The Rise of the Wrym Lord Read online

  Aidan did as he was told. Mr. Kurtz gave a yank on the master line, and the art show began. Swaying from the gallery, the artwork of thirty students cruised clockwise around the room. From time to time, Mr. Kurtz commented or criticized some of the works, but he kept the line moving.

  “Hmmm, there’s a fine piece of work,” he said. “And that one is very nice. Oh, someone needs to work on color choice. There’s a good still life. Oh, dear, now I wasn’t aware that Van Gogh did stick figures, but I guess we all must begin somewhere.”

  But then, Mr. Kurtz actually did stop the rotating gallery. He let the master line fall from his hands, and he stood gazing at a picture. From Aidan’s place in the room, all he could see was a lot of black and red ink.

  “Now, this is interesting,” Mr. Kurtz remarked. “The use of red draws the reader into the center. Brilliant, really. Now many of my students try to create something spooky or sinister, but they simply cannot pull it off. One child tried to draw a haunted castle, but it looked for all the world like Snow White and the seven dwarfs might come marching right along.”

  Laughter rippled through the art room. “But this,” Mr. Kurtz continued. “This is positively chilling.” The art teacher seemed to shudder involuntarily, and then he pulled on the main line to continue the art show.

  The red-and-black work of art drew stares from the rest of the class as it sailed around the room. As it came closer to Aidan, he began to feel very cold. The scene showed dark, twisted leafless trees in the foreground and towering black mountains in the back. In the center of the image was a huge set of doors opening from the bony roots of the largest mountain. Red light spilled out from the doors, revealing a cavern within and bathing everything in bloody light. But what captivated the eye and strangled hope from the heart was the train of unfortunate souls being led into the red cavern. Silhouetted against the surge of red were hundreds of beings, obviously bound by chains at the neck, hands, and feet. They were being drawn relentlessly into the bowels of that horrid mountain by dark figures on horseback who had swords, spears, and whips. There seemed no escape for the prisoners. And though what was waiting for them in the blood-red blaze of the cavern could not be seen, it was clearly an end too horrible for words. “The Gates of Despair . . .” Aidan muffled a gasp as the scene passed.

  The bell rang, and the class began to file out as the art teacher said, “Ms. Reed and Mr. Thomas, please stay after class. I wish to speak to you about your art.”

  “I’m glad you both chose to create something original,” Mr. Kurtz said. “What do you call this piece?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Antoinette Reed answered. “It came from a nightmare I’ve been having. I think I’ll call it Despair.”

  Aidan’s eyes narrowed. Does she know? And if she does, which side is she on?

  “You have named it well, Ms. Reed,” said Mr. Kurtz. “Something in my heart aches when I look at it. Very powerful work, yes. And what of yours, Mr. Thomas? Have you given it a name?”

  “The Seven Fountains of Alleble,” Aidan replied. He studied Antoinette.

  “Your work, Mr. Thomas, is equally breathtaking. There is beauty and strength. There is also, I think . . . mystery. For instance, why is one fountain dry and empty?”

  Aidan suddenly felt very awkward. Gwenne had told him once that he must go into his world and tell everyone he could about Alleble, but to tell a teacher he didn’t even know? “Uh, it’s a long story,” Aidan muttered, and immediately he felt ashamed for not saying more.

  “I enjoy long stories, Mr. Thomas. So another time, perhaps,” said Mr. Kurtz. “In any case, I asked you to stay after because—well, quite frankly—your artistic skills are far superior to everyone else’s in the class, and I fear what I have to teach will be a waste of your time.”

  Aidan thought, Not another schedule change! He looked at Antoinette; she looked back at him.

  “Sooooo, I have decided to create a new section,” explained Mr. Kurtz. “I’ll call it advanced art. It will be four credits, not three, and will appear on your report card as an independent study class. I’ve never done this before, but math does it all the time, so I will too.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kurtz,” Antoinette said, “but will we still come to your class at the same time?” Exactly what Aidan wanted to know.

  “Yes, of course. But I will set up a little area at the back table where the two of you can work without being disturbed by my prattling. This is all up to you, though. Is this something you wish to do?”

