The Complete Four Worlds Series

by Angela J. Ford

Phyllis sought the cave entrance, hoping to see the second beast. “It sounds like Roturk, my baby dranagin.” She bit her lip in concern. “He’s not big enough to fight a full-grown beast.”

  “If he distracts it, we have time to find it,” Ilieus replied. She got to her knees; she was suddenly exhausted now that they had arrived. “We should search the cave before the dranagin returns.”

  Phyllis nodded, tears springing unbidden to her eyes as she thought of Roturk facing the beast alone. Wiping soot on her dress, she stood and recoiled in horror as she brushed against a pile of bones. They fell, one by one, across the cave floor; the noise of them striking the ground sounded ominous while the dranagins roared. Ilieus reached out a hand; it was shaking. “Come on,” she whispered. “We are close.”

  They continued into the depths of the cave, where the air was close and smelled of mold and rot. Water dripped in the distance, and they walked toward the sound, unconsciously letting their thirst lead them. The cave walls narrowed as they walked, and the ceiling sloped lower until they came to a place where it would be impossible for the dranagin to follow them. The noise from the battle between the two dranagins disappeared, and they found themselves walking down into a shallow chamber.

  Water dripped out of the cavern walls into a pool; each drop caused a ripple that echoed across the room. The jewels disappeared, and the room was bare, except for something silver, which was reflected in the pool. Yet when Phyllis searched the chamber, she could not find anything silver. Dirty and grimy, Phyllis and Ilieus crept hesitantly toward the pool, kneeling and leaning forward to dip their faces into the cool waters. As they drank deeply and the waters flowed into their bellies, Phyllis felt the change. Each sip she swallowed traveled through her body as if the waters were alive. She could feel it making her stronger and forcing her to stand. But as she stood, she backed away from what she saw and heard. Ilieus stood in the middle of the chamber with her head thrown back and her nostrils wide, and she stared vacantly into nothingness. Her lips moved, and the words to the scroll spilled out:

  “The eyes of the jeweled ones will see it first.

  Hidden in the boughs in the forests of the north

  Among the evergreen where the midlands dance.

  Beware the blended, exiled ones.

  Past the death the Marshswamps brings,

  Hidden in rock the sunlight dares not part,

  Beyond the green havens of the creatures of the wood,

  Neither friend nor foe guards the keep,

  A horse of silver and winged with power,

  Keeping watch over the end of days.

  There you seek, and you shall find

  All you dream and fear and more.

  The death and life of all awaits.

  Seek, and ye shall find.

  Find, and ye shall perish.

  Perish, and ye shall live.”

  As the last words dropped from her lips, her gaze caught Phyllis’s, and she smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile—one of those that can be captured on a perfect day when you are surrounded by those you love. She lifted her arms, and she was gone.

  62

  Visions

  Ilieus lifted her hands, and the vision she feared the most, the one that turned her nightmares into episodes of frantic fright, flowed into reality. White fingers reached for her, yet this time they were not vicious and unfriendly. The curved white teeth she’d caught glimpses of were the stagnant crystals at the entrance of the cave. The fingers were cold as they touched her face, reached for her neck, peeled back all who she was, and stole her physical form. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, unable to watch as the bright white light grew more intense. It swept around her like a windstorm, and reaching out with her fingertips, she could feel the lightness that folded around her like an embrace. Voices hummed in her head, speaking that unusual tongue, stilling her frightened heartbeat, and soothing her fears.

  “It is you,” she whispered when she saw it, even with her eyes closed.

  “Come,” the voice said. “It is time to enter the beyond.”

  As her soul forsook her body, she saw a dozen visions of past, present, and future come alive before her. In the Western World, a great war was waged in the midst of a rich red canyon. Transformed creatures of the ground battled against great warriors, and there was one golden-haired one who slightly resembled Tharmaren the Wise. She saw the flight of the Tider into the waterfalls at the bottom of the canyon, capturing the shadow that sought to flee.

  The visions danced, and before her rose a world twice as large as the Eastern World. She saw a green stone tossed into the air. Light curled like a bud unfolding, springing out to meet the first breath of light. Beautiful would be too common of a word to explain its brilliance, casting all shadows from its presence. Within it power danced, bursting to be let out.

  Three dark shadows rose and began a great search, reaping the people of the world. The sun set, allowing the world to be covered with darkness. Across the land there were only fifteen points of bright white that flickered from shadow to shadow, hiding from the reign of terror.

  At last, the Eastern World rose before her, and she saw a great ship drop out of the sky, leaving the Murwumps to find their way through the forest. Many of them were burned by the dranagin until a horned shadow showed them the way underground and how to harvest the elements of the Eastern World. She could see her sister, Phyllis, running, and, suddenly, she knew how it would all end.

  Ilieus opened her eyes. Even before the light receded, she knew her vision was now the present. Her breath was gone, and her body was alone. Cold. Still. Lifeless. Then her soul was whisked from that place, and a great many hands reached out to welcome her home.

