Crystal Doors #1 (10 page)

“The attackers fought using their long claws and spears tipped with sharpened shells. Their scimitars had scalloped edges and flow holes cut through the blades. Three merlon warriors wielded spiked clubs topped with poisonous sea urchins.” Tiaret stared at the water clock as clear streams continued to pour from one cylinder to another, filling basin after basin, raising the markers to keep track of the hours. The tinkling flow seemed soothing and hypnotic, but the storyteller did not relax.

“Even in our most extreme battles, I have never seen Master Kundu fight like such a whirlwind. I vanquished at least twelve merlons, and Kundu killed many more.” She turned the staff’s sharp point upward, showing dark stains, and ran her fingers along the curved hook at the handle. “The spear end, the hook, and the dragon’s-eye stone were equally effective against them.” Even from her sitting position, Tiaret twirled the heavy weapon a few times over her head, producing a distinctive whistling sound.

“Argo’s ship had twelve crewmen, the captain, Kundu, and myself. Many sailors fought with their bare hands and fists, throwing themselves upon their scaly enemies.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Two cowards jumped overboard, though I do not know how they intended to escape.
The sea was full of merlons and other sea creatures, and soon the water ran red. The cowards screamed and thrashed, begging for help, but we could barely help ourselves.

“I fought in a daze. After a time, my attention became focused only on survival, on swinging a weapon, cracking skulls, and stabbing scaly chests.

“Then the two sea serpents we had seen before joined the battle, but now they wore heavy armor. Their heads sported metal studs, solid lumps that turned them into living battering rams. They swam in from the open water, picking up speed, and crashed into the side of our ship. A single impact was enough to split the already damaged hull. One of the masts toppled, bringing down two sailors who had climbed to safety.

“The storm around us grew stronger. Waves hammered against the hull, and the sea serpents came back for a second attack. The ship was now cracked and began falling apart.

“I looked up, covered in green merlon blood. My own weapon was slippery with fishy slime, and when the enemy came at me again, I struck, but lost my grip. I found myself unarmed, with merlons closing in. Master Kundu saw it, too. He called my name, and —” She fell silent, wrestling with her terrible memory. “And he threw me his teaching staff. I did not ask for it, but he threw it to me and then flung himself at the merlons nearest him, punching and kicking. I caught the teaching staff and swung it, smashing the merlons close to me. I fought as hard as I could, trying to reach Master Kundu, so I could defend him. But I did not get there in time. Four merlons dragged him overboard into the water. I could not save him.”

Tiaret closed her eyes as tears welled up. But she would not leave her story unfinished. “I realized then that only Captain Argo and I were left alive. I was on the other end of the deck, and I ran to help him, so we could stand back to back for our last battle. But seven merlons surrounded him. Though the captain slashed with his notched sword, the merlons overwhelmed him. I could not even see him go down in the flurry of scaly bodies.

“The sea serpents rammed again, and a broken yardarm fell past me, knocking one of the merlons aside. Desperately, I grabbed onto the yardarm and, as a heavy swell swept me overboard, somehow I kept my grip on the teaching staff. I plunged into the frothing water. Fortunately the yardarm was large, with good buoyancy.” She gave a wry smile. “Out on the savannahs of Afirik, one has little need to learn how to swim.”

“Nor on flying cities,” Sharif admitted in a whisper to Vic. “I never learned to swim, either, until I came to Elantya.”

“Perhaps that is one of the things we can teach you here, Tiaret,” said another Pentumvirate member, a bit too cheerily.

The girl was nearly finished with her story. “The storm carried me away. I drifted for a long time, and soon the sharp reefs were out of sight. I do not think the merlons knew I was alive. Obviously they expected no survivors.

“I clung to the floating yardarm for more than a day, trying to imagine how I might reach safety, how I could survive. I am accustomed to solving my own problems, but I had nothing to work with, no way to guide my course. I did not know how to navigate, so I could not guess where Elantya might be. I
had no water and nothing to eat other than a few small fish that I caught with my hands.

