Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  The birds chirped louder, but the man just yawned. “Are they still here?”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Kyja said. “If no one is having much luck using land or water magic, the only ones who could do something that powerful would be . . .” She stared at Marcus, a terrible thought occurring to her.

  Marcus must have had the same idea. His forehead wrinkled. “The elementals would never willingly help the Dark Circle.”

  “Absolutely not,” Kyja agreed.

  Marcus bit his lower lip. “Where are Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc? The last I heard, Master Therapass had sent them out on some quests.”

  “They haven’t come back,” Kyja said. “Lanctrus-Darnoc went with the stone wizards and warriors. No one knows where Cascade went. Master Therapass sent him out on a secret mission six months ago—the same time the army left. But neither of them has come back.”

  Marcus’s eyes went dark. “Wait, how long did you say it’s been since the last rain?”

  “Six months. The drought started the same time the land began shaking.” She put her hand to her mouth, understanding what Marcus was thinking. “Ever since Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc left.”

  “Put a rose on his nose,” Caelum said, and a large red rose bloomed on the front of Marcus’s face.

  Chapter 26

  Fun and Games

  I knew we couldn’t trust the blue-faced water-wielder,” Riph Raph said. “Didn’t I tell you there was something fishy about that boy? And any creature that can’t decide whether it’s a pig or a fox is no good as far as I’m concerned.”

  Marcus slapped the rose away from his face, the blossoms dropping into a pile at his feet. “I don’t believe it. The elementals would never join the Dark Circle. Why would they? Do they want to see Farworld destroyed?”

  Kyja turned to the Aerisians. “It’s not true, is it?” she pleaded. “Tell me the water and land elementals haven’t joined the Dark Circle.”

  “The water and land elementals haven’t joined the Dark Circle,” the birds repeated, mimicking Kyja’s voice. The woman reappeared. “I’ll tell you that the sky is syrup, and grass is made of mint jelly, if you’d like. But that doesn’t make it true.”

  “I like the sound of jelly grass,” Caelum said. “It would squish between your toes when you walked on it. And if we added a few bread trees, we could have all the sandwiches we wanted.”

  “Oh, and what about sausage shrubs?” Divum squealed. “I love sliced sausage and mint jelly sandwiches. Should we start now, do you think?”

  “Stop it!” Marcus shouted, and the Aerisians stared at him like two children caught passing notes. “You said you’d answer our questions.”

  “Fine,” the man huffed. “We will answer exactly three questions. Then I’m having a jelly-grass sandwich.”

  “With sausage,” Divum added.

  It was probably the best they were going to get, Marcus decided. “You first,” he told Kyja.

  “Do you know for a fact that the water and land elementals are helping the Dark Circle?”

  “Yes,” Caelum said, holding up one finger.

  Marcus felt like someone had just punched him in the face. He wanted to tell the Aerisians that they were lying. That Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc were friends. That they’d fought against the Dark Circle side by side with the people of Terra ne Staric. How could they have turned their backs on them to join with evil?

  Yet it all made too much sense. The only time he’d ever seen water and land magic this powerful was when Cascade and Lanctrus-Darnoc fought against the Keepers. “I guess that’s how they knew we were in Icehold. The Fontasians must have been spying on us.” He pressed his hands against the sides of his head, trying to push away a headache that felt like it would split his skull in two. “Are humans strong enough to stop them?”

  Neither of the Aerisians bothered to answer. The man simply shook his head and ticked off his second finger.

  “You have to help us.” Kyja dropped to her knees. “You must fight against the Dark Circle. Please say you will.”

  Caelum shook his head. “We are not fighters.”

  “We are laughers,” Divum said. “Jokesters and tricksters. Lovers of beauty and players of games.”

  “Then why not think of this as a game?” Marcus said. “The air elementals against the land and water elementals.”

  “A game.” Caelum tapped his foot, which was currently made of wood chips and gray and brown moths. “With you as our partners?”

