Wyrmspire (Realm Keepers Book 2)

by Garrett Robinson

  “It’s abandoned,” I said.

  Cara nodded. “I don’t know for how long. But no Runegard have inhabited the place during my life. It was abandoned long, long ago, long before Kirsch cut all ties with the kingdom of Athorn.”

  “Why did they do that?” asked Calvin. “I mean, Athorn’s got us—the freaking Realm Keepers. Seems like everyone would want to be friends with them.”

  “Not all kingdoms regard the Realm Keepers with respect,” said Darren with a sigh.

  “Is that why the guy at the gate said ‘Realm Keepers be damned?’” I asked.

  “It is,” Melaine answered. “With all due respect, it’s somewhat of a common saying in the outlying kingdoms that Athorn no longer calls allies. They consider that the Realm Keepers have abandoned them. They think that Athorn keeps you to itself, forgetting about these distant lands that often fall prey to Shadow raids.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said indignantly. “We haven’t abandoned them. We didn’t even know about them.”

  Melaine smiled grimly. “Not all Realm Keepers have been like you, Lady Sarah.”

  “Yeah, some of them have been like Terrence,” said Miles.

  That silenced all of us. We led our horses down another side street, and the Runehold vanished from sight. A short while later, we finally found a tavern. The door hung open flacidly on its hinges, an old, faded painted sign sagging from its mountings on the overhang. But inside there was a fire burning, even though it was only the afternoon, and a few patrons were scattered among the tables, all of them bent over their cups.

  We entered, and an immensely fat innkeeper behind the counter looked up with disinterest. Her eyes took us in, and then she looked back down at the counter under her washcloth. The fat on her arms jiggled back and forth as she wiped the counter down, over and over again.

  I let Cara approach her and take care of the arrangements, not wanting to accidentally speak out of turn and tip somebody off that something was wrong with my speech.

  “Okay, so I’ve got an idea,” said Calvin brightly as soon as Cara had moved away.

  “I’m quivering in anticipation,” I said sarcastically.

  “Really?” said Calvin, missing it. “Okay, here goes. When we find the—” He stopped and looked around nervously. “The dragons,” he continued in a low voice. “When we find them, I figure we should ask them if, you know, the six of us can ride some of them. You know? Like our own personal little dragon mounts. And I’ve been doing extensive research on it. The major thing we need is a saddle. And there’s tons of pictures online back home about how to make a dragon saddle.”

  “How are there pictures?” asked Raven. “They’re not real. At least, not over there.”

  Calvin stared at her with a look of pity. “You really don’t understand my people, do you?” He shook it off and turned back to me. “Anyway, so it’s really easy to make. It’s actually just kind of a modified horse saddle. The problem is the amount of leather you need. But I had an idea. What if we get the leather from an elephant?”

  I blinked. “An elephant.”

  “Yeah!” he said, excited. “They’re the only animal who I think would have enough skin to do it.” He looked around at the five of us, clearly expecting us to erupt into exclamations of how this was the greatest idea in the history of anything ever.

  “Calvin, you’re nuts,” said Blade easily.

  “What? What’s wrong with that idea?” Calvin said, shocked. “Dude, I’m sure elephants aren’t even endangered over here.”

  “Calvin, we aren’t killing elephants to make dragon saddles,” said Miles with finality.

  Calvin’s face took on a look of horror. “Of course not! Jeez. I just thought we could…you know…find some that were already dead.”

  I sighed and shook my head. Fortunately we were rescued as Cara returned to us.

  “It’s done,” she said. “Two rooms upstairs. Each with a door, and another door adjoining the two. They cost a pretty coin, but they’re the best this place has to offer.” She looked at me anxiously. “I am sorry I cannot offer better.”

  I shook my head. “That’s fine. We don’t need anything special. We’ve been sleeping on the ground, remember?”

  The ghost of what might have been a smile flitted across her face, only to disappear just as quickly. “Come, then. Let us rid ourselves of our packs before getting food in our bellies.”

