The Realms Beyond

by Bo Burnette

  Philip knelt beside her as a sob shuddered through her chest.

  The sun had long set by the time Arliss trailed Philip back to camp. Smoke from a campfire wafted towards her nose, bringing with it the aroma of charred fish. Her stomach warbled. She hadn’t eaten since they left Reinhold that morning.

  But as they approached the camp, the fire was little more than smoldering embers. Shadowy figures darted about the trees, and Arliss squinted at them, trying to determine who was who.

  Why wasn’t there a fire going? She folded her arms, trying to hold in her body’s heat and block out the November wind. It felt milder than in Reinhold, but not by much.

  Erik’s sudden appearance beside her almost made her gasp in surprise. “You’re back.”

  “Yes.” She shivered. “Where’s the fire?”

  He groaned. “We had one a few moments ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ilayda happened.”

  Arliss chortled. “Ilayda’s always happening.”

  He nodded. “Truer words were never spoken. Apparently she tried to put some strange wood on the fire, but all it did was choke out the flames. Brallaghan is out looking for more wood—alone.”

  “I can hear you, silly boy.” Ilayda’s voice came from the near shadows. Erik and Arliss both ignored her.

  “I know there’s plenty of wood among the ruins,” he said, “But I thought it best to leave those alone.”

  “Yes, that is best. For now.”

  A spark flashed several feet in front of them, illuminating a couple of faces for a split second. Then a second spark erupted and caught flame. Brallaghan and Philip knelt over the fire, coaxing it back to life. The flickering flame cast Philip’s sharp features with orange light.

  Arliss slid onto a log beside Ilayda. Erik made the rounds, offering everyone fish, and more fish, and then a splash of water to wash it down. Arliss had to restrain herself from wolfing the simple meal. Even halfway-decent food tastes like a feast when you are truly hungry.

  As everyone finished the meal, Arliss addressed Brallaghan. “Your father kept how many men with him?”

  “Three, plus the prisoner. They will take turns guarding him.”

  But there was no need to waste her crew guarding a prisoner who could easily be kept here, on the beach. If they brought him to the camp, things would be easier.

  And—she had to admit—the spy intrigued her. He had been places and knew things. And it wasn’t just his connection with Thane. He could be a door to understanding so many things, even the isle itself.

  But, of course, someone wouldn’t be too keen on letting the dog from its cage.

  Before releasing her next words, Arliss looked warily at Philip. He sat staring into the fire, chewing his fish meditatively. She looked again at Brallaghan. “Perhaps if he was brought ashore there would be more of us to guard him.”

  Philip’s eyes instantly fled the fire. “What did you just say?”

  “I’m not repeating it.” She tilted her head. “I only speak to those who are listening.”

  “Why would we bring him ashore?” Brallaghan asked. “If he escaped, he’d just dodge us all over this isle.” He peered at the surrounding shadow. “This is a large bit of land.”

  “I know, and you’re right,” she said. “But hear me out. If we kept him at camp, he might tell us things we need to know. For instance—what wood is and isn’t useful for building a fire?”

  Erik coughed. Ilayda reddened beyond the fire’s glowing cast.

  “He says he’s an explorer. Perhaps he knows some secrets.”

  Philip sat up straight. “If he does know any secrets, do you really think he’s going to tell you?”

  “It’s worth a try. After all, he knows where Thane went. He may know more about the treasures than we do.”

  “You can’t trust him, Arliss.” Philip’s eyes pierced through the flame and smoke between them. “You cannot trust him.”

  “I don’t have to trust him. I just have to get him to talk.”

  The conversation ended. Brallaghan prodded the flames with a fresh log, Philip stood to see about crafting a shelter, and Erik collected everyone’s trenchers. With an almost reproachful glance at the fire, Ilayda stood and stepped away from the campsite and to the beach. Arliss followed her.

  They stared out at the endless ocean and the comparatively tiny ship. Arliss hummed a few bits of “A princess on a smooth-hewn throne.” A pair of gulls swooped low, wings nearly skimming the dark waves.

