Crystal Doors #3: Sky Realm (No. 3) (5 page)

Vic gave her a cheeky grin. “You’re preaching to the choir, Yoda. There is no try.”

This time when the cousins closed their eyes and concentrated, Gwen felt a difference right away, a spark, a current going through her. She opened her eyes. The crystal daggers they all held blazed a brilliant yellow. Piri’s eggsphere sparkled yellow in response. The flow grew stronger, shivering and tickling through Gwen’s entire body. Her scalp prickled. The xyridium medallions around Gwen’s and Vic’s necks began to glow as well, and they hovered into the air until the five-sided pendants floated flat and parallel to the ground just beneath the cousins’ chins.

She wasn’t sure why, but each corner on the two pendants pointed to one of the apprentices.

Without warning, Vic spoke.

“Forging five into one band,

Five become the Ring of Might,

Joining to protect the land,

and empowered to fight the fight.”

She hadn’t known her cousin was going to say anything — much less recite what sounded like a spell — and judging by his expression, he was just as surprised as she. As if they had coordinated it, the moment Vic stopped speaking, Gwen said,
“S’ibah.”

Aquamarine lightning bolts shot from the edges of Vic’s pendant and connected to each crystal in the group. Likewise, Gwen’s pendant shot out violet fire. Beside her, Sharif gasped as the magical net increased the power flowing through the group by tenfold. Sparkling silver and gold strands finer than a spider’s web spread from the point of each dagger and linked to the tips of the other four daggers in the group. Her concentration focused entirely within their circle, and she could not see the ship, the sky, the ocean, or Vir Questas. The hairs on the back of Gwen’s neck stood on end. Tingling ripples ran from the soles of her feet to the top of her scalp and back down, and she could feel herself linked, not just to Vic, but to Sharif, Lyssandra, and Tiaret as well, in a way she had never felt before.

The power built and built. A glowing design identical to the one on their medallions burned in the air at the center of the circle. Piri moved her sphere to hover directly above it. A few slender lightning jolts shot out and struck the eggsphere, reflected from it, and bounced back to the rune at the center again. Even the slave brand on Sharif’s upper arm seemed to radiate a pure fire.

Gwen felt simultaneously tiny and enormous, powerful and powerless, ecstatic and tortured. An unbearable tension built inside her until she could hold it in no longer. At the same moment, as if with one voice, everyone of the apprentices let out a shout.

“S’ibah
!
”

Gwen blinked. What had just happened? The dancing webs of electricity were gone, but the bond that linked them all to each other was strong. Instinctively she understood that the Ring of Might had been forged. She wasn’t quite sure what the Ring’s powers were, but she and her cousin — the children of the prophecy — had worked the magic.

“Cool,” Vic said.

Gwen stared at Vic. “So where did that spell come from, Taz?”

He gave her an eyebrow shrug. “Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are. It, uh, just kinda popped out.”

She chuckled. “In other words, you’re telling me that just blurting out the first thing that pops into your head is actually a magical power now?”

“Come on, Doc. Group hug now, analyze magic later.”

Vir Questas approached the apprentices with a look of amazement. “You must be hungry,” he said, setting down a large tray of food, and Gwen found that she was. Ravenous. It was no longer midday as it had been when they had formed their circle. The sun was setting.

“How . . . long?” Lyssandra asked as they all released hands and put away the crystal daggers.

“Ah. You have been here at least six hours, veiled in a mystical vapor,” Questas said. “The sailors were alarmed at first, but I sensed the nature of the mist and reassured them that a wondrous event was taking place.”

Remaining in their circle, they all sat around the food tray and helped themselves to cups of greenstepe, mugs of cool mos ale, and thick chunks of heavy brown bread covered with slabs of cheese. Every muscle in Gwen’s body ached, and as she helped herself to the food, she couldn’t remember ever tasting anything as delicious as this simple fare. While they refreshed themselves, the Vir explained that he believed new powers were now active in each member of the Ring and that they must try to discover them and learn how to use them.

