Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  “I don’t know.” The water elementals had looked more or less like people, except that they were blue. But the land elementals had been bizarre combinations of animals he never would have expected. “Something beautiful. And majestic.”

  As Marcus and Kyja emerged from the fog floating over the last bridge and the full castle came into view, they both stopped, filled with wonder.

  Even the grounds were incredible. Streams flowed along the transparent castle walls, dropping to the gardens below. But the waterfalls never hit the ground. Instead, the moisture turned into mists of pink, turquoise, gold, and every other color of the rainbow, beading on bushes shaped like dragons, unicorns, gnomes, and hundreds of other fanciful creations. Roses, vines, clovers, and grasses in colors Marcus could barely take in flourished beneath the great building’s architecture.

  “What’s with the flowers?” Riph Raph asked. And for the first time, Marcus noticed daisies, tulips, and many flowers he didn’t recognize, walking through the gardens on tiny green root-legs, digging and pruning.

  Kyja clapped her hands and laughed. “Haven’t you ever seen a flower garden? ”

  The blossoms, still spinning and twirling, blew along a perfectly manicured path of polished stone and over a drawbridge. As they followed, Marcus and Kyja looked down, through the glass bridge, to colored domes bobbing along a pink river. “Is that ice cream?” Marcus murmured. “Ice cream floats?” Air Keep was so perfect he thought he could stay here forever.

  “I can see why no one has ever been allowed to find this place,” Kyja said, as they crossed an immaculate lobby. The huge glass hallway was filled with sculptures made of tiny bits of colored glass and rock that flowed and turned in a constant stream of motion on unseen currents of air. “If they did, they’d never want to leave.”

  The flower petals danced ahead of them up a sweeping staircase. Marcus started to follow before realizing that nothing supported the steps. Each thin glass platform hung in midair.

  “I think it’s okay,” Kyja said, taking his arm. “If they can make islands float, stairs should be easy.” Together, the two of them climbed step after floating step.

  Marcus craned his neck and was amazed to see that the rooms, walls, and passages overhead overlapped to create breathtaking geometric patterns. He couldn’t fathom how such a thing was possible.

  How could anyone have made all this? Why create such an elaborate home if no one but the Aerisians would see it? What kind of creatures combined the elegance and grace to create a castle so glorious and intricate, with the odd sense of humor to surround it with killer puns, flowers that cared for their gardens, and ice-cream float moats?

  “Do you think they’ll help us?” he asked Kyja. “I mean, if you had all of this, would you even care what the Dark Circle was doing? Would you leave this castle to help create a drift?”

  Kyja squeezed his arm. “We have to convince them. It’s not just humans that are in danger. It’s all of Farworld—including the Aerisians.” She glanced down at their ragged clothes again. “I just wish Mr. Z would have warned us so we could have brought something more appropriate to wear.”

  At the top of the staircase, a long hallway, with walls constructed completely out of precious gems, led to a pair of tall silver doors. The blossoms paused before the doors, swirled into the air, and then disappeared in all directions.

  The three of them stopped at the end of the hall, and a sudden feeling of doubt filled Marcus’s chest. What if the air elementals turned them down? Or worse, laughed at them? What if Mr. Z had been playing a trick all along, knowing the Aerisians’ help was out of reach?

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “So, I guess we just knock?”

  Kyja brushed her hands across the front of her robe, trying to remove a few of the wrinkles. “I think so.”

  Marcus took a deep breath, approached the doors, and rapped three quick times.

  From all around came the sounds of tiny bells chiming together. The floors and walls began to glow, and the air itself sparkled with energy. Part of Marcus was thrilled that he and Kyja were actually in Air Keep. But another part of him wanted to run screaming before they were forced to reveal themselves like ragged beggars at the feet of a powerful monarch.

  When he glanced at Kyja, she looked just as terrified. Riph Raph licked his scales and brushed at his beak with his wings.

  As seconds passed and no one answered the door, Marcus began to fidget. “Maybe we should come back another time. Maybe they’re busy.”

