****
I sleep little that night despite Sarah sleeping next to me. The straw doesn’t make for a comfortable bed and various scenarios of my judgment play like a movie in my mind. In a few I am killed outright along with Sarah and Whisper. In others they watch as I am beheaded. I can’t find the willpower to imagine ones where we all walk out smiling, free to go home. Holding Sarah tight I try in vain to drop my worries and rest, but it is useless.
“Sarah,” I say gently, trying not to wake Whisper. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I just wanted you to know that being with you has been the happiest time in my life. I truly thought that no human could ever understand me or care about me the way you do. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Oh, Jerry,” Sarah says, kissing me deeply. “We will get out of this, you’ll see. It’ll be all right.”
I want to believe her but know it isn’t true for me. Perhaps if I plead guilty they would send Whisper and Sarah back home. Are we truly going to be judge by the five ancient ones? My mind races as I imagine immense beings towering over us, pronouncing our doom in voices like thunder.
“I love you, Sarah,” I say, swallowing hard. It’s the first time I have ever used those words.
“I love you, too,” Sarah says, snuggling closer. She presses her lips to mine and despite the doom ahead of us, I just enjoy the moment. Sitting up, she glances at Whisper who snores loudly before undressing. I swallow, unable to think. I can only act as Sarah helps me out of my clothes, and for the next hour I feel only bliss. Entwined we fall asleep, the concerns of tomorrow seem a long way off.
The time of our judgment comes way too soon and any notion I had about a jail break is immediately dispelled once I see our escort. The Kiraten come prepared, that’s for sure. Row upon row of Kiraten fully armored and armed stride past our cells so that we are completely surrounded on both sides. Even more wait by the stairs with full body armor so not even their faces can be seen. In the middle of it all I see two figures. Tarith and Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth the same Primehouse that Tarith had called me by. My father’s house.
Yawrith looks no different than she did a few days ago, still with her blood red leggings and black honeycomb shirt. All her sigils are glowing brightly, most likely freshly charged. Tarith however wears no armor, just a plain green full body tunic that matches his hair and eyes. Neither one looks to be in the gloating mood.
“Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth, I’m sorry things have come to such,” Yawrith says.
“If you were truly sorry you would let us go,” I say. “I find your words empty, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth.” I say the last word with disdain. More direct, Whisper just snarls at them.
“Whisper, don’t fight,” I say, realizing the danger. “Our only chance is to cooperate.”
“I could take them,” Whisper offers.
“Maybe,” I say. “But they would certainly be able to kill me and Sarah. You can’t fight them and protect us at the same time.”
“The cowards would use you as shields,” Whisper agrees and I see many stiffen at the remark.
“Jerry’s right,” Sarah adds in. “We have no choice but to follow the twisted little smurfs.”
Several guards brandish weapons at us but Yawrith restrains them with a single raised hand. “No violence. The Five await them and it will not be said that the Kiraten mistreat our prisoners before judgment is given.”
“Too late for that,” Sarah says.
“Perhaps,” Yawrith agrees.
With clockwork precision we are shackled, including Whisper and marched to the Five. Moving with slow steps, all that is allowed with my chains, I feel in a dream as we turn corners, marching in double file with fifty guards ahead and at least as many behind. I almost expect rows of people tossing rotten fruit as we pass by, but there is no one; just empty corridors until the guards split off on either side before a set of thick polished silver doors that reflect the room around us but oddly not the people. No one pushes the doors inward yet at our approach the doors open of their own accord. I feel a thick lump in my throat as we enter the chamber with Yawrith and Tarith. The guards all remain outside. I try to swallow but find I don’t even have enough spit as I cross the threshold.
The room is large but not nearly as big as the audience hall we first met the Primehouses in. In fact this place is fairly plain, the only thing of note being a set of stairs up to a raised platform in the center. Water surrounds the raised the dais, flowing with a gentle gurgling sound. Once we are inside the door closes just as mysteriously as it had opened. The feeling of dread that percolates in me reaches new peaks. It’s spooky as hell in here. Climbing to the top of the stairs I see five statues of various makes. They are over ten feet tall and worn from age, yet somehow still pristine. Each has its own little alcove and chair it is sitting in.
