Crystal Doors #1 (6 page)

“Those remind me of sushi boats,” Vic said.

“Or messages in a bottle,” Gwen said. “Is this like a pneumatic-tube messaging system?”

The petite young woman waved a hand toward the floating containers. “Those packages are enchanted to go to a certain person, and they float through the network of channels until they arrive at the correct destination. We have other communication systems, of course, but this one is very efficient.”

“Great way to send the mail,” Vic said with a grin.

“We normally use skrits for mail and spell scrolls,” Lyssandra
said, “but since skrits can only carry three times their own weight, we use the water channels for other deliveries.”

Gwen was about to ask what “skrits” were, when they came to an area where tall, tapered silver towers stood like giant toy pinwheels. The thin curved blades flashed as they rotated. The pinwheel petals alternated between quicksilver mirrors and angled prisms, spinning a flurry of rainbows and dazzling reflections into the air like water droplets from a whirling sprinkler.

Gwen stared, then consciously closed her mouth so she wouldn’t gape like a fish out of water. Lyssandra looked at the towers. “Those are mirrormills, coated with a reflective film of aja crystal. They catch and split the magic energy inherent in sunlight, then store it in luminous jars, so that Elantyans can use the power wherever it is needed.”

“Like solar energy cells?” Gwen said.

Lyssandra touched her arm, took the concept from Gwen’s mind, then pursed her lips. “An inaccurate comparison, but useful enough. You must adapt to the fact that everything in Elantya functions differently from the way to which you are accustomed.”

“I may not know how it works,” Vic said, “but I bet I could figure it out.”

Gwen noticed that all of the buildings were made of stone or whitewashed bricks, with many crystals and metal supports. “I don’t see much wood.”

“We are a small island at the center of all crystal-door trade routes. Although we have access to stone, sand, and some metal
ores, as well as crystals that we can either mine or grow from natural elements, wood is scarce here. Our ships and docks come from other worlds where wood is plentiful. Because so much of what Elantya needs must be imported through the crystal doors, we take great care to put everything to its wisest use.”

“I guess that would have an effect on architectural styles.”

Men, women, and children from many races walked past them, dressed in colorful costumes that originated from diverse cultures. Different worlds? Different universes? Gwen couldn’t deny the strangeness all around her.

Some people rode in low wheeled carts with colorful sails flapping out in front of them. Catching the breezes, the sail carts glided along the smooth streets, picking up speed down the slopes and then rolling uphill. Overhead, kite gliders carried one or two passengers, who pedaled to turn the broad scoop-shaped propellers.

From what Gwen could see, some of the “magic” was based on physics rather than sorcery, but some things were undeniably magical. She wondered if this was what her own world might have looked like if the Renaissance had occurred at a time when arcane spells could work alongside science.

Ornate water clocks spun paddle wheels that dumped dippers of water into cylinders calibrated with the hours of the day. The excess current spilled down chutes to turn gears that propelled mechanical figures of outlandish animals and dancing imps.

“It’s like something from the mind of Leonardo da Vinci on too much coffee,” she murmured.

“I was thinking more of Dr. Seuss,” Vic said. “I sure wish I had my digital camera. I left it in my backpack by the solarium door.” He groaned with frustration. “Nobody’s going to believe any of this back home.”

They turned the corner of a domed building whose windows were shaded by flapping orange and purple awnings. Gwen heard a hissing noise and the clank of metal footsteps.

A gleaming contraption with pulleys and cables plodded toward them on a pair of thick short legs, like a robot built from a child’s construction set. The artificial walking body was studded at every joint with what appeared to be rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, each jewel shimmering with a hidden fire. Bubbles circulated through veinlike tubes. Set atop rectangular shoulders, a compact aquarium tank formed the machine’s “head.” The water-filled dome contained an exotic living creature — a rippled mass that might have been a cross between a sea anemone and a jellyfish. A frilly ridge surrounded the brainlike lump, studded with a ring of eye protrusions.

