Realm Law: Book Two of The Five Realms Trilogy

Death Falls

The night passed in wretched silence—only prolonged, familiar, and deepened torment. The hours crawled by as she simmered in silent wretchdeness such as had nearly destroyed her in Rushbrook. Her blanket, which had never dried completely from the dunking, grew even more damp and clammy from a late evening drizzle. The barren ground provided neither wood for a fire, nor cushion against the rocky ground.

She watched the amber moon with a mixture of envy and despair as it broke free of the clouds and sailed into a clear sky. She wished she could be so free, instead of trapped on this cold, isolated pile of rock, with grit blowing in her eyesm looking forward to more days trapped in cylindrical floating tomb known as a canoe. She felt alone in her misery. Teeth chattering, her swollen fingers throbbing, she curled into a ball, waiting for morning to rescue her from another sleepless ordeal.

She tried hard that night to focus her thoughts on Ehiloru, the man who had saved her life, who was the excuse she had given for leaving the shelter of Tishaara and embarking on this wretched return journey. Ehiloru, the first person in the realms who had spoken kindly to her, the man who had saved her, was perhaps now in danger. Yes, she felt some sort of obligation to repay the kindness of the prophet, just as a matter of etiquette. But she would not mind doing so in the comfort of some Ordunese palace.

She could remember so few of the details of that time through which she had lived, or rather survived, while flirting with insanity. Only vaguely could she remember being brought out of that stinking, festering cesspool of a prison cell through some back alleys and dark hallways, to the office of Eldorean, governor of Rushbrook. As she pieced together the scene, she wondered if the room could really have been as gaudy and tasteless as what she remembered, lit by some molten liquid that poured down the length of a wall into some sort of tub and then recycled itself, like a giant lava lamp. Could those giant tapestries behind the slickly polished desk really have been orange? Was that really a moosehead full of spider webs hanging crooked over the doorway?

And that Eldorean! Slicked back, greasy gray hair, like some old time 50’s rocker. Faking like he was some kindly grandfather figure to his beloved people. Ehiloru had put him in his place.

Memory of the weasly little governor's discomfort brought her the only moment of satisfaction she experienced during her time in Rushbrook. Hw had shriveled like a raisin under the great prophet’s withering glare and biting cross-examination. Eldorean, with a legion of soldiers at his command, sat there fawning and wriggling like a worm before lone, unarmed man, who mopped the floor with him.

One exchange out of that morning had penetrated her shell-shocked consciousness and continued to stick with her. Eldorean had tried to justify their detention of Delaney and Berch by saying something like, “I am certain the Creator would not be pleased with us if we were to be so negligent as to allow the haven of humble service entrusted to us to crumble at the hands of those who would defile the order which he has ordained.”

Ehiloru’s face had so darkened in rage that all in the room, even the soldiers, cringed even before he opened his mouth. When he spoke, though a bridle of civility kept the fury of his words in check, they nonetheless shook the ruler down to his shiny boots. “Do you dare appeal to the Creator for justification of your reign, Eldorean? Very well, the time is coming, and soon, when you shall get what you seek. You shall get your hearing before the throne of justice.” And then those glorious words, given as a command by a plainly robed man to the bejeweled ruler: “If you have any respect at all for your Creator, you will release the prisoners into my care at once.”

She had not thanked him, had never been in any mental condition to do so. But now, perhaps, she could do so. And he could take care of her, just as before. Yeah, I wouldn't mind being taken care of for a little while. Not by him anyway.

Morning brought relief of a sort, but lack of sleep put her in a poor mood to continue their mission. The fact that virtually all of their food had been dispersed in the river did nothing to boost her spirits. Windglow assured her they could quickly replenish the supply with wild game and roots, but that sounded anything but appealing. She found nothing remotely invigorating about the pull of the swift current as it funneled them into a valley where jagged stone melted into flat, grassy meadows, glowing green under the bright Third Realm sun.

Delaney reflected on how Roland, had he been in her place, would be soaking up the beauty of the throbbing sapphire skies, the pure water, and the fragrance of clover and spring flowers breaking out of winter’s sterile confinement. He would have greeted the shores crowded with tall reeds, budding shrubs, and occasional willows whose stripped branches flailed in the wind like cats-o-nine-tails as gifts from the gods. Yet she could only sit, glumly hunched in the middle of the canoe, checking the progress of the sun every so often to see how closely loomed another night. Checking off the miles until they reached the comfort of Orduna.

No matter how dull the days, night always came too quickly. The absence of washing facilities and the necessity of wearing the same overripe clothes day after day left her feeling absolutely barbaric. What made matters even more intolerable was that the others seemed content with their primitive lifestyle.

Shaska tried hard to cheer her up, gently drawing her into conversation whenever possible. Windglow drifted in and out of his usual dreamy distractions, while Hummer’s incessant overblown banter was beginning to grate on Delaney’s nerves. None of her companions had a clue as to the extent of her misery until Shaska discovered her late one night on a flat rock beside the river. Delaney sat, tailor-fashion, rocking herself with her eyes tight shut.

“Delaney, are you all right?” asked Shaska.

“I’m fine,” said Delaney, dully. But feigned courage was not her style. “Who am I kidding?” she said. “This is a living hell! I hate it. I just want to go home.”

Shaska put an arm around her and sat with her quietly. “Delaney,” she said, softly after a few minutes, “tell me about your home.”

Delaney snorted bitterly. “I wish I could. Roland once said that your realmlands eat memories, and it’s true. All I really remember is that it didn’t suck like this. I can’t remember anything unless something happens to trigger it. Then it kind of hits you in the face, like a water balloon that comes flying out of the blue. Then just when you finally start to really remember it again, it disappears. I miss my family so much I want to cry, but I couldn’t even tell you right now who they are or what they look like! Yet when I lay down at night on a hard tree root, I clearly remember sleeping on a queen-size bed with clean sheets and a soft mattress.

“It’s like my memories are still here,” she said, tapping her head, “but they’re locked up in a safe. Like I can’t get to them unless some sight or sound unlocks the combination.

Shaska put her hand on Delaney’s neck and began to massage it. “I am so sorry.”

“You know what I never realized before?” said Delaney. “The past is not past--I think there was a famous writer who said something like that. It is not something that shaped you once and now is gone. The past is always here. It’s what makes you you. You can’t really be who you are without knowing who you were. Without my memories, I don’t even know who I am most of the time. I don’t feel llike I am really anybody. I don't feel like I’m really alive.”

Shaska continued her massage; her powerful fingers felt more soothing than anything Delaney had felt in the realms.

“If I could reach back into that other world of yours for just a second to bring you one thing,” said the Tishaaran at last, “what would you like it to be?”

Delaney perked up, imagining for a moment that Shaska had some magical means of delivering her wishes. But as soon as she realized the question was merely hypothetical, she shrugged. You don’t get it at all, do you? What did I just tell you about my memory? But then she felt a pang of hunger, and without quite knowing what she was saying, she blurted out, “Chocolate.”

“Chocolate? Is that a person, place or a thing?”

Delaney wondered how such a clear vision managed to leap out of her clouded past when she couldn't even recall such crucial details as whether she had a brother. She closed her eyes and thought hard, desperate to hang on to the memory.

“Mmmmm,” she said, dreamily. “It’s dark and sweet and smooth. It melts on your tongue and turns to cream.” Oh, it is so yummy. If only I had a chocolate bar right now, I could get through the night.

“Is chocolate a medicine?” asked Shaska. “Or perhaps a magic potion such as can be found in the Fourth Realm?”

“What? Oh, no. No,” said Delaney, snapping out of her reverie. The image was gone. “It’s just a food. You know, a dessert. I don’t know what made me think of it.”

“What is it made of? Perhaps Tishaaran cooks can make it.”

“It’s made from—" She had no idea what it was made from. "—something".

“It sounds wonderful.”

"Girl, you have no idea."

