: Chapter 20

Our bargeman steers the craft up to the landing, settling it neatly so that there’s barely any gap. We step from the gently bobbing barge onto more solid footing, wobbling a little as we adjust our balance.

Before us lies the town of Dugorim, a trolde holding some five leagues downriver of Mythanar. It shines beneath the peak glow of lusterling, its winding streets busy with life and commerce. The people of Dugorim are primarily miners, hunters after that rare virmaer ore that is so prized among the fae lords and ladies of Eledria. Lady Xag, mistress of this town, has grown quite wealthy off fae greed.

The lady herself stands at the end of the dock. She is a sight to behold, with perfectly chiseled features, plump, full lips, and sumptuous curves almost carelessly clad in the richest hugagug silk. Towering over everyone in the vicinity, she’s like some sensual warrior angel brought to life. Her pure white hair is styled in a coiled crown on top of her head, lending her still more height. Beside her, Hael looks positively petite.

Sul steps off the barge and staggers. “Gods smite me!” he hisses. “You didn’t tell her we were coming, did you?”

I glance his way, my mouth tipped in a wry grin. “Are you more afraid she’ll wallop you or kiss you, brother?”

“Oh, the latter. Infinitely.” Sul pivots as though to climb back on the barge and finds himself face-to-face with my captain. “Ah! Hael, darling. Do us a favor and put me out of my misery before that woman gets her hands on me, will you?”

Hael shoulders past him onto the dock. Yok hastens after, a little awkward and still favoring his wounded arm. “What’s wrong with Lady Xag?” he asks innocently.

“Nothing,” I say. “Only that she’s in love with Sul.”

“But then, aren’t they all?” Sul heaves a longsuffering sigh. “It’s the price of such beauty, I fear. The ladies cannot help themselves.”

“Enough, Sul.”

I take care not to so much as glance Hael’s way as I lead them swiftly down the dock to shore. Lady Xag extends her muscular arms and beams a smile upon me. The next moment I’m caught in her embrace. She’s taller than me by a good head and squishes me against her enormous bosom, lifting me right off my feet.

“Your Majesty!” she cries, her voice booming all the way to the lorst crystals high above. “Welcome back to my humble home. I’ve been preparing for your arrival and will escort you to the gate myself.”

“Oh, that’s not at all necessary, Lady Xag.” I manage to pry myself free of her grasp and step back to regain my balance. “I know the way, and I wouldn’t want to take you from your daily duties.”

“Nonsense! I’m always glad of an excuse to ride. It’s not every day one’s king goes world-walking and brings back a new queen, am I right?” With this she turns from me to Hael and Yok, approaching behind me. Her mouth twists, and she rises on her toes, looking over their heads. “Ah! Sul!” she cries, not in the least concerned who among the river workers might overhear her. “It’s no use trying to escape now I’ve spotted you. Am I too soon to hope the drums played for your brother’s wedding will put ideas into your head? Surely it’s time you settled down!”

Sul makes a flying leap to Hael’s side, avoiding Xag’s grasping arm. “Hide me!” he yelps.

Hael sneers at him, but Lady Xag laughs. “I heard that!” she says and punches Sul in the shoulder. “Mark my words, little prince, one of these days I’m going to chase you down in the marhg. When I’ve got you in my arms at last, we’ll see what you think of that!”

“Romance by blood sport.” Sul shudders. “How delightful.”

Still laughing, Xag calls for our morleth to be brought up from the barge. They’ve traveled in shadow form but take on solid substance the instant their hooves hit the shore. She’s had her own morleth brought down to the river as well, and we are soon all four mounted. “Is this all your party?” she asks.

I look over my small band—Sul, Hael, and Yok. I’d wanted to bring only my brother and captain, but Yok was so eager to go, and Madame Ar cleared him for duty, stating his arm was as good as new. I hadn’t the heart to tell him no. This journey to the Between Gate is neither long nor arduous, after all, and there’s no reason to expect trouble along the way.

“It’s enough,” I respond.

Xag tuts and spurs her morleth into motion, leading the way up from the river and through the streets of town. “I would have thought you’d want to show off a little. Throw a parade or some such for the human princess.”

“There will be plenty of time for celebrating once we reach Mythanar,” I answer with an easy shrug. The truth is, I don’t want to frighten poor Ilsevel more than necessary. I know the passage through the Between Gate will be difficult enough as it is. This beautiful world of ours will be a nightmare to her human senses. I hope to give her a chance to adjust without hundreds of watching eyes analyzing her every move and expression.

Before Xag can press me further, I ask, “Will you be joining us at the ceremony tomorrow?”

“That depends. Will there be dancing and feasting and riotous revelries?”

I smile. “Do you doubt it?”

She casts me a sidelong glance. “Hard to say. You’ve always been such a serious fellow. If it were that pretty brother of yours now, that’s a different story!” Xag turns in her saddle, shooting a blinding grin back at Sul. “Once he and I have performed our Hunt and swum the yunkathu waters, you can bet the revelry will be riotous enough to bring the crystals crashing down on our heads!”

Sul hunches in his saddle and mutters loud enough for all to hear, “Gods spare me from the love of powerful women.”

Hael maintains a stoic expression even as Xag laughs again, throwing her beautiful head back. She’s so confident in her purpose, part of me won’t be at all surprised if she manages to snare my brother in the end. For Hael’s sake, I hope I’m wrong about that, but it might be better for my brave captain to give up her impossible infatuation. Sul would make her a terrible husband.

We leave the streets of Dugorim behind and make our way into the forest above the town. Xag takes the lead, guiding us between the tall smooth trunks, following a trail I can scarcely discern. The air is alive with the hum of olk, which dart shyly from our path, leaving trails of glittering dust in their wake.

