Keeper of the Realms: Crow's Revenge (Book 1) (15 page)

Charlie studied his Human features. His head was completely bald and his bronzed skin shone softly in the moonlight. Long, thick eyebrows hung low to merge with his huge grey beard, which swept majestically to his chest. Wooden beads had been threaded through his beard and they softly clicked and clacked together as the night wind blew across the bridge.

For all his obvious age, he looked incredibly powerful and strong. Charlie couldn’t help but think of paintings she had seen in the National Gallery back home in London. The ones that showed powerful Roman generals and Greek gods, greying, aged, but still mighty and very much in control of their elements.

‘You were the one who told me about my parents and Bane’s Tapestry, weren’t you?’ Charlie said. ‘In fact, you were the third to support the motion that the Jade Circle tell me the truth about my parents.’

‘That is correct, young Keeper,’ he said with his warm, golden voice.

‘Who are you?’ asked Charlie.

The stranger smiled warmly. ‘My name is Azariah … Azariah Keeper.’

17

The Awakening

Graceful, ancient columns that stretched as far as the eye could see reared up to caress the vaulted ceiling. The walls, if there were in fact any, were hidden in the darkness.

The chamber smelt old, musky and faintly of liquorice. A layer of unmarked rock dust lined the floor, free of any footprint or mark. A slight breeze, almost unnoticeable, wafted around the huge space, gently stirring rows and rows of brightly coloured silken cocoons that hung from the ceiling.

Excluding the rhythmic swaying of the pods, all was silent and still and had remained so for a long, long time.

Until now.

A thick beam of white light burst into the columned room, invading the darkness and washing the ceiling with a warm glow. The chamber soaked up the light, taking on a golden radiance that pulsed and throbbed rhythmically, like a living heart. After a short period, the light slowly faded and, once again, the room returned to its former darkness.

One of the cocoons began to bulge. Flexing and stretching, it shook as its occupant, after almost seven years of silent sleep, awoke. A sharp talon poked its way through and began to saw at the thick membrane of the pod. Bit by
bit, a tear was made, and, withdrawing its talon, the pod’s inhabitant slowly began to force its way through. After a brief struggle a dark, mysterious shadow wriggled free and fell, quite clumsily, to the hard floor, where it landed with a thud and a billow of dust.

It lay there for a while, in the shadows, collecting its breath and allowing its eyes to adjust to the gloom. Then it eased itself to its feet and stretched. Really stretched. Muscles that had never before been used cracked and groaned. Shaking its lithe, powerful body, it padded across the chamber, sniffing at the air and looking up longingly at the other cocoons that lined the ceiling. All were silent and still.

Slowly it collected its thoughts.

Something had awoken it.

It remembered a voice, a needy voice. A voice that had cried out in fear. A voice that it somehow knew. A voice that tasted like the scent of family. Raising its head on its long, sinuous neck, it again stared upward at the other dormant cocoons containing its brethren, its sisters and brothers. Up there was its family.

But oddly enough it was quite sure that the frightened voice also belonged to a member of its family. And that was reason enough for it to have awoken. Family and all matters relating, it took very seriously and to heart.

The creature didn’t know why it would have family outside this chamber. Or why they might need its help so urgently. All it knew was that it had to go. A strong urge was pulling it, tugging it northward to an unknown destination. Somewhere that was far, far away.

Powerful muscles bunched and tensed. With long, smooth
bounds, the creature took off. As it ran past the eerily silent columns, it realized with a sinking feeling that it would never reach this mysterious family member in time. The distance was too great. It sensed days of travel lay between the two of them and that whatever danger threatened its relative was already perilously close. But nevertheless it had to try.

For family.

The columns flashed by as it began to sprint faster and faster. Head down, tail outstretched, it streaked into a narrow tunnel. Warm, musky air filled its lungs as it bounded up the tunnel’s slope. Twisting and turning, the passageway led upward, always upward.

The tunnel’s darkness began to fade and ahead the mysterious creature could see a slash of night sky. With a triumphant growl, it burst out and, increasing its stride, tore along the barren mountainside. Charging forward, it headed at breakneck speed towards a sheer cliff. Ligaments stretching and muscles popping, it approached the drop and, with a last, final effort, it jumped.

The sound of the wind rushing by and the glorious sense of free-fall delighted the creature. As it plummeted, a fierce grin crept across its face. It was enjoying itself. With a sharp, snapping noise, leathery wings unfurled and sprang open, catching at the air, halting its unchecked descent. And with broad sweeps of its wings, the creature began to fly northward.

Searching for Charlie Keeper.

Hissing in pain and making half-hearted attempts to lick its wounds, the Shade dragged its broken body along Deep-forest’s hidden paths.

Unlike its comrades, it had been fortunate enough to survive the long fall from Sylvaris. The forest canopy and countless branches had slowed its tumbling descent. Bouncing from tree limb to tree limb, it had miraculously survived.

