Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  “Are you going to tell us what’s really going on here?” Marcus asked. “Or should we leave?” He pointed behind him. “I’m pretty sure this one will take us back to Terra ne Staric.”

  Kyja looked where he was pointing. There was nothing but a frozen waterfall, with what she was almost sure was an old man encased inside it. What did he mean by saying it would take them home? Obviously the Aerisians weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. Could this have something to do with what he’d been hiding from her?

  “Very well,” the man said.

  Kyja felt her body sag with relief.

  “Who are you?” Marcus asked. “Are you part of the Dark Circle?”

  Divum giggled, and Kyja’s temper flared.

  “I’m sorry,” Divum said, putting a hand to her mouth. “It’s just . . . do you really think any humans are powerful enough to do what you’ve seen us do? Do you think the ciralati would answer the call of a mortal?”

  Caelum grinned. “In some ways, you appear so intelligent. And in others, your foolishness is beyond imagining.”

  “Then you really are air elementals,” Kyja said. She didn’t know what she would have done if they’d come all this way only to discover that the two of them were frauds.

  “See the Lords of Air—Above the clouds they creep,” Divum said. “Isn’t that how your poem goes?”

  Kyja nodded.

  “Creep,” Caelum said disdainfully. “Have you ever seen an Aerisian creep?”

  Kyja had to admit she hadn’t. And it really didn’t seem in their nature to, now that she’d met them.

  Riph Raph flicked his tail. “Maybe you should do a little more creeping and a little less dancing and twirling.”

  Caelum flipped his hands dismissively. “And perhaps as a creature who relies on flight, you should show more respect to the Lords of the Air.”

  The skyte gulped and ducked his head.

  “Now that we know who and what you are, isn’t it time you tell us why you brought us here and what you want from us?” Kyja asked.

  Divum looked at Caelum. “That may take some time,” she said.

  Marcus, who was still lying on the ground, shivered and said, “In that c-case, how about if we go s-somewhere a little warmer?”

  Chapter 28

  The Referee

  Marcus reclined on a large pillow inside the throne room, sipping a hot drink that tasted like a mix of caramel, nuts, honey, and peppermint. It was light and foamy, tickling his nose when he accidentally inhaled a little of it.

  Kyja, who sat on a pillow beside him, rubbed her stomach and groaned with delight. “This is delicious. What is it?”

  “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it without choking on your tongue,” Divum said with a grin that left Marcus unsure if she was joking or not.

  Marcus took another long swallow. “You know, if you’d just given us a drink of this first, you wouldn’t have needed all those tricks.”

  “Who says your drink isn’t a trick as well?” Caelum said with a straight face. It wasn’t until Marcus jerked the cup away from his mouth that the Aerisian chuckled.

  “Very funny.” Marcus looked from one air elemental to the other—if that was really what they were. “You’ve gone to all the trouble to get us here. Who wants to tell us the real reason?”

  Divum, who sat on the throne again, tucked her feet under her, flowers and butterflies swirling about her legs. “You are here because you want our help.”

  Kyja turned the box in her fingers. “But what do you want?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Divum smiled. “We want to help you.”

  “Fine,” Marcus said, sick of all the lies and half-truths. “Then agree to help us now, with no tricks or games or tests.”

  “You must prove yourselves worthy,” Caelum said. “By winning our—”

  “Stop it!” Kyja jumped off her pillow, spilling her drink. “Why do we have to prove anything? Why do we have to play your games or figure out your riddles? Why not help us because it’s the right thing to do? Because we need you? Because Farworld needs you?”

  Marcus could have hugged her.

  Divum stuck out her lower lip. “Because we can’t.”

  The room went totally silent. Kyja stared at the air elemental with a look of disbelief. Even Caelum seemed surprised.

  “You mean you won’t,” Marcus said.

  “No.” Divum shook back her hair, colored leaves falling to her lap. “We cannot help you.”

  Caelum walked to the throne and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Divum speaks the truth. We are unable to help you, no matter how much we may want to.”