  They both nodded vigorously.

  “Done then. We’ll begin Thursday. Be thinking of a technique you would like to learn, and I will provide some resources for you. Now, let me write you each a pass so your next teacher doesn’t throw you to the wolves for being late.”

  Mr. Kurtz closed the art room door. Aidan and Antoinette looked at each other.

  “Do you believe?” they blurted out simultaneously.

  “Yes!” Aidan answered.

  “Me too,” Antoinette said.

  “But, what . . . what do you believe?” Aidan asked. He had to be sure.

  “I believe in Alleble of The Realm,” she began. “And King Eliam the King of all Kingdoms. He is everlasting, and seeks all who would follow the true King. I believe that one day I will go to be with King Eliam in the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun. I believe everything in The Book of Alleble.”

  “Book of Alleble?”

  “Yes,” she replied, looking confused. “The Book of Alleble. You believe in it, don’t you? Well, you must because of your drawing, The Seven Fountains. Those fountains are spoken of many times in the book. You must know.”

  “I believe everything you said, but I didn’t learn it from a book. It came from The Scrolls of Alleble. But my dad told me there was a book. Bestseller, he said.”

  “That’s right. You can find it in any bookstore. My parents gave me mine for my seventh birthday.”

  “This is incredible, Antoinette!” Aidan said. “Finally, someone else who believes. When I saw your picture I was afraid for a minute that you served the Prince.”

  “Aidan, what a horrible thing to say! I hope you weren’t judging me. Just because my friends and I like to dress a little different doesn’t mean that we are evil!”

  Aidan wondered how she seemed to know what he was thinking. He smiled, remembering someone else who used to do that as well.

  “No, Aidan, I would never serve the Prince. I only drew the picture because I keep having nightmares about it.”

  “It’s a horrible place, Antoinette,” Aidan said with a shudder.

  “You sound as if you’ve—”

  “I’ve been there. I saw the Gates. I was nearly captured and taken inside.”

  A look of awe surged onto Antoinette’s face. “We need to talk,” she said.

  “Maybe after school?”

  “Okay,” Antoinette said.

  “I’ll clear it with Mom,” Aidan said.

  “I’ll call my mom on my cell phone to let her know where I am.”

  “Maybe you could help me with the math homework too. It’s a little over my head,” Aidan said.

  “Sure. I better run. I’ve got honors English now. See ya later.” And with that she left.

  Aidan wondered if the bus ride home would be awkward. After all, Aidan didn’t really fit in with the trench-coat clan. And he wondered what his parents would think of Antoinette. Dad’s bound to like her, he thought as he wandered down the hall toward his next class. But he wasn’t so sure about his mom.

  6

  STORIES TO TELL

  The bus ride home wasn’t at all awkward. Mr. Bluehair even saved a seat for Antoinette and Aidan. Apparently, being Antoinette’s friend earned Aidan some points with the trench-coat clan.

  The awkward part came when they reached his house. Aidan checked his pockets. He looked all through his backpack. “I can’t believe it!” Aidan complained. He turned several shades of red.

  “What?”

&
nbsp; “I forgot my keys,” he answered sheepishly. “But my mom should be home soon.”

  “S’okay,” Antoinette replied with a shrug. “We can just spread the work out on your porch and knock out our math homework.”

  “Good idea,” Aidan said.

  Antoinette really is smart, Aidan had to admit, and not just in the bookish kind of way.

  “Mom will probably faint from the shock of seeing me doing homework without having to be told to do it.”

  Three pages of trigonometry later, Aidan’s mom arrived.

  “Hello,” she said, stepping onto the porch. “You must be Antoinette.”

  Antoinette stood and held out a gentle hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Thomas,” she said.

  “It’s nice to meet you too. So, why are you two outside and not inside working on homework?” she asked.

  “I forgot the key,” Aidan said.

  “Well, come on in,” Mrs. Thomas said as she opened the door.

  “Mom, Antoinette and I just finished our math assignment.”

  Aidan’s mom looked at the completed assignments and stared blankly. “You even showed your work,” she mumbled.

