Opal Summerfield and The Battle of Fallmoon Gap

by Mark Caldwell Jones

  Its entrance had an imposing door fit for a giant. It was cracked open and busy people, like tiny priests tending the throne of a mountain god, moved in and out.

  “Are we still in the Ozarks?” Opal asked.

  “The wardens call this realm Arcania,” Eltheon said. “It sits within and outside everything you’ve grown up knowing.”

  “Fallmoon Gap…Arcania. But I’ve never heard of any of these places?”

  “By design, of course. You have been living along a rift in the Veil.”

  “A rift in what? Where? What are you talking about?” Opal stammered.

  “Look, I’ve already said too much. I’m not the best tour guide. I’m just the deputy Warden assigned to your area of this realm. That’s why I was sent to help you. There are many other people more qualified who can explain things a lot better,” Eltheon said.

  Opal just laughed.

  “Yeah, well, whoever is qualified, I think I’ll need that explanation right now!”

  “Well I can give it a shot!” a woman said from behind the girls.

  Opal turned to face the very familiar voice, but no one was there.

  “You’ve been a good student so far. Let’s see if you’re ready for something a bit more advanced.”

  Ms. Trudy Freeg, Opal’s favorite teacher, swirled into existence right in front of her.

  “Miss Trudy!” Opal shouted. “How did you get here?” Opal wrapped the woman up in a smothering bear hug.

  “Oh, Opal! I’ve been waiting an eternity for you. Thank the Veil you are finally here!” she said. “There is so much to discuss. Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

  “Do you live here?”

  Opal was still holding on to the woman. She was amazed to see someone she knew from Grigg’s Landing standing in this dream of a city.

  “Why yes, isn’t it a piece of heaven?” Ms. Trudy said, admiring the view. She peeled Opals arms away gingerly and took her by the hand.

  “Absolutely!” Opal was amazed. “But how is that possible? You teach in Grigg’s Landing everyday.”

  “Only a trifle of a walk by the rift tunnels. If you know the way, that is. I heard you got a bit lost.”

  “A little? I’d say a heck of a lot.”

  “Well, we can prevent that with some proper tutoring. But we’ll save that for later.” Ms. Trudy turned to Eltheon. “Warden, will you join us?”

  “Thank you very much, but I have other business. I will see you later Opal. Once again, welcome!” Eltheon beamed, then winked at Opal. She turned and jogged toward the cathedral.

  “Who is that girl?” Opal asked.

  “She is a very important member of what is called the Protectorate. Her title is Deputy Warden of Arcania. I assume you’ve been introduced. Her name is Eltheon Rosewing. She came to Fallmoon Gap as a baby, abandoned at our gates by her parents. By all accounts, she is a very fierce warrior. She’s risen fast through the ranks.”

  “An orphan? Like me?”

  “Yes, most of the elite Wardens tend to be. Strange custom, but it is their way,” Ms. Trudy said.

  “There are a lot of strange things I don’t know about,” replied Opal.

  “You’ve never been like the other Ozarkers, Opal. They tend to accept their world as normal, even when their own minds bend away from that belief.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever accepted that I was normal.”

  “Precisely. And what a wonderful thing to be so sure of,” she said.

  Opal laughed. Her birth, her lack of personal history, the feeling of forever being an outsider, the hawk, the necklace, the witch, the tragedy, the wereboars—there was a seemingly endless list of things that pointed to something very strange at work in her life.

  “Opal, if you could sprout wings, like our beloved Kawa, and fly out over Grigg’s Landing and look at the homesteads and tiny parcels of land around your little town, you would realize that you’re not the only strange thing in that part of the world. For decades, those industrious hill people have enclosed themselves in a bubble of happy refuge, protected from the dark mysteries beyond Devil’s Alley. It was truly an unconscious act. But even so, they have constructed a town just shy of some very big rifts in what we call the Veil.”

