City of Light (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (32 page)

“He
did
ask me to find the lost Dragon's Fangs,” Simon said. “That was one of the first things he asked me to do.”

Valin whirled on Simon, sword clenched in one fist. “Lost
Fangs?
Plural? They're not here, in the House?”

Simon shook his head.

The bald man plopped down on a gravestone, driving his sword into the ground with more force than necessary. “How many do we have left?”

“Six, I think,” Simon said. “Indirial, Denner, Andra, Kai, and I all have one. Plus Kathrin is supposed to have one, but I've never met her.”

“They lost
half
my swords!” Valin exclaimed. “More than half! I don't—all right, kid, look. The Eldest is right about some things, and he's wrong about others. He may be old and mysterious and creepy as a Strugle—”

A what?
Simon wondered.

“—but he can be wrong, like everybody else. He's right that, if things keep going as they are, Valinhall's going to drift apart. It'll end up like I found it, and that's...” He shuddered. “Believe me, nobody wants that. And if he thinks we need a Founder to prevent that, he's probably right. But listen to me, and listen
close.”

Valin leaned forward, and Simon found himself unable to look away. The Wanderer's gray eyes shone with a hint of metallic silver, as though the Incarnation of Valinhall spoke through him. “If we need a leader, we need one who knows what he's getting into, and who
chose to do it.
This Territory was left in the hands of four people who didn't want to take responsibility for it, and it's falling apart. Using lies and traps to snare a Founder won't work. We need someone to step up, do you understand?”

He did, and the words sounded great in theory, but he was worried about something a little more practical. “How am I supposed to say that to the Eldest? Right to his face...er, his hood.”

Valin grinned and leaned back. “The Eldest forgets that, if he puts you in charge, then you get to be in charge. Ultimately, that means you do what
you
want. Not what he wants. Sometimes, you have to remind him of that.”

Simon sat in place for a moment, mulling it over. He didn't want to lead Valinhall. Ideally, Kai or Indirial would do it. But the
Eldest
wanted him to lead, and that meant that, for once, he had some leverage.

He stood and, after a moment's hesitation, bowed to Valin like one of the Nye. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Valin waved away the thanks. “Don't forget to come by and resurrect me every once in a while, okay? I don't want to wake up and find out I've missed a quarter of a century. Again.”

Simon left the room, heading for the Nye's lair. The Eldest had taken something from him, and if he wanted to start acting like he was in charge, he needed to take it back.

***

As soon as the kid was gone, Valin rose back to his feet and called out, “So what did you think?”

A patch of shadow slid out from behind a column, resolving in to the figure of the Eldest Nye. “You told him far too much,” the Eldest rasped. “And you are turning him against me.”

Valin gave him an insolent grin, purely out of spite. The Eldest hated being mocked. “I thought you'd like that.” With one hand, he tossed his sword high into the air, almost high enough to hit the lightning that danced on the ceiling. “I'm right, and you know it. He can't be what we need if he only does what you tell him.”

“If he does not do what I tell him, he will not survive,” the Eldest snapped. “I will move him like a
puppet
if I must, but I will not go back to what I was. Little more than a shadow.”

“He seems like he's coming along,” Valin said, catching his sword by the hilt as it came down. “Correct me if I'm mistaken, but it seems like he doesn't have much of a life outside Valinhall. Right?”

The Eldest said nothing, which Valin took as agreement.

“Well, then. That's the game half-won. He has nothing to lose by doing what you want. Maybe he won't do it the
way
you want, or
when
you want, but he'll be working with you instead of against you.”

Slowly, the Eldest shook his hood. “You do not know him as well as you think. At times, the son of Kalman is a boulder rolling downhill. He decides that he must do something, and he lets nothing stop him. Even when it would be wiser to stop. But that is only sometimes. The rest of the time, he is a leaf in a breeze. He does not know what he wants, so he does what others tell him. It is an irritating combination.”