But it wasn’t happy. It had failed and failed miserably in its task. The master would not be happy.

Growling, muttering and gasping, it crept painfully through the undergrowth and slid, worm-like, into the dark recess of the newly created crevasse. It would take the dark paths back to the Western Mountains and there it would inform the master of all that had happened within Sylvaris. Perhaps, with luck, the master would grant it a quick release from its pain.

18

Questions and Answers

‘Oh, my days!’ squawked Charlie, as a thousand questions tumbled and flickered across her mind. ‘Are you part of my family? Did you know my parents? And how did you do that? That jump was amazing – I can’t believe you managed it. And that light, what was that? How did it come out of your hands? Could I learn to do that? Are the Shades dead or have you just stopped them for now? How did you hear –’

‘Young Keeper,’ broke in Azariah, putting an abrupt end to Charlie’s torrent, ‘you must learn to control your mind and through that your tongue.’

‘But –’

‘No buts. Conserve your energy. Observe, listen and you will learn a lot faster,’ intoned Azariah. ‘Now then, I think that perhaps it would be wise for me to escort you back to Willow Tower. Along the way I will allow you to ask three questions.’

‘Three questions!’ gasped Charlie, ‘Why just three? I’ve got so many –’

‘Because I do not desire to spend the whole night answering
the questions of a young girl who should really be in bed!’ interrupted Azariah. ‘By asking less and studying what occurs around you, perhaps you could answer some of these questions for yourself. Now then, that was one question answered, so you have two more to ask.’

‘What! But that’s unfair! That wasn’t a real question – at least, not one of the three that I wanted to really, really ask you.’

‘Well, young Keeper,’ said Azariah, ‘this is exactly what I was talking about. If you engaged your mind more you would not make such foolish mistakes!’

Charlie wanted more than anything to just stand there and stamp her foot in indignant rage. Was he mad? Just three questions! And what was worse, she had the distinct impression that her saviour was smirking at her from behind his beard.

What questions to ask? What was most important to her? That light was amazing: how did he do that? And that jump, no Human could have done that. It must have been magic!

Ooh!
thought Charlie.
Two questions weren’t enough. No way!

But she realized there was one burning question that had to be asked first. The others could wait.

‘You said you were Azariah Keeper,’ she ventured. ‘Does that make you family?’

As the two of them walked side by side, Azariah stared down at her with something approaching admiration.

‘So you did manage to focus your mind. Well done, young Keeper. You do your family name proud.’

He was silent for a while, but Charlie didn’t press him.
She could tell he was collecting his thoughts.

Finally he answered her in that strong, strange voice of his. ‘No, I am not family, or at least you and I are not tied by blood connections. We are, however, bound to one another in our duties to safe guard the Ways and Paths of the realms of Earth and Bellania. I am aware that at your young age, and as a direct result of not knowing your parents for these last seven years, you will not have been instructed in your duties and sacraments, but nevertheless as a Keeper of the Realms these are yours to maintain and be true to. In this, our honour-bound obligation, you and I are in a sense family. And as such you can rely on me to protect you as well as I can while you are in Sylvaris. Now then, Charlie, your final question of the night.’

Charlie tried to take in all that he had said before she
asked the final question. Things just seemed to get weirder and to think that her parents had seemed so, well,
normal
. It was hard to believe that any of this was real, but when she pinched her arm it hurt so she knew she wasn’t dreaming. Charlie sighed. As desperate as she was to know all the details of tonight’s occurrences, there was something more important to be asked.

‘Were you and my parents friends?’

‘Yes, Charlie, we were. In fact, I owe my life to Mya and Elias Keeper. Without them I would not be here now,’ said Azariah. ‘And that is all I will say on the matter. Tonight I have answered all the questions that I care to answer.’

The two of them walked on in a bearable and oddly comfortable silence until they reached Willow Tower.

‘I assume,’ asked Azariah Keeper, ‘that Jensen the Willow is not in, correct?’

‘I don’t think so,’ admitted Charlie. ‘His sister is home, but Jensen said he was going off earlier to sort out his business, and then I fell asleep.’

‘Very well. I shall escort you inside and await his return.’

Jensen had been to visit Stotch’s family and share their grief. Not stopping at Stotch’s house, he had also visited the homes of the other four fallen Tremen to pay his respects. Bane’s war had been hanging over Bellania for longer than he wanted to remember, but it had never come this close to him before. Charlie’s arrival was proving a turning point in more ways than one.

Returning home from his weary evening, he entered the Willow Tower. Jensen paused at the foot of the spiral staircase. He would check on Charlie to make sure everything was all right before making his own way to bed. The poor girl had had a lot of shocks the past few days. Jensen grinned ruefully. She was a strong girl – like her parents – and had a good heart.