Land Keep

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Land Keep Page 21

by J. Scott Savage


  “A gretak will clear the exit,” Lanctrus-Darnoc said.

  Kyja heard a scraping sound and turned to see what looked like a ten–foot-tall worm or caterpillar crawling across the stone floor. It headed straight for the collapsed tunnel and began chewing its way through the rock.

  “You’re back,” a boy’s voice said to Kyja.

  She turned to see Jaklah and another man staring at her, Marcus, and the land elementals.

  “We are,” Kyja said. “And now you’re all getting out of here. This place is going back to being the library it was made to be instead of a prison.”

  “Is that a . . .”

  “They’re land elementals,” Kyja said. “Jaklah, this is Lanctrus-Darnoc.”

  “G-good to meet you,” the boy said, clearly trying to master his fear.

  “Could you help me carry Marcus?” she asked.

  “Of course.” Together, Jaklah and the man he was with lifted Marcus’s unconscious body, which could not have weighed much at all.

  “He’s sick,” the man said, touching Marcus’s forehead. “Would you like me to see if I can help him?”

  “No,” Kyja said. “Once he gets out of here, I can take him to a place where he’ll get better.”

  The three of them started up the tunnel the gretak had carved out. A few people peered into the opening, and several followed cautiously as the land elementals continued their work repairing the cavern.

  After a long but gentle climb, Kyja stepped from the tunnel, blinking at the bright light. It felt good to have the warmth of real sun on her shoulders. She looked around and thought they were somewhere on the edge of the swamp. Thick groves of moss-covered trees and bushes grew in puddles of stagnant water, but the smell of decaying plants was overpowered by the sharp, salty aroma of the sea.

  Behind her, Jaklah and the man carried Marcus out and stood in the sun, blinking. Many more streamed out behind them. Several of the oldest looked around fearfully, as though the idea of so much open space was too much to handle after all their years of captivity. Kyja looked for the gretak, but the giant worm had either burrowed back underground or disappeared into the trees.

  “What about the Keepers?” Jaklah asked, lowering Marcus’s unconscious body to a dry patch of grass.

  “They don’t know you’re free,” Kyja said. “By the time they find out, you should be far away.”

  “You are mistaken,” said a silky voice.

  Kyja spun around to see a man in a silver robe, sitting astride a white horse. She instantly recognized him as the Keeper who’d attacked her.

  With a sneer, he eyed the group standing just outside the cave entrance. Eight men in crimson rode out of the trees to join their leader. “An unexpected pleasure. I was told I might find the boy and girl here. But to find so many of you just waiting to be scaled is a treat indeed.”

  “Go down!” called the people at the front of the crowd, trying to push their way back into the tunnel.

  “Leave them alone,” Kyja cried.

  The Keeper smiled as he reached for the silver coil at his side. “Call out the snifflers,” he said to his men, then nodded at Kyja. “I’ll deal with this one myself.”

  “Just try it,” Riph Raph snarled from his spot on her shoulder.

  The man on the leader’s right raised a black, crescent-shaped horn to his mouth. Before he could blow it, an arrow flew from the trees, knocking it from his hand. Another arrow pierced his chest, and he fell from his horse. Before Kyja even knew what was happening, two more men dropped to the ground. Each had an arrow shaft sticking out of his body.

  “Shield yourselves!” the Keeper shouted. Instantly, glowing blue clouds surrounded them.

  A man stepped out of the trees—the arrow in his bow aimed at the leader’s chest. A quiver filled with many more arrows was strapped to his back. Kyja almost didn’t recognize the archer. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been nothing but skin and bones. Now he looked strong and healthy.

  “Rhaidnan!” Kyja shouted, with unexpected joy. “What . . . ? How . . . ?” The last time she’d seen him was before she and Marcus entered Water Keep, after they escaped from the unmakers’ cavern. He’d flown home to his wife and children on the back of Zhethar, the frost pinnois.

  “You rescued me from the unmakers.” He smiled without taking his eyes off the Keepers. “You didn’t think I’d rest until I returned the favor, did you?”

