Sarah turned to Cara and Barius behind us. “Give us a moment, please.” They nodded and backed off, following from a respectful distance.
“So do you want to tell me why you didn’t come?” Sarah began.
“Because I didn’t feel like it,” I said. “I don’t have to do whatever Greystone tells me.”
“But you’ve missed out on hours of training with the rest of us. And education, too. We were learning about the layout of Athorn, and discussing where we were going to strike out first.”
“Boring,” I snickered.
Sarah sighed and let our words fall to nothing for the space of a minute. Then she tried again. “I don’t exactly like our new lives any better than you do,” she started.
“Well then, you shouldn’t be bothered when I decide to take some time off.”
“ — but, like it or not, we’re a team,” she continued. “And like it or not, there are certain things we have to do while we’re here. Keeping the kingdom safe is one thing. Not just because of some higher duty, although there is that. But if Athorn falls, we’ll be killed in our sleep. Do you understand? We’d drop dead back on Earth, never even knowing what just happened to us. And our families — ”
“Stop,” I said, my blood rising. Sarah, more than anyone else, should have known better. “Don’t try to use my family as leverage against me.”
“I’m not against you, Est — Raven,” she said, swiftly correcting herself. “I’m just pointing out the facts.”
“Well, the facts are that I didn’t want any of this,” I said. “None of us did. But despite that, I’m here. I’m going to help in the fight. I just don’t want people getting on my case every time I decide to take a few hours off, okay?”
Sarah stopped walking. I stopped, too. She looked hard into my eyes, searching me out. I stared back, trying not to care. Finally she gave a small nod.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll give you that. But I’d ask — ask, okay? — that in the future you let me know. It shook the others up when you didn’t show.”
I rolled my eyes, but inside I was surprised. I wasn’t dumb enough to think they wouldn’t notice, but I was surprised that they cared. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Thank you, Raven,” she said. “Now I’m going to head back. We should be going in about a half an hour. Are you going to go riding?”
I nodded, giving a surprised smile despite my efforts to hide it. She remembered how much I loved horses, and she knew me well enough to guess. It shouldn’t have been a shock, but it was.
“Ride along the barrier,” she said. “Greystone took us out there today. He taught us a lot about the barrier and how it works. Maybe Barius can teach you. It’s good stuff to know.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do that.”
“Take care.” And then Sarah did something she hadn’t done in two and a half years: she reached forward and pulled me into a hug. I didn’t return it; I was too surprised. After a brief moment, she turned and walked back toward the Runehold entrance without looking back.
Cara left with her while Barius came forward to meet me. “I suppose I cannot convince you to attend training, as I was instructed to do?” he asked.
“No, you really can’t,” I said.
“Well then, what is your command, my Lady?”
“I feel like a ride,” I told him. “Let’s hit the stables.”
The Runehold had a ton of horse stalls. A small section of them were for messengers, who constantly ran back and forth between the Runehold and the royal palace. But more were for the Runegard’s mounted troops. They had close to five hundred cavalry stationed there at all times in addition to their infantry. The upkeep must have been massive. I didn’t envy the stable boys who had to clean up the place. One thing I knew about horses: they’re walking poop factories.
A few brief words between Barius and the stable master secured us two chargers. They were big, hulking brutes of horses, completely unlike the smaller mares I was used to riding. But they were military horses, and they responded really well to directions. And the thing about all horses is that they’re calmer and more confident the more confident you are. There’s few bad horses; there’s a lot of bad riders.
Barius led his mount toward the street that led to the city’s front gates, but I called him to a halt.
“There’s one thing I wanted to take care of first,” I said, flexing my hands.
I had Barius take me to the closest marketplace in the city. Most of the shops were shutting down for the night, their owners working by lamplight. But a few of them were still hawking their wares. Most stopped to look at us curiously as we passed. I’d gotten used to that in the last few days. The people were all excited that the Realm Keepers were here to save them all. Too bad we still barely knew what we were doing.
“What are we looking for?” Barius asked curiously.
“Someone who makes leather stuff,” I said.
“A tanner?”
“No, being pale is a choice.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Sure, a tanner.”
“This way.”
Barius led me unerringly to a stall where a thin, reedy man was just packing up his stand, which was affixed to the outside of his building. The place had a terrible smell to it that almost made me gag. I held it in as we pulled to a stop.
“Persil!” said Barius gruffly.
“Barius!” said the man, his voice just as thin and reedy as the rest of him. He stepped forward with a delighted grin. “What brings you? I hope that stirrup isn’t giving you trouble.” Just then, the man looked to Barius’ left and saw me riding just behind. He gawked, then swiftly swept his tiny leather cap from atop his head.
“My Lady!” he gasped. “It is an honor!” He bowed low, almost doubling over.
“Please, don’t,” I said awkwardly. I leapt nimbly from my saddle and swept the reins around one of the corner posts of his stand. “I was just wondering if you had any leather gloves.”
“But of course, my Lady!” he exclaimed. “Of course! Do you have a preference of color?”
Before I could even speak, Barius answered him. “Black,” he said dourly. I smirked.
