Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  Until Marcus mentioned it, Kyja hadn’t realized that she was stiff as well. Her rear felt like she’d been . . . like she’d been sitting on a hard snail shell for hours.

  Marcus yawned again. “What I don’t understand is how there can be a drought in Terra ne Staric while it’s blizzarding here.”

  “Something’s gone completely wrong with the weather,” Kyja agreed.

  Riph Raph blew out a line of blue flames, trying to warm his feet. “Something’s going to go wrong with me if I don’t get out of this cold. Skytes are not made for snow. I’m going to find someplace warm.” He flew off into the snow-filled sky, pom-pom bouncing back and forth on either side of his head.

  After exploring for several minutes, Kyja and Marcus reached the edge of the city, where a winding wooden staircase zigzagged up the side of a stone wall.

  “Whoa!” Marcus said, looking up. “It’s huge!”

  Kyja craned her neck to see the top, but the staircase was lost in the swirling white flakes. The biggest city wall she’d ever seen was in Terra ne Staric, but this was at least three times taller. And while Terra ne Staric’s walls were mostly made of wood, this was built from squares of stone so large she couldn’t imagine where they’d all been found.

  “Shouldn’t the two of ye be getting indoors?” asked a mountain of a man with a beard that hid everything but his bright eyes and white teeth. He was so covered in furs that he looked almost like a bear, but a well-armed one, with swords on both hips and a round shield strapped to his back.

  “We were just admiring your wall,” Kyja said.

  “Mined straight from the Altarian Mountains. Even the most powerful of magic cannot so much as put a scratch in them.” The man had an odd accent Kyja wasn’t familiar with. He eyed the two of them. “Ye be not from around here. Were ye hoping to scry the view?”

  “Scry?” Kyja frowned. She’d heard the word before but usually it meant looking into a crystal ball or some other magical item.

  “Aye.” The man scratched at his beard. “It’s terrible weather for looking about. But then again, when every day brings another storm, ye begin to think mayhap it not be so bad after all. Perhaps this is fair weather.”

  He laughed uproariously at his own joke and looked a little disappointed when neither Marcus nor Kyja laughed along with him. “If it’s scrying ye want, it be best to get up the wall now, ’fore the sun goes down.”

  Marcus studied the icy staircase going up the side of the wall and shook his head. “I can’t make it up that. Too bad you don’t have elevators here.”

  Now it was the man’s turn to frown. “Never have I heard of an eely-vaytor. But fear not, young master. Scry ye will.” He took Kyja’s hand and led her to the first stair, then helped Marcus up. As soon as they were all on the staircase, the steps began to move, rising slowly up the wall.

  Kyja laughed with delight. “It’s like those moving things you have on Earth.”

  “Escalators,” Marcus agreed. “Never thought I’d see one on Farworld, though.”

  The man seemed to enjoy their delight. “’Tis far too difficult to get a man in full armor to the top of the wall otherwise. In case of attack.” He held out his hand. “Freeman Arstel.”

  Marcus and Kyja each shook his hand. His fingers were thick and calloused.

  “Do you get attacked much?” Marcus asked.

  “Does a friddersnap sheer ferns?” The man chuckled.

  Kyja assumed that meant yes.

  “Ye be on the edge of the civilized world,” the man said. “Beyond this fortress roam creatures both wee and great. Some be tame. But most be fearsome wicked.” He scratched his beard. “’Course, some of them be more fierce in men’s stories than in real life. Why, just the day ’fore last, a group of soldiers returned from patrol, telling of a beast so fearful even I couldn’t stomach it.”

  Marcus and Kyja clung to the wooden rail that moved along with the stairs. The higher they climbed, the harder the wind blew, and the stairs wobbled and creaked. “Is that what you are? A soldier?” she asked.

  The man roared with laughter. “Girly,” he said, patting his long sword. “In Icehold, everyone be a soldier. Even ones as wee as ye and yer friend here.”

  “What kind of creature?” Marcus asked.

  “Eh?”

  “What kind of creature did the soldiers say they saw?”

