Crystal Doors #3: Sky Realm (No. 3) (23 page)

Holding tightly to his purple rug, Sharif soared upward again until he caught sight of the object he was looking for: an amber and purple bottle with a bulbous base. Since capturing her, Azric had kept Piri in the glowing jeweled container, asking her questions and draining her life force. Sharif knew no magic to get her out, but he could save her from Azric.

While Azric scrambled to his feet, Sharif swooped down, snatched up the bottle, and laughed with delight. The dark sage no doubt would have continued asking Piri questions that would help him destroy Elantya. Not only would Piri have been tortured by the thought of harming all those people, Sharif knew she would not have lived much longer. Holding the bottle by its neck, he sailed up into the air as the ominous, shimmering Air Spirits continued their thunderous attack, buffeting the floating city as if it were a rowboat in a typhoon.

“Here!” Sharif shouted to the closest Air Spirits. “I have Piri. Can you free her?” He grasped the long neck of the ornate bottle and with all his strength flung it out into the sky. The Air Spirits clustered around it like gathering clouds. Bright lights flashed and they dissolved the bottle entirely, breaking the spell, disintegrating the barriers that held Piri trapped.

She seemed to explode into the small but perfect form of a glowing, dazzling young lady — but much more than that. She spread her arms wide, her long hair fluttering behind her like silk in a wind storm, and launched herself up into the air. Sharif could not stop grinning. His heart was filled with joy. He threw open his arms and called, “You are free, Piri.”

The Air Spirits boomed. “Come, Piri. You are safe now. We must take you home.”

She shook her head.
I refuse.

“We can better guard you there.”

You did not,
Piri pointed out.
Safe with Sharif.

“Come with us. They drain our power. This is not our war.”

Safe with Sharif,
she insisted.
His war, my war.

“Do you invoke the Ancient Magic, then?” one of the Air Spirits asked.

Sharif friend.
Piri flew to his side.
Stay with friend.

“If it is your wish,” another looming djinni said, “then it is your right. Draw on the Ancient Magic, Young One.”

As Sharif raced away from Irrakesh on his carpet, Piri, no larger than his forearm, dove and looped and twirled along beside him.

Though the aeglors did not engage the enormous Air Spirits, the terodax were less intelligent. Dozens of them swooped toward the djinni and were immediately blasted out of the air. With lightning cracks and a roar of gale-force breezes, the Air Spirits flooded back through the crystal door into the skies above Irrakesh and dissipated.

But Piri stayed. Piri was free. How could Sharif have hoped for anything better? Tears of gratitude welled up in his eyes, but he knew his work was not done. Elantya and Irrakesh both needed him. Together he and Piri turned their efforts toward the continuing battle.

30

WHEN TIARET CROUCHED ON the large flying carpet holding her teaching staff, Vic thought she looked like a lioness poised to protect her cubs. Even Lyssandra, sitting at the back of the carpet looked formidable. Vic took the carpet low to the water. Upon seeing Tiaret, he was sure the merlons would turn around and flee rather than face her fury — if they had any sense. On the other hand, he didn’t think that Barak’s merlons had any sense.

The aquatic warriors were swimming through the waters toward the city. Up in the sky, aeglors and terodax continued their major attack, and if the merlon warriors reached the shore, they would swarm through the streets, intent on destroying everything they found.

“I am ready for them, friend Viccus,” Tiaret said.

“I am not so certain,” Lyssandra said.

Holding a club in one hand and flying the carpet with the other, Vic shrugged. “Fight now, agonize later, right?” He headed toward the hissing, scaly merlons. “I’ve bashed plenty of merlons in my day,” he said. “I can do that. It’s all those other things out there that worry me.”

From the edge of the harbor, the three battle krakens and the line of powerfully armored sea serpents were making a great froth in the water as they charged toward the docks. Goldskin and King Barak held back, guiding their troops, letting the first waves of attacking monsters form a shock front to weaken the Elantyan resistance.