The left-most is an elderly man that has a wizardry presence about him, craved from white marble. It has a long beard with a pointy hat, a gnarled staff in one hand and a book in the other. A hooked nose give character to the face along with prodigious crow’s feet at both eyes. The eyes stand out the most. They are not Kiraten but look rather human instead. The craftsmanship is so great that the look of intelligence in the statue’s carved features is unmistakable. Garbed in a long robe that looks splendid despite being made of stone ends in tufts at the ankles, where two sandaled feet poke out from beneath the robe. The next statue is vastly fat and deformed, made of gritty sandstone. Shorter than the wizard statue it completely fills the chair with its bulk and had two stubby legs dangling slightly off the ground. The statue is naked and I am thankful for its girth, for it hides anything that might have been carved between its legs. The most disturbing thing is its face. It has a ring of horns growing out of its bald head like a built in crown of thorns. The eyes are immense, much too big for that face, almost owl sized in proportion. They give the impression of always watching. The mouth is a terror, stretching the entire length of its face and actually going around the sides a bit. While the mouth is closed, it is easy to imagine teeth more suitable to a predator rather than the flat teeth of a human or Kiraten.
The middle statue is unlike the others. It is definitely female and made of wood. The wood doesn’t have the dead, dried look I would expect from an old carving. This looks wet and still living. Its toga is the only human thing about it. More beast than woman it has a foxlike face including a snout and whiskers. It does have five fingers on each hand but instead of fingernails it most definitely has talons that left small scratches in the chair they rest upon. Past the toga it has no feet but instead hooves that conjure images of satyrs. The smallest of the statues, it is only just above ten feet tall yet it has an almost visceral aura of power around it, making it the fiercest of the five.
The next statue is the tallest and the most surprising. It looks like a distinguished gentlemen. Carved from obsidian it wears a rather fine pin-striped white suit made from quartz. It is the only statue made from two different materials. Extremely lean with abnormally long fingers, it looks like it could perform delicate surgery or twist a head off an infant The face is easy to dismiss at a glance with its plain, indistinct features. Yet looking closer you feel compelled to trust it with your most valuable secrets, and even closer you see how unwise it would be to do so.
The last statue is a warrior made of polished steel. Armored in glorious mail studded with blue sapphires it has a spear in one hand a round shield in the other. Barefoot, it has a haughty look of superiority to it as if it expects that it should be obeyed immediately and without question. The face is that of the Kiraten; the same delicate features and slit pupil eyes. The statue’s polished hair is artfully done in a wavy mess behind its back and glitters in the light. It is obvious that much care has gone into preserving this statue above all the others.
Striding forward Yawrith kneels before the statues along with Tarith. Never ones to bow to
inanimate objects, Sarah and I just stand while Whisper looks confused as the water gurgles far too loudly in the uncomfortable silence.
“I, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, come beseeching the five for their judgment upon Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth.”
At first nothing happens. I expected voices to come from each statue or something. Soft voices that she would bend close to hear and invent some kind of fake, already decided judgment on us. I do not expect the statues to come to life. With the groan of rock sliding on rock the statues all stand up and I hear Sarah’s gasp of surprise.
“We hear you, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, and have come,” the wooden female says. “We are ready to pass judgement.”
Whoa, this is all happening too fast! Am I supposed to defend myself? I should have asked for a lawyer! Not sure what to say or do, I take one step forward, shaking slightly. Yawrith lets out a hiss at my action but I ignore her. This is my fate and I’ll be damned if I am just going to be passive.
“Don’t I get a lawyer or something?” I say, nothing else popping into my mind.
A few of the figures find that amusing, letting out small chuckles. “No, Jerry Price, that is not necessary,” says the wizard. “We are well aware of events leading to this day. The only thing left to do is decided what course of action to take.”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Of course, let me give you a brief introduction,” the wizard says again. “I am Palentor.”
“I am Melephos,” the fat man says, giving me an evil glare.
“I am Belaroth,” says the woman.
“I am Shalarom,” says the tall gentlemen.
“I am Valerdon,” says the warrior.
“We are the Five,” Belaroth says. “We have come together in this place and time to pass judgment on you and your companions.”
I swallow, this is so not what I expected.
“Are you just statues then?” Whisper asks, fearless as always. This time all five do chortle.
“No, Whisper of clan Shifter,” says Belaroth. “These are merely puppets we use for judgment. We remain on our separate worlds for all time.”
“I’ve never seen you in my world,” Whisper accuses, looking at Belaroth.
“We each rule our world in our own way,” Belaroth says. “I am well aware of the Bartendor clan along with many others. I let you achieve balance and harmony without me.”
“Enough of the pleasantries,” says Valerdon his voice like a whip, stamping his spear in emphasis. “I want this matter resolved now.”
Pointing the spear at me Valerdon says, “Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth, you stand accused of breaking the most sacred law along with the deaths of over twenty Kiraten.”
“What law?” I blurt.
“The ancient law forbidding the interbreeding of different creations. Not since the dragons have our gifts have intermingled so.” Belaroth says.
“You’re accusing Jerry of being born?” Sarah says, outraged.