“And now,” he said, “it is time for you to take your leave. We arrived at the crystal door an hour ago. It is time to open it.”

“No problem,” Vic said, reading the unlocking rune Azric had tattooed on his wrist. He spoke the words that the dark sage had taught them, and the air began to sparkle with crystalline fire in the shape of an enormous arch on the water as the door opened.

“I had meant for Sharifas to unlock it,” Questas said with surprise. “This is his world.”

“I have never opened one before,” Sharif said.

“Then you should,” Tiaret said, making a throwing motion with both hands. A heartbeat later the crystal door was gone.

Gwen stared in shock. Crystal doors usually stayed open for a few minutes, yet this one had disappeared in a matter of seconds.

“What did you do?” Vic asked his friend from Afirik.

Tiaret spread her hands as if the answer were obvious. “I closed the door so that the Prince could practice opening it.”

Gwen bit the edge of her lower lip. “So the question is —
how
? Azric never taught us that.”

Tiaret frowned with thought. “I do not know how. I wanted the door to close, and it closed.”

“In other words,” Gwen said, “you have a new skill. Now that we’ve forged the Ring of Might, you can slam crystal doors shut the moment you want to.”

Their eyes all turned to Vir Questas, who nodded. “I have never seen this skill practiced before, but there are legends. The skill could be of great value in defending Elantya against those who would do us harm.” He handed Sharif a small spell scroll.

Facing where the crystal door should be, Sharif read the spell and the doorway appeared again.

Gwen concentrated and tried to shut the glittering portal, but nothing happened. Vic, Sharif, and Lyssandra made the attempt, too, but to no avail.

“Can you still close it?” Gwen asked Tiaret, wanting to make sure they had more than one data point in their experiment of finding the Ring’s new powers. An eyeblink later, Gwen had her answer. The door was gone.

Sharif stepped forward and read the spell scroll again. By the time he and Tiaret had opened and closed the door several times, everyone was convinced, and the girl from Afirik was tiring noticeably. Apparently non-scroll magic took a certain amount of energy from those who used it.

“I am ready now. Ready to go home,” Sharif said. He hesitated. “There is something I must ask of my friends before we travel to my city. Since Hashim’s death, my father permits no one to bring weapons into the palace. Would it bother you greatly to leave them behind?”

“Not a problem,” Vic said, getting his crystal knife out again and handing it to Questas. The others gave him theirs, as well, but Tiaret was reluctant to give up her teaching staff.

The blue-robed Vir gently put a hand out for it. “I will keep this safe for you until you return.”

“Please?” Sharif said. “I promise to take care of you while you are in Irrakesh.”

With a troubled look, the warrior girl relinquished the staff to Vir Questas.

“Thank you, my friends,” the Prince said with a look of relief. Then, reading from the spell scroll, he opened the door again.

Gwen looked at the arched portal that now shimmered in the air, a gateway even larger than the
Song of Therya.
But the ship would not be sailing through.

Rolling his carpet out on the deck, Sharif sat on it and motioned to Tiaret and Gwen to join him. Meanwhile, Vic and Lyssandra climbed onto a pedal glider that stood near the main mast of the ship. Muscular sailors hoisted the glider up the mast by a rope on a pulley until Lyssandra and Vic were at the very top.

Lyssandra gave the signal. She and Vic began pedaling, and he released the cinches that held the rope. The glider sailed forward toward the crystal door and the new world beyond it. Gwen felt a familiar excitement as Sharif had the carpet take off and fly up to meet the glider in the air.

Together they set off for the marvelous flying city.

6

IMMEDIATELY ON THE OTHER side of the crystal door, the ocean vanished and was replaced by a sea of undulating sand dunes. Elantya’s waves were divided from the desert below Irrakesh only by the glittering veil of the door.