  “Are you two going to listen to these lying leaf-bird-bug creatures?” Riph Raph said. “Don’t you get it? They say the land and water elementals are working with the Dark Circle, but they’re the ones who lured the two of you all the way up here while Farworld gets destroyed.”

  Marcus looked from Riph Raph to the Aerisians. For once he agreed with the skyte. They’d been so eager to find the air elementals and get their help that they never considered it might be a ploy to get the two of them out of the way.

  Kyja stared into Divum’s eyes. “I think she’s telling the truth.”

  “How can she be?” Marcus stood—the pain he’d felt earlier was gone. “You’ve seen the kind of powers they have.”

  “Only here,” Caelum said softly.

  “Huh?” Marcus had no idea what that meant.

  Divum waved her arms, sending swarms of black and yellow butterflies rising toward the ceiling. “The reason we fill our world with such elaborate creatures, plants, and buildings is because it’s the only world we have. We are forbidden from leaving it.”

  Marcus opened his mouth, found he had nothing to say, and closed it.

  Riph Raph sputtered.

  It was Kyja who finally found her voice. “You can’t leave Air Keep?”

  The Aerisians shook their heads. “Water and land are of your world,” Caelum said. “Air is above it. And fire . . . well, that is a discussion for another time.”

  Marcus couldn’t believe it. All this time. All the puns. All of it was a total waste. “It really was just a game for you, wasn’t it? You thought it was funny to see how far we’d go to get your help even though you knew it was pointless.”

  Caelum gave a deep, throaty laugh that made Marcus want to throw something at him. “It was funny. And it is a game. But that’s not why we brought you here. At least, not the only reason.”

  It was Kyja—the one who was always so good at understanding others—who finally figured it out. She held up the box. “This isn’t just a game piece. It’s the whole reason you brought us here, isn’t it?”

  Divum nodded.

  “What’s inside?” Marcus asked, still furious. “What’s so important that you brought us here, lied to us, and tried to trick us into opening it for you?”

  “A key,” Caelum said. “The key to our freedom.”

  In all of her studies, Kyja had been mystified about why no one had ever been able to see even a sign of an air elemental. Now she understood. The Aerisians couldn’t leave Air Keep. They were trapped here, looking down on a world they couldn’t reach.

  And while a part of her was as angry as Marcus for the Aerisians’ deception, another part of her understood their reasons completely. She knew how it felt to see a world you could never be a part of.

  “Why didn’t you just tell us?” she asked.

  “We didn’t think you’d help,” Divum said.

  “Why would you help us,” Caeulm said, “unless you thought it was to your advantage?” He smiled in a way that made Kyja feel uncomfortable.

  “That’s the thing with all of you elementals,” Marcus growled. “All you think of is yourselves. Did it ever occur to you we might help you because it’s the right thing to do? Because we could?”

  “I don’t think it’s their fault,” Kyja said. “I don’t think empathy is an emotion they understand.” I
t was something she’d been thinking a lot about lately. Way back when Master Therapass first told them that the elementals wouldn’t work with one another, she’d thought it was because they were stubborn. Or maybe because no one had ever asked them to. Now she was beginning to wonder if cooperation was something elementals were incapable of. Even if she and Marcus did manage to gather all four, it might not matter.

  “I don’t care what their problem is,” Marcus said. “Before, we might have been willing to help you because we could. Now, you’ve lost that chance. If you want us to get your key, it’s going to cost you.”

  Kyja pulled him close. “I don’t think this is the way to handle them,” she whispered in his ear.

  “What do you mean?”

  She backed him away from the Aerisians and kept her voice low. “Remember what the Augur Well told us?”

  “Kind of.” He squinted his eyes in concentration. “Um, three would join us. That was Screech, Tankum, and Rhaidnan.”

  Kyja nodded, her heart aching at the memory of the hunter’s betrayal and ultimate sacrifice.

  “Dreams and old enemies,” Marcus scratched his head. “There was something else.”