  The Innkeeper summoned a thin whip of a girl to take us upstairs to our rooms. They weren’t huge, but they weren’t tiny, either. There were six beds, arranged in two rows of three on either side of the room, with a small footlocker at the end of each bed. I gratefully dropped my bag on top of the footlocker, not even bothering to open it. It wasn’t like I had much worth stealing, even if I was worried about it. Raven dropped her bag and flung her self face-up on the bed, giving a long sigh as she closed her eyes.

  “Man, I haven’t slept in a bed since…” Her eyes opened again suddenly, and she looked around uncertainly. “I mean, I guess I have, actually. On True Earth. That’s so weird. I guess that my body here on Midrealm is just painfully aware of the fact that it’s been sleeping on grass, dirt and rocks for the last week.”

  I cocked my head. “I know what you mean,” I said carefully. Now that I thought about it, I could feel knots and sore spots in my back from sleeping on the ground. I didn’t really think about them, just as I didn’t think about how comfortable my body was in general when I was back on True Earth. It was a disconcerting feeling. Like I was one person running two bodies in two different places. Which, I guess, is exactly what was really happening.”

  “I don’t mind so much,” said Tess quietly. She looked up at the two of us, smiling as our eyes turned to her. “I kind of liked sleeping outside. It was like camping. I’ve never really been camping.”

  “Well, you can take your camping,” I said with a smile. “I’ll take a bed any day.”

  Melaine snorted restlessly as she sat on the bed beside Raven’s. That was one arrangement we’d had to figure out in advance. I’d been very adamant about the fact that Melaine would not be spending the night in the boys’ room, even though she was bound to protect Miles. While we stayed in taverns, Barius and Melaine had to trade duties overnight. Barius slept with the boys and watched Miles, while Melaine stayed with us girls and watched Raven. Neither of the Runegard had liked it, but then again, in Midrealm they didn’t seem to have the same boundaries we did back on Earth.

  “We should grab a bite to eat,” I said. “It’s been a long day, and we could probably use a hot meal.”

  “You go ahead,” Raven said, rolling her shoulders as she lay comfortably in the bed. “I’m just going to lay here and enjoy the feeling of this mattress forever.”

  Melaine looked at her in despair.

  I chuckled. “Suit yourself. Coming, Tess?”

  Tess looked up at me from behind her hair and smiled slightly. “Sure.”

  We made our way into the hallway, where we found Blade, Calvin and Miles already making their way toward the stairs down to the common room. We went down together, finding a large table off to the side of the room and plopping ourselves down in the chairs that surrounded it. One extensive order to the innkeeper and ten minutes later, we had a sturdy dinner of stew and bread laid out before us. It wasn’t amazing, but there was salt and pepper, which were rare in Midrealm, and the food was hot.

  “Oh my God,” Blade said, closing his eyes in rapture as he took his first bite. He took a hearty swig from the flagon of ale he’d ordered despite my objections. “This food tastes so good right now.”

  Darren and Samuel raised their own flagons, and together the three of them clinked cups. Calvin looked on disappointedly.

  “It’s because it’s hot,” I said, not even caring that I was talking around a mouthful of bread. “Our bodies here haven’t had a real meal in days.” I shoveled another spoonful of stew into my mouth, making sure that I snagged a large chunk of beef along w
ith it. I couldn’t argue with Blade; I couldn’t remember any food tasting so good in my life before.

  “Hey, Sammy boy,” said Blade, turning to Samuel. “Feel like a game of cards after this? We’ve still got a couple of hours to kill before we should really be going to bed.”

  “I’d suggest you keep your voice down, my Lord,” said Samuel, looking around the room coolly. We’d all been keeping ourselves quiet, but Blade’s voice had gotten a bit loud. “Someone might overhear you. But yes, I’d enjoy a game of cards. As long as you stop calling me that.”

  Blade guffawed, a few flecks of stew spewing from his mouth to land on the tabletop. He wrapped an arm around Samuel’s neck and pulled him close. “Ah, Sam. You’re so cute when you’re miffed.” Samuel’s face remained firm.