  “Can Antoinette stay for dinner?” Aidan asked.

  “We were just going to order pizza, but you’re welcome to join us—if it’s okay with your parents, of course.”

  “I’m sure they won’t mind,” Antoinette replied. “I’ll call them to make sure, though.”

  “Mom, we’re going to the basement,” Aidan said as he led Antoinette into the house. “I want to show her my paintings of The Realm.”

  “All right. But Antoinette should call her parents before it gets too late.”

  “I’ll call right now, Mrs. Thomas,” she said and flipped open her cell phone. But Mrs. Reed didn’t answer, so she left a message.

  Aidan and Antoinette tromped down the stairs to Aidan’s new art studio. “Did you see her?” Aidan asked. “She was still staring at my math papers. Probably checking my work.”

  “If she is, she’ll be in for a treat. Every one of your answers is correct.”

  Aidan smiled as he clicked on the track lights that illuminated his artwork.

  “Whoa!” Antoinette gasped, looking at the paintings. “These are incredible!”

  Aidan blushed. “I’m just getting used to painting with acrylics, but I’m sure you could do just as good.”

  “No, I mean it, Aidan,” she said, walking up to his picture of the Grimwalk. “I’ve read about these places . . . I’ve dreamed about them. They look just how I imagined they’d look. Have you actually been to all these places in The Realm?”

  Aidan nodded.

  “Okay, you have got to tell me everything!” Antoinette said, sitting on a stool. “Start with how you got into The Realm. I didn’t think anyone went there until they died.”

  “King Eliam called me,” Aidan said.

  “How?”

  “There were signs. Weird things happened to me.”

  “What kinds of weird things?”

  “Well, as soon as we moved out here, I started having nightmares—horrible recurring dreams. Especially this one where Paragor himself kills me.” Antoinette went very still and her eyes widened. But she said nothing.

  “Then, one time when I was in my room, I felt like something was staring at me from outside the window . . . which didn’t make any sense because my room’s up on the second floor. When I looked, the pine tree shook violently as if something large had been perched in it and flown off. I ran outside and saw an enormous shadow.”

  “Wait,” Antoinette said. “An enormous shadow?”

  “Yes,” Aidan replied. “It was huge—like something invisible was flying overhead.”

  Antoinette’s brows furrowed and she rocked on the edge of the stool.

  “I think King Eliam sent a dragon to watch over me,” Aidan continued. “At the time, it really messed with my head. But the weirdest thing that happened was when I was down here in the basement. I was bored, and I came down to poke around. It was really dark—we didn’t have the track lights up yet—and I started hearing strange scratching sounds. It came from right over there beneath the stairs.”

  Aidan pointed. Antoinette stared and held her breath. It was silent in the basement.

  Suddenly, Antoinette’s cell phone shrilled, and they both jumped.

  Antoinette flipped open her phone. “Hi, Mom.”

  She smiled at first, but then her expression clouded. “What? Why? . . . I know, I know—it’s important. Okay, I’ll be ready. And, Mom, guess what? Aidan believes! I know. That is so cool, isn’t it? What? Mom, that’s a great idea. It’ll almost make up for today. I’ll ask him.”

  Antoinette lowered the phone. “I’m not going to be able to stay for dinner.”

  “Why not?” Aidan’s shoulders sagged in disappointment.

  “Our neighbor just had a baby, and we’re going to go by the hospital tonight. But my mom said you could come to our house for dinner Friday . . . if you want.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Aidan said. But he wondered what his parents would say.

  Putting the phone back to her ear, Antoinette told her mom where Aidan lived and then closed the phone. “My mom said she’ll be here in ten minutes. Quick, tell me! What happened after the scratching sounds?”

  “Well, the sounds got louder, and blue sparks started swirling on the floor. Then, just like that, it all stopped, and there were three tall clay pots. In them, I found the scrolls—the scrolls that tell about Alleble and of Paragor’s betrayal.”

  “That’s what’s in my book,” Antoinette said quietly, half to herself.

  “I needed my grandfather to help me understand the poem at the end of the story. That was how I went in. The poem was the invitation.”

