City of Light (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (48 page)

It took him a moment to notice that something had changed.

The grass, which usually rippled in a gentle breeze, had stilled. Even the crawling nest of emerald lightning overhead was completely frozen. Simon stood in a lake of absolute quiet and stillness; for a moment he thought he’d called as much Nye essence as he could hold, but he felt no ice in his lungs.

The Wanderer had his eyes shut, and the Eldest drew a deep, rattling breath through his hood, as though savoring a new scent.

“It has been too long since we were complete,” said the Nye.

“I can already sense the difference,” Valin responded. “The scales are swinging, I’m sure you know that.”

“But this time, they will settle on balance.” The Eldest took one more breath, and then the world snapped back into motion.

Simon stood holding Mithra in one hand, feeling like he’d missed most of what had passed between the other two. “What now?”

The Eldest turned to him. “Now? Someone created and controlled an Incarnation of Valinhall, sending him to lead an attack against us and steal our weapons.”

“And I think we all know who,” Valin said, his voice hot with anger.

“The Ragnarus King has delivered us one insult too many,” the Eldest continued. “I have spoken with Indirial, and I can be sure that the blame for this latest injustice lies at the feet of Zakareth the Sixth. He has, in effect, murdered Kai, corrupted Indirial, and declared war on the House itself. You tell me, Founder’s heir, what should be done about a man like that?”

Anger grew in Simon even as his fist tightened on Mithra’s hilt. Zakareth and his family had sacrificed thousands of lives over the years to protect the people from Incarnations, and now he was killing people as an Incarnation himself.

More to the point, for Simon, King Zakareth was the man responsible for Otoku and Kai’s death, as well as Indirial’s Incarnation. He had set himself up to oppose Leah, and if you looked at it from a certain perspective, set into motion the events that led to the death of Simon’s mother.

And now he was a reckless, deadly Incarnation, who was rallying the other Incarnations under his immortal rule.

No matter how Simon looked at it, the man needed to die.

“I’m going to find him,” Simon said. “I’m going to take our swords back, and in the end I’m going to chop his head off.”

Valin jabbed a finger at him. “With that attitude, you’ll do well around here.”

Simon started walking to the graveyard door. He wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed in the outside world since Kai’s death, but he knew that he needed to meet up with Leah. It might already be too late for the defense of Enosh, but in case it wasn’t, he’d need to contact Alin. And for the fight itself, he’d have to mobilize everyone who could possibly carry a Dragon’s Fang. They’d need the two lost Fangs back, and maybe he could persuade Benson to lend Lycus some steel…

He was lost in thought when he realized that he’d forgotten one very important question.

“I almost forgot to ask,” he said, turning back to the other two. “Who’s my new advisor?”

Valin looked at him. The Eldest looked at him. Then the Nye pressed his sleeves together and gave him a little bow.

The Wanderer started laughing.

“No,” Simon said in horror. “Please, Maker, no.”

The Eldest bowed deeper. “I am pleased for this opportunity, son of Kalman. We shall be working together much more closely in the future.”

***

When Leah left the Crimson Vault, her world had changed.

Everything seemed flatter, for one thing. As she picked her way over the rubble of the royal palace—Ragnarus Gates only had one exit—she stumbled and fell no less than six times. Her hands were scraped raw from catching herself on rough stone, but she couldn’t seem to judge distances properly with one eye. Her father had apparently adjusted, so she would have to as well.

Besides, the other advantages more than made up for the drawbacks.

The place on the ground floor where the Hanging Tree had once stood, she still saw as the ghost of a crimson door, towering over the ruins of the palace. That, she was sure, marked the exit of a Ragnarus Gate. Other ghosts hung in the air: sparkling white stars that bobbed down the street, drifting fireballs with screaming faces, miniature towers sculpted from ice. Remnants of Travelers’ powers.

When she glanced at Murin, the raven swirled with feathers of white and bronze. The bird was bound to Avernus, which was obvious even without her crimson eye. But she found it most interesting that the bird apparently was bound to the Territory and Leah in equal measure: a thin red line connected the bird’s leg to Leah’s shoulder.

