Midrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  The way she said “track” raised the hair on the back of my neck, and despite my best efforts, I found myself getting annoyed.

  “Don’t be like that,” I said. “I just had a late morning.”

  She sniffed. I’ve never heard so much disapproval in a sniff. “You never have late mornings. Or at least you didn’t until about a month ago.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know, babe,” I said, shrugging. “It’s this whole sleeping thing. Sometimes my parents just can’t wake me up. And it’s getting worse, where I’m like tired all the time now and stuff.”

  Clarissa shook her head. “No. Don’t give me that excuse. You keep hanging out with Sarah and that little kid Calvin. You know what I think?”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “No idea. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “I think you’re hanging out late with them. And I don’t know what you guys are all doing, but I bet it’s not good. That Blade kid? He’s bad news. And I think he’s getting you guys to do a bunch of stuff that’s going to get you in really, really big trouble when somebody finds out about it.”

  I glared at her. “Even if my friends were doing bad stuff, which they’re not, you think I’m going to start just going along with it? Is that really what you think of me?”

  Her mouth became a thin line. “Honestly, I don’t even know what to think of you any more. All I know is that you’re spending a lot more time with Sarah than you are with me.”

  I took two deep breaths before I trusted myself to respond. “So that’s what this is really about, huh? You’re jealous of Sarah? Do you realize how incredibly ridiculous that sounds?”

  Her chin came up as she stared at me. “Oh, really? It’s ridiculous, huh? She’s on the volleyball team, she’s the class president, she’s cute. Maybe you think you’re trading up. Maybe you’re tired of the same old same old, and want to move on to greener pastures.”

  I shook my head. “No, listen. I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t even think of her like that. I’ve know her my entire life. It’s like you’re talking about my cousin. It’s actually kind of gross, is what it is. It’s stupid.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Did you just call me stupid?”

  And before I could even think about it, I blurted it out. “Well, if you weren’t, then you wouldn’t keep asking me to help you cheat on your stupid biology exams.”

  Hot shame flooded me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she slapped me right there in the hallway. But she didn’t. Her eyes just flared with burning anger for a moment before they chilled to frigid ice.

  “Hold on, babe,” I said quietly. “I didn’t — ”

  BRIIING

  The bell for the next class rang. By the time it had finished sounding out, Clarissa was gone.

  The sword crashed off of my hammer, sending a shock of vibration up my arm. I winced, grunting as I took a step back, trying to regain my footing. But she followed me, pressing the advantage as her sword leapt forward again, aiming for my gut. I barely managed to twist out of the way before its point struck home.

  Thinking quickly, I used the spin to come back around again. I let my hammer’s haft slide through my right hand until I was gripping the end of it, letting the head swing around in a wide arc that swept sideways toward her ribs.

  But before I could finish spinning the rest of the way around, her foot lashed out and caught the back of my knee. I went down hard on the pavement, my warhammer spinning away and out of reach.

  I rolled over in a flash to find a sword tip pressed to my throat.

  “Never turn your back in a fight,” said Melaine.

  I sighed. “Yeah. I get it. I was just thinking on my feet.”

  “No, you were thinking with your head,” said Melaine. “Clearly. Because one’s instinct is never to turn your back on an enemy. Unless, of course, you are a simpleton.” She looked up to the others standing by the courtyard wall. “Is Lord Miles a simpleton? This would explain so much.”

  Calvin shrugged. “Occam’s razor. The simplest solution is usually the right one.”

  Raven grimaced. “Calvin, can’t you even answer a simple question without sounding like the king of all dorks?”

  Blade spoke up, putting on airs and a horrible British accent. “I do believe ‘nerd’ is the preferred term.”

  I sighed. “Okay, can I get up now?”

  Melaine smiled and withdrew the tip of her wooden practice sword. Then she reached down a gloved hand to catch my own.

  “You are getting better,” she said encouragingly. “It is similar to watching a fawn when they first learn to walk. They are all spindly legs swinging everywhere, no motion under their control. But you can see some hint of how the fully-grown deer will eventually be able to survive without its mother.”

