When it came to giving care to the fallen, the Morps neutralized their lack of coordination by slowing their movements to a crawl. Two Morps took a good ten minutes to wad their shirts into a pillow that they gently placed beneath the head of a bleeding companion. Others began to wrap the dead in blankets, and picked them up, carrying them slowly and with the tiniest steps to the interior of Morp. Yet even at that, they proved far more effective than Shaska, Delaney, and Windglow at their task.
Among the last of the motionless to be collected was Snetrock. They found him lying on his back. His glassy eyes stared unblinking from his gray, dust-covered face into the dull First Realm sun.
Delaney dropped to her knees next to the close-cropped, misshapen head. “What’s wrong, Snetrock? Snetrock, I’m here. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”
Snetrock's swollen eyes blinked shut and then opened again. Clouded and watery, they were unable to focus.
"Snetrock?" Delaney croaked as she smoothed a streak of grimey sweat from his forehead.
At the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand, the Morp closed his eyes and a toothless smile briefly tugged at his face. "My fren."
Neither of them said anything more until a Morp awkwardly pushed her aside. “Snetrock dead,” he said, evenly.
Delaney stared blankly at the intruder until his words finally sank in. “Snetrock?!" She started to say that it wasn't so bad, that she, Delaney, was dead, too, and seemed okay with it. But somehow this felt different. Although her head swam and she could barely focus her thoughts, this felt real in a way that her own death had not. Frantically, with fumbling fingers, she tried to revive Snetrock.
When he failed to respond, she collapsed in tears next to her gloomy, colorless friend, whispering his name over and over. Memories rushed into her head, all in black-and-white: Snetrock silently and stoically absorbing the brutal beating at the hands of the Ordunese; cluelessly searching and researching his pockets for the message tucked in his shoes; standing terrified and trembling, yet resolute, at the approach of the horror from the Fifth Realm; desperately trying to protect her from Draxis: his crooked grin as he rubbed his cheek against her and declared her “my fren.”
Suddenly, she wanted nothing more to do with the realms or anyone in them. The realmlands were the most pathetic, cruel world she could imagine--a desert so harsh and unforgiving and poisonous that justice, fairness, compassion, and common decency could not begin to take root. Wiping her eyes, she turned her back on the Morps as they tenderly wrapped Snetrock in his own cloak. Sobbing silently, she refused to watch as they ponderously carried him along with his fallen mates across the plain to their hidden hovels.
For a long while she stood alone, motionless, trying to will something to happen that would erase the horror of the events she had just witnessed, or relieve the fatigue wrought by the dull ache of loss.
She fell to knees in the dust, tears tracking through the grit on her face. Neither of her companions approached her or said a word.
Weighed down by confusion and grief, she knelt motionlelss, unaware of the passage of time, until Windglow announced, "Look there, I see a familiar face." Delaney looked up and after a long search in all directions, noticed the tall rider approaching from the north, kicking up a rising plume of that ever-present Morpian dust.
“Who is that?” asked Shaska. “Begging your pardon, but I have never seen him before. Rather small, is he not?”
“I suspect he merely looks small because the rider is large,” offered Windglow.
“I was speaking of the rider, not the horse. No, wait, they are both getting larger. Why they both are growing before our very eyes!”
“They must be Fifth Realmers,” marveled Windglow. “None in the lower realms can change shape.”
“Wait, I think that’s Ehiloru,” said Delaney.
“Don’t be silly,” scolded Shaska. “Ehiloru is not a horse.”
“The person on the horse is Ehiloru,” said Windglow, sagely. “Although I don’t understand why he was so small just a moment ago. Surely, he is no Fifth Realmer.”
The prophet reined in his mount near the scraggly lines scratched out by the Morps and jumped to the ground. For a long while he surveyed the scene in awe and confusion.
“Praise the Creator, but how can this be?” gasped Ehiloru, at last. “I see dead Morps being borne away, but fewer than I expected. And you three, alive and in onepiece? What of the other Morps and of Draxis? Did not the Destroyer come this way?Why did it turn so abruptly away from Orduna and attack Morp? Where has it gone?”
“I think the answer to one of those questions is yes,” offered Shaska, helpfully.
“The Morps think they killed Draxis,” said Windglow, shaking his head.
“That’s right,” said Delaney, bitterly “Silly monkeys! They couldn’t have because its name is really Morton.”
“Beautiful horse you have there,” said Shaska, approaching the steed. “Did you say its name was Ehiloru?”
Ehiloru stared open-mouthed at them. “What sort of black magic has that foul Nephil worked upon you? You speak as people who have no more sense than the Morps!”
