The Final Storm: The Door Within Trilogy – Book Three

Robby hoisted Aidan’s backpack behind him and made his way home, his mind spinning. He sighed with relief when he saw that his father’s sleek black sports car was gone. Robby crept into his house. There was no sign of anyone, so he ran upstairs to his room, shut and locked the door, and lay down on the bed.

Is it possible that everything Dad taught me about The Realm, about Paragor, is a lie? Robby turned onto his back and looked up at his shelves crammed with trophies. He saw the tall state championship trophy, delivered by his game-winning goal. He thought of his father returning after so many years. He thought of Count Eogan coming to earth. Paragor’s three guarantees had all come true! That’s got to mean something.

Then he thought of Aidan. Robby had never had a friend like Aidan before. Not in all the years in Florida, not on any of his sports teams. Never. All those other kids that called themselves friends—Robby knew they just hung around because he was good-looking and very good at every sport he ever tried. Fashion friends. That’s all they were.

Aidan, on the other hand, took the time to get to know Robby. He listened when Robby was feeling down. Robby grinned. Aidan wouldn’t care if I looked like a catfish on a bad hair day or I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a baseball. He’d still be there for me.

But Aidan hadn’t been there when Robby needed him. He had moved. Once again, Robby had been hurt by someone he trusted. Paragor had promised to give Robby power enough so that no one would ever hurt him again. And Paragor had brought his father back. Robby could not ignore that.

But as much as Robby wanted to be powerful—invulnerable even—he could not dismiss what he had just seen. Aidan had shown Count Eogan’s stories for what they were: lies. Aidan really had been to The Realm. Robby could tell by the changes in Aidan’s personality—his confidence, his attitude, his actions. And Aidan had seen things that Count Eogan could not refute. Robby just couldn’t make his mind stop spinning.

Then, as if painted in large letters on the side of a building, came an answer: the Scrolls. Robby grabbed up Aidan’s backpack, started to open it, but stopped and looked at his bedroom door. He knew the consequences would be severe if his father caught him reading Aidan’s Scrolls. No, he thought. I’ll hear Dad’s car pull up. I’ll just stash the Scrolls if he comes home.

Robby took out the Scrolls and untied the leather lace that bound them. He stared down at the first line:

Outside of time and place,

there is a realm of

great nobility and renown.

As Robby began to read, he felt a peculiar sense of nostalgia, like after being away on a long trip he had finally come back home. Line after line, page after page, his excitement grew. But then he came to the story of a brave young knight, rising through the ranks to become one of King Eliam’s elite Elder Guard. It was the story of Paragal, the King’s most favored.

Something came over Robby as he began to read the account. He found that he couldn’t focus. His vision blurred. And then Robby’s eyelids fell, and his mind’s eye wandered far away. A picture began to emerge. There was a handsome young knight seated at a table in a very small chamber. Behind him were shelves piled high with innumerable rolls of parchment. As Robby stared, the picture became remarkably clear, more like a window.

Robby’s door flew open so hard that it slammed into the wall. Robby jumped up, scattering pages of parchment.

“What are you doin’, son?” Robby’s father asked, his jaws so firmly set they appeared to bulge. “And why was your door locked?”

Robby shook his head and retreated until his back hit the wall on the other side of the bed. “I . . . I have Aidan’s Scrolls,” he whispered, trying desperately to summon more courage. “I was reading them.”

“I thought I made it clear you were not to see Aidan again.” Robby grabbed up all the loose pages and clutched them to his chest.

Mr. Pierson glared at his son. “Give those to me right now, Robby!”

Robby swallowed and stood to face the man in his room. “I know what happened in Alleble that night,” Robby said quietly. “Aidan saw it. And now, I’ve seen it. I know that Paragor plotted behind King Eliam’s back and murdered him and his Elder Guard. And at last, I know that everything you ever told me about The Realm is a lie!”

Mr. Pierson raised a fist, but Robby was too fast. He ducked the blow, slipped out of his room, and swiftly pulled the door shut behind him. Then, Scrolls in hand, he bounded down the stairs and out the front door. Mr. Pierson slammed open the bedroom door and leaped down after him. But by the time Mr. Pierson strode out into the front yard, Robby was on his bike and a hundred yards down the street.

“You won’t get away, Robby!” Mr. Pierson screamed. “Paragor will find you!”

Robby pedaled with all his might. At the turn in the road, Robby tried to jump the curb. But he didn’t make it. His shins and elbows burning from new scrapes, he stood up and saw that the bike chain was broken.

Not knowing what else to do, Robby grabbed up the Scrolls and sprinted into the woods.

The sun was just about gone, so when Robby disappeared under the canopy of trees, he found himself in a landscape of shadows. Gnarled trees with grasping branches rose up on both sides of the narrow path. Unseen briers ripped at his pant legs. Invisible spiderwebs caught in his face and mouth. Still, Robby ran on! Not knowing where he was going—just running . . . escaping. Then a voice inside his head said . . .

“There is nowhere for you to hide. You cannot escape me. You are mine.”

