by Dale Furse
Hankley looked closer at the two boys. Both appeared scared and confused. Their faces were white and the smaller one was crying. “Those boys aren’t from Zandell and they’re obviously not from anywhere else on Cillian either. They came through a door, didn’t they? Where did they come from?”
The Shanks glanced at each other. “It’s your fault they ended up there,” argued Two.
“Yeah, your fault,” agreed One.
“Hang on, I wasn’t even here. You are not pinning this on me. I knew you weren’t ready for wall duty. You’re not even ready for the brown belt.” His hand flicked the Shanks’ new, brown belt without touching it. “Let alone the brown robe you hope to replace that ugly grey one with.”
He placed the sandwich on the mahogany desk filling one end of the room and rubbed his face with his hands. Why had he been lumbered with a Mornt? Both heads were long-haired nitwits. He glowered at them. With their enormous, high foreheads, they should have some brains inside their skulls.
After a moment, he placed his hands on his hips. “Right, Oln will want to hear about this.”
“You’re the one who was supposed to train us,” Shank Two said, his droopy eye half open.
“Yeah, you should never have left us by ourselves.”
“Can’t you fix it instead of telling Oln?” Two asked.
“Yeah,” One said.
“I’ll handle it,” Shank Two said to his brother as he faced Hankley. “One of us must have, um, accidentally, ah, leaned on the button and the wall appeared. We—”
“I told you not to touch anything.” Heat burned Hankley’s cheeks as he strode to the other side of the desk and ogled the button. “Oln and I are the only ones allowed to touch it. Only us. Do you hear me? Only us.”
“Shh.” Two moved like lightning to cover Hankley’s mouth with his hand. “You’ll have the whole Inner Realm hearing you.”
“Two, I wish you’d warn me before you move like that. It rattles my brain if I’m not ready for it.”
“Be quiet, One.” Two kept his hand over Hankley’s mouth.
Hankley shook his head and pulled Two’s hand away. “I don’t care. Now answer me. What happened?”
“Well, somehow,” the pained look on Two’s face said the confession was difficult, “The wall appeared on Salteren right in front of that little messenger boy and he walked through a door as if he was walking into his house or something.”
“Yeah,” One said. “He walked right onto Earth.”
Two said, “Anyway, the wall disappeared like it was supposed to, at least to the humanoids, but we could still see it. We tried to come up with a way to get the Salteren boy home. One suggested we use the button again and I had to agree.” Shank Two hesitated for a second. “So I pushed it and the wall disappeared even from our sight. We had moved away from the button, honest, we were nowhere near it when the wall appeared again between Earth and Cillian. That young man,” he pointed to the older boy, “had come across the Salteren by then and I don’t know why, but he and the boy stepped through to Cillian. Then the wall of doors vanished. We couldn’t see it again.” He took a breath. “That’s when we called you.”
“Yeah, and you—”
Hankley almost screamed. “You lost the wall?”
“Yeah, but you—”
Shank Two shut One up with a look of warning before he gazed at Hankley. “I know we did something to the wall, but we have no idea what or even how we did it. We only know it has vanished. What if it never comes back? How can we get the boys to their home worlds without it? If you were here like you should have been, we’d still have the wall.”
Shank One poked his chin out. “Yeah, you should have stayed with us. It wouldn’t have happened if you were with us.”
A memory of a similar incident many years earlier bit at Hankley’s mind.
“Let me think a minute.”
He sat on the corner of the table and munched on the rest of his sandwich with his eyes closed. The last time, Oln’s brother was responsible for the walls sudden appearance on Cillian and more precisely, Zandell. Oln knew what Gart had done before Hankley told him the people from Zandell crossed through the doors. He wondered if his god knew already or if Gart’s sneakiness had improved. The wall was gone.
Swallowing the last mouthful, Hankley wiped his mouth with the end of his sleeve. “There is nothing I can do,” he said. “Oln alone can fix this mess.”
