The Inner Realm

by Dale Furse

  “I hope you can use that thing,” Derek said with a crooked smile.

  “I think I can hold my own.” Mike threw him a wide grin.

  An arrow whizzed past and struck the man Peule had engaged. Mike glanced over his shoulder. Noor used her legs to guide her horse and nock another arrow. Ahead, Ludo’s men, with rifles strung to their saddles, used swords. Four archers shot their arrows.

  Mike kicked his horse between the sword-fighters and the archers. Swinging his sword, he managed to deflect all four arrows. The archers must have decided Mike was their quarry, because four more arrows sped directly toward him. Again, he repelled the shafts.

  A gun fired. Both sides stilled, searching for the source. One of Ludo’s men slumped over the neck of his horse and slowly slid sideways to the ground. His foot caught in the stirrup and his horse fled, dragging the dead body with it.

  As the horse passed him, Mike noted how the gun was bound to the saddle. The barrel pointed up and back at an angle. It had accidently fired and shot the horseman in the head. Mike scanned the other riders’ saddles. Every rifle had been fastened the same way. All the numbskulls probably loaded their guns before packing them. They’ll all kill themselves.

  Noor screamed, “Mike, watch out.”

  Mike about-faced. An archer had regained his senses and aimed his gun at Mike. He fired.

  The man missed. Mike wrenched his sword to the side to halt the missile from hitting anyone else. The bullet cut across his wrist. His fingers opened involuntarily and the sword fell from his hand. Ignoring the pain in his wrist, Mike jumped to the ground to retrieve it.

  At the same time, another archer drew his sword and swiped the rifle out of the shooter’s grip. “Get the idiot’s rifle,” he yelled, bringing up his sword ready to cover whoever answered his call.

  The sword fighters had moved back to the archers and one of them had all ready recovered the gun.

  The head bandit remounted. “Move out, and do not return to Ludo if you care for your lives.” He kicked his horse and took off back toward the ridge and the top of the canyon.

  The rest of the marauders hesitated, as if unsure whether to follow the one fleeing or stay and fight.

  Peule, who had only been a second too late to grab the rifle, tried to pull a rider from his horse. Behind them, an archer aimed. Mike’s left hand tightened on his sword handle and he leapt, falling sideways between the archer and Peule. His injured right wrist exploded with pain as it slammed into the ground. His leg throbbed in agony, but Mike tightened his lips against a groan and held his sword high. The steel met the arrow a second before it penetrated Peule’s skull.

  “Black magic,” the archer shouted. “The boy is a demon. I follow Strinker.”

  “Me too,” a thug hollered.

  More ayes and they all raced off after the first.

  Derek moved to Mike who thought the prince was going to help him up. Instead, the prince tried to scoop up the sword. “What strangeness is this?”

  Mike grasped it harder and got shakily to his feet. “Thanks for the help.”

  Noor approached from the left. Carn’s horse stopped behind Mike. Peule scrambled to take up his position beside Derek, and three other men jostled behind their prince.

  Mike eyed Derek. “Exactly what they said. Black magic.”

  Derek examined the sword from hilt to tip without removing it from Mike’s hand. “Is that so?” He let go.

  “Yep.”

  “Where did you get it from exactly?” asked Noor.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Noor threw a leg over her horse’s neck and slid to the ground. “You are hurt.”

  Mike gazed at his bloody wrist. It hurt less than his aching leg, but if they knew about it, they would pack him off to the palace. He could not let that happen. They needed him, crippled up in [pain or not. “Yeah, I sort of misjudged.”

  While Noor ripped the hem of her shirt and tied a strip around Mike’s wrist, Derek said, “Many things have happened on this world that can’t be explained, Mike. You and Terni are proof of my words.” He smiled and waved his hand in the air. “Bring the horses, men, and Mike can tell us all about the sword as we travel.”

  Derek put Terni in front of Mike.

  “You all right, kid?” Mike asked, surprised there wasn’t even a hint of a tear in Terni’s eyes.

  “Of course.” Terni grinned. “I’m not scared when you’re with me.”