  Ms. Trudy explained that the Veil was like a river. It was the source of all magic, and it flowed in parallel to the world Opal had known her whole life. The Veil streamed through all and everything. Its tributaries snaked out into a myriad of places and poured its magic into lucky little worlds, one of which was the realm of the Ozark Mountains.

  Fallmoon Gap was a foundational nexus along the Veil’s route, and there were other realms, in other places, with their own fascinating cultures, people, and creatures.

  Miss Trudy continued, “The Veil is finicky. It reverses course and pools up in turbulent eddies of energy, producing unstable pockets of magic. Sometimes these pockets rip open, and like water escaping a faulty dam, magic leaks out unrestrained.

  All of these strange occurrences require supervision, and to that end, an organization based in Fallmoon Gap, called the Protectorate, manages the conservation of all this magic and protects the social order from the misuse of its power.”

  When Opal understood these things, some answers fell into place like puzzle pieces.

  “Oh girl, look at those brilliant blue eyes. Your eyes are as wide as saucers. I see that you are beginning to understand.”

  “Maybe.” Opal wondered.

  “Opal, you’ve been living in a quaint port—not of the White river, but one of the Veil’s hidden, magical realms called Arcania. Most importantly, you were born in Fallmoon Gap. You’re a Veilian, like me.”

  Every time Miss Trudy revealed a new truth, Opal had a flood of new questions. She was determined to uncover every secret that remained. But Miss Trudy suddenly interrupted the lesson.

  “Oh heavens. I almost forgot. This is for you. I should have given it to you immediately!”

  Miss Trudy withdrew a massive rolled parchment from her dainty handbag. It was the size of a baseball bat. She handed it to Opal. Opal found it unwieldy. She began to untie the bright red ribbon around it.

  “Oh dear, let me help with that. Hold it please.” Ms. Trudy brought forth her old blackboard pointer. Opal had seen her use it in class, but not like this. She flicked and swooshed it like a conductor leading a band. She tapped the ribbon with its point. The scroll flew out of Opal’s hands and hovered before her. The ribbon untied and the scroll unrolled itself.

  The words of the scroll illuminated as it read itself in a sweet, grandmotherly voice:

  To Miss Opal Summerfield,

  Formerly known as the child Ashiah,

  Dear Ms. Summerfield,

  We present to you the Interiorium of Fallmoon Gap. We hope you will spend a moment to marvel at its wonders. Few outposts of the Veil astound the senses in such peculiar ways. By birthright, your citizenship in said city is hereby reinstated. This honor includes admission to the great cathedral for the study of its magical mysteries.

  Furthermore, you are immediately and forthwith enrolled in the Protectorate Academy as an apprentice-level Warden. Your training will start immediately. A very special room of honor has been prepared for you in the Protectorate wing of the Cathedral. Your training advisor is Deputy Warden Eltheon Rosewing.

  Please be advised that you are currently carrying a very rare powerstone that may need special handling and training. We request that you discuss this matter with the Elder-Prime, Jakob Prismore, as soon as you are able.

  Welcome to our lovely city.

  May all that is good bless and keep you,

  The Settlement League of Fallmoon Gap

  When she finished reading the notice, it snapped back into a tight scroll, as if it were spring-loaded, and transformed into a woven basket of flowers, fruit, and other nice little odds and ends, all stuffed into a tuft of dry green moss, and tied up with more ribbons.

  A large notecard with her name in beautiful
scrolling script was pinned to the basket. On the inside, she could see what looked like a little map of the city.

  “Oh dear me, those little ladies do think of everything!” Miss Trudy picked up the basket and admired it. “Well, I’m sure this is a lot to take in. But please don’t worry. I’m going to give you a full tour of our city and a complete primer on the Veil. I’ll walk you through all of it.”

  Opal was not concerned. Far from it. In one brief letter, the questions of a lifetime were answered. She had found her home, her birthplace, even her original name. She had just been ambushed by history, and it was exhilarating!

  The lecture and the letter answered so much. It even explained what happened next.

  Opal grabbed the handle of the basket and disappeared.