  “You have made a grave mistake,” the Keeper in the silver robe said, eyes tight with fury. “The penalty for attacking a Keeper is a very slow and painful death.”

  “I’ve been threatened with worse,” Rhaidnan said. From the trees and grass around him, another ten men appeared, each with drawn bows. Kyja recognized most of them—they were from Terra ne Staric. One was Breslek Broomhead, her next-door neighbor from when she’d lived with the Goodnuffs. Flickers of red light danced around the tips of the men’s arrows. Caught between the archers and the Keepers, the prisoners from tunnels pressed against one another like a flock of frightened sheep.

  The leader laughed. “You think your arrows are a match against us?” His remaining five horsemen rode up to his side.

  “They won’t be alone,” said a voice from behind them. Screech shambled out of the woods holding a wand that looked as if it had been clumsily mended.

  The Keeper’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here? You should be with the unmakers.”

  “That is done,” Screech said.

  Kyja looked from the cave trulloch to the man in the silver robe. How did they know each other?

  “No matter,” said the Keeper. “All of your magic combined is not enough to stop us. You will be just one more dead body left to rot.”

  “Is your magic stronger than ours?” a voice asked, one Kyja recognized at once. Figures of water took shape one by one, rising out of the murky water on one side of the woods, and at their head stood a man with spiky white hair and wearing a blue robe.

  “Cascade!” Kyja grinned.

  “Or ours?” At the mouth of the tunnel, people moved aside for a large figure emerging. It rose into the air, wings slowly beating. The boar head grunted, baring wicked tusks. The fox head seemed to grin.

  “And don’t forget about me,” Riph Raph said. “I am flying death.”

  “What is this?” the leader growled, looking around at the gathering group. His horse pawed anxiously at the ground.

  “Let me introduce you to my friends,” Kyja said with a smile. She pointed to Rhaidnan and his fellow archers. “These are some of the best hunters from Terra ne Staric, the greatest city in all of Westland. And this is Screech, a cave trulloch who managed to escape a mountain full of unmakers and follow me all the way here. Cascade is a water elemental. And Lanctrus-Darnoc are land elementals. I think they want to talk to you about what you’ve been doing with their home.”

  “And me,” Riph Raph piped up.

  “Elementals?” the Keeper said, his eyes going from Cascade to Lanctrus-Darnoc. “That’s impossible.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Kyja said. “But it’s more difficult than you might think.” She glared at the leader and his followers. “You and your creatures are disgusting. Nothing gives you the right to take away people’s magic. Nothing!”

  “Considering the circumstances,” said the fox part of Lanctrus-Darnoc, “it might be wise for you to notify all Keepers of the Balance that their services are no longer required in these parts.”

  “Doing so might keep you alive,” agreed the boar.

  “I’ll count to ten,” said Rhaidnan. He raised his bow.

  “One,” Riph Raph called, snapping his tail. “Two.”

  Before he reached three, the Keepers were gone.

  Chapter 39

  Going Back

  Once things had quieted down, Kyja asked Rhaidnan, “What are you doing here?” She sat on the grass, cradling Marcus’s head in her lap. She had to get back to Earth soon, but first she needed to understand what was happening in
Terra ne Staric.

  The hunter squatted nearby. A few of the people from Land Keep had returned to the safety of the cavern, but most had followed a nearby road leading to Aster’s Bay and points beyond. The rest of Rhaidnan’s archers were scouting to make sure the Keepers were really gone.

  “I’m afraid I have bad news,” the hunter said. He looked carefully around as though afraid someone might overhear. “Terra ne Staric has been taken over by the Keepers.”

  “No!” Kyja thought she’d seen the last of the Keepers of the Balance. “How is that possible? Why didn’t the guards stop them? Why don’t High Lord Dinslith and the Masters do something?”

  Rhaidnan ran a palm across his stubbly chin. “I’m afraid most of them have joined the Keepers. Zentan Dolan, head of the Keepers, arrived right about the time you left. Somehow he managed to convince High Lord Dinslith that most of the city was plotting to overthrow him. The other Master Wizards are either siding with Dinslith or rotting in prison. A few of us think Dolan is working directly with the Dark Circle.”