“On the second day the sharks found me. I climbed onto the yardarm as best I could and used the teaching staff to defend myself. The sharks circled and came closer.

“I have fought lions before. They are honorable predators with minds and grace, and it is a great challenge to defeat one. But a shark is simply a machine with jaws. It swims, and it attacks. I discovered that the snout is their sensitive area, and many of the sharks that came close soon retreated with sore noses. I thrust with the spear and stabbed one in its dark, soulless eye. I managed to draw blood, and the other sharks fell upon their comrade, treating him as food easier to obtain than myself.

“I saw symbols branded on their gray bodies — symbols similar to those I had observed on the sea serpents. Merlon symbols. I knew my hours were numbered. Once the sharks reported my position, the merlons would come. I vowed to defend myself and survive as long as possible. Wet and aching, miserable and hungry, I recalled the color of the warm veldt, the smell of sunlight on dry grass, the sound of the blades rustling together in a lullaby, and wished I had never left Afirik.”

She looked pensive, then glanced at Sharif and Vic. “These two, Sharifas and Viccus, found me just as the sharks returned. No doubt the merlons were on their way. I owe my rescuers a debt that I do not take lightly.” Tiaret hauled herself to her feet and leaned on the battered teaching staff. When she squared
her shoulders, her expression was bold and determined. “And now that I am here, if you give me food, fresh clothes, and a chance to rest, I am prepared to begin my studies.”

Her tawny gaze swept the audience. “If the merlons are indeed gearing up to attack this island, then every citizen of Elantya must learn how to fight.”

THE GIRL FROM AFIRIK insisted on walking unassisted from the square. Elantyan sages hurried her off to the Hall of Healers, where they could patch her wounds and watch over her while she recovered. Although Tiaret was obviously weary, her amber eyes flashed with a clear resolve to recuperate as quickly as possible in order to be ready for another fight.

While the five virs held intensive meetings to discuss the news and make vital defensive plans, citizens spread the news of the merlon attack. “By the end of the day,” Gwen said, “everybody on this island will know Tiaret’s story.”

“Yup, and they’ll probably embellish it to make it even more fantastic.” Vic grinned, still proud of himself. “Maybe they’ll even exaggerate my heroic acts.”

“Our heroic acts,” Sharif said with a sniff. “Tiaret’s story is so fantastic, I doubt they will need to embellish much.”

Lyssandra stretched her thin arms. “It has been a long day, especially for you two, Gwenya and Viccus. Follow me to the student quarters at the Citadel. There should be rooms available for you two.”

“Just temporary quarters, remember,” Gwen said. “We’re planning to go home as soon as we can.”

“Rest now, plan later. It’ll be like going away to college and living in a dorm.” Vic wished his cousin weren’t always so pessimistic, even though they’d both been through some substantial tragedies for anyone their age. Of course, it was different for Vic. He still had his father and could always hope his mother might return someday, while Gwen knew both of her parents were dead. The mystery and all the unanswered questions were the hardest parts to handle. Uprooting her whole life and moving in with her uncle and cousin must have been traumatic enough — but it was nothing compared to being yanked through a magical door to Fantasy Island!

Sharif unrolled his embroidered flying carpet. “I shall fly ahead and make arrangements. Since I know Vir Questas personally, I can secure exceptional quarters for our new friends.” He flew off before anyone could argue. Vic wished he could have gone on the flying carpet, too.

“Won’t the Pentumvirate members be too busy right now to bother with finding housing for us?” Gwen said.

“There are always plenty of rooms,” Lyssandra assured them.

The Citadel buildings crowned one of the island’s rolling hills. The structures included a large forum, open classrooms, and experimental laboratories, as well as living quarters, a
common area, and a dining hall. Vic thought it looked like a prep school and university rolled into one.

Sharif circled over their heads, then landed in a courtyard in front of them. With well-practiced ease he jumped off of his rug and rolled it up, careful to align the edges. “They are preparing areas for you now. The evening meal is just being served. If we dine now, your quarters should be ready by the end of the meal.”

