Land Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  At last they answered the final riddle from the last mouth—which looked like a bullfrog—and it closed with a wet-sounding plop.

  “Whew!” Kyja sighed. “My ears are going to ring for a week.”

  “I know what you mean,” Marcus said, dropping to the floor. “I feel like I can still hear all the voices shouting in my head.”

  “You have done well,” the mouths spoke together. “Before you can truly hear, you must learn to listen.”

  “We hear you,” Marcus said.

  “Then listen well and remember.”

  Kyja stiffened. Would this be another situation where she wished she’d never come?

  “Three will join you,” pronounced a crystal bill. “One will reveal his true nature. One will cross far distances. One will break the bands of death itself.”

  “Betrayal will find you,” spoke a tusked jaw.

  “A key will provide great power and great danger,” growled a furry muzzle.

  “One of you has family seeking you,” spoke a high-pitched feminine voice. Marcus and Kyja looked to each other wide-eyed.

  “Dreams will speak to you,” chirped a tiny beak. “But listen carefully, or be deceived.”

  “One of you is a thief,” grunted the alligator mouth. “One of you is a liar.”

  “Old enemies-s-s will return,” hissed what looked like a dragon.

  “That is all,” the mouths said as one. “You may now ask your question.”

  Kyja took a deep breath. She didn’t understand most of what she’d just heard. What if the answer to their question was just as confusing?

  “Go ahead,” Marcus whispered.

  Kyja swallowed. “Where can we find a land elemental?”

  For a moment all of the mouths were silent. Then they spoke in unison. “You will never find a single land elemental.”

  Interlude

  A Dark Past

  Terra ne Staric

  Dinslith turned on Dolan, his hands bunching the zentan’s robe in anger. “Why have you locked up my master wizard?” he shouted. “You told me he was dead! You lied to me.” He yanked the man toward him.

  A sharp cracking sound split the air, and the high lord was thrown across the hallway in a flash of blinding blue sparks. The fingers he’d been holding the zentan with burned as though he’d just pulled them from a roaring fire.

  “Do not lay hands on a Keeper of the Balance!” Dolan roared, rising to his full height so he looked down on the high lord. “Do not trifle with powers beyond you, or you may soon find the Balance no longer swings in your favor.”

  Dinslith gingerly touched his burned hands together. His protections as high lord should have blocked any damaging spells aimed at him within Terra ne Staric.

  Exactly what he had allowed to enter the gates of his city?

  Master Therapass let his eyes roam the round room beyond the bars of his cell as though seeing something no one else could. “When the Ishkabiddle invites the viper to dine, the Ishkabiddle must first understand what—or who—the main course will be.”

  Zentan Dolan’s face tightened for a moment. Then he clasped his hands, bowed his head humbly, and released a deep sigh. When he looked up at Dinslith, his eyes were again calm. “I apologize, your Lordship. I’m afraid my temper got the best of me. I should have told you of the prisoner’s capture. I was afraid you might interfere based on your friendship. But I did not lie. The man you knew as a trustworthy instructor and faithful advisor is dead. The pitiful creature in that cage has turned against you.”

  “Therapass against me?” The high lord wiped a palm across his damp forehead. He looked to the wizard. “Is this true?”

  Master Therapass moved close enough to the bars of his cell for his face to emerge from the shadows. High Lord Dinslith sucked in a mouthful of air at the sight of his old friend’s face. A ragged scar ran from just above the wizard’s right eyebrow, across his forehead, and disappeared under his shaggy gray hair by his left temple. His cheeks had a sunken, hungry look to them, like Rashden’s. But the old wizard’s eyes flashed in the light of the flickering torch.

  “Have I turned against you?” He tugged on the tip of his beard. “I am against any person or organization that sees fit to place one group of people below another. I am against anyone who believes it is their duty to redistribute power from the low-born to the high-born. I stand firmly against that creature claiming to advise you. But no, I am not against you, High Lord.”