  63

  Tears

  Tears were the first things Phyllis was cognizant of as she watched. Her mouth was open in a silent scream; she held out one hand, reaching for Ilieus, while pressing the other over her mouth. She felt like a stone statue observing the events of another life, yet she knew it was happening to herself, and she did not want to believe it.

  Ilieus lifted up her hands, and Phyllis saw her soul leave her body, and her flesh began to transform. First, every inch of her body, starting with her head, including her eyes, and flowing down to her toes, turned pure white as snow. Then she began to melt, turning clear as crystal. As she did so, her body disappeared, and a white horse took her place. It shook its mane as it transformed, stomping its hooves against the ground. It stood taller than six hands, and as it grew, it turned to face Phyllis and spoke. “I have come to you in a time of great need. Use me well.”

  Phyllis stared, unwilling to believe what she was seeing. “Where is my sister?” she demanded, her voice shrill. “What have you done with her?”

  “Ilieus is gone. Yet she is here. She was a vessel for me during the time I lay dormant. But she is here, and she is with you. Search your memory. You will find her.”

  Phyllis shook her head, disbelieving, as she sank to the floor of the chamber. “Where is my sister?” she screamed. She struck the ground and then struck it again as she wailed over and over. “What have you done? Where is she?”

  The white horse faded before Phyllis, the last words it spoke echoing in the chamber. “Search your memory. You will find her.”

  A crystal, winged horse perched on the edge of the pool, and Phyllis lay down and sobbed as her world dissolved, her heart broke, and all she thought she knew ended.

  64

  Pain

  Phyllis ran. Silent tears of fury streamed down her face. She felt like she had been tricked. She questioned whether grandmother had known all along who and what Ilieus was and had said nothing. Instead, she had sent them on an impossible quest without telling them the whole truth about who they were. Just as the white horse had said, as soon as she searched her visions for truth, she found them and wished they were lies.

  Long ago, her grandmother, Odella the Tall, had been born into the family line of Watchers. At that time, there was a
strange occurrence in the sky, and members of the Watchers were sent to discover whether those happenings would have an impact on their world. It was then they discovered that Tharmaren the Wise had appeared in the Eastern World, left there by strange beings who quickly hid themselves in the North Forests. Prior to their arrival, a white streak had been seen in the skies; it was also said to have disappeared in the North Forests. The signs agreed; there were strange creatures in the North Forests who might bring danger to the Eastern World.

  Many had taken up the quest of finding the truth, but Odella the Tall was the first to go into the woods and the first to leave with knowledge and a token of power. She hid herself with the Trazames of Nungus Des-Lista for a time until she was ready to undertake her life’s great work. Seeing the future, she waited a lifetime until the double children, her very own grandchildren, were born. There was one of vision and one of strength, and the one with vision would have the knowledge, while the one of strength would wield one of the greatest powers in the world. When she looked into their future, she found their fate was tied to the Great Clyear of Power. One was the vessel. The other its keeper.

  This was the truth Phyllis knew as she ran through the cave, stumbling on bones and jewels, yet relentless in her quest. In her hands, she held the Great Clyear of Power, spoken of in tales of old, and she knew exactly what to do.

  When she reached the entrance, she was almost surprised to see daylight streaming into it. It seemed she had spent an age in the bowels of the cavern, yet she could hear the great beasts above her, roaring in flight. Their features were indistinct as they wheeled over Oceantic, hurling insults instead of ripping each other apart as other beasts did. Taking her chances, Phyllis continued to run, out through the opening to the crest of the great hill. She stumbled when she reached the top; her footing came loose as she pitched forward over the sand and ash and rolled down the hill. With one hand grasping at the Clyear, she used the other to reach for something to break her fall. Her fingers caught on a stick, and she leaned against it, gasping for air as her bruised and battered body came to a stop. She paused for a moment before she remembered her sister disappearing again. Rage welled up within her. She rose and pushed forward.

  She ran through sand, ash, and the burnt forest, back toward the tunnels where the Murwumps dwelt and back toward the prison they had created, where she had left her friends. Even as she ran, she heard the roaring of Oceantic, the cries of the dranagins, and a lone flute playing far away. It played a funeral song on an endless loop, and now she understood why. One by one, the quest took away all she loved. First, there was Mother; second, there was Father; lastly, there was her sister. She was alone now, and there was only one thing left to do now that she had no one to care for. Save the world. If they hurt her, she would hurt them back; she would make them feel the pain; she would make them suffer until they knew what they had done to her and how she felt about it. They would feel her pain. They would feel it to the extreme, and that pain would have a lasting effect.

  She ignored her rasping breath, the pain in her legs, and the spots that were starting to dance in her vision. She heard them calling her name, but she was past caring at that point. She dove into the tunnels, twisting down the dark paths from whence she had escaped hours earlier. She could hear the creatures in an uproar as she entered. Red eyes and pointed black ears swarmed before her, but it was as if she were invincible as she walked through them to the room full of explosives. She lifted the Clyear high and spoke in a language she had never uttered before, her voice ringing through the tunnels and vibrating through the depths.

