Keystone (Gatewalkers) Page 5

  ***

  A large ball of pink light shot out of the tall grass straight for Charlie’s face. Startled, Charlie automatically slapped it away, sending it tumbling.

  “That wasn’t very nice!” said a small male voice. “Especially since we went through all the trouble of finding you and bringing you here.”

  A palm-tall boy appeared before her on the sandy ground, a glare on his tiny face and a green plastic sword in his hand, pointed at Charlie. “What have you to say for yourself, human?”

  “I thought brownies were brown,” Charlie said.

  The boy gave a derisive sniff and rested his sword on his shoulder. “I thought a real hero would know a pixie when she saw one. Though I suppose it is good to see that you did not die when crossing through the Great Gate.”

  “Of course she did not die.” The pink light was back. “She’s been through hundreds of gates, and slain dragons and all other manner of creatures. I heard her speaking of them. She is Seinne Sonne’s true hero.”

  The turquoise haired pixie didn’t seem convinced.

  “Welcome to Seinne Sonne. Call me Lallia,” the pink pixie said, fluttering to hover before Charlie’s face, apparently having forgiven her for the slap. “Are you ready to save princess Maelyn?”

  “You can’t expect her to save the princess with her bare hands,” the boy pointed out. “Call me Tom, by the way,” he added to Charlie.

  Lallia buzzed in irritation. “Of course I don’t expect her to save Maelyn with her bare hands. Not alone, either. That’s why we’re going to Alta first.” She pointed downward of the sandy hill.

  “Alta?” Tom said. “Why would we want to go to Alta? The Keystone was stolen from the palace vaults. We need to go this way,” he pointed inland, ”to Iomara.”

  “No, we need to go to Alta,” Lallia said. “Trust me.”

  “Where is Alta,” Charlie said. It sounded like as good a starting point as any. Two pixies have requested to join your party, she thought. Request accepted.

  “Right over the hill down the coast,” Lallia said.

  Lallia started drawing in the air, a little pink streamer of light following her finger as she created a shape something like a ragged edged gibbous moon. She drew a ragged circle roughly in the middle, leaning toward the right side, with a squiggle that trailed upward and off to the left side. “This is the kingdom of Seinne Sonne.”

  She pointed at the circle in the middle. “This is Iomara and Sonne Lake.” Her finger followed the scribble coming off the lake. “This is the Great River, and Alta is right here, where the river meets the ocean.” She indicated a little cove just above where the river met the edge of her drawing. Her finger indicated the space to the left and down of her drawing. “South of Seinne Sonne is the Black Forest. No one goes there if they want to live. North is nothing but mountains and snow.”

  “All right, if we’re so close to Alta anyway, why don’t we start there, and then catch a ride upriver to Iomara. Sound reasonable?” She looked at Tom.

  Tom grudgingly nodded. “I still do not see why we need to go to Alta.”

  “Trust me,” Lallia said again, this time smugly. She waved her air map away.

  The road Lallia led them to wound over the hill and down toward the walled town.

  The detail that went into designing the town was pure awesomeness. The castle really looked as if it had been standing on its reinforced hill for centuries, collecting cracks and moss. The architecture looked appropriately medieval, with most of the buildings two stories at best, tiny thatch roofed hovels at worst. There were a few standard wattle and daub buildings, but the bulk of them were actually stone. Probably implying that there was a quarry nearby, or it was just plain the most available building material.

  The wooden docks projecting out into the harbor crawled with people, and beyond them the harbor bristled with masts, spars, ropes, and sails. Smaller vessels out on the water were probably fishing vessels, and judging from the breeze laden with rotting fish, the fishing was probably good.

  “Now can you tell us why you insisted we come to Alta?” Tom said, materializing on Charlie’s shoulder. He settled in cross legged, holding Charlie’s collar for balance. His phantom weight felt strange.

  Lallia fluttered up and settled on her other shoulder. “Not yet. Wait until we get into the city.”

  “Well, come on, feet,” Charlie muttered, and started down toward the gates in the wall. “How about you guys give me some background on this quest,” she said. “And how this world works, so I am not completely lost.”

