Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  “Help!” he shouted to Kyja and Marcus. “Tell him to unhand me!”

  “Put him down.” Kyja ran to Mr. Z, grabbing him around the waist. For a moment, she and Caelum both tugged at the little man, in different directions, and Kyja was afraid the Aerisian would pick them both up and fling them across the room. Finally, he released his grip. She stumbled backward—barely managing to set Mr. Z down before the two of them fell over.

  “Why did you think we could open the box?” she asked him, trying to catch her breath.

  Mr. Z gave an anxious glance toward Caelum, his face pale. “You passed the land elementals’ tests, didn’t you?” His voice was a little more shrill than normal. “And you entered the walls of Water Keep, which no human has ever done. You can’t open a drift without all four elementals, and the Aerisians can’t leave Air Keep until the box is opened. So, if A equals B, and B equals C, ideo non constat . . .”

  “Cut the garbage,” Marcus said. “You made this whole thing up to save yourself. What was that about you paying a debt?”

  The little man straightened his hat, eyes twitching. “There might have been a small wager involving a certain snail and a certain winged creature.” Caelum growled, and Mr. Z jumped. “And I might have made certain promises I am not currently able to deliver upon. But that does not change the fact that the Aerisians are in need of a key. And you are in need of an Aerisian.”

  Kyja was disappointed in the little man. She’d been so sure his motives were nobler than settling a bet. And it did appear that he’d stretched the truth more than once. But that didn’t change the fact that he was right. “We’ll do it,” she said. “We’ll open the box.”

  Mr. Z let out a breath so loud it sounded like a balloon being released, and a little of the color returned to his face.

  Caelum looked at Kyja. “You can do this?”

  Marcus shook his head. “We have no idea how to open your box. And we need to go. We should be fighting the Dark Circle.”

  “And opening a drift,” Kyja reminded him. “Which we can’t do without their help.” She turned to the Aerisians. “What was that place with the waterfalls? Why did you take us there?”

  Marcus’s body stiffened. He was breathing rapidly, like he’d just finished a race, and sweat beaded his forehead. “Fine. We’ll open your stupid box. But we’re not going back into the pit.”

  Kyja stared at him. Clearly he was scared of the place. But why?

  “The Abyss of Time is the home of Exsalusentia,” Divum explained. “It is a place of power—the spindle upon which time and space revolve. Although we do not know how, we believe that it is vital to opening the box.”

  “I don’t care what it is,” Marcus said, his hands balled so tightly his arms were actually shaking. “We’re not going in there again.”

  Kyja pulled him aside. “What do you know about that Abyss of Time?”

  Marcus shot an annoyed look at Mr. Z, then whispered, “Remember when I told you about that mirror?”

  Kyja nodded. “The one you touched when I couldn’t find you on Earth.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Marcus’s jaws strained. He swallowed. “When I touched it, I went to that place.”

  Kyja stared at him. “You’ve been in the Abyss?”

  Marcus nodded. “It’s a kind of magic doorway that takes you to different places. And different times. And it’s really bad. Maybe even dangerous. No matter what they say, you have to promise me you won’t go in there. We’ll find another way to open the box.”

  Kyja looked into his eyes. She was almost positive he wasn’t telling her everything, but it was enough to know that whatever had happened in the Abyss left him terrified. She squeezed his arm. “All right. We’ll find another way.”

  She turned back to the Aerisians. “We’ll open the box. But we won’t go into the Abyss.”

  “You must,” Caelum said. “It is the only way.”

  Kyja dropped her eyes. “The Abyss wouldn’t work for me anyway. I’m immune to magic.”

  She expected the air elementals to be shocked, maybe even repulsed, by her confession, but neither seemed surprised. It was as if they already knew. “We have considered this,” Divum said. “It is one of the reasons we chose Mr. Z, as you call him, to join you. He is a creature of pure magic. As long as you hold his hand, you may enter the Is, the Was, the—”

  “Didn’t you hear us?” Marcus shouted. “We’re not going through those doors!”