Valin stared up at the lightning crackling on the ceiling. The Eldest had argued against the construction of this very room, but it had always been one of Valin's proudest achievements. “There's your mistake, Ka'nie'ka. You're trying to keep him from deciding, so that you can steer the leaf wherever you like. I don't want a leaf. I want a boulder. We don't want to stop him from making up his mind, we want him to make up his mind
in a way that helps us.”

He looked back down to see the Eldest looking thoughtful. He decided to press his advantage. “You're well on your way. In a year or two, perhaps as many as five, he'll be ready. You've got to win him over, instead of tricking him into serving you.”

“Kai stands in the way,” the Eldest rasped, but he sounded contemplative rather than angry.

“You're worried about Kai? The Kai I remember might have been a problem, but
that
Kai would have made an excellent Founder. This one...”
 

Even more than seeing the state of his Territory, even more than realizing his students had betrayed him, even more than remembering how he betrayed his students, Kai had been the greatest disappointment to Valin. He remembered an eccentric genius who practically radiated potential, not this...broken wreck who wanted nothing more than to play with his dolls.

But then, it was Valin who'd broken him.

“Kai would trade Mithra for Azura if Simon so much as suggested it,” Valin said at last. “He’s practically begging for the chance. He won't be a problem, as long as we can get Azura to agree.”

The Eldest put his sleeves together and bowed, unintentionally mimicking Simon's gesture from moments earlier. Or maybe it was intentional; Valin had never been able to understand any of the Nye, much less this one.

“I will consider your words, Master,” the Eldest said at last. “Now, I must go. I suspect the son of Kalman is searching for me.”

“What does he want?”

The Eldest shivered, his many layers of cloth and shadow rustling. “A seed of that which imprisoned you.”

Valin felt like he'd been dunked in a bath full of ice water. “Burn it. Cast it out. Get Kai to open the Nexus, and hurl it as far away from us as you can.”

“I'm not so certain that would be a...permanent solution,” the Eldest said. “Besides, I believe it was you who advised me to let the boy make up his own mind.”

Valin wrestled for a moment with his own rage, with the Incarnation of a warrior Territory rising up in his mind, before he could make himself relax. The Eldest was right. Simon had the right to decide, and it seemed that he was even friends with that Ragnarus girl. Maybe he could persuade
her
to destroy it.

“You're right,” he said at last. He forgot, sometimes, that this wasn't his Territory any longer. He was nothing more than a passenger.

The Eldest glided toward the door, and then paused. “I respect your motivations today,” the Nye said. “But do not oppose me too often. I can just as easily return you to the state in which I found you.”

Valin grinned and raised his sword in a salute to his old friend. “I might say the same to you.”

After the Nye vanished, Valin put himself through a few more sword forms. He wanted to fit in as much exercise as he could before he died again.

His steps felt lighter, and he found his smile lingering. He had a new student to train, a Territory to rebuild, and an old friend to outwit in a lethal contest.

Life didn't get much better than that.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN
:

C
APTURE

In the House's entry hall, Indirial placed his sword onto its rack. Vasha's cracked blade gleamed in the lamplight, reflecting Feiora's irritated expression.

“What are we still doing here, Indirial?” she demanded. “You said he would show up.”

“Relax. I know where he is. There are a few ways in and out, so I don't know exactly where he'll pop out, but this is a pretty safe bet.”

She paced restlessly up and down the room. “They've been alone for too long now. I didn't fully complete the transfer process, so they could have ended up practically anywhere! We need to
do
something.”

Just to show her that he was capable of relaxing, Indirial walked over to a plush sofa, sat down, and propped his feet up on a table. “It hasn't been as long as it feels. You know how this works. I'm sure Eugan is fine, and I
know
Leah is.” That was one of the major purposes of the Damascan royal family's trial: every Heir and Heiress was sent off to live essentially on their own, teaching them self-reliance and practical survival skills. Leah would be well-prepared for surviving in Avernus, especially with Eugan as a guide.

Not to mention the fact that, in direct combat, a Ragnarus Traveler could eat any number of Avernus tribesmen alive. As long as she was willing to pay the price.