  Not knowing what to say, Mike smiled. The trust in Terni’s eyes squeezed at his heart. He grimaced at the burns on the kid’s arms. The poor brat had gone through a lot. Mike sighed. He hoped he could live up to Terni’s expectations.

  As they rode, Derek and Noor on one side, Carn and Peule on the other, and the remaining three behind, Mike relayed the story from his very first meeting with Hankley. Even Peule stayed silent until he had finished.

  Noor was the first to speak. “So it is true. Ludo has a potion book.”

  “I thought you believed me,” Derek said, an exaggerated hurt expression on his face.

  “I did believe you, but I was worried whether the king would. Now we have an unbiased witness. Two actually.” She ruffled Terni’s hair.

  Derek fell back and nudged his horse between Noor and Mike. “You say Ludo has passed through the wall of doors?”

  Mike nodded. “I figure th—”

  Peule interrupted. “That’s how he got those weapons.”

  “Yes,” Mike said. “I’d like to know how he did it though. Hankley and the Shanks told me they lost the wall, and not even the wall designers can find it.”

  Peule snorted. “Someone is obviously lying.”

  Mike frowned. Hankley said he was the wall keeper. Did he know more than he let on?

  Carn coughed. “We can’t fight weapons like that, can we?”

  “They are truly deadly,” Derek sighed.

  Mike wondered about the use, or rather, the lack of use, of the guns. “You know something? Um, I don’t think they’re as deadly as they could be.” He rubbed his neck. “Derek, those guns need bullets to be of any use, and they don’t seem to have many. When we were in the cave, I saw lots of boxes of guns but hardly any boxes of bullets. I think Ludo’s using useless rifles to scare you.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “I might be able to come up with a plan to make the other guns ineffective. It would be a much fairer fight then.”

  “I hope so,” Derek said. He gave Mike’s shoulder little squeeze.

  The group fell silent, each in their own thoughts, as they rode onward.

  Mike ran everything he knew through his mind. Ludo must have used the wall of doors long before Mike and Terni had. Even as long ago as when his mother and the Ternith had gone through—or even longer.

  His thoughts turned to Hankley and the Shanks. He couldn’t imagine his new friends allowing such destruction. Mike figured Ludo’s plan was to fire as many shots as possible into the king’s army. Even with fewer bullets than guns, it would be catastrophic if Mike didn’t think of some way to stop them.

  After a while, Peule began talking to Carn once more, and they all began to chat to one another from time to time.

  “Derek?” Mike said.

  “Yes?”

  “Why won’t you tell me why you left the castle?”

  Derek sighed and gazed at Noor. She nodded.

  “I suppose you’ll hear the court gossip when we return. I was having a drink with Ludo the night before I was to wed Noor. The next thing I remember is waking in my bed. However, I was not alone. A court handmaiden was asleep next to me and—”

  “That’s when I walked in,” Noor interrupted. “Ludo had told me Derek needed to tell me something.”

  “Yes, and I told you I couldn’t remember—that I must have been given some sort of sleeping draught.”

  Noor’s eyes saddened. “And I didn’t believe you. I thought you had drunk too much wine and that was why you couldn’t remember.”

  “
It’s all right. I would have found it hard to believe if the roles were reversed. Anyway, no one believed Anabel or me. She couldn’t remember anything either.”

  “That’s why you left?” Mike asked. “Didn’t you try to make Noor believe you?”

  “I did, but Ludo had also told Father I wanted to see him. He too, appeared in my sleeping chamber. He was so furious and said things he did not mean. I understood, but it didn’t stop them hurting any the less. I too said things I regret.”

  “Do you know what happened now?”

  “Oh, yes. Ludo gloated when no other could hear, knowing if I said anything no one would believe me. He blustered how he had a book of potions and he would use them again. How he planned to usurp me and take Noor for—”

  “That was never going to happen,” said Noor.

  Derek chuckled at Noor’s repulsed face. “I didn’t think so.”

  Noor grinned.

