Under the Edge & Over Land
Underland and the Forehidden Kingdom, Chapter 17
Underland and the Forehidden Kingdom is a serialised, young adult, fantasy novel about an overconfident bookworm who finds himself in a parallel world where words are weapons, ideologies form fortresses, and intelligence without integrity may just cost you everything. If you’re new here, you can start from the beginning or check out the index.
RECAP: Keon finds himself at odds with Shem when he discovers that Keon stole from his Codex. Zahara isn’t thrilled to have the Moonlamp, Asya, along for the ride. But the Millionth and Fifth are free; now they just need a way of escape.
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Aslan hadn’t bothered to brief his father. It wouldn’t matter what he said, he’d still find a way to blame him anyway. Why give him the satisfaction of embarrassing him in public? Fully armoured in his fatigues, the only glimpse he caught of the Rayiys was as he left the palace. He was looking down on him from atop the stairs, his knuckles white from gripping the golden banister.
Aslan walked with a limp as his feet crunched the broken shards of glass littering the main hall. His attendant had done everything he could to salve his wounds, yet still they stung. It’d be fine by morning, he was sure.
Eight of his best awaited him on the lawn. Brothers from birth. At his approach, they raised their arms and slapped the left sides of their chests in salute. He returned the gesture.
“They can’t have gone far,” he called. “They’ll be looking for a way out. Two of them are stricken, so they’ll be slow. They’ll want the clearest, shortest path out the palace and that’s how we’ll head them off. Ayaz! What’s the status of the Marble Mynds?”
“Our forces are down by two-thirds. We lost seven in the forest, another nine when the wall blew. We’ve sent for reserves from the Golden Gate.”
“Take what’s left and split them between you and Murat. Kadir and Emin, you go with him and cover the Southern Wall. Murat, take Deniz and Taner; use the Mynds you have and seal the breach. Ruslan, Baris; you’re with me.”
Keon was working furiously to untie one of the ropes binding the boats. They’d tossed around the idea of taking three boats and burning the other two—but that was probably the quickest way to get caught. The new plan was to set them all loose so no one could follow them. Well, so no one could follow them that way. Apparently Moonlamps flew.
As he unlooped a knot, he looked over at Zahara who was one boat down. She didn’t so much as give him a glance. She was acting weird, and right after she’d flung herself at him in front of everyone back at the barracks. Yeah, she’d tried to style it out, but he knew what was up. At least, he thought he did. He hoped he did.
Why was she being off key with him? What had he done? And then there was Shem. To think Avana had actually come to his defence. Sort of. Keon wouldn’t have trusted some guy he barely knew with his thoughts, so technically it was his fault.
He chanced a glance at Shem, then realised he’d been scowling at him the entire time. He wasn’t even looking at the rope he was untying. It was like his fingertips had eyes.
Keon tried looking for refuge in Dawit, but Avana had made him sit down and catch his breath. His body was still fighting off whatever this ‘stricken’ thing was and he’d started to overexert himself. That’s when Jonas caught his eye, or Jonas’ eye caught Keon’s. He bowed a gentle nod, pointed at him and did an ‘ok’ hand gesture.
“You ok?”
Keon shrugged. He thought he saw Jonas’ shoulders sag slightly as though burdened. This was, literally, the most they’d directly communicated—but he had the oddest sense that this guy had his back no matter what. God only knew what he’d done to earn such loyalty.
His other concern was Asya. She was busying herself with the boats, but he could see she was having a hard time of it. Maybe he was naïve for trusting her, but he had a feeling she meant well. They wouldn’t have gotten this far without her. Sure, it could all be a ruse and he hoped it wasn’t, but she wouldn’t have put herself at risk for nothing!
Someone was tapping. No. Kai was pacing again; hobbling with his hands wringing through that wild explosion he called a haircut.
“Flip sake. Flip sake. Flip sake.”
Shem, at wits end, dashed the loosened ropes.
“Are you gonna shut up an’ ‘elp us anytime soon, mate?”
“I should’ve just stayed home. This is so long...”
“We would’ve been worse off without you,” offered Avana.
