Realm Keepers 01 - Realm Keepers

us along as we struggled to keep up with them and Greystone. All of us must have looked terrified. I know Miles did. He leaned over to speak with me.
    “Sarah, this is some serious stuff,” he said quietly.
    “I know,” I told him. “We’ll be fine. Greystone is taking care of us.”
    “The crazy old man we met ten minutes ago?” Raven interjected.
    “The one who can make fireballs,” I told her.
    “Don’t worry about it,” said Calvin. “He’s wearing grey. Grey wizards are always good guys. Everyone knows that.” He eyed the rest of us as we stared at him. “Well, every one of my people.”
    “What do you mean—” Miles began.
    “What are we doing?” asked Raven, interrupting him.
    I looked up. Greystone had changed course, and the soldiers were following. They were headed toward an isolated group of humans and creatures that were fighting in the middle of the plain. The skirmish was separate from the main battle, but still there must have been hundreds of hacking, slashing, screaming bodies right in front of us.
    But looking above the fight, I finally saw our destination. A blue, whirling portal floated just above the grass on a hill on the other side of the fighting. We’d have to pass through the soldiers and the shadow creatures to reach it.
    Cara turned to us. Under her helmet, her eyes were stern and uncompromising. “Stay within our ranks!” she shouted. “Do not touch the Shadows!”
    I nodded. My eyes probably looked like saucers. I definitely wasn’t going to be trying to touch any of those creepy things.
    Then we reached the fighting and became surrounded by a whirling, churning mass of armor and blades. It felt like being in the eye of a tornado, skirting all around us but never reaching us with its winds to pluck us up and fling us into the sky. Cara fought like a crazy person but always fully in control, wreaking havoc with her blade and smashing heads with her shield. But to our sides and rear I saw soldiers fall to the ground. When they went down they were overwhelmed by creatures, and they never came back up. I gulped and turned my gaze forward once again.
    Suddenly there was a shout to our rear, and I felt a cold hand grasp my shoulder. I spun to see one of the creatures had broken through and was practically leaning on soldiers to either side, and one of its clawed hands was thrust forward to grip my shoulder. The instant it touched me I felt a sharp sting settle into my skin, and I cried out in fear and pain.
    From nowhere, a bare fist smashed into the creature’s face, and its entire head erupted in a ball of flame. The hand clutching me spasmed once and then released its grip.
    Blade fell to the ground, screaming and clutching his hand. Smoke rose from it like a hot frying pan dipped in cool sink water. One of the soldiers reached out and shoved Blade back to his feet and into line, although not harshly.
    Cara turned back to us again. “I told you not to touch them,” she said.
    Blade glared at her, still holding his hand and breathing in and out rapidly through his teeth. I looked at his hand. The knuckles were black, and cracked. At first I thought it looked like a burn, but then I realized that was only because I’d seen the steam. Now that I had a moment to see, it looked more like frostbite—like the skin and the flesh beneath had died in an instant.
    “Thank you,” I said gratefully.
    Blade looked at me and shrugged. “Yeah,” was all he said.
    The soldiers continued to press onward, and we were still caught in their momentum. It looked as though we’d almost reached the humans fighting on the other side of the creatures, when I heard the bellow of a war horn rip out across the land. It was so loud that it made the soldiers stop walking, and around us there was a brief lull as the fighting ceased.
    I turned to look in the direction of the blast. There, high on a hill in the center of the army of black creatures, stood a man. A normal-looking man, I realized. He wasn’t one of the creatures. But from the way the horde moved around him, the way they cowered from his outstretched hand, I could tell he was in command of them. He was massive. He wore no shirt, and every inch of his bronze skin bulged with taut muscles. Long white hair ran down to his shoulders, though he didn’t look like he could be over thirty.
    Beside him another man lowered the horn he’d just blown the blast from. This man was smaller, thinner, more weaselly. He glowered at us with