The Lost Realm (12 page)

Water! It's water!

Gulph clamped his mouth shut and kicked out.

Which way is up?

He didn't know. Perhaps he was swimming deeper within whatever pool he'd fallen into, swimming down to his death.

His lungs were burning. Soon he would have to breathe.

When I do, I'll drown.

Finally he broke the surface. Flinging back his head, he drew in a ragged breath. The cold water drained from his face, leaving him gasping in warm, humid air. He churned his legs, fighting to stay afloat.

“Tip your head back,” said a nearby voice. “Waggle your arms.”

It was Jessamyn, treading water beside him with a small child's easy grace. She looked fearful but determined.

“My mother says that legs want to float,” she added. “You just have to let them.”

Gulph did as Jessamyn said, tilting back his head and waving his arms slowly just below the surface. To his surprise, his legs bobbed up. With almost no effort at all, he was floating on his back, staring straight up.

What he saw took away what little breath he'd managed to gather.

High above him was an immense arch of deep purple. It seemed to glow faintly. Within it, a thousand tiny pricks of light twinkled like stars. It was vast and beautiful, a breathtaking twilight sky.

The sky? How can that be, when we're so far underground?

Then he saw it wasn't the sky. It was the ceiling of a cavern, a gigantic chamber made of craggy purple rock. Rock that shone with an inner light.

Not rock. Crystal!

“Gulph! My liege! Are you all right?”

Ossilius swam up to him. Blood ran freely from a gash on his forehead. Gulph realized his own face was stinging; when he looked at his hands, he saw they were covered in scratches from the rockfall.

Close behind Ossilius was Hetty, who was struggling to keep an unconscious Marcus afloat. The soldier's head bobbed and he mumbled incoherently.

“I'm fine,” Gulph told Ossilius. “Help him.”

They clustered around Marcus, taking it in turns to support the soldier. The water lapped around them, tiny ripples sparkling in the purple glow of the crystal ceiling. To Gulph's amazement, the water itself also seemed to be aglow.

It's silver!

“We have to get him to the shore,” said Hetty, as Marcus's head dipped briefly under the water.

“There is no shore,” Ossilius replied.

Gulph saw that he was right. No matter which way he looked, all he could see was an expanse of silvery liquid melting slowly into darkness.

What now?
he thought, panic rising.

Jessamyn gave an excited squeal. “Look! A boat! Over there!”

A slender vessel was gliding toward them through the eerie twilight. Two figures steered it with long paddles: a man and a woman, both dressed in flowing silk robes. Their faces were as pale as milk.

“Climb aboard,” said the man as the boat drew up alongside them. “Be quick now.”

Together they heaved Marcus into the boat, then clambered in one at a time. The man helped them, pausing occasionally to cast a wary gaze out across the water. The woman worked her paddle in silence, deftly keeping the narrow boat stable as its cargo steadily increased.

Gulph was last aboard. He flopped down in the curving hull.

“Thank you,” he panted.

“You were lucky we were out here.” The man's voice was low and soft. He nodded to the woman, and together they began to paddle the boat onward through the silvery water. The paddles made no splash, and no sound.

“Where are we?” asked Hetty.

“Celestis,” said the woman, speaking for the first time. Her voice was as smooth as the water.

“Celestis?” said Gulph. “What's Celestis?”

“This is Celestis.” The woman waved her arm out across the silver lake. “This is the lost realm.”

Gulph stared at her.

The lost realm. Does that mean we're lost too?

He glanced toward Ossilius and saw that the captain's mouth had dropped open. The rest of their companions simply looked confused. Above, stars twinkled in the dimly lit ceiling.

“Once there were three realms,” said the man. “Then came the time of change. Now there is a fourth. Yet none above know that Celestis lingers.”

Gulph's head was filling up with questions. All his life he'd believed there were only three realms in Toronia: Idilliam, Isur, and Ritherlee.

Three realms. Three siblings. The crown of three.

Yet here he was in a fourth realm he'd never known existed.

A dreadful fear stole over him.
The prophecy only mentions three realms. What if it's wrong? What if we're fighting for something that isn't true?

“Please,” he said, “tell us more! What was the time of change you mentioned? Does anyone here ever go up to Idilliam? How—”

“You will hear more,” said the woman, “when you are accepted.”

“If you are accepted,” said the man.

“If,” the woman agreed.

“Accepted?” said Gulph. “Who by?”

“The Lady Redina,” said the woman. “None can enter Celestis without her permission.”

“We need no permission,” said Ossilius through gritted teeth. “We have endured much hardship to reach this place, and none of it by choice.”

Moving in perfect unison, and without haste, their rescuers laid down their paddles and reached beneath their silk robes. Each drew out a long sword and held it aloft. The blades shimmered, and Gulph saw that they too were made of shining crystal.

“Permission must be granted,” the man repeated. “It is the way of Celestis.”

He thrust his other hand toward Ossilius, who tensed. Gulph held his breath. If Ossilius drew his own sword, they were all going back in the water.

Then he saw the man was presenting Ossilius with a small white cloth.

“For your face,” he said. “There is blood.”

Eyeing him cautiously, Ossilius took the cloth and wiped his face. The cloth came away bloody, but to Gulph's astonishment, the wound on his friend's forehead had vanished.

“Is that cloth magic?” he blurted.

The man shook his head. “Not the cloth. The water.”

“It heals,” said the woman.

Gulph realized his own face was no longer stinging. He stared at his hands. The scratches were gone, with no trace of scars remaining.