So the raven was connected to Leah, not the Incarnation. That was cause for relief and suspicion at the same time. On the one hand, she was glad not to be carrying a spy around on her shoulder. On the other, the Avernus Incarnation’s motives were unclear. How did she benefit from the Queen of Damasca carrying around a loyal advisor? Did she want Leah to think better of Avernus?

As Leah snuck up to the walls of Cana, she had more disturbing things to occupy her mind than the possible plans of the Avernus Incarnation.

For one thing, the top of the wall was crowded with transparent specters. Golems of ghostly light patrolled along the wall, under a steady snowfall and a rain of blood. Ornheim, Helgard, and…Ragnarus, she thought. She was certain her father could have figured out exactly what each of the different Incarnations were doing here, but she still wasn’t used to the Eye. She would have to learn its powers one by one.

Black chains, seemingly made of shadow, crawled over everything. If the chains had any connection to the marks on Simon’s arms, then this meant someone had called on Valinhall in great measure. Perhaps even a Valinhall Incarnation.

Fear gripped her chest, but she forced it away, walking among the chains. Even if there was still a Valinhall Incarnation around, worrying about it wouldn’t do any good. It could kill her the same whether she was prepared or not.

Murin gave a soft caw and flew in a broad circle around her head, sending a flood of reassurance through their mental bond. The raven didn’t sense another mind nearby, which did help Leah to relax.

Only a moment later, she reached her destination: at the center of the web of chains, there stood the ghost of a door. It was made of wood, and carved with the emblem of a sword—long and slightly curved, like Simon’s—but bound in chains.

She had no doubt that this was the door to Valinhall. Someone had opened a Gate here, and not long ago.

Reaching deep into Ragnarus, she withdrew what she needed. A straight sword, its blade twisting with black and red in a vaguely shifting, nauseating pattern, appeared in her hand in a flash of red light. This was one of the Vault’s several gatecrawlers, though she couldn’t recall its name at the moment.

She had promised Simon that she would contact him when she needed him. Well, she needed to talk to him now, and she wasn’t sure how to send him a message without tearing open his Territory. Hopefully he’d see the need.

Holding the sword in both hands, Leah jammed it into the translucent door. The steel edge of the blade glowed red, and the red-and-black lines twisted and danced. Leah sawed back and forth, tearing open the Gate one inch at a time.

Now that she thought of it, she’d never operated a gatecrawler personally before. She’d never had to; there was always another capable Traveler around to do it for her. Somehow, she had never quite realized that they were so much
work.
It was like chopping down a thick tree with a dull spade. She was sweating before she got the Gate halfway finished, and her arms ached and burned by the time she finished, and the Valinhall Gate snapped open.

She found herself staring down seven feet of a silver-and-gold blade, looking into Simon’s hooded face. An old soldier at Simon’s side held a Tartarus steel infantry sword—she thought his name was Erastes, from the last time she had entered the House. Beside him, Andra Agnos had her long blond hair bound up in a tail, and chains were crawling up her forearms. She held her short, black-spotted blade in both hands.

So they had reacted to a gatecrawler as if to an attack. That was…not unexpected. In Valinhall, even the most innocent actions could conceal an attack, and tearing open a foreign Territory wasn’t usually the action of a friend.

If it was just Simon, she might have apologized. But Erastes and Andra were there as well, and they were proper Damascan citizens. They needed to see their Queen composed.

Leah pushed aside Simon’s blade and stepped into Valinhall, letting the gatecrawler vanish back into the Vault. “I need to speak with you, Simon. I’ve gained some information regarding the enemy’s next move.” Behind her, the Gate slid slowly shut.

That reminded her.

“Ah, before I forget…” She stepped to the edge of the Gate and reached both hands into the air of the outside world. Then she summoned two more swords from the Crimson Vault.

These swords were reasonably sized, compared to a few of the other Valinhall blades, but she still felt every ounce of their weight when she held one in each hand. She turned without showing the effort.

“I believe these belong to you,” she said.

Simon’s eyes widened, and he tossed his own gold-streaked blade onto a nearby sofa, freeing his hands to pick up the new blades.

“Diava,” he said, hefting the short-handled, red-wrapped sword in his right hand. This blade had a more pronounced curve than his own. “And…” He glanced at the second blade, which had a strangely long handle to pair with its short blade. “I don’t know the name of this Fang, but I’ve seen it here. I guