out that long, it’ll buy us another ten years!”
“Yeah, but what if Redwing is right? What if the ilïmbalm crisis gets worse by then? I think we still need to find out what their plan is.”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good if they’re having clandestine meetings on the outskirts of town to discuss it.”
“True,” he admitted.
Auram was off duty the next day, so he kept Rhydian company for the night. He slept on the floor beside Rhydian’s bed, his armor piled haphazardly in the corner. His sword lay beside him as he slept, as did Rhydian’s. In the morning, they rose and talked for a few hours. For a little while, it was almost as though they had slipped back into their childhood. They almost forgot the events that had transpired. It wasn’t until they heard a noise outside and they both reached for their weapons that they were brought sharply back to reality. Realizing it was nothing, they relaxed a little, but the illusion of security was shattered.
“I really want to see Ellie,” Rhydian said, breaking the tension.
“Let’s go,” Auram said, getting to his feet. “I can watch your back in case anyone tries anything.”
“No. If we go there and we’re followed, we’ll not only be leading them to the threshold, but we’ll be leading them right to where the timekeeper is hidden.”
Auram thought for a moment, then had an epiphany. “Not if we give them another timekeeper to chase!”
“What, a diversion?”
“Sure! I know just the thing! Wait here!”
Rhydian waited one long hour until his friend returned. When he did, he darted through the door in excitement.
“Here,” he said, holding something out for Rhydian to take.
Curious, he held out his hand and Auram dropped a cheap, brass pocket watch in his hand.
“It was only a unit of two-grade at the market,” Auram explained. “From a distance it’ll look just like a timekeeper."
“Brilliant!” Rhydian laughed. “That just might work!”
“Of course it will,” he said indignantly. “It was my idea! Now, you owe me some more two-grade.”
“If this works, I’ll get you a whole jug of pure ilïmbalm!”
Soon thereafter, the two took off and flew down the canyon a ways. It wasn’t long before they spotted two tree-dwellers below them, keeping a discreet distance. Rhydian and Auram smiled at one another.
“I think this is it,” Auram said.
“Please be careful,” replied Rhydian.
He took the watch from his pocket and held it out by the chain conspicuously, being sure to let it dangle and spin. Seeing the sunlight glint off the watch, the two spies powered toward them.
“Moment of truth,” Auram said. “Hand it over.”
Rhydian tossed the watch to Auram, who caught it and immediately wheeled in the air and flew in the opposite direction. “Tell the human I said hi!”
“Thanks again, brother!”
Sure enough, the spies took the bait. They looked back and forth between the two friends for a moment, but they ultimately chased Auram, who sped off back toward home.
Auram could have easily outflown the short-winged tree-dwellers, but he kept his pace just fast enough that he was slightly out of reach. After leading them a couple of miles away from his friend, he alighted on top of the canyon wall, pretending to be out of breath.
The spies, who quite clearly were out of breath from the chase, landed nearby. The nearest one drew his sword and approached.
“The chase is up! Give us the timekeeper, boy!”
Auram smiled and held up his hands, the watch clutched in one.
“Of course! I’m no match for the likes of you!” he laughed. “It’s all yours!”
Turning, he flung the watch into the canyon. He laughed again at the spies’ horrified expressions as they flapped after it frantically, nearly knocking him over as they passed. He wasted no time in flying home, smiling the whole way with satisfied amusement.
Old Secrets
Ellie’s heart raced with excitement as she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. A smile came to her face as she pulled it out and looked at the screen, but when she saw the screen and realized it was yet another call from Desmond, she rejected the call and slumped on the couch.
It had been a few days already and Rhydian still hadn’t called. She knew it was silly to be so hopeful about someone she just met, but she felt they’d made a connection somehow. Was it just her? Maybe she’d come on too strong. Sighing, she shook off the feeling and turned off the TV she’d been sitting in front of all morning. She needed to get some exercise.
She’d been a bit sad lately. Ruger’s master had come and collected him the day before, and it left her feeling a little lonely. She stretched her arms and legs as she listened to the soft sound of rain hitting the windows. It had been an unseasonably hot summer and the rain was a welcome relief.
Stepping outside, she felt the gentle drops hit her face. It was cool and relaxing standing out in the rain. Then she heard an anxious whinny from her horse’s stall and smiled. She ran to the tack shed and retrieved a saddle and bridle, then walked to the stable to the roan, thoroughbred mare that stood there, pawing at the muddy ground.
“You want to go for a ride, huh, girl?” She said.