  Ilayda exhaled. “I wonder what the other side of the isle looks like.”

  “Much like this side, I suppose.”

  “And I wonder what lies beyond the other side?”

  “I don’t know,” Arliss admitted. She focused on the ship. “But I know someone who does.”

  Chapter Sixteen: A Number of Fights

  ARLISS STEPPED SLOWLY BELOWDECKS, HOISTING THE LANTERN SHE had collected from Lord Brédan. Philip staggered behind her, muttering sleepily.

  “Did it have to be this early?” He rubbed his eyes. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  “But I am.” She strode around the staircase, casting her light throughout the shadowy room on either side. A pair of eyes flickered from behind wooden bars. So he, too, was awake at this early hour. Splendid.

  “Good morning, Orlando.” She set the lantern down on a barrel beside the cargo closet. His blanket was rolled up neatly in the corner of the compartment. “I trust you slept well?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I can sleep most anywhere, with most anyone, if I must. So, yes, I made do.”

  “Excellent.” She tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “I’ve got a proposition for you. I would like someone to guide me over this isle. You would like to be freed from that cell. Fine. All you have to do is tell me where Thane is.”

  “So I tell you where he went, and I go free?”

  “Not free,” Philip interjected. “Call it independent custody.”

  “You will still be guarded as any prisoner should be,” Arliss explained. “But you will stay in our camp, share our meals, and join us in our exploration.”

  Orlando mused, eyes narrowed. He rubbed his fingerless gloves together as a flash of realization flickered across his face. He nodded slowly. “All right. I accept your deal. However tedious you may be, staying with you on the isle will be far better than this cramped barrel closet.”

  “It’s very kind of you to accept my offer.” She smiled. “So, where is Thane?”

  He fingered his jerkin where the twin knives had once been sheathed. “You guessed it well enough yourself. Couldn’t you see where his ship was headed? He has constructed a temporary base in the far northern mountains of Reinhold.”

  Philip wheezed out a slow breath. “Of course. No wonder he’s was able to keep commanding those ragged bands all this time.”

  Arliss froze. If Thane really was based in Reinhold, what could or would he do? Couldn’t he march upon the city any time he liked? Her parents had no idea what might be coming.

  She hovered the key over the keyhole of Orlando’s cell. “Is Thane planning to attack Reinhold from the north?”

  After a moment of deliberation, Orlando shook his head. “No, not that he has mentioned to me. He is biding his time.”

  “Waiting for what?” Philip demanded.

  “The darkest hour,” Orlando said. “The bleakest moment. The time when all the gifts of Reinhold lie within his grasp.”

  Arliss breathed a sigh of relief. Orlando’s eyes held a glimmer of truth. Her city was safe—for the time being, at least.

  Philip folded his arms. “All right, let him out. But under one condition.”

  The nip of the November morning had left, leaving behind a gentle coolness that drifted across the beach. Philip grinned—perfect weather for both fighting and exploring. Everyone would be happy.

  Arliss still patrolled the fringe of the beach, her arms folded, her jaw set. Well, she wasn’t happy, but that wa
s no surprise. It wasn’t as if he could do anything about it.

  Orlando scuffed his bare feet in the sand opposite Philip. “Are you ready, Reinholdian?”

  “Whenever you are, Sir Wherever-you-come-from.”

  A smirk spread across Orlando’s cheeks. He unfastened the clasps of his leather jerkin and tossed it far to the side. Then he gripped the edge of his long-sleeved linen shirt, lifted it over his head, and tossed it atop the jerkin.

  Philip followed suit before sizing up his opponent.

  While Orlando was at least as strappingly built as Philip, he wasn’t quite as tall. In fact, Philip doubted whether he had any height on Arliss. The buoyancy of his short, fair hair put him just under Philip’s eyebrows. However, what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in sheer athleticism. Every muscle on his body looked hardened by years of training.

  “Well?” Philip nodded at his opponent.

  Orlando shrugged. “What d’you want to know?”

  “The move you used to flip me on the ship.”

