With the departure of the animal council, the shimmering cavern of the Raintree returned to a state of pristine solitude almost before their very eyes. The underground cavern that had been teeming with beasts like bees on a honeycomb was somehow, imperceptibly, swept clean of any debris, any smell. All signs of the gathering disappeared as naturally as the tumbling water of a stream purifies itself.How different from the sewage slag at the Gaterock or even from Roland’s vaporous memories of arenas emptied after a concert or fair.
A large wolverine splashed across the Raintree pool to join Roland and Sloat. This was Hatanwa, newly appointed general of the combined animal forces. Its black eyes burned savagely as it shook the water from its coat. Roland sensed a hair-trigger ferocity in the beast that made him uncomfortable.
“So you have seen the Accursed Realm and lived to tell about it,” Hatanwa said to Roland, dispensing with pleasantries. Although he objected strongly to such a negative characterization of a realm inhabited by creatures as magnificent as Seraphim, Roland decided to give this creature plenty of leeway.
“I need to get a few things straight,” continued the voice of Hatanwa. “We have established that there’s an interrealm conspiracy to break the realm bonds, and that all signs point to Ishyrus, a Seraphim of the Fifth Realm, as its instigator. What I do not understand is this: Seraphs are supposed to be good. If a Seraph is in charge of this operation, what are we to fear? Shouldn’t we expect some good result from its activity?”
Roland shook his head. “You would think so. There should be good results. Great results. Unbelievable results. The Seraphim are incredibly awesome. They would love nothing more than to live among us again and spread peace and joy and all that. And I cannot think of anything I would rather see. But all of the Seraphim, except for Ishyrus, oppose the breaking of the realm bonds with every fiber of their . . . all right, they don’t have fibers, but you know what I mean. They say the bonds must not be dismantled. And we’ve seen who Ishyrus allies itself with: the Raxxars, the cold-blooded Devil Throat on the island. Besides, if expects to complete this mission, it has to join with at least one of the Nephilim. Believe me, you don’t want any part of them. The realm bonds are all that stand between you and a terror you cannot imagine. Why Ishyrus would join with any of them is a mystery that Adonara cannot begin to unravel.”
Hatanwa turned to Sloat. "Has Ishyrus accomplished the necessary alliance with the other realms to attempt this realm breaking?”
“That appears likely,” said Sloat, with a curt nod. “We have knows for a time that the Brookings of the Second and the Raxxars of the Third are involved. As we have heard today, we now have strong reason to believe a Seraph is behind the whole thing. Any Nephil, of course, would jump at the opportunity. That takes care of both halves of the Fifth. The Morps of the First can be easily duped. That means the conspiracy lacks only a Fourth Realmer to complete the chain. We know that Cold Flames have been sighted in the Fourth and that Raxxars have entered this realm, possibly in force. That strongly suggests that the conspiracy of the Flames has penetrated this realm, as well. The connection appears to be complete.”
“What! Raxxars in the Fourth?" The news disturbed Hatanwa. "We have heard no reports of this! How would a Tishaaran, a Third Realmer, know of events in the Fourth that even the birds have not seen?”
“We came across one of them, freshly dead, in the Emperor Mountains. All signs indicate it was not alone."
“I must speak to the feathered ones,” growled Hatanwa. “We cannot have lapses like that in our vigilance."
"I would not go too hard on them. The Raxxars appear to have been going through Droom, and I do not imagine even the birds have much access to those lands."
Hatanwa growled, as if offended by the very name of Droom. "Very well, so there is no longer any doubt. The realm bonds stand at the brink of destruction, if they have not been broken already.”
“If they’d been broken, believe me, you’d know about it,” said Roland.
“Have there been any reports of the Cold Flames actually taking hold in the Fourth Realm?” asked Sloat.
“Not that I have heard,” said Hatanwa. “They appear and they burn for a time, then disappear with no lasting effect. But at each sighting, the flames leap higher, blaze more brightly and last longer.”