As Delaney finally lay down in her blanket, she thanked Shaska. She was grateful for the chance to talk about even the most tenuous connection with home, even if home was nothing but a hunger for a sweet that she could not quite remember anymore. But as much as she appreciated Shaska’s concern, she reflected sourly on her companion. Shaska’s so nice--sweet as a chocolate bar--but what can she know about loneliness and misery? No one as beautiful as she could ever be lonely. Or depressed. And she's totally into this outdoor stuff.

She realized suddenly that she had been thankful at first to have Shaska along, thinking that she was more on her level athletically and in terms of outdoor ruggedness. She felt shamed by her stereotype, which Shaska had easily defied; she appeared to be the most knowledgeable, wilderness-savvy, and athletic of the bunch. But Shaska’s well-rounded abilities Delaney feel her own inadequacy more acutely. Sweet, beautiful, buff, outdoorsy. Gives great neck rubs. Doesn't s he have any faults?

Not for the first time, Delaney thought how badly she was going to miss Roland. Not that he was as big a klutz as me, but at least he made me feel like I was an okay person instead of dumb, ugly little toad. And he was willing to come with me. Way to screw that up Delaney!

Careful to give both the recent and traditional Raxxar haunts a wide berth, they paddled far south of the route they had come when leaving the Second Realm in their flight to Tishaara. As they progressed, the freshly greening valley burned away again into sandstone and bare rock. The river passed beyond wide, flat banks into a narrow gorge cut through naked bluff and eroding cliffs.

Convinced that they were well clear of the danger, Hummer sang at the top of his voice, in a very capable tenor. When he was not manhandling the conversation, he tried to coax the others into joining his largely nonsensical songs.

At the end of one song about a dizzy duck who migrated by flying in circles, Shaska went into a prolonged coughing fit. “I cannot seem to get rid of this tickle in my throat.”

“Now that you mention it, I feel it too,” said Windglow. “A burning sensation.”

“My ears have been damaged beyond repair,” said Puddles, with glare at Hummer. “Other than that I feel fine.”

“I wonder if we are catching a chill from such long spells in damp clothing,” said Shaska, barely choking out the words.

“My, my,” clucked Hummer. “Have we an epidemic of the sore throat?” Suddenly he broke into a fit of hacking. At the same time, Delaney gasped, grabbed her throat, and doubled over in convulsions.

“Great land!” croaked Hummer. “Something has burnt the very lining in my throat to a crisp!”

A moment later the canoe rocked from stern to bow with coughs and strangled cries from everyone but Puddles.

“Pantywaists,” scoffed the sherrott.

“This is a poor time for—” wheezed Hummer, struggling mightily for breath. Further talk was impossible.

Windglow flopped in his seat like a landed walleye as he fought for breath. Delaney, tears streaming down her face, tried to cry. But her breath was cut off before it could enter her lungs. Her eyes burned so badly that even the tears that poured from them seemed to scald her cheeks. She crawled along the bottom of the canoe, trying to sniff out a pocket of uncontaminated air. But it was no good. She could only breathe out, never in.

The expedition would have ended right there had not a gust of wind wafted in from the south. At once, the choking, biting air dissipated. All gulped hungrily for oxygen. They were still inhaling deeply when the breeze died, and the poisonous air returned, searing their lungs. While holding his breath, Hummer managed enough strokes of the paddle to guide the canoe to the eastern shore. There, the southern breeze began to prevail, cleansing the air of the deadly vapor. The travelers sat up, flushed their stinging eyes with river water, and panted for breath.

“Now that was an experience I should think we could have done without,” said Hummer.

“May I see the map a moment?” asked Shaska.

“Whatever I have is yours, dear,” he said, gallantly.

She wiped her mattery eyes as she puzzled over the parchment. “Do you know what I think? See this over here--Death Falls?” She jabbed her finger at a point on the paper. “Our cartographers have put this too far to the west. We must be near these falls.”

“Death Falls, eh?” said Hummer. “Could it be that someone is ever so subtly trying to tell us something about the place? I say we heed the warning and hasten away from that accursed place with all speed.”