  Divum smiled, eyes bright with hidden knowledge. “If you do not return through the Abyss of Time, you will have no city to return to. It will already have been destroyed by the time you get back.”

  Chapter 30

  One Way Back

  How could Terra ne Staric be destroyed?” Marcus asked, an icy ball in the pit of his stomach. “You said we could go back to our time, to just before Mr. Z brought us here on the snail.”

  “That is only if you go back through the Abyss of Time,” Divum said. “To aid you in your travels here, we locked time in place before you left. Think of it as a sort of shortcut—a doorway you can return through. If you go back using the Abyss, no time will have passed since you left. Terra ne Staric will not have been attacked by the golems, Icehold will be untouched by the Summoner. But if you try to return by means other than the Abyss, that doorway will close, time will have passed, and . . .” Her dress of birds flapped and tweeted, but Marcus only watched her eyes—tiny spinning flowers that seemed to be trying to hypnotize him. Was this a trick to force him and Kyja into the pit? He had no way to know.

  “Is it true?” he asked Mr. Z, unsure he could trust the little man any more than he could trust the Aerisians, but desperate to find some way of avoiding the Abyss. “Do you swear that the Abyss is the only way back to where we started?”

  Mr. Z scratched his head. “Well, I suppose . . . I mean . . . considering . . .” He tugged his ear. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s true.”

  “What’s so bad about the Abyss?” Kyja whispered. “What makes you think it’s dangerous?”

  How could he tell her that if she went through the wrong door, she’d discover that he was going to kill her? He ran his hands through his hair, trying to think. “Okay. We’ll go through the Abyss. But only to get back to Terra ne Staric. Only through the Is.”

  “Where you go after leaving here is up to you,” Caelum said. “Just as what we do when we leave Air Keep is up to us.”

  “Except that you promised to help us.”

  Divum looked at Caelum and he nodded. “The Aerisians keep their word.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Kyja said. But Marcus wasn’t sure. He felt like he was being drawn step by step into the future he’d seen, no matter how much he fought against it. Maybe it would have been better if Kyja hadn’t pulled him out of the Never Was. One thing he was certain of: if he came to a point where he was about to do anything to hurt Kyja, he wouldn’t hesitate to return through the door and hurl himself into the Void of Unbecoming.

  The Aerisians led them out of the castle again and summoned the ciralati. On the ride to the Abyss, Marcus clutched his coat tightly around him, a million questions swirling through his head. Where should they start looking for a clue to opening the box? And could they find it before Terra ne Staric and Icehold were destroyed? If they only had two or three days, should they spend them trying to stop the attack or finding a way to open the box?

  Above all, how could he find a way to change the future?

  When they landed inside the pit, all of his previous pains returned. His left arm throbbed, and his right leg felt like it was on fire.

  Divum helped Marcus off his mount. “You may need this.” She handed Marcus his staff, which looked completely undamaged—just as it had before the Frostbite. Marcus started to ask the air elemental how she’d fixed it, before deciding it didn’t matter.

  “Is this still part of Air Keep?” Kyja asked, running a hand across the back of her ciralatus.

  In the cold, Divum’s body had ch
anged from birds, leaves, and butterflies, to snowflakes, icicles, and what looked to Marcus like white ferrets. “This is the border,” she said. “It is as far as we can go. The doors of the Abyss of Time are not open to us.”

  “Until we open the Exsalusentia,” Kyja said.

  Caelum shook his head. “The Abyss of Time may not be used by elementals.

  Marcus leaned on his staff, looking forlornly at the frozen faces inside each of the ice-blocked falls. “What now? Do you give us the coins?”

  “You have no need of coins,” Divum said. “Tokens are for those who wish to spend their days . . . elsewhere—people who long for the past, or can’t wait for the future. As long as Mr. Z is with you, you may freely enter and leave any of the doors of the Abyss.”

  “But beware,” Caelum said, his eyes as hard as the ice around him. “There is one more difference from the last time you entered these portals. With a being of pure magic, you cannot only view what is through each portal, but you can change it as well. You must be extremely careful not to do so.”