As Shaska reached out to stroke the horse’s mane, she suddenly whirled. “That is it!” she screamed, clapping her hands. She planted a huge kiss on the horse’s nose and said, “The realm bonds have been restored, that is what has happened!”
“What are you saying?” asked Ehiloru, suspiciously.
“Can you not see it?” exclaimed Shaska. “The Morps know exactly where their realm border lies. See, they drew this line to mark their territory. No sooner did we cross into the First Realm than we lost all of our higher realm powers. We have been stumbling, crashing into each other, forgetting things, and talking absolute nonsense.”
“And this strikes you as unusual?” sniffed Puddles.
“Please, Puddles,” implored Shaska. “We have been acting just like Morps. I know I was until I crossed back over to the Second just now. And, oh my word! That explains what happened to Draxis!”
“You’re the one talking yibbety yibbety, now,” said Delaney. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying. No, that’s not right. I understand all the words. It’s just the stupid way you put them together.”
“Of course you do not understand them,” said Shaska, smiling. “You are in Morp. You can barely distinguish up from down in that realm. As you should remember from our earlier unfortunate experience there.”
Delaney looked Shaska up and down and then pronounced, “You know what? You’re a ditz. A blonde bimbo.”
Shaska pointed to the scrawled line in the gravel. “Cross over that line and say that.”
"Oh, so you want to fight?" said Delaney, irritably.
"No. Just come here and you shall see what I am talking about."
Delaney and Windglow made their way toward Shaska and a very puzzled Ehiloru, weaving dizzily. Immediately upon crossing the line, their vacant looks dissolved, and they stood erect and stable.
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“Why, that is it!” cried Windglow. “You figured it out, Shaska! The realm bonds have been restored! It is a miracle! We are saved! We are saved from the Nephilim! The realms are saved!”
“Shaska, you’re a genius!” said Delaney. “That explains why Draxis fell apart in the First Realm. The Morps were telling the truth. They were able to kill it! They actually killed Draxis!” She threw her arms around Shaska, and was surprised as always by the Tishaaran woman’s strength as the two twirled around.
"And that explains your 'death,'" said Shaska, jumping up and down in her excitement. "Fifth Realm beings have no form in the lower realms. They appear as mirror images of those who behold them. That was Draxis you saw being killed."
Delaney looked at her doubtfully. "Could you run that by me again?"
After a quick glance at Delany's feet to verify in which realm she was standing, she repeated her explanation. This time, Delaney understood. She broke into a huge grin and she and Shaska spun around in another joyful, screaming hug.
“The realm bonds are restored,” gasped Windglow, in awe of their good fortune. “Oh, praise the Creator, someone got them back! Draxis lost its immortality when the realm bonds were restored. It is dead! Can you believe it? The realm bonds are back! We need fear the spirits of the Fifth Realm no more.”
“Only a complete drivel-wit would think so,” squawked a familiar voice.
“Oh, shut up, you little--ow, what’s the matter with you?” said Delaney, as Shaska’s grip on her arm tightened to the bone. Shaska and Windglow had both frozen and were staring at Puddles as if he were Draxis come back to life. Even Ehiloru regarded the sherrott with puzzlement.
“Hah! Fine collection of geniuses you are!” scoffed Puddles. “Master detectives, one and all.”
No one answered his smart retort. Only then did Delaney comprehend why the celebration had come to such an abrupt halt. “You’re not supposed to be able to talk in the Second Realm,” said Delaney, numbly.
“So sue me, as the Ordunese say.”
“But Puddles, if you can talk in the Second Realm, doesn’t that mean the realmbonds are really gone after all? Isn't that the way it works?” asked Delaney.
“Your powers of perception are astounding."
“Ehiloru, what does this mean?” asked Shaska. “I thought I had this sorted out, but now my thoughts are just spinning in air.”
“There's plenty of air in that head for them to spin in," said Puddles.
Ehiloru twisted his reddish beard with one finger as he pondered the situation. He closed his eyes in deep concentration, and rubbed his temples for a long time. Finally, he straightened and with a curious glint in his eye, approached Puddles who was nestled in Windglow's arms.
“Puddles, my good fellow,” he said, holding out his hand. “Would you accompany me for a moment?”
“Are your hands clean? If you’ve been picking your nose again, I'm not touching you.”
Ehiloru smiled indulgently. “You have nothing to fear. on that count."
After a great deal of urging, Puddles jumped into Ehiloru's palm. The prophet then carried him to the Morps’ crudely scratched border. There he stretched out his arm so that he held Puddles far over the line. Furrowing his formidable brows, he looked hard at the creature.