At the far end of the boat, Marcus sat up, rubbing his head.

“Where are we?” he said.

While the two Celestians rowed silently through the silver water, Gulph sat with Ossilius at the boat's prow.

“There is an island, see?” Ossilius pointed. “The lake surrounds it, like a moat.”

Gulph gazed in wonder at the approaching landmass.
Except it isn't really land
, he corrected himself.
It's crystal. This whole place is made of crystal.

And so it was. The shore toward which they were gliding was a tangle of diamond shards, a thousand shimmering facets jutting from the water like a shattered crown. Beyond these rose slopes of green emerald set with smooth sapphire paths, meandering between tall, glassy buildings: an entire city made of crystal. Spires and soaring arches caught the sunlight and threw it back in a dizzying series of reflections.

No
, Gulph corrected himself.
Not sunlight.
“There's no day or night down here at all,” he said to Ossilius. “No weather.” He studied the people who were beginning to gather on the shore. “No wonder everyone looks so pale.”

He tried to imagine a life without sunshine, without rain. No storms, no seasons, just a perpetual twilight.
What a strange way to live.

“There!” said Ossilius. He sat up sharply. “Do you see that light?”

Gulph could just make out a thin bright strip on the opposite side of the lake, far from the island city. It was broken into sections by pillars of crystal.

Ossilius turned to Gulph. “Do you know where I think we are? At the bottom of the chasm.”

“What?” Gulph stared at him. “But that's impossible! The chasm's bottomless. Everyone knows that. . . .”

Just like everyone knows there are only three realms.

Could it be true? He peered out at the strip of light, struggling to organize the geography in his head.

We were in the tunnels under the city. Then we fell through into this cavern—a gigantic hole in the ground beneath Idilliam. So those pillars are holding Idilliam up above our heads. And what surrounds the city? The chasm.

“You're right,” Gulph said with a shiver.

“So we can see the light of day after all,” said Ossilius. “Very dim and distant, but there.”

“Perhaps we're not so lost,” Gulph murmured.

Jessamyn crawled between them, her small hand creeping into Gulph's.

“It's pretty here,” she said.

“Yes,” said Gulph, “it is.”

“Prettiness may hide many things,” said Ossilius.

“That's true too.”

“We must be on our guard.”

The silver water snaked between high crystal banks, finally opening into a wide pool. The woman moored the boat beside a set of steps leading from the water up to the grounds of a large house: a dazzling confection of diamond walls and ruby turrets.

The man led them ashore. Gulph ascended the crystal staircase with caution, afraid its surface would be slippery. But the ground was solid, and his feet found good purchase. At the top of the stairs, he stretched, working out the knots in his muscles. It didn't take long: his years as an acrobat meant his back was used to popping itself back into shape . . . even if that shape was more twisted than most.

A tall woman awaited them at the top of the stairs. Like their rescuers, she wore silk robes. Her face was round and open, her eyes an intense and beautiful blue. Her skin too was the color of milk.

“You have done well,” she said, addressing the man who'd brought them. Her voice was slow and strong.

“Thank you, my lady.” He gave a small, stiff bow, then hurried back down the steps to rejoin his companion in the boat.

“I am Lady Redina,” said the tall woman. “Celestis is my realm. Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, Gulph's stomach growled, very loud. Jessamyn giggled.

Lady Redina extended her hand in a flowing, languid gesture and stroked the little girl's hair. “So beautiful.”

“Pardon me, lady,” said Marcus, peering past her shoulder, “but is all that for us?”

With a smile Lady Redina stepped aside, and Gulph saw a long table standing beneath a gazebo in the grounds before the house. Servants stood behind crystal chairs, awaiting their arrival. The table was piled high with food.

Gulph swallowed. Except for their impromptu meal in the tunnels, he couldn't remember when he'd last eaten.

“How did you know we were coming?” he said as their hostess led them to their places.

“I have observers,” Lady Redina answered smoothly. She indicated to each of them where they should sit, her arms moving as gracefully as a dancer's. “Occasionally people fall. When they fall, they are seen. When they are seen, I am told. And I make ready to receive the newcomers. As I now receive you. Join me, please.”

Gulph hesitated, remembering what they'd been told in the boat.

“Does this mean we have your permission to stay?” he said.

Lady Redina inclined her head. “First we will talk. Decisions come later.”

The food was a thousand times better than the meager morsels they'd found in the tunnels. There was a kind of grilled fish that melted on Gulph's tongue, and plates of steamed vegetables that crunched deliciously, spilling spicy flavors down his throat.

Gulph tore into it all with gusto. He saw with no surprise that his companions were doing the same, snatching up spoonfuls of this and handfuls of that and shoveling them into their mouths. Lady Redina contented herself with small nibbles of white flesh from a crab's claw.

“Is there any bread?” asked Hetty, eagerly scanning the table.

“I fear there is only what you see,” Lady Redina replied. She daintily dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

“Oh,” the baker mumbled. “Well, it's very fine.”

Gulph noticed that they'd not been offered meat either.
No grass
, he thought suddenly.
Without proper sunlight there can be no fields. Which means no animals and no grain.

His belly was full now, but he swallowed the final mouthful of purple carrots in his bowl, leaned back in his chair, and let out an enormous belch.

“Forgive me!” he said, clapping a hand to his mouth. “But I do think that was the best meal I ever had.”

Around the table, everyone chuckled, including Lady Redina. Her laugh was like a low, tinkling bell.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she said. “Your satisfaction is evident. I am flattered.”