Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

“Before you left The Realm that night, you said to me, ‘See you soon!’ And by the favor of our King, here we are.”

“Gwenne,” Aidan said. “I’ve had visions, dreams about you. You looked frightened. And Antoinette-your twin-I fear she is in trouble!”

“And so we both are,” Gwenne replied, “in very grave danger. I have been in your world for just a short time, but I have been constantly assailed by the enemy.”

“Here?” Aidan exclaimed.

“Yes, Aidan,” Gwenne replied. “Did you think that only servants of Alleble could travel to the Mirror Realm? I’ve come by what is called The Thread. It is the last remaining link between your world and mine, and the path the visions travel. But it is traveled by all Glimpse-kind, and within it I was waylaid by those not true to the King. Aidan, it is the way you will return to The Realm.”

Aidan was stunned. “I’m going back?”

“Yes. I was sent to tell you it is the King’s will that you return to The Realm. But I also bring warning: Be wary of all you meet-in this world and in mine. Not everyone is who they appear to be.”

Aidan frowned. He felt strangely like he did the first time he met Gwenne-like everything she said was a riddle.

“What task does the King have for me?”

“I do not know, Aidan,” she said. “But the King has told me you will return on The Thread, and that The Thread has grown unstable-stretched near to its breaking point. Traveling The Thread has become a dangerous journey.”

There came a sudden, alarming sound like the crackle of electricity, and a strange warm breeze blew from somewhere behind Gwenne. And as if a bright light was slowly losing power, Gwenne began to fade.

“Gwenne, what’s happening to you?” Aidan cried. He reached for her, touched her skin, and a shock went up his arm. He immediately jerked his hand back.

“I am being drawn back to The Thread!” Gwenne cried.

“What?” Aidan blurted out. The breeze vanished, and suddenly Gwenne was completely there again. Her hands were trembling.

“Aidan,” she whispered. “Take my hands.” Aidan reached for Gwenne. This time her skin did not shock him. She felt warm.

“Gwenne,” Aidan asked, “what was that?”

“The Thread,” she replied, glancing nervously over her shoulder as if something might be creeping up behind her. “I thought for a moment that the enemy had found me and was pulling me back. I do not understand how The Thread works, so I do not know how much longer I can remain.”

At that moment three things happened simultaneously: someone called Aidan from behind, the warm wind kicked up even stronger than before, and there was a loud snapping sound like a large branch had been broken.

Aidan felt a painful quiver in his hands. It began to burn. Gwenne’s pale skin dimmed and she began to fade. “Aidan!” she shouted. “You must let me go!”

Aidan felt as if he held a white-hot piece of iron, and all the muscles in his arms began to convulse. Still he held on. He felt if he let go, he would lose his friend forever.

“Aidan!” Gwenne’s voice echoed as if she were in another place. “Aidan, let go!”

There was a bright flash, a sound like thunder, and Aidan flew backward up into the air. He landed unconscious in the pool and sank like a stone.

“Aidan! Aidan!” He heard a female voice, but it was not Gwenne’s. Aidan opened his eyes, saw a blurry night sky and then a face.

“Mom?” Aidan whispered. He stared at her. She was soaking wet. Then Aidan realized he too was drenched. “Mom?”

“Oh, Aidan!” His mother hugged him. She began to sob, and her whole body shook. “I thought I lost you. You went under so fast.”

There was a warm hand suddenly on his shoulder. “When Mom pulled you out,” Aidan’s father said, “you weren’t breathing.”

Aidan sat up abruptly, and his mother slowly released him. He was in the grass about ten feet from the pool. But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember how he got there, or how he got wet for that matter.

“Who was that?” Mr. Thomas asked. And then, it all came flooding back. Gwenne… The Thread.

Aidan grabbed his mother’s shoulders. “Mom! Did you see her? Did you see Gwenne?!”

Mrs. Thomas shook her head and burst into fresh tears. “I don’t know what I saw, Aidan! I… it can’t be real.” Her voice became a choked whisper.

By the time Aidan got out of the warm shower and dressed, his father was already fast asleep. His mom was still awake, her back toward him, apparently reading. Aidan shimmied down into his bed once again. He looked across the room at his mom, and she turned away. But she hadn’t turned fast enough to keep Aidan from seeing she was reading The Story, and open in her lap was Grampin’s diary.

A idan and his father sat in the car outside the woods near Robby’s house.

“I should be getting to the office, Aidan,” said Mr. Thomas. “I called the Martins, and they said they’d be happy to have you come over if Robby doesn’t show, or… if something goes wrong.”

“The Martins?” Aidan objected. “My old babysitters? Dad, I don’t need a babysitter-”

“But you might need somewhere to go,” Mr. Thomas argued. “… Maybe I should just stay.”

“Dad, I’ll be all right. It’s just Robby.”

“I know, but what if his father shows up? If he’s directly in the service of Paragor like his Glimpse, Rucifel…”

“Then I’ll call you on the cell,” Aidan said as he grabbed his backpack and got out of the little orange car. He leaned in the window and smiled bravely at his father. “Besides, if Mr. Pierson showed up and got dangerous, I’d lose him on the trails. I know the woods around our fort like the back of my hand.”

“Son, I’m worried about you,” he said. “The more I’ve read of Grampin’s diary, the more I understand the evil we are up against. I don’t trust Robby’s father-not by a long shot. It’s too much of a coincidence that he shows up now. And if Robby’s Glimpse already serves Paragor, how can you be sure you can even trust Robby?”

“I can’t be sure,” Aidan said. “But I’m not alone.”

Aidan’s father had never seen his fourteen-year-old in this light before.

“Never alone,” Mr. Thomas said. Aidan smiled as he turned and walked away. “Never alone,” he repeated as he watched his son hike up the gravel road and disappear into the dark, whispering trees.

Aidan easily found the fort. He and Robby had built it between four towering pine trees in the heart of the woods. Assembled from an odd assortment of planks, two-by-fours, and sheets of plywood, the fort was as ugly as it could be, but to Aidan and Robby it had been Castle Courage, the home of truth, justice, bravery-and the largest assortment of comic books and hand-held video games known to mankind!

Aidan stood there for a few moments, letting the memories wash over him. Then he stepped over a few fallen trees, ducked under a low bough, and slid a small square of plywood away from the entrance. No sign of Robby. Aidan carefully laid his backpack on the fort floor and then walked around to the backside. There a shaky ladder stood, leading to the roof of the fort. Aidan climbed to the roof and tested his weight on the old boards. They held. It’s ugly, but it’s strong.

He brushed away some leaves, stretched out on his back, and stared at the treetops. Aidan watched a single leaf sail on a breeze and then spiral down. He began to feel drowsy.

“You fall asleep, Aidan?” Robby asked as he climbed onto the fort’s roof.

Startled, Aidan sat bolt upright. “Yeah,” Aidan said. “I wasn’t sure if you would make it. How’d you get away from your dad?”