Midrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  “Your name’s Lucius, am I right, son?”

  He started and blushed. “Yes, sir. How did you know?”

  “I pay attention occasionally. You should do the same now. That armor belongs to no human, Lucius. That is the armor of the Shadows.”

  He did a double take to look at it again. “I’ve never seen them wearing armor,” he said quietly.

  “Normally they don’t,” I said. “And that’s troubling. It means that some of the devils have settled somewhere, built a smithy. Or they’re getting the armor from colluders, which is worse.”

  Lucius swallowed. “Who would aid the enemy?”

  “Someone more in love with gold than honor,” I muttered. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Captain!”

  Another runner emerged from the trees to stop short and saluted. I tossed the salute off quickly. “What is it, son?”

  “Lieutenant Jak sent me to report,” he said quickly. “The Shadows, sir. They’ve disappeared.”

  “Speak plainly,” I said shortly. “Shadows don’t just vanish.”

  The runner blushed. “No, I suppose not, sir. But they were coming after us, and now they’re gone. The runners Jak sent out went as far as they dared, but they can’t find the Shadows anywhere.”

  I frowned. More and more was strange today, and I didn’t like it. “Tell Jak to send more men out after them. Send them out along every point on the compass. Find where that force went. I’m not keen on going back to Athorn until I can tell the King where to find them and wipe them out.”

  The runner left. I sent Lucius with him to fetch more men from the company. They appeared through the trees moments later, scrambling to recover the goods and valuables the caravan had been transporting.

  The caravan’s great chest of gold had been taken, of course. That was Nestor’s tribute from a faraway King whose name I’d never learned and couldn’t care less about. But the caravan’s other supplies were surprisingly intact: great rolls of silk, carpets and rugs made in foreign lands, a stock of strange swords the likes of which I’d never seen before. Most valuable of all, though easy to overlook, was a lockbox of spices meant to grace the banquets and feasts in the royal palace. I knew the rich and their tastes, and that box was worth its weight in gold.

  The men were collecting the last of the supplies and loading them on their horses when I caught a glint of yellow light from underneath a corpse.

  I hopped from my saddle, curious, and went to the body. It was a soldier, though whether he was from the first caravan or the patrol sent out to find them, I couldn’t tell. His hand was clutching something under his chest.

  Gently I stooped and grasped one of his arms to roll him over. His arm lolled uselessly out to the side, still clutching the shining object.

  It was an amulet, one like I’d never seen before. It was half a fist in size, but lighter than air. As I pried it from his fingers, I saw why: it was solid amber.

  I gasped in awe. The price of amber made spices seem like dross. A chunk this size could buy a castle. It had been flawlessly carved, its facets catching the light and flinging it back into the eyes, illuminating the surroundings with a warm orange glow.

  “Captain,” said Jak’s voice behind me. Then he stopped short as he peered over my shoulder to see the amulet. I heard his breathing go still.

  I stood and turned to him, still holding the amulet in my hand. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. A man could live the rest of his life on such wealth as this. And what’s more, it seemed to have some sort of enchantment about it. Or so it seemed from the symbols that were carved all around the amber’s silver setting. I’d had enough dealings with those who lived in the Runehold to recognize arcane symbols when I saw them.

  I tore my eyes away to see Jak eyeing the amber with the same expression of amazement I’m sure was plastered across my own face. He licked his lips as I closed my fingers around it, then looked around nervously. “Perhaps it would be best to stow that in your saddlebag, sir,” he said in a low voice. “Before too many eyes catch sight of it.”

  I chuckled. “They’re our men, Jak, not a ragged band of pickpockets.” Still, prudence is always wise. I lifted the flap of my horse’s saddlebags, then the smaller, hidden flap that concealed a secret pocket within. It was so cleverly hidden that not even Jak would be able to see it from three feet away. I fastened both straps and patted the saddlebag easily. “There,” I said. “Safe from prying eyes. It shall go to the Watcher. Those markings were wizardly, or my eyes are starting to go.”