  “Sure,” Marcus said. “We’re good at games. We got past your puns, didn’t we?”

  Kyja bobbed her head. “And if you go back with us, we’d have two or three days to prepare before the attacks.”

  “It’s been ages since we left Air Keep,” Divum said. “It might be fun.”

  Caelum grinned. “There would be lots of humans to play jokes on.”

  “I can think of several right now,” Kyja said. “Will you do it?”

  The man whispered to the woman. She giggled and whispered something back.

  “We will,” they said at the same time.

  “Yes!” Marcus punched his fist in the air.

  “I don’t like it,” Riph Raph grumped.

  “On one condition,” the Aerisians said, speaking as one.

  Marcus got a tight feeling in his gut. Somehow he knew it couldn’t be that easy. “What’s the condition?”

  Caelum and Divum glanced at each other and nodded. “That you prove yourselves worthy.”

  “I told you I didn’t like it,” Riph Raph groused. “You can’t trust anything these bubble brains say.”

  “Hush,” Kyja said. At least there was a chance the air elementals might help them, which was more than they’d had before. She brushed her hands over her hair, again wishing that she was wearing something more presentable than a ragged robe. “How do we prove we’re worthy?”

  “It’s quite easy.” Caelum laughed. “But rather difficult.”

  “Simple,” Divum agreed. “But complicated.”

  “It can’t be easy and hard,” Marcus said. “And it’s either complicated, or it’s simple.”

  “On the contrary,” the woman said. “Some of the best things in life are both.”

  “Well?” Kyja folded her arms across her chest. “What is it? Another riddle to solve?”

  “No.” Divum shook her head. “I’m tired of riddles.”

  “A game, then?” the man suggested. A look passed between him and the woman, and suddenly Kyja had a feeling that none of this was random. The air elementals seemed silly on their surface. So then why did she have a feeling they’d been planning this all along?

  “What kind of game?” Marcus asked.

  Both Aerisians appeared to consider the question.

  “The box?” Caelum asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Yes.” Divum clapped her hands and bounced. “The box.” She gave a piercing whistle, and an ishkabiddle hurried into the room. On its back was a silver eight-sided box. The woman picked it up, balancing it in one hand as she ran the fingers of the other across it. Kyja recognized the symbol engraved on the top of the box: a loop with a curlicue on one end—the symbol for air.

  The Aerisian handed Kyja the box. It was lighter than she expected, but it felt solid. She turned it over in her hands. “What is it?”

  “This is the game piece,” the man said. “Next, we need a playing field. Come.” He led them through the throne room, down the stairs, and out of the castle. When they reached the gardens, he waved a hand toward the sky.

  Kyja looked up to see six or seven creatures circling in the air above them. She’d never seen anything like them before. They had curved bodies with graceful necks and long, flowing tails. Their clawed feet were tucked against the fronts and backs of their silvery purple bodies. They each had broad wings, but when the Aerisian summoned them, they moved by pumping their bodies in a swimming motion instead of flapping their wings.

  “They look a little like
seahorses with wings,” Marcus whispered.

  Kyja had no idea what a seahorse was, but she was awed by the sight of the magnificent creatures. “What are they?”

  “Ciralati,” Divum said. “Each ciralatus is born of the clouds and fed by the wind.”

  Four of the ciralati landed in the garden, somehow managing not to crush a single flower or bend so much as a blade of grass.

  “Here,” the woman said, handing Kyja and Marcus the coats they’d left on the first island. “You’ll need these.” The Aerisians lifted Marcus and Kyja onto the creatures’ backs. Kyja had never seen the woman leave them; when did she get their coats?

  Caelum glanced at Riph Raph. “Would you like to ride?”

  The skyte shook his head. “I prefer my own wings.”

  “Do you think you can keep up?” Divum laughed.

  “Are you kidding?” Riph Raph puffed out his chest. “Skytes are the kings of the sky.” One of the ciralati glanced over with violet eyes, and Riph Raph coughed. “No offense.”

