Keeper of the Realms: Crow's Revenge (Book 1)

by Marcus Alexander

  ‘Y-y-ya won’t hurt us?’ whimpered the captain. ‘Ya won’t turn us inta skunks or nothing?’

  ‘No, no,’ promised Azariah. He threw Charlie and Nibbler a quick wink. ‘I won’t do anything like that. Just so long as you behave.’

  ‘We will, we will!’ promised the tearful captain, his kilt now heavy and dripping with water. ‘I’m sorry ta have been so rude, b-b-but I was just following orders.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you were,’ agreed Azariah, quite amicably. ‘And out of interest, whose orders were they?’

  ‘Lord Nazareth’s, yer honourship.’

  ‘Aah,’ said Azariah, giving Charlie a knowing look. ‘Everything becomes clearer now. And what were his exact orders?’

  ‘Ta place ya under arrest and bring ya back ta the Jade Circle.’

  ‘Oh, how very surprising,’ said Azariah in a dry drawl. Charlie got the impression he wasn’t at all surprised by this news. ‘Hhmm, well, we can’t allow you to disappoint Lord Nazareth, can we?’

  ‘Er … no, yer … lordiness,’ gabbled the captain. ‘We can’t?’

  ‘No of course we can’t. Arresting me and my guest is obviously out of the question, but I’m sure that no harm would come from you escorting us to the Jade Tower. What do you say?’

  ‘Uh, wotever yer most excellent excellency requires,’ the captain quickly agreed as he clutched at the few straws on offer.

  ‘Glad to hear it, old chap. Very well, then. Nibbler, Charlie, if you would be so good as to join me.’

  Charlie grinned, impressed by how quickly Azariah had turned the situation around in their favour. Nibbler smirked as he passed the sodden Treman guards. The captain was on his hands and knees, struggling to reclaim his helmet from the pond and the bemused frog.

  Once all the guards had collected their discarded armour from across Azariah’s lawn, they fell into place behind the three companions to form a guard of honour, albeit a very soggy and dishevelled one that squelched as it marched across Sylvaris to the Jade Tower.

  39

  A Courtroom Fiasco

  People began to point and stare as the small procession walked past. Much of the attention was reserved for Nibbler, but the city’s inhabitants were also curious as to the identity of the scruffy young girl walking at the head of the small parade. Charlie began to blush at all the attention. Nibbler, on the other hand, appeared to love it and soon he was strutting up and down by Charlie’s side.

  ‘Stop it!’ hissed Charlie. ‘Everyone’s looking!’

  ‘I know. Great, isn’t it?’ smirked Nibbler, puffing out his chest and prancing about. ‘I could get used to this.’

  ‘It’s embarrassing!’

  ‘What? No, it’s not – it’s great! Hey, look at those guys, they’re all waving! Hiya! Hi, guys, how you doing? Hey, look at me! Check these bad boys,’ bragged Nibbler, tensing his muscles, pulling some fancy footwork and flapping his powerful wings for everyone’s entertainment. ‘Wheee, yeah! I’m hot, I’m smoking, I’m on fire!’

  Charlie slapped her hand over her eyes as Nibbler started blowing smoke rings, shooting out little jets of flame and generally making an exhibition of himself. Did he have no shame?

  Azariah smiled fondly as he watched the antics of his young charges. Turning off the main boulevard, he led the small procession across a sweeping bridge and into the Jade Tower.

  Upon their arrival, servants swung open the many doors that led into the Council Chamber. Footmen cried out to announce their arrival as the unusual procession swept in to meet the Jade Circle.

  ‘At last,’ spat Nazareth. His beady shark’s eyes glared at the trio.

  ‘A Winged One?’ exclaimed Dridif, observing Nibbler. ‘But the hibernation period is not yet over.’

  Nibbler stepped forward as the other councillors expressed their shock at the sight of the sacred creature. They all quietened as he spoke. ‘I am a Hatchling,’ he explained. ‘My Chrysalis Period was interrupted by a call for help from this young Keeper.’ He nodded towards Charlie. ‘But I’m afraid I don’t yet possess the wisdom of my elders.’

  Dridif nodded, but looked unsettled. Nazareth was quick to react. With a grand, eloquent gesture he bowed formally to those gathered around the table. Before anyone could say a word he launched his attack.

  ‘As a councillor I would like to formally lay charges of aggravated assault and treason against Azariah and Charlie Keeper.’ His words were laced with poisonous intent. ‘And seeing that they have finally managed to grace us with their presence, I should like to move briskly forward and proceed with the prosecution.’