Lyssandra raised her hand in farewell. “I will leave you with Sharifas.”

“Where are you going?” Vic said, crestfallen. He had hoped to sit next to the copper-haired girl while they ate.

“I have a family and a home here in Elantya. My parents and my little brother, Xandas, expect me to join them.”

Sharif said, “You two will eat with me and the other novs, apprentices, journeysages, and neosages. You will not lack for company.”

In the crowded dining hall, long tables alternated with open spaces, and tall stone columns supported a roof made of sectioned colored crystal. Slatted panels could be opened to let air circulate, or closed to keep out rain. Sharif sat near the head of a table, taking the place as if it were his right, and indicated two open seats for Vic and Gwen.

Vic’s stomach was growling. Though everything was strange, he reveled in it, and he looked forward to tasting Elantyan food. His dad had made a habit of regularly exposing them to dishes from different cultures. They often ate Moroccan, Brazilian, Greek, Mexican, Russian, Japanese, and Ethiopian cuisine.

When servers brought out platters of food, Vic wasn’t surprised to see a lot of seafood, but these recipes were far different from anything on a menu at Red Lobster. Bowls of spiced mussels, clams, and larger shellfish were passed around. Fried tentacled things looked ready to fight back against anyone who tried to eat them. Several kinds of whole fish had been wrapped in grape leaves and roasted. The salads were made of pickled seaweed and edible cliff flowers.

Gamely, he scooped some clams onto his plate and then added a few of the floppy but intriguing tentacles. He saw that Gwen was eating parts of the meal with her eyes closed, but Vic happily tried everything. Though some of the textures were unusual (he particularly didn’t like the rubbery suckers on the tentacles), the flavors were wonderful, with plenty of olive oil and garlic.

“Elantyan meals are quite different from those on Irrakesh,” Sharif said. “I long for the food of home.” He introduced Vic and Gwen to the nearest novs and apprentices, who came from a variety of cultures on different worlds connected by crystal doors.

Vic nudged his cousin with his elbow. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“In other words, not quite what I expected? It certainly is different,” she admitted. “I’d feel better, though, if Uncle Cap knew we were okay.”

“Me too. But come on, Doc, look at all this brainpower around you — and these are just the students! Once you add Rubicas and all the other sages, somebody’s got to find a way
to open that crystal door again, or at least throw a message in a bottle through it so we can tell my dad where we are.”

Gwen nodded reluctantly. “Maybe Sage Rubicas can talk to the Pentumvirate tomorrow and ask if they could help us.”

“Good idea. See? There’s no reason why we shouldn’t get a good night’s rest. Sleep now, tackle the problem fresh in the morning.”

WHILE THE HIGHER-LEVEL students had private rooms either in the dormitories or near their mentor sages, each of the Citadel’s nov dormitories featured a large communal area surrounded by dozens of narrow chambers along the outer walls. The chambers had no solid ceilings, other than the high roof of the main room that housed them.

“It’s kinda like those cubicles they have in big office buildings,” Vic observed.

The main rooms were lit by bright crystals. Vic remembered what Lyssandra had said about there being little wood, so of course they wouldn’t burn fires or torches.

Gwen blinked, swept her eyes around the dormitory, then looked back at him. “Where are the doors to the rooms? For that matter, where are the bathrooms? Aren’t there separate areas for girls? Something… nicer, maybe?”

“Do not worry, Gwenya. I made certain you received one of the nicer rooms.” Sharif showed Gwen and Vic to the two cubicles on either side of his.

Each of the small chambers consisted of a thick pad and a
blanket on a carved stone riser, a main back wall and a pair of shared half-walls that were two meters high. The “ceilings” and entrances to the quarters were draped with opaque curtains to provide privacy and to darken the rooms for sleeping.

The island had hot and cold running water from underground springs, and backup supplies from rain-filled cisterns in the hills. Each of their rooms was equipped with a small trickling fountain that served as a sink set into the back wall and, opposite the stone bed riser, a flagstone lifted to reveal a discreet hole in the floor, through which they could hear the distant sound of flowing water.