Midrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  I looked at the back seat as I climbed in. It was filled with discarded Pringles containers, empty cans of Coke and other assorted food trash.

  “Dude, is that what you’ve been eating?” I asked, shocked.

  “Sure is,” he said with a grin. “And you and I are going fifty-fifty on some more of it, because it’s cheap, it’s tasty and it’ll keep us alive.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I guess.” I slammed my door shut. “Let’s go.”

  “As you wish,” said Blade, still grinning. “Welcome to the war.”

  SARAH

  THE SPEAR OF ROCK I summoned went right through the brain of the last hellion. As one, the Shadows on the ground turned tail and ran. They scampered away from the barrier gate like an army of dragons was on their tails.

  Which they weren’t, and wouldn’t be as long as we stayed in Morrowdust.

  I sank to my knees, my forehead pressing against the cool, rough stone in front of me. I was panting. I was on the verge of passing out. Every day it got worse. Every attack got a little bit fiercer. Every day more and more bodies were dragged from behind the ramparts to be replaced by more archers. The soldiers had stopped trying to wash the blood from under our feet. Now we just let it dry, cursing when we slipped on some patch that was still a bit moist.

  Calvin was seated and leaning against the parapets, his chest heaving. Miles was to my other side, looking like he might fall asleep where he stood. Blade and the others were on the opposite tower.

  I had a bandage wrapped around my right arm where an arrow had grazed it in the last attack. Calvin’s wall of air had broken down at the worst possible second, and I’d barely hit the deck before a cloud of arrows struck. I’d been lucky to get off with just the scratch.

  And I’d been luckier than some of the others, too. Blade had struck his head on stone when the beating wings of a crow had knocked him down. Raven had taken an arrow shaft all the way through her lower thigh. A few inches lower and she’d never have walked again. Calvin kept saying, “I used to be the Keeper of Lightning, but then I took an arrow in the knee,” over and over, until Blade had threatened to set his hair on fire.

  It was too much. We were wearing down. Greystone’s spells of rejuvenation barely had any effect any more, and he was spending more and more time in Morrowdust discussing strategy with Nestor.

  “I am of scarce use on the wall,” he’d told me when I asked him about it. “Compared to the destruction that the six of you can wreak, my sputtering flames and bolts count for little. But this war will not be won by the Realm Keepers, despite the continued growth of your powers. It will be won by men and blades, and we have too few of them. I must work with Nestor to mend that lack before Terrence strikes once and for all.”

  And meanwhile we continued to fight. Nearly dead on our feet, we fought. Wounded, we fought. In danger of dying at any moment, with any careless act, we fought.

  “Just come already,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Calvin’s head lolled to the side to look at me. “What?” he said.

  I ignored him and got up, looking at the Shadows as they ran and looking past them to the vast horde that was mustered on the edge of the horizon, almost out of sight.

  “Just come already!” I shouted, startling several of the soldiers around me. “Come on! Bring it all! Bring everything you’ve got! Just get it over with and be done! Why are you waiting?”

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun to find Miles. “Sarah…” he began.

  I flung his arm away. “It’s time for us to go home,” I growled. “Calvin, you’re on night shift. Tell Tess to hurry. We’re going to be late for school.” I spat the word.

  I stalked to the door leading into the tower. Cara leapt to my side, following me silently down the tower. I half expected her to ask what was wrong as we climbed down. Heck, I half wanted her to. But she was silent.

  I hit the bottom floor and stalked out, finding my mount ready to go. Silent still, Cara mounted up and rode out with me. We thundered through the men camped below the barrier. I ignored their calls, their waves, their grateful faces staring up at me.

  The steady rhythm of the horse moving below me eventually began to soothe my nerves. I took a few deep breaths.

  I couldn’t let myself break down like that, at least not in front of the others. We were all going through this together. They didn’t need me as an excuse to start lashing out.

  I slowed my horse down to a canter, Cara slowing her pace effortlessly to match mine. “Sorry,” I said to her. “I behaved badly.”