  Immediately there was uproar as the whole chamber dissolved into bedlam and chaos. Voices screamed and hollered, fingers were pointed and wild accusations were flung about as Charlie, Azariah and Nibbler stood silently, shocked by the mayhem.

  Through the pandemonium Charlie couldn’t help but notice that Lady Narcissa, seated on the far side of the Jade Table, was calm and collected, the perfect image of innocence. She gave Charlie a knowing smile. But Charlie wasn’t fooled: she could still see the cold, icy look of hatred hidden deep in the councillor’s eyes. Stix and Stones were standing nearby with menacing expressions plastered across their faces. Charlie shivered out of reflex before rebelliously glaring back at her opponents.

  It was Dridif, the Royal Oak, who returned order to the Council Chamber in her usual manner of slamming her hands on the Jade Table. It was like a thunderclap going off right inside the room.

  She then stared pointedly at each and every councillor until they looked away, shamefaced. One by one the blushing and embarrassed councillors took their seats. Finally only she and Nazareth were left standing. Dridif raised one eyebrow.

  ‘Why aren’t those two Keepers in irons?’ snapped Nazareth, ignoring Dridif’s warning look. ‘They are supposed to be under arrest. Handcuff them!’

  ‘Nazareth,’ said Dridif.

  ‘Well, don’t just stand there, Captain. Arrest them!’ hissed Nazareth, still pointedly ignoring Dridif.

  ‘Oh, Nazareth …’ whispered Dridif in a soft, sing-song voice.

  ‘Captain, I won’t tell you again,’ threatened Nazareth, unaware that the room had gone deathly quiet and that all eyes were upon him. ‘Those two are traitors and as such …’

  ‘NAZARETH!’ howled Dridif.

  Charlie flinched. She’d never heard anything like it. It was the roar of a banshee, the shout of an angered goddess, the scream of a hundred thousand voices all hollering in unison.

  Nazareth, caught by the full force of Dridif’s hurricane, was hurled across the room to slam heavily against the far wall. Slowly he slid to the floor. Dridif made a slight clawing gesture with her finger and Nazareth’s unconscious body tottered upright and lurched back to his chair. Releasing her hold upon him, Nazareth slumped forward so that his head rested on the table’s surface. He began to drool down the side of his mouth.

  ‘I will not abide any – ANY! – disobedience while I hold dis chair!’ snapped Dridif. Her old, wise face creased with anger. ‘If there are ta be any accusations levelled here today it will be done in a calm, polite and professional manner.’

  Once again Dridif fixed each and every councillor with her steely gaze. When she was sure she’d got her message across, she made another little whirling motion with her finger. Nazareth awoke with a start. Looking wildly around the Council Chamber, he hurriedly straightened his robes, sorted out his beard and wiped the drool from his face. Folding his hands neatly together on the table, he straightened his back and generally tried to sit still like a good little boy.

  Charlie couldn’t quite stop a smirk from appearing on her face. Curiosity also got the better of her. ‘How does Lady Dridif do that?’ she whispered to Azariah. ‘It’s not tree-singing, is it?’

  ‘No, it is not,’ replied Azariah, also whispering out the side of his mouth. ‘Dridif’s strength comes from the Jade Table. It is a gift from the Winged Ones. As a sign of their support and belief in the Jad
e Circle, they have embedded the table with some of their power. Whoever leads the Jade Circle controls its powers. In this case it’s Dridif and while she’s in this room she is very much the boss.’

  ‘So it’s magic?’

  ‘What is it with you and magic? It isn’t magic, it’s a –’

  ‘Stop that whispering!’ scolded Dridif. ‘Now, if we can all agree ta act like adults we shall begin again. Nazareth, ya wish ta accuse Azariah and Charlie Keeper of assault and treason?’

  ‘Er …’ Nazareth coughed slightly and did his very best not to shoot a quick tell-tale glance in Narcissa’s direction. Still dazed, he shook himself and hurriedly collected his thoughts. It didn’t take long for his lofty, self-important expression to settle back on to his face. ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘And why do ya wish ta make these charges?’ enquired Dridif.