Robby’s heart hammered against his rib cage as he sprinted up the path recklessly. His gait, normally graceful and athletic, was now awkward, frantic, even crazed.

“I will never let go of you. I am always waiting, even in death.”

“No, stop it! Get out of my head! Stop!” Robby tripped over a root and flew headfirst into a thicket of briers. His face stung from a dozen fresh scratches and his body ached. He clutched the Scrolls and curled up at the base of a tree, staring out into the dark woods.

A great winged shadow rose up among the trees, and Robby heard the cracking of branches. This thing was getting closer.

Robby shook uncontrollably. From the shadows came a long hissing intake of breath and then a deep, angry growl.

“Please, King Eliam . . . ,” Robby cried. “I . . . I don’t know if you’re out there! I don’t know if it’s too late, but please help me.”

No sooner were those pleading words spoken than there was a blinding flash of blue light up ahead. The creature roared, but the roar was cut short by a crack of thunder. And then, all was still.

Robby’s mind raced, and he wondered what had happened. Had King Eliam rescued him? Robby tried to remember everything Aidan ever told him about the King of Alleble. But the thought that kept coming to his mind was to look at the Scrolls.

Robby stared at the Scrolls. It was impossible. Too dark to see anything. But then Robby felt a tingle in his right hand. And suddenly that page of parchment began to shimmer. Words began to appear written in bright golden light, as if an invisible hand was writing upon the Scroll.

Line after line appeared until, at last, there was a glowing block of text right there in front of Robby. He gasped and began to read:

There are passages and doors

And realms that lie unseen.

There are roads both wide and narrow

And no avenue between.

Doors remain closed for those

Who in sad vanity yet hide.

Yet when belief is chosen,

The key appears inside.

What is lived now will soon pass,

And what is not, will come to be.

The Door Within must open,

For one to truly see.

A poem! Robby thought. Aidan had said something about a poem. But it’s like a riddle. What is “The Door Within”?

Then, as before, in glistening golden light, two new lines of text appeared.

Do you see?

Believe and enter.

Yes! Robby thought. I want to enter! I want to go where Aidan went. I want to get out of here right now!

He waited a few heartbeats, wondering if King Eliam would just suddenly appear and whisk him off to The Realm. Nothing happened, and that, Robby thought, meant there was more to figure out.

Robby had never been very good at riddles. Still, he felt passion stirring inside, and he wanted desperately to understand. Realms that lie unseen—that’s got to be The Realm, he thought. Doors remain closed for those who in sad vanity yet hide. Robby knew that vanity was kind of like being conceited or prideful. His sister Jill and her constant primping came suddenly to mind.

“But no,” he voiced his thoughts aloud to the Scrolls. “I’m the one who’s been hiding, aren’t I, King Eliam? Aidan tried to tell me about you, but I didn’t listen. My dad came home, and I bought every one of his lies just because I wanted a father again. I figured I was finally getting life to go my way. Now look at me. I feel more powerless now than I ever have in my whole life, and I still don’t have a father!”

“My power can work through your weakness.” A voice spoke to Robby. Not the raspy, condemning voice he’d heard before. No, this voice felt warm and somehow wholesome. There was safety in this voice—and understanding. “No servant of Alleble will remain fatherless.”

Tears streaked down Robby’s face, and he stood up. The terrors of the woods were gone—vanished like storm clouds driven by strong wind. When belief is chosen, the key appears inside. It was all starting to make sense. One by one, the answers to the riddle began to appear.

“I choose to believe in you!” Robby cried aloud. “I want the key!”

A warm breeze flowed over him, and he stared down again at the golden text upon the Scroll. What is lived now will soon pass, and what is not, will come to be. Robby felt a yearning, an aching of his heart to let everything go—to leave all the frustrations, fear, and loneliness behind. To throw himself on the mercy of King Eliam and be a servant of Alleble.

The Door Within must open, for one to truly see. The final piece of the puzzle became as clear to Robby as the dazzling golden text upon the Scroll. I need to enter a door inside me! he thought excitedly, and he closed his eyes.

At first, Robby tried to imagine a picture of a door, but soon he simply relaxed and let his mind wander. The darkness lifted and before him was a cliff. A narrow, rickety-looking plank and rope bridge extended out over a chasm of unknowable depth and disappeared into the white haze far away.

Robby pictured himself approaching the bridge, and somehow it was clearer in his mind’s eye than anything he had ever imagined before. He looked warily down at the foundation of the bridge, staked down to the cliff. It seemed secure, as if it had been there for many ages past and would be there for many ages to come. Robby took a step closer, and peered over the edge. The distance fell away so quickly that Robby caught his breath and hurriedly stepped backward.

It was silly, Robby thought, to be afraid of something that he had just conjured up in his imagination. But there was little comfort in that thought, for the bridge—and the potential to fall—began to feel more real than the woods on the edge of his neighborhood. Tentatively, Robby reached back with his free hand to feel the large tree that should be behind him. But there was nothing behind him.

The bridge beckoned, and Robby knew he must cross.