But the pale blue sky above the dunes was dominated by a huge floating island metropolis. Irrakesh was spectacular, even from a distance. Gawking at the amazing flying city and all its unbelievable sights, Vic almost forgot to pedal the glider.

Lyssandra panted and furiously pumped her legs. “You must keep the propellers turning, Viccus, or we will fall.”

He snapped his mouth shut so quickly that his teeth clicked together. He looked down and saw only clouds and the desolate landscape far below. “Sheesh, that’s a long way to fall.” He began to pedal, and their glider picked up speed again, cruising beside Sharif’s flying carpet as they approached the fabulous floating city.

To Vic, it looked as if someone had dug Irrakesh out of the ground in one piece with a giant shovel, then flung the whole thing into the air. Now uprooted, Sharif’s home city drifted through the skies of this world on a massive chunk of rock.

Irrakesh was a gigantic cluster of buildings and tall towers crowded together on rugged hills, connected by steep streets. The distinctive architecture used stone, tile, and brick, ornamented by friezes, roof crenellations, watchtowers, colonnaded balconies, and pointed ogee arches. Multihued fabric awnings and pennants splashed their vivid colors against the tan and white stone, and long bright ribbons flew from the pointed spires, fluttering in the high breezes.

At the heart of the drifting island, Vic could see the Sultan’s palace, an imposing edifice surmounted by a large sapphire dome and decorated with small gilded onion domes. Tall, thin minarets at the corners of the elaborate central structure made Vic think of rockets ready to launch.

All along the streets, winding up the hills, a jumble of homes and business buildings piled on top of each other. A labyrinthine section of the lower town held a vast marketplace that reminded Vic of an enormous flea market. A hodge podge of merchant booths and tents crammed against each other — metalsmiths, woodworkers, potters, fortune tellers, weavers, spice sellers, and food vendors. Each separate stall was covered with a brightly dyed awning. In talking about his city, Sharif had explained that different colors and patterns of the awnings signified different trades. The streets were crowded with all sorts of people in different clothing that ranged from bright robes to dusty loincloths.

Lyssandra noticed Vic staring. “That is the great bazaar of Irrakesh. I have never been here, but I have seen illustrations. It is quite famous.”

“Looks pretty crowded,” Vic said. “Sheesh, there must be ten thousand people getting groceries all at the same time.”

“Irrakesh has a substantial population,” the copper-haired girl said.

Colorful moths as wide as Vic’s outspread arms fluttered around the building tops like small children at play. Although he was far above the ground, Vic could hear the everyday noises of Irrakesh’s people.

Vic caught a whiff of spices and perfumed smoke as they swooped in lower toward a central gathering square. His stomach grumbled. He always liked to try different things. He saw robed and bearded men standing over what seemed to be cauldrons, waving their hands and summoning up curling plumes of lavender or blue smoke. “Reminds me of a chemistry lab I once had.”

Lyssandra shook her head, still pedaling to keep their glider moving along. “Those are Viziers. Irrakesh is known for its magic users, very similar to our sages, but they can work slightly different magic,
air magic.
That would help us to defend Elantya.”

“I won’t forget why we came here. But I could sure use a rest soon.”

The flying carpet came close to them, with Piri’s glowing orb easily keeping pace, bobbing along in the air. Vic and Lyssandra had to swerve in their much clumsier contraption. Sitting comfortably next to Gwen and Tiaret on his purple rug, Sharif shouted, his face filled with delight. “Is it not beautiful? My city of Irrakesh is the grandest city ever built.”

“It sure isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen, I’ll grant you that,” Vic shouted back, panting. “Are we going to land soon? Some of us aren’t on a magic carpet, you know.”

At the base of a rocky hill with steep, curving streets that led up to the enormous colorful palace, Sharif descended and found an open square. “We could fly directly to one of the palace balconies, but I would like to show you around first.” The pride was plain in the Prince’s face as he landed.

“Sure, I’ll play tourist,” Vic said.

“Did not the Sultan demand your presence immediately?” Tiaret asked.