“Don’t gas! You said it yourself. It’s useless me being here.”
“I did not! I said you were lazy!”
“What’s the difference?!”
“You don’t despise the lazy because he’s useless. You despise him because you know he can do better.”
He stopped pacing, and for a moment it seemed as though she might have gotten through to him. Then he shook it off, went back to pacing, and Avana rolled her eyes.
Suddenly, he drew to a stop again.
“Wait, what’re we doing?”
“Oh, give it a rest, mate,” sighed Shem.
“No, seriously. What are we doing using boats when we can glide down?”
“Oh no, not this again,” said Keon.
Kai turned to Asya.
“How high’s the drop?”
“Uh…”
“Forget it. Guys, listen. Number one, it’s safer then riding canoes off a cliff. Two, they won’t realise we’re gone ‘cause they won’t be missing any boats. And three, we’ll cover a lot more ground a lot quicker and can make the rest of our way on foot.”
His eyes ping-ponged between them, anticipating a response.
He turned again to Asya.
“I’m assuming Meshech’s on the other side, right?”
“Meshech?”
“Anatolia.”
She nodded.
“Anatolia?” said Keon. “Ain’t that Turkey?”
Kai flapped a shrug at Keon.
“Yes bro, keep up.”
Keon leaned forward.
“Wait. You’re saying we’re in Turkey?”
“Sort of,” said Shem.
“Sort of?”
“Look at it this way,” said Kai, spreading an invisible map with his hands, “Everywhere in Underland maps onto somewhere on Earth. They’re equivalents. So, places here correspond to places there, and what happens here affects what happens there.”
Keon rose to his feet and started pacing, his eyes flicking through his thoughts like fingers through a Codex.
“Great,” said Zahara, “Now you’ve got him doing it.”
He knew there was something familiar about that place. The river near the forest where he entered Underland; where he was attacked by the Mynds. It was just like the route he’d take if he jumped out his bedroom window and made his way to the park. Past Miss Gaviscon and Captain Antibiotic. Over the rickety bridge. The rickety bridge that crossed the river. It was the same river, he was sure of it. Which meant—
“What? Why’re you doing that?” said Kai.
Keon stopped.
“I think I know where my dad is...”
Aslan stood on the grass looking up at the open window. The Torchbearer’s open window. Asya had been there. Had he bewitched her somehow? Fed her some Torchbearer lies? No. That couldn’t be it. This guy didn’t know anything. He didn’t even know about the Perfect Mirror.
The Perfect Mirror.
Was that it?
She was always way too interested in Torchbearers. Always cosying up to the soldiers and asking them questions. She’d even come to him a couple of weeks ago, all concerned about his behaviour and the way he’d been using his Mirror.
“What if you’re wrong?” she’d said. “What if you’re not as in control as you think?”
The gold-lined coffee table had shattered when he’d flown across the room and grabbed her by the wrist.
“Do I look like someone who’s not in control?” he’d said, grey eyes boring holes into her skull.
He hadn’t let go of her wrist until she’d opened her mouth in a silent cry. Her hand had fallen like dead weight into her other palm and he’d blinked back to himself. He didn’t see her for six days after that. Not until he went to apologise.
His eyes followed the thin ledge outside the window, imagining their crouched forms inching along the wall, all the way to the edge.
“Aslan! I found him.”
Ruslan approached, accompanied by a tall, bronze skinned Masabih; his thick beard tickling his chest.
“Hamza. You were posted here?”
He nodded.
“Me and Selim.”
“What did you see?”
“Sister Asya out on the ledge. There was a boy with her, climbing out of the window. That’s when the alarm bell sounded.”
She’d been leading him; helping him escape.
“Did you see where they went?”
“No, but I can guess.”
Aslan’s eyes narrowed.
“How?”
“This isn’t the first time we’ve caught her sneaking out the palace, Kaptan.”
Aslan’s feet battered the grass, Ruslan and Baris trailing behind him. He turned and beelined for the eastern wall, waving his comrades as he went.
“RIVER GATE! THEY’RE BY THE RIVER GATE!”