  Marcus felt his heart race. “We can change what’s through the doors?”

  “You can,” Divum said. “But you must not. The danger is too great. The spindle upon which time and space spin is a fragile thing. The smallest changes may upset the balance and destroy the Abyss completely, trapping you permanently, if you are inside it.”

  But Marcus wasn’t listening. For the first time since entering the Will Be, he knew there was a chance to change what he’d seen in the future. No matter the danger, he was determined to save Kyja.

  “Know also,” Divum said, “that anything sent into the Void of Unbecoming in the Never Was cannot be brought back by any means.”

  “What are they talking about?” Kyja asked. “What are the Never Was and the Void of Unbecoming?”

  “Don’t worry,” Marcus said. “I’ll tell you all about it.” Despite his pain, he felt like singing. “Well,” he said, turning to Mr. Z, “are you ready for more fun and adventure with your three best friends?”

  “I’m no friend of his,” Riph Raph said. “And I’m not even sure I’m a friend of yours, Turnip Head.”

  “Riph Raph!” Kyja scolded. But even the skyte couldn’t dampen Marcus’s spirits.

  Mr. Z took off his top hat, rubbed it on the sleeve of his coat, and asked, “Where would you like to go?” with far less enthusiasm than he’d had on their first trip.

  Marcus’s first thought was to go straight to the Will Be to change what he’d seen there. But if they went now, Kyja would find out what he’d nearly done. Besides, they had to focus on opening the Exsalusentia and on stopping the Dark Circle. He’d have to find a way to sneak to the Will Be—alone.

  “Take us to the Is,” Marcus said. The waterfall to their left roared to life, filling the Abyss with an icy mist.

  “Oh!” Kyja gasped, backing away from the pounding water.

  “Don’t worry,” Marcus said. “You won’t even get wet.”

  Kyja took Marcus’s arm in one hand and Mr. Z’s in the other. The three of them walked side by side into the mist and stepped out into Master Therapass’s study.

  “Master, outside . . .” a guard shouted. “There’s a . . .” The man stopped in midsentence, staring at Marcus and Kyja.

  Marcus realized they were standing in a different part of the room than they’d been before. Not to mention that they suddenly wore heavy coats and probably looked like they’d been through a hurricane. He looked around for Mr. Z, but the little man had disappeared again.

  The guard rubbed his eyes before returning his attention to Master Therapass. “There’s a messenger here with news from the field.”

  The wizard ignored the guard, studying Marcus and Kyja with a concerned look. “What’s going on here? How did you get out of your rooms? And what are you wearing?”

  Marcus shook his head. “It’ll take longer to explain than we’ve got time for. And I think you’re going to want to hear what that messenger has to say.”

  “Yes. Of course.” The wizard nodded. “Come with me,” he said, following the guard into the hallway.

  Kyja put one arm around Marcus, helping him walk. As they passed the room where Marcus had been resting before Mr. Z came for him, the door flew open.

  “The boy has disappeared!” the woman with big ears shouted.

  At the same time, the door to Kyja’s room swung outward, and both wizards tried to shove through at the same time. “Kyja is gone!” they yelled.

  “Yes, yes,” Therapass muttered. “We’ll discuss your dereliction of duty later.”

  The wizards gaped as Marcus and Kyja hurried down the hall. Marcus heard one of them mumble, “Not possible,” as he disappeared around the corner.

  The guard led them to the staircase, where they hurried down three levels. “Where’s Mr. Z?” Kyja whispered as she helped Marcus down the steps.

  He looked around, but the little man was nowhere to be seen. “If he skipped out on us, I’m gonna kill him.”

  Kyja pulled the silver box from her robe pocket. “As long as we’ve got the Exsalusentia, I don’t think he’ll go far. I think the Aerisians would have something to say about it.”

  The guard led them off the staircase and down a hall that opened into a large circular meeting room. The room was already nearly full of wizards.

  As they entered, Master Therapass stopped to speak with Terra ne Staric’s High Lord, Breslek Broomhead. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s the news?”