  Thankfully, Opal reappeared seconds later, a bit jostled, but all in one piece.

  She landed in her new bedchamber inside the cathedral. It had a grand view. Two of the room’s walls were spanned by enormous windows. One side looked out upon the city center. The other looked into an impressive courtyard with a gigantic tree in its center. There was a small, canopied feather bed, a tiny desk, and a room for washing and dressing. The space was very small but filled with special luxuries. She was very pleased.

  There was a knock at the door. A small gnome-like woman entered the room carrying a tray of food. There was a bundle of clothing across her arm.

  “Good evening, dear. I’m sorry to say you have missed dinner in the dining hall. But here is some refreshment, and your clothing for tomorrow.” The woman laid it all out for Opal.

  “If you require anything else this evening, please ring. My name is Mrs. Kitfell.” The woman presented Opal with a small quartz-crystal hand bell, curtsied, and immediately dashed away.

  Opal found places for her meager possessions. She put her slingshot on a small nightstand, slid her Double-Q Composition book under one of her pillows, and hid her leather satchel in a small cubby.

  She grabbed a buttery roll from the tray and sat down to watch the busy people of Fallmoon Gap scurry through the center of the city. She saw something else through the other window. As the light of day faded, what had appeared to be seed cones at the end of the limbs slowly swelled and twinkled with light, it seemed like the tree cradled tiny stars in its needle-like hands.

  Opal felt a surge of recognition she could not explain. She had never felt like this in Grigg’s Landing, even though she had tried to force the feeling on herself.

  Home, her heart whispered.

  It was that simple—she had finally found her true home.

  61

  Fig’s workshop had one last occupant. The Ranger waited patiently until the young Warden left. The big kid looked extremely troubled. He understood that look, and it made him curious about what was going on.

  When the warden was finally out of sight, he slipped in from the garden entrance. He hadn’t seen Fig in a very long time, but it seemed nothing had changed—his workshop was a massive collection of crazy inventions. Some of them were familiar, others brand new.

  He began picking up weapons and devices as if he were shopping at the Olivers’ store. Soon his possibles bag was full, and when he had everything he needed, he disappeared back into the night.

  Then he saw the firehorse staked near the wall.

  62

  The next morning, Opal was sent to meet with Eltheon Rosewing. She found the girl in one of large open-air terraces that looked out on the western waterfall. The air was crisp and scented with pine. Eltheon’s eyes flashed with excitement when Opal appeared from around the corner.

  “How are you doing this morning, newcomer?” Eltheon asked. She was all smiles.

  “Fantastic!” Opal replied.

  “Well its about to get better.”

  “Training, right? I wondered. Wardens, the Protectorate, all of this—well it’s a bit beyond me.”

  “This is a special thing that is happening. I’m going to be working with you. Just us, one on one. You see, normally the Wardens of the Protectorate take a whole class of people through training at once. It’s a great honor to be chosen. However, for you, the rules have been adjusted a tiny bit. Our Elder-Prime, Jakob Prismore, has asked that we put you through right away. So the bad news is that you are the only one in your class. The good news is that you start today!”

  “To be honest, I don’t understand half of what is happening, but I’m ready to give anything a chance.”

  She felt excited to have Eltheon’s undivided attention. “So…what’s first?”

  “Basic Warden Training starts with, well, the basics. I’m going to help you learn to defend yourself.”

  “You mean like you defended me in the tunnel?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  Opal felt her excitement flagging. The offer to learn self-defense would have been appealing days ago, when she was scared out of her mind, but now things had changed. She didn’t want anything to do with arrows, daggers, blood, and killing.

  “Eltheon, I like you, but maybe I spoke too soon. I’ll pass on this offer.”

  She didn’t understand her own feelings. She had only been in Fallmoon Gap a day, but it had made her feel free—protected from all the old danger.

  I don’t want to stir all that back up, she said to herself.

  Bad things and bad people were things she wanted to forget.

  I don’t think you can do that, Opal, Eltheon cautioned. She heard the girl’s voice from within her own mind.