  Jak nodded deferentially. “Of course, Captain.”

  The men set to building a funeral pyre as the sun disappeared from sight beyond the trees. It was another hour before they finished. Just as the stars started to emerge from the darkness, the fire was struck. We stood beyond the clearing’s edge, past which the horses still refused to pass, and watched as the flames climbed higher and higher along the bodies.

  “Still no sign of the Shadows?” I asked.

  “No sir,” said Jak beside me with a shake of his head. “Though we’ve got the long-range scouts out now. They’ll return in the morning and report the Shadows’ location.”

  “If they find them,” I added.

  Jak stiffened. “They’ll find them,” he said brusquely. “The things can’t have disappeared from the face of the earth.”

  I shrugged. “There have been stranger things in the world. I suppose we’ll see.”

  “The scouts will find them,” Jak said confidently.

  Once the pyre had burned low, we made camp just within the edge of the forest. After another sparse meal of soaked bread and water, I fell peacefully asleep inside my tent.

  I was woken in the middle of the night by shouting and the sounds of a scuffle just outside.

  I burst out, naked as the day I was born, to find Jak struggling with one of the soldiers. The man was putting up a good fight, but Jak had his arm twisted around behind his shoulder. With a deft sweep of his foot, he knocked the man’s legs out from under him. The soldier went crashing to the ground with a grunt.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” I snapped. Too late, other soldiers ran up to help subdue their companion on the ground.

  “I caught him going through your saddlebags,” Jak said, with a meaningful look at me that I almost missed in the dim light of the campfires. “He was probably looking for some extra gold marks.”

  “That’s a lie!” cried the man on the ground. “I was just walking by! I didn’t do anything!”

  Jak reached into the man’s pocket and pulled out a coin purse. I recognized my own house sigil on the outside of it. The man in Jak’s grip seemed to crumple in on himself, and he averted his gaze from mine.

  My blood turned to ice, and I felt my face become hard as stone.

  “Get him up while I compose myself,” I snarled. I entered my tent and quickly pulled on some clothes and my boots. When I emerged, the fire of anger had cooled to hard, biting ice.

  I approached the man, still held tight and miserable between two other soldiers. A small cluster of others had gathered, woken by the commotion. The prisoner was staring at his feet.

  “Leave us,” I commanded. “All but the guards and the Lieutenant.”

  Slowly, the other soldiers filed away into the darkness. The soldier began to weep silently.

  “Stop your sniveling,” I said harshly. “Do you have anything to say in your own defense?”

  The man shook his head. “No, sir. I’m sorry. I just thought you might have grabbed a little extra from the caravan, and I thought you might have some to spare. I’m sorry.”

  “Is your family starving at home?” I asked. “Does the crown not pay you? Is some member of your family taken by an illness?”

  The man shook his head, despondent.

  “Then your greed will be your end.”

  We took him out into the woods and hung him, leaving his body as food for the crows. I slept the rest of the night with my saddleba
g under my head, feeling the sizable lump of amber pressing up from beneath.

  The next day we rode hard for home. At midday’s meal break, I summoned Jak to my side.

  “You warned me yesterday,” I told him. “You said I should hide the amulet. I dismissed what you said because I thought I could trust my men. I won’t say I was wrong to think that, but it turned out I was too trusting. And I owe you an apology.”

  Jak shook his head. “None necessary, Captain. You were only doing what you thought was best.”

  I sighed. “Jak, no need to be so stiff. You were right. I’m paying you a compliment. Just thank me and get back to work.” I smiled to take some of the sting out of my words.

  To my surprise, Jak allowed himself to smile ever so slightly. “All right. Thank you, sir.”

  He left to prepare his mount to ride once more. I watched him go, thinking I might have been wrong about my Lieutenant. In time, he might turn out to be officer material after all.

  Another hard week’s journey brought us home. We caught no further sight of any Shadows, which I found both relieving and troubling.