“Puddles,” said the prophet, in all earnestness, “you are the most ridiculous, foul-mouthed, mulch-witted, pampered-rotten little brat I have ever laid eyes on.”
Windglow winced, anticipating the vulgar outburst that such an insult would provoke in his ill-tempered pet. To everyone’s astonishment, Puddles said nothing. Although it kicked and even bit at Ehiloru’s hand, he said not a word.
“Ouch,” said Ehiloru. The sherrott tried to bolt from his hand, and in reaching out to grab him, Ehiloru stumbled forward. There he stood, puzzled, as he tried to avoid another bite from Puddles. “Now why in the world did I say such a spiteful thing?”
“It is happening to you,” said Windglow. “See, you have stepped over the line into the First Realm. Ehiloru, you have no more sense than a Morp, no insult intended to either party.” He reached over, caught Ehiloru by the arm, and pulled him back over the line.
No sooner were Ehiloru and Puddles back in the Second Realm than the sherrott spluttered, “Who are you to call me anything, you blow-hard, wiggle-livered, trundle-tailed, lickspigot, son-of-a-maggot, holy-honker, phony fiddle-fleep of a charlatan?!”
“Puddles!” cried Windglow, mortified.
“Most interesting,” said Ehiloru, rubbing his whiskers. “Shaska, dear, do me a favor? Run back to the edge of Ashwauk and then return. At a fairly brisk clip, if I may be so bold.”
“Gladly, if you wish,” said Shaska. “But why?
”
“If you would be so good as to humor me,” said Ehiloru, bowing slightly. Shaska shrugged and shot off toward the woods.
“And I thought deer ran gracefully,” sighed Delaney, enviously.
“Actually, they do,” said Windglow, confused by her comment.
Delaney checked to see if Windglow’s feet were in Morp. “I was making the point that Shaska runs more gracefully than even a deer.”
“Ah. Sorry.”
As soon as Shaska returned, Ehiloru asked her, “Are you tired?”
The answer was obvious. Shaska was breathing normally, perhaps just a bit more deeply than normal. “Not at all. Why do you ask?”
Ehiloru bit his lip, overcome with emotion. With his great arms he pulled all three of them close (four, counting Puddles). “Beware,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “This is holy ground.”
None dared question him, so thunderstruck was the prophet over his discovery. They waited patiently until Ehiloru found the words to continue: “The realm bonds have been broken. Permanently, I fear. Puddles’ behavior is no fluke. His Third Realm powers now work in the Second Realm. You, Shaska, retain your Third Realm stamina in the thin air of the Second Realm. The realm bonds exist no more. Except for this.”
He pointed with a trembling finger at the crudely scrawled line in the sand. “One bond still holds. One bond among all bonds has not been broken. The Creator that fashioned the realms must, after all, hold in its heart a special place for the Morp. We should have known. The Creator bound the First Realm with an extra cord of love that has held fast even against the schemes of Draxis and Ishyrus and whoever else was involved in this terrible intrigue.”
Delaney saw that he must be right. Somehow, the Morp bonds still held. A sense of wonder overwhelmed her as she pondered the unsteady territorial scrawl of the Morp army, and what that meant to the realmlands. As vividly as she had experienced terrors and marvels in this adopted land, far beyond the powers of her imagination, she had felt nothing remotely close to the sacred aura of mystery that now engulfed her. She imagined herself dissolving into particles of sand, so tiny and utterly insignificant next to this holy presence. She felt as graceless as a worm writhing in a dung heap, especially when she remembered the harsh accusations she had hurled at the Almighty concerning the fate of the Morps. Who was she, less than a speck of dust in the scheme of the universe, to question the wisdom and compassion of powers beyond her understanding?
Windglow felt something of this, too, for he spoke in a hushed voice. “In our worst hour, the worst that has ever befallen the realmlands, it was the First Realmers who stepped to the fore. They alone stood fast against the eternity of darkness! Willingly did they offer up their lives for those who regarded them with nothing but contempt. They sacrificed themselves for us. They saved all of us. Ah, it shames me to the core to think how I have belittled and degraded them with my pity.”
“Oh, Windspear. I am afraid I shall carry that shame with me to the end of my days,” whispered Shaska.
“I hope it shames every creature in all the realms,” said Delaney, her voice cracking, as she watched the Morp procession disappear into the gray horizon, carrying the body of Snetrock, who comprehended almost nothing but his duty, and the beauty of friendship. It suddenly struck her that she was as guilty as anyone in her attitude toward the Morps. Even in his dying moments, she had not come through for Snetrock. Even then she had treated him as a pet and not an equal, or even a person. With his last action, he had proven his loyalty. With his last words he da called her "my fren." Why couldn't she have called him "my fren", and meant it? Why could she not have done that for him? He had given all he had for this fellow realm beings, and she had not reciprocated.