  Breslek shook his head, long beard wagging. “I was only just pulled out of bed myself. But from what I hear, it’s not good.”

  Just then, a woman walked through the door. She was at least six inches shorter than Marcus or Kyja, with flowing red hair. Dressed in shining chain armor and mail gloves, she marched to the center of the room.

  “Who’s that?” Marcus whispered to Kyja.

  “Eden,” Kyja whispered back. “The captain of the guards.”

  “Captain?” Marcus knew there were female warriors. He’d seen them fight as valiantly as any man. But this woman didn’t look any taller than a child, and not much older.

  “She’s never been defeated in battle,” Kyja whispered back. “They call her the Unquenchable Fire.”

  The captain gripped her sword and stared around the room, green eyes cold and serious. “Take your seats. We have urgent news.”

  Master Therapass motioned Marcus and Kyja to sit near the back of the room. The captain waved two guards through the door. They supported a young boy who looked half dead. His dark hair was wet with sweat and matted to his forehead. Cuts and bruises covered nearly every exposed part of his body, and dried blood was crusted on his face.

  “Someone needs to get the lad medical attention,” a wizard near the front exclaimed.

  “We will,” the captain said. “But the news he brings is vital.”

  “Couldn’t this wait until morning?” complained a cranky little man in the corner. His hair stuck straight up in crazy swirls, and his beard looked like a bird’s nest. “I was sleeping.”

  “No!” the captain roared, her voice booming, and the little man ducked out of sight. The captain turned to the boy. “Can you speak?”

  “Yes,” the boy croaked in a hoarse, trembling voice, which sounded like it should have come from someone much older.

  As the boy looked up, Kyja gasped. “Jaklah.”

  “Who?” Marcus asked, thinking the name sounded familiar.

  “It’s Jaklah. Don’t you remember? The boy from Land Keep.”

  Marcus studied the boy more closely. It was hard to believe the battered figure standing at the front of the room was the same boy he’d met after he’d been captured by the harbingers. But he was almost sure Kyja was right. What was he doing here?

  “Sent . . . by . . . Tankum,” the boy wheezed. Around the room, the wizards drew in a collective breath.

  “What is it, lad?” the captain urged.

  “Golems.” Jaklah coug
hed, and a line of red dripped down his lip. He swayed on his feet.

  “Get him some water,” High Lord Broomhead called, but the boy seemed to regain a little strength.

  “Golems,” he said, his eyes wide with fear. “As tall as . . . three men. Coming fast. Tried to . . . stop, but . . . for every one destroyed . . . two more rise from . . . ground. Too strong. Army retreating.”

  All around the room, men began to talk, but the captain silenced them, slamming a mailed fist against the table in front of her. “How far away?”

  “Three . . . days,” the boy gasped and passed out.

  Chapter 31

  Golems and Gallons

  At Jaklah’s words, the room exploded in a storm of confused shouts and demands.

  “Close the gates.”

  “Erect barricades.”

  “We have no choice but to leave the city.”

  “Surrender is our only option.”

  “Stop!” High Lord Broomhead raised his hands. “We are not surrendering, and we are not leaving the city. We will spend the next three days fortifying our defenses and preparing to withstand any assault. This is not the first time Terra ne Staric has been attacked, and it won’t be the last.”

  The captain of the guard raised a hand to her mouth and coughed loudly into it.

  Breslek turned to face the green-eyed woman, his irritation obvious. “What is it? Do you have a better plan?”

  “No, High Lord,” the captain said. “It’s only . . .” She leaned close and whispered something.

  The High Lord’s eyes widened, and the skin on his forehead crinkled into a tight little mountain range.

  “Well?” shouted the wizard who’d complained about being awakened. “Speak up! If you have something to say, share it with the rest of us. It’s not like we aren’t all in the same kettle of stew.”

  Kyja leaned forward as the captain looked over at High Lord Broomhead. He nodded. “Go ahead,” he murmured. “He’s right. They might as well know.”

  Eden clenched her fists, biceps bulging beneath her mail armor. “It doesn’t matter how strong our defenses are. They will all be for nothing.”