  “We have to do something,” Kyja said.

  “I’m not sure anything can be done . . .” He plucked a piece of grass from the ground and began to shred it.

  “There’s something else?” Kyja asked, sensing the hunter was delaying.

  At last he nodded. “Master Therapass has been captured, locked in a separate cell of the tower prison. They say he took something from the tower right after you left—something the zentan wants. I spoke to a guard who believes the zentan is torturing Therapass with . . . with a pair of unmakers.”

  Kyja stared at Rhaidnan. Master Therapass in prison? Part of her was relieved he was alive at all, but another part of her remembered how Rhaidnan had looked after only a month of being used by unmakers. And Rhaidnan had been a healthy man in the prime of life at the time of his capture. Master Therapass was old. He couldn’t take that kind of treatment for long.

  “We have to go to him,” she said. “Just let me get Marcus back to Earth until he recovers, then we’ll ride back with you.”

  “No,” the hunter said. “You can’t go. That’s the reason I’m here. The wizard was afraid you and Marcus would hear what had happened and try to rescue him. You can’t do that; it’s too dangerous. But he gave me a message for you. Therapass wants the two of you to stay as far away from Terra ne Staric as possible. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

  “He might be right,” Riph Raph said.

  “But what about him?” Kyja demanded.

  Rhaidnan bowed his head. “All of the men who came looking for you have put their lives and the lives of their families in danger. We’ll return to Terra ne Staric as quickly as we can. Hopefully no one will notice we’ve been gone. There are still some people loyal to Therapass—perhaps forty or fifty. We’ll wait and watch. If a chance presents itself to fight Dolan, we’ll take it. If not . . .” He shrugged. “We may have to take our families and go to the Border Lands.”

  Terra ne Staric abandoned? Master Therapass left to the Dark Circle and the unmakers? She couldn’t allow that. Marcus wouldn’t either. “How long will it take you to reach the city?”

  Rhaidnan rubbed his lip. “We should be able to make it in three days—four at the most.”

  “Marcus and I will meet you outside the city at sunrise in four days,” Kyja said. “Gather everyone who opposes the Keepers.”

  “Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?” Rhaidnan shouted, driving an arrow from his quiver into the ground with his fist. “The last thing you must do is return to the city. If the Keepers discover you’re there, they’ll stop at nothing until you are captured or dead.”

  “Dead is bad,” Riph Raph said waggling his ears. “And captured isn’t much better.”

  “They’re not counting on us having the help of Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc,” Kyja said. “Maybe we can’t free the city, but there’s got to be a way to free Master Therapass.”

  “You think the elementals will help you?” Rhaidnan asked, nodding slowly.

  “We can ask,” Kyja said.

  “Then there might be a way.” Moving to a patch of dirt, the hunter drew a map with his arrow. “Trying to breach the tower itself is suicide. But an underground river runs directly under the west gates and passes within a few feet of the dungeon. If your friends could get us that far, we might be able to reach him.”

  “We’ll find a way to get there,” Kyja said.

  The hunter put a hand on her shoulder. “Therapass was smart to send us to you.”

  “I owe him everything I have,” Kyja said.

  Rhaidnan stood. “We’ll leave tonight. Meet us in four days where the Goodnuff house used to be. No one goes near the ruins.”

  It was a fitting place to return—a reminder of what the Dark Circle had done to her, and what they would continue to do if they weren’t stopped. Letting Marcus rest for a moment, she called over Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc. The elementals gave each other a wide berth, eyeing one another with obvious suspicion.

  Kyja explained about Master Therapass and what she wanted to do. “Will you help us?”

  Lanctrus-Darnoc nodded both its heads, eyeing Cascade. “We are not warriors, but we may be able to help you reach the river. We make no promise what the water elemental will do.”

  “If the land elementals manage to reach the river without damming its flow with rocks and dirt,” Cascade said, “I can help you reach the dungeon. But you will owe me a favor.”

  “Anything,” Kyja said. “Can you meet us in four days outside Terra ne Staric?”