  ‘Because that little brat,’ snarled Nazareth, getting back into the flow of things, ‘in association with Azariah Keeper, conspired to sell the secrets of her pendant to Bane, the Western Menace. When she was caught in the act she, with the aid of the rogue Winged One we see before us, assaulted Lady Narcissa, near-poisoned one of the Delightful Brothers and made good her escape by using a forbidden set of Isiris Bracelets on the remaining Delightful Brother.’

  At that point Charlie took a step forward to protest, but Azariah held out his hand to stop her.

  ‘I would also like to point out,’ Nazareth continued, ‘that before she fled the scene of the crime she and the Winged One tried to hide the evidence of her actions by setting fire to the Ivory Tower. Fortunately only the uppermost floor was burned before the brave Alavisian Watchmen managed to extinguish the blaze. That little girl is a clear and present danger to the safety of Sylvaris! I demand that she be jailed!’

  Charlie couldn’t believe it. They’d changed everything around so that she was the scapegoat! Nazareth was setting her up to take the fall for Narcissa’s evil dealings. Charlie’s jaw dropped open. She was, for perhaps the very first time in her life, completely and utterly dumbfounded.

  ‘And can ya prove these accusations? Do ya have any witnesses?’

  Nazareth smirked. ‘Oh yes, I most certainly do. And I have evidence to prove their guilt. In fact, if I could call forward my first witness, Aranea, Mistress of the Spinnery, then I’m quite sure –’

  ‘There will be time for witnesses later,’ interrupted Dridif. She stared at Charlie and Azariah as though weighing up their worth. ‘And what do ya have ta say about all of dis, Charlie Keeper?’

  ‘It’s a great big, dirty, stinking lie!’ retorted Charlie. ‘You might all think that Lady Narcissa is a nice and kind woman, but she’s nothing of the sort! She beat me, slapped me, forced me to do horrible, twisted things, let her two sons bully me, threw me into her stinking cattle pens and tried to sell me and my pendant to Bane! She’s the traitor, not me!’

  ‘Oh, come now, you surely can’t expect anyone here to believe that?’ chuckled Nazareth. ‘The word of a scruffy, spoilt teenager against the word of Lady Narcissa, one of our most valued councillors? Oh, please!’

  ‘It’s true!’ shouted Charlie, stamping her foot in frustration. ‘She’s in league with Bane and she means to sell you all out!’

  ‘Well, it appears as though we have a contradiction in accusations here,’ said Dridif, staring first at Charlie and then at Nazareth, a shrewd look in her wise eyes. ‘Nazareth, ya accuse Charlie Keeper of dealing with Bane and ya say that ya have proof. Correct?’

  ‘That is quite right, your Honour, absolutely –’

  ‘A simple “yes” will suffice, Nazareth. Please don’t get carried away with grand gestures. It annoys me and I know that ya wouldn’t want ta displease me any further.’

  ‘Er, no, First Speaker,’ muttered Nazareth.

  ‘And you, Charlie Keeper, you accuse Lady Narcissa of the same crime, do ya not?’

  ‘Yes, I do!’ said Charlie, with a fierce glare at Nazareth. ‘And the Delightful Brothers, they’re in on it too!’

  ‘Well, thank ya for clearing that up.’ Dridif smiled, but there was no humour or kindness in her eyes, just cold logic as she added up all the facts. This wasn’t Dridif, the nice old Treman who had first welcomed Charlie into Sylvaris; this was Lady Dridif, the Iron Councillor, whose first and foremost duty was to protect her city. Dridif clapped her hands together sharply. ‘Guards! Seal dis room. No one is ta get in or go out without me express permission!’

  A muttering and rumbling of disbelief erupted from all the councillors as heavily armed Treman guards took up positions in front of all the doors. As one, they drew their swords.

  ‘Might I enquire why you feel it necessary for such an action?’ asked Flint, the large Stoman councillor. ‘No blade has been drawn in this Council Chamber for the past one hundred and twenty years!’

  ‘Is it not obvious?’ said Dridif. ‘Logic dictates that if each is accusing the other of the same crime, then one of them must surely be guilty. Guilty of treason against Sylvaris! With the exits barred, the traitor is trapped, so now all we have ta do is discover who is lying and who is telling the truth.’

  40

  A Dark God

  ‘Pah! What is the meaning of this?’ sputtered Mr Crow, as he was manhandled along by two writhing Shades. His large nose quivered with indignation. ‘You foul things! Release me at once!’

  ‘Our lord requires your presence and you will obey,’ hissed one of the Shades as it pushed and prodded the lawyer.