  But it was too late. The tall silver doors swung open, revealing a long, golden carpet. At the other end of the room, the carpet led to a raised pedestal with a high-backed throne, which faced away from the doors. Although the throne was made of glass too, it was frosted so Marcus couldn’t see who sat there.

  Clasping hands, Marcus and Kyja stepped onto the carpet and walked toward the throne.

  “Where is everyone?” Marcus whispered. Except for the throne, the room was completely empty. “Shouldn’t there at least be guards or something?”

  “Maybe they don’t need guards here,” Kyja whispered back. “We might be the first visitors . . . ever.”

  The thought made Marcus a little dizzy. Would they really be the first humans ever to see an Aerisian? It was like discovering an ancient city or a fantastic painting. He blew into his palm and sniffed, hoping his breath wasn’t too bad.

  At the end of the carpet, Kyja stopped and knelt. Favoring his bad leg, which was back to aching, Marcus lowered himself to the carpet beside her. It was thick and soft, yet the fibers glittered like real gold.

  When they were both kneeling, the bells stopped chiming. Silently, the pedestal began to turn. Marcus leaned to his right, trying to catch a glimpse of the air elemental seated on the throne. As the side of it came into view, he blinked. There was no one there. The great chair was empty.

  He was about to ask Kyja if this was some kind of joke. Or maybe the air elementals were invisible. Right then the throne finished turning, and he realized that there was someone—or at least something—there.

  Seated in the center of the great glass throne was a creature not much bigger than a rabbit. It was white and furry like a rabbit too. But it had no face or ears; it was just a fuzzy white ball of fur with a golden crown on top. As the pedestal came to a halt, a pair of milky white eyes opened, and two long, pink feelers rose up through the crown.

  “An ishkabiddle?” Riph Raph barked. “The air elementals are ishkabiddles?”

  Chapter 23

  All Hail the Fuzz Ball

  What’s an ishkabiddle?” Marcus asked under his breath.

  Still kneeling, Kyja didn’t know how to respond. Of course she knew what an ishkabiddle was. The furry white creatures could be found hiding in their burrows or nibbling clover nearly everywhere on Farworld. They were almost as common as cats and dogs on Earth. Some of her friends even had them as pets. But how could the air elementals be ishkabiddles?

  Behind the throne, two small doors she hadn’t noticed before swung open, and more ishkabiddles entered the room on their fuzzy little legs. Some of them wore long flowing cloaks of silver, red, gold, and dark blue. A few of them had glittering jewels clipped to their fur. At the end of the group, came ishkabiddle soldiers with golden armor covering their bodies and tiny swords strapped over their furry backs.

  The soldiers stopped at either side of the throne, their white eyes blinking suspiciously. The rest of the ishkabiddles spread out along the carpet.

  “Those fuzz balls are not air elementals,” Riph Raph said. His voice echoed throughout the throne room.

  Kyja frowned at him. “Hush,” she whispered. Then, turning to the ishkabiddle on the throne, she cleared her throat. “Thank you for seeing us, Your Majesty.”

  The ishkabiddle in the crown stared back at her, and Kyja felt her throat begin to tighten. What if they’d already offended the Aerisians because of their surprise?

  “We, uh, came here to ask for your hel
p,” Marcus began uncertainly. “Mr. Z sent us. Do you know Mr. Z?”

  Several of the ishkabiddles who were lined up along the carpet shuffled about, and Kyja was pretty sure she saw the king (or was it the queen?) nod. Taking that for a yes, Kyja continued. “My name is Marcus and this is Kyja. Um, sorry.” She tugged at her tattered robe. “I mean, my name is Kyja, and this is Marcus. We need your help to open a drift between here and Earth before the Dark Circle destroys Farworld.”

  The bells tinkled softly, and a flock of tiny, colorful birds flew through an open window and perched on the sill.

  “Was that supposed to be an answer?” Marcus hissed at Kyja.

  “How am I supposed to know?” she hissed back. She bowed as much as she could while still on her knees. “The water elementals and land elementals have sent us help. Now we only need you and the fire elementals.”

  Bells chimed again, and a gust of wind blew through the window, scattering leaves and flower petals across the floor.

  “Do you think that was a yes?” Marcus asked.