Once again, Ulbar and his rebel merlons arrived to join the battle. Ulbar and his merlons rose up with a mighty roar. Many were mounted on orcas and whales, while others clutched the dorsal fins of dolphins. They rode in among Barak’s warriors, causing absolute mayhem.

“Barak will not retreat easily this time,” Tiaret predicted.

“Some people just never learn their lesson,” Vic said.

They reached the first line of merlon soldiers that were heading toward the beach. With a yowl of defiance, Tiaret attacked, leaning out over the water and swinging her teaching staff. They raised their sea urchin clubs and their scalloped-edged swords and clashed them against her blur of a teaching staff. Lyssandra picked off merlons with her arrowpult in her right hand and a spear in her left. Vic joined in the battle. With a heavy club, he smacked a merlon on the forehead, causing its tympanic membranes to ring with pain.

Elantyans ran along the shore with weapons, forming a line to block the merlon advance as some of the sea people made it to the beach.

“It cannot be,” Lyssandra said, pointing toward the edge of the harbor, where several ghost ships were visible. “The
Golden Walrus
!”

Vic smacked another merlon and looked up. As they watched, two Elantyan war galleys charged, the sailors rowing swiftly. Magically enhanced breezes caught their sails and pushed them forward.

Vic was shocked to see the sharpened prow of the lead galley — the one that Gwen and Sharif had been helping — plow directly into the rotted hull of one of the recently surfaced ghost ships. Wood cracked, hulls splintered, but the armored prow of the
Thunder Shield
was stronger. The keel of the ghost ship broke, and its already rotted and mangled framework began to fall apart.

Ulbar’s rebels surged in to attack the sea monsters, and five more rebel merlons, including Ulbar himself, rose out of the water riding giant broad-winged jhantas, like the huge manta creature that Sharif had befriended in the merlon city. Throwing spears and hurling spiked balls, the merlon rebels on the jhantas concentrated their assault on the behemoth shark that had already been wounded by a blast of Grogyptian fire. By now, however, the worse monsters had almost reached the main wharf.

The sea serpents and battle krakens would overpower Elantya’s defenses. Vic could see the impending disaster. Everything would change within a few moments. Suddenly he had an idea. Tiaret bashed an oncoming merlon soldier, twirled her teaching staff, and stabbed another sea warrior that tried to attack an Elantyan citizen.

“Tiaret, I need your help,” Vic said. “Why fight a couple of merlons when we can defeat all of the battle krakens and several sea serpents if we work together?”

Tiaret stopped. “Yes. That would be preferable. But how?”

“I’ll do my thing, and you do yours. The five of us have special powers for a reason, you know. Lyssandra, we’ll need you to cover us while we concentrate. Remember, you said we needed to learn new ways to combine our powers.”

Waving tentacles in the air, the three battle krakens swam forward, their bodies like bloated spiders, their round yellow eyes enormous and implacable. The sea serpents thrashed and hissed. Their spiny fins looked threatening. The patterns of leopard spots on their scales made them appear even more dangerous. Merlon commanders rode on some of them, while others simply plowed forward like destructive machines.

“We can stop them from getting to the wharf — I think.” Vic held out his hands, drew a deep breath, and thought about how he had worked his personal magic several times. It had been easy and instinctive.

A terodax dove toward them, rattling Vic’s concentration.

“Focus!” Lyssandra said. She pitched a sunshine bomb at the terodax, striking it at the juncture of its body and wing and blowing the creature to bits.

In his mind, Vic sketched an imaginary boundary in the air and, exactly as he had hoped, a large crystalline arch appeared, like a mirror that cracked and broke — a new crystal door leading to a strange and possibly unexplored place. Did he dare unleash these monsters on some unsuspecting world? Vic wondered. Gwen could always check in on them later to make sure they weren’t wreaking havoc in their new home, he supposed.
Big picture now, fine-tune later,
he told himself. The crystal door opened wide just in front of the charging battle krakens and the sea serpents.

Before they could stop or change their course, the monsters plunged through the crystal door and vanished. Right now, they were arriving on another world without merlons or slave masters to force them into causing destruction. Who knew? Maybe they would be happy there.