  She was put off at Eltheon’s presumptuousness. And it was a little creepy that she was talking to her without speaking.

  “Really? You don’t know me, Eltheon. I’m going to do whatever the heck I want!” Opal snapped back.

  “It is the conviction of Jakob, and the Council Prime, the leaders of the Protectorate, that it would be wise to train you to defend yourself.”

  Opal experienced a flicker of affinity for that idea—it seemed like a smart one—but she resented being told what to do and pressed her point.

  “What you mean to say is that I would learn to kill, like you did in the rift tunnel. No. It’s not going to happen!”

  Eltheon looked at Opal with compassion. “Opal, nothing is going to happen here without your consent. I know you’ve been through a lot of horrible things.”

  “That’s right, and I don’t want that anymore.”

  “It is hard to see what will unfold, but it is clear to those who lead the Wardens that you need training.”

  “You don’t understand. I’m just sixteen years old for goodness sake.”

  “And I’m seventeen. Age has nothing to do with it. You need to be able to stop those that would do you or your loved ones harm.”

  “A little too late for that, ain’t it?” she said crassly. Her little sparks of frustration were starting a blaze. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

  “And that is a good thing! Everyone agrees with you. Violence is not the path. But Opal, this is not just about being able to handle yourself.”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s about channeling the dangerous magic of that powerstone!” Eltheon pointed to Opal’s necklace.

  Opal felt cornered by Eltheon’s logic. The stone is dangerous, she thought, and I have no idea how to control it. She was ignoring that truth.

  After months of living with the necklace, it was increasingly hard to dismiss the gemstone’s power. The strange rock was alive. It acted as if it had its own mind—it seemed to have a personality. It reacted to the rhythms of her own heart, especially when she was compromised or vulnerable.

  The stones workings were beyond her comprehension, but she accepted its mysteries implicitly, like one relates to one’s own hand. She trusted it, even if she didn’t know how it worked, even if it was dangerous. But to Opal, this relationship needed no explanation.

  It is part of me, she thought.

  Eltheon watched Opal, and Opal stared back at Eltheon, continuing to deliberate. El
theon said nothing for a long time. She seemed to be searching Opal’s mind, testing the current of her emotions.

  “Maybe you are too young,” Eltheon said. She turned her back on Opal and began to walk away.

  A terrible feeling of abandonment washed over Opal. “Why do you think you have anything to teach me about the necklace?” she said. “What the heck do you know?” A sneer wriggled over her lips.

  “You are too naïve, especially for what is coming. But you’ve been lucky. Maybe you can work it out on your own.” Eltheon continued in a dispassionate tone, right up to the line of mockery.

  Opal felt Eltheon’s coldness and took great offense. “Wait! You can’t just leave,” she said angrily. She was both embarrassed and incensed at her sudden flash of neediness.

  “I can and I will. I’ll help you back through the rift tunnels tomorrow. You can make your own way,” Eltheon said in a frosty tone.

  “Why even bring me here, if you were just going to turn around and kick me out? You are just like everyone I’ve met since my family was killed. Everybody wants to tell me what to do. Everyone wants to use me!”

  Opal rushed forward and grabbed Eltheon by the back of her garment.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” she demanded.

  Eltheon turned with great speed and swept Opal’s feet out from under her. Opal landed hard on her butt.

  “What was that for?” she shouted.

  She tried to get to her feet. Eltheon, who was circling her now, kicked Opal in the shoulder with enough force to spin her into a tumble. Opal fell back onto the floor. She rolled forward and righted herself squarely in front of Eltheon.

  Her fist was balled together, and with all her might she threw a right cross, which Eltheon blocked easily. She swung with the left. Blocked again. Eltheon moved in and sidestepped another of Opal’s punches.

  Opal’s rage flared and so did the stone. Magical crimson-fire crackled to life. It crawled out of the stone, down across Opal’s body. Her irises went red. She cocked her fist back to swing. It was covered in a swath of ruby energy.