  She felt Lallia shift slightly on her shoulder.

  “All right,” Lallia said, with the air of one contemplating where to begin a long story. She daintily cleared her throat and straightened her back until she perched primly on the slope of Charlie’s shoulder. “Long, long ago, before Ard Ri released the Nightmares from their dark and fiery realm –”

  “Oh, you’ve gotten her started,” Tom moaned.

  Lallia hissed at him. “She needs the whole story, so I’m going to tell it properly.” She pointedly cleared her throat again. “Before Ard Ri released the Nightmares from their dark and fiery realm, High King Gwalchmai ruled in peace and prosperity over all of Seinne Sonne.”

  “It was even before we were made,” Tom said, “so you know it had to be a long time ago.”

  Lallia continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “But an evil grew in hiding. No one remembers where he came from, hidden in the mists of time, but Ard Ri rose up and opened the Great Gates to the Nightmare Realms, releasing all manner of creatures to over sweep the land, leaving devastation in their wake. Thus the Nightmare Wars began. High King Gwalchmai brought his armies against them, but there seemed to be no end to the red tide, and Seinne Sonne’s fields were washed in blood.

  “To preserve Seinne Sonne and what remained of his people, High King Gwalchmai took the Keystone and in his dying breath sealed all of the Great Gates closed, trapping Ard Ri and his armies in the Nightmare Realms forever.”

  “Not forever,” Tom corrected. “Only so long as the seal on the Gates holds.”

  “For as long as the seal holds,” Lallia said. “Which was supposed to be forever.”

  “For as long as Gwalchmai’s bloodline holds the throne and the Keystone,” Tom interjected again. “But the Great Gates are opening up again.”

  “That’s how we came to find you,” Lallia said. “We found an open Gate and it brought us to your world.”

  “So we could find a hero to save Princess Maelyn and find the Keystone. We can only hope that you’re the one.”

  “What does the Princess have to do with this?” Charlie said before Lallia could get into a fresh tiff.

  “Princess Maelyn and High King Edouard are the last remnants of High King Gwalchmai’s bloodline,” Tom said. “King Edouard and Princess Maelyn are tied to the Keystone in a way no one else could be. They are the only ones who can control the Keystone and use it to close the Great Gates before it is too late.”

  “Why can’t King Edouard do anything about it?” Charlie said.

  Tom’s black eyes grew large as dimes. “Put the last High King of Gwalchmai’s blood in mortal danger? If both he and Maelyn were killed, then all would be lost.”

  “I shouldn’t be surprised it the Council has the poor man locked in a vault,” Lallia said in sympathy.

  “I’m guessing someone is trying to free Ard Ri?” Charlie said.

  “Let us hope not,” Tom said solemnly.

  Make that a “yes.” Charlie mentally noted “Ard Ri = Boss Monster.” “If this bloodline is so important, why are there only two of them left?”

  “Two generations ago,” Tom said, “High King Tolencal hunted down and killed all the other branches of Gwalchmai’s line to protect the Keystone.”

  “Awful bloodthirsty way to do it,” Charlie commented. She felt Lallia hopping with barely restrained glee.

  “Yes,” Lallia said, “but such attempts have been made before,
and all failed to eradicate all other branches.”

  Tom leaned forward to peer suspiciously around Charlie’s neck. “Do you know something I don’t?” he said, as if it were the worst betrayal in the world.

  “Maaaaybe,” Lallia said maddeningly.

  “Is this why you wanted to come to Alta?” Charlie said.

  “Maaaaaaybe,” Lallia said. Make that a “yes.” So they were finding someone else from Gwalchmai’s bloodline that King Tolencal didn’t manage to kill. Your mission, should you choose to accept it….

  The temperature cooled slightly as they passed into the shadow of the walls. The spear wielding guards stared at her as she approached. It wasn’t like she was the only one on the road. More walkers and several ox drawn wagons trundled their way toward the gates. Then again none of them wore khakis, sneakers, and a black light t-shirt. But the guards let her through without demanding to know her business or questioning her sanity.