  I gritted my teeth and gripped her hand, letting her pull me to my feet. I came up a bit harder than I needed to, using it as an excuse to pitch forward, letting my elbow slam into her gut.

  “Oops,” I said. “Sorry.”

  Melaine grinned. “I scarcely felt it.” She patted me on the back so hard that I practically fell over again.

  “Who’s next?” said Cara, looking over the rest of us.

  “I’ll go, if no one else wants to,” said Blade, raising his hand.

  “You and Samuel have sparred twice already,” Cara said sternly. “Your enthusiasm is admirable, but I am responsible for all of you. Lady Raven, why don’t you and Barius spar next?”

  Raven sighed, but she stepped forward, untying the whip from her belt.

  I retrieved my warhammer from the ground and went over to the wall to stand beside Sarah. She was staring at Raven and Barius as they began to circle each other, looking for an opening. With a shock, I realized Sarah was biting her fingernails.

  “Hey, whoah!” I said, snatching her hand away from her mouth. “What’s up, Sarah? You’re going to chew your whole hand off if you keep going like that.”

  She started and looked up at me. “What? Oh, gosh.” She looked down at her now-nubbed fingernails in shock. “Wow. My mind was somewhere else.”

  “Clearly,” I said, arching an eyebrow. I turned to lean against the wall beside her, watching as Raven took her first crack with the whip. It went wide from Barius’ wrist as he sidestepped.

  “So what’s with all this intense training suddenly, anyway?” I asked her. “I mean, we’re hunting for the tombs with an army, right? Aren’t they going to be with us twenty-four-seven, doing our fighting for us? Shouldn’t we be focusing on our magic?”

  Sarah looked at me absently. “Oh,” she said. “I don’t know. I guess Greystone wants us to be ready for anything.”

  “You okay?” I asked. “You seem distracted.”

  She blinked. “I don’t know. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel like things are right about to start getting intense. Even more so than Faya.”

  Sarah nodded. “Definitely more so than Faya,” she said. It sounded like an omen.

  Before I could ask her about it, though, one of Morrowdust’s bells cut the air. Not the hour’s bell. It was a long, steady peal, ringing out again and again. The alarm bell.

  Raven stopped mid-swing, and Barius turned to the sound. Cara stepped forward, looking up. All of us were frozen, as though unable or unwilling to believe what we were hearing.

  “The barrier gate!” cried Cara suddenly, breaking the spell. “Quickly! Get your mounts!”

  As though her voice had been a crack of Raven’s whip, we ran for the stables. Melaine was right beside me, sprinting despite her armor. Cara got there first, shouting a command to the first stableboy she saw.

  Within minutes, fresh horses were brought out for us to ride. We leapt into the saddles. Or rather, most of us leapt into our saddles, while Calvin flailed helplessly for a few seconds with his legs beating the air like one of those wind-up swimmer toys. Eventually Darren grabbed one of his legs and pulled it over the other side of the saddl
e.

  We made our way through the streets of Morrowdust quickly. People filled the streets, staring nervously up at the sound of the ringing bell. They scattered out of the way as we came.

  Once we cleared the city gate, we broke into a hard gallop that carried us to the barrier gate in the span of a few brief minutes. We reined up to find Greystone already there, striding away from his own horse and toward the door leading up the barrier gate’s right hand tower. He turned at the sound of approach and beckoned to us urgently.

  “Come!” he cried. “Quickly! All of you!”

  I hopped off my horse, looking around. With the ringing of the bell, I half expected to see an army of Shadows crowding around the barrier on either side of the gate, yelling and roaring as they tried to breach it. But there was nothing. At least nothing that I could see.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Melaine.

  “You know what I know, my Lord,” she said uncertainly. “I suggest we follow Greystone if we wish to find out more.”

  I nodded, and we took off after the old man.