  Dinslith looked from the wizard to the zentan. He felt trapped between two dangerous forces, and his head still buzzed from the force of the shock he’d received from the zentan. The wizard had been a friend and defender to the city all his life.

  “You speak of betrayal,” he said, eyeing the white-robed zentan. “Yet, I have heard no proof. If you feel Master Therapass is guilty of crimes against the tower, we will arrange a trial. Until then, I want him freed at once.”

  “That is not wise.” Zentan Dolan’s voice was soft but carried an icy edge to it that made the high lord uncomfortable. “Your—wizard—has not been honest with you. He has personally upset the balance of Farworld. Has he told you that thirteen years ago, he found the child destined to save our world? Has he told you how he sent that boy to another world called Earth, and then took a girl from that world, upsetting the balance of magic in both worlds and opening the way for the rebirth of the Dark Circle?”

  He laughed at the shocked look on Dinslith’s face. “Ask him to deny it.”

  Dinslith turned to Master Therapass. “Is this true?”

  The wizard nodded. “I saved the boy from certain death at the hands of Thrathkin S’Bae and an army of Fallen Ones. I watched my best friend Tankum fall while protecting the boy from the Dark Circle. Sending the babe to Earth was the only way to preserve his life.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me?” Dinslith asked, stunned that such important information should have been kept from him.

  “Until I understood the situation more completely, it was far too dangerous to both the children and to Farworld to reveal their secret. I hoped the Dark Circle thought they were both dead. If word had gotten out that they were alive, it would have put them in extreme peril.”

  “So the old man says,” the zentan snarled. “Yet for years, he withheld information vital to the well-being of Farworld and conveniently removed the only real threat to the Dark Circle.”

  High Lord Dinslith rubbed his pounding forehead with the tips of his fingers. He found it hard to think here in the dark and cold. It was almost as though the dank walls sucked away his concentration.

  The zentan leaned close to the high lord. “If he speaks the truth, have him prove it. Have him bring the boy and the girl here so you may question them personally.”

  Dinslith nodded to Therapass. “If I free you, you must return the children to us at once. The fate of worlds is not something that rests upon the shoulders of one man.”

  Therapass’s shoulders slumped as he gave a low sigh. “I cannot do that without putting them in extreme danger, High Lord. Even as we speak, they are pursued by the forces of the Dark Circle. If Kyja hadn’t escaped Terra ne Staric when she did, she would have died at the hands of the Thrathkin S’Bae along with the rest of the Goodnuffs.”

  “Kyja?” the high lord asked. “The girl with no magic? What does she have to do with this?”

  “Ask him where she is,” Zentan Dolan said, his eyes glittering. “And why he will not produce the boy.”

  Therapass glared at the zentan then turned to Dinslith. “High Lord, you must trust me. Knowingly or unknowingly, the Keepers are serving the Dark Circle. Do you think it any coincidence that he arrived here the same day as the Thrathkin S’Bae? I dare not say anything more without forfeiting what little safety the children have. But if you set me free, I can help them.”

  “Help them?” Dolan sneered. “Or destroy them once and for all? You speak of fighting against the power of the Dark Circle. You accuse me of serving them. And yet it is
you who cannot be trusted. Don’t you think it’s time you tell the high lord about your true bond with the Master of Lies?”

  Dinslith looked from the wizard to the zentan, clearly confused. “What is he talking about?” he asked his old friend.

  The wizard refused to look away from Dinslith’s gaze, but in the light of the flickering torches, the high lord thought he saw something like pain cross the old man’s eyes. Master Therapass ran a tongue across his cracked lips. “I have made mistakes in the past. And I have learned from those mistakes.”

  Grinning in victory, the zentan took the high lord’s arm in his. “Your so-called master wizard claims to oppose darkness. He claims to have battled to save the child’s life. But it is a lie. He tried to kill the child himself, and when that failed, he sent him as far away as possible, hoping no one would find the boy until it was too late. He says he fights against the Thrathkin S’Bae, but that is a lie as well. He is, in fact a dark wizard himself. He trained with the Dark Circle.”