No one had reciprocated.
The Morps had died alone.
Snetrock and his people had died alone.
It was more than she could bear. And, having been solidly in the First Realm when Snetrock was struck down, she now understood the lie that she had constructed in her smug condescension. Having little brain, Morps could not feel as strongly as humans, she had thought. They were as dull in that regard as in everything else.
No, she had been standing in Morp when her heart had broken at the sight of the plucky little guy gasping for his last breaths. She had experienced the weight of unbearable sorrow, the agony of having a Snetrock-shaped hole ripped out of her life. She knew for a fact that Morps felt their unjust load of pain and their suffering as deeply as anyone.
This awareness hit her so hard that she fell to her knees. She convulsed in sobs of overwhelming pity, followed by anger at herself for that pity. Anger for thinking of the Morp as some poor, lovable pet without a real soul of his own. Like a goldfish you cry over while you bury it in a box in the garden. Why could she not say his name, even utter the name of any Morp without qualifying it with the word ‘poor’? She felt helpless to stop the spasms of grief that welled up from deep inside her, a place deeper than she had known existed within her.
“They thought it was such great sport to torture these little creatures,” she sobbed, while Shaska hugged her close. “I hope it haunts them for eternity when they remember the Morps did not hesitate to answer their call for help. When they remember who stepped up to be massacred to the last Morp--for them, while everyone else ran.”
“The Morps did what no one else in all the realms could do,” added Windglow. “Could any of us have guessed that the weakest among us would defeat the power of the worst terror imaginable, a power that the strongest of us could not challenge?”
“Ah, but we should have foreseen it,” said Ehiloru, softly. “Certainly, I should have, for it is the privilege of my office to ponder the ancient words of the sacred writings day after day. It was written under my very nose, and I could not see it. `The Creator has put what is foolish into the world to shame the wise. And has put what is weak into the world to shame the strong.’"
He paused long before he continued. “Truly the Morps have brought us low in our pride. Let no one in the realmlands ever call himself valorous. Let no one claim honor for himself or his race or his people. Let none even lift his face from the dirt in the presence of a First Realmer. For what we have called valor among us is but warm paste compared to what we have witnessed today.”
He pointed to the small gray mesa standing off some distance to the west. “Here in the shadow of Vyarlis itself, the Morps have shown us clearly that the least of all creatures harbor in their hearts a gift more precious than all the color lodes of the Fourth Realm.”
They huddled together, reduced to silence by the enormity of what they had experienced. Not even Puddles dared to speak in the presence of the sacred mystery.
Only when Ehiloru hugged each of them for the last time and mounted his horse did they remember that, despite the demise of Draxis, the realms were far from safe.
“This war isn’t over yet, is it?” said Delaney. “The realm bonds are gone and those. . . what did you call them?”
“Nephilim,” said Shaska.
“Yeah, them. There are lots of them, right? And without the realm bonds, there’s nothing to stop them from coming here?”
As she said the words, she found herself thinking of Roland. He had ventured into the Fourth Realm, on the very border of this horrid Fifth Realm. If the flood of demons was coming, he would be right in their path. Had he encountered them already? She shuddered to think of it.
“Certainly there are conflicts to come,” said Ehiloru, quietly. “The world is not as it was, and the dangers we face are far beyond what we have known in former days. Yet do not forget that the Fifth Realm holds more than hordes of Nephilim; there are Seraphim as well, and I have faith we can look to them for some comfort.
“In the meantime, we can only wait and see, and prepare our hearts, and then deal with what happens." He pulled on the reins to turn his horse back to Ordunab "Please, good Tishaarans, bring greetings to your fair people from the soon-to-be-fair-again-I-hope city of Orduna. Tell them that the worst of the evil has been overcome, and that we shall struggle with all our might against whatever hardships follow.
“Windglow. Shaska. Delaney. Neither I nor any of the creatures of the Second Realm can ever thank you properly for coming to our aid. Peace be with you now as you return to Tishaara. And if ever the gates of despair crash down upon you and darkness falls so hard that it blots out all traces of light, remember what you have seen here on the Plain of Morp. If ever you need to feel the strong and loving arms of the Creator around you, come witness the First Realm bonds that stand now and shall stand forever.”
With that, he coaxed his horse toward the shattered road back to Orduna.