“What if she's not?” Feiora demanded. “Are we supposed to bring the crown to Adessa, hm? Or how about her older sister?”

“Feiora,” Indirial said, “I'm as eager to act as you are. You have to understand that there is nothing we can do! A couple of hours ago, Simon was too weak to lift a fork, let alone a Dragon's Fang. And with the way his chains had grown, I wouldn't be surprised if he’d Incarnated the second he tried to open a Gate.”

“I still don't see why—” she began, but Indirial gently spoke over her.
 

“I can only take you two places. The Latari Forest, or straight back to Enosh. That was the last place I opened my Gate. Simon, on the other hand, opened
his
Gate exactly where we want to go. Even if I
did
take you to the forest and you Traveled from there, it would take you, what, a whole day to get where you're going? And that's if they're there. It makes far more sense to wait.”

Indirial had made the argument before, but he didn't blame her for her agitation. Avernus Travelers shared a bond with their birds that he didn't fully understand, but they became almost dangerously overprotective when their advisors were in danger.
 

Besides, he knew how he would feel if his family had been trapped in another Territory. He had almost dissolved in panic when he found out how Cana had been sealed, thinking his wife and daughter were inside, until he remembered that they'd left the city before Enosh attacked. They waited for him even then, safe in Leah's camp. Well, as safe as anyone was, with the Incarnations loose.

“How long
has
it been for them, in Avernus?” Indirial asked, mostly to make conversation.

“It's hard to say, exactly,” she said. “Avernus is like Helgard, in that the flow of time fluctuates in patterns. Unlike Helgard, though, Avernus is notoriously hard to predict.”

Indirial nodded along. He had learned this years ago, but for her sake he tried to look studious and alert. The longer he could keep her talking, the more patiently she’d wait for Simon.
 

“If it's been one night outside, in Avernus it could be...half that. A quarter. Less. Or perhaps as much as seven-eighths, I can't say for certain.”

Indirial smiled as though that solved the matter. “See? For them, it's barely been any time at all.”

“Far too much time,” Feiora began, but she stopped when a rug lifted in the center of the room. It bulged evenly in the middle, as though a door had been opened beneath it. Which was, of course, exactly what had happened.

“Hey,” Simon called out. “Is there somebody out there? I don't want to call steel right now.”

Indirial leaned down and tossed the rug out of the way, then gave Simon a hand up. He had climbed up a ladder that stretched all the way down into the bowels of the Territory, well out of the reach of the light.

“Thanks,” Simon said, then he looked suspiciously from one Overlord to the other. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Indirial responded. Then he saw Simon slip something in his pocket. Something that had been hidden in his hand. “What have you got there?” he asked, but Feiora shouldered him aside.

“I already told you what we want!” she said. “Open a Gate to Cana!”

Simon looked at Indirial. “Oh, that's right. You opened the Gate from Enosh, didn't you?”

Indirial turned and lifted Azura's gleaming blade from its rack. Since he hadn't called steel, it took him both hands. “If you would, sir.”

He hesitated to take his sword. “I don't want to call steel right now.” He pulled the collar of his cloak aside, revealing black chains that were starting to retreat down his back. “Is there any other way...”

“No, there isn't,” Indirial said, as gently as he could. “We do need you to do this.” His own chains wrapped around his midsection, and he was reluctant to call any more power. Simon's were in even worse shape, but there was no other choice. He hadn't heard from Denner in weeks, not that being unable to contact Denner was in any way unusual, and Kai had retreated back to the deep rooms, where Indirial was reluctant to follow.

More importantly, he had no idea where Kai's Gate would come out. That left Simon.

To his credit, Simon didn't hesitate any further. He seized the blade with one hand, and the chains on his back began to creep upward as he called steel.

Simon had gotten faster at opening Gates; it only took him half a minute to slice open a portal leading straight into the inside of a tent that Indirial recognized from the camp outside Cana.

Feiora stepped through without a word, and Indirial followed. “Thanks, Simon. Report back here after another night, and we'll see what we can do about finding these Incarnations.”