  “Ok, Lallia, where are we going?” Charlie said, settling her hands on her hips as she surveyed the branching roads. Every passer by seemed to give her a questioning eye.

  Lallia tugged on a lock of Charlie’s hair. “That way,” she said, pointing down one of the branches of the street.

  Charlie did a little staring of her own as they walked down the street. The majority of the people she saw had pointed ears and the natural range of skin and hair color, but some had green skin or scales. A few had catlike or wolflike features and were covered with fur. Once there was a diminutive green skinned couple with squished faces that had to be gnomes of some kind, and Charlie could swear she caught a glimpse of a halfling. Conspicuous in their absence were swarthy, long bearded dwarves and, oddly enough, humans. Charlie stuck out like a sore thumb as the noob who didn’t know how to change her clothes yet much less her race.

  Lallia tugged Charlie’s hair. “There it is.” She pointed. “Rosethorn Manor.”

  ***

  The “manor” was a three story stone house with a wraparound porch twined with morning glories. A low stone fence in sad disrepair surrounded an overgrown yard that might once have been a neatly tended garden. Weeds had largely taken over, save for a few aggressive rose briars. Someone had once put a lot of care into carving the porch’s woodwork, but it had been a long time since it had been repainted, and some of the railing spindles were missing. The boards of the porch were weather worn to the point of separating from their fellows, and age-gray shutters locked fast over the windows, closing out the world.

  “You sure this is the place?” Charlie said doubtfully. “It looks abandoned.”

  “This is where he lives,” Lallia confirmed.

  Charlie could have stepped through the gap in the wall, but instead gingerly pushed open the brittle, termite-chewed front gate and picked her way up the crumbling path to the porch. An inquisitive cardinal alighted on the railing, eyeing them curiously before flitting away again.

  “What’s this guy’s name, by the way?” Charlie said, glancing down at the pixies.

  “He is called Rhys,” Lallia said. “Oh, and whatever you say, do not mention his bloodline. He… he’s a bit sensitive about it.”

  “He’s just going to up and join us?” Charlie said dubiously. She rocked back and forth on her heels, feeling the soft spot under her left foot giving way slightly.

  Lallia did not answer right away.

  “Lallia.” Charlie prodded her with a fingertip. “He will be ok with joining us, right?”

  “He… might need some persuading,” Lallia said, squirming.

  “How much persuading?” Charlie said suspiciously.

  Lallia shrugged and hopped off Charlie’s shoulder to peer through the cracks in the shutters.

  Quest: persuade “Rhys” to join the party.

  Charlie knocked as loud as she dared, half afraid the door would splinter under her hand. Even the little fan-shaped glass window set in the door was boarded over. She waited a while, but heard nothing from inside. Knocking again got no answer.

  “Tom,” Charlie said. “Can you go in and see if anyone is there at all?”

  Tom dematerialized.

  Charlie tried knocking on the door again for good measure. The door opened a crack.

  “Hello?” Charlie called, pushing it open a little wider. It was pitch black inside, the only light coming from the doorway.

  Tom poked his head around the side of the door. “I think someone is in the basement. Careful. It is dark in here.”

  As Charlie stepped inside, the briny fish smell of the town was replaced by a wall of herbal/floral/God only knew what, overlaid by closed in staleness and the musty smell of old that she associated with her grandmother’s basement.

  “Hello?” Charlie called again. The light from the doorway illuminated flagstone floors covered in a thick layer of dust, and an empty bookshelf decorated with cobwebs. The floor dust showed several layers of footprints leading into the darkness, including Tom’s fresh, tiny prints. Some of the footprints were obviously old, but some might have been fresher. Maybe there was someone here after all.

  Lallia flew past Charlie into the little foyer. Her pink glow revealed that the foyer opened up into a living space on the left, its windows covered with thick black curtains. The footprints in the dust led to a door in the wall to the right.

  Charlie stepped all the way inside, but didn’t close the door. “Don’t mess with stuff,” she admonished the pixies, who had started investigating the few pieces of furniture in the living room.

  Charlie pulled open the door on the right. She started to ask Lallia to go in and light things up a bit, but Lallia beat her to it.