  I’d never been inside the gate’s tower before. There was a long, circular wooden staircase running around the inside of it. I quickly lost count of the number of flights. It reminded me of climbing a skyscraper: you didn’t really get a sense of how tall the building was until you were trying to climb it on foot.

  “Can’t the old man just fly us to the top of this thing?” complained Raven, breathing heavily beside me.

  “Too many people,” replied Calvin, huffing and puffing just as hard. “I could maybe do it, but then again I might drop all of us and send us falling to our deaths.”

  “Yeah, so maybe not the best idea,” I said.

  “Easy for you to say, track star,” Raven said irritably. “Not all of us are in shape.”

  I shrugged. “And whose fault is that?”

  Calvin snickered.

  We came out of the top of the staircase into the platform on top of the tower. Dozens of archers surrounded us, and I could see more along the wall above the gate. Still more were stationed atop the tower on the other side.

  Greystone led us all to the battlements, where we looked out over the lands below. They were empty. All I could see was green, rolling fields that stretched to the horizon. There was no sign of any enemy.

  “What the heck?” I murmured. “There’s nothing here.”

  “There,” said Greystone grimly, pointing.

  I turned to see a single rider in black approaching. He was coming from the southeast, at an angle to the main gate. He was unhurried, his horse approaching at a slow walk. He seemed almost nonchalant, even though he had almost a hundred archers watching his every move.

  “Podric,” growled Cara. I looked at her, surprised. She had to have eyes like a hawk to see him that far away.

  After a few tense minutes, the rider finally came within shouting distance of the gate. There he stopped, reining in his horse. For a few seconds he simply sat there, seeming to inspect the back of his horse’s head. Then he raised his hands, pulling his hood back to reveal his face.

  I gasped.

  He wasn’t entirely bald. He had thin, mangy patches of hair clinging to random spots on his head, as though he’d taken an electric razor to it but missed several large areas. His skin glistened even from this distance, and it was yellowed. I saw black veins running beneath it like a spiderweb pattern. Despite the disease, he looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

  He raised a hand, waving to us as though greeting old friends. “Greybones!” he called out. “What say you to a parley?”

  Greystone was silent, staring at the man with eyes full of hate. For a brief moment I thought he was simply going to blast the guy out of existence. I wondered if I would mind. This guy was creepy.

  “Who is that?” Sarah asked, putting a hand on Greystone’s arm. It distracted him, forcing him to turn his eyes away from the man on the horse.

  “His name is Podric,” Greystone spat. “He is a traitor. A citizen of Morrowdust who has sided with the enemy. They have rewarded him well, I see.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” asked Calvin in a small voice.

  “It is the corruption of Chaos,” Barius said. I could hear the same anger in his words that saturated the voices of Greystone and Cara. “It pollutes the body and clouds the mind. It is like a plague that never eases its victim’s pain by killing them. In return it makes them nearly impervious to pain, incredibly fast and strong.”

  “There is more than one kind of strength,” said Greystone sharply. “And a man who has given himself over to evil lacks the only strength that truly matters.”

  Podric called out again. “Come, old man!” he said. “I have come to speak. Has your tongue been cut out?”

  “Yours shall be if you remain!” shouted Greystone. His voice rang out like a war horn. “Begone, wretch! There is no room for parley with the likes of you or your kennel master!”

  Podric only laughed in response to Greystone’s words. He waved a sickly yellow hand airily. “Come now! There is no need for such nastiness. You have not even heard our terms.”

  “I am not interested in them.”

  “But you should be,” said Podric, his voice turning sickly sweet and sing-song. “You should recognize the wisdom in them, or you and yours will surely perish, along with all of Midrealm.”

  I tapped Melaine on the shoulder. She turned to me, the design tattooed on her face contorted in a scowl. “He’s in league with Terrence?” I murmured.

  She nodded. “His minion. He fought beside him at the Battle of the Circle.”

  Suddenly I realized why he looked familiar. He’d been cowering there beside Terrence on the hill overlooking the battle the first day we’d come to Midrealm.

