Either way, I finally discovered why the Wall Men are so ripped. It took Tiago over an hour on that rope to lower us down.
When we got to the bottom, where I expected to find a chaotic jungle of scary creatures, garbage, and everything else you might expect to be tossed from the keep’s windows, I was pleasantly surprised to find lush green farmland, glowing purple fruit trees, and a deep green river. With the blood red sky and burnt orange clouds above, the shocking, hypnotic colors reminded me of a Van Gogh painting.
“Is that coming from inside the wall?” I point to a waterfall pouring from the stone bricks about halfway up, which is probably five thousand feet.
“Yes,” Tiago replies.
“But isn’t my world on the other side?” Trust me. I still don’t get how that’s even possible. My world is round. I’m guessing theirs is too. So how does this wall divide two round worlds?
“Yes.”
“Is it coming from River Wall Manor, from our creek?” My estate is just on the other side, so where else would it come from?
“Yes. Through an underground bridge. It is our only source of water.”
“You mean for the entire planet or just this piece of land?”
“The entire planet,” he replies.
I’m not sure I believe what he’s saying. “Doesn’t it rain here?”
“Once every hundred years.”
That can’t be right. “But don’t you have an ocean?”
“Yes.”
“Tiago, that doesn’t make sense. If you have an ocean, it has to evaporate. The water condenses in the air and then falls on the land.”
“Not in our world. The air does not absorb much moisture. Probably a good thing considering the sulfuric content in the air. Our rain does not bring life.”
So without us, without our water, everything here would die. “Do we get anything from your world?”
“You get our protection from the likes of the Blood People.”
“Wait. So that’s why you protect the wall? You’re protecting your water supply? Then why not just take our world over and get all the water you need?”
“Our two people’s histories run deep. We vowed long ago to protect each other. It is a vow that still stands today.”
So they guard the wall that keeps my world safe. We keep the water flowing from our creek. I wish I had something to carry water with. I’d fill up for the trip.
Tiago adds, “If it were not for that water and the women in your family, we would not have our alliance.”
“How so?”
“Two hundred years ago there was a drought, and we almost broke our vow obligating us to protect the wall. We were not going to survive if we remained here. But your great-great-grandmother was born and brought the rain. Now our people believe the gods always bless us with good fortune when a female Norfolk is born. It is why you are worshipped in these lands.”
“Worshipped?” I scoff. “You called me pathetic and weak.”
“What do you expect, Lake? You wish me to fall to my knees and grovel at your feet? We do not do that.”
“Then how can you say I’m worshipped here?”
“Because you are.” He nods to something off in the distance.
I turn my head to find a small army of forty plus giants marching toward us.
“You see?” he says. “They have come to protect you on your journey.”
“Me?”
“You are Norfolk—the last one. And now you are their queen. They believe you will bring us victory and place Alwar back on the throne.”
“If I don’t?”
“Then they believe, as do I, our worlds are done. War will break out and will not stop until everything is consumed, dead, or burned to the ground.”
“Great. No pressure, Tiago.”
“You asked.”
“Next time, just ignore me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The War People must be accustomed to being around tiny objects and not crushing them, because I’m surrounded by a forest of thick hairy legs and huge bare feet, and not one of them has come close to stepping on me.
As we walk, the ground rumbles and thunders. I’m beginning to think the War People do it on purpose, to warn their enemies. We are coming. Run or you’re toast!
The women seem to make the most noise when they walk, despite being a little shorter than the men. They also never smile or say much. They walk with their long braids down their backs, heavy spiked clubs over their shoulders, and they do it in suede bikinis.
Well, not exactly a bikini. It’s more of a short skirt situation and a triangular suede bandana tied around their chests. From down here, I can see lots of hairy crotches and boobs flopping around under those strips of leather.
Yikes. Just keep your eyes to the ground.
However, despite the terrible view, what grabs me most about them is how they’re all so different from the Wall Men. These people look like they eat, breathe, and live war. Scarred backs, arms, and faces. One man is missing most of his fingers. But you’d think by the way they walk, they’re proud of their battered, slightly mutilated bodies.