  “It is understandable, my Lady,” she said. “If it reassures you at all, I share in your frustration. Give me a battle on the open field. Win or lose, the decision comes quickly. It is easier to accept than all this waiting and skulking about.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  The rest of our ride to the city was silent, but it was a more comfortable sort of silence. A tired one, and no longer an angry one.

  But as we reached the gate, I heard an entirely different angry voice raised in a shout. A voice I recognized. I looked up to see a wizened old figure in grey atop the city’s gate.

  “Greystone,” I sighed. “Come on. Let’s go see what he’s upset about now.”

  “What is the Watcher not upset about lately, my Lady?” Cara said. I distinctly heard a smirk in the tone of her voice.

  I led my horse in through the gates and gave it to one of the guards there. Together with Cara I climbed the steps to the wall above the gate where I found Greystone in conference with the King and Queen, who had their backs to me. And by “conference,” I mean that he was ranting at them while Elanor looked angry and Nestor looked tired.

  “Do you think we have all the time in the world?” Greystone was saying. “We need men and swords now. Not in a week. Not in two weeks. Today. Yesterday, if possible.”

  “They are on the march, but with the added delay…” Nestor shook his head. “There is little more that can be done.”

  “And what of the men from Stanchion?”

  “Two days at the earliest,” said Nestor. “Three is more likely. But I have commanded them to proceed with all possible haste.”

  Greystone shook his head, his wild hair flying all around. The old man looked as worn out as we all felt. His robes were wrinkled and dusty, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in months rather than the week it had been since the siege began.

  “None of this worry would be necessary if we would at least entertain a treaty with Terrence,” said Elanor. “Honestly, Watcher, what do you consider the more desirable alternative? A slow but inevitable death once Chaos finally breaches the barrier? Or a watchful peace once we give Terrence the artifact?”

  “Peace with Chaos is impossible,” said Greystone. “Terrence has given himself fully to the enemy. He will not rest until Midrealm lays in waste under his boots, and True Earth as well.”

  Elanor gave a gentle shrug that said without words how little she cared for Greystone’s point. “Then we are resigned to death. The gate will not hold forever. Our men approach exhaustion, and we have less arrows to fire than Terrence has Shadows to fire them at.”

  I decided to step in before Greystone unleashed the fury I saw building inside him. “If you think your men are going to fail us, you’re dead wrong,” I said. “They’re fighting just as hard as we are up there. This is their home, and not a single one of them is going to back down from defending it to their dying breaths.”

  Elanor and Nestor seemed surprised to see me there. Immediately Nestor dipped into a polite bow. “Greetings, Chosen,” he said.

  Elanor followed suit after a pause that was just long enough to be rude. I ignored it.

  Nestor continued. “You are right, of course. Our men are valiant, a truth they prove more and more with every passing day. But while the enemy cannot get in, neither can we get out.”

  “Agreed,” I said with a nod. “So what’s this situation with the reinforcement
s? I’ve been delayed by my duties on the wall. Why doesn’t someone bring me up to speed?”

  Greystone gave a short, huffy growl. “Word has been sent to every city in Athorn to muster their troops. But for obvious reasons, they cannot approach our gate. Instead they must travel to Stanchion, adding days to the march of even the closest cities.”

  “And we cannot sally forth until our strength has been gathered,” Nestor said ruefully. “We have three thousands of our men upon the field before the gate. Our scouts and Lady Raven have told us that Terrence has many times that beyond our borders. We cannot risk such a battle until we have summoned all the strength that can be mustered.”

  The door behind me opened, and Tess and Miles stepped through with Nora and Melaine. I gave them a nod before turning back to Nestor.

  “I think I may have an idea on that,” I said, “but I’ll have to discuss it with Greystone first. I wouldn’t want to waste time on a suggestion that won’t work.”

  Greystone’s eyebrows raised. “Perhaps the two of us should retire to the Runehold, then,” he said. He eyed Elanor with a scowl. “In any event, I have quite had my fill of council for the day.”