  At first, there was silence, but then the explosives began to glow and rattle, and suddenly the ground began to shake. Phyllis put her arms down, knowing it was the end; all she needed to do was wait. The words rose up before them, and she whispered them as the tunnels shifted and caved in.

  The forest will tell you truth.

  The trees will give you knowledge.

  In exchange for one terrible price,

  They will tell you all you wish to know.

  Why the world fades.

  Why the end is near.

  There’s something you can do

  If only you can escape.

  Beware. Be warned.

  The price you pay is death.

  The adrenaline from her run began to fade, and the misery of her life rose before her. Once again, tears of fury rose unbidden, and she heard the shouts of the Murwumps as they began to realize what was happening.

  “What’s this?”

  “Bright and glowing, this should not be happening. Help!”

  “What now?”

  “The explosives are glowing; they are going to…”

  “Going to what?”

  “Going to explode.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Turn them off!”

  “We don’t know how!”

  “Get help!”

  “That’s what I’m asking you for!”

  A great many voices began shouting, and a stampede of creatures sought to escape, running here and there. Phyllis felt someone grab her. A familiar voice whispered in her ear: “Come with us. Run!”

  Black dots danced past her eyes as she forced her feet to take flight again, despite the pain as they cried out against movement.

  The hum of the explosives increased, turning into a vibration because Phyllis had managed to set off all the ones that were scattered underground.

  Murwumps shrieked and cried, giving orders to each other as, one by one, they started to deactivate the explosives. But there were far too many explosives and far too few Murwumps.

  Phyllis reached the tunnel and realized she held Pharengon’s hand. He called to her as they climbed, but she couldn’t hear what he said, for a terrible wailing filled the air. It ripped through her ears like a child whose mother was ripped away by the elements. The ground shook and crumbled, falling apart with every footstep. Just as she saw pure light, starlight, the ground was ripped from under her feet, and she was thrown, blasted from the underground into the remains of the forest.

  65

  The Ruler

  Sarhorr the Changer paused as he opened the portal to return to the South World. A terrible explosion was ripping through the Eastern World, but it was not above ground as he had instructed the Murwumps. It seemed to have destroyed the marshes, their underworld. He almost laughed as he listened to the shrieks of agony.

  Now he knew that the mortals of the Eastern World were just as strong as the mortals of the Western World. Even though he’d been secretive with his methods, this project was only a test. He had everything he needed to set his grand scheme in motion. Best of all, his brother and sister would finally trust him.

  The portal flew open, inviting him through. He took a step through and closed it behind him as easily as he would close a door. As he did, he sighed with one regret: if only he hadn’t had to use his first daughter as collateral in the deadly game he played. It was necessary; for little did the mortals know, he was only getting started.

  66

  Healing

  Phyllis coughed as she woke, the taste of smoke lay heavy in the air. The buzzing sensation of pain slammed into her head as she opened her eyes. Ignoring it, she forced herself to sit up, surprised and disappointed to find herself still alive. The blast should have destroyed everything. What if some of the Murwumps had escaped? Above her, bare trees rose high; their branches were twisted, broken, and stripped clear of any sign of life.

  Pharengon stood to her left, watching the quiet wood. He turned at her movements and came to crouch before her. “Phyllis, you’re awake,” his voice sighed, indicating he was as weary as she felt.

  His hair was disheveled and swept back from his grimy face. Soot and ash covered his clothing, and she could see places where they were ripped. His cloak was gone, but strapped around his waist was the Jeweled Sword. She lifted her eyes to meet his and saw, flickering behind them, questions and the k
een awareness of what she had lost.

  “How are we alive?” she asked, grabbing her throat as pain ripped through it.

  He reached out a finger and stroked her cheek. “There was a light.” He shrugged, looking past her for a moment, his eyes unseeing. “You had…” He met her eyes, unsure of how much he should say. “How are you feeling?”

  She shook her head; the sharp, tingling pain made her wish she hadn’t. “I…what have I done?” she whispered.

  He moved to sit beside her, gently placing an arm around her shoulders. “You saved us all,” he murmured.

  “But I lost everything.” She bit her lip, turning to hide her face in his shoulder, allowing the tears to flow once more. In response, he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder, hushing her as he stroked her mattered hair.

  Cuthan stumbled through the charred ground with Artenvox at his side. His feet were bare, and the ash was still warm, singeing the bottom of his feet with each step. His arm was broken, and even though Artenvox had set it with splintered wood and his shirt, it still pained him with each step he took. He gritted his teeth and bore it, knowing it could be worse. It hurt too much to speak, but he was curious about what happened to Phyllis and Ilieus. If he had to guess, it seemed Phyllis had found the power they were searching for, but where was Ilieus? He stumbled, jarring his arm. Everyone was finding their power sources. Pharengon had the Jeweled Sword; Artenvox had found his sapphire ring, and Phyllis, supposedly, had the Clyear of Power. When would he find his jewel and reach his destiny?

  “Aye!” Artenvox called from ahead. He was limping and covered in sand and mud just like Cuthan. “I think I see Thangone ahead. Thangone?” he shouted, his hoarse voice giving out just at the end.