The Final Storm: The Door Within Trilogy – Book Three

This is grievous news!” exclaimed Kaliam. He banged his fist on the table, startling all those assembled in Guard’s Keep. “Mallik, is there nothing your resourceful folk can do?”

Mallik’s coppery brow was knotted in anger. He wore a sneer of distaste as he spoke. “Paragor’s attack was more precise than we ever could have imagined. Some of our cutting tools were spared, but every last one of our wind-carriages was burned to cinders! We are resourceful, yes, but we cannot carve walls without tools—nor transport stone without carriages!”

“In spite of our careful planning,” said King Ravelle, “the enemy then stays one step ahead!”

“So it would seem,” Kaliam replied. Lady Merewen’s light touch on his forearm calmed him enough to sit down.

“The gray walls of Alleble are yet proud and sturdy,” said Queen Illaria. “Can they not buffet Paragor’s attack?”

Farix answered, “If all the enemy brought to bear on us was his catapults and his fiery projectiles . . . then yes, the walls of Alleble would stand. But the Wyrm Lord’s fire is a weapon beyond the strength of normal stone. He would open breaches in our defenses and allow Paragor’s foot soldiers to invade.”

“And that is our chief fear,” explained Kaliam. “Paragor may try to drop his forces behind our walls with his dragon carriages, but our own dragons and archers will limit their effect. But if he is able to break through the walls, we are then forced to abandon our plan of attack to plug holes in our defense!”

“What then is to be done?” Lord Sternhilt asked.

“What indeed?” echoed Kaliam, and he shook his head. “For the Wyrm Lord was a mere shadow of his former strength—shriveled and weak from his captivity—when Clarion fell to him like kindling. Now that he has been nursed to health in the bastions of Paragory, his fire will burn all the hotter. And who can say what powers the firstborn dragon will wield when his strength waxes?”

“It seems we have little hope,” said Nock.

“There is always hope,” whispered a voice from a hooded Glimpse at the chamber door. And yet each knight in the room felt as if it had been spoken privately in his ear alone. They all turned as the stranger lowered his hood. He had dark feathery hair flecked with gray and brushed to one side where it rippled like willow branches in the wind. Luminous blue eyes with huge dark pupils peered out thoughtfully from under gray brows. A slight smile appeared above his squared goatee, but it was the smile neither of joy nor of madness. No, this Glimpse’s expression was in many ways grim, but his smile spoke of confidence and security, an anchor in the room where the sea had become so turbulent.

“Naysmithe!” Kaliam said, and he stood and went to shake his hand. “You are most welcome. Long has it been since you have offered your wisdom in this room!”

“I only repeat such wisdom as I am given,” Naysmithe replied mysteriously. “But I say again, there is always hope. The Three Witnesses are coming.”

Eyebrows were raised and those at the table broke into murmurs. They spoke excitedly and asked such things as: “How do you know?” “Are the tales then true?” “Can they save us from the enemy?” and, of course, “Who are they?”

Kaliam studied the former Sentinel. “Naysmithe, friend and sage . . . why do you say this?”

“In a time when ancient, legendary evils threaten The Realm,” he said in that strange penetrating whisper, “the Three will come. All of Alleble awaits them. And soon I will complete the blades they will wield. It stirs the soul. Can you not sense it?”

Kaliam was silent. Though he could not explain how he knew, he could indeed sense the coming of the Three. Later, as he stood alone on the balcony above Guard’s Keep, he stared at the shadows in the west . . . and wondered.

“Mallik!!” Nock shouted as he sprinted into the dining area of Guard’s Keep. “At last I have found you!!” The hammer-meister was so startled he spit stew halfway across the table.

“Great moonrascals!” Mallik bellowed, swabbing his bearskin tunic with a clean cloth. “What in The Realm is the matter?!”

“You will never believe it, my friend!” Nock said. And he grabbed and tugged on Mallik’s thick arm. “Come, you must see!”

Mallik had barely enough time to grab his hammer before Nock dragged him out of Guard’s Keep, down several flights of stairs, and out into Alleble’s late afternoon sun. At last, they cut behind the gatehouse and made their way to the dragon pens.

There they found evidence that someone had been very hard at work. All of the pens had been raked clean of dragon scat. Huge, steaming mounds were piled in the dump zone beyond the last pen. The dragons all seemed to be resting contentedly on fresh straw. And that was not even the wonder Nock had brought Mallik to see.

For a young blond warrior with unusual pinkish skin lay upon the back of an enormous dark gray dragon. His eyes were closed, and his head rested between the creature’s shoulder blades. The dragon’s tail curled protectively over the knight’s legs. But what really caused Mallik’s eyes to bulge was seeing the four ivory-white spikes protruding from the dragon’s tail.