  “Where are we going?” Marcus asked as the Aerisians climbed onto their mounts.

  The man grinned. “Somewhere you may be familiar with.”

  Marcus stiffened as his ciralatus lifted into the sky. Kyja tried to catch his eye, but for some reason, he wouldn’t look at her.

  Riding the ciralatus was like rafting on air. For the next few minutes, she forgot about all of their problems. The creatures bounced from one invisible current to another, climbing up and sliding down, like fish in a rushing river. Occasionally, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of other ciralati soaring through the clouds above them.

  “Are those more Aerisians?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Caelum called back.

  “How many are there?” Kyja wondered why she and Marcus had only come across these two.

  Divum laughed. “How many leaves are in the trees, or flowers in the garden, or butterflies in the sky?” That wasn’t much of an answer. Then again, the Aerisians didn’t seem very informative about anything.

  The ciralati climbed so high, it was hard to breathe and the air turned icy cold. But Kyja found that by leaning into the soft skin of her mount, she could stay warm. The Aerisians led them through clouds and swirls of bone-chilling fog, until, at last, a single mountain peak appeared. The creatures circled the top, and Kyja spotted a dark opening in the snow below. She glanced at Marcus; he was staring at the opening, eyes wide with what looked like horror.

  “What’s wrong?” she called as her ciralatus flew downward.

  Marcus shook his head, his face white.

  At the mouth of the dark opening, wind whistled around them. One by one, the ciralati folded their wings and dove inside. A circular chasm led down and down, until the last ciralatus came to a landing on the floor of the pit. Kyja gazed around her and realized that each side was a frozen waterfall.

  “Look,” she said, pointing to the nearest. “There’s something inside the ice. I think it might be a man.”

  Marcus climbed off his mount and faced the Aerisians, eyes flaring. “No deal. We won’t do it.” Suddenly, his face went white, and he collapsed to the ground.

  Chapter 27

  Finding the Truth

  Ever since the air elementals had started talking about time, Marcus had had a bad feeling. He’d thought it was just nerves, but his recent experience with traveling through time had been too painful—what he had seen in the future was impossible to forget, even with everything that had happened since.

  But as soon as the Aerisian mentioned going back to Marcus’s When, his mind had flashed back to the Is, the Was and most importantly, the Will Be. Was it possible the Aerisians talking about magically returning to a different time was just a coincidence? After all, the air elementals were on Farworld. How could they know about something that had happened to him on Earth?

  But he was almost sure that the freezing cavern Elder Ephraim’s mirror had taken him to hadn’t been on Earth. And could it be a coincidence that ever since he had decided to leave the monastery, everything strange thing that had happened to him revolved around time? The Is, the Was, and the Will Be, Terra ne Staric being frozen, and now the air elementals.

  Things were beginning to add up. The monk who wasn’t a monk. The way he was led to the mirror. The note Kyja found. Some unseen force keeping him from telling Master Therapass what he’d seen. Mr. Z stopping time and then bringing them to Air Keep. All of it seemed to point to one thing: whatever was happening here wasn’t coincidence.

  Were he and Kyja really convincing the air elementals to help them? Or were the elementals the ones doing the convincing? If so, what were they trying to accomplish?

  When the Aerisian told him he might be familiar with where they were going, Marcus was almost certain. And as soon as he saw where they were flying to, there was no doubt left in his mind. This whole thing was a trick—possibly even a trap—but he wasn’t going to get caught here again.

  As soon as Marcus told them he refused to play their game, the pain that had disappeared from his body as they entered Air Keep returned with a sickening jolt. His right leg buckled in agony, and he fell to the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” Kyja jumped off of her ciralatus and ran to his side.

  Groaning in pain, he felt like he was reliving his first time here. His body aching, the bitter cold, the tiny circle of gray sky far overhead. All that was missing was the roaring of the waterfalls, the fog, and the coins.

  He pushed himself up so that he could look the Aerisians in the eye. “It’s been you all along, hasn’t it?”