  “Can I join in?” asked Calvin. His face had an adorable, delicate mix of emotions, like he hoped Blade would say yes but was certain he wouldn’t.

  But Blade smiled at him. “Why, sure,” he said. “I bet you’ve never even learned how to play a real card game before, have you?”

  Calvin’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head.

  Blade chuckled. “Well, I’ll teach you some seven card stud, and then you can go play it with all your little nerd friends instead of Dungeons and Dragons. You’ll clean them all out of their allowance, I promise you.”

  “Count me out,” I said, standing from the table. “I think I’ll take a walk instead.”

  “Be careful,” said Tess quietly, looking up at me with concern.

  Cara rose silently to come with me. Together we slipped out of the front door of the inn just as Blade started to deal the cards behind us.

  After a few minutes, I began to think I might have made a mistake. Kirsch wasn’t exactly the most charming place we’d ever been. Walking through its streets, feeling caked mud building up on my boots and seeing the squalor all around, I started to feel put out. It was as though the dark mood of oppression that seemed to soak over the town was seeping in through my pores.

  Then I had an idea. “Cara,” I said, turning to her. “Let’s go look at the Runehold.”

  Cara looked at me uncomfortably. “I am not sure that is wise, my Lady,” she said. “It is long abandoned, and may be run down.”

  “I just want to check it out,” I said. “There was a hole in the wall—we don’t need to go any further than the outer courtyard.”

  Cara shrugged, still clearly uneasy. “As my Lady wishes.”

  So we wound through the streets until we came upon the thoroughfare that ran right into the Runehold’s outer wall. The amount of people on the streets diminished the closer we got, until by the time we reached the wall there was nobody in sight. It gave the place an ominous silence. Suddenly the circular tower above us seemed vaguely threatening.

  “Come on,” I said out loud, trying to reassure myself. “Just a few minutes, and then we’ll go.”

  Not waiting for an answer, I ducked in through the wall’s gaping hole, which was just about a foot shorter than I was. Cara stood a head taller than I did, so she had to stoop to fit herself inside.

  The outer courtyard of the castle, which I had learned was called a bailey, was surprisingly cheery compared to the town outside. Green, patchy grass clung viciously to life in the cracks between the stones, and I saw fewer burn marks than there were on the tower and the outer wall. But it had clearly been a long time since anyone had frequented the place. There were collapsed wheels and axles that had probably been carts long ago—the cart’s bodies had probably been chopped up for firewood. Every piece of metal I saw was rusted nearly through. Anything bright would have been stolen centuries ago by blacksmiths.

  The front door to the place was shaped very much like the front door to the Runehold back home in Morrowdust, and it was sagging upon a single hinge. There was a wide, three-foot gap.

  “It’s open!” I said. For some reason I found myself getting excited. “Let’s just poke our heads in. See if it’s safe inside.”

  “My Lady…” said Cara.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, smiling over at her. “When was the last time we had a chance to really explore something?”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “I have never been one for exploring.”

  “Your loss,” I said, my smile growing into a grin. “Race you there.”

  I ran across the courtyard. Cara followed at a stately walk. I leapt in through the gap in the door and stared around at the Runehold’s great hall.

  This Runehold was more modest than the one back home in every way, and the great hall was no exception. Where our home had sweeping ceilings that were nearly lost in the shadows, this place stretched up for a mere twenty feet. The room only had four doors compared to the six in Morrowdust. I saw one door at the other end of the room that probably led to the Realm Keepers’ quarters, two side doors that probably led to the Runegard’s wing and the training rooms, and then of course the door through which I’d entered.

  Nothing remained of the table in the center of the room save a few discarded iron bands, orange with rust. The chairs, too were missing. All but one.

  In the great hall of Morrowdust, there was a great golden chair. It sat at the head of the table, opposite the entry door. In all the time I’d been there, I’d never seen someone sit in the golden chair.

  Here, too, there was a golden chair, identical to the one in Morrowdust. Once, we’d been to the Runehold in Linsfell. They, too, had a golden chair, identical in every respect. But in Linsfell, there had been a force of Runegard there to guard the castle. Here, the chair looked wildly out of place. Why wouldn’t looters have stolen the thing, or at least hacked off chunks of it to sell? It was gold.

