Chapter 10

10.
         The crisp air hit his face first and Tristian blinked in surprise. It always took a few seconds for the world to reel back into focus and all the teleporting around was really starting to affect his stomach. The Agents told him it was better than walking, or flying for that matter, but something about it just didn't sit well with him.
         Thinking of the Agents made him think of the other, missing Agent. He wondered what happened to him, what could be strong enough to steel him away. He had some ideas but didn't think any of them could be here. This land felt pristine, untouched by all the things that had sent him running at home. Even with all the death he had encountered so far, it felt different here. It was just another obstacle to be overcome, while at home he would have seen it as part of some neverending battle, endless and infinite, drifting on from one conflict to the next without resolution. That was a feeling he had hated. Part of him didn't feel that here. There was wonder here. And there just might still be hope.
         Johan's audible gasp thrust his attention back to the present. His vision by this point had become clear enough that he could see around. All he saw were clouds and blue sky. His traced his vision more to his right and a gigantic castle came into view. It was made from grey stone and looked like something straight out of his history books. Battlements bristled at the usual angles, the entire thing sat block like and airy, from sweeping arch to sweeping arch, right on a hill that raised itself from the ground. He squinted at moving dots and thought he saw small figures moving around on the walkways on top.
         But a glance at Johan saw that he wasn't looking at the castle. No doubt he had seen castles before, in a world like this they were probably quite commonplace. Maybe not as large or imposing perhaps, but the Agent had said cryptically that they were going to see the king. Only fit for the king to have a castle fit for himself. No, it wasn't the architecture that Johan was marveling at, it was the ground. The ground they had come from. Thirty thousand feet down.
         Johan was standing on the edge of what appeared to be what early cartographers had envisioned when they thought the world was flat. The land just ended, as if a giant had used his sword to cleave the land right off and then pick it up and launch it into space. Tristian walked over to Johan and in the effort of moving he dislodged a rock. It tumbled near the edge and rolled off, twisting and twirling on its way down. Tristian lost sight of it once it hit a passing cloud.
         Slowly, Johan turned around to face Tristian, seeming to register the castle for the first time but too numb by now to even feel more amazement. His mouth didn't seem to move in time with his words as he said, "I never thought it existed."
         "Alas, it does," Agent One said from a short distance away. His hands were in the apparently endless pockets of his robe and the brisk air made it flap gently. His hair barely seemed to move. "But we won't worry about it now, will we?" He inclined his hard sharply toward the castle, starting to move. "Come on now, time is slipping as we speak."
         He started to stride away rapidly, along a well grooved path. Footprints were embedded in it, but none seemed new. They kicked up small clouds of dust as they walked. Agent One was moving swiftly and was soon out of sight.
         Tristian and Johan hurried along behind them. Johan seemed shell shocked by the new developments, seeking to articulate what he was feeling and finding himself not able to even grasp at the words.
         "It's real, Tristian," Johan almost whispered, his voice weak enough to be swept away on the wind. "You can't imagine what I'm feeling. It's real."
         "Are we really floating on the air," Tristian asked, not liking the idea of the only thing keeping several hundred tons of rock and stone and grass from plumneting to the earth was several thousand feet of pure air.
         "The magicians here are among the most powerful ever," Johan breathed. They were growing closer to the castle now, the path following many twists and turns, hugging the contours of the hill. "It's their power that keeps the land in the air. From here the king keeps his counsel and rules over us. From here you can see everything." As they topped a rise the clouds seemed to part and they got a view of the land below them. It was breathtaking, the colors blending, the land shifting and bending fluidly.
         "It all looks different here," he said softly. "It just does."
         Tristian tore his glance away from the distant ground, still not enjoying the fact that they were so high up. It was like being back in Legoflas, only there the platforms were held in place by nice solid pillars. Here there was nothing. "So you knew there was a king but you didn't know about this place?"