  “Who else would we be?” Caelum laughed. “It’s far too much fun being ourselves.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be a tree,” Divum said. “It might be fun to branch out.” Her arms changed to sweeping pine branches.

  But Marcus wasn’t buying their act anymore. “You set this all up. You made me think I was in danger at the monastery. You made Kyja bring me over. How did you convince Mr. Z to help? I’ll bet he knows all about your act.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kyja said.

  Marcus noticed the box in her hand. “Is that what this is all about? What’s in there that you need? And why do you need our help to open it?”

  “The cold has frozen his brain,” Divum said.

  “You asked for our help. Are you getting cold feet now?” The man grinned, but Marcus sensed something behind his smile as he said, “If you don’t think you can win the game, just say so.”

  Kyja looked down at her slippers. “My feet and my hands are cold. Does that have something to do with the game?”

  Marcus glanced at Kyja and a thought occurred to him. He turned to the Aerisians. “Where did you learn the saying ‘cold feet’?”

  “It . . . it’s a common expression here,” Caelum’s smile disappeared momentarily but quickly returned. “A play on words. Meaning ‘to back out of a promise.’”

  “Have you ever heard it?” Marcus asked Kyja.

  She shook her head.

  “That’s because it’s not from Farworld. It’s from Earth.” He glared at the man and woman. “Tell us who you really are—and why you brought us here—or the game’s over. I quit.”

  “You would let your world be destroyed?” Caelum asked, a grin still lurking at the corner of his mouth.

  “No,” Kyja said at once. Whatever Marcus was doing, he had to stop it before this went too far. Without the Aerisians’ help, Terra ne Staric would be destroyed—quite possibly with the rest of Farworld—and their chance of opening a drift would be doomed.

  “It is our game,” Divum said. “We set the rules.”

  “We’re not playing your game anymore,” Marcus said.

  “Stop it!” Kyja hissed. Had he gone crazy? “Yes, we are playing.”

  Marcus held up one hand. “Do you notice they keep saying your world will be destroyed? As if Farworld doesn’t matter to them one way or the other?”

  “We’re above you
r world.” The woman giggled and waved her hands. “We don’t care what happens down there.”

  Something about that didn’t sound right. “If you don’t care what happens outside Air Keep, why did it matter that we were searching for you?” Kyja asked.

  “As we told you,” Caelum said, “we grew bored waiting for your tiresome search to lead you to us.”

  “But if you don’t care what happens on Farworld, it shouldn’t have mattered whether we found you or not.”

  “There’s something they aren’t telling us,” Marcus said. “They went to a lot of trouble to get us both here. Then they acted like they didn’t care once we got here. The whole thing from the puns to the ishkabiddles was all a trick to make us think we were earning the right to see them. But if they didn’t have a reason for needing us here, they never would have sent Mr. Z.”

  Kyja thought back to her feeling before that this whole thing had been orchestrated—that the silliness was at least partly an act.

  “Give them back the box,” Marcus said. “They were right; this place is familiar, and we’re leaving.”

  Kyja glanced at him curiously. How could this place be familiar? There was no way Marcus could have been here before. She looked at the carved silver box in her hand. If they left now, and the Aerisians let them go . . . She just had to hope Marcus knew what he was talking about. Gritting her teeth, she held out her hand and offered them the box.

  “This is your last chance,” Caelum said. “If you choose to leave the game now, you will never return to Air Keep again. The Dark Circle will destroy your world.”

  Kyja looked at Marcus, her heart pounding. Unless he was absolutely positive, giving the box back now would be making a terrible mistake. He nodded.

  “Take it!” Kyja raised the box over her shoulder like a ball, cocked her arm, and swung it forward, but before she could throw it, Divum cried out.

  “Wait!”

  The man grimaced.

  “We have no choice,” she said.

  “There will be others,” he snarled.

  “No.” Divum studied Marcus and Kyja and shook her head. “They are different. They are the ones.”