Keeper of the Realms: The Dark Army (Book 2)

by Marcus Alexander

  ‘How?’ asked Nibbler.

  ‘Because, Hatchling, Poodit drew detailed maps of the old empires and of their old capitals. The Western Mountains – or rather the city known as the Western Mountains – is very, very old. Ancient even. In its time it has been many things. Before it became the city that we know today it used to be the basis of power for Stale the Swallower and the centre of his empire. Poodit has a map of the city and its original boundaries are in this very book. It is, I believe, along these ancient boundaries that Bane has placed his barrier to Portals.’

  ‘Really? Will this map be accurate?’ asked Nibbler.

  ‘Well, probably not a hundred per cent accurate and I’m only basing this thesis on hearsay from other booksellers, scholars and learned philosophers, but if you’re looking for a guide to base your travelling on then I would say that this is your best bet.’

  Finding the page she wanted, Ottoline turned the book so Charlie could better see. It showed a gorgeously detailed map of the Western Mountains and surrounding lands that were spanned by three concentric circles. The names of places were carefully inked in an archaic language that Charlie could not decipher.

  ‘I can’t read this.’

  ‘Of course you can’t,’ said Ottoline. ‘It’s ancient Lyllac and the names on this map are different from today’s. These are the Silent Men, but we now know them as the Slumbering Hills, and this the Roof of the World, or the Western Mountains, and this, of course, was the ancient city of Ackrolisyss –’

  ‘Which is now the city of the Western Mountains, right? See that, Crumble?’ said Charlie. ‘At least back in the day they were more original when it came to the naming of places. None of that New This or New That malarkey.’ She turned her attention to the concentric circles on the map. ‘What are these?’ she asked, tracing her fingers over the lines.

  ‘Boundaries. The largest indicates the furthest border of Stale the Swallower’s Empire of Dawn, the second dictates the metropolitan border, and the smallest circle is Ackrolisyss’s city border.’

  ‘Does the city of the Western Mountains still have the same border?’

  ‘Yes it does, which is what’s so interesting about this second border.’

  ‘The metropolitan border?’

  ‘Yes. We believe – well, when I say “we”, I mean other more educated philosophers – believe that Bane still uses the borders of old. We think that Bane has limited the opening of Portals anywhere within the metropolitan border.’

  A huge grin blossomed across Charlie’s face. This was just the knowledge she had been looking for! ‘Thank you. Really a big thank you. You’ve saved us days with this.’ Charlie turned to Nibbler and Crumble. ‘So what do you guys think, if we Portal to just outside this border and walk from there?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ acknowledged Crumble as he looked at the atlas. ‘It would only take another two days to walk from there to the city.’

  ‘Great,’ said Charlie. ‘Are you familiar with this border?’

  ‘Sure, there are still standing stones that mark the paths into the city. They’ve got to be markers for the old metropolitan border. I never knew what they were for, but it makes sense when you know about these old boundaries.’

  ‘Could you describe a place near one of those stones well enough for me to be able to open a Portal there?’

  Crumble paused to think about it. ‘Yes. Yes I can. There’s a waterfall near one of those stones, but it’s not so close that we’ll be right on top of the border.’

  ‘I’ve got a map that you can take too,’ said Ottoline. ‘And if you wish you’re welcome to use your Will and your Way to travel from my storeroom upstairs. It’s large enough and it’ll mean you’ll be able to leave Shidden Vale discreetly too.’

  ‘Please,’ said Charlie. ‘That would be great.’

  ‘Follow me.’ Ottoline led the way from the room, pausing once to lift a scroll from one of the shelves before herding the three upstairs into a well-lit room that held stacks of books and well-organized parchments. ‘I’m sure this will be large enough for your needs and take this.’ She passed the scroll to Charlie. ‘This map covers the Slumbering Hills, the Great Plains and the Western Mountains. I hope it’s of some help.’

  ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ said Charlie in an attempt to voice her gratitude. ‘You’re one of the few people who have been genuine enough to help me –’

  ‘I appreciate what you’re trying to say,’ interrupted Ottoline. ‘But there’s no need to thank me. I owe a debt of old to the Keepers. They helped my father in his time of need so now I’m simply repaying the favour. If it means anything to you please pay it forward. Whenever you’ve finished whatever it is that you’re attempting to do, don’t forget us ordinary folk.’

  ‘I won’t,’ said Charlie. She took Ottoline’s strong hand in her own and shook it firmly.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ urged Nibbler. ‘Er, seeing how nice Ottoline has been perhaps we shouldn’t open a Portal right to the Western Mountains in case that fire and brimstone thing happens again. I don’t think she’d appreciate it if we burned her shop down.’

  Ottoline raised an eyebrow at that.

  ‘Uh, good point,’ acknowledged Charlie. ‘Where to then?’

  ‘Just take us back to the river near the road that leads to Shidden Vale. It seemed quiet enough and it should be easy for you to find.’

  Charlie nodded. Her hands flashed gold then black and with a quick pulling motion opened a Portal. She blinked when she how dark it was by the riverside. ‘Huh, it’s night already.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’ asked Ottoline.

  ‘No, I just hadn’t realized how late it had grown.’

  ‘The three of you are welcome to spend the night here. I have ample space.’

  ‘No, we’re good,’ said Charlie. ‘And I think that we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality enough as it is.’ She motioned Crumble and Nibbler to go on ahead. ‘Thank you for all you’ve done.’ She gave Ottoline a final nod then jumped through, the Portal flickering shut behind her.

  35

  Gone Fishing

  As Jensen and Sic Boy neared Little Storm’s branch of the Gilded Bank, a Stoman in exquisitely tailored robes pushed the door open and, holding his robes high so that he wouldn’t trip, sprinted down the main thoroughfare towards them.

  ‘Jensen of the Willow?’ he panted.

  ‘Aye, that would be me.’

  ‘I’m the master banker of Little Storm. Please excuse my haste, but I’ve just received word that Charlie Keeper was seen at Shidden Vale!’

  ‘Me thanks,’ said Jensen as he wheeled Sic Boy round. ‘Me thanks ta ya and the Gilded Bank!’

  Not wanting to cover the helpful Stoman in dust, Jensen waited until he was further down the street before kicking Sic Boy into a gallop.

  ‘Why didn’t you take her up on her offer?’ asked Crumble. ‘Don’t you think it would have been wiser to spend the night under a friendly roof rather than pushing on ahead in the darkness?’

  Charlie shrugged. ‘We’re not going to the Western Mountains. Or at least not until dawn. I don’t like the idea of arriving in a dangerous land in the darkness any more than you do.’

  ‘I don’t get it. If that’s the case why didn’t we stay there then?’

  ‘Because as nice as Ottoline was I don’t trust her.’

  ‘But she helped us out,’ protested Crumble.

  ‘Yes she did, and if I ever get the chance to repay her for her kindness I will. But being kind and being trustworthy are two very different things. I’ve been tricked into trusting deceitful people before and it’s not something that I’m willing to risk again.’

  ‘But –’ began Crumble.

  ‘Look I know what you’re going to say. Just believe me when I say the stakes really are too high to take any unnecessary chances.’

  ‘Well, do you trust me?’

  ‘I … I’m not sure,’ admitted Charlie. ‘I think so. You’ve put yourself in danger f
or me and Nibbler so I’d really, really like to think that you’re the nice guy you appear to be. But trust doesn’t come easily to me any more.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence broken only by the warble of the river and the occasional twit-ta-woo of owls.

  ‘Soooo … we’ll be making camp here then?’ asked Nibbler, who couldn’t stand the uneasy atmosphere.

  ‘Yes,’ said Charlie. ‘We’ll crash here and make our move first thing in the morning.’

  When they were certain they were hidden from the roadside they set up camp and started a small fire, an activity Charlie had grown used to over the past couple of days, and which reminded her of her first days in Bellania. Crumble, constructing a makeshift rod from a branch, settled down for some serious fishing.