“I have a wide selection,” said Persil. “Please, over on this side.” He ushered me over and showed me. Over a dozen pairs lay there, each pair tied together with a single leather string. “Any pair you wish. Take your time.”
I didn’t need to. I saw the ones I wanted right away. “These ones,” I said. They looked to be the right size. I tried them on just to be sure, and they fit over my hands like a second skin. But there was one thing about them that wasn’t quite perfect. “And can you cut the fingers off?”
Persil started, then stared over my head at Barius. Barius shrugged.
“The…fingers, my lady?”
“Yeah, right here,” I explained, pointing to where the second knuckle would be. “It’s just a point of fashion. Looks, you know.”
Persil looked like he definitely didn’t know, but he recovered quickly. “Of course, my Lady!” he said, snatching them and going to his small workbench in the back. “It won’t be but a moment!” He pulled out a knife from his belt, then attacked the leather with it. With a few quick snips, the fingers fell to the workbench. He whipped out an awl and some thread, then reworked the stitching on the sides of the gloves’ fingers, sealing it at the newly-shortened ends. The whole process took only a few minutes, just enough time for the sun to finish sinking beyond the horizon in the West.
“Here we are, my Lady!” he said eagerly, thrusting them back at me so quickly that I almost dropped them. “Please, try them on.”
I pulled the leather over my fingers. They were perfect, each ending just before the joint of the second knuckle so that they wouldn’t get caught in the bending digits. I flexed them, then drew my whip from my belt. It felt effortless to swing it in my hand, the soft, supple material sliding across my aching blisters from the day before.
“Perf
ect,” I said in appreciation. “You’re a master.”
Persil broke into hysterical giggles. “Oh, my Lady, no,” he said. “You are far too kind to a untalented old man.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Barius snorted. “Persil’s taken by modesty, though he doesn’t deserve a drop of it. He’s the best tanner in Morrowdust, maybe in all of Athorn.”
Suddenly I panicked, feeling like an idiot. “Oh my gosh,” I stammered. “I feel so stupid, but…can you hold these for me? I guess I’m going to have to go to Runehold and grab some money. From somewhere.” I looked at Barius, curious. “Do I even have any money?”
“My Lady!” cried Persil, sounding horrified. “I cannot accept payment from you!”
“No, of course I’m going to pay,” I said, embarrassed. “Barius, can I…like…borrow some money or something? Am I ever going to be able to pay you back?”
Barius chuckled, a deep, booming noise that echoed from his chest. “Lady Raven, Persil is not being kind. He cannot, by law, accept payment from you. The resources of the kingdom are at the Realm Keepers’ disposal, in exchange for the protection you offer. It is the law of the crown.”
I looked between the two men uneasily. “Um…wow. Somehow that seems unfair.”
“Not when you consider that you and your friends have already saved the city from a hellion,” Barius pointed out.
“Please, my Lady,” pleaded Persil. “I could not bear the thought of your leaving without the gloves. I can see they are what you want. Take them. It is my great, great honor.”
I rolled my eyes. His words were making it worse, not better. “Um, sure,” I said, suddenly eager to leave. “Thank you.”
I rode away with Barius, Persil waving good-bye eagerly until we rode out of sight.
“It kind of seems like we’re on a pedestal around here,” I said uncomfortably.
“You should be,” Barius said. “Your lives keep Athorn safe. The barrier would not exist without you. And in time, you will continue to defend the city as you did when the hellion burst through the barrier gate. The people of Morrowdust do not owe you their lives yet — but they will.”
“I guess I’d feel better about getting freebies after that happens,” I retorted. “I don’t like taking things without giving back.”
“Good!” Barius said with a guffaw of laughter. “That is how it should be. The people of Athorn believe in you, my Lady. You, and the other Realm Keepers. But you should not let that make you haughty. Instead, it should fill you with a sense of obligation. An obligation to live up to the trust they place in you.”
Great. More trust. More responsibility. Just what I wanted.
We reached the city’s front gates. Barius identified himself to the guard, who swung the wide gate open slowly. “Race you to the barrier,” I called out suddenly, and then I put heels to flank as my horse leapt forward.
For a good, long time it was amazing just to ride again. I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I’d been on a horse. It had been years, and the sense of time was lengthened by the fact that everything in my life before I became a Realm Keeper seemed an impossibly long time ago. I fell into a rhythm to match the heaving, swaying body beneath me, enjoying every swell and contraction of the horse’s ribs as it breathed hard, its hooves devouring the grass. I cried out with the sudden joy of wind in my eyes, my neck-length hair whipping at my face like needles. Despite my challenge, I wasn’t pushing the horse too hard, and Barius kept pace easily.
We reached the barrier gate, but rather than pull to a stop I simply swung right and began to ride along its length. The last haze of reflected sunlight was dying in the sky above us, and just as it faded away completely I pulled the horse to a trot, not wanting to risk it stumbling and falling in the darkness. A full moon was already up, giving us a nice blue light to ride by.
“You are a skilled rider,” Barius commented. “Not like the other one. The tiny one.”
“Calvin?” I said with a snort. “He’d probably never seen a horse in real life before he came here.”