“King Eliam, save us!” Mallik cried. “Is he dead?”

“Nay, my friend,” Nock said. “Only sleeping.”

“But that is Splinter he is lying on!”

“I know!” Nock said. “Why do you think I came to get you?”

“Who would be so foolish as to sleep on that beast?” Mallik asked. “I would wager my beard he is another from the Mirror Realm!”

“That is Robby,” answered Nock. “A good friend of Sir Aidan’s. Lady Merewen told me he is to be Twelfth Knight on the mission into King’s Forest tomorrow. But hush, we must rescue him without waking the monster.”

Mallik and Nock tiptoed to the pen, and Mallik held his hammer high above Robby’s sleeping form. “Go ahead,” Mallik whispered urgently. “But mind the eyes!”

Being incredibly light on his feet, Nock leaped to Mallik’s broad shoulders and walked across the haft of his hammer. Nock hooked his legs around the huge steel head and dangled down until he could reach Robby.

“Robby,” Nock whispered. “Robby, wake up!”

Robby shrugged his shoulders, but his eyelids did not even so much as flutter.

“Robby!” Nock said a little louder. “Wake up! You are in danger!” This elicited a growl from Splinter. And finally Robby opened his eyes.

“Oh,” Robby said. “I’m sorry! I was fixin’ to get back to work, but I guess I must have dozed off.” Then he looked strangely at Nock and Mallik. “What are you guys doing?”

“We are trying to save you!” Nock exclaimed. “This dragon is untamed—very dangerous!”

Robby sat up with an amused look on his face. “What, her?” he asked. “She’s just a big ole pussycat!”

“Nay, Robby!” Mallik argued. “She is ornery and tempestuous! Trust us. We have seen her aroused.”

Robby laughed. “You’re joking! I know I’m the new guy, so I should expect it, but c’mon. You could at least come up with something serious!” Robby folded his hands behind his head and made no attempt to get off the dragon’s back.

“Grab on to Nock’s hands!” Mallik bellowed. His shoulders were beginning to wear down. “She is dangerous, I tell you!”

“Oh, stop!” Robby said as he spun around and straddled Splinter’s back. Then he made a clicking noise with his tongue and his teeth. Immediately, Splinter rose on all fours and spread her wings. She brought her nose close and nuzzled Robby’s chin.

“Ya see?” Robby said. Nock fell off Mallik’s hammer, and the two of them stared.

“I do not believe it!” Nock said. “No one has been able to saddle—much less befriend—that creature!”

Robby made another clicking sound, and Splinter took off from that spot and soared into the sky. She did a shallow loop, scattering loose straw all over Nock and Mallik before finally landing again in her pen.

“How did you do it?” Mallik asked, brushing straw from his armor.

“I don’t really know,” Robby replied. “I was cleaning her pen, and well, she just kind of warmed up to me. I’ve been that way with animals for most of my life.”

Mallik, Nock, and Robby talked about many things: the goingson in The Realm, their adventures with Aidan, and the possibilities of Robby’s mission. Robby didn’t know much about that. Mallik and Nock did, but they would tell him precious little. They did not want to say anything without leave of their Sentinel.

Often their conversation turned to Pennath Ador. They found that the three of them had in common a love for mountains, and in short order they became friends. With the sun beginning to fall toward the horizon, Mallik and Nock needed to leave. “We are due to meet with Kaliam,” Nock said. “But we will see you tonight at the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” Robby asked.

Mallik laughed. “Kaliam certainly enjoys keeping the new ones in suspense, does he not?”

“C’mon, you guys,” pleaded Robby. “Tell me something!”

“You will see,” Nock replied with a wink.

They started to go, but Robby asked, “Before you leave, I was wondering . . . do you know if it would be okay for me to take a little walk at the foot of the mountains?”

“That would be no little walk,” Nock replied. “But certainly it is permitted. I often go there myself. There is the beginning of a trail on the other side of the Elder Guard’s training compound. The path follows a steep incline through a dense patch of pines and will eventually lead you to the base of Pennath Ador. But do not linger past sundown, or you will miss your own ceremony!”

And with that, they departed.

Robby followed the narrow winding path through the pines, and just as Nock had foretold, it grew quite steep. Eventually, he broke through to the other side of the evergreens. And there it was. It really looks different up close, Robby thought. He couldn’t even see the snowcapped peaks. Just a sheer face of stone, much of it gray and angular with juts and clefts, and a few large fields of another kind of rock, smooth and white. Robby continued to look up until his neck ached. Standing at the foot of such a giant made him feel very small. Yet Robby felt a sense of peace—a sense of being protected by the great walls of stone all about him. Robby actually walked up and placed the palms of his hands on the stone. It felt cool, but somehow vibrant. Robby smiled.