  Nibbler, led by his stomach, soon joined him on the riverbank and Charlie, not wanting to be left alone with her dark thoughts, joined them too.

  ‘Who’s Fo Fum?’ asked Charlie as she replayed their earlier conversation with Ottoline in her head.

  ‘I can’t believe neither of you have heard of him,’ said Crumble. ‘I know you’ve both only been in Bellania for a short period of time, but he’s one of those characters who everyone knows.’ Seeing Charlie and Nibbler’s blank expressions he continued. ‘Parents scare their children to sleep with stories of Fo Fum. Mine always used to say: Be good or Fo Fum will come and snatch you away. Do your chores or Fo Fum will come and break all your bones. Go to bed or Fo Fum will pluck your eyeballs from their sockets and gobble them up. He’s the most infamous mercenary in Bellania. Surely you must have heard something about him?’

  Nibbler and Charlie shook their heads.

  ‘How about the children’s rhyme: “Fe-fi, Fo Fum, watch out, watch out, the bad man comes”?’

  ‘I know that one,’ said Charlie, ‘but you’ve got it wrong. It’s: “Fe-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”’

  ‘Where did you hear that?’

  ‘It’s part of a fairy tale that they tell kids back home. That’s the chant that the giant sings when he comes looking for the guy who stole his gold.’

  ‘Well, be that as it may in your realm, this is no fairy tale and Fo Fum is no giant. He’s a man … but like no other. They say he comes from the south. From far beyond the Great Deserts or the Great Veil, and that he lives in the Dark Temple of the Whispering Wind. They say that he was trained by the Blind Monks and that he’s their best student: the only one to survive the Thousand Tests, the only man who can’t be killed.’

  ‘That sounds like more of a tall tale than the one we tell on Earth. Have you ever seen this Fo Fum?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you know of anyone who has seen him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So how do you know he’s real then?’

  ‘Two hours walk from where I live lies a canyon so deep that parts of it never see the sun. My uncle took me there when I was six. Inside were these marks, craters and small pockmarks in the rock, that hadn’t been made by stonesinging. My uncle said this was the site of a great battle when the Hundred Axes fought –’

  ‘Were they any better than the Forty Swords?’ asked Nibbler. ‘Cos they weren’t very good, were they? I mean –’

  ‘Am I telling this story or do you want to talk about what happened in Shidden Vale?’ protested Crumble.

  ‘Uh, sorry. Carry on.’

  ‘It was where the legendary Hundred Axes, who were very skilled warriors –’ Crumble paused to give Nibbler a don’t-you-dare-say-anything look – ‘fought Fo Fum. They say the battle was so fierce that it went on for two whole days and nights and that Fo Fum was the only one to leave that place alive. They say those marks were made by his fists and his staff.’

  ‘How do they know that?’ persisted Charlie. ‘Couldn’t it just have been some funny marks in the rock that people made a story about?’

  ‘Charlie, it was hand marks in the rock. You could see the fingers, the width of the palm, you could see everything. And the prints were deep in the rock. Some of them were so deep I could stick my hand in up to my forearm before I could reach the impression. I saw it. I was there and believe me when I tell you that they were real. Just think about it for a minute – Fo Fum doesn’t stonesing, but he’s so strong that he can punch into rock completely unaided. Now, I don’t know about you, but that scares me.’

  ‘So you think this Fo Fum was there and he really took out these Hundred Axes?’ asked Nibbler.

  ‘Someone made those marks.’

  There was silence as they imagined how powerful someone had to be to do that to rock without stonesinging or the Will and the Way. A sudden splash of water and the jerking of Crumble’s fishing rod interrupted their thoughts. Grinning, Crumble hauled in his catch.

  ‘Now that’s a fish!’ he said with relish. ‘If we catch a couple more like that we’ll have enough for a royal feast.’

  Charlie’s stomach rumbled at the idea. Barbequed fish also conjured up memories of her first day in Bellania: being chased by Sic Boy, falling off the waterfall, meeting all the Tremen and sharing their beautifully prepared meal beneath the trees of Deepforest. Her smile faded as she remembered how Stotch had died soon after that event. Dark thoughts so briefly pushed aside returned with a vengeance.

