Air Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  “We come seeking knowledge,” Kyja said.

  Marcus had completely forgotten the password they’d used to get into Land Keep the first time, but it worked; the doors swung open at her words. Inside, everything was filled with water too. He could just make out the base of the tree of knowledge—its golden leaves glinting dully from the light of his wand.

  “It’s flooded,” Kyja whispered. “All of Land Keep is flooded. How could this happen?”

  “I don’t know about you two, but this place is giving me the creeps,” Riph Raph said, clinging to Kyja’s shoulder.

  Marcus looked up at the shadowy tree. “He’s right. Something is really wrong here. We need to get out.”

  Quickly the two of them went out the door and through the tunnel beyond. Marcus didn’t want to think about it, but the thought wouldn’t go away. “Do you think Cascade could have done this?” he asked as they turned a corner. “He does control moving water, and the Noble River isn’t far from here.”

  “No,” Kyja said at once. “He wouldn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past those water breathers,” Riph Raph said. “How can you trust someone with no emotions?”

  Marcus tried to convince himself that Kyja was right. Cascade was their friend. He’d saved their lives outside Water Keep. How could he join the Dark Circle now? But he’d never really gotten along with Lanctrus-Darnoc. Maybe this was his way of getting back at the land elementals for some argument.

  He looked over his shoulder as they started up the ramp that led out of Land Keep. “Why aren’t the land elementals doing anything about this? Why don’t they just block the river?”

  “Maybe they can’t,” Kyja said. “Maybe the water is keeping them trapped in here.”

  “Is that light up ahead?” Marcus extinguished his wand, and a dim glow illuminated the water-filled corridor. “I think it’s the end.”

  “Good thing,” Riph Raph said. “If I have to smell turnip breath much longer, I think I’ll puke.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Marcus said. “Like bug breath is anything to write home about.”

  At last, they reached the end of the tunnel. Golden sunlight filtered through the water. Kyja climbed out onto land and pulled Marcus up behind her. He flopped onto the muddy bank, taking deep breaths of fresh air. “No swamp ever smelled so good,” he said.

  “Not to mention warmth.” Kyja sighed. They stretched out on the ground, sunlight shining onto their faces. “I don’t want to touch water again for a month. Even if it means stinking like a pig.”

  “You’ll be lucky,” a voice said.

  “To live that long,” another added.

  Marcus sat up to see a pair of lizard heads watching him with glittering black eyes. One of the heads was deep purple. The other was black with green stripes. The lizards were connected to each other at the waist, and they shared a pair of green and brown wings, like a misshapen butterfly.

  “I know you,” Kyja said, sitting up. “You’re land elementals.”

  “King of the land elementals,” the purple lizard hissed, its pink tongue flickering.

  “No,” Marcus said. “We saw your king. He was half dragon, half lion.”

  “Silence!” The land elementals held up a silver scepter. The last time Marcus had seen it was in the paws of the land elemental king. “Do you recognize this?”

  “I do,” Riph Raph said. “And it doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Fools!” The black and purple heads laughed together. “The scepter belongs to those who wield it. And with it comes all power. All control.”

  “Where are the rest of the land elementals?” Kyja asked.

  One of the lizard heads laughed—a buzzing, papery sound, like wasps trying to get through a window screen. “Trapped,” the other said. “And they won’t get out. Land magic belongs to us alone. Farworld is ours. You will understand better when we deliver you to the Master of the Dark Circle.”

  “Never,” Kyja said, drawing her sword.

  Marcus raised his wand, but before he could cast a spell, the lizards swung the scepter, sending him flying through the air. Pain like he’d never imagined filled his body. It felt as if every bone had been lit on fire at once. He tried to raise his hand but found he could barely move.

  “Marcus!” Kyja screamed.

  She took a step toward him, but the lizards raised the scepter again. “Do you want a taste of what he got?” the one on the right asked. Their slit tongues licked their scaly lips.

  “Go ahead and try,” Kyja said. She ran at the lizards, blade raised.