“No,” the Shanks exclaimed in unison.
Hankley looked at their distraught faces. They were annoying and they were not prepared to take on wall duty. They weren’t ready for any brown robe responsibilities. He frowned. He knew deep down it wasn’t their fault. And he shouldn’t have left them. He could have informed Oln as soon as it happened. They were all in the wrong.
“Look, I’ll go with you and explain it was an accident. Oln is a very understanding ruler. We are lucky we’re not in the Quarter Realm. Gart is hard on his servants and not very forgiving of their mistakes. He’s always packing them off to Azu.”
The Shanks glanced at one another, a look of guilt on their faces.
Hankley raised his brows. “You know Gart?”
“Yeah, we know Oln’s brother,” One said while Two nodded.
“You worked for him.” It wasn’t a question, Hankley could tell by their reddened faces they had worked for Gart. So that’s why they turned up here after the last realm meeting. “What did you do to make him mad?”
“We burned his ruby robe. It was a mistake. We didn’t mean to have the fire so high and the water so low in the washing pot.”
Hankley chuckled. “The water evaporated and the robe burned in the pot?”
“Actually,” Two said. “The whole wash building burned. We got out alive with seconds to spare.”
“Yeah, we well-nigh burned up with the robe.”
“Fire can’t hurt you.”
“Yeah, but it might have hurt,” One said.
Hankley snorted. “You’re lucky you were sent here. Oln’s the kindest of all his brothers and sisters.”
“I heard Mav isn’t bad,” Two said.
Hankley threw his head back and let out a laugh. “She’s not, but the entire Half Realm is in chaos.” He shivered. “You better pray to Azu you don’t get sent to Mav. I couldn’t stand it there.”
“Us either,” Two agreed, eyeing One’s wide grimacing mouth.
“You might not have to. However, we do have to tell Oln about this.” Hankley waved an arm in the boys’ direction.
“Even if he doesn’t send us to another realm, he might demote us to the green robe.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to go back to cleaning the realm day after day.”
“He might, and he might also demote me to the grey robe.” Hankley shivered inwardly at the thought. All that baking and collecting produce from the many worlds. He hated physical labor. “It doesn’t matter, we have to tell him. Those boys have to get back to where they belong.” Not like the other lost Zandillians, he added silently.
Two turned the corners of his lips down, but nodded.
“Yeah.” One also nodded.
Waving his hand above his head once more, Hankley stated, “Gold quarter,” and lifted off the floor, ascending through the cloud forming above him.
The Shanks looked at one another, shrugged both shoulders, and followed.
“Should we get our stories straight?” Two asked when they emerged from the mist.
“Stories?” Hankley said. “No, Oln would see through any lies. Let me do the talking.”
As Hankley stepped onto the golden street leading to Oln’s sanctum, the lustrous, clean lines of the kingdom dulled. He squinted at the not so sparkling white gold buildings of the designers and, further along, the gold streaked with palladium apartments of the red-robed keepers. The entire scene dimmed even more as the giant blue and black dome of Oln’s sanctum filled Hankley’s vision.
The Shanks hesitated. Hankley also took a moment to collect
his thoughts. Servants of all robes met and chatted in groups of two or more. Why were they all hanging around and not going about their work? Did they know?
“Come on,” Hankley said. “Oln won’t bite you.” He hoped he was right.
“No, but I don’t want to be demoted, and I sure don’t want him to banish us to one of the other realms,” Two said.
“Yeah.”
“Demoting isn’t so bad,” Hankley said. “Especially if the alternative is banishment.”
The gold street narrowed, stopping at the wide, jewel beset steps of Oln’s sanctum. The many colored gems still glittered. He relaxed. “And Oln would never banish anyone for a mistake.”
When they entered the domed sanctum, Oln stood behind his throne, facing a wall decorated with carvings. “Come in, Hankley, Shanks One and Two.” He didn’t turn around.
Hankley’s heart skipped a beat as he wished his god would at least acknowledge their presence.