  With one more inspection of Philip, Orlando sucked in a breath. He slammed his fist into Philip’s bare chest, then gripped Philip’s shoulder and leapt up to plant his bare feet in Philip’s stomach.

  Philip buckled inwards, jumping back into a defensive pose to prepare for the next attack. “I said the move you used on the ship.”

  “A real fight isn’t staged.” Orlando spun towards Philip, groping for his arm.

  Philip stood ready this time. He reached for the outstretched left arm with his right one, twisting it out of the way. Orlando’s punch still fell squarely on his cheekbone.

  He jerked back and lost his hold on Orlando’s other arm.

  In that moment, Orlando dropped to his knees on the sand, hooked his arms behind Philip’s knee, and gave a fierce jerk.

  But Philip was ready. He dropped onto his free knee and hooked his arm around Orlando’s throat. He flexed his arm and tightened the choke hold.

  Orlando scrambled to break the choke.

  Sand flew all around them.

  Arliss paced the edge of the beach, casting an irritated glance in the direction of the fight every few moments. This was ridiculous. With every second he fought, Philip was eating up precious time. Every second that ticked by stole one more second from her mission.

  By the time they would finish sparring, it would no doubt be time for lunch. They would all linger over the meal, laughing and cooling down, as she once again paced about the campsite, urging them to hurry up. She closed her eyes and sighed. This expedition wasn’t turning out how she had planned—not hardly.

  Of course, she didn’t have to stick around watching the two boys smack each other a hundred times.

  She glanced about the beach and the campsite, then turned her gaze to the tropical forest that stretched towards the heart of the island. What if she went exploring on her own? No one would know at first, and perhaps Philip would even feel guilty for leaving her to do all the work on her own.

  She nodded to herself as she reached down to pick up her quiver. She had already laced the leather jerkin around her linen traveling dress, which Ilayda had washed the previous evening. As she tightened the quiver around her waist, she cast one more look at the fight.

  They both brawled on, digging deep ruts in the sand as they darted back and forth. Yells erupted from them occasionally but both wore devious grins. They looked almost like they were having fun.

  This was, she realized, the first time she’d seen Orlando without that confounded burgundy cape. He looked a fair sight nicer without it.

  And Philip, his sweaty brown hair and skin gleaming in the sunlight…

  She turned her head. Philip could have his fun.

  She had adventuring to do.

  Orlando panted, taking several steps back. The fight—or was it still just a lesson?—had worn on for several minutes already, plenty of time to make a quick assessment: Philip was a worthy opponent, but he couldn’t beat Orlando. They were deadlocked.

  Apparently the same thought had just crossed Philip’s mind as well. “What do you say—call it a tie?” He placed his hands on his thighs, sucking air in and out in deep draughts.

  Orlando felt the fresh bruise on his right side. “I think that might be the best choice.”

  Philip stretched out an open hand, and Orlando clenched it tightly for a long moment.

  “Good fight,” Philip nodded with a grin.

  “Decent fight, I would say. We’re a bit too evenly matched.” He hesitated, releasing the handshake. “With some proper training, you could best me yet.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Oh, of course. With proper training, most people can do most things.”

  “And where would I get this ‘proper training’ you’re talking about?”

  Orlando bit his tongue. “From me, I suppose.”

  “No, I mean, where did you get your training?”

  “That’s none of your business.” Orlando started to walk across the beach to retrieve his shirt and jerkin.

  Philip jogged after him. “I want to know who you are, where you come from. Arliss wants to know.”

  “Arliss can find out for herself if it’s so important.” He tugged the linen shirt over his torso. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “You will tell me—prisoner.” The tension in Philip’s voice pierced Orlando’s senses.

  He finished fastening the jerkin around his chest, then tilted his head up at Philip. “Are you asking for another fight? Because I thought we just finished all that.”

  Philip grabbed his arm.

  Orlando tensed, but didn’t try to break free. What was this fellow all about? He chuckled softly. “I don’t know what experience you have with people of other clans, prisoners of war, and the like, but this isn’t how the rules work. I’m not obliged to tell you anything.”

