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  The Door in Crow Wood

  By Rob Summers

  Copyright 1996,1997 Rob Summers

  Library of Congress Copyright Number for The Empress,

  Part I of The Door in Crow Wood: TXu000839363

  Library of Congress Copyright Number for The Emperor,

  Part II of The Door in Crow Wood: TXu000839364

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  The Empress, Part I of The Door in Crow Wood

  Prologue: Six Years Before the Kulismos

  Chapter 1: The Misara Fijata Razabera

  Chapter 2: Tsawb

  Chapter 3: The Ruins of Lucilla

  Chapter 4: The Summer Stars

  Chapter 5: The Vulture’s Borders

  Chapter 6: The Village of Ruin

  Chapter 7: The Iron House of Ursula

  Chapter 8: The Valley of the Past

  Chapter 9: The Palace of Reflections

  Chapter 10: The Council of Simone

  Chapter 11: The Mountain Track

  Chapter 12: Simone the Soldier

  Chapter 13: Trans-Titan

  Chapter 14: The Battle of the Field of Parting

  Chapter 15: The Crossroads

  Chapter 16: The Valley of Thunders

  Chapter 17: Cemetery House

  Chapter 18: The Trunk-Fire

  Chapter 19: Hazot Tower

  Chapter 20: The Pretender

  The Emperor, Part II of The Door in Crow Wood

  Chapter 21: The Galley Heracles

  Chapter 22: The Little Appian

  Chapter 23: Kulismos

  Chapter 24: The Menander Tollpoint

  Chapter 25: Farja

  Chapter 26: Metuza the Dog

  Chapter 27: The Black Hall of Purgos

  Chapter 28: The Heretics’ Pool

  Chapter 29: The Court of Chess

  Chapter 30: The Silb Maze

  Chapter 31: Dowerkass

  Chapter 32: Nashpa of the Mangars

  Chapter 33: The Ride to the Snow

  Chapter 34: The Ice Caves

  Chapter 35: The Medallion and the Cloak

  Chapter 36: The Emperor’s Battle

  Chapter 37: Zeeba, Daughter of Nero

  Chapter 38: And the People of the East Shall Be Saved

  Chapter 39: Tsawb Again

  Chapter 40: The Witch Gelen

  Postscript: In the Year of the Kulismos

  Rob Summers’ Other Works

  About Rob Summers

  Connect with Rob Summers

  Chronology of the Fold

  Word List of Kreenspam

  Moves to the Chess Game

  Where are the Maps?

  (A note from the author)

  An ebook reader or smart phone screen is far from ideal for displaying maps. So with apologies I ask the reader to download PDF format images, created by me, of 1) a map of the continent of the Fold and 2) a map of the entire Fold, both at: https://www.scribd.com/doc/163833791/2-Fold-maps These may then be viewed and printed. Their artistic merit may be judged from the portion shown on the book cover, but the forgiving reader will find them useful.

  The Empress

  Part I of The Door in Crow Wood

  Prologue: Six Years Before the Kulismos

  Twelve year old Simone Gareth sat on the sun warmed cemetery bench, stroked the little invisible animal at her side, and cried. All around them the ground was carpeted with dazzling leaves, and the wind was tearing down more from the sugar maple boughs. Two early snowbirds hopped in the branches. The tall, thin girl thrust her hands in her jacket pockets to control their shaking.

  “If you go,” she said, “I don’t have anybody.”

  The creature’s claws skittered on the concrete bench surface as it turned to face her.

  “You have your family,” it said, it’s voice scratchy and high.

  “Some family,” Simone pouted.

  “And I’ll come back,” it went on gently, “if at all possible. The only Door known that connects my world with yours is far away in the Mediterranean Sea, and it was very difficult for me to reach you from there. But now that I’ve done it once I see I have some chance of doing it again. Still, I must warn you that it may be years.”

  “I’ll just die,” Simone muttered.

  “Simone—Simone? I’ll miss you very much.”

  “Then why do you have to go? It’s only been four months.”

  “I’ve told you. I have to report to my people. I’ll come back for you. You and your brother must someday come to my world—to the Fold.”

