Crystal Doors #3: Sky Realm (No. 3) (16 page)

Suddenly they heard a loud outcry overhead, the bellows of angry aeglors.

“Sharif should be able to find the way,” the Sultan said.

Sharif snapped his gaze up at the rough rock base of the island over their heads. “I think someone discovered the two dead guards in your bedchamber, Father.”

“I had hoped to have more time than this.”

“Um, shouldn’t we be leaving now?” Vic asked.

“Which direction do we go?” Gwen said. “Maybe we should make a plan in case we get separated.”

“A
plan
?” Vic cried. “Distance first, planning later.”

Loud horns sounded up in Irrakesh. More and more aeglors began shrieking, gathering and launching from the high towers. Below, the terodax also sounded the alarm.

Gwen could see a cloud of them, like vultures flying up from a battlefield. “This can’t be good,” she said.

“Follow me, Father,” Sharif cried, and his small purple carpet streaked off into the night.

The Sultan traced his fingers across the embroidery patterns, and his larger carpet followed Sharif’s in swift pursuit. A cacophony of cries came from behind them. Gwen looked back at the enormous floating island of Irrakesh, a startling silhouette against the stars and firelight. The aeglors were searching the city, flying down streets, apparently assuming the Sultan was still there, hiding in the bazaar or the lower town.

The terodax, however, flew up from the volcanic surface in a large flock of jagged wings and sharpened talons. Their scarlet-crested leader led the formation. They plunged after the two escaping flying carpets and Gwen could see they would close the distance any moment.

19

SHARIF LOOKED BACK AT Irrakesh.
His
city. And almost — almost — went back. Yes, his father had sacrificed everything to release the five of them from their cages. But the old man could not last long with the overdose of antidote burning through his bloodstream. No matter how much Sharif wanted to change the facts, he knew enough about poisons and the ravages the Sultan’s body had already suffered to understand that these were the last few moments he would have with his father. There was so much they needed to discuss, so many things to say, too much Sharif still had to learn.

And one thing he needed to know was how he, Ali el Sharif, could be responsible for the people in Irrakesh. The city had been captured by the aeglors, and who knew how many of his people had died in the attacks of the terodax? Azric would enslave and torment the survivors, and Sharif was simply running away. This could not be!

On the other hand, the five linked companions in the prophesied Ring of Might could be the only ones able to stop Azric from plundering and devastating all the worlds linked through the crystal doors. They had to get away, return to Elantya and warn others about what the dark sage was doing. The situation was desperate, but he would not give up hope. He wished Piri could be here, but he was grateful to have Gwen, Vic, Tiaret, and Lyssandra there beside him, as well as his father. He had learned to value things that were far more important than the material possessions that belonged to the leader of Irrakesh. He valued freedom and friendship.

The commotion continued in Irrakesh. Aeglors flew around the city. Someone shouted an alarm. The terodax coming up from the ground homed in on the two flying carpets. King Raathun and his winged men finally understood that the Sultan had escaped, that their real target was flying away from the city.

Before the aeglors could go far, though, a small figure appeared on the palace balcony. With his sharp eyesight, Sharif recognized the pastel sunset colors of the Vizier’s robe. Jabir had also broken away from his captors. He cried out in defiance, his voice unusually strong. He raised his hands, and electricity bounced from fingertip to fingertip. Sharif heard the words in the ancient language, saw his gestures even from afar, and knew what the great Vizier was doing — using air magic. Jabir was summoning a windstorm.

Gusts of wind blew into Sharif’s face, whisking past them toward the flying city. The Vizier called the breezes, streaming the air toward him to create an immense cyclone, a vortex of winds that swirled around the winged warriors. The aeglors shrieked and flapped. Their formations scattered.

The windstorm pushed King Raathun and his followers back, giving the carpets a greater lead. But the storm bought them only a minute before aeglor guards in the palace pounced on Jabir from behind and pulled him away from the balcony. His concentration broke and the spell dissolved. The winds died away and the aeglors shot toward them again with powerful strokes of their feathered wings.