  The lizards swung the scepter as before, but nothing happened. Kyja jabbed her blade forward, its tip biting deep into the pebbly skin of the land elementals’ right arm. Dark green blood seeped from the wound.

  “Imbecile,” the black head said to the purple head. “Don’t you remember what the Fontasian told us? She’s immune to magic.”

  Kyja stabbed again, but the land elementals knocked her away with a flap of their powerful wings. They swung the scepter again, and this time, a nearby tree ripped itself from the ground. Its roots reached out, wrapping themselves tightly around Kyja.

  “Leave her alone!” Marcus cried as she struggled against the wood, which bit into her arms and legs.

  “Immune to magic,” the purple head said with a whispery chuckle. “But not to pain.” It looked down, where dark blood pooled on the ground at its feet. “You will pay for this.”

  Marcus looked from the lizards to the bloody puddle. Something about the ground gave him an idea. He looked up. The sun was directly overhead, so while the land elementals’ blood dripped onto the ground, they didn’t cast a shadow.

  “It’s midday!” he shouted. “There’s no shadow.”

  One of the lizards turned to glare at him. The other hissed at Kyja as it raised the scepter over its head.

  Kyja looked from Marcus to the sky.

  Would she remember the note and understand?

  Comprehension flashed in her eyes. She clasped her hand to the amulet around her neck—the amulet with the same symbol burned into Marcus’s arm. But it was too late. The land elementals swung their scepter at Kyja’s face, using it like a club. Kyja turned her head and Marcus instinctively closed his eyes, unable to look at what was about to happen.

  Instead of Kyja screaming in pain, Marcus heard the land elementals howling in fear and surprise. Marcus’s eyes snapped open. The elementals’ silver scepter was lying on the ground behind them. They turned to grab it, and a familiar inside-out sensation tugged in Marcus’s stomach.

  The muddy ground he’d been lying on turned to cool asphalt. The bright sky went black. Marcus reached out with his mind and found Kyja and Riph Raph. He pulled, and suddenly Kyja was lying on the street beside him.

  A pair of headlights flashed in front of them and brakes squealed. “Get out of the road, you punks!” a man shouted, driving his truck around them.

  Beside them, a green bullfrog puffed up its throat. “Ree-deep. I really hate this. Ree-deep.”

  Marcus burst into laughter. He’d never been in so much pain in his life. He had no wheelchair. And they’d nearly been run over by a fast-food delivery truck. But they were on Earth. And they were safe. He didn’t think he’d ever felt better.

  Chapter 36

  Flying Hot Dogs

  A stroller?” Marcus said. “That’s the best you could do? Couldn’t you at least get a wagon or something? Even the grocery cart was better than this.”

  “It’s all I could find,” Kyja said. “I didn’t want to steal anything, and this was abandoned in the middle of an empty field.”

  That wasn’t surprising. After all, who would want a baby stroller with pink and blue-flowered upholstery peeling off in several places, a rusted handle, and one wheel looking like it might fall off at any minute? Not even a newborn would want to be seen in it.

  “This is humiliating,” Marcus said, as Kyja helped him climb into the seat. His legs hung over the front, nearly dr
agging on the ground and his rear could barely squeeze into the seat.

  “Not as humiliating as being turned into a green sack of skin with a tongue long enough to fly a kite,” Riph Raph croaked from the basket in the back.

  From what Marcus had been able to determine, they were in Gulfport, Mississippi. Not exactly a roaring metropolis, but at least it had a bus station. “Did you get directions?” he asked.

  With her sword and scabbard carefully hidden beneath her coat, Kyja began pushing the stroller along the cracked and lumpy sidewalk. “According to the man in the grass station, it’s on 13th Street.”

  “Gas station. Not grass station.” Marcus sighed. If they were heading for 13th Street that meant ten more blocks of embarrassment. The loose wheel had a flat spot that made a whup-whup-whup sound as they rolled along. He just hoped it wouldn’t come off. The only thing more embarrassing than being a teenage boy pushed in a baby stroller would be being a teenage boy falling out of a baby stroller into the street.

