October 2015

  Afternoon in the little town of Kerenger left Saul with few ways to keep his mind off his troubles. Most days he would sit and read at these hours. Any reference books and physical texts he could find fit his purposes. Such works certainly killed the daylight.

  The previous day he’d received a printed letter inviting him to meet at this little coffee shop, the only one in town. As he waited there with steam wafting from a cup of tea in front of him, he started to think she’d stood him up. That would be like Irene. Even after the past five years, he doubted she’d changed.

  He sipped his tea and considered leaving. The pretty barista working behind the counter, moved in an interesting way, possessing a precision he rarely saw in the local people. She was practically alone due to the other two sluggish employees, both preoccupied with their cell phones.

  The girl with the loosely-tied brown hair maintained intense focus. Her hands moved from one task to the next with a warrior's grace. Perhaps she trained in some kind of martial art. In recent years more and more women in the area seemed to join that kind of activity. Her gentle features reminded him of clouds on a bright day.

  A shadow danced as the door to his left opened. Irene Chambers wore black, an autumn coat dark as her thick hair. As usual, she carried a length of steel, but in this case it was an umbrella, or at least appeared as one to the eye. She stopped beside Saul's table and propped the umbrella against the table. Irene arched a brow and smirked at him.

  "I thought I was the one you came to see," she said.

  "Perhaps if you didn't keep me waiting."

  She sat down across from Saul. "Same old Saul, sympathizing with them." She leaned toward him and reached for his hand. "It's good to see you."

  He clasped her pale fingers in his. “Been too long," he said.

  She lowered her voice. "I was angry about what happened."

  Saul took a deep breath. "What I did—"

  "And what the guardians did to you." She shook her head. "I know it must be hard, being forced to live on Earth. After the way we grew up, I know you think a lot like I do. We both had the chance to create our own worlds.”

  "I did, once."

  "Don't tell me you prefer this place?"

  "To home? No. Of course not. But there is something honest about the people here."

  Irene snorted. "How can they be honest? They live ordinary lies every single day."

  "Clever words." Saul shook his head. "But you missed the point."

  She scowled. "Fine. Enlighten me. You're an expert on the earth born now."

  "For one things, they don't call themselves that. No humans are born anywhere else in this realm. It sounds redundant to them."

  Irene shrugged. “Of course. Now…” she produced a letter from her jacket pocket, still sealed, and handed it to him.

  “Aren’t we perfectly capable of talking now that we’re together?”

  “It isn’t for you. That letter is a petition for another hearing to end your exile.”

  Saul’s eyes widened. “Don’t joke about this sort of thing, Irene.”

  “I’m not joking.” She smiled. “I collected fifty signatures from other challengers. They all agree with me. You’ve served your time here for far too long.”

  He stared at the envelope, sealed with wax and bearing the official crest of the Chambers household. When he’d been a challenger, before his exile, he’d never have imagined any of his rivals offering to help him. Father always insisted not to rely on friends to keep one in the game. It risks failure, he’d said when questioned. Saul reached for the letter.

  Irene tugged the envelope out of reach. “Not yet. I’ve made an appointment for you with the town guardian this evening. But first, I’d like you to tell me something.”

  Saul’s heart sank. He put his hands on his knees, under the table where Irene couldn’t see them shake. His fury needed to stay hidden for the moment, though she’d likely guess how he felt. He nodded. “What do you want to know?”

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  She tapped the handle of her umbrella. “It’s about the broken relic sword.”

  His brows bent in a scowl. “It’s still buried in the caverns under this town,” he said. “Why? That relic can’t be moved. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I thought you’d say that. Please, explain for once. What is so dangerous about the relic?”

  “It was a maker weapon once.” Saul shot a pointed look at Irene’s umbrella, more than before certain it concealed one of her personal maker-forged blades.

  “You saw it, then?”

  “Yes, before my exile. Otherwise I wouldn’t have guessed the shape of it. The moment I descended into the caves the essence within the relic called out to me. But Irene, it’s power isn’t like ours. Whatever lives in that broken sword is tremendously powerful and not of human make.”

  She nodded, looking solemn. “It must be some kind of gern, then.”

  “I think so,” said Saul. “It had the scent of them.”

  Irene wrinkled her nose. “You smelled it?”

  Saul shrugged. “Regardless, it is bound to attract attention of other forces if moved. I don’t think anything so powerful could be hidden outside of somewhere heavily warded like the caves.”

  “Thanks for telling me all this.”