The tolling of the bell rippled across the grounds, ricocheting off the walls of the wooden dock. Everyone froze like cats caught in the kitchen, halfway up the steps of the bridge. A mass of Moonlamps were converging on them from every side. Up both banks of the river. Racing across the top of the walls. Bounding over the gardens.
“Bloody hell,” said Shem. “GO! GO!”
Arrows whistled through the air, forcing them to duck and dive up the steps. As Keon passed, Shem grabbed him by the arm and stuffed something in his palm. An origami glider.
“Remember, flick to expand it. Only when you reach the top!”
Keon paused, a sheepish smile arching the corner of his mouth. Shem rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright. Move!”
He likewise slapped a paper glider in Asya’s hand.
“Don’t make me regret this, yeah?”
She nodded and sprinted up the steps.
Avana, Dawit and Kai had already gone over. Jonas was at the top, spurring them on with one arm and parrying arrows with the other. Zahara stood across, relaying his instructions as each person went over the wall.
“Keep left of the river. If your glider gets stuck in the trees, let go. Start running as soon as you hit the ground!” she said.
She lingered on Keon.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
Glancing back at Asya, he turned, flicked the glider to full size and jumped over the edge of the wall.
The wind immediately clawed at his shawl as he tore through the air. It was harsh and cold against his skin, ripping the moisture from his eyeballs. The sky shone overhead like a diamond encrusted lavender tapestry. He blinked, trying to orientate himself and keep sight of the river. The forest below was thick and dark, obscuring its twists and turns. There it was! Winding through the boughs like a silvery serpent. He glanced back. Asya was close behind, a few metres out to his right. Turning to the other side, he caught sight of Zahara. But no Shem. No Jonas.
“Where are they?!” he bellowed, but the wind swallowed his words.
His fist clenched over the handles as the forest grew closer, the anxiety of his last glider trip fresh in his mind. Was his ankle twinging from muscle memory or because the injury was still fresh?
He was drifting too far to the right! He banked left then levelled out. The trees were coming fast now. How on earth would he get through without snagging the glider? He shouldn’t have closed his eyes, but he did. He felt the leaves rush past his ankles, the branches rake his legs. Then he jolted to a stop, swung briefly from the momentum and dropped.
Aslan slowed to a stroll as the last Torchbearer vanished over the edge of the wall. For a moment, he stood staring at the spot where the masked one had been standing; right by the keyhole to the Eastern Gate. He hadn’t seen Asya, but no doubt she was with them. His tongue caught in his throat at the thought, forcing a hard swallow. She’d left him. She’d left him alone with him.
Flicking the latches on his chest, he let his Kodeks drop, ripped out the stylus and wrote. He tore the page without looking and rolled it into a thin, pointed cone that he stabbed into the ground.
“Hear me Almuluk,” he whispered.
Gradually the paper began to crinkle as it was pulled into the ground. Ruslan and Baris joined him, Murat, Ayaz and their troops not far behind.
“The wall?” said Aslan without turning.
“Under repair as we speak,” said Murat.
“Should we inform the Rayiys?” asked Ayaz.
“There’s no time. She’s leading them across the strait. We’ll lose them without the light.”
“She?”
“Asya’s betrayed us. She’s with the Hainlerin.”
He tore another page from his Kodeks, holding it out in his palm.
“May Almuluk lend us his chariots.”
He slammed the paper sheet flat on the ground. It rippled and burst outwards, unrolling like a carpet beneath his hands and feet. The rippling didn’t cease, but rather gathered steam, winds blowing beneath it. The howl of rushing torrents grew louder as the paper carpet began to lift. Up and up it rose, carrying Aslan into the skies where he was joined by his eight comrades. They assembled in an arrowhead formation, aimed with deadly precision at the gate. The blasts of air tore at the grass, mingling with dirt and dust.
“For Almuluk!”
“FOR ALMULUK!”
The Moonslamps leaned forward, pressed down with their palms, and the paper carpets shot off in a thunderous blast. They angled back, swiftly gathered altitude and soared over the eastern wall.
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