Oln wore a gold-embroidered purple robe.
Hankley wondered if he was going somewhere because he preferred to wear a black robe when in the Inner Realm. The god seemed to study the intricate carvings of plants and animals the artisans had scribed into the wall. Hankley knew better. Oln looked through the wall, and Hankley had a good idea of what held his ruler’s interest. The god’s aura was a cobalt blue, which meant he had thought about something for a while.
“Master.” Hankley tried to stop the quiver in his voice.
Oln twirled with the grace of a dancer, the hem of his robe swirling around his ankles. He floated toward the servants. “You have something you want to tell me?”
All three heads bowed low, and all three answered, “Yes, Master.”
Hankley stepped away from the Shanks’ side. “The Shanks had an accident.”
The aura surrounding Oln’s hairless body darkened. He said nothing. Eyes the color of dark slate stared straight into each servants’ eyes without shifting from one pair to the next.
“Sir, the wall—”
“I know about the wall of doors. You three do not need to worry about it. It’ll turn up, it always does.” Oln turned and glided to his throne. He sat and waited.
The Shanks glanced at each other then at Hankley.
Hankley gave a nervous cough. “Sir?”
Oln held his palm facing Hankley. “Don’t fuss. I know who has the wall.”
“Somebody has it?” It had to be Gart, the God of the Quarter Realm.
“Yes, I’m afraid my brother has become bored once more.” He chuckled, his tone, deep and resonating. “He can be a scoundrel at times. When he’s tired of playing with the humanoids he’ll return the wall intact.”
“But the children need to get back to their home worlds,” Hankley said without thinking. If the wall took too long to return, too much time might pass and Oln might never allow them to return.
“I said, don’t fret. They’ll return to their worlds soon enough.” His aura washed navy, concentration. “Too many inhabitants are traipsing backwards and forwards to different worlds. Gart had allowed another to pass from Zandell to Earth. However, he informed me the man had made it back unhurt. My brother has promised not to let it happen again. I will keep an eye on him. You keep your eyes out for the wall and let me know if the key is delivered to the office.” With another chuckle, he added, “Gart did say he’d deliver it, although he seems unable to accept my audience at present.”
“Sir—” Hankley tried to speak.
“The children must not be interfered with again. They will return.”
“Yes, Master,” Hankley said, wondering once more about his god.
His mind muddled, but that was his usual state when he talked to Oln. Oln almost never made sense. Knowing didn’t stop Hankley from worrying about the boys.
The corners of Oln’s mouth moved into a slight smile. He appeared to enjoy the servant’s befuddlement. “You will work on the theory of the wall with the Shanks, Hankley. Are you still willing, One and Two?”
“We are honored, Sir,” Two said.
“Yeah, honored, Sir,” One said.
“But they… I…” Hankley did not know what to say. He still struggled to collect his thoughts.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Hankley.”
Hankley sighed. His thoughts filled with pictures of the boys below. They were young, not long out of babyhood, unlike the woman who ventured to Earth and the man who ended up on Salteren the last time Gart played with the wall. There were beasts in Zandell. Beasts, which would see the children as intruders in their territories. The sword flashed in his mind. Nothing could hurt the boys if they had the great weapon.
Oln drew Hankley closer with a wave of his hand. “Don’t even think about it, Hankley. One mischievous god is enough. I will not have my servants disobey me. You will not touch the sword of Dragonlee.” A picture of Mike and Terni filled the wall. They sat, faces desolate with wet eyes and cheeks, on the grasses of Zandell. Oln continued. “Those children will not be lost like the two who left Cillian the last time Gart became bored.”
Bowing his head, Hankley said, “Yes, sir.”
The Shanks crept forward and spoke in unison. “Two people left Cillian?”
The Mornt appeared to have regained their backbone.
“Yes, well, they weren’t lost, per se.” Oln chuckled.
Shank Two said, “How is it they never returned?”