“You like these mountains, do you not?” came a voice from behind. Robby turned and saw an older Glimpse warrior, clad all in white, sitting upon a stone. Robby hadn’t heard anyone approach, but there he was as if he’d been there all along.

“You like these mountains?” he repeated, and Robby found his voice somewhat familiar . . . though he could not say where he had heard it before.

“They’re awesome,” Robby replied. “Where I’m from, we don’t have any mountains like these.”

“Yes, I know,” the Glimpse replied. “There are no mountains like these anywhere in this world. These are the first mountains born in all of history. They are very powerful.”

“When I touched them, I felt . . .” A word came to Robby’s mind, but he did not speak it aloud.

“You felt loved.”

Robby stared at the old Glimpse. How did he—

“Of course the mountain itself does not express love,” the Glimpse continued, interrupting Robby’s thoughts. “But like all pure things at the dawn of time, they were washed in the love of their creator. In spite of The Schism, there are some who can still feel the pulse of that time. Some who can touch the memory of The Realm undefiled. You are such a one.”

Robby stared. The old Glimpse stared back and sat so very still that he almost looked like he was carved from the stone upon which he sat. He was a curious being. Long, straight white hair flowed like a river over his broad shoulders. His mustache and beard were also long, straight, and white. Only his eyebrows were a bit unruly. They too were white, but they were bristly and thick, especially at the bridge of his nose where they seemed almost to meet. His eyes were utterly blue—even in the failing light. And as Robby stared into them he saw a depth of intensity he had never seen before. There was bright, beaming gladness there, but also wrenching sorrow. There was great fatherly pride, but also disappointment. Empathy and indignation. Love and wrath. The only emotion Robby did not see in his eyes was fear.

And there was one other thing that Robby did not see in the old Glimpse’s eyes: He did not see them glint a color. Not even once. “Please, sir,” Robby said. “Tell me your name.”

“My name?” he echoed. “I am surprised that you do not already know it. But come closer and let us talk.”

He saw that the strange being was girt with an immense sword, but Robby felt no threat. He stood right before him and waited. At a gesture, Robby sat down upon another stone. They were silent for many moments. Robby’s mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions—like a barely simmering pot that suddenly came to a rolling boil.

“You still have doubts,” said the stranger. It wasn’t a question.

“Doubts?”

“About all this,” the old Glimpse replied, holding out his arms. “About many things.”

Robby suddenly felt on the spot. “Doubts, I’m not sure if—”

“It is okay to have them,” he said. “A doubt is nothing more than an invitation . . . an invitation to think. So, tell me, what have you been thinking about?”

“My father,” Robby whispered. And as soon as the words came out, he wondered why he shared them with this stranger. But his deepest thoughts began to pour freely out as if he were talking to his closest friend. “Well, it’s just that Dad’s on the other side. I don’t think he’ll change, and . . . I don’t want him to die.” Tears streamed down Robby’s cheeks, and he choked as he tried to speak again. “There’s so much at stake, but he doesn’t see. Mama and Jill—them too! I don’t know . . .”

“I know the separation that you feel,” said the Glimpse. He put a warm hand on Robby’s shoulder. “And I never intended for you—for any—to have to feel it like this. But take heart! You are never alone.”

“But my family . . .”

“There is yet time for your mother and your sister. But your father made his decision a long, long time ago. He was deceived, and because of his willful refusal to seek the truth, he can no longer see it.”

“But there’s a chance, right?” Robby asked.

The Glimpse nodded.

“I’ve got to try, don’t I?”

“Very well, Robby,” said the Glimpse. And it seemed that the sun had gone down, for the base of the mountain was robed in shadow. “You have decisions to make, beginning with this one: You can abandon your mission here and return to your realm—”

“But I don’t even know what my mission is,” Robby said.

“You know that you have been given a mission,” said the Glimpse, “and that is enough. The choice is whether you will fulfill that mission or return to your world in the hope of bringing your family to the point of turning. Some good will come of either decision, but you must choose tonight.”

Robby nodded miserably. “It’s . . . it’s hard,” he said.

The old Glimpse stood. “You demonstrated your trust,” he said quietly, “when you entered The Door Within. The only thing you must decide is whether you will continue to trust.”

Robby watched as the Glimpse walked slowly to the path that led through the evergreens. He turned and looked one last time at Robby, and he smiled. Then he vanished into the trees.