  “It told us that one of us had family looking for us,” Kyja said. That was something she’d been thinking a lot about too. “But it also said a key would bring great power and great danger.”

  “I thought that meant the gauntlet,” Marcus whispered. “It was powerful and dangerous.”

  “But it wasn’t a key,” Kyja said. “What if the key that the oracle was prophesying about is inside this box?” The silver octagon, which had felt so light at first, seemed to have taken on a great weight. “I think we need to find out what’s in here.”

  Marcus nodded. “I still don’t trust them.”

  “I don’t either,” Kyja admitted. She especially had a strange feeling about Caelum—like he looked at humans as less than him. Play things.

  “You spoke of a cost,” Caelum said, as Marcus and Kyja returned to the throne. “Are you suggesting a bargain of some sort?”

  “Not a bargain,” Kyja said. “A promise. We promise to open the box, and you promise to help us fight the Dark Circle.”

  “And open a drift,” Marcus said.

  The Aerisians glanced at each other. “That seems like a high price for such a little thing as opening a box,” the woman said.

  Marcus sneered. ”It’s actually a pretty low price . . . for your freedom.”

  “Very well,” Caelum said. “You open the box. Once we are free to leave Air Keep, we will send Aerisians to aid you in your quests.”

  Divum gave him a look Kyja didn’t understand.

  “Let us bring forth a witness to attest to our bargain,” Caelum said.

  “What kind of witness?” Kyja asked. “Aren’t the five of us enough?”

  Divum stood. “No agreement is complete without a judge to certify the arrangements. What do you call someone in your world who witnesses a contest, handing down impartial rulings?”

  “A referee?” Marcus said, clearly dubious.

  “Who could we use that we would both trust?” Kyja asked.

  “Not another one of your creatures,” Riph Raph said. “I don’t trust any of them.”

  Caelum grinned. “I believe I know just such an individual.” The Aerisian waved his hands, and a figure tumbled into the room, arms and legs flying like a windmill. A top hat flipped off his head, and a pair of large, white dice dropped out of his hand, clattering across the floor to land in front of the throne.

  “What’s this?” the little man sputtered, leaping to his feet and reaching for his hat. “Who summoned me? I was in the middle of a very important . . .” He looked up at Caelum, who was smiling, and Marcus, who was not, and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Oh.”

  “Mr. Z!” Marcus shouted. “You think Mr. Z is an impartial judge?”

  “We trust him,” Divum said.

  “Of course you do.” Marcus’s face was scarlet with fury. “He’s been working for you all along.”

  Divum giggled. “That’s how we know he’s trustworthy.”

  Caelum clapped Mr. Z on the shoulder. “We must have someone who can witness anything that might take place whether on Farworld or on Earth. He’s the only one capable of following the two of you.”

  “Wait, you can go to Earth?” Marcus stared at Mr. Z, his mouth hanging open. “It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who tricked me into entering the mirror.”

  “What do you mean?” Kyja asked.

  Marcus jabbed a finger toward Mr. Z. “All along I’ve been thinking the air elementals were the ones who moved my papers in the monastery. But they can’t go to Earth. You did it, didn’t you? And . . .” His mouth dropped open. “Were you Father Shaun?”

  Mr. Z rubbed his glasses furiously on the lapel of his coat, his nose bright red. “I might have spent a little time pretending to be a certain monk.”

  “Did you leave the note on my bed?” Kyja asked.

  The little man cleared his throat noisily.

  Divum grinned. “He shall be our—what did you call it—referee?”

  “He is not going to be the referee,” Marcus sputtered. “No way is he impartial.”

  “The boy’s quite right.” Mr. Z scurried across the room and picked up his dice. “I have very important business to attend to. Big things going on. Far too busy to referee anything. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll—”

  Kyja stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug that squeezed the air from the little man’s lungs in an audible whoosh. “We’ll take him,” she said.

  Chapter 29

  Exsalusentia

  Are you crazy?” Marcus whispered. “That sneaky little guy has been lying to us ever since we met him. We can’t trust him.”