         "Oh, we paid our taxes to the king, we knew we had one but we just . . . we never believed . . ." his voice echoed of feelings long forgotten. "Mari always . . ." a brief smile, tinted with saddness, "she always said that it was up there somewhere. She'd joke with me, point at some star in the sky at night and say that was it. That if I just stared hard enough I'd see it." He let out a deep breath. "And here I am. By myself. I wish she could have seen this."
         Tristian stared at him sadly, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to reach out to the man, let him know that he wasn't alone but didn't know where to begin. The conditioning had taught him a million things, languages, customs, defenses, everything he used to live by. But it never said how to deal with human emotions, base feelings. There was no way to make the connection.
         In silence they rounded the last bend. The castle itself now blotted out the sky. A towering gate loomed ahead of them. Beyond they could see the courtyard, with people dressed for various functions dashing back and forth. Beyond was the immense keep. The Agent was at the gate, standing there still with his hands in his robe, talking to two guards. They kept shaking their heads.
         "Uh-oh," Tristian murmured, quickening his pace.
         As he reached the Agent, he caught the end of something the guards were saying.
         ". . . not sure how you got here but we're afraid you can't go in . . ."
         "I see," Agent One was saying. As Tristian and Johan nearly ran up to him, he glanced at them and said, "Oh, hullo, gentlemen. Nice of you to join me."
         "We have to get in to see the king," Tristian said, figuring that the direct approach was the best way.
         "The king is not accepting visitors. In fact, the castle is closed off," the other guard said. His eyes glittered from underneath his helmet. He was holding what appeared to be a polearm, though a sword was also sheathed at his belt. The weapon he was holding gleamed in the ample sunlight. "We're afraid you're going to have come back the way you came."
         "And I'm afraid that the next few minutes are going to be mostly unpleasant for you," Agent One said quite seriously. "But before we resort to different measures, I want you to take a good look at me. Tell me that you do not know me, know who I am. What I represent."
         Both guards gave each other strange glances, then both shook their heads. "Sorry, pal," one said, still blocking the way. "But whatever you're planning, it's not going to work."
         "I haven't done anything yet," Agent One replied calmly.
         "Well I think you should leave before you do-"
         And then he was gone. In his place there was red motes of light spinning around, like unsettled dust.
         "Where did he go?" the other guard shouted, lowering his weapon so the point was facing the Agent's stomach. Agent One stared at it like it was made of foam. "Bring him back! Now, or I'll kill you!"
         "Do you finally see what I am?" Agent One remarked coldly. "You people are all the same, I come back to aid you and yet you meet me with nothing more than ignorance and weapons." He sounded completely disgusted.
         "Where did he go?" the guard sounded totally hysterical now. He was jabbing forward with the weapon, trying to prod the Agent into doing his bidding.
         "This," referring to the weapon, Agent One ran his hand through the point, "is nothing. It has no power, except that it gives you the power to think that you have power." He ran his hand back and clenched his fist, jerking his arm back harder, snagging the weapon away from the astonished guard. "You have nothing other than yourself. When you start placing power in other things, then it diminishes you."
         He was holding the weapon in both hands now, one hand on each end. "And against me that'll do you no good. You see my friend," and he slid his hand along the shaft of the polearm, and where his hand touched the entire weapon burst into crimson flame, "I am power." Still holding the burning weapon, the angular light lit his face up, throwing his features into contrast. Seeing him, Tristian realized how much they didn't look alike.
         And then the weapon was extinguished. Like nothing had happened. Another second, and there was a flicker of red. The guard who had been standing there before was back now, and his face was awestriken.
         "Where were you?" his companion asked him frantically. He glanced at the Agent. "Where did you send him?"
         "The world, my friend," the guard said, his voice faint, "I saw the world. Everywhere." He seemed to shake himself physically. "He is who he says he is. We have to let him in."