Robby buried his head in his hands and wept.

Not a moment later, someone put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Robby?” came a deep voice. “Are you all right?”

Robby looked up and there was Mallik, leaning on his immense hammer. “Nock told me you had probably come this way. But you are distraught. Has something happened?”

“I’m okay,” Robby said, standing and wiping the last of his tears away. “It’s just that I kind of lost it when I was talking to the old knight about my family.”

“Old knight?” Mallik looked confused.

“Yeah,” Robby replied, pointing to the path. “I mean, he looked old—still real strong—but old. You must have passed him on the path.”

“I passed no one on the path,” Mallik said.

“But you must’ve.”

Mallik shook his head. They stood in awkward silence for some time.

“Come, Master Robby,” Mallik said at last. “I cannot solve this mystery you have suggested. But perhaps Kaliam can. Now we should go. Many have gathered in your honor. I came to bring you to the main hall on time.”

“The ceremony?”

“Yes,” Mallik replied. “The very one.”

They turned to leave, but Mallik stumbled over a pumpkin-sized gray stone. “That smarts!” Mallik said, laughing at his own clumsiness. “But I suppose it could have been much worse. That stone could have just now fallen from up high and hit me in the head!”

Robby laughed so hard it hurt.

“Hey,” Mallik said, with a mischievous wink of the eye. “Before we go, would you like to see something?”

Robby nodded vigorously.

“Right, now stand aside,” Mallik said, a grin widening on his face. He snatched up his hammer to a great height. “Now watch the stone. You will see sparks for sure!”

Robby watched the stone just as he was told. Mallik flexed his massive arms and swung his great hammer down. There was a sound that reminded Robby of the icemaker on his fridge at home, and the stone exploded in a shower of green and yellow sparks!

“That was incredible!” Robby exclaimed. “Your hammer can break rocks?”

“The head of this weapon was forged of murynstil,” Mallik replied. “And my grandsire found a way to flash-temper it to a hardness beyond any stone in The Realm.”

“Cool!”

“Well, almost any stone,” Mallik corrected himself. “It takes me several swings to break the blue granite of my homeland, but it eventually shatters.”

“Can you do it again?” Robby asked.

“We really ought to get back,” Mallik said, grinning.

“Please!” Robby said. “C’mon, Mallik. Just one more time.”

“All right,” Mallik conceded at last.

Robby grinned and stood a few paces back as Mallik went over to the large white stone upon which the old Glimpse had been sitting. “Now this should please your desires!” Mallik said, and again he hoisted his hammer high. With great strength and terrible force, Mallik slammed the hammer down upon the white stone.

There was a thunderous sound that echoed off the face of Pennath Ador. But this time the stone did not shatter. Mallik’s hammer bounced and fell out of his hands. He ran in a tight circle, clutching his hands as if burned.

“GREAT MOONRASCALS!!!” Mallik howled.

“Are you okay?” Robby asked.

“Aye, lad!” Mallik replied, picking up his hammer. “I just must have missed the center with my stroke. It does that sometimes. Now stand back.”

Mallik took a deep breath and brought his hammer crashing down upon the white stone. And again the hammer bounced without so much as a tiny spark. Mallik dropped his hammer and screamed at the mountain. Then he ran back and picked up his hammer for a third try. This time when he lifted his hammer, he brought the head so far back that it almost touched the ground behind him. Mallik’s eyes bulged as he wrenched his body and swung the hammer in a huge arc.

The hammer’s head struck the stone a mighty blow. A sound like a cannon shot bounced off the mountain, and a small chip of white shot into the woods. There had been no spark, but a small lick of fire sprouted on the white stone and danced there for a moment before flickering and going out. Suddenly the top of a small pine tree toppled over and fell—exactly where the chip of stone had gone.

“Did you see that?” Robby asked.

“Aye, I saw it,” Mallik replied. “I saw it, but I do not believe it!”

“The old Glimpse who was here said this mountain was the very first mountain, that the white stone is powerful.”

“No doubt about that,” Mallik said. He whistled. “Why, this rock here is harder than the blue granite from my . . .”

Mallik’s voice trailed off, and he stared up suddenly at the massive face of gray, and among that, the huge fields of white stone.

“What?” Robby asked, looking from the white stone by his feet and back to the mountain.

Mallik grabbed Robby by the collar of his tunic. “Hurry! We need to get back to the castle!” And Mallik lumbered off into the pines.

“What?” Robby asked, stumbling after him. “What’s going on?”

“Well-done, Robby!” came Mallik’s voice from up ahead. “You may have just saved the Kingdom of Alleble!”