“Whoa, what’s that?” Vic said.

Lyssandra motioned her two new friends forward. Moving with a cautious, ponderous grace, the walking device stopped in front of them. A bubbly voice came from a pair of horn-shaped speakers embedded in the armored chest, reminding Gwen of the sounds Vic used to make when he talked through a drinking straw in a glass of soda. “Greetings, Mistress Lyssandra.”

“A good day to you as well, Sage Polup,” she said with a quick bow. “These two strangers came through a crystal door during one of Sage Rubicas’s experiments. I am showing them Elantya for the first time.”

The anemone creature floated closer to the faceplate to get a better view with its ring of eyes. “I hope you find Elantya to be as rewarding, and as safe, as I have.” With a hiss of building power, the walker lifted one heavy leg and then the other. “I must be off to a meeting of the Pentumvirate.”

Lyssandra said her farewells, echoed by Gwen and Vic, though the two were mystified. “And what was that? An alien?”

“Sage Polup is an anemonite from beneath the sea. In the ocean, his people are mobile, but they are unable to live or move on land, so our sages created that special survival tank for him. With spells and science, he can walk among us and go about his business through the streets of Elantya.”

“Why did he want to leave the ocean?” Gwen’s brow furrowed. “Does he work here?”

“Maybe he’s a foreign-exchange student,” Vic said.

“He is one of our teachers, and Elantyan students learn much from him. Anemonites are famed repositories of ideas and knowledge, forming a great brain trust when they cluster on the sea floor. This makes them both valuable and vulnerable. Sage Polup’s fellow anemonites are now oppressed, held in thrall by our enemies, the merlons.”

“Mer-what?” Vic asked.

“Merlons. An aquatic race that lives in cities beneath the waves. After Elantya was created here to guard the crystal doors, the merlons came to resent our tiny patch of solid ground on their world. They wish to drive us away, but Elantya’s master sages and our own reservoir of knowledge protect us. Still, the merlons have not given up.”

“And what do the merlons use anemonites for?” Gwen asked.

“To fight us. Though the anemonites declared their neutrality in the conflict, the merlons enslaved them, forcing these great thinkers of the deep to devise spells and tactics against us.”

“In other words, they’re like hostage weapons scientists,” Gwen said.

“Sorta sounds that way,” Vic agreed. “I watched a TV special about how the Nazis forced scientists to make weapons for Hitler during World War II, even though they didn’t want to.”

Lyssandra watched the artificial walker turn the corner and disappear down the street. “Sage Polup escaped from the guarded anemonite beds and came to us. One of our divers found him in the harbor a year ago, pleading for asylum. Polup warned us of a growing threat to Elantya. The merlons mean to remove this island from their oceans. From time to time they have destroyed our docks, shredded our fishing nets, and damaged our ships. They intend to move against us again… and soon.”

“Let me get this straight,” Vic said. “You’re being threatened… by mermaids?”

“Merlons.”
The young woman touched his arm, and paused a moment to read his thoughts. “I can see in your mind a picture of what you are thinking, and you could not be more wrong. The merlons are far more horrific than anything you can imagine.”

“Closer to the Creature from the Black Lagoon, then?” Vic said.

Lyssandra wore a troubled expression. “Ah, I see now. Yes, that is closer to reality. Sage Polup advises the Pentumvirate,
our governing council of five leaders, but he spends most of his time teaching.”

“In other words, a visiting professor,” Gwen said.

“A jellyfish professor driving a robot!” Vic chuckled. “Am I the only one who finds that funny?”

The telepathic girl’s eyes were solemn. “Would you truly judge him by his appearance rather than by his mind? That is not our way, Viccus. Elantya is an egalitarian city, and the Citadel welcomes students and instructors of any race or species from all the worlds linked by crystal doors — medical specialists and weather readers from Chian, shamans and tribal musicians from Afirik, philosophers and mathematicians from Grogypt. Students come to learn the complexities of intelligent life in all its forms. You will see this for yourself. While you are in Elantya, it would be simplest to let you stay in student rooms at the Citadel. Perhaps you two will learn from us and add to our reservoir of knowledge by telling us of your world, where things are different?”