  “I don’t think he’s ever actually lied,” Kyja said. “He just didn’t always tell us everything.”

  “He didn’t tell us anything,” Riph Raph said. “I don’t trust him. And I definitely don’t trust his snail.”

  The three of them stood on the other side of the throne room while the Aerisians watched and Mr. Z fidgeted.

  “He’s strange,” Kyja admitted. “But I’ve had a good feeling about him ever since we met him in Land Keep. There’s something about him. I don’t understand what exactly, but I think he can help us.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I still don’t like it.” They walked back to the throne, Marcus leaning only a little on Kyja for support. “Let’s go over the rules again. Just so there are no misunderstandings down the road. We open the box, and you help us fight the Dark Circle and open a drift. No tricks.”

  “No tricks.” Caelum smiled as though Marcus had told an especially good joke. “A fair game.”

  Kyja examined the box, but she couldn’t locate a keyhole, lid, button, or latch of any kind. “How do we open it?”

  Divum gave a startled laugh. Caelum blinked, as though unsure if Kyja was serious, then clutched his stomach, doubling over as he guffawed. Even Mr. Z chuckled into his silk handkerchief.

  Kyja looked at Marcus, wondering how she had missed the joke, but he seemed as confused as she was. “What’s so funny?”

  Caelum wiped his eyes and laughed even harder. Mr. Z honked his big red nose.

  “What’s wrong with you people?” Marcus scowled. “We agreed to your rules. So tell us what we’re supposed to do. Is it another riddle? A quest? Do we have to defeat a dragon?”

  Divum dropped into her throne and rested her chin in her palm. “Your question is just so silly. If we knew how to open it, we would have done it long ago ourselves.”

  It took a moment for their words to sink in. When they did, Kyja felt all her confidence that things would work out slipping away. “You mean you don’t know how to open it?”

  Caelum hiccupped and tried to control his laughter. “Of course not.”

  Marcus collapsed onto his pillow as though his strength had suddenly left him.
“You must have some idea. I mean, it’s your box, isn’t it? Is it magic? Does it have a key? Whoever gave it to you must have given instructions.”

  Caelum paced the room, his spear in his hand. “It has been with us always. It is called Exsalusentia.”

  “That’s a mouthful,” Riph Raph said. “Sounds like something you’d drink for an upset stomach.”

  The Aerisians frowned. “It means salvation, destruction, and freedom,” Caelum said. “It is the most sacred of all items in Air Keep. It is said that in the day it is opened, all Aerisians shall be freed from the chains which bind us here, to choose their destiny—be it salvation or destruction.”

  Kyja wasn’t sure she’d want to open something that could cause her own destruction. “But if you don’t know how to open it, what makes you think we can?”

  For the first time, Kyja saw an Aerisian look truly angry. Caelum spun around to face Mr. Z, his spear clenched in one hand. “You said they were the ones!”

  Mr. Z coughed, backing away as the Aerisian stalked after him. “I believe I said they might . . . that is, based on thoroughly verified, but not entirely substantiated . . . which is to say, the likelihood is that . . . yes, I believe they are the ones who can open your box.”

  Marcus shook his head at the Aerisians. “You mean to tell me that you took the word of a man who spends his time watching snails joust?” This time, he was the one laughing, while the Aerisians looked confused. “Oh, that’s just great. Well, now you know what it feels like to have the joke on you. You’ve just wasted your time.” He got up from his pillow and turned to Kyja. “Let’s go. Maybe they’ll introduce Mr. Z to their puns. I hope you like fruit!”

  Caelum reached down to grab Mr. Z by the arm. He lifted the little man, squirming, into the air. “If you have lied to us, your debt is still unpaid. We will—”

  Mr. Z tried to wriggle away, but the Aerisian’s grip was too tight. Caelum tilted him upside down, and a profusion of items fell from his pockets. Glasses, coins, dice, cards, snails, old shoes, mismatched socks, wands, silverware, and even a large green soup bowl clattered to the floor.