She placed the bridle over the horse’s head and slipping the bit into its mouth. She then strapped on the saddle, put her foot in the stirrup, and swung her leg over the horse to sit astride it. The horse danced eagerly.
“Easy, girl,” she said, calming the animal.
She gave the horse a gentle tap with her heels and they started out toward the field. At first, the horse just walked at a brisk pace, Ellie bumping up and down in the saddle, but as they passed the gravel driveway and approached the open field, she leaned forward, stood in the saddle slightly, and spurred the horse into a full gallop. The horse whinnied loudly with excitement and flared its nostril
s. Ellie fell into a rhythm with the animal, using her legs to absorb the brisk, up-an-down motion of its gate.
They both felt the rain splatter against their bodies as they sped through the countryside. The rain soon increased, becoming an unyielding deluge. Ellie became completely drenched, her hair plastered to her neck and forehead. Her shirt clung to her skin. The horse’s hair was sleek and shiny. Despite the weather, she felt more alive than she had in days. She directed the horse down a dirt path and rode further than she had in a long time. As the rain continued to fall, she released the reigns and threw both hands into the air, turning her face skyward. She reveled in the thrill of acceleration as rain poured down her face and neck.
At this moment, the horse darted left around a curve in the road and Ellie nearly fell out of the saddle. Her heart jumped into her throat as she clutched the horse’s sides with her legs and grabbed the saddle horn. Scrambling for the reigns, she attempted to slow the horse, but another sharp curve in the road was approaching and they were not slowing down fast enough. Ellie braced for impact as the horse sped around the curve far too fast and its hooves slid in the mud. The two fell sideways and hit the ground hard.
Ellie felt the wind fly from her lungs as she hit and she tumbled a short ways. Skidding to a stop, she felt her elbow hit something hard. She lay there for a minute or two, taking short gasps past the intense pain in her side. She felt as though her entire ribcage had been caved in, but looking herself up and down, she didn’t see any serious damage. Her favorite jeans were ripped and her right arm and leg were both scraped up a bit.
A moment later, the horse climbed to its feet and began walking down the dirt road. Despite her pain, Ellie forced herself to her feet and hobbled after the creature, taking her by the reigns and tethering her to a tree branch. She looked the animal over and found only minor scrapes on her flank. She still ought to have the vet take a look at her, she thought.
Curious, she walked over to where she had fallen. What had she hit her elbow on? It wasn’t a particularly rocky area. She examined the spot and found the corner of a wooden plank poking out of the muddy slope by the path. An old piece of firewood perhaps. She kicked at the wood and a large clump of mud fell away, revealing a wide, flat surface. Kicking it again, she heard a deep, hollow thump. She knelt to get a closer look and wiped the rain water from her eyes. The rain had not let up at all and streams of muddy water were cascading down the slope over her knees. The rain must have eroded the soil that had been concealing the spot, because she had never seen this here before.
Leaning forward, she began digging the mud away with her hands. After a few minutes, her fingers touched a metal object, which she found to be a rusty padlock. Digging away more of the mud, she uncovered a large set of slanted wooden doors, like the entrance to an old cellar.
She smiled despite herself. A rush of excited anticipation washed over her. It was like something from a movie or a mystery novel, she thought. She couldn’t wait to see what was inside. Even if it was empty, it was an exciting discovery. She grasped the lock and gave it several good tugs, but it held fast. She then looked around for something heavy enough with which to bust the lock. Finding a large rock, she came back and pounded at the apparatus until she heard the satisfying crunch of the wood beneath the hardware giving way. She then grabbed a stick and used it to pry the remaining metal away and anxiously pulled on the handles.
The doors were solid and heavy, and apparently swollen shut from moisture. At first, they did not budge. Determined, she put a foot on either side of the cellar doors and yanked with all her might until they creaked open. Once they separated, the doors swung open and she staggered back.
She stood there in the mud, rain water pouring down her face, staring into the opening in the side of the slope. It was a strange place for a cellar, she thought as she knelt and looked through the opening. Leading down into the space was a set five steps caked with mud.
She cautiously stepped down into the room and squinted in the dark. It was cool, moist, and smelled of earth and mildew. The cellar was about ten feet across, perfectly square, and was entirely lined with concrete. In the corner was an old desk with a wooden box on it. Curious, she walked across the room, away from the downpour outside, and peered into the box. It contained a pile of disorganized papers, as if someone had simply tossed them in there in a hurry. Pulling one of the pages from the box, she squinted to make out what it said, but could barely discern anything.