“Oh, but think about it!” said Shaska, her face lighting up. “Imagine what such a falls must look like! To my knowledge, no Tishaaran has ever seen them. Would it not be grand to be the first?”

“Certainly,” said Hummer. "It would be similarly grand to sneeze drops of golden perfume. But neither of them is going to happen. Fortunately for you, there are men of sense and sober reflection to temper your impulsive tendencies.

“This is not a sight-seeing trip,” said Windglow, softly. “We have been charged with an important mission and we must stick to that. Even if we had the time, Shaska, we should avoid that poisonous place at all costs. Had Hummer not steered us to safety just in time, it would have killed us.”

“Feel free to express your thanks in whatever ways seems most appropriate,” said Hummer with a wink at the women.

“How’s this?” said Puddles, sticking out his tongue.

“Watch it!” warned Hummer. Turning to Shaska, he said, “You know I would follow you to the ends of the world, my sweet. Yet as far as the falls are concerned, I must wholeheartedly concur with the evaluation of my esteemed and learned colleague.” He clasped Windglow on the shoulder. “Shaska, just take a deep breath and think. How can you even think of approaching Death Falls? Have you lost your senses?”

“Can’t lose what you never had,” commented Puddles.

“I would have thought everyone would wish to see it,” said Shaska.

“Would have thought?” said Puddles. “You mean, assuming you had access to a brain?”

“I tell you what,” said Hummer, glowering. “I shall go with you to the falls on one condition. That when we get there, we throw that half-wit in.”

“Certainly not,” said Shaska, smiling “I'm just afraid of living the rest of my life wondering what I missed. Do you wish to go, Delaney?”

Are you serious? She already felt as though she had blisters down the length of her throat. The last thing she wanted was to go anywhere near the source of those fumes. But Shaska’s nocturnal sympathy had knitted the first few strands of a bond between them. Now those eager, hopeful eyes seemed to be reaching out to her, begging for a partner.

“Sure,” said Delaney, with a shrug. “We could see how close we could get, you know, depending on the wind. As long as we’re careful. I mean, she’s right, when will we ever get another chance to see Death Falls?"

Windglow’s mouth fell open. He stared at Delaney as if seeing her for the first time. “I do not mean to be a scold, but aside from the danger, this does not pertain to our mission. We dare not waste time.”

“Oh, hang the mission, Windglow,” said Hummer. “When women get something stuck in their craw there is no way on earth mere mortal men can pry it loose. May as well humor them for a few hours or they will peck us to death with their complaints for the rest of the trip.”

Faced with unanimous opposition, Windglow eventually gave in, with painful reluctance. He did, however, insist on two conditions. First, they must approach the falls from upwind. Second, they must instantly abandon the attempt the instant the winds proved unfavorable.

The four paddled a good mile to the south. They beached their canoe on the west bank and hiked back upstream toward a flat-topped, squarish mesa. From beyond the rocks came a hissing like a leak in a steam pipe. Delaney enjoyed neither the hike nor the long climb that followed, and had already come to regret her foolish gesture of friendship. Although the walls of the mesa were not as steep as appeared from a distance, the rock was covered with the crusty deposits of oxidized metals that crumbled into powder at the slightest touch. The strain of the climb under such slippery conditions made it difficult for her to maintain the shallow breaths she was taking as a precaution against the fumes returning. But the prevailing breeze had so far swept the air clear in front of them.

The sun hung low in the sky by the time they reached the top, where a steady rush of steam and a thick mist greeted them. No sooner did Windglow hoist himself onto to the top of the butte than he gasped and clutched at his throat. He swung back behind the wall, nearly dislodging Shaska, who was muscling her way over the top.

“That settles it,” said Hummer. “We have come as far as we could. Time to go back.”

But Shaska pleaded for a chance to figure out a way to catch a glimpse of the hidden treasure.

“Perhaps this dear fellow could help us out,” she said, patting a very bored Puddles. “The fumes do not seem to harm him. Puddles, would you do us a favor and see what the falls are like? I would not feel so bad if we could at least come back with a report of what it is like.”