  “Poem?” Antoinette echoed. “Aidan, I’ve been having dreams about The Realm too. And just the other day, I was out in my garden getting the last of the tomatoes, and I saw the same kind of shadow you described. Do you think King Eliam could be calling me to come to The Realm? But my book doesn’t have a poem at the end—just blank pages. What could that mean?”

  Aidan shook his head. “I don’t know, but when I was in Alleble, I had a friend there who told me that King Eliam invites only a few from our world prior to death—and then only for special missions.”

  “What was your mission?”

  “I was called to travel to a small kingdom called Mithegard. It was one of the isolated cities Paragor wanted to force into a dark alliance with his dark realm. I was part of a team of twelve sent to Mithegard to convince them to seek protection from Alleble.”

  “Did you succeed?” Antoinette asked.

  Before Aidan could answer, the doorbell rang.

  “Oh, that’s probably my mom!” Antoinette said. Aidan started to head for the stairs, but Antoinette grabbed his arm. “Tell me one more thing before we go up. This painting you’re working on now . . .” Antoinette pointed. “Why doesn’t that knight have any eyes?”

  Aidan looked at the painting of Robby’s Glimpse and got goose bumps. If only there was some way he could reach Robby or his Glimpse. Maybe . . . , Aidan thought. But before he could answer her, his mother called downstairs.

  “Aidan! Antoinette’s mother is here. Come on up.”

  As Aidan and Antoinette came up the stairs, Mrs. Reed was saying, “Thank you so much for inviting Antoinette to stay for dinner. I’m terribly sorry that I have to take her away. But our neighbor had twins—”

  “Twins?” Antoinette exclaimed. “How cool is that!”

  “Very cool, indeed, Antoinette,” Mrs. Reed said. Then, turning back to Aidan’s mother, she asked, “Perhaps Aidan could have dinner with us Friday night?”

  “Yes, that would work fine.”

  And it was settled that easily. Mrs. Reed would pick up Aidan and Antoinette on Friday after school. She would drive him home around nine. Aidan couldn’t wait. There was so much left to tell about The Realm, about Alleble, about Glimpses.
And there was the inkling of a plan Aidan was developing to follow up on. Aidan wondered if Antoinette would consider it. Maybe, he thought.

  “Come on,” Aidan said into the phone. “You gotta be home sooner or later.” Since Antoinette left, he had dialed Robby’s number every fifteen minutes, but no one ever answered. It didn’t make sense. A month and a half earlier they were best friends. Then . . . nothing. It was like Robby had disappeared from the face of the planet. Aidan was just about to give up trying, when . . .

  “Hello?” A voice with a pronounced Floridian drawl answered.

  Aidan nearly jumped out of his chair. “Hello, Robby? It’s me, Aidan!”

  “Aidan, hey!” Robby answered. “I was fixin’ to call you. But I’ve been kinda busy gettin’ ready for school.”

  “Yeah, me too. My first day was today. How was soccer camp?”

  “What?” Robby asked.

  “Soccer camp at Camp Ramblesomething.”

  “Oh, that. It was fine. But that ended a few weeks ago.”

  Aidan frowned. He’d sent a dozen emails, called innumerable times—but no replies from Robby.

  “Did you get any of my emails?” Aidan asked. He didn’t know why, but he felt embarrassed for asking.

  “Uh, yeah.” Robby hesitated. “Sorry, but like I said, I’ve been real busy, so I haven’t had a chance to reply. You know me, I’m not much for writin’ anyway. And my sister Jill hogs the computer most nights.”

  It sounded like a lot of excuses to Aidan, but he knew an argument would not help him deliver the message he hoped to share. “Uh, okay. Robby, listen, I’ve been wanting to talk to you because something really cool has happened to me.”

  No reply.

  “Remember in that email I sent you, the one where I told you about the strange thing in the tree outside the window of my new house?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, okay, that was the first thing—well, that and the dreams. But anyway, I was looking through the basement and I found some ancient scrolls. They told me about this place called Alleble. It’s a kingdom, and well, you can go there if you believe.”

  “Righ—ight,” Robby replied. He always said the word that way, as if it had two syllables.