  ‘Let me go this instant, you miserable dogs! I’ll-I’ll sue you if you don’t release me! And when I’ve finished with you, you’ll be so deep in debt you’ll be denied credit forever! Stop prodding me, you loathsome things, I’m a lawyer! Wherever you’re taking me to … this, this “Bellania” … I will make things very difficult for you if you don’t listen to me!’

  Crow was so furious that he failed to register where he was. After being dragged through doors and whisked along tunnels, it came as a shock when one of the Shades tripped him and he fell, face-first, on to the lush red carpet of Bane’s Throne Room. Raising his head to stare around in wonder, Crow fell silent for the first time that day.

  ‘Oh!’ he finally breathed as he stared at the fearsome, threatening majesty of the Devouring Throne.

  Looking down from his dais, Bane sneered at the cowering lawyer. ‘So the cringing worm once more plays a part in this great act. Crowman, you are in luck. It would appear that you might be of some use to me after all.’ The hooded giant descended the steps from his throne and, reaching down, picked up the whimpering lawyer. ‘You, you miserable, greedy, pulsating piece of flesh, will come with me. It is time to reassess your beliefs, renew your faith and meet Bellania’s one true God.’

  Striding along with Mr Crow tucked under one arm like a rolled-up newspaper, Bane marched the length of his Throne Room and passed under an arched doorway bearing a sign carved into the likeness of two blazing eyes. The lawyer stared miserably up at the carvings and to his horror the eyes hungrily glared right back. Crow flinched away from the terrifying sight.

  Bane stamped his way down a passageway. Deep, deep into the darkness the two of them went, through lightless canyons and along dead riverbeds, past ancient corridors and forgotten paths. Eventually the walkway grew warm, the walls became hot to the touch and the air turned brackish and humid, tasting stale and sulphurous. Bane finally slowed to push through a huge door which again bore the strange carving of two blazing eyes. Once inside he unceremoniously dropped the skinny lawyer to the floor.

  ‘Ouch!’ squawked Crow. Dusting himself down and rubbing at his bruised backside, the lawyer slowly stood and looked around.

  The two of them were on a bridge that dwindled into the distance. Crow could see no end to the bridge or to the room itself. It was an unsettling image, and if he looked too long his stomach began to cramp and squirm. Such a sight was unnatural.

  Crow sidled to the side of the bridge and peered over. Far below he could
see a bubbling, boiling river of molten lava. The incredible heat and sulphurous stench arising from it singed the lawyer’s eyebrows and set his eyes watering. Hastily he scurried back from the bridge’s edge as his body began to shake and shiver. He couldn’t help it – this place was abnormal and alien.

  ‘Come, worm, cease your snivelling,’ said Bane. ‘Time for you to meet Bellania’s true master.’

  As Crow was forced down the never-ending bridge, he was surprised to see a red star in the distance. He was sure it hadn’t been there before. Desperately trying to calm his nerves, he cracked the knuckles on his long skinny fingers. The lawyer was quite certain that he was in this predicament due to some fault of Charlie’s. If he ever got out of this mess that little nuisance of a girl was going to pay, and pay dearly.

  The red star grew in size and luminosity until it was like a small sun. Blazing in eerie glory, it almost covered the bridge, stretching from wall to wall of the chamber. As the ball of light approached, Bane dropped down to one knee and bowed his hooded head.

  ‘My God,’ said Bane, ‘I greet you and pay you worship.’

  With a sudden shock, Crow became aware that the sphere that writhed, spat and pulsed before him was alive. This thing was Bane’s God! The realization sent his brain reeling. Foul red light swamped everything, casting the surroundings in a bloody but surprisingly cold glow. Against all logic, the blazing flames seemed to suck out heat and life, leaving whatever they touched weaker. Mr Crow felt his legs turn to lead and his heart start to beat erratically, first fast, then slow. Sharp pains and cramps gripped at his flesh, making him shake and twitch as a dreadful terror coursed through him.

  Something was beginning to form within the twisting flames. A diamond-shaped head with piercing, glowing eyes slowly appeared, then two impossibly long reptilian hands emerged to grasp and paw at the air. Crow’s eyes rolled in his head as the fear became almost unbearable. The thing’s skin was carbon black. Crisp and burnt like coal. Mr Crow wanted to flee, to run screaming, to pull at his hair and pluck out his eyes – anything to hide from the fearful sight before him – but his body refused to move. Dread bound him to the spot far tighter than any iron chain or steel manacle ever could.