Rolling its eyes in annoyance of being asked to run an errand far beneath him, Puddles reluctantly accepted a boost to the top.

“Would you look at that!” exclaimed Hummer, as the sherrott waddled off, slowly. “The little stinker is cooperating! I have never seen a sherrott do such a thing! Why, Shaska, you enchantress! I think the creature is in love with you.”

They watched and waited, eyes just below the level of the summit to avoid the fumes. Puddles reached the far end of the mesa, shot a disinterested glance over the far edge, then turned around. A few moments later, it hopped back down on Windglow’s shoulder.

“Puddles, did you see it?” asked Shaska, bouncing with anticipation.

“Of course I saw it, frog face. I’ve got eyes.”

“Well?! What was it like? Describe it!”

“Was it breath-taking?” Hummer chuckled, pleased with his joke.

“Whatever,” said Puddles. “Let’s go back. I’m hungry.”

Shaska gaped at the sherrott in disbelief, an expression Delaney had never before seen on a Tishaaran.

“Come on, princess,” said Hummer, draping an arm around her. “What were you expecting, color lodes?”

“A lot of time wasted for nothing, if I may be so bold,” sighed Windglow. “Really, we have more important work to do. We cannot risk our mission on any more of these, pardon the expression, frivolous distractions.”

As they began descending the mesa, Delaney felt a twinge of regret. Although she had not wanted to expend the effort in the first place, and hated the climb, she had hoped there might be something worth seeing at the end of it all to justify the pains incurred.

Shaska was thinking similar thoughts. After fixing a suspicious glance on Puddles, she suddenly tore away from Hummer’s paternal condolence and charged back up the slope. Hummer scrambled after her, but when it came to climbing, no one could match a motivated Shaska.

She pulled herself onto the summit, leaned back over the edge to take a deep breath of air, and drew back to avoid Hummer’s lunge. In the heat of the moment, he forgot about the lethal fumes. As he grabbed for Shaska’s ankles, he inhaled a dose that nearly strangled him. He dropped back below the summit, hacking and gasping for breath.

“Shaska!” screamed Delaney, as the Tishaaran raced across the mesa. Shaska stopped at the far edge of the summit and surveyed the scene below her. Time seemed to stop as she stood entranced, as if the enormity of her folly was caught and frozen in a still picture. Minutes elapsed and still she stood there.

Wild with fear, Delaney shrieked, “Shaska! Get back!” After an agonizing delay, Shaska finally did turn back, her face red and bloated, her eyes throbbing, her beauty distorted in a gruesome mask. With the last reserves of her strength, she sprinted across the mesa.

But she had misjudged the limits of her ample capacity. Before she got back to safety, she gasped, clutched at her throat, and fell, writhing in agony. Hummer drew a quick breath and sprang after her, arriving just ahead of Windglow. The two frantically dragged her back to the sheltered side.

Even with an infusion of fresh air, Shaska jerked and kicked and frothed and vomited and finally gurgled in semiconsciousness. Delaney could not help holding her own breath in sympathy as Shaska struggled painfully for every weak sip of air.

At long last, Shaska sat up. She tried to open her eyes but cried out in pain and pressed her fists against her sockets. When she finally spoke, she could manage no more than a hoarse whisper.

“Ow! Thank you. All of you. I am fine, now.”

“You neither look nor sound fine,” scolded Hummer. “And I cannot say that I have a scintilla of sympathy for you. None at all. I hardly need to tell you that you did a very foolish thing, young lady!”

“Which is vintage Shaska from what I’ve seen,” said Puddles.

“Somebody horsewhip that creature!” croaked Shaska.

The others stared at her in stunned silence. Such an outburst from one so unfailingly gracious and tender was even more shocking than her insane dash to the falls.

“I am glad you finally concede the point,” said Hummer.“I have been advocating the same and worse for some time. I say we cook and eat him and be done with him.”

“I am sorry,” said Windglow, meekly. “I have tried to improve his attitude, but you know how it is with sherrotts.”