Damn, well I’m pretty sure I’m guilt of that.
“Essentially,” Palentor says. “Fear not child, for you are my creation and will be returning to Fomoria. The matter of Jerry Price is a different matter. It concerns all here, and I alone cannot decide.”
“I won’t let you harm him,” Whisper says in a snarl.
Belaroth gives him a warm smile that looks radiant on her foxy features. “I would expect nothing less of you, Whisper of clan Shifter. But the decision is not yours. Now remain silent.”
“The boy cannot be guilty for sins of father,” Palentor says. “He is mostly my creation and I should have jurisdiction over him.”
“That will not do,” Belaroth says. “He has three of the five in him and is a matter for all to judge.”
“The boy should die,” Melephos says. “Let me kill him now and end the matter.”
“You would say that, Melephos,” Belaroth says. “The boy has thwarted your disciple’s actions on the five worlds.”
“Solarkar’s actions are irrelevant,” Melephos says dismissively.
“Really?” Palentor says. “What is he doing on my world then? We have asked you before and you still refuse to answer.”
“I don’t need to answer to you, weakling!” Melephos says, glaring at Palentor. “I do what I will with my subjects.”
“Solarkar is mine,” Valerdon objects. “Give him to me, Melephos, and I’ll give you this boy.”
I stiffen. “Solarkar is unrelated to this matter and you do not have the right to exchange the boy,” Belaroth says.
“True enough,” Valerdon admits heatedly. Turning to me he continues. “The boy cannot be allowed to live. In time there is no telling how dangerous he might become. He already killed plenty of my Kiraten and such cannot be forgiven.”
“The boy’s shadow killed them,” Palentor corrects.
“The shadow is part of him,” Valerdon counters haughtily. “You know this as well, Palentor.”
“I would see this corruption for myself,” Shalarom says.
“Oh, great ones,” Yawrith says, trembling slightly. “That is a dangerous course of action. Never have I seen such corruption before.”
“Yes, so I heard. That is why I want to see it,” Shalarom says. “I can contain it.”
“It would put things into a better perspective,” Belaroth adds.
“The boy is evil. His shadow is an extension of that. Go ahead and show it to all here,” Valerdon says.
I want to cringe away as Shalarom approaches but I hold still, knowing resisting would get me nothing. He kneels down and with surprising gentleness removes my pendant. Straightening, he holds it close to his face, a happy little smile on his features. Closing his hand around the pendant there’s a bright flash of light and then darkness erupts out between his fingers. Valerdon hisses as the darkness collects near me, forming a dark silhouette.
My shadow is pissed beyond all reason and it leaks over to me, filling the part of me that was missing. It’s like I can breathe again. Not noticing the statues the first things my shadow sees are Yawrith and Tarith kneeling nearby.
“You!” My shadow cries and before I can do anything he stretches forth, trying to smoother them. With a raised hand Shalarom gestures at my shadow, who freezes in place. A ripple spreads across his black surface and again my shadow surges forward like a gear slipping only to be stopped a second time. Shalarom now has a very wide smile on his face.
“Never have I seen such corruption!” He says in a very affectionate tone. Turning to Palentor he gives a respectful nod. From the surprised looks of the others this hasn’t happened before. “Never could I have created such. You do good work with your creations, Palentor. It’s even greater than the fires of the first creations!”
Palentor remains silent, studying me and my shadow. Finally realizing he can’t reach his targets my shadow calms, returning to his standard silhouette near me. Looking up, my shadow studies each of the Five in turn, lingering the longest on Shalarom.
“What the hell is going on?” My shadow says.
“I just wanted a look at you, my brilliant corruption,” Shalarom says.
“We’ve all seen enough,” Valerdon says. “Put that filth back where it came from.”
“Who are you calling filth, you rusty statue!” My shadow says, growing significantly larger than the Five statues.
Shalarom simply laughs in delight, “Oh, how wonderful you are! But time to go back for now.” With a pulse of light the box activates, sucking my shadow into darkness.
“Not again!” My shadow screams, trying to stretch away.
Shalarom frowns and again the light pulses in his hand, drawing my shadow toward it. With a final pulse of light my shadow is sealed inside once more. Looking at the pendant again Shalarom shakes his head.
“Marvelous. Even the shadow wood pendant had difficulty restraining it,” Shalarom says as he replaces it around m
y neck.
“All the more reason for the boy to die,” Valerdon says. “Such evil cannot be allowed to spread.”
“Why not?” Shalarom says. “It would be so much fun.”
“I see where your shadow gets his personality,” Whisper says quietly.
“Yeah, no kidding,” I reply.