With a bright, hard-edged grin on her face, Tiaret summoned the magic within herself to slam the crystal door shut. One moment it sparkled in the air, the next it was gone. And the most gigantic and powerful monsters in the enemy navy had simply vanished from the battlefield. “An excellent idea, Viccus.”

Screaming in fury from his sea serpent, King Barak seemed suddenly and desperately weak. Beside him, Goldskin looked uneasy. She waved her trident in the air and commanded the merlons to continue fighting.

From the battered
Golden Walrus,
Orpheon launched several more lavaja bombs. One exploded on the shore behind the carpet. Rocks and sand sprayed up from the blast, and Vic turned to look at Azric’s henchman. An Elantyan war galley rammed a second ghost ship, smashing it and sinking it for good this time. The battle was far from hopeless. Vic flew the carpet toward the shore, where a line of merlons was emerging from the waves. Though more and more of them got past the island’s defenses and up onto the beach, the Elantyan citizens fought to drive them back and Tiaret threw herself into the fray. Vic could see that the odds were improving.

31

THE SKIES CLEARED WHEN the djinnis departed, carrying the storm and discharges with them. But the air over Elantya was still crowded with terodax and aeglors. Their squawking, hissing, and shrieking made a deafening clamor in Sharif’s ears.

From the battlements on the distant cliffs of the island, Sage Pierce’s newly emplaced cannons blasted up at the airborne warriors, scattering flocks of terodax, killing numerous aeglors. Unfortunately, some of the Grogyptian fire blasted craters into the underbelly of the flying city, as well. The rock foundation of Irrakesh began to crumble and boulders rained down from above. The cannons continued to rumble, desperately defending the island.

Sharif couldn’t let his beloved city fall apart, even if Azric was still in control of it. He traced some aja threads in his carpet pattern, and the rug headed back up to Irrakesh. Piri streaked ahead of Sharif, a glowing feminine ball of energy that flowed and flitted, scattering aeglors and producing showers of brown feathers. Azric had climbed to his feet on the balcony. Sharif wished the Air Spirits had swept the dark sage away with them, keeping him prisoner in the clouds as Azric had imprisoned Piri in a bottle.

Circling to the other side of the city, Sharif flew low and shouted down into the streets. “This is your Prince, people of Irrakesh. The aeglors are battling Elantya. You must help. This is the time to rise up. Break away from your guards — they are few and you are many. You must join this fight
now,
for as our people say, ‘Only the fool delays what must be done.’” He cruised lower, repeating his command in a loud voice, and people ventured forth from their homes and shelters. Piri flitted along with him, shining like a small sun.

Only a handful of aeglors remained in the city. Most of them had taken wing from the rooftops to dive down into the battle. “Spread the word. Defeat your enemies!” Sharif called, and people up and down the steep hills began to cheer. Heads popped out of darkened windows. Shutters were flung open, and men and women answered Sharif’s call at the tops of their lungs. Before long he saw brightly robed merchants and Viziers rushing into the streets.

Several aeglors flew down, trying to drive the citizens back, to keep them under control, but they failed miserably. The oppressed people of Irrakesh threw stones and pottery, hot cooking oil, walking sticks, makeshift spears, and knives. The winged captors shouted out a war cry, demanding assistance. The people swarmed out into the streets to defend themselves, to take back Irrakesh, and Sharif was amazed at how well they succeeded.

Piri blazed with a proud white light. Sharif laughed, wondering what would happen when Azric saw his plans crumbling. He cruised upward on the purple flying carpet to get a better view of the beautiful and intricate flying city.
His
city.

With a loud roar, something hurtled down toward him. Instinctively he ducked to one side and a studded club whistled through the air, missing his head by no more than the thickness of his little finger. Sprawled on the purple rug, he looked up to see the aeglor leader back-flapping his wings, a weapon in each taloned hand and diving back toward Sharif for a second attack.

“Irrakesh is my city now,” King Raathun bellowed.