  “What kind of creature, indeed.” The man held out his arms and bared his teeth. “They say it was a beast red as blood, with wings long as an inn and teeth as large as a man. Tall as a dozen houses. Spouting all manner of fire and magic.”

  Marcus’s face went white, and Kyja felt her stomach roll over. “Did they say anything about an army of walking dead?”

  The man laughed. “Ye have heard the story already. Why didn’t ye be saying so?”

  A Summoner and its army of Fallen Ones. Kyja and Marcus had seen a Summoner before. It had nearly killed Master Therapass and would have killed them if it hadn’t been for the help of the water elementals. But what was it doing all the way out here?

  The Dark Circle, Marcus mouthed silently. Kyja nodded. It was the only thing that made sense. The Dark Circle knew they were looking for the air and fire elementals. It must be hunting them as well.

  At last, the stairs came to a shuddering halt. “Here ye be,” the man said. “Look ye upon the edge of the world.”

  Kyja stepped onto the top of the wall and gasped. It was . . . incredible. The air was so clear that even with the icy wind and falling snow, it seemed like she could see forever. To the right was a forest of trees so big they made the Westland Woods look like saplings. They were probably at least a day’s walk away from the forest, but even from this distance, she thought the trunks had to be as wide as ten men standing hand to hand.

  “The Forest of Before Time,” the man said. “’Tis rumored those trees were full grown long ’afore man set foot on this land.”

  To the left, the mountains rose straight out of the ground, soaring so high they made her dizzy. Snow covered their sides, even though it was still summer, and mist cloaked their peaks.

  “Are those the Altarian Mountains?” Marcus asked.

  “Aye. ’Tis whispered that fanciful creatures with a devilish sense of humor live in the clouds,” the man said. “Don’t see how anyone can be knowing that, though, as no one’s ever climbed to the top.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Kyja said.

  “Aye, but ye haven’t seen it all.” The man placed his palm on a small stone pillar, and Marcus sucked in his breath.

  “How did you do that?” Marcus asked. “It’s like I can see every detail, down to the smallest blade of grass.”

  “Water magic,” the man said. “Lets us see the badduns afore they can see us, if you catch my meaning.”

  Magic again. Kyja looked down and scuffed her slippers across the stone surface of the wall. She should have expected it.

  Marcus glanced over at her, his eyes glowing. “Isn’t it—” He stopped. “You can’t see it, can you?”

  She shook her head, trying not to let her disappointment show.

  “What’s this?” Beneath his beard, the man’s lips drew down. “How can ye no see it?”

  “She’s immune to magic,” Marcus said. “It doesn’t work on her.”

  The man looked at Kyja like he’d discovered she was about to die. “Ye can do no magic at all? Not even a wee little thing like scrying??”

  Kyja shook her head again. What she could make out was a beautiful view anyway, and she was glad she’d come up to see it. But the night had lost something, and she was ready to get warm.

  “Let’s go,” Marcus said, taking her hand.

  “Aye.” The man reached toward the pillar to undo the water magic, but Marcus stopped him.

  “Wait,” he said, pointing. “What’s that? Right by the spot where the trees are smaller than the rest. There’s a bunch of rocks—like there used to be some kind of buildings.”

  The man
’s face darkened. His eyes studied the deepening twilight. “’Tis all that remains of one of the greatest cities ever built. A fortress stronger even than Icehold.”

  “What happened to it?” Marcus asked.

  “I’ll nay speak of Windshold,” the man said. Whatever friendliness he’d shown before was gone. He turned to the stairs. “’Tis late. Ye wee ones should be indoors.”

  Kyja saw Marcus’s face go white at the name of the city. “Windshold? Isn’t that . . . ?”

  Marcus swallowed and nodded. “It’s where . . . I was born.”

  The soldier who had been walking toward the stairs spun around—his face red. “Nay! Ye be mistaken.”

  “I’m not mistaken,” Marcus said, so softly his voice could barely be heard above the wind. “I was born in Windshold. But I was too little too remember.”