  Dinslith felt as if he’d been slapped across the face. He turned a desperate gaze on the wizard whom he’d loved like a father. Could such a story be true?

  “Did you . . .” He swallowed—a dry click sounding in his suddenly parched throat. “Did you do what he says?”

  “I did everything I could to save Marcus. I would have gladly joined Tankum in giving my life, if it would have helped,” the wizard said, his voice filled with pain, his eyes wet. “And yes, I once turned to the power of dark magic. It was a mistake I will regret to the end of my life. But I am not a dark wizard. I do not serve the Dark Circle. I have never, nor would I ever, do anything to put Farworld or this city in danger.”

  “Lies!” The zentan shouted. “You speak of equality, but you are the most power-hungry wizard of all. It was your thirst for power that drove you to the side of black magic. Your pride convinced you that you could harness that power without becoming corrupted. You show your dark side every time you turn into a wolf. Beast transformation is what allows the Thrathkin S’Bae to assume their snake form. Only through the corrupt magic of the Dark Circle is such a transformation possible.”

  The zentan pointed a thin, white finger at the wizard. “He has betrayed you, High Lord. Not only did he remove the girl from the city, but he also returned to steal something of great power from you. Allow me to use whatever means necessary to question him, and I will obtain the item.”

  High Lord Dinslith felt sick. His stomach burned, and his brains felt as though they were being sucked from his ears. “What is this item?” he asked dully.

  For a moment the zentan didn’t answer. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Dinslith turned to Therapass. “Give me some reason to believe you. If you have taken something from the tower, admit your crime and plead for the leniency of the court.”

  “I cannot,” the wizard whispered. “I am sorry.” He dropped his eyes. “Perhaps if I had a . . . a drink of water? My throat is parched.”

  The high lord waved his hand, and called out, “Guard!”

  The zentan stepped forward. “Allow me.” At the touch of his hand, the iron door swung open. Upon entering the room, he scooped a ladle of water from a dark wooden bucket. As Dinslith watched him cross the circular room to the cell, he thought for just a moment that something shimmered in the murky gloom. When he blinked, it was gone.

  The zentan approached the cell cautiously and held the dipper to the bars. As the wizard’s fingers closed around it, the zentan jerked the water away, spilling a small puddle onto the dusty stone floor. Dolan’s lips curved in a mocking grin. “Not so fast. First tell me about the item you took. What does it look like? Is it a book? A charm?”

  The wizard raised a bushy gray eyebrow. “I do not know whether you are a fool, a puppet, or both. But the fact that your master doesn’t even know what he is looking for should concern you. Perhaps you should reconsider who you side with.”

  With a growl of rage, the zentan threw the ladle to the floor, sending the water splashing out of reach. “You fool!” he screeched. “You will tell me everything. And when you have nothing more to tell, you will pray that you did. But you will never leave this cell. Never!”

  The zentan waved his hand, and this time High Lord Dinslith was sure he saw something shimmer in the air. Instantly the wizard fell to the ground, his body writhing in pain. A wet, smacking sound echoed through the small chamber.

  “Come, my lord,” the zentan said, closing the door, and pulling Dinslith back toward the stairs. “This is not something you need to witness.”

  The high lord nodded. For a moment he’d felt as if his stomach was turning inside out—as though some unseen beast was trying to lap up his very essence. But as they moved away from the room, the feeling dissipated.

  “We have other matters to attend to,” the zentan said. “At this very moment, a group of villagers are plotting your overthrow.”

  “Yes?” High Lord Dinslith nodded. If Therapass was a traitor, perhaps he didn’t know his people as well as he thought. Perhaps he had been too lenient with them.

  Caught up in their conversation, neither of the men noticed the way the wizard’s eyes followed them as they walked down the hallway—the way he relaxed a little once they weren’t looking, his pain not quite as intense as it had appeared a moment before. Or the way his hand went to the puddle, his fingers pressing against the damp floor and turning to let a few precious drops of water fall onto the petals of a tiny purple flower growing in the back corner of his cell.