  “I hate to tell you this, Noor, but he did have a book of potions. For all we know, he could have made you want him.”

  Noor’s eyes widened and she smacked her hand over her mouth. “No.”

  “Wait,” Derek said. “That is all in the past now.” He pushed his horse into a jog and caught up to his men ahead.

  “Ludo’s quite mad, isn’t he?” Noor sighed.

  “Oh, yes, he’s mad all right.” Mike could not stop adding, “Aren’t you scared insanity might run in the royal family?”

  “Mike, what a terrible thing to say,” Noor said, but laughed. “Don’t you let Derek hear you say something like that.”

  “Too late.” Derek slowed his horse and twisted around in the saddle. “I heard every word.” He tried to look stern at Mike. “You have a quick tongue, young man, and I suggest you keep it in check.”

  Mike gave him a look that said, ‘not likely’, and they both laughed.

  It was six full days of riding to get to the kingdom town and castle. Mike would have plenty of time to think of a plan, but that was six whole days before he knew if Vala was all right. A picture of her the first time he saw the fire in her eyes came to his mind. He smiled. He liked the image, and he couldn’t wait to see it again. He just wanted to make sure she was all right, he told himself. After he had helped Derek and the king, he would hurry back to the wall with Terni.

  Chapter 23

  The Shanks stood in the Quarter Realm orb room. Shank Two couldn’t believe he and his brother had the book and crystal in their hands as they stood before Gart. Without Mike, they might not have fulfilled their duty to Gart. The Shanks’ heart, long dead of any real emotion before meeting Mike and Terni, sat laden with rekindled sadness in the middle of his chest.

  “I knew you would bring it,” Gart said. “You are indeed loyal servants.” But when he took the items out of the Shanks’ hands, his whole demeanor changed. His cackle of laughter—pure delight infused with malevolence. The Shanks glanced at each other then stared at Gart.

  “When I become ruler of the Inner Realm, I’ll award you the red robe. You will be my most trusted servants.”

  “You’re to be ruler of the Inner Realm?” Shank Two asked in a small voice not his own.

  “What is to become of Oln?” One demanded.

  Two tilted his head to the side to see One’s face. One spoke with a voice of strength unheard before.

  Gart raised his eyebrows to Shank One. “Oln? Oln can go to the Quarter Realm or anywhere else he likes. As long as I don’t have to see or hear him, I don’t care.”

  “But he is your brother,” One persisted, “and we are his servants.”

  Gart stood up and towered over the Shanks’ heads, waving a piece of parchment in the air. “You are my servants.”

  The Shanks took two paces back. “Sir,” Shank Two said, with a slight bow of his head. He wished they had never signed Gart’s contract. They were so excited about going to the Inner Realm, they would have done anything—agreed to anything, Gart suggested. They could never truly be Oln’s servants. The contract stated Gart could call them back to the Quarter Realm whenever he pleased, and they had to reveal all they had learned of the Inner Realm. Yet, so much time had passed since the signing that over the centuries, they had believed they were free of Gart for all time.

  One looked at his brother with a slight shake of his head as if to say, what have we done? But by the time he’d stopped, Gart was already making his way to the Inner Realm. The Shanks had to scurry to keep up. Neither said a word as they passed through time and space, which was unusual because ordinarily, they oohed and ahed every time they cruised from one realm to the other. They had said many times, they could never tire of the sights, but somehow, those same vistas of absolute nothingness, had lost their appeal.

  ***

  Gart’s form appeared in the inner chamber and behind him, the Shanks. Hankley’s lip began to curl in a smile at the Shanks, but he stopped. The Quarter Realm God’s eyes, still with the hint of amusement, held something Hankley couldn’t place right then, but the Shanks’ expressions really concerned him. They both looked at Hankley as if in a state of terror. What had happened? Had something happened to the boys?

  Hankley opened his mouth to ask the question, but Gart began reading from the book.

  The language confused Hankley at first until realization hit him. It was the language of the ancients. Not only Gart and Oln’s ancestors, but also Azu’s forebears. The creators of all. Again, he regarded the Shanks, their eyes wide with horror as they watched from behind. Hankley felt Oln’s presence before he turned and saw him. His god’s face twisted as if in pain.