  “I tell ye, that no be possible,” the man growled. His huge hands were closed into fists, and Kyja realized the man was shaking with anger. “Just over fifteen seasons ago, that great city was destroyed by a horde of creatures so foul they overwhelmed the city in minutes. We heard the alarm and tried to come to their aid. But by the time we reached them, every man, woman and wee babe was dead.”

  Tears dripped down the big man’s face, freezing to his ruddy cheeks. He reached inside his coat, tore out a bronze medallion, and shoved it in Marcus’s face. “See this?” he shouted. “’Tis the flying weasel! My brother, Gralik, considered it his good-luck charm. It wasn’t lucky for him. I pulled it off his dead body.”

  He swiped at his eyes and shoved the medallion back into his shirt. “Now ya understand why I say ye can no be from Windshold.”

  Chapter 18

  Fire and Ice

  Marcus knocked softly on Kyja’s door. “Are you awake?” He waited for a moment before deciding she must be asleep. As he was turning away, a soft voice said, “Come in.”

  He opened the door and found Kyja lying on her bed, one arm thrown over her eyes. She was still completely dressed. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Me neither.”

  Riph Raph had no such problem. The skyte was snoring like a diesel engine, muttering something about tasty beetles in his sleep.

  “I’m sorry about what that man told you,” Kyja said. “About your city.”

  Marcus sat on a stool by the small fireplace, the flames warming his back. “It’s not anything I didn’t know. Only . . . remember when you came to Earth for the first time and wanted to look for your parents?”

  “In Salt Pond.”

  “Salt Lake.” Marcus laughed. “That’s how I feel now. My parents could be nearby. Only . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. If Windshold was completely destroyed, his family must be dead.

  “We don’t know that your parents were in the city when it happened,” Kyja said. “Not for sure.”

  “Maybe.”

  Master Therapass had said one of his parents was from the realm of shadows. Marcus didn’t know what to think, except that maybe it meant one of his parents could still be alive. “About the scrying,” he said. “If that’s what’s bothering you, don’t worry. The view wasn’t that impressive anyway. Next time we go to Earth, I’ll show you something called a telescope. It blows scrying away.”

  Kyja sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just . . .” she shook her head and pushed herself to a half-sitting position, resting on her elbows. “While I was waiting for you to come back from Earth, I imagined things differently.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I hoped if I could figure out where the air elementals were then you’d come back, and we’d set off for Air Keep—maybe with Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc. It would be like when we went looking for Water Keep.”

  “You mean when I almost got us killed by the Mimicker, and we nearly died in the desert, and you were frozen in a block of ice, and—”

  “All right, all right.” Kyja giggled. “So maybe it wasn’t perfect. But we were working together. Figuring things out.”

  “Is this about what I said before?” Marcus asked, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. “About being apart from you?”

  “A little,” Kyja said, sitting all the way up. “It bothers me that you don’t trust me enough to tell me whatever you’re hiding.”

  Marcus gritted his teeth, torn between desperately wanting to tell Kyja the truth and being terrified of what she’d think if he did. He ran his fingers through the top of his hair, which had gotten way too long. “I do trust you,” he said. “More than anyone I know.”

  “I wouldn’t keep a secret from you,” Kyja said. “But it’s more than your secret. Did you know Master Therapass has been communicating with people on Earth?”

  “Not until yesterday.”

  “I didn’t either,” Kyja said. “Because he didn’t tell us. I think there’s a lot more he hasn’t told us—like how I’m supposed to save Earth, what’s supposed to happen once we open the drift, what he knows about the shadow realm that makes it so dangerous.”

  “What are you saying? You don’t trust him?”

  Kyja shook her head so violently her hair flew back and forth. “I’m saying he doesn’t trust us. No one seems to trust anyone. The water elementals don’t trust the land elementals. The land elementals don’t trust the air elementals. And what about Mr. Z? Why does he always talk in riddles? Why send him to us at all? If the air elementals wanted to talk to us, why didn’t they come themselves?” Outside the window, the wind blew, and snowflakes danced like someone peeking into the room.