  “Raspberry, tell me now about your world.”

  The little creature locked its front claws into her jacket sleeve. “I’ve told you very little, I know, because the language lessons have been more important. When you and Clay come, that will be soon enough to learn about our ways. Promise me that you’ll study, Simone. Study both Gellene and Kreenspam equally, for you’ll need both languages. And you must make Clay study too.”

  “He doesn’t like to learn them, not like I do.”

  “But he must learn them. Simone, swear by Ulrumman that you won’t forget and put the books aside. Remember that I brought them here at the risk of my life. You swear?”

  “OK, I swear by Ulrumman.” She wondered dully who or what she was swearing by.

  “Good. Someday I’ll make it clear to you why you must know our languages and come to our land. You’re too young for the whole story, but I’ll tell you this much that I’ve been holding back. We Fijats have kept a watch on your family for twenty-three generations. Yes, we knew your remote ancestors.”

  Simone’s eyes widened. Suddenly she thought she understood something. “Is that why we’ve had so many ghost stories in our family? Was it you?”

  “My folk, yes.”

  “Mom—when she was in college—she said she heard things, saw things move.”

  “Yes, a clumsy friend of mine who was not supposed to be noticed by her. Zatel is rather old now, and is probably napping high in a yellow wood in my homeland. It was he who instructed me how to get here to Viola, Indiana, when I was chosen to come looking for your mother. Twenty-two years had passed since his visit, you know. We didn’t even know that Susan Tanner had married and had children.”

  Simone’s tears had at last stopped. She looked down at the place where the Fijat crouched invisible. “Raspberry, why didn’t your friend talk to Mom like you do to me? She still thinks it was ghosts.”

  “Much has changed since then, my dear. Then we waited and watched. Now the time has come to reveal ourselves, to draw you back to the Fold. But when I came I was so worried about frightening you.”

  Simone faintly smiled. “You wrote those notes to me in the margin of my Alice in Wonderland.” (She spoke as of something long ago, though it had only been in June.) “I thought I was going crazy, or that Clay was playing a trick. And the first time you spoke to me, I was scared.” A leaf fell in her lap and she brushed it away. “But after you became a secret friend to Clay and me, life became so interesting. You gave us the language lessons, and you taught us to be brave and unselfish and truthful. How to be a noble descendant, a Misara Sisskame.”

  “Both words are accented on the second syllable, dear.”

  Simone said it again, correctly. Then they were quiet, both remembering the business at hand.

  “To you I am Raspberry, a secret friend who you know little about, but—” Simone began to cry afresh. “—but in my own land, in the Hule Argura or Silver Forest, I am the Misara Fijata Razabera, and a member of the council of the Forest Obscure. I have great responsibilities.”

  “Yeah, you’re on boards and committees,” Simone said bitterly, “like Mom.


  “No, child, it’s different. I can’t explain everything; it’s too much for you to hear now.” Raspberry rubbed Simone’s hand with her furry muzzle. “I must go. Goodby doesn’t say it well enough, does it? But goodby, my dearest.”

  Simone took a few ragged breaths. “Goodby, Raspberry.”

  The Fijat dropped to the leaves and skittered off a few paces. “Study the languages!” she said. “Never forget me! I will come back and you must be ready. Be very careful of yourself and of Clay. Goodby!”

  Simone heard the creature race off across the cemetery lawn. She stood and ran after her.

  “Raspberry, Raspberry!”

  She stopped and listened, her lips trembling. No answer. In a lull in the wind, the fallen leaves all about her lay unstirred. Slowly she turned back and made her way to the break in the fence that separated Greenlawn from her own yard. She climbed a steep bank to Cemetery House where her younger brother Clay stood by the ramshackle back porch, his blond hair sticking out from under a stocking cap.

  He grinned nervously. “She’s gone?”

  “Yeah,” Simone said. “Maybe for years. I guess we’re orphans again.”

  She passed through the porch into the house. In the bathroom she washed her face and then surveyed herself in the mirror of the medicine chest, her fists clenched at her sides.

  “Mij koru dal zel-korangfetal, Razabera,” she said with all her soul.

  (I never will forget you, Raspberry.)