  As we rode through the barrier gate on our way to Morrowdust, I felt a palpable sense of relief wash over me. Stronger than any wall, it had never fallen in anyone’s memory, living or written. Even clad in armor, surrounded by two hundred of my soldiers, something about me felt naked when I passed from within its protection.

  Soon we entered Morrowdust’s front gates. I turned to Jak, tossing my head back toward the men.

  “Bring the company back to the barracks, Lieutenant,” I told him. “I’ll meet you there, and we’ll report in to the general.”

  Jak nodded and led them off. I turned my horse right, leading him through the streets toward where the Runehold sat looming over Morrowdust’s south quarter. It stood less than half as high as the royal palace, and yet I found something in its sweeping towers more majestic, more solid, and more appealing than the home of the King and Queen.

  As I approached the gate, I heard a sharp whistle that drew my attention. Sitting upon the ramparts, her legs hanging over the edge as though she hadn’t a care in the world, was a young woman with olive skin and black hair tied back in a tail. Her robes were dark blue, a lighter blue trim running across the wrists and along the collar.

  I raised a hand in a half salute, and a smile broke out on my face despite myself. “Lady Reiko,” I called out. “What news?”

  “Bored as a woman paid to watch glaciers,” she called back. “I hope you’ve had more excitement than we have.”

  “Too much, I’m afraid,” I said. “Is Greystone within?”

  She shrugged. “You know him. He’s here, he’s there, then he’s nowhere to be seen.”

  I nodded. I did indeed know the Watcher. “Take care of yourself,” I said with a final wave.

  “I always do.”

  “Tess!”

  The shout snapped me out of the vision. I turned quickly to look at the others around the table. They were staring at me with a mixture of emotions; Calvin and Raven with confusion, Miles with annoyance, and Blade and Sarah with worry.

  “I’m sorry?” I said, not sure if they’d asked a question.

  “I asked if you were all right,” Sarah said.

  I was disoriented. For a moment, I’d almost forgotten where I was. I looked around the room once again, looking past the faces at the table. We were in the royal palace, in the meeting room where we’d first met with Nestor weeks ago. Standing to the side were the Runegard. Nora was studying me, her face dark with concern.

  We were there for a meeting on strategy, I remembered. A large map of Midrealm lay on the table. Various small figures, meant to represent friendly or enemy forces, were scattered across the map, showing troop positions.

  At the head of the table was the King, clad in his ceremonial white robes and crown. But my eyes only stayed on him for a half second before going to Elanor at his side. There, clasped around her throat, was the amulet she’d been wearing since we first came to Midrealm. A silver chain with strange etchings on it, holding half a fist’s worth of amber, carved brilliantly and casting orange light all over the table and the room around her.

  And standing at the edge of the room was a tall man with broad shoulders. His beard was thick and full, his eyes piercing and intelligent. He wore well-used military garb, but it was covered by a white cloak of office. Clasping the cloak at his throat was a symbol that I could recognize by now as the markings of a colonel.

  His name was Pieter. Apparently he’d been promoted since he’d found a destroyed caravan in the Sheepgut forest.

  I looked back at Sarah, who still stared at me as though afraid I would faint at any minute.

  “I’m fine,” I said in a small voice. “I’m sorry, I just got distracted.”

  “Fine. But is that okay with you? We arrive one hour early tomorrow?”

  I nodded again. “Of course. If that’s what we need to do.”

  With a final worried look, she turned back to the conversation with Greystone. I looked back up at Pieter. He didn’t spare me a second glance.

  My name is Tess, and I’m living a double life.

  And that was the first time I read someone’s mind.

  SARAH

  J’ÉBRANLE. VOUS ÉBRANLEZ.

  SHADOWS. THE tombs of the Six.

  Argh. Shut up. Focus.

  J’ébranle. Vous ébranlez. Nous ébranlons.

  What if Terrence has already found the other tombs?

  I sighed and leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose just hard enough to sting. The little stab of pain drove other thoughts out of my head.