  ‘Crumble, Nibbler, we’ll rest tonight, but tomorrow we make our move. Things are going to have to move a lot faster from this point on.’

  Nibbler looked up with a haunted expression on his face and Crumble hesitated as he lowered his fishing hook into the river.

  ‘Crumble, will you look at the map and see if you can find –’

  ‘Enough, Charlie, that’s enough,’ insisted Crumble. ‘We’ll both help you the best we can. I’ll look at that map with you tomorrow and we’ll find a safe place to open the Portal, but right here, right now, let’s try to enjoy ourselves.’

  Charlie frowned at him. ‘Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand what’s at risk?’

  ‘Of course I get it, Charlie. Your parents, the return of the Winged Ones, a chance to return Bellania to a state of peace – all of that good stuff. And I’ll help you get there, but not all of this has to be bad. Life’s too short to dwell on sorrow. If you fill your stomach with nothing but anger, hate and regret then that’s what you’ll turn into: an angry, hateful, regretful person. My uncle used to say “The wound that bleeds inwardly is the most dangerous”. I never knew what he meant, but having seen what you’re putting yourself through I finally understand. Charlie, you’re your own worst enemy.’

  Charlie hesitated. She wanted to say something to defend herself, but felt that if she opened her mouth she’d only make matters worse.

  ‘Charlie,’ said Nibbler with a gentle voice, ‘he’s right. I can’t stand to see what you’re doing to yourself either and I’m afraid that I’m going to lose my best friend because of it. You’ve been surrounded by darkness for so long that you’ve taken it into yourself. You’re becoming as menacing as the people we fight and that’s just not who you are.’

  Charlie couldn’t deny that what they said had a grain of truth to it, but how could they say such a thing? Didn’t she have the right to change after all that she had endured? She felt the unbearable pressure of responsibility, always bubbling in the back of her mind, build to the point where she thought her head would explode. With it came a feeling of anger and a strong need to express herself.

  She opened her mouth, but before she could vent an image of her grandma’s kitchen, very much unexpected, appeared in her mind’s eye. It was a vivid memory of better times when her parents were still around. And although the kitchen was empty she could tell that her gran had just been in there. She could see the flour-coated kitchen top, the rolling pin so recently used. The memory was so strong that she could smell the scent of fresh baking, and lingering in the air was the aroma of her mother’s perfume. With that reminder came a sudden peace that lulled her heart. Re
laxing from her tense position she shut her mouth.

  Then she opened it again. ‘It’s not easy. It’s not! They’ve taken everything from me, even the promise of any return to normality, of ever having a regular life. All of that has been stolen from me. But you’re right. You’re both right, I can’t go on like this.’ She paused to gather her thoughts. ‘I can’t allow this darkness to consume me. But I can’t give it up either. I need it. If I’m ever going to stand up to Bane or if I ever meet Darkmount again I’m going to need it. So help me. Help me find a balance, one where I can use this thing inside me but still be … me.’

  ‘I won’t leave you, Charlie,’ said Nibbler. ‘I’ll always be here.’

  ‘Erm … I can’t match that.’ Crumble grinned ruefully. ‘I’ve got a family and, while I don’t necessarily get on well with my father, I love my rock brothers and sisters, and there’s still a lot that I can learn from my uncle. So I won’t always be there for you, but I think that I’d like to be your friend, Charlie. And if I help you in the future it’ll be for friendship and not out of respect for your profession.’

  Crumble leaned across the campfire with an open hand. Charlie took it and gripped it and, unable and unwilling to ignore his honest smile, found herself cracking a grin too.

  ‘So we’re going to blow some steam off tonight and get back on with the game plan tomorrow?’ she asked.

  Crumble nodded as he added some fresh bait to his hook. ‘Now that sounds like a plan. Time off every once in a while can’t be a bad thing.’

  ‘Great,’ agreed Nibbler. ‘I’m all about the relaxing time. So can we get on with the fishing now? I’m getting those growing pangs again.’