“Digtry made that same observation about our arrivals in the realms,” said Roland, thoughtfully. “Delaney showed up first, the furthest from the island and more in sound than in flame. Berch came next, closer to the island, with a lot of smoke and little flame. I came next, in the middle of almost pure flames that did not burn. Adonaram the Seraph told me that because the realm bonds were created by powerful forces, dissolving them is a ridiculously long and difficult process. The actual formulas or procedure for breaking the bonds were tucked away in some archives in Orduna, far away from Fifth Realm access, as another precaution. Adonaram suspects Ishyrus may have found a way to gain access to it.
“Maybe that is what we have been seeing. The process. Testing and experimentation. Working through trial and error, each building on the success of the last. And it’s not surprising that a lot of that would be happening in the Second Realm, if that is where the secrets have been stored.”
“What else do you know of the breaking of the realm bonds?” asked Hatanwa.
“Only that it’s really complicated. All kinds of safeguards were built in. The bonds must be broken in two places in succession--in two different realms. Adonaram compared it to cracking a double-shelled nut. The Fourth Realm bonds must be broken first. The other bonds must then be broken in the Second Realm within three days of this. If that happens, the destruction of all bonds is permanent. If not, any destroyed bonds will reform.”
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“What I hear you saying through a lot of irrelevant chatter is that there may yet be time to stop this,” said Hatanwa.
“Possibly,” said Sloat.
“And thanks to its carelessness, we know exactly where to find that idiot Seraph,” said Hatanwa.
Slooat and Roland glanced at each other. “How do we know that?” asked Roland.
Hatanwa plainly did not appreciate wasting time with explanations. “Because it tried to recruit us to go there,” he said gruffly. “There are dozens of us who all had the same dream, urging us to go to Point Harrow.” Dismissing Roland and turning to Sloat, the wolverine asked, “Suppose you were immortal and living outside your safe cocoon of immortality. What would you be thinking?”
As he often did when pondering a problem, Sloat began whittling on a piece of wood. Hatanwa, for all his impatience with what he regarded as superfluous talk, did not rush the thought processes.
After a great deal of consideration, Sloat said, “I would be in constant fear for my life.”
“Even with a strong army to protect you?”
“Even with a strong army to protect me. Especially if I walked in the same realm as the Droom.”
“What if Ishyrus recruited them?” asked Roland.
“Who? The Droom? Do you know nothing of them?” scoffed Hatanwa. “They are more than a match for us beasts in pride and stubbornness. They follow no one’s command, or even suggestion, but their own. They despise alliances, and they would contest any trespass into their domain as fiercely as the beasts.”
“Nor do they sleep,” said Sloat, softly. “You cannot dream if you cannot sleep. Ishyrus would have no way to contact them.
“Ah,” said Roland, embarrassed to have missed that point. He decided to sit out the rest of the conversation.
“As long as the realm bonds remain in force, Ishyrus stands in constant peril in this realm. It will not delay a second longer than it must. If we are to stop it, we have but one chance. We must race to Point Harrow with all speed.” A fierce gleam came into his eye, and it snapped its powerful jaws. “If we move quickly, we can trap Ishyrus against the sea and destroy it. It cannot escape to the Fifth Realm, for not even Ishyrus knows when and where the accursed realm will appear on the Fourth Realm shore. We can crush this insane meddler and rid the world of this menace once and for all. We must attack at once and pray that it is not too late!”
“Have you the forces for an attack?” asked Sloat, doubtfully. “Your strongest units--the wolves and bison--are absent. And can you fight with only such lean rations as you will find at Harrow?”
“As I see it, we have but one hope of protecting our children and all our descendants from eternal torment at the hands of the Accursed, and that is to stop the destruction of the bonds. If we are to stop it, we must do so NOW! So I do not see that we have a choice but to fight now, weak as we may be. We dare not wait to field a stronger force. Indeed, we can no longer afford to stand here discussing this. We must march at once to whatever fortune or doom awaits.”
Sloat looked doubtful. “Are there no allies on whom you can call?”
“There are the Gnomes. I shall send falcons at once to the Spectral Hills to ask their aid. “But if they do not come--”
He said no more, but Roland could fill in the missing words. As long as there was any chance at all of stopping the destruction of the realm bonds, Hatanwa would attack Ishyrus wherever he stood, though the legions of hell stood against him. He would do it by himself, if necessary.
As the wolverine splashed across the pool and rushed off to alert his command, Sloat sighed. “So it ends. Our mission is now accomplished.”