  I turned. Cara stood just inside the entry door, throwing an occasional glance outside to make sure no one was approaching.

  “Cara, you’ve never told me who the golden chair was for.”

  She shrugged. “Truth be told, my Lady, I do not know.”

  I cocked my head and gave her a hard look.

  She held up her hands defensively. “I speak the truth. I do not know. Even Greystone has lost the knowledge of them. I have asked him many times. You know the Watcher. If he knows the answer but does not wish to speak it, he will hedge. He will speak other words intended to distract, or he will spit bitter criticisms until you have forgotten your question. But when I asked him of the golden chair, he simply said, firmly and repeatedly, “I do not know. The knowledge of them has passed from all of Midrealm. There they sit, unable to be moved, until their reason is found once again.”

  “Unable to be moved?”

  She smiled. “You have never tried, have you?”

  “Well, no,” I said uncertainly. “But I guess you’d just…”

  I looked at the chair anew, feeling uncertainty grow inside me. Cautiously, I walked over to it. I looked at Cara as if for permission. She inclined her head.

  I reached out and gripped the chair’s arm. The gold was surprisingly warm under my hand. I looked it over. It was big, but not that big. I wrapped both hands around the arm and gave it a hard pull.

  Nothing happened. The chair didn’t move.

  My brow furrowed. I set my feet against the stone and tried pushing instead. I might as well have been pushing the Runehold’s wall for all the good it did. The chair didn’t so much as shake.

  I gave a snort and pulled a knife from my belt, the one I used for eating. I tried digging the tip into the soft gold, but it was as hard as steel. I couldn’t even make a mark, not so much as a scratch.

  “That’s nothing,” said Cara, clearly enjoying my frustration. “Try hitting it with your sword.”

  “What’s it going to do, fry me?” The unrestrained annoyance I could hear in my own voice only annoyed me more.

  “Amusing as that might be to watch, it would be a rather severe violation of my oaths to encourage it,” said Cara with a smile. “Do it.”

  Sighing, I drew my sword. I lined up a cut that should have taken off a good ch
unk from the front of one of the chair’s arms. I lifted the sword high, and I swung.

  The instant my steel met the chair, a great roar shattered the air around me, threatening to burst my eardrums. I nearly leapt out of my skin, collapsing to the ground and cowering in terror. It was the roar of a great beast, of a bird of prey, and of a marauding army all at once. It was massive, powerful and terrifying. It was a beast that wanted to devour me, a demon from hell come to claim my soul, a beast of Chaos that wanted to destroy the world.

  I cowered on the floor until the final echoes of the roar died away in my ears. I looked up fearfully. The chair’s arm wasn’t so much as chipped. I looked over at Cara who, to my annoyance, was looking at me with amusement.

  “What the heck was that?” I nearly screamed.

  “No one knows,” she said.

  “I feel bad,” I said, reason asserting itself as the panicked rate of my heart began to slow. “I must have put half the city on high alert.”

  “No one heard it but you,” she said, so certain that I knew she was speaking from personal experience. “I did not hear a thing. Only those who try to move or destroy the chair hear the spirit creature that guards it.”

  “Spirit creature?” I asked in confusion. “That’s, like, a Native American thing.”

  Cara blinked. “A what?”

  “Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. I got up off my knees and stared at the chair in distrust. “Well, I guess that explains why looters haven’t stolen it.

  “Indeed,” said Cara. “That is the reason so few Runeholds have ever truly been destroyed. Men fear the spirit creature. They will raid for wood, for iron and for gold. But once they get a taste of the chair’s protection, they are loathe to harm the building. Many of them fear that by bringing down the building around the chair, they will anger the creature and invite its wrath.”

  She took a few steps into the room, walking to one of the side walls. I noticed the corner of a scrap of cloth on the floor, poking out from a mass of tangled, rusted metal. Cara seized the metal with her mailed hands and hauled it off, then lifted the cloth.