  Oln gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m banishing you from this realm, brother. I’ve decided it’s time for me to take your place, and you mine if that’s what you decide.”

  Hankley stepped back, gaping from Oln, to Gart, to the Shanks. His mind raced with questions.

  The Shanks stepped around Gart and ran toward Oln. They fell at his feet. “Please, forgive us, Great Oln, we didn’t know what we were doing.”

  “Of that I’m sure,” Oln said. “Choose now Shank One and Shank Two. Who do you serve?”

  “You are our beloved master,” Shank Two said.

  “Yes Sir, you are our beloved master,” Shank One agreed, and they prostrated on the floor before Oln. “But we have signed a contract to always be Gart’s servants and we must do as he instructs.”

  Laughter exploded from Oln’s mouth. “A contract?” He glared at Gart. “The contract was voided the moment you stepped into my realm. There is no contract.”

  The Shanks got to their knees, surprised relief washing over their previous blank expressions.

  Gart’s cackle rang through the chamber. “You can have them, brother. They are of no more use to me.” He raised his voice and read again from the page.

  Servants, all robe colors, appeared beside and behind Gart.

  Hankley started. Some of the servants were friends and acquaintances he had known for millennium. He gawked at Oln who had closed his eyes. Hankley felt the thoughts his God sent out. Oln was calling all faithful servants to his side. As his servants broke through the entrance to the throne room, the Shanks stood next to Hankley.

  “We didn’t know,” Shank Two whispered. “Our orders were to retrieve the book and gem from Ludo, who was trying to use them against little Terni.”

  “No, we didn’t know what Gart was going to do with the book. We just wanted to save the little boy.”

  “The boys?” Hankley kept his voice low.

  Shank One answered. “The boys are safe for the present.”

  Hankley, again surprised at the authority in Shank One’s tone, was relieved to hear about the boys.

  The two sides looked even. Any other time Oln would crush his little brother and send him to the never regions of the Outer Realm, but whatever the book’s spell was, it made the odds dim for Oln’s side.

  Hankley looked down his lines to the right and then the left of Oln. Faces, previously full
of love, compassion, and humor, were now set and taut.

  Sadness filled his being. This was not them—not who the God’s were, nor their servants. His eyes tried to connect with the men and women in Gart’s line, but none looked directly at him. Instead, they gazed, at either the opposing lines’ sandals, or Gart. When they looked in Oln’s direction, their faces were almost apologetic, but when they looked at Gart, their eyes filled with admiration, pride and awe. Their eyes should hold none of those things.

  All servants loved their gods, but they didn’t follow them unquestioningly. No servant ever gave up their own minds, thoughts, or reasoning capabilities. Oln would never allow his seneschals to go down that route. He would question them, ask them their opinions, and yes, he would punish them sometimes. But being imbued with a lower robe color wasn’t the end of the universe, and anyway it never lasted long. He always gave them some quest to re-attain their standing.

  Although Hankley had not had much to do with Gart, the small amount of interaction he did have, gave him the impression Gart was a happy god. Perhaps a little different from the way he went about things to Oln, but all in all, he was Oln’s brother and compatriot.

  Surely, his servants had choices. Why were they blindly following him? It was the book. That was the only reason Hankley could think of. They were following all right, but not of their own accord.

  “Gart,” Oln said, not raising his voice so much as projecting it across the now greatly enlarged room.

  As Hankley studied and thought about his friends and new enemies, the chamber transformed into what resembled a battlefield.

  “Yes, brother.” Gart lips quivered with a hint of a smirk.

  “Stop this folly and come with me to Azu,” Oln said, as if talking to a human child.

  “It is not folly,” Gart roared so loud even Oln was taken aback. “I will replace you. You cannot say or think it is not time. You have always had the best of the realms and now it is my turn.”

  “Are you threatening your own brother?”

  “If that’s how you want to look at it, yes, I am.”