“The boy aside, what of his sire?” Belaroth says. “We had thought the abomination dead. Now it appears he might still live. Shalarom, is this your doing?”
“I am blameless,” Shalarom says and from his grin I’m not sure if he is lying or not. He hasa politician’s smile, meaning everything or nothing. “I too had thought him dead. Perhaps he had sired the boy before his demise at the hands of the Kiraten.”
“Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, step forth,” Valerdon says. Standing up Yawrith approached her god trembling with a mixture of awe and fear.
“You were assigned the task of dealing with the abomination. Is he dead or not?”
“I believe so. He fell between the worlds as we pursued him,” Yawrith says.
Valerdon nods in acceptance, “What of the boy then? Did he sire him after his death or before?”
“I’m not sure, oh great Valerdon,” Yawrith says.
“How old are you, boy?” Valerdon demands.
“Eighteen,” I say.
“That tells us nothing,” Palentor says. “The gestation period could be significantly different due to his mixed blood. Only the mother could tell us and she is no more.”
“If the father is dead then we must ensure that the spread of his taint ends with the boy,” Valerdon says. “He must die.”
“We didn’t kill the other,” Palentor points out.
“Much to my shame,” Valerdon says.
“I think we have enough discussion. Let the voting begin,” Belaroth says. I wait, holding my breath
“The boy shall live,” Palentor says. “He has fought against Solarkar and has done nothing but good. The death of the Kiraten was in self-defense only.”
“The boy shall die,” Melephos says. “The spawn of the abomination should not be allowed to cross the worlds and he sees fits.”
“The boy shall live,” Shalarom says. “I love his shadow and can’t wait to see what he will become given time.”
“The boy shall die,” Valerdon says angrily. “He has killed my Kiraten and is a sign of doom for us all.”
All eyes turn to Belaroth who has her eyes closed, deep in thought. “The boy shall live,” Belaroth says at last and Valerdon swears in anger. “The boy has helped restore balance in Elysium by his actions against Solarkar. I had at one time, thought he was the one responsible for the actions there. Watching him through my many eye servants, I even tried to kill him. Now I see I judged him too quickly and wish to redeem that decision now.”
Memories flash at Belaroth’s words. The watcher that saw me through reality the day my mother died along with the creature that shifted me to its world to kill me. “That was you!” I blurt.
“Yes, Jerry of house Price, I foolishly assumed since you could shift that you must be working with Solarkar who I have been hunting. I was mistaken and now wish remedy that by sparing your life.”
Sparing my life...that’s right, three of them said for me to live. I feel a wide smile bloom across my face and Sarah gives a whoop, throwing her arms around me as much as she could while still in shackles.
“Do no celebrate yet, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth,” Valerdon says, a nasty grin on his face. “Your life may be spared but you are still in my world. Here you will stay until you die of old age. I will not have you free.”
“Valerdon…” Belaroth begins.
“The rules are clear!” He thunders. “The bastard of Primehouse Ageroth came here of his own accord and here he shall remain until the worlds collide!”
“That’s very petty of you, Valerdon,” Palentor says.
“Perhaps you simply cannot see the wisdom of it, Palentor,” Melephos sneers, looking far too happy.
“What’s going on?” I say. One minute I was safe, now…
“Valerdon is enacting another law,” Shalarom says, glaring at him. “He has the right if you are in his world to contain you here as long as he is able too.”
“The boy has the Razoha in him. He won’t go anywhere. I’ll stick him with the other,” Valerdon says.
“Hopefully there will be no accident,” Melephos says gleefully, his fat face jiggling. “What a shame it would be to lose both at once. Accidents do happen though, perhaps from an over zealous guard…”
“Enough, Melephos,” Belaroth says and Melephos simply grins again. Valerdon however, looks thoughtful.
“What about the others?” Palentor says, looking a Sarah. “The woman Sarah Clifford is entirely of my world and was brought here without her consent. You cannot retain her here against her expressed desire.”
“I did come here…” Sarah begins.
“No, you didn’t Sarah Clifford,” Palentor interrupts. “Solarkar brought you to Elysium and then Jerry brought you to Inti, never asking your permission. You can return to Fomoria. If you stay you will be entirely in Valerdon’s power.”
“I won’t go!” Sarah says, squeezing me tightly. “I love him.” I feel my heart ache and nearly break with those words.
“I believe you do, child,” Palentor says. “But I have need of you on Fomoria. Solarkar is still alive and making his drug for reason I do not yet understand.” He gives Melephos an angry glare. “You have seen me and much else. I need you to work against him on our world.”
Tears leak from Sarah’s eyes as she battles between wanting to go home and fight Solarkar, and staying with me. I feel my own eyes filling, blurring the chamber around me.