  Kyja could feel herself beginning to lose her temper and tried to control it. “Maybe?” It would have been nice if Mr. Z had mentioned that Aerisians didn’t use words to communicate.

  Riph Raph flapped his wings. “Maybe I can help.” He turned to the air elemental on the throne. “Ding dong, ding ding. Ring-a-ling ting-ting.”

  “What are you doing?” Marcus whispered.

  The skyte rolled his eyes. “Speaking Bell. What did you think?”

  “Stop it!” Kyja said, speaking louder than she meant to. She turned to Marcus. “Show them your arm.”

  Marcus reached for his shirt, then hesitated. Kyja knew he was uncomfortable showing his scar. But it was the only sure proof they had that he was the child prophesied to save Farworld. She nodded, urging him on.

  Slowly, he pulled up his right sleeve, revealing the hardened scar tissue on his shoulder. Kyja had seen the scar several times, but it still fascinated her. On it, two creatures were locked in battle. The first, she was almost sure, was a Summoner with a snake-like body, long teeth, and huge wings.

  The Summoner had its talons closed on a creature she’d never seen or even heard of. It had the head of a boar, the tail of a fish, and a bird-like body with long, feathered wings. The bird-boar-fish’s head had two horns sprouting from it, and a pair of human arms held a flaming sword high in the air. The creature’s tusks were closed on the Summoner’s body. Not for the first time, she wondered what kind of creature was powerful enough to fight a Summoner one-on-one.

  “I’ve had this as long as I can remember,” Marcus said. “It proves that I’m . . . I’m, you know, the child from the prophecy.”

  Kyja couldn’t understand why he was so uncomfortable admitting who he was. If she were the person foretold to save Farworld, she’d shout it from the rooftops. She turned to the Aerisians, waiting for a response. But other than a soft chiming of bells, there was no reply.

  “Will you help us?” she asked. “You must be able to talk at least a little.”

  On the window, birds fluttered and chirped, sounding almost like they were laughing, which made Kyja even more frustrated.

  “Don’t upset them,” Marcus said, pulling down his sleeve. “We need their help.”

  Kyja knew he was right, but she was getting so angry at the little white eyes watching her, with no visible response. She had a sudden urge to pick one of them up and fling it across the room—its tiny red cape fluttering behind it like one of the superheroes she’d heard about in Marcus’s world. What would the ishkabiddles do? Stab her ankles with their tiny swords?

  She clenched her teeth, trying to control her temper. “If you don’t speak our language, could you please bring someone here to translate?”

  Another gust of wind sent the leaves and flower blossoms spinning into the air, and a handful of butterflies flew into the room.

  Kyja wanted to shoo the birds away, slam the windows shut, and demand an answer from the fur ball on the throne. “Well?” she asked. “Is one of you going to say something?”

  One of the soldier ishkabiddles sent a gray cloud of dust up from its feelers and the birds chirped louder, sounding even more like laughter.

  Riph Raph flapped onto Kyja’s shoulder and whispered, “I’m not sure if you noticed, but this doesn’t seem to be going very well.”

  “You think you can do better?” Kyja snapped, her face getting hot.

  The skyte flapped his ears.

  Marcus tried talking to the ishkabiddles again. “Why don’t we leave for a while, and you can discuss this among yourselves?”

  The Aerisian on the throne wiggled a little and blinked again.

  Kyja had had enough. “No! We left a city under attack to find you. We fought flying fruit, giant teeth, bears, bats, and saws, and a bunch of other things. We nearly got burned on your stupid bridge. We’ve spent I don’t know how many days, riding a giant snail from one side of Farworld to the other. We came here for an answer, and we’re going to get it now !”

  The chiming of the bells grew louder, and the wind picked up, lifting petals, leaves, twigs, and butterflies in a whirling vortex.

  Marcus grabbed Kyja’s sleeve. “You’re making them mad. We need to get out of here while we still can.”

  “I agree with the turnip head on this,” Riph Raph said, his head darting left and right. “We’ve got to go. Now.”