Oln laughed. “Once I induced Gart to talk to me, he admitted the key no longer worked. He didn’t know what he did, so my designers had to come up with the solution. By then, the two Cillians in question were gone too long.” He took his time explaining to the Shanks. “They had new families in the new lands. Understand?”
The Shanks nodded, but Hankley knew they understood even less than he did. Why hadn’t Oln made Gart hand over the key?
Oln said to Hankley, “Work with the Shanks, make them understand the wall keeper’s duties.”
Hankley frowned.
The corners of Oln’s mouth darted up in a wide smile. “Azu has called the All Realm meeting forward. I will speak to Gart there. You three will be on your own.” He vanished in a burst of light.
The three servants stood mute. Happy as he was about not going to the Outer Realm, Hankley stood staring at one Shank, then the other, for some minutes before Shank One broke the silence. “Yeah,” he said, “we have to learn about the wall.”
Hankley sighed, relieved Oln wasn’t angry. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling pleading for Azu to save him and was somewhat amused when, out of the corner of his eye, Shank Two did the same. He sighed. It was not for him to understand Oln. His job was to obey without question, although it was sometimes hard not to question.
“All right, let’s go back to the scene of the crime while I try to figure out how to teach you two.”
Hankley also wanted to think of a way to help the boys without angering Oln. If he had worked with the designers earlier last time, perhaps the man and woman would have returned to Cillian.
Chapter 5
“Watch out,” a man’s voice called.
A second passed, still nothing, then another and another. Mike grimaced. Death did not hurt in the least. Small hands pulled his rigid arms down from his face and light entered his eyelids.
“Mike.”
It was Terni’s voice. Did the horse crush him too? He half opened one eye. Horse’s legs stood before him on what appeared to be familiar ground. Both eyes snapped open. The rider glowered down his long nose at Mike. Cocking his head to the side, he looked at Terni.
“You are all right,” Terni said. “The horse jumped over you.”
Mike straightened and glared back. “You could have killed us.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You are trespassing.”
The red-haired man, maybe around thirty or so, slid from his horse and took a step towards Mike. The man wore white riding breeches and high, black boots. His coat was long and green, pushed back to show his hand resting on
the hilt of his sword. Mike tightened his lips. Not very subtle.
Mike said, “Do you own this property?”
Before the weirdly dressed man could answer, three more riders galloped into view. They slowed then surrounded Mike and Terni. Their unfriendly faces stared down at them, but all Mike could think was the people were human so they must be on Earth.
A young woman, who looked like she wasn’t much older than Mike, dismounted and strode toward him. Her lips were one tight line. She had looked small on the massive horse, and although Mike was the tallest in his group of friends, she was a half-head taller.
His nerves still jangled, and he did all he could not to look like a scared rabbit. Terni moved closer to his side. Mike ignored him, his attention fixed on the young woman.
“Who are you and why do you interrupt our hunt?” she asked.
Mike could not place the strange lilt in the girl’s voice, but was glad she left her bow hanging on her saddle. Her tan shirt, long enough to belt at the waist by a leather strap had no sleeves, and her trousers were pushed into tan boots.
Maybe Mike’s movie making supposition was correct after all. He wondered if the grim-faced man had taken his role seriously, or if he actually meant to use the thing. Just in case, Mike moved Terni behind him.
“A question has been asked of you.” The man nodded his head toward Mike so hard his brown ponytail fell over his shoulder.
Mike tried to remember the question. He couldn’t. “Say again?” he asked.
“You are on the king’s property and you are trespassing,” the man said.
“I’m on the king’s property,” Mike said, looking the young man up and down. “You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t make light of trespassing,” he said, with a cold and crisp tone. “You will address me as Prince Ludo.”
Mike stared at the so-called prince.
“Their dress is strange,” the woman said, walking around Mike.
Mike stopped a laugh with a cough. His dress was strange? What about theirs?
“Where do you come from?” she said, it was more like a command than a question.