         "But if he is, then the king-"
         "To hell with the king." The man nearly shouted it, not seeming to care who heard his nearly treasonous words. "This man serves something higher, that even the king must bow to."
         "But-"
         "Let me make this easy for you gentlemen," Agent One stated, his voice cutting through the murk of conversation. "As of this moment me and my two companions are going to walk past you into the castle. I will not stop walking until I reach the king. Anyone who steps in my way or tries to stop me will be sent to the farthest mountain range and have to find their way back on their own." He stopped and glared down at the two men, who seemed to be trembling visibly. "You can either go ahead and tell everyone that I am coming, or try and stop me again. Or do nothing. The choice is yours. But I'm going through." He smiled blandly. "It's been a real pleasure."
         And then he strode right through them, his body flickering as he passed right through them. Tristian hesitated a moment and then started walking as well, beckoning for Johan to follow him. This time the guards stepped out of the way.
         Tristian caught up to the Agent, who didn't break his stride at all. "You could have teleported us right into the throne room, you know."
         "Except there are ways and then there are ways of doing things," Agent One replied, his lips barely moving. People stopped and stared at them as they strode through the courtyard but nobody went to stop them. "I'm sure someone was watching that little display out there. They'll tell his Majesty and if they describe it right, mind you that I always wind up being five feet taller and breathing fire, often with horns, then he'll know I'm back, there won't be any surprises and we can get down to business."
         "You make it sound so simple," Tristian remarked somewhat dryly.
         "Years of experience, I'm afraid. That's what it does to you."
         They were now at the entrance to the block like keep. Johan was following silently behind, probably figuring that the near nightmare his life had become was going to end any second and he'd be awake again. The grim stone framed a huge wooden door, no doubt fortified. Guards lined each side, but none of them moved as the Agent approached.
         "They're listening. Good," he muttered to himself. A gesture from his hands, a flicker of red around his eyes and the doors groaned open. The keep opened up before them, corridors and rooms obviously branching off to either side. But the Agent kept walking resolutely forward, his eyes never wandering to the wondrous architecture around them. Tristian marveled at it. It was easy to believe that it had taken magic itself to create this place. It seemed to glow with the promise of wonder.
         After walking farther they reached an ornate metal doors. Intricate designs of flowers wrapped around it, ending in a rose that met right in the center, split in two by the seam of the door. A man in vibrant violent robes stood there. His hair was black and his face set. His arms were crossed.
         Agent One walked up to him and said, "You know why I'm here."
         "Indeed," the man replied and there was no hint of friendliness there at all. His eyes were dark as well and sunk into his head. "Your appearance has changed, I see."
         "It happens. But we're not here to talk about your envy of me," Agent One continued smoothly. "I need to see the royals. We can do this the official way or we can do this my way. My way is faster but you won't like it as much, since it entails you waking up next week on a boat and not being sure how you got there." He crossed his arms and smiled humorlessly. "Your call."
         The man sighed heavily. "The old tales gloss over your . . . stubborness." He paused for a moment before saying evenly, "Your meddling is something we could do without, though."
         Agent One stared the man right in the face. "If I actually believed that, I'd have been long gone centuries ago. But I don't and so I'm here and so are you and neither of us like it very much. So why don't we get it over with so we can both stop bothering each other, hm?"
         The other man actually cracked a smile at that point. "Very well, sir. But you know how to make this old castellan's job interesting, that's for sure."
         With a wave of his hand, violent flickered around the rose and with barely a noise, the doors swung open.
         The man swept past the Agent, standing just inside the door.
         "Sire, the Magent has arrived, and his two companions!" went his shout and seemed to echo in the cavernous throne room.
         Tristian, standing behind the Agent, whispered, "Magent?"
         Agent One replied without turning around. "As long as I know they're talking to me, I don't care what the hell they call me."
         And for some reason, Johan started laughing at that, a brittle, broken sound.
         Agent One and Tristian glanced worringly at each other and then silently and as a group everyone stepped past and in.