  But Kyja wasn’t done. She jumped to her feet. “Do you hear me? Do you?” She stomped toward the throne, Marcus’s broken staff still clutched in one hand. She was determined to get an answer one way or another. And if it meant knocking the arrogant little ball of fur out of its precious throne, she would do just that.

  Riph Raph flapped his wings, tugging on the back of her hair. “This is a really bad idea!”

  “Wait!” Marcus scrambled to his feet, but Kyja was beyond caring. It was one thing to solve riddles, and to play games. Maybe those things kept casual intruders away. But to stay locked in a glass castle, ignoring the outside world, and then to act like Marcus and Kyja—who were sacrificing everything to save their worlds—weren’t good enough to deserve an answer? That was too much.

  Two soldier ishkabiddles hopped in her way, but Kyja kicked them with the side of her slipper, sending them rolling across the floor with squeaks of surprise and anger. High on its pedestal, the king of the air elementals cowered against the back of his throne, gray dust spewing from his feelers.

  The bells were chiming so loudly, they seemed to be inside her skull, and the wind whipped her hair around her face. Kyja ignored it all. She raised her stick over her head, hoping she wouldn’t have to use it, but willing to if that’s what it took to get the creatures’ respect.

  She glared at the tiny white ball. “I. Want. An. Answer.”

  The wind shrieked, spinning birds, flowers, leaves, sticks, and even a few rocks into a whirling tornado. The ringing of the bells grew louder, louder, and suddenly crashed in one great orchestra of sound—then stopped.

  Everything disappeared around them. The ishkabiddles, the throne, the carpet. The entire castle collapsed in a shatter of ringing glass. Kyja found herself standing in the middle of a meadow on one of the floating islands. Marcus pressed his hands to his ears, his eyes two great circles of fear and surprise. Riph Raph flapped midair, unsure of which way to go.

  The spinning tornado split into two, then formed into what looked like a man and a woman created completely of birds, leaves, butterflies, twigs, rocks, grass, and hundreds of other bits and pieces.

  The man, leaning against a spear jabbed into the ground, grinned widely. Beside him, the woman chuckled as if she’d heard an extremely funny joke. “Very well,” she said, spreading arms in which birds chirped, butterflies flapped, and flowers bloomed. “An answer you shall have.”

  Interlude

  Ultimatum

  The land elementals approached the room cautiously. The dimly lit tunnels didn’t bother them. Land Keep w
as, after all, underground. Nor did the odd creatures they passed. When one dealt with a master of black magic, one expected certain . . . oddities. It was the smell that made them uneasy—a foul miasma of rotting corpses, spoiled meat, and something beneath it all, which they both preferred not to think about.

  As they entered Fein Ter’er, the master’s inner sanctum, they found him sitting in his throne, head lowered as though asleep or deep in thought, or—based on his chest, which seemed not to rise and fall with breath at all—dead.

  “You called for us?” they asked.

  For a moment he didn’t look up. When he did, they shifted uneasily, gripping the silver scepter in their hands as if it might give them some protection from the thing seated in the throne before them.

  “Did I?” From deep inside his dark hood, red eyes studied them unblinkingly. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

  The land elementals felt a little relief. They tried not to let the master see their unease, but they knew he probably sensed it anyway. “The land army grows stronger every day,” the elementals said, fluttering their wings.

  “Land and water.” The master chuckled. “You must not try to take all the credit. And Land Keep?”

  “Still trapped,” the elementals said. “The water boy’s river holds.”

  The red eyes glowed like embers. “Cascade can be very effective with the right motivation.” He waved his hand. “Very well. Return and wait. I imagine the children will arrive soon enough. If they survive, I want you ready for them.”

  The land elementals bowed and dropped to their knees. “And when we catch them?”

  “Bring them to me, of course. Alive or dead.”

  Part 3

  Aerisians

  Chapter 24

  A Dark Vision

  Marcus could only stare at the people—or were they creatures?—standing before him. After everything he and Kyja had been through, he didn’t know what to think. Did this mean the ishkabiddles had been . . . what? A joke? Another riddle? Or were these beings—who seemed to be nothing more than a crazy patchwork of other plants and animals—the joke?