“Oh, it’s different there, all right,” Gwen said.

“Then you will fit in well. We each carry special knowledge. Scholars and scientists, mystics and philosophers, come from different civilizations to practice their arts, to share their learning, and to see other points of view.”

Vic pointed to the sky. “Ooh — look!”

Looking up, Gwen spotted a rectangle of purple cloth fringed with gold tassels sailing among the scoop-powered gliders. A young man in billowy pantaloons, a white silk shirt, and short vest rode cross-legged atop the carpet, guiding it along.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Vic whooped with delight. He nudged his cousin. “Five bucks says we’re about to meet Aladdin.”

“A flying carpet?” Gwen put her hands on her hips. “That’s impossible.”

“Why is it more impossible than any other design of glider or aircraft?” Lyssandra said. She waved to the young man on the flying carpet, and he came around to land in front of them.

“Because… because it just is,” Gwen insisted.

“You must learn to dispense with your preconceptions, Gwenya.”

AFTER THE EMBROIDERED RUG settled on the flagstones with a flurry of gold tassels, the boy stood up and brushed off his fancy clothes. He ran a critical eye over the interpreter. “You are looking very tired today, Lyssandra. Bad dreams again?”

Lyssandra studied the ground at her feet. “Shipwrecks… all night. It seemed so real, so familiar. I’d rather not discuss it.”

He shrugged and looked instead at Gwen and Vic. “A new pair of novs?”

“These are not novs,” Lyssandra said.

“They certainly look like novs. They are dressed very strangely.”

While Gwen self-consciously smoothed her rumpled sweatshirt, Vic rolled his eyes. “Let me get this straight: A guy in poof-pants on a purple flying carpet thinks
we’re
dressed
strangely? Maybe we should try introductions now, fashion advice later.”

Gwen suspected they had just been insulted by the apparently wealthy young man, and she wasn’t ready to let it slide — even if he
was
way cuter than Shoru’s handler from Ocean Kingdoms. “What’re novs?”

With a quirk of his full lips, the young man said, “Usually ignorant, in my opinion. Unfortunately, I, too, am a nov.”

Lyssandra added, “The term ‘nov’ is short for novice. New students at the Citadel.”

“In other words, freshmen,” Gwen said.

Vic heaved an exaggerated sigh at Gwen. “So even after being transported to an amazing fantasy land, we still can’t escape school?”

The long-haired girl politely presented the newcomers. “Gwenya and Viccus arrived through a new crystal door during one of Sage Rubicas’s experiments.”

Without introducing himself, the boy with the flying carpet raised his dark eyebrows. “It is not possible to create new doorways since the Great Closure.”

“Rubicas has been trying,” Lyssandra answered with a distant smile. “Never underestimate a master sage.”

With a flourish of his right hand, the young man bowed to them. “I am Ali el Sharif.” He deftly rolled his carpet and tucked the thin cylinder under his arm. “I will walk with you for the time being,” he said as if he were doing them a favor. “After enjoying the breezes and looking down on everyone, perhaps I should stretch my legs a bit.” From the care he showed for the rug, Gwen could tell it was a treasured possession.

Sharif had a strong cleft chin, olive-green eyes, and wavy dark hair that covered his ears. His shoulders were square, his back straight, and he moved with a poise that suggested extreme confidence and a cultured upbringing. He seemed well aware of both his handsome features and his surroundings.

“Sharifas comes from the flying city of Irrakesh,” Lyssandra explained. “He has been with us for six months, taking classes at the Citadel.”

“A flying city?” Vic said. “Cool!”

Gwen was more skeptical, as always. “What exactly do you mean by a flying city?”

“It is a city that flies,” Sharif said, his tone suggesting that the answer should have been obvious. “That is why we call it a flying city.”