  “I’ve been here for years. It helps to talk if someone believes you.”

  “I didn’t say I believed your whole story. Even if that sword has a dead gern’s essence in it, I don’t believe it could be as old as you stated in your testimony. What I do believe is that it may be strong enough ton serve as a spark for a new world under a maker’s power.”

  Saul sipped his tea. “My opinion is the same as it was then. On both counts.”

  Irene pushed the petition toward him. “Your meeting with the guardian is at 5 PM local time. That leaves you an hour to prepare.” Irene stood up, taking her umbrella in one hand.

  “Is that it?” Saul asked. “After all this time?”

  “I’ll see you later, Saul.”

  “Doubt it,” he said.

  She turned and walked out the door. He glowered after her. After few minutes of dark thoughts he finished his tea. The barista walked over to his table. He was the only patron left in the place.

  “Finished with your dishes?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  She smiled at him and picked up his cup and saucer. “Well, we’re about to close. Good luck.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t like my chances.” He reached for his coat, then stood. He stashed the envelope, seal-unbroken in his pocket.

  “Things can’t just keep getting worse.”

  Saul nodded to her. “I hope you’re right.” He walked toward the door, then glanced at the clock on the wall. It read half past four.

  As he stepped into the dying sunlight, he wished he’d asked the coffee shop girl her name. Then again, if he got the luck she wished him, he might not return anytime soon, if ever. He set off toward the passage house across town. Though such places looked ordinary from the outside, they contained the paths that led between worlds.

  Unfortunately, this house’s guardian was all-too-familiar with Saul.

  “Good luck,” he repeated as he approached the door near the center of town. He raised his fist and knocked.

  * * *

  Minutes later, Saul stood inside the passage house. He gazed across a table from the district’s chief guardian, ready to argue his case once more. Saul gripped the back of the chair in front of him with both hands, knuckles white from the pressure. Irene’s petition hung pinned by a finger, still in it’s envelope.

  The guardian, Jackal Reed, cast a skinny shadow from the other side of the table, bisecting the polished wooden surface with darkness.

  He frowned at Saul. “What do think this meeting can accomplish besides wasting my time?”

  “It’s been years. You think the council of worldmakers really cares to keep me trapped here? Besides.” Saul brandished the envelope Irene had given him. “I have a petition now.”

  “I know for a fact you’re beneath most of the members’ notice, nephew. However,” Jackal raised both hands and shoulders in a dramatic shrug. “I care enough to give you late advice. You shouldn’t have told that exile girl the truth about us, and about Hidria and what lies beyond the Earth.”

  Saul removed his other hand from the back of the chair. He made a fist at his side. He wanted to remind Jackal how he’d always be the inferior maker, the failure of his family.

  Saul gritted his teeth. “You shouldn’t have killed her.”

  “On that matter, the council will always side with me. Too bad you admit to the one crime you actually committed. The truth of the worlds must remain hidden from the earth born. Your father would tell you the same thing if he could be bothered with you at all. No petition will change that while I manage this passage house.”

  “But you’ve done worse.”

  “We both know that, nephew but the council will never know or care.”

  Too bad no recording devices or creatures are allowed in this room, Saul thought. Likely no such device would even function inside, thanks to Jackal’s precautions. Saul hated his uncle enough to know all too well how careful the guardian protected himself.

  “I will go back to Hidria, Jackal, and when I do you will regret this.”

  “Go home, nephew. I’m done with you.”

  No, we’re not done, Saul thought. This won’t end until I have my home and my rightful title of worldmaker.

  He turned his back on Jackal and left the house for the gathering gloom outside. Inwardly, he seethed as he followed the sidewalk, plotting a way to return in the deepening dark.

  Bitter, yes. Impotent, for now. Irene must have sensed his weakness. What was her game here on earth? For the moment all he could do was guess.

  One thing Jackal should take more seriously was the labyrinth of caves beneath Kerenger, given what lay at the center of the deep network of tunnels. Saul didn’t doubt unearthing the broken sword would be disastrous without the proper care. Another week, another month, another year, and perhaps he’d be ready. Tonight, he planned to avoid the entrance, if only to calm his temper. More importantly, he couldn’t give Jackal a reason to seal the place the earth born exiles had built over the labyrinth’s entrance. Gatewood Hall hid the secret of Kerenger from everyone who refused to open the grate in the basement.

  A power older than civilization rested below. The indomitable power to create a new world or destroy this one. Saul turned toward the large house he called home here on Earth that once belonged to his Father.