Page 38 of Heart of the Shadow King

I ride Knar up to an outcropping above the town to observe as the riders form up along the banks of the river. My heart is heavy. Not long ago, Durgorim was a prosperous town. The nearest settlement to the Between Gate, it served as a point of congress between our world and others. Under the leadership of Lady Xag, it was a jewel of my kingdom. Now it is a crumbling ruin of phantom memories. I can almost hear the screams of the townsfolk who fell prey toraogpoison. I can almost see their frenzied bodies hurtling through the streets, driven by rage and despair. A great chasm opened in the center of their town, and they cast themselves and their children into it, desperate to escape their pain.

The poison has long since dispersed. But I make my riders wear theirmiraisismasks as a precaution. They look like strange monsters on the backs of their dark steeds, eyes wide and pale above the long, pointed beaks. Lady Parh refuses to wear hers as she guides her morleth up to the outcropping where I wait. Her face is so hard, so set in stone, it’s difficult to imagineraoghaving any effect on her.

I tip an eyebrow as she draws near. “No, mask, Parh?”

“I hate the stink ofmiraisis,” she growls.

“You’ll hate the stink ofraogmore.”

She makes a face which expresses her derision more eloquently than words and pulls her morleth up beside mine. When I ask if the riders are ready, she grunts. It’s as good an acknowledgement as any. I turn Knar’s ugly head about and ride on up the incline, into the forest above Durgorim. Since the last time I was here, many of the towering mushrooms have been crushed under falling stones. Where once this forest pulsed with the life-light, now there is nothing but a dull, sickly glow. Yet another of the Under Realm’s natural beauties destroyed.

The tall arch of the Between Gate comes into sight at last. I breathe a sigh of relief. At least it has not been crushed. While there are other gates across my kingdom leading from this world into others, this is our quickest route to the human world. I beckon to one of my lieutenants. He dismounts and stomps heavily to the dial, grunting as he turns it.

“What is your plan, Your Majesty?” Parh asks as we watch the stone-hided warrior heave at the resistant mechanism. She looks back at the long line of masked riders stretching behind us through the forest. “Will you send them over all at once?”

I shake my head. “Lur and Wrag will join me as I cross over first and speak to Larongar. When I send word, you will lead the rest through.”

Parh grunts. “I don’t like it. You are king; I am your minister of war. Let me go first.”

If I trusted her, I might. As it is, I don’t dare send her through and let her decimate the alliance with a few choice words and, most likely, sword strokes. Besides, Theodre’s message was clear: Larongar awaits me on the far side of this gate. He expects to see me, not some “great troll slab,” as the crown prince so colorfully put it. While I may not care for the pejorative, it is a rather apt description of my war minister.

“No, Parh,” I say firmly. “I will speak to the human king. You will remain here and await my summons.”

Parh growls, but signals for her aide and grinds out orders to be carried back to the squad commanders. I beckon Lur and Wrag to my side. It’s not the same as being flanked by Hael and Sul, and I feel the lack of my brother and best friend keenly. But these two riders have been my loyal companions through many an adventure. I trust them. Which is more than I can say for Parh.

The gate dial grinds to a halt. The air beneath the arch shimmers as the veils between worlds thin. A blast of wind whips through the opening, wafting across my face. I grimace. Human air is so stale and deadening. Their world is located too far from thequinsatra,the source of all magic, and their atmosphere feels thin to those born of Eledria. Still, by arts and secret means, mortal mages have learned to draw and channel magic on a scale beyond the imagining of fae-kind. Mortals may be fragile and rather short-lived, but they are formidable in their own right.

The swirling under the arch begins to clarify, offering a murky glimpse of the landscape on the far side. I set my shoulders. “Ready yourselves!” I bark and urge Knar through.

To step from one reality and speed through innumerable others is like submitting oneself to a thousand razor-edged blades, each of which cuts away a tiny portion of your existence. Your essence is then reassembled on the far side with a million tiny silver pins. It hurts. But I’m used to it.

What I am not used to, however, is the absolute shock of finding myself emerging once more under that arc of terrible sky. The glare of the hideous orb star which illuminates this world blasts my eyeballs. My innards tumble, my whole body braced to lose my grip on Knar’s saddle and fall up and up and up into that endless blue void. It wouldn’t be so bad if there were at least some cover. Instead, the Between Gate opens onto a wide open plain. There is no shelter to be had save for the gate itself and the wall which extends on either side of it as far as the eye can see. Otherwise, the world is featureless save for a distant haze of mountains on the horizon.

I shudder as Lur and Wrag emerge behind me. The last two times I came this way, we arrived at nightfall. The dark, star-filled sky of this world is reminiscent oflorststones gleaming from the cavern ceiling back home, offering a modicum of comfort to troldish sensibilities. This arch of blue and that single blazing star, however, are enough to drive even the most rational man mad. No wonder humans all seem to exist on the brink of insanity.

I take a moment to let my body adjust. Knar growls and tosses his head, snorting sulfur. The glare of direct sunlight is too much for him; he can scarcely hold onto existence here. Hastily, I dismount and let the poor beast snap out of this world back into his own dimension. He’ll return at my summons after nightfall. Lur and Wrag follow my lead, allowing their morleth to vanish as well. Then the three of us turn to face the small party approaching through the glare. I can see little but pick up a faint impression of an encampment close by.

“Larongar!” I call out and raise a hand in salute. “I have come to honor our bargain.”

The foremost of the hazy figures draws to a stop a few paces away from me. My dazzled vision begins to adapt, and I discern the rough, bear-like form of Larongar Cyhorn. His one good eye studies me cautiously, but I fix my gaze on his empty eye-socket instead. He is on horseback and swells his chest as though trying to intimidate me from his lofty height. “Well, my son,” he says, his deep voice rumbling through the thicket of his beard. “I must say, it’s good to see you.”

My hackles rise. After the lies and tricks he played, for him to address me in such familiar terms is an insult. “Indeed,” I reply with a curl of my lip. “We came at once. According to our agreement.”

Though my words are respectful, my tone is all subtle threat. Larongar is not insensitive to it. His good eye widens slightly. While the terms of our written contract protect him, he is not invulnerable. He coughs and shifts uncomfortably in his saddle, which creaks beneath his weight. “Come, we’ll let bygones be bygones, shall we, boy? You understand how desperate times will drive a man to desperate measures. Faraine is a good girl and will give you no trouble. She’ll make you a dutiful wife. Judging by the promptness of your arrival,” he adds with a smile that’s close to a leer, “you’ve not beendisappointed.”

I don’t respond. Any reply would somehow dishonor my wife. I will not give Larongar that satisfaction.

“And how is my boy settling in?” the king inquires. There’s a slyness to his words that sets the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.

“Prince Theodre will be treated well in my absence.”

“Good, good.” Larongar shakes his head and snorts derisively. “Wouldn’t want the little popinjay to be stripped of his creature comforts, now would we?” With that, he dismounts at last. His four escorts remain in their saddles, hands resting lightly on the hilts of their swords, but Larongar approaches me and claps me on the back, leading me deeper into his world. “It’s good you’ve come as quick as you did. Ruvaen’s forces have besieged the Citadel of Evisar. Do you know it?”

I shake my head.

“It is one of the great centers of Miphates learning, or so my man Wistari informs me. All books and scrolls and scholarly writings. I don’t pay much attention to these things. Magic and the like give me the creepings. But one must protect one’s assets, mustn’t one?”

“What does Ruvaen want with a Miphates center of learning?” I ask. The fae cannot wield or even comprehend human magic. The spells contained in those books and scrolls would be gibberish to his eye.

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