  Philip lifted an eyebrow. “That’s not how things work in Reinhold.”

  “We are not in Reinhold, though, are we?”

  “This is an isle claimed by the crown of Reinhold.”

  Orlando laughed again. How foolish were all these Reinholdian imbeciles? They really thought this place belonged to them. “This is not a Reinholdian claim. It’s been claimed by others for far longer than even you have been alive.”

  “What others?”

  “That is not your business. How thick-skulled are you? I’m not telling you anything.”

  Philip’s teeth clenched behind parted lips. He seemed about ready to crush Orlando into the sand. Orlando’s mouth twisted with a wary smile.

  The brown-haired girl approached. “Philip, that’s enough. Since Arliss isn’t here at the moment, I’ll take her place in scolding you.”

  Fear clouded Philip’s face. His voice almost tottered as he spoke. “Ilayda, where is Arliss?”

  Ilayda scanned the clearing. “She was just here. I assumed…”

  He looked for where her bow and quiver had lain earlier by the campfire. That spot was now empty. He scrambled from the beach to the clearing, pulling his tunic back on before strapping his sword around his waist.

  Orlando followed, amused. In his haste, Philip hadn’t bothered to rebind him.

  “She’s run off, of course.” Philip spoke to no one but himself. “And it’ll be my fault if something happens to her.”

  “May I help?” Orlando offered, and Philip’s head snapped up in surprise. “I know every inch of this island. I can help you find her.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Philip muttered.

  Orlando crossed his arms. Of course, that seemed likely enough.

  Philip cast him one more tenuous glare. Then he addressed his cousin—the one with the longbow. “Bind him, and bring him along. Ilayda, you come, too. Brallaghan and the rest, stay and guard the campsite. If you have any trouble—” he reached down and picked up a carynx “—do not hesitate to call for us.”

  Orlando fingered the empty slots where his knives should
have been. This was excellent, excellent indeed. As long as he was with the company—as long as he had his eyes on Arliss—they would not find out the truth about the isle.

  Chapter Seventeen: The Isle's Secrets

  ARLISS PULLED HERSELF UP THE SHARPLY SLANTED HILL. Drooping trees, wild grasses, and blackened rocks crowded the sloping terrain about her and nearly blocked out her view of the sun. Above her, the volcano’s dormant peak still towered. Surely this hill did not lead straight up the mountain—or did it? Gripping a tree for support, she looked back down the hill. Not a sound or sight had followed her, and she hoped it would stay that way. She took a step forward.

  The ground suddenly sloped away beneath her feet. She skidded, groping for a hold on something. Grassy gravel crunched beneath her boots as she slid all the way down the other side of the hill, nearly falling on her back. She barely managed to pull herself to a halt on a massive boulder at the bottom. She dug her fingertips into the stone as her feet found flat ground.

  When she recovered her breath, she took in her surroundings. The wide, airy clearing that opened around her held few trees or plants. Instead, rocky hillsides sloped down on every side like a bowl, with a lake at its bottom. The water lapped only a pace from her boots. On the far side of the expanse, the volcano stretched up towards the sky.

  So this was the center of the island. Beyond the other side of this concave lake lay the other side of the isle—the dark side. The side she had no memory of ever seeing.

  “Well, now the adventure really begins, doesn’t it?”

  Somewhere out on the beach, a seagull cawed a response.

  She started walking around the edge of the lake. Although the terrain was scarred with uneven stone and sediment, her thick-soled boots made the walk feel leisurely. She was only halfway to the other side when she spotted something: an arched opening in the base of the hill. It was about the height and width for one person to pass through—just her height, she realized as she reached it. She peered into the hole. Within, darkness piled in layers for at least a dozen paces, but beyond the darkness lay a glimmer of light—not quite an out-of-doors glimmer, but a glimmer all the same. What could lie within? If any of the treasures were really on the isle, surely they would be in a secret place. Perhaps they were even in a vault like the one beneath the waterfall in Reinhold.