  Part 3

  Return

  Chapter 36

  Dual Purpose

  It has to be a lie,” Marcus said as Kyja helped him up the stairs, pausing every few steps to let him catch his breath. “They can’t all . . . be . . . gone.”

  Kyja was too devastated for words. She’d worked too hard, given too much, to have it be for nothing. Mr. Z had known what they were after. How could he have let them continue? Then again, he had tried to stop her. He’d given her the chance to have almost everything she wanted—her magic, Marcus’s health, money—and she’d turned it all down for what now seemed to be no reason.

  “Give me . . . just . . . a minute.” Marcus said, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. Sweat soaked his hair and dripped down his face. His arms and legs shook constantly. He looked like he’d lost twenty pounds over the last forty-eight hours. How long had it been since either of them ate? She realized she had no idea how much time had passed since they started the quest for the Augur Well. It felt like a week at least, but it couldn’t have been more than a day.

  “Any ideas?” Marcus asked.

  Kyja shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak, afraid she’d burst into tears if she did. She wanted to tell him what she’d done in the last test, how she’d thrown everything away, but she couldn’t bear to.

  Marcus pushed himself upright. “I say we go back to the tree and just start throwing those gold books everywhere. If we make a big enough mess, we’ve got to get someone’s attention.”

  Something between a giggle and a cry forced its way out of her mouth. The idea of yanking every book from the stupid land elementals’ tree and throwing them all into a big pile on the floor was so appealing she thought she must be going a little loopy. She giggled again then, without any warning, burst into tears.

  “Hey, stop that,” Marcus said. She felt his too-hot arm go around her shoulder and buried her face in his chest. “It’s okay, we’ll figure something out.”

  “It’s not okay,” Kyja sobbed. “I ru-ruined everything.” Her face still buried in his chest, unable to face him, she told about the offer Mr. Z had made if she’d quit the test. When she got to the part where she’d turned it all down, she could barely get the words out through her sobs. “I . . . t-told h-him . . . I’d t-take my . . . ch-ch-chance-sss,” she bawled.

  For a moment Marcus was totally silent. Then he burst into tears too, his body shaking as badly as hers. Exc
ept he wasn’t crying. He was laughing—laughing so hard that he bent over, clutching his stomach. Tears streamed from his eyes, but they were tears of mirth, not sadness.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

  “That is so awesome,” he said through a huge grin. It was the happiest she’d seen him in days. “That’s exactly what I would have said if I was there. I mean, I was there. But, you know, if I‘d been awake.”

  “You would have?” she sniffed.

  “Heck, yeah. The little puke thought we’d give up for a one-way ticket and a measly rock? I hope you told him where he could stick his rock.”

  “But it turned out to be for nothing.”

  “No, it didn’t,” he said, wiping her tears away with his fingers. “It got us to the Augur Well.”

  “Which told us we’ll never find a land elemental.”

  “So now we know. I’d rather find out early then search for the rest of the elementals, only to discover we could never complete the set.”

  Kyja hadn’t considered that. “What about the drift?”

  “We’ll just have to find another way to make it.” Marcus set his jaw. “You showed that we aren’t quitters. I’m really . . . proud of you.” He leaned quickly forward and Kyja felt his lips brush her cheek.

  Was that a kiss? His face was burning up, but she felt shivers all the way to her toes.

  “Let’s, uh, get back to Land Keep,” he said.

  “Right,” she agreed wondering if the red in his cheeks was all fever—and if she might be running a fever herself. Her face felt as hot as his.

  They stepped through the door, and neither was surprised to find they were back in Land Keep outside the door with the ear and the mouth scratched into it.

  What looked like a bullet of blue soared out of the air and landed on Kyja’s shoulder. “Where have you been?” Riph Raph cried. “I was scared to death. I thought . . . hey, why are you crying? And why is your face all red?” He looked Marcus up and down. “What ran over you? I’ve seen fish that looked better than that—after I ate them.”