  Elanor gave a simpering smile. “I am so sorry that my advice proved less than helpful. I suppose I should adopt the same attitude as everyone else, that Greystone’s word is law and we should all be mindless slaves to its sway.”

  “And I suppose I should adopt the same attitude you so carefully cultivate,” Greystone retorted, “that the lot of us should get on our backs and expose our bellies for Terrence to gut.”

  Elanor’s face shot through with red in an instant. “You are a foolish old man who will not listen to reason,” she snarled. “You would see my kingdom burned to ash before you would relinquish your arrogant, stubborn pride.”

  “Knock it off!” shouted Tess. I was so unused to hearing her yell that I closed my own mouth in shock, holding back the words I’d been about to say.

  Tess stepped forward, brushing her hair back to glare at Elanor. “You think Greystone’s too proud?” she asked. The anger in her voice seemed out of place, as though she was unused to it being there and wasn’t quite sure how to use it. “He’s protected your kingdom for nine hundred years. He didn’t ask for this, but he does it anyway. And we’re out there fighting with your men, who die every day while you sleep a full night and eat your fancy meals. I’m so sick of you! You could at least be grateful for what we’re doing!”

  I put a calming hand on her shoulder, gently turning her toward me. “Tess, it’s okay,” I said quietly. “Don’t get so worked up.”

  Elanor had fallen silent at Tess’ rebuke. She looked just as angry, but something kept her from speaking. Something in the way she looked at Tess. She was angry, but more than that, she was calculating. I didn’t like it.

  But before anyone could speak further, I heard a great fwoomp sound. It was like all sound had suddenly become muted. I realized why it sounded familiar — the day we’d first come to Midrealm, Greystone had cast a spell that froze time around us. It had sounded the same, except this noise was far larger, vast enough to cover the world.

  Greystone looked up at the sky, his face a sudden mask of fear.

  “Hello, Greybones.”

  The malicious voice shook the air, reverberating in my bones and making me want to cower in a corner. I looked up, following Greystone’s gaze, to see a face I hadn’t seen in well over a month, since the first time I stepped out of the summoning circle where I became a Realm Keeper.

  Terrence.

  He was floating in the sky above us. Or rather, his image was. It was like he was being projected in the sky beyond the barrier. I realized with a start how truly massive the image must be, since it loomed over us even two miles away. Somehow, whatever magic he was using carried his voice through the muting effect the barrier usually had on sound.

  He stood bare-chested, the same way he had looked the first time I laid eyes on him. But now his skin was dotted with tattoos I hadn’t seen before, symbols that were ugly and twisted. He wore a thick leather baldric, above which I saw the hilt of a sword on his back. Behind him I could barely make out Podric lurking, along with another figures in black who I couldn’t quite make out.

  “You have done well with the children at your command in such a short space of time,” Terrence said, a wide smile on his face. “I was not expecting to face such opposition from your Realm Keepers for quite a bit longer.” He raised his hands and gave a few short, mocking claps.

  “The thought of revenge upon a hated traitor may provide powerful motivation,” called Greystone. “I rest well each night assured that I will have it.”

  It didn’t seem like Greystone’s tiny voice could possibly reach all the way to Terrence’s ears, but in the projection I saw him chuckle. “Such an optimistic old fool. And a liar as well. I have it on unquestionable authority that you have not been resting easily. Neither you, nor the children who scuttle to do your bidding.”

  Greystone’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring. “What do you want, snake?” he shouted. “I wish to be rid of the foul sight of you. Your face turns my stomach.”

  Terrence looked shocked, putting a hand to his heart. “How easily you cast aside the bonds of our long friendship,” he said, sounding hurt. “But very well, since you insist. I offer you this final chance to relinquish the artifact you found in the tomb of Adurin. Give it to me now, and my army retreats. We will continue this little disagreement another day. Continue to withhold that which I seek, and I will raze your city to the ground.”