Sharif could see that the terodax would arrive first. The bat-winged predators zoomed upward like airborne soldiers in tight ranks with their scarlet-crested leader at the point. The terodax leader hissed and snarled. He beat his taut wings with a sound like leather snapping against the wind.

With Gwen close behind him, Sharif pushed his flying carpet to its greatest possible speed. They streaked along, but there was nowhere to hide in the empty sky. Even if they flew all night, he doubted that his carpet could go farther than the terodax could fly in pursuit. The relentless predatory creatures would flap their wings until they dropped from exhaustion. They followed their leader in a streamlined attacking force.

On the larger carpet carrying Vic, Tiaret, and Lyssandra, the old Sultan hovered over his aja thread patterns, guiding the large rug, keeping up with Sharif. Because he himself was a Key, Sharif could sense the location of the crystal door to Elantya. Unfortunately, Irrakesh had drifted a great distance after King Raathun betrayed the city and the aeglors took over. Irrakesh was too far from its usual location. The apprentices didn’t stand a chance of getting back to Elantya — at least not that way.

The terodax leader dove beneath the flying carpets and put on an extra burst of speed, winging forward and upward toward the Prince. The Sultan pulled out his bejeweled flute. Sharif knew that his father still had one poisoned dart left in the tube, but the terodax had thick, leathery skin partially covered with scales. The bony headcrest of the leader would protect it from something as small and insignificant as a needle, no matter how deadly the poison was.

Pulling closer to the purple flying carpet, the terodax leader slashed with his clawed hands, swinging his razor-edged wings. Sharif and Gwen ducked, nearly falling off the carpet. Gwen threw herself flat against the soft material. The curved wing-claw of the flying predator caught and tore the back of her blouse. The terodax leader snapped his long, jagged jaws.

Sharif gripped his father’s scimitar, ready to slash the huge predator as it dove toward them on another attacking run. Another terodax followed it around in a perfectly coordinated maneuver. The other predators didn’t seem to think for themselves and simply flew in the wake of their leader.

Before the scarlet-crested terodax could strike the Prince’s carpet again, though, the old Sultan, with a last burst of energy, stood up on his rug. He shouted in a hoarse voice, raising both of his hands. “Here! Over here.”

“No, Father!” Sharif shouted, but the old man called to the terodax leader.

“He is just a boy. He is nothing. I am the Sultan. You want me.”

The terodax leader thrashed his barbed tail and changed course. Sharif knew his father must have some intention of sacrificing himself, but the old man was no match for the terodax. What could he possibly gain? With the jeweled flute in one hand, the Sultan crouched, waiting for the terodax leader to attack.

Raising the curved sword, Sharif changed course and flew toward his father.

Extending his talons, the flying monster dove down. The Sultan snapped to Vic, who sat beside him looking for a way to fight to defend them. “You must pilot this rug. Fly it to safety.”

“Wait a second. I’ve never flown one of these before — cool. Okay, I’ll try to —”

“No. You will
do
it,” the Sultan said and abruptly turned back toward the oncoming terodax leader.

Tiaret appeared ready to throw herself upon the creature to claw its eyes out with her own fingers if necessary. The Sultan pushed her back down to the carpet.

“Here!” he shouted again at the winged predators. At the last instant the Sultan straightened, making himself a perfect target, and the clawed hands of the terodax leader snatched the old man from the large carpet and whisked him away.

Sharif cried out, but could find no words. His father’s lips were drawn back in a snarl as the terodax leader lifted him toward his jagged jaws. The Sultan raised the jeweled flute, somehow managing to aim, and blew a sharp burst of air through the tube. At point-blank range, the last poisoned dart struck the soft, vulnerable tissue in the terodax leader’s mouth.