“Are you crazy? It’s just begun,” croaked Packory, bounding up from the cavern entrance.
Having been pulled along by the current of circumstance beyond his control for so long, Roland found himself ill-prepared for the debate that now arose. Once, he had believed that traveling to the Fifth Realm was his best hope of finding the source of power that could direct him back home. Having been there, however, he knew that avenue of escape was a dead end. No power on heaven and earth could ever induce him to return to the Fifth Realm. The spirit realm was beyond magic; it was occult. Although the time spent with Adonaram had provided moments of unimaginable bliss that he yearned to relive, no one in their right mind, no matter how strong their courage, would even consider exposing themselves to the threat of the Nephilim. If the Fifth Realm was the gateway back to his world, then it was settled; he would spend the rest of his days in the realmlands.
Of course, protection from the Nephilim no longer seemed assured no matter where he went. Should the realm bonds fall, those unspeakable horrors would be coming to him whether he wished it or not. But while he was yet under the protection of the bonds, he was stuck without plan or purpose.He could think of no course of action except to return to the Third Realm with Sloat. Tishaara was the one place in these realmlands where he had experienced any prolonged peace. Someday, if they managed to survive this coming war of the realms, and if the political situation settled down, perhaps he might venture back to Rushbrook to seek clues as to how he arrived in the realms. But if the Nephilim were coming, there did not seem much point in planning anything. Who could escape the Nephilim?
“Begging your forgiveness, Packory, but my choice seems to be either return home or try to rejoin my compatriots who have gone to find the wolves,” said Sloat. “War is no place for a Tishaaran.”
“War is no place for anyone,” said Packory. “But sometimes you find yourself there all the same. You could be useful. All reports say we are up against Ishyrus. The legends passed down in the lore of my family proclaim it to have a great intellect. We cannot hope to outwit a genius of the Fifth Realm, especially if it should break the realm bonds. But if it found itself faced with something as goofy as a Tishaaran warrior, that might throw it for a loop.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sloat.
“How would Ishyrus prepare a defense against an attacking force that includes a Tishaaran, a person who flatly refuses to wage war?” said Packory. “Why, there is no logical explanation for it. How could Ishyrus account for this in its plans? Might throw it off its game.”
“You know, that isn’t so dumb,” said Roland. “Listen, I’ve been to that realm and that’s probably the way you have to think to beat these guys.”
“I thank you for declaring that my logic isn’t so dumb,” snapped Packory. “High compliment, indeed!”
“Are you asking me to stay with you?” queried Sloat. Roland knew what he was getting at. Whatever his feelings about war, a Tishaaran would feel morally obligated to consider a request for aid, provided it did not require him to compromise Tishaaran principles.
Packory refused to rise to the bait. “I ain’t lickin’ your boots; I’m saying we could use you.”
Sloat resumed his whittling, paralyzed by indecision. At last he stuffed his freshly carved tent stake into his pouch. “Very well. I shall go with you to Point Harrow. Unless you would like an escort to take you back to Tishaara, Roland.”
Roland stared blankly at him. Was Sloat looking to him to bail him out of an impossible dilemma? Or was he providing Roland, the coward of the Glasswater, with an out to avoid a dangerous situation? Well, I’ve traveled the coward’s road, and I don’t much like it. “What the heck! All aboard for Point Harrow,” he said, astonished by his own response.
“You’re fools, both of you,” clucked Packory. “I can’t believe you’d do something so stupid. You know we have no hope of winning.”
“Pardon my saying so, but do you want us to come or not?” asked Sloat, growing exasperated with the cocky frog.
“Personally, I would welcome your hairy hide. But don’t come along to please me. The last thing I need is your blood on my conscience.”
A cloud passed over Roland as he remembered Delaney speaking similar words at their parting.
Sloat tucked away his knife. “Since none of us are likely to live through this battle, your conscience will not linger to bother you, Mr. Packory,” he said. “We shall come with you. If by some miracle you survive what lies ahead, I ask you to justify my behavior to the Chamber.”
None of us are likely to live? Yeah, that’s probably right. After his ordeal in the Fifth Realm, the prospect of death in battle did not hold nearly the terror for Roland that it once did. Nonetheless, he wished Sloat had made that editorial comment before he had made his decision to go.