“Sarah,” I say. “Please go. I will find a way back to you. I don’t know what Solarkar is doing but its evil and someone must stop him.”
“You will never leave my world, bastard of Primehouse Ageroth,” Valerdon sneers. I ignore him and that seems to piss him off more than any response I could have given.
“Can’t Solarkar simply shift me again?” Sarah says. She is looking for any excuse to stay with me and I feel the tears fall at those words. Could my heart ache any more than it does right now?
“I will provide you with a talisman to prevent you from shifting without your consent, child,” Palentor says, smiling down upon her. “Solarkar will not be able to take you again unless he wishes to face you in battle.”
There are no excuses left. Sarah, her face wet, gives me a long kiss and then whispers in my ear, “You better come back or I’ll come here and get you.” With more pain that I thought possible she pulls away from me, walking to Palentor who, with a flick of his finger, undoes her chains.
“Whisper of clan Shifter, if it is your wish we shall return you to Elysium and you can rejoin the Bartendor clan there,” Belaroth says.
Whisper shakes his head. “I will stay with Shifter,” Whisper says and Valerdon glowers at the name.
“I will not allow that,” Valerdon says. “Be gone from my world never to return.”
Whisper snarls at him, baring his sharp teeth.
“It is Valerdon’s right to banish you from Inti. If you insist on staying it will be in his power to kill you if he desires. The same holds true for the woman. He would surely do so simply to hurt Jerry of clan Shifter,” Belaroth says. “Will you not come with me now?”
Whisper, looking more heartbroken than when his mother died, turns his very blue eyes to me. “What should I do, Shifter?”
I hadn’t thought it was possible for me to feel worse, now I know how wrong I was. Sarah and Whisper had made me feel whole and complete. Now these parts of me are being ripped away by a cruel surgeon.
“Go with Sarah,” I say. “She will need help against Solarkar and there is no one I trust more to protect her than you.”
“I will go with Sarah of clan C
lifford,” Whisper says, his voice trembling.
“Clan Shifter,” Sarah says, tears in her eyes. “I am of clan Shifter.”
“I will allow this,” Belaroth says, looking at Palentor.
Palentor gives her a respectful bow. “I will gladly accept Whisper into my world.”
“It has been decided then,” Belaroth says, and with a gesture Whisper’s chains fall off. Pressing his face close to mine, I snuggle into his soft fur for what may be the last time before he trots over to join Sarah by Palentor.
“You’d better find us!” Sarah yells.
“Come back to us, Shifter!” Whisper cries.
“I will!” I promise and suddenly they are gone, shifted away back to earth, Fomoria.
I try to see them but the Razoha prevents even my gaze from crossing realities.
“You will not,” Valerdon promises darkly. “Take the boy. Stick him with the other.”
Yawrith and Tarith rise, gently pulling on my chains as I continue to stare at the spot where Sarah and Whisper had been. They can’t really be gone from me, can they? The Five return to their seats with loud creaks, becoming plain statues once more. As I near the door the realization of everything hits me. They are gone. All because of whom and what I am. Turning to Yawrith, I see her pointedly ignoring me, focused straight ahead.
“Yawrith, who is my father? What has he done to cause all this?” I ask, feeling defeated.
She doesn’t answer, just keeps pulling me.
“Answer me, you bitch!” I yell and feel my pendant twitch. Stiffening at my insult, she keeps silent, not looking at me. Desperate I look to Tarith, who I am surprised to find has tears of his own in his eyes.
“Tarith, please…” I say.
“Say no more, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth,” Tarith says. “The injustice done to you today is already too much for me to bear. Ask the other when you see her. She can tell all.”
The rest is a fading dream to me. Everything is surreal without Sarah and Whisper. I feel unreal, tinkering on the border of nonexistence. I don’t even have my shadow with me anymore. He is completely isolated around my neck. So near, yet so far away. I’ve lost everything. I go down corridors seeing nothing at all. I am just walking like a machine one step after another. We go outside and the fresh air does little to wake me from my nightmare. I am shoved roughly into a carriage, falling flat on my face. I can’t even find the will to rise, even if my chains had allowed it. Time is immaterial to me. It could have been hours or even a day when the carriage finally stops. Nothing registers with me. Not even when my shackles are removed do I come to life. It isn’t until I am shoved once again through black castle gates into a familiar looking courtyard that my senses return to me. The guards leave me alone save for a young Kiraten girl sitting cross-legged in the courtyard, wearing a soft lavender dress. She looks at me with sad purple slit-pupil eyes.
“Oh brother, not you too…” says the Shame of Valerdon.