  They’d considered calling Mr. Z. After all, he’d come to Earth before. But even if the little man came, Marcus was pretty sure his racing snail couldn’t come to Earth with him. Besides, what had happened at Land Keep? Had Mr. Z known he was sending them into a trap that nearly drowned them? For now, Marcus wanted to do everything he could on his own.

  The good news was that it was nearly two a.m., and almost no one was around at this hour.

  “What happened back there?” Marcus asked. “The last thing I saw, they were about to hit you with that scepter. Then it was on the ground.”

  Kyja paused beneath a streetlight to catch her breath. “I don’t know. I was looking away. Didn’t you use some kind of magic?”

  Did I? Marcus didn’t think so. He’d been so out of it from being thrown across the field that he’d barely been able to see straight. He must have cast a spell, though. It was the only thing that could explain what happened. “Maybe.”

  Kyja started pushing again, the stroller wheel wobbling worse with each step. “Where do we go now?”

  Marcus scratched his head. “Water Keep, I guess. If Cascade isn’t at Land Keep, it’s the only place I can think to look for him.”

  Kyja nodded and continued to push. Neither of them said anything more, but Marcus was pretty sure they both had the same thoughts. Land Keep had been flooded by the Noble River. Cascade controlled all moving water—including rivers. If the Fontasians had flooded Land Keep, what might that mean for Water Keep? It was entirely possible they could be walking into a trap there as well. But where else could they go?

  “How will we pay for the bus ride?” Kyja asked. “All our money is back in Farworld. Along with all of our trill stones.”

  Money would have made the trip a lot easier. But they’d have to find a way to get to Water Keep without it. In a little over a day, the golem army would reach Terra ne Staric. They had to get to Water Keep before then and find a way to stop the attack. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Ree-deep,” Riph Raph croaked, his eyes bulging. “As I recall, the last time you arranged a bus ride, we ended up captured by the Unmakers.”

  “That’s not fair.” Kyja pushed the stroller off a curb, and the bad wheel gave an ominous fa-wang sound.

  Marcus braced himself, waiting for the stroller to fall apart. Somehow it managed to hold together as they crossed the street and rolled onto the next sidewalk. It hadn’t been his fault that the Dark Circle had set up roadblocks the last time they rode a bus. At least, not entirely. At the time, he hadn’t known any Thrathkin S’Bae were on Earth, or how good they were at tracking him and Kyja.

  If the land elementals reported seeing them, the Dark Circle’s agents could already be on the way. The only thing he could hope for was that with attacks on so many fronts, they were spread too thin to pay close attention. He ran a hand along his silver wand, vowing that this time, he’d be ready for the Thrathkin S’Bae if they did show up.

  Kyja pushed the stroller over an especially big crack, and a flare of pain shot up Marcus’s leg and into his hip. “Sorry,” Kyja said, as he hissed. “Is it bad?”

  “It’s been worse,” Marcus said. That was true, but the problem was the pain was getting worse every hour—a sure sign that Farworld wasn’t doing well. He slid around so his leg wasn’t shoved against the stroller’s frame.

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at the Gulfport bus station. By then, the stroller was swaying back and forth like a ship in a rolling sea. Much more of this ride, and Marcus was pretty sure he’d throw up. He glanced around the small building: a bored-looking clerk sitting behind the ticket window, two vending machines—one selling sodas, the other candy and chips, a fuzzy TV showing what appeared to be a Spanish-language soap opera, and a hot dog cooker slowly turning leathery Polish sausages that looked like they’d been on their metal spikes for weeks.

  The station was more crowded than he would have expected for the early hour. Two men in Army uniforms were snoring in their plastic chairs, heads thrown back. An old man who looked like he might have two healthy teeth was reading a battered paperback book. And a couple of young families were reading picture books and playing with toys to keep their kids entertained.

  Kyja stopped the stroller near a group of three women playing cards and helped Marcus climb out of the stroller. Two of the women, who looked to be in their mid-fifties—and could possibly have been sisters—glanced over at Marcus and smiled sympathetically.

  “That doesn’t look very comfortable,” one of them said.