  This room was rounded, with a table and two chairs, a few dusty plates and spider-webbed goblets. A deeper gloom showed where the room connected to another, and two dark squares marked doors. There was one curtained window. Charlie went over to it and pulled the curtains aside, allowing a few cracks of light to get in. The dark opening turned out be a staircase, curving upward to the second floor.

  The footprints disappeared beneath one of the doors. A few tracks branched off to go up the stairs, but those looked old.

  “Through the mysterious door of doom it is,” Charlie muttered. Charlie opened the door, revealing a narrow, descending stone staircase. A faint light flickered at the bottom. The cloying herbal/floral smell redoubled, nearly choking her. It drowned out the staleness of the air.

  “Hello?” Charlie called. She felt a little stupid saying the same thing over and over again and still getting no answer.

  Lallia fluttered down the stairs and out of sight. Charlie followed more cautiously, Tom materializing on her shoulder.

  The bottom of the staircase opened into a room that explained the smell. The place looked like a cross between an apothecary and an alchemist’s lab, with tables of odd apparatuses and strange concoctions. The light came from the flames heating brewing potions, and a low-burning fire in the fireplace at the far end of the room. Dried and drying herbs of all colors and forms hung in bundles from the ceiling. Cabinets and bookshelves lined the walls, some holding books but most containing rows of neatly labeled bottles, vials, and jars of varying sizes.

  Charlie still didn’t see anyone, but the place was so full of deep shadows they could hide the boogeyman. Come to think of it, where had Lallia disappeared to?

  “Is anyone here?” she added to change things up. Charlie stepped into the room, peering into the spaces she couldn’t see as well. The fires were another indicator that someone was here, but unless he was invisible –

  “What are you doing?” a voice growled out of the darkness behind her.

  Charlie jumped and spun around, Tom’s startled squeal ringing in her ear. Pale hair, pale skin, pale shirt, a tall male figure emerged out of the shadows like a ghost. Even his eyes seemed colorless.

  “You didn’t answer the door,” Charlie said.

  “Really?” he said sardonically. The man – Rhys, she assumed – advanced until he loomed over h
er. Tom cowered into Charlie’s neck. The light still was not strong enough to show Rhys’ features. He leaned in less than a foot from her face. “Go back to the village brats and brag of how brave you are.”

  Charlie refused to back down, keeping her expression coolly neutral. “I’m not here on some dare,” she said. “I am here to recruit you.”

  “Recruit me?” Rhys snorted. He vanished back into the shadows. “For what? If this is a contract job, you may hire a free lance through the Alta Mercenary Guild. I do not do private jobs.”

  Something about that last statement caught Charlie’s ear. Squinting, she spied his pale form in the darkness, bent over one of the tables.

  “My source assures me that you would be interested in this particular private job, Rhys,” Charlie said, banking that 1) knowing his name would earn her points, and 2) that it actually was Rhys, not a random person living in his basement.

  Rhys cocked his head, looking back at her, his posture subtly changing. She had his attention. “Who is your source?”

  “Someone who knows you better than I do,” Charlie said honestly. She certainly was not about to mention that her source was a pixie. A missing pixie.

  “Who would you be, then?” he said. “Since your source has told you of me.”

  “Charlie,” she said, lifting her chin slightly, “of the Order of the Lady Dragons.” Of doom, she mentally added.

  “Charlie?” he said. “A strange name to accompany your strange garb. Is that the crest of the Lady Dragons on your tunic?”

  Charlie glanced down at the ‘cade logo on the front of her shirt. “No. It’s the crest of Lord Stinkwad.” She hoped to heaven Eliza wasn’t watching the monitors. The customers might be concerned for her sanity if she suddenly cracked up laughing.

  There was a long pause in which Charlie seriously wished the lights were brighter so she could read Rhys’ face. “I know naught of such a lord, nor of the Lady Dragons,” he said, voice thick with suspicion.

  “We aren’t exactly locals. You know, you could see better if you had more lights in here,” Charlie ventured.

  “I like the dark,” Rhys replied.