Shaska shook her head, still grimacing through the tears streaming from her clenched eyes. “You do not understand,” she gasped. “I mean he should be whipped for pretending the falls were not worth the effort! To think that we would have missed it all because of his false report!”

“I saw a stupid falls. Big deal!” said Puddles.

“When you’re feeling better, Shaska,we’ll want to hear all about it,” said Delaney, brightly. Despite the fact that Shaska’s injuries were her own dumb fault, Delaney felt somehow obligated to cheer her up.

Shaska shook her head. “You must see it!” she whispered. “And me, too. I must see it one more time before we go.”

Windglow’s mouth flew open. Hummer shook his head in disbelief. “That stuff has damaged her mind,” he said.

“Damaged her mind?” scoffed Puddles. “That’d be like kicking a corpse.”

Spurred on by both her own curiosity and her newly formed solidarity with Shaska, Delaney leapt to her defense. “No. I would like to see it, too. If there’s any way possible. It must be really awesome if Shaska thinks it’s worth this price. Isn’t there some way we can see it? I mean her only problem was that she stayed, like, forever."

Windglow blinked at her as if he had totally lost any point of reference to reality. “Can you not see with your own eyes the risk? This is Death Falls! Look at Shaska. She has burnt her throat at the very least, possibly her eyes, and is lucky to be alive. That in a person who can hold her breath longer than an oyster. What chance would you have?”

“No,” said Shaska. “Foolish indulgence caused this. I stayed too long. A foolish lack of discipline. Take but a brief look. Dash back. You must see this.”

“You scheming little vixen!” exclaimed Hummer, rubbing his beard. “Every bone in my body warns me to walk away from this temptation that shall have me itching with curiosity that shall drive me mad until I scratch it. Hang it all now, I must see what you're talking about."

Outnumbered for the second time that day, Windglow groaned in frustration. “What is the matter with you people? All right, I shall not stand in your way if you wish to take a look, Hummer. Nor you, Delaney. But Shaska, you must stay here. You are in no condition to try this again.”

Shaska tried to open her eyes but they stung so badly that she cried out in anguish. “You are right,”she admitted, tearfully. “Go then. Just for a glimpse. You will not regret it.”

“I already regret coming this far,” said Windglow. “And Delaney, pardon my imposition, but you have two seconds to look. That is all you can afford. Two seconds and then run for all you are worth. If you do not, I shall drag you myself."

Delaney could not believe she was doing it. Her heart pumping at the prospect of danger, she crawled up on top of the mesa and inhaled deeply a few times. On the count of three, she filled her lungs and joined the two men in a dash across the top.

When she reached the edge, she understood Shaska’s problem. The sight was magnetic almost beyond resistance.

At her feet, a bowl-shaped gorge cut deep into a cradle of stone. Green and ocher rock, smooth as glass, shone through a spouting mist. From out of a bright, turquoise cliff on the far side of the gorge poured a stream, thicker than water, spilling in a syrupy curtain. This was an acid of some sort that bubbled and sizzled in a staccato of soft explosions that chewed up all but the glassy substrate upon which it flowed. Nearer to Delaney, a stream of caustic gushed from a sheer wall of crystal.

The two hissing falls poured into a foaming, fizzing, boiling lake. Clouds of tiny droplets danced in the air and then showered down on the green froth.

This violent sculpturing process had eroded the substrate. Hardened, compressed, and polished by the action of the chemicals, it had been twisted into bizarre, fragile needles and tattered obelisks that coiled around the rocks like weathered strings of taffy.

All this she saw in a few brief seconds. As she beheld the scene, she already felt cheated at having to leave it behind. The urge to linger strained against her sense of self-preservation. Yet she, at least, understood her limits. She was the first to sprint back. For a few moments she felt that her lungs would burst. Her head was pounding and her cheeks ballooned by the time she collapsed at the edge of the summit and released her breath. She was still panting with her head hanging over the rim when the others joined her, gasping like fish out of water.

All agreed the sight was well worth the effort, except for Puddles. “Simple minds are easily amused,” he snorted, shaking his head.

None of them had the slightest idea of the terrible price they would pay for their curiosity.