  Kyja pulled a blanket around her shoulders. “The Dark Circle is more powerful than we are. They have bigger armies and stronger magic. They always seem to know where we are—they found us here and on Earth—while we have no idea what they’re doing.”

  Marcus wanted to disagree, but she was right.

  Kyja pounded a fist on her pillow, and Riph Raph grunted in his sleep. “How can we beat them if we don’t work together?”

  And there it was. She was speaking the truth. She wouldn’t keep a secret from him. If he told her what he’d seen in the Will Be, she might run away from him in terror. He guessed he could live with that, somehow, some way, knowing he deserved it. But what if telling someone locked the future in place? By keeping it a secret, there was a chance it would never happen. The minute he told someone, though . . .

  He closed his eyes. “If you want me to tell you, I will.”

  Kyja gave him a small smile. “Not until you’re ready. I have to trust you too. To tell me. When the time is right.”

  “Okay,” Marcus said. “That seems fair. I hadn’t thought about Mr. Z, though. Why did the air elementals send him?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” Kyja turned to hang her legs off the side of the bed. “From what I’ve been able to learn, air elementals are curious and capricious.” The wind swirled outside again.

  “What does capricious mean?” Marcus asked. “It sounds like a word Mr. Z would use.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kyja said. “I had to look it up too. It means they’re unpredictable. They have lots of mood swings.”

  “Sounds like Riph Raph,” Marcus joked.

  The skyte stopped snoring long enough to crack one eye open. “Don’t think I didn’t hear that.”

  Kyja laughed. “Anyway, I was thinking—what if they’re testing us?”

  “Trying to see what we’ll do if Mr. Z keeps messing with us?”

  “Something like that,” Kyja said.

  Marcus nodded. He could see that. “Do we let him know we’re onto them?”

  “I don’t think so. We should watch him closely though, to see if we can figure out what exactly he’s up to.”

  Outside, a bell began to clang. A moment later, a second one joined it.

  Marcus went to the window, where he saw a bright glow in the distance. “I think something’s burning.”

  Kyja jumped off the bed to look. At the same time, an explosion outside rattled
the window, making the night even brighter.

  Riph Raph woke up and blinked owlishly. “I smell smoke.”

  “Come on,” Kyja said, “Let’s see what’s happening.”

  She ran to the door of the inn. Marcus hurried after her as quickly as he could. Outside, people were running and shouting. All of them seemed to be carrying weapons of one kind or another. Two boys raced by armed with bows and arrows, and a giant of a man loped down the street swinging a heavy mace in each hand.

  The air was filled with a dark, gritty smoke, and ashes covered the snowy ground. New fires seemed to be igniting everywhere she looked. Bells continued to clang in the night. Marcus heard the crashes and screams of battle, but he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. Should he and Kyja go back inside? He looked for Mr. Z, but the little man was nowhere to be found.

  “What’s going on?” Kyja asked, grabbing a woman by the sleeve of her coat.

  “Attack!” the woman yelled before running down the street, a spear clutched in one gloved hand and a round wooden shield in the other.

  Just behind them, the ground exploded, and Marcus spun around to see a cloud of dirt and ice billowing. A figure shuffled out of the snow. Marcus froze, shocked by the sudden appearance of the bony creature clad in bits of hanging flesh and torn clothing.

  The Fallen Ones. If they were here, that meant a Summoner was here too.

  The skeleton lunged toward Marcus and Kyja, a silver-handled short sword clutched in its bony fingers. Riph Raph dropped out of the sky, firing one blue fireball after another. The flames climbed the skeleton’s ragged clothes, making it drop the sword. Kyja darted forward and grabbed it.

  Marcus had forgotten how good Kyja was with a sword. She swung the blade with a quick, practiced swing, and the creature’s burning arm dropped to the ground with a hiss. She spun around, reversing her swing, and its head went flying off as well.

  “Behind you!” Riph Raph shouted. He blew a pair of bright blue fireballs at another undead figure lurching around the corner. The creature stumbled to one side of the road, its clothing and bones on fire. Three more were right behind. Two held swords, and another clutched a spiked mace in its bony fingers.