  Both water and land elementals agreed they could, although they were clearly uncomfortable about working with each other. She explained where the Goodnuff farm had stood outside the western gates, and that they would meet at sunrise.

  Marcus awoke to a cool hand on his burning face. “Wake up.”

  “Principal Teagarden?” he groaned. It felt like Chet and the rest of his gang had finally managed to push him down the stairs. Every bone and muscle ached, and his ears wouldn’t stop ringing.

  “No,” said a girl’s voice. “It’s me.”

  He opened his eyes, and for a moment had no idea where he was. This wasn’t the Philo T. Justice Boys School, and it certainly wasn’t Arizona. Then he remembered. “Kyja?”

  “Yes,” she said, sounding relieved. “I’m pushing you back to Earth now. But I need you to be awake so you can pull Riph Raph and me with you. Do you understand?”

  He tried to make sense of what she was saying, but it was so hard to concentrate. “Pull?”

  “Yes.” Kyja propped open his eyes with her fingers. His brain seemed to burst into flames.

  “Ouch. That hurts.”

  “I’m sorry. But I need you awake. Can you hear me?” She poured a small trickle of water down his throat. It felt blessedly cool.

  “I can hear you,” he said. “We’re going to jump. But do it quick. Don’t know . . . how long . . . awake.”

  “Okay,” Kyja said. “We’re going now. One, two, three.”

  Something jerked at his stomach, and he knew he was going to be sick. He was falling. He wanted to close his eyes and fall forever, but he needed to remember something. What was it? Pull. He needed to pull. He didn’t know what, but he reached out his arms and pulled anyway. Something caught, slipped for a moment, and finally caught again.

  Then he was lying on the ground vomiting.

  “I’ll be back,” a voice said from far away. “Just rest. You’re going to be okay.”

  “A turtle,” cried another voice. “How can I be a turtle?”

  “Rest,” Marcus murmured to himself. Rest sounded very, very good.

  Sometime later, a burbling roar woke him. He jerked as a hand closed around his arm, sure that he was being attacked by a terrible beast.

  “It’s okay,” Kyja’s voice said. “Stop struggling. It’s just me.”

  He opened his eyes. “Where are we?”

  “On Earth,” Kyja said. “
I bought another bike from a guy who lives on a farm just down the road.”

  “Can’t ride a bike,” he muttered. He could barely keep his eyes open.

  “You can ride this one.” Kyja laughed, pulling him to his feet and practically carrying him out of the grove of trees where he’d been sleeping, to the edge of a narrow, country road. When he saw what she was pulling him toward, he tried to jerk away again.

  “No. You can’t ride that.”

  “Sure, I can,” Kyja said. “The man who sold it showed me how.” She led him around the side of an ancient-looking motorcycle and pushed him into the attached sidecar.

  “You need . . . a license,” he moaned, as she tucked a helmet over his head and strapped him in.

  “Then just pretend it’s a dream.”

  He tried to argue. But before he could, he was asleep again.

  Chapter 40

  The Dream

  For Marcus, the next three days were a blur of movement, sleep, and occasionally waking up to eat or use a restroom.

  For Kyja it was a time of wonderment and adventure—a time to discover her home world. No two meals were the same. She tried Chinese food (sweet and sour pork and wontons were her favorite), Mexican (where she scalded her mouth on a habanero pepper, drank a pitcher of water, then tried it again just to see if it was just as hot the second time around), barbeque (where she ate so many ribs she felt sick the rest of the day), and house specials ranging from jambalaya to meatloaf and gravy.

  It took her a few hours—and a hundred-mile detour in Arkansas—to figure out how to read a map. But once she worked it out, she realized she would need to travel across Texas and New Mexico to get to Arizona. That’s where Marcus was from, and she suspected it might be in the general area of Terra ne Staric for when they’d need to jump back to Farworld.

  She stuck mostly to frontage roads and smaller highways after a biker group, who called themselves Steel de Muerte, explained her bike and hack were not built for freeway driving. The bikers were fascinated by her story of Farworld, and although she didn’t think they believed she really came from another world, they made her an honorary club member and gave her a leather jacket. She promised to bring them all back robes if she was ever in the area again.

 

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