“I always forget how beautiful it is here,” I say, breathing deep of the sweetly perfumed air.

“Aye, it’s the prettiest spot in all the Under Realm if you ask me.”

There’s pride in Xag’s voice but something else as well. Something that makes me turn and study her as she rides by my side. “What’s troubling you?”

She lifts an eyebrow and casts me a sidelong glance. “Oh, I don’t know if I should mention it just now. What with you on your way to fetch your bride and all. Don’t want to put a damper on the joyous occasion.”

“You can’t very well drop a hint like that and expect me not to pursue it. Come, my lady. Out with it. You may as well tell me.”

“Is it your sovereign command?”

“If you like.”

“Very well.” She draws a long breath, then leans in her saddle so she can lower her voice, though I rather suspect the three behind us hear her loud and clear. “Have the stirrings been bad in Mythanar recently?”

I nod grimly. “They’ve been increasing in intensity, yes. But not what I’d call bad. Not yet anyway. Why?”

“Did you feel the stirring last dimness?”

“Yes.” My mouth goes dry. “We felt it.”

I’d woken in my bed to feel the whole room shake. It had lasted only a few seconds, and the damage was minimal. The palace cook claimed a few bits of crockery were broken, and Master Vret, the building master, reported a few new hairline cracks in the foundations. Nothing more.

“Well,” Xag says, “it was big enough here that a portion of the south wall caved in, burying five houses. I’ve got people even now hard at work digging folks free. There’s a new crack running through the town center as well that wasn’t there yesterday. Folk are saying they smell raog poison rising from it.”

My heart goes cold. This is serious news indeed. “And have you seen any signs of raog poison yourself?”

“No. But I’ve been having strange dreams lately.”

“How do you mean?”

She bites her full lower lip. “I don’t like to say. They’re . . . bad. And I wake to find I’ve done things while sleeping. Things I regret.” She drops her gaze to the pommel of her saddle, her fingers playing with strands of coarse morleth hair. “I had a pretty little olk pet, you know. Sweet thing, would perch on my shoulder. Liked to hum from lusterling to dimness. Drove me batty, but it was such a nice little creature.”

She goes silent for a long minute, leaving me wondering how any of this pertains. I’m just about to question her further when she speaks again all in a rush: “I woke this morning to find its wings were in shreds. Little bits and pieces, spread across the floor. I found it in the corner of the room, all curled up on itself. Dead.”

I frown. “What could have done such a thing?”

“That’s just it! There was no one in the room but me. Just me and the little olk. Bip, I called it. But it was all torn to bits, poor thing, poor thing . . .”

We ride on, her words echoing dully in the silence between us. My stomach is a stone in my gut. Xag is such a great soul, so full of life and vim and laughter. I’ve never even seen her in a bad mood. This heaviness now bowing her shoulders feels wrong.

We reach a crest in the road. I turn in my saddle, gazing down on the village below us. All that life, all that bustling energy. But ah! There, off to the south, I see the scar in the cavern wall where the avalanche took place. Much of that bustling energy isn’t miners about their business, but rescuers attempting to dig out their friends and family. I ought to be helping them. I ought to ride down there right now, hauling boulders, scraping dirt.

But no. I face forward through the trees, setting my jaw grimly. No, I’m doing what I must for those people. Right here. Right now.

The Between Gate comes abruptly into view, standing in a clearing in the middle of the forest. It’s a great round arch, tall enough for three Lady Xag’s to balance on each other’s shoulders beneath the highest point. Flat-headed fungi cling to the ancient stones in profusion, faintly pulsing with living light.

“Ho there, Kol!” Xag calls out. “Wake up, you old boulder. Your king is nigh!”

One of the fungus-covered stones at the base of the gate moves, stretches, and stands up into the form of a stoop-shouldered trolde. He grins, flashing gemstone teeth at us, and offers me a double-fisted salute. I answer with a nod. “How do you fare, Kol?”

“Can’t complain, Majesty,” the old gate warden rumbles in response. He moves to the large stone dial affixed to the wall behind him. “Will you be traveling to the human world again today?” He asks it as though I go world-walking as a general rule. In truth, I’ve only ever ventured beyond the Under Realm a handful of times, and then usually to the other Eledrian Courts. The human world has never held much appeal to me, despite my heritage.

“Yes, Kol. Thank you,” I say.

Kol begins to turn the dial. The air beneath the arc shimmers with magic awakened. It’s a strange sensation, for though I can see the forest on the far side of the arc, I feel different air blowing through. The sudden largeness of expanding worlds opens before me, layer after layer of realities, like doors flinging wide.

Young Yok curses behind me. This is only his second time traveling between worlds. In many ways the second time is worse, for you know what to expect but haven’t yet built up a tolerance. I cast him an encouraging smile. “Go on then, Yok! Lead the way.”

The boy grimaces but sets his shoulders bravely and spurs his morleth forward. The beast tosses its head, irked at being made to travel back into the human world, but Yok gets it under control. They pass through the opening and vanish.

Hael goes next, her sword drawn. One never knows exactly what one will meet on the other side of the Gate, after all. Sul follows her, tossing a last look back at me before he goes. “Coming, Vor? Or are you getting cold feet?”

“I’ll be there,” I say. Sul shrugs and passes through, disappearing into the rippling curtain of magic. I turn to the woman beside me. “I promise, I’ll look into these events, Lady Xag. And I hope I will soon have means to offer real help.”

“I pray to the Deeper Dark you’re right,” she answers softly.

I spur my beast into motion, approaching the gate arc. The heat of living magic warms my skin and makes my morleth flare his nostrils and show his vicious canines. “Steady, Knar,” I say, patting his ugly neck. “Steady.”

Then we pass under the arc and are ripped from our reality and sent hurtling across the worlds.