  The confidence in his voice unnerved me, but if it affected Greystone, he didn’t show it. “Your threats ring emptier every time they are uttered,” said Greystone. “You have tried for days now to fulfill them. Yet you are without, while we are safely — ”

  Elanor stepped to the edge of the wall beside Greystone and called out in a high, clear voice: “If we give you the ring, do you swear you will withdraw your troops?”

  Greystone whirled on her, looking for a moment as if he might strike her before he caught himself. The queen’s guards lunged forward, hands on their weapons, but in an instant the Runegard were there, swords already out. Cara gave the barest shake of her head. The guards glared at them, but they held still.

  Nestor snatched Elanor’s arm and dragged her away from the wall while she screamed in protest. He put her in the hands of one of the soldiers standing at the tower door. “Restrain the Queen within the tower,” he snapped. “Do not release her until I say otherwise.” The door slammed and Nestor turned to Greystone, fuming. “I apologize,” he said quietly.

  Terrence’s deep, booming voice echoed through the air, making me shudder. “Oh, do not apologize,” he said amiably. “Even though the lovely Elanor has revealed that the artifact is a ring, what of it? It is of little consequence. Is that, perchance, the ring which the Keeper of Fire has been wearing of late? I often suspected, but it would have been unwise to act without confirming the fact. But since Elanor has put the question forth, I will offer you an assurance if you wish.”

  Greystone’s eyes narrowed to points. “Your assurances and oaths mean nothing to me,” he said. “You have broken enough oaths for a lifetime.”

  “Nevertheless, I make them,” Terrence said, smile never leaving his face. “If you give me the ring, I will leave you be. For now. I swear it on the life of the only woman I have ever loved.”

  That made me blink.

  “You have the only answer you will get from us, traitor,” said Greystone angrily. “Now begone. I am sure your lapdog would sooner hear your words of bluster and threat and your empty promises than I would.”

  Terrence chuckled again. “Your impudence is as endearing as it is unsurprising. So be it. Morrowdust will be a memory, and soon after all of Athorn.”

  Then the smile on Terrence’s face disappeared, and he started murmuring words under his breath. I was shocked to realize that even with the magic that allowed me to understa
nd the languages in Midrealm, I couldn’t make any sense of what he was saying.

  Greystone’s face went white. He whirled on Nestor. “What do you have that is not yours?” he barked.

  Nestor started at the tone of his voice. “What?”

  “What do you have?” Greystone shouted, stepping forward. Nestor took a hesitant step back. “Something you were given. A gift. Quickly!”

  “Nothing! I have nothing!” said Nestor, his face flushing with anger and confusion. “What is it?”

  Greystone looked him over. Then suddenly his eyes shot wide. “The Queen!” he cried.

  In an instant, Cara, Nora and Melaine were running for the tower door. They burst in and reemerged a moment later dragging Elanor, who screamed in protest. All the while, Terrence kept muttering his words in the sky above us.

  “What is it?” I asked Greystone. I put a hand on his arm, but he flung it off.

  “What are you wearing?” Greystone cried, grabbing Elanor’s shoulders and shaking her. “A gift, something! What is it?”

  “What in Chaos below are you talking about?” cried Elanor.

  Nestor stepped in, pushing Greystone back firmly, though not roughly. Greystone’s eyes lit with a fiery anger. “We receive gifts every day,” said Nestor. “You cannot expect us to — ”

  My eyes flew past him to see Elanor clutching the amulet at her neck, her eyes suddenly wide and astonished, her face pale and fearful. Her gaze flicked upward to Terrence in the sky.

  “Greystone!” I shouted. “The amulet!”

  Greystone looked at me, then at the Queen. Her hand was wrapped tight around it, clutching the amber with white knuckles.

  “Amber!” he cried in rage, as though realizing it for the first time. “Give it to me! Quickly!”

  He lunged for the queen. Her guards leapt forward, and Nora and Melaine broke off to grapple with them. Greystone seized the amulet, but Elanor refused to relinquish her hold.

  “Get your hands off me!” Elanor screamed.