  I had to stay present. I’d been slipping recently. Getting B’s instead of A’s. I’d gotten a B- the week before on my calculus exam. That had freaked me out so bad that I’d spent every waking second going back over the material.

  A B-? That was practically a C.

  I sighed again as I realized the stupidity of it. Half my days were spent in another world, a world of magic and wizards where I was one of six people responsible for the fate of two universes, one of them the one I’d been born in. I’d battled Shadows and snuck through the streets of a city, risking my life for an artifact when I didn’t even know what it did.

  And I was still terrified of low grades keeping me out of Stanford.

  Oh yeah, my life was making all kinds of sense right now.

  But I couldn’t let up. I couldn’t let things slip in either world. Because I believed that somehow, some way, we’d win the war in Midrealm. And after that happened, I’d figure out some way to heal my broken life. I’d be on Earth for real and forever. No more night time trips to Midrealm, cool as it was. And when that happened, I needed to have a life to come back to.

  So I leaned back over my desk and started conjugating French verbs again.

  I finished the test with only seconds to spare before the lunch bell. As it rang out, I double-checked my last few answers one more time before standing up and bringing my test to the front of the room.

  “Cutting it a bit close, Sarah,” said Mrs. Thoburn. But she smiled at me as she said it. Mrs. Thoburn had always been one of my favorites She had blue eyes that reminded me of my mom’s and glasses that made her look kind and motherly.

  “Just double-checking stuff,” I said, responding with a smile that wasn’t entirely forced. “Don’t want another grade like last time.”

  Mrs. Thoburn chuckled. “Most kids would be thrilled with an B+.”

  I wasn’t most kids. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. “Anyway, see you tomorrow, Mrs. Thoburn.”

  She waved me off. I dropped my backpack off in my locker on the way to the cafeteria. Once I reached it, I began looking for the others right away. When we’d first started going back and forth between worlds, I tried not to be seen with them. Partially because they included Calvin and Blade, who were people I didn’t necessarily want to be associated with. Also, as crazy as it sounded, I didn�
�t want somebody to start wondering why we were suddenly spending so much time together. I had this bizarre, irrational fear that somehow they’d find out that we were traveling to Midrealm every time we slept.

  Of course, that was impossible. Mind-reading was impossible. At least over here.

  And nowadays there was too much happening in Midrealm for us not to spend at least the occasional lunch period eating together so we could plan. Part of the advantage we had as the Realm Keepers was extra time to figure things out.

  I spotted Miles and Clarissa first and began to head over to them. They were facing away from me, toward the front doors of the cafeteria. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as I got close enough, the tone of their voices stopped me and I couldn’t help but listen.

  “So when can we get together next?” Clarissa asked. Her voice contained a dangerous undercurrent that I understood all too well: I’m annoyed, and you’d better tread carefully.

  Miles, of course, missed it entirely. “I don’t know,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Soon. I promise. Just as soon as I get some more time. Or I feel better.”

  “Well which is it?” Clarissa snapped. “Do you feel bad? Or do you not have enough time? What are you doing with all your extra time, anyway?”

  “You know. Stuff.”

  I winced. When a girl talked to you like that, she didn’t want to hear “stuff.”

  “Cool,” Clarissa said, standing suddenly. “Well, you have fun with your stuff.” I resumed walking, trying to look like I hadn’t just been standing there overhearing everything they said. She turned, tray in her hands, to see me walking up. “Oh,” she said acidly. “Hi, Sarah. Have fun trying to talk to Miles. Apparently he’s super busy.”

  She stalked off. Miles watched her go, confusion plain on his face.

  “What did I say?” he wondered as I sat down next to him.

  “All of the wrong things, and none of the right,” I said honestly, grabbing my milk and popping it open. “Don’t worry about it. She’s just annoyed. She’ll get over it.”

  He gave a grunt. “She feels like I don’t spend enough time with her any more. Which, I guess, I don’t. You know, what with the RK thing. She says I’ve changed.”