Ellie cleared old cobwebs from the desk and upended the box, dumping its contents in a heap. As she tipped the box back over, she thought she heard something hard tumbling along the bottom, but feeling around inside, there was nothing. Strange, she thought, then dug in her pocket for her phone, which, of course, was as wet as she was. She wiped the screen on her wet, muddy jeans, which of course only smeared the screen.
“Should’ve gotten the waterproof model,” she mumbled to herself.
She turned on the phone and, sure enough, it lit up, though the wet touchscreen made it impossible to navigate to the flashlight function. Picking up one of the papers, she held it close to her face with the faint glow of the phone screen to illuminate it. It appeared to be a page torn from a very old book. She squinted and read:
Ilimíra, land of glory
Place where we belong
I’ll tell a story of the land
Of laughter and of song
I’ve long since seen its skies sublime
Its Cliffside city view
But I recall that wondrous time
Of winging through the blue
We danced the skies and feasted on
The treetops’ sweetest fruits
And our most joyous songs were heard
From the treetops to the roots
The stars were ours to touch by night
The sun to warm our wings
The purpose of our lives was flight
But we yearned for other things
When once we flew from cliff to tree
And made our home the cloud
We left it all behind to see
What lay beyond the shroud
Across the threshold to the land
Where people walk the ground
Too long we tarried on the sand
And ne’er again we found
The portal to our lofty home
And families beloved
Foolishly we roamed below
To ne’er return above
A caption at the bottom read:
Scholars believe this ancient poem is about fallen angels who left their celestial home to live amongst mortal men, and that Ilimíra is possibly an old Celtic word for heaven.
Ellie thought the poem was beautiful, but it made her a little sad and she felt for the “fallen angels” that had written it. She couldn’t imagine losing her home and everything she loved, never being able to return.
She placed the poem back in the box and picked up another. This one was handwritten and across the top was scrawled, Recent Threshold Activity. On it were various charts and notes scribbled in pencil. Complex mathematical equations she couldn’t understand filled the margins. Perplexed by the finding, she placed the paper back on the pile. Many other pages had similar writing on them, some including calendars, locations, and dates. One calendar, from three years ago, had almost the full month of October highlighted and was marked in pen: Alberta Falls Threshold, near Boulder, CO. Heavy use. Entrance location unknown.
Unsure what to think, she decided to take the papers home and examine them there. She scooped the heap back into the box and was about to carry it outside with her when a faint roll of thunder reminded her that it was still pouring rain. She’d never get them home intact. So instead, she resolved to come back when the weather had cleared up. She wasn’t sure what to make of it all, but she was excited to read more. She fantasized about finding something exciting amongst the old papers, like a treasure map or something.
On the way back to the house, sh
e rode at a slow, easy pace. When at last she came to the stable and removed the saddle and bridle from her mount, the rain had slowed to a light sprinkle and a vibrant rainbow adorned the sky. The air smelled clean and fresh.
As she started back to the house, a figure on the road caught her attention. Her heart leapt when she realized that it was Rhydian, again wearing the shirt she’d given him and, like before, he was barefoot. A broad smile split her face and she fought the urge to run out to him. Instead, she played it cool and sat on the porch swing by the front door.
“Hey, Ellie,” Rhydian said casually as he walked up the steps to the porch.
“Hey,” she replied, a coy grin on her face. “You never called me.”
He opened his mouth but didn’t seem to have anything to say in response.
“Been pretty busy?” she offered.
“You could say that. Sorry. Is this a good time? I just thought I’d come and see you.”
She was about to answer when she noticed something perplexing. He had presumably walked all the way from town, but his clothes were barely wet at all.
“Did you drive here?” she asked, looking down the road for a car.
“No, I walked.”
“But you’re hardly even wet. It was pouring buckets just a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, uh—” he thought for a moment. He couldn’t tell her that he’d only walked a few hundred yards. “I guess it wasn’t raining as hard down the road.”
“Weird,” she replied, standing up. Then she smiled mischievously. “Well if I have to be all wet, I’m not going to be the only one.” She threw her arms around him, purposely pressing her dripping clothes against his. They both laughed as they embraced. Ellie enjoyed feeling his strong arms around her.
Rhydian didn’t mind getting wet. His whole body tingled as he felt her body pressed against his. They lingered for a moment before she pulled away.
“So is this going to be a thing now?” he said jokingly. “Every time we see each other, we’re going to be soaking wet?”