“But you have?”
“I used to ride a lot,” I said. “I even considered doing it professionally when I was growing up.”
Barius cocked his head. “Professionally?”
“Yeah. Horseback riding is a leisure activity back on True Earth,” I explained. “We don’t normally do it, because we have other means of getting around.”
“Ah,” Barius nodded sagely. “I have heard of this. It is called the automobile, correct?” The way he said it sounded like “oh-toe-mow-bile.”
“Sure, but we mostly just call them cars. Anyway, some people ride horses as part of sporting events. It’s kind of fringe. Not a lot of people are into it. But some people are so good at it, they earn money at competitions, and that’s how they make a living.”
Barius stared. “But…what do they do?”
I looked at him like he was deaf. “That. That’s what they do.”
“No, but what do they do for their kingdom?”
“Um…entertain, I guess?” I said. “It’s like any other sport.”
Barius shook his head. I got the feeling he wanted to go further down the line of questioning, but he let it go. “I must always remind myself how different things are in your world,” he confessed. “It was the same with the last Realm Keepers. True Earth sounds like a strange place.”
“It is,” I said.
Those were the last words we said for a while. We let the horses choose their own path, and then began wandering away from the barrier while still staying parallel with it. Eventually we crested a rise that overlooked the landscape for miles in every direction. Morrowdust was just a cluster of twinkling fires on the edge of the horizon.
But looking further ahead, on the other side of the barrier, I saw another such cluster of lights.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing. I pulled my horse to a stop.
Barius looked in the direction of my gesture and reined in beside me. “Ah,” he said uneasily. “That is Elladorn.”
Something in his tone set me on edge. “What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “It would require much explanation.”
“Well, I’m here to learn,” I said. “I’m supposed to catch up with the lessons everyone got from Greystone today. So tell me. What gives?”
“Elladorn is part of the kingdom of Athorn,” explained Barius. “As such, it should be within the barrier.”
I did a double take. It clearly wasn’t. “So why isn’t it?”
“The barrier is fluid, a changing thing,” explained Barius. “Several rules govern its existence, including its shape. For example, it is formed from the same magic that selects you Realm Keepers from True Earth. That magic governs much of your lives in this world. It is why you can understand our tongue and we yours, though our common languages have drifted apart over the course of the thousands of years since Midrealm was created.”
I nodded. Greystone had already explained that much to us. “Sure. But what does that have to do with the barrier?”
“Your magic is a curse to Chaos,” said Barius. “And so is the barrier. Your magic can part the barrier. You could split it apart with a lightning bolt, at least long enough to pass through it if you wished. But even if it remained standing, it would not harm you if you reached it. You would simply feel it as a wall, one that was harmless but through which you could not pass.”
“I still don’t get it,” I said. “What does that have to do with Elladorn?”
“I’m getting to that,” said Barius gruffly. “The barrier doesn’t simply destroy Chaos, it reacts to it. Thus, if for some reason Chaos were to appear inside the barrier on a magnitude that would endanger the kingdom within, the barrier will contract. And when the previous Realm Keepers were killed, the barrier was disabled completely. After the Battle of the Circle, you rebuilt it — but Elladorn was outside the barrier when it came back.”
“
So Chaos entered the town?” I asked, trying to understand.
Barius nodded, his thick gray hair swinging back and forth in the moonlight. “But we cannot discover its source. We have sent soldiers and messengers through the barrier gate to contact the town since your arrival. They can find no trace of Shadows, nor of any greater creatures of Chaos. The landscape all around the town is infested with dark creatures. Some believe it is those creatures that still hold the barrier constricted.”
“Huh,” I mused. “So, are we going to rescue them?”
“As I understand it,” Barius said wryly, “the hope is that we will rescue everybody.”
I didn’t answer him, because suddenly movement below us caught my eye. At the bottom of the rise where we sat on our horses, a small figure was walking through the rocky plain in the direction of the town.
“What’s that?” I said, pointing.
Barius peered into the darkness, squinting till I thought his eyes were closed. “I can’t see it,” he said.
“Come on,” I said. I spurred my horse to walk down the slope to where the ground met the barrier.
“Lady Raven!” he said urgently. “Be careful.”
I looked over my shoulder at him, rolling my eyes. “Barius, we’re not in danger. If it’s Chaos, they can’t get through the barrier, remember?”
He pursed his lips. “True.”
It took us less than a minute to reach the barrier, picking our way down the slope and making sure the horses didn’t misstep. The figure was closer now. It was a child. I couldn’t see if it was a boy or a girl from this distance; it was walking away from us.
“A little late to be out on the plains by yourself,” I called out, hoping to catch the child’s attention.
“The barrier blocks your voice, my Lady,” said Barius. “Sound cannot pierce it.”
“Oh, right,” I said.
Then a movement caught my eye.
From the shadows of the surrounding plains, black shapes slipped out to stalk toward the child. They were semi-formless, reminding me of Shadows, but they walked on all fours like dogs. They crept closer and closer, unmistakably stalking the small figure that was stumbling obliviously toward the lights of the distant town.
Midrealm Page 18