When the Gates of Yerr, the outer city that surrounds the kingdom of Ghadel, poked up along the edge of the road, I became sure we would be turned away as we had been so many times before.
“Built as a means to filter out those unworthy or unclean souls, Yerr’s magic rested within its indestructible wood used for the gate’s posts and beams,” Marren explained. His words coming out like the rehearsal of a story he’d once memorized. His voice was solemn and weary.
Small green stems of ivy grew like tangled fingers, weaving in between the beams that formed the two sides of the gate. Either side was attached to a large stone wall. Too high to scale, even if I could make use of the vines that grew along its side. There was a clearing about the span of my arms between the woods and the wall. It seemed as though it was made to be a barrier. Beyond the wall, the towering city of Ghadel reached high into the sky, a symbol of how high the king held himself and how below him the rest of the world was.
A limestone road wound up in a constant spiral toward the center. Inside the castle’s walls, it has been said to house a large courtyard garden with the most precious of fruits, flowers, and trees. The opposite of the abyss—an oasis of sorts. And when the sun hits it right, the stone sparkles in a golden effervescence. A brilliance that matches the sun’s.
In all my life, I have never been this far to see the castle’s walls, much less the Gates of Yerr. Under different circumstances, I would have found this place captivating and simply breathtaking. Given our current circumstance, I wouldn’t get the chance to see beyond these walls and get closer to the castle. Not with our streak of luck.
“What if the races were forced to return to the immortal realm?” I asked.
Marren shook his head as he gripped two bars of the gate and rattled them to check their hold. “I would have received word of their return. And it doesn’t seem likely.”
“We haven’t received word of them or seen them otherwise.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re not here.”
I gazed at him quizzically.
He sighed and twisted to face me. “Ghadel is known to house many of the races both known and unknown to humans. It’s likely that they went into hiding here or in other cities that hold citadels.” He gestured to the towering castle above. “Either way, we are bound to gain some allies here. And this is the best way to gather a group to help search for our daughter.”
I expelled a large breath of air as if it would lessen the weight on my shoulders and leaned up against the wall with Marren standing in front of the gates. I jumped when he yelled, “Gatekeeper!”
I removed myself from the wall, taking my place behind Marren. I watched as a tiny man, too skinny to be considered a dwarf, approached the gate. As he got closer, I knew there could be only two things that could explain his stature. Either he was half-dwarf or he didn’t like eating nearly as much as every other one I knew. He eyed us suspiciously.
“What be y’er business in Yerr, the Guardian City?” His voice was raspy and worn with age, though he didn’t appear older than thirty or so.
“Our daughter was taken from us. The man we believe is behind her disappearance has ties to this city. We believe she could be here.”
“Not possible. No one gets through these gates without my say so, and no one has passed through in three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” I asked not bothering to hide my desperation.
“Aye,” replied the small man. “Remove the hoods.”
Both Marren and I stiffened and hesitated long enough for the man to stare at us and squint like he could see through the shadows.
“I said remove the hoods.”
With a sigh, I removed my hood and stared into the short man’s eyes. The color I knew he searched for would surely prevent our passing through. Marren slowly removed his hood as well. The man didn’t seem at all surprised by our appearance. Maybe he was dwarf after all? Could this be a sign in our favor?
With a sigh, the man wobbled over to a small wooden stool and took a seat. He pulled out a pipe from a leather pouch at his side and struck a match to light it. He puffed a few times and crossed his legs, resting his hand, pipe and all, over his bent knee.
We stood, waiting patiently for him to say something or do something other than stare at us.
Marren…
Just wait.
But we are running out of time!
Patience, please. I want to find our girl, too.
As if he could listen to our internal conversation he inhaled another puff of his pipe, exhaled it in a dramatic heave, and then said, “No.”
“No?” Marren asked.
“No,” the little man replied.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because, I can lose my head over this. Speaking to you may cost me my life.”
“But no one has to know! We won’t tell anyone. I promise! Please let us through. Please let us find our daughter!” Tears started to fill my eyes, forcing my vision to blur and the short man to become a blob of mixed color rather than a solid figure.