  Sarah stepped closer to Greystone. “We should listen to what he’s come to say,” she said quietly.

  Greystone’s eyes flashed at her. “I am not interested in his lies and blustering. He has nothing to say of value.”

  “We might be able to figure out their plan,” Sarah pressed. “He may say something to give them away. Let him propose what he’s come here to propose. We can just say no.”

  Greystone gave an irritated growl and pounded his staff on the stone of the tower. “Very well,” he said. Then, again calling out, he said, “Spit your poisoned words and begone! Linger, and I do not guarantee your safety.”

  Podric laughed like a maniac, like a man who believes he’s invincible. “I truly believe you. I believe that you hate me enough to break the sacred bonds that protect me as a messenger. How adorable.”

  “You seek to bind me with sacred oaths?” Greystone shouted, his anger rising. “After what you have done?”

  Podric just laughed again and shook his head. “Calm yourself, little old man. I come on behalf of a higher power. I will not defy his wishes by angering you further.”

  The humor drifted away from his face, leaving his smile filled with cold cruelty. “We know you were in Faya, Greybones.”

  Greystone held his peace, but I saw Calvin and Raven start. They looked at Greystone uneasily.

  “Yes,” said Podric. “We know everything. And we know that you stole from the tomb. Did you really think you could conceal your designs from us so completely? The master knows all. The master sees all.”

  “Your master sees too late, it seems,” retorted Greystone. “Unless it fit his infinite wisdom to allow us to take that which he so desperately sought.”

  Podric’s face twisted in a grimace of rage and hate, but just as quickly it was gone, replaced by the same softly mocking smile. “Your words are dust under my boot heel,” he said. “I come to bring you salvation: return to us that which you stole from Faya like thieves in the dark. If you do not, we will burn Morrowdust to the ground.”

  The Runegard’s hands strayed to their swords. The archers around us looked around uncertainly, as though checking that the barrier was still there.

  But Greystone laugh
ed, and at the sound of that laugh our anxiety dissipated into the wind. The laugh was not cruel, but it was mocking. It’s the sound a parent makes when their child scowls at them and threatens them with a time out.

  “Begone, wretch,” said Greystone. “Your threats are meaningless. Your master is powerless against us. He knows it, and this is why he sets you upon us like a dog at heel. He seeks to bluster and bluff, hoping to swell the tide of fear in our hearts. Begone, and tell him that we see him for the pathetic, slithering snake that he is. And tell him that we are very good at hunting snakes.”

  This time the smile left Podric’s face fully, and he snarled in hatred. “You know not what doom you have consigned yourself to,” he roared. “I will laugh as Terrence toys with your corpses, making you dance upon the ends of his strings until your limbs fall apart.” He spat in the grass before his horse.

  Greystone turned and started to walk toward the door leading back into the tower. He stopped short, turning to one of the archers at the wall. “A gold mark to every man that plants an arrow in his stupid face.”

  The man grinned wanly. “It’s a far shot, my Lord,” he replied. “But we’ll do our best.”

  “I am sure you will.” Greystone strode off. I was amazed he didn’t yell at the guy that he wasn’t a lord.

  We stepped into the tower to the sounds of bowstrings twanging and a startled yelp from the field before the gate. We went quickly to the bottom and came back out. Curious, I poked my head around the edge of the tower to observe the field beyond the barrier. I saw a figure in black riding away, quickly lost to sight over the rolling hills of the grasslands.

  “They missed,” I remarked. “Too bad.”

  Greystone waved. “Of all our worries, I rank Podric least. He is nothing but a sniveling coward under the sway of a much darker, more terrible power.”

  We climbed on our horses once again and rode back to Morrowdust at a much calmer and more relaxed pace than when we’d ridden out. But despite Greystone’s reassurances and the sight of Podric fleeing ingloriously across the landscape, I felt a somber mood on the whole party. It was a feeling of anticipation, like we all knew that things weren’t quite over, and we didn’t know what came next.