The creature squealed, flexing its clawed hands. Sharif’s father grabbed on to the talons, refusing to let the thing drop him. Crying out and hissing, the flying predator spiraled down. The poison worked swiftly. Shrieking in agony, the terodax leader lost altitude.

“Live well, my son,” the Sultan cried with his last breath.

When the poison reached the terodax leader’s brain, its wings twitched spasmodically, but it could no longer fly. As the leader plummeted away from the flying carpets, the rest of the winged creatures blindly flew after it, following their king down.

In the darkness, Sharif quickly lost sight of his father.

20

VIC COULD HEAR SHARIF cry out in hopeless anguish at his father’s death. At the same time, the flock of attacking terodax peeled away in pursuit of their dying leader. But Vic could only concentrate on trying to fly the magic carpet. He wished he had some kind of user’s manual — then again, he rarely wasted time reading directions. He traced the lines of embroidery with his fingers, struggling to summon his own magic and remember what he had picked up from Sharif in Elantya and the Vizier here in Irrakesh.

Sure, he could do this. If he couldn’t, they would all crash to the ground far below. So he was inclined to experiment. He quickly figured out which patterns caused the rug to move from side to side, to dip sickeningly downward or to pull up in a steep ascent. It all made sense, in a way, and flying this carpet was much simpler than some of the complex video games he had played back at home. No problem.

Well, there
was
a problem, now that he saw the aeglors flying behind them and closing the distance.

“The terodax are returning,” Lyssandra said, pointing down.

Tiaret stood, bracing her feet on the rug’s soft surface. “And the aeglors will be here within moments.”

Gwen had her arm around Sharif’s waist. The young man stoically focused on his carpet, guiding them onward.

“How much farther to the door, Sharif?” Vic called. “Can we get there?”

Sharif looked back at him. They were racing neck and neck, but they could hear the hundreds of winged warriors of both species coming onward angrily. “It would take us half a day to reach it.”

Lyssandra’s long, coppery hair blew about her face in the winds. “Even on Elantya, we must take a long ocean voyage to get to the proper location.”

Vic took the carpet to its top speed. He looked back at all of the aeglors in a great mass, their weapons clutched tightly in their hands. From below came the scattered and chaotic group of leaderless terodax. They no longer flew in formation, but Vic was sure they could be dangerous, even without specific orders.

Azric had had enough control over the terodax leader to keep the creatures from killing the five friends. Now that their leader was dead, though, Vic didn’t think the winged predators would have any compunction against tearing the apprentices to pieces. On the other hand, it might be worse if they were captured again by the aeglors and dragged back to Azric. The very fate of worlds depended on this.

“If I had my teaching staff or even my quarterstaff,” Tiaret said, “I would make a brave accounting for our lives.”

“And if I had a rocket,” Vic said, “I could blast us out of here faster than those things could follow.”

“If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride,” Gwen said.

“Thanks, Doc. Is quoting nursery rhymes really the most useful thing you can do right now?” Vic yelled. Suddenly it hit him.
He
could do something more useful. “Wait. If we can’t get to the actual Crystal Door, couldn’t I create a new one — if I remember how?”

“Of course you can!” Gwen cried. “Just focus, Dr. Distracto. Get us out of here.”

Vic took a deep breath. The aeglors were approaching in a thunder of feathers, and the squawking terodax rattled his concentration. But Vic had to do it — create a new crystal door up here in the middle of the sky.
This
was his special ability as part of the Ring of Might.

“The moment you open the doorway, we must fly through it, Viccus,” Tiaret said. “I will use my power to slam it shut. We cannot allow the aeglors or terodax to follow.”

“Hurry,” Lyssandra said.

Vic concentrated. He pictured his fellow apprentices and thought of their urgent need to warn his father, Ven Sage Rubicas, and the Pentumvirate. What the friends needed was a secret passageway back to Elantya. They had to get from here to there right away.

As soon as the sparkling hole opened in the air, Sharif’s purple carpet streaked through the opening. Gwen held on to the fringe of gold tassels.