Crystal Doors #1 by Kevin J. Anderson, Rebecca Moesta Page B
Authors: Kevin J. Anderson, Rebecca Moesta
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sun-washed docks. Lyssandra explained, “Each vessel arrives through a specific crystal door far out in the ocean, sailing from their world to this central hub.”
“In other words, Elantya is like Grand Central Station,” Gwen mused. “People come from far away and everybody meets here.”
“Each crystal door requires a Key,” Lyssandra said.
“Huh. My dad said he needed a key when he was arranging the crystals.” Vic held up his keychain. “I tried to offer him this one, but —”
“A Key is a
person”
Sharif interrupted, as if they should already have known that.
Lyssandra said calmly, “A Key is tuned to a particular crystal door. Every ship carries at least one Key, so the captains can go back and forth on their regular route.” She pointed out many people who wore garments, ribbons, or armbands bearing a symbol to indicate they were Keys.
Piri’s crystal sphere flashed in the sunlight. Sharif inspected it for smudges before balancing it on the backs of his fingers and deftly rolling it back and forth. “I have been tested, and I have the potential to become a Key myself.”
Gwen didn’t ask the million questions that sprang to mind. Her brain was already so full of new sights and ideas that she was afraid she wouldn’t have room to absorb one more fact.
Fortunately, Lyssandra took the opportunity to ask Vic and Gwen about themselves. When she learned that Vic and Gwen were “twin” cousins, the telepathic girl caught her breath. “A few nights ago, I had a dream about one of the ancient prophecies. It tells of champions who will rise up to defeat the dark tyrants and free the sealed worlds. It is strange how you almost fit the old legends.” She sang a haunting tune:
“Born beneath the selfsame moon,
Only they may bind the rune,
And create the Ring of Might,
Right the wrongs, reverse the rite.
Sharing blood, yet not the womb,
Two shall seal the tyrant’s doom.
Darkest Sage, in darkest day,
With his blood the price shall pay.”
“That’s, uh, strange all right,” Vic admitted, “… whatever it means.”
Gwen shaded her eyes and spotted another ship approaching Elantya’s main harbor. All the sails were stretched tight, as if to squeeze out every last bit of push from the wind. It came in more swiftly than the breezes could possibly be pushing it, as if some magic had given it a burst of speed. Red banners flapped from the masts, and a bright flag flew from the tallest point. She wished she had some binoculars. “That ship certainly is in a hurry.”
A flash of light and a plume of bright purple smoke shot into the air from the main deck of the racing ship, followed a few seconds later by the distance-muffled
thump
of an explosion. Everyone on the docks began to scramble to mount a response.
Sharif said, “Ships fly those banners only in the direst emergency.”
Lyssandra motioned for them to follow her as she broke into a run. “The captain is sounding an alarm!”
10
ELANTYAN WAR GALLEYS SPROUTED oars as soldiers dipped long wooden blades into the water. A bell rang from a high tower, and dock workers hurried to prepare a slip where the captain could tie up at the main dock. Other ships dropped their sails and raised anchor, ready to respond to the news, whatever it might be.
Gwen and Vic crowded with Lyssandra and Sharif on the edge of the dock, listening to the dip of oars in the water, the rhythmic chanting of the soldiers as they drove their war galley across the harbor. Even in a frantic rush, though, sailing ships moved at a sedate pace compared to racing ambulances and police cars. They watched the intricate slow-motion drama as the galleys approached the larger vessel, tied up alongside it, and added the power of their oars to escort the ship to the Elantyan docks. Sages in colorful robes climbedaboard the sailing ship and stood at the bow, reading from spell scrolls to add momentum. The red alarm pennants fluttered in the breeze. More purple smoke rose
“In other words, Elantya is like Grand Central Station,” Gwen mused. “People come from far away and everybody meets here.”
“Each crystal door requires a Key,” Lyssandra said.
“Huh. My dad said he needed a key when he was arranging the crystals.” Vic held up his keychain. “I tried to offer him this one, but —”
“A Key is a
person”
Sharif interrupted, as if they should already have known that.
Lyssandra said calmly, “A Key is tuned to a particular crystal door. Every ship carries at least one Key, so the captains can go back and forth on their regular route.” She pointed out many people who wore garments, ribbons, or armbands bearing a symbol to indicate they were Keys.
Piri’s crystal sphere flashed in the sunlight. Sharif inspected it for smudges before balancing it on the backs of his fingers and deftly rolling it back and forth. “I have been tested, and I have the potential to become a Key myself.”
Gwen didn’t ask the million questions that sprang to mind. Her brain was already so full of new sights and ideas that she was afraid she wouldn’t have room to absorb one more fact.
Fortunately, Lyssandra took the opportunity to ask Vic and Gwen about themselves. When she learned that Vic and Gwen were “twin” cousins, the telepathic girl caught her breath. “A few nights ago, I had a dream about one of the ancient prophecies. It tells of champions who will rise up to defeat the dark tyrants and free the sealed worlds. It is strange how you almost fit the old legends.” She sang a haunting tune:
“Born beneath the selfsame moon,
Only they may bind the rune,
And create the Ring of Might,
Right the wrongs, reverse the rite.
Sharing blood, yet not the womb,
Two shall seal the tyrant’s doom.
Darkest Sage, in darkest day,
With his blood the price shall pay.”
“That’s, uh, strange all right,” Vic admitted, “… whatever it means.”
Gwen shaded her eyes and spotted another ship approaching Elantya’s main harbor. All the sails were stretched tight, as if to squeeze out every last bit of push from the wind. It came in more swiftly than the breezes could possibly be pushing it, as if some magic had given it a burst of speed. Red banners flapped from the masts, and a bright flag flew from the tallest point. She wished she had some binoculars. “That ship certainly is in a hurry.”
A flash of light and a plume of bright purple smoke shot into the air from the main deck of the racing ship, followed a few seconds later by the distance-muffled
thump
of an explosion. Everyone on the docks began to scramble to mount a response.
Sharif said, “Ships fly those banners only in the direst emergency.”
Lyssandra motioned for them to follow her as she broke into a run. “The captain is sounding an alarm!”
10
ELANTYAN WAR GALLEYS SPROUTED oars as soldiers dipped long wooden blades into the water. A bell rang from a high tower, and dock workers hurried to prepare a slip where the captain could tie up at the main dock. Other ships dropped their sails and raised anchor, ready to respond to the news, whatever it might be.
Gwen and Vic crowded with Lyssandra and Sharif on the edge of the dock, listening to the dip of oars in the water, the rhythmic chanting of the soldiers as they drove their war galley across the harbor. Even in a frantic rush, though, sailing ships moved at a sedate pace compared to racing ambulances and police cars. They watched the intricate slow-motion drama as the galleys approached the larger vessel, tied up alongside it, and added the power of their oars to escort the ship to the Elantyan docks. Sages in colorful robes climbedaboard the sailing ship and stood at the bow, reading from spell scrolls to add momentum. The red alarm pennants fluttered in the breeze. More purple smoke rose
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