  “Tell me about it.” Marcus rubbed his legs and tried to stretch his back.

  “Isn’t there a song about a baby stroller?” the second woman said. She hummed a tune while the first woman tried to remember the lyrics.

  “Something, something, pram. Riding along with gram.”

  The third woman, who looked about twenty years older than the other two, slapped down a card and grinned. “Skip Vicki.”

  “That’s the third time,” the first woman, who must have been Vicki, complained. “Why don’t you ever skip Anne?”

  The older woman just laughed.

  Marcus leaned toward Kyja. “Why don’t you check and see when the next bus to Chicago is due?”

  A few minutes later, she returned from the ticket counter and sat beside Marcus. “The next bus is in forty-five minutes. But the fare is over a hundred dollars a ticket.”

  “They get you right in the old keister,” the oldest woman said, pointing to her back pocket.

  “Barbara!” Anne said.

  “What? It’s highway robbery, is what it is. Why, when I was a girl, you could ride across the country and back for twenty dollars and have enough left over for Coney dogs.”

  Vicki glanced over at Kyja. “Did I hear you say you’re going to Chicago?”

  Marcus nodded, unsure of how much he dared tell. The women seemed nice enough. But adults tended to be suspicious of children traveling alone.

  “We’re going to Chicago too,” Vicki said.

  “‘Take me back to Chicago,’” the woman next to her sang.

  “What are we going to do?” Kyja asked under her breath.

  Marcus rubbed his hands on his pants and tried to smile. “We’ll figure something out.”

  Barbara played another card, said, “Skip Vicki,” and chuckled. She leaned toward Marcus and Kyja. “You know,” she whispered, “I probably shouldn’t say anything. But after the driver collects the tickets, he usually stops to have a smoke around the corner of the building. If there was some sort of diversion, a couple of quick children might be able to slip past the ticket taker onto the back of the bus without being noticed.”

  Anne looked shocked. “That’s illegal.”

  “It’s not like the bus isn’t going there anyway, is it?” Barbara said.

  Vicki smiled and nodded toward the older woman. “Mom always was a bit of a rebel. But she’s right. Do you think you could create a diversion?”

  Marcus grinned and ran
a finger along his wand. “I think I might be able to.”

  Almost exactly forty-five minutes later, the bus pulled up in front of the station. “Express 474, with stops in Jackson, Memphis, and Chicago,” the ticket taker called over the speakers.

  The three women gathered their cards. “Go get ’em,” Barbara said.

  Vicki gave Marcus a smile that made him wish she were his mother. “Good luck.”

  “What now?” Kyja asked. The ticket taker glanced in their direction.

  “Walk out the door, like you’re waiting for someone,” Marcus said. “Don’t get close enough to the bus to make him suspicious. But be ready to move.”

  Kyja picked up Riph Raph and stuck him in her coat pocket. “Ew,” he said. “It’s still wet in here.”

  “You should like that,” Marcus said evilly. “Frogs like wet places.”

  Sure enough, as soon as the bus driver checked the women’s tickets, he took a quick look about the station, unzipped his jacket, and disappeared around the corner. As soon as he did, Marcus checked the ticket counter. The clerk was completely focused on a portable TV. Marcus was just thinking he might be able to sneak by without any diversion at all, when the two soldiers walked toward the bus, and the ticket clerk looked up from his TV.

  Marcus pointed his wand at the soda machine. The big metal box rumbled, clunked, and a soda popped out of the bottom, rolling halfway across the station floor. The clerk glanced at the old man first, then at Marcus.

  The old man eyed the soda. Marcus held up his hands and shook his head as if to say, Weird, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.

  When the clerk didn’t do anything about the soda machine, Marcus waved his wand again. This time, the candy machine buzzed. Its lights blinked on and off. The clerk turned off his television, opened the door to his office, and came out. As the man approached the vending machines, Marcus waved his wand again. Another soda can flew out, and the clerk had to dodge to avoid getting hit. The candy machine buzzed even louder. Two candy bars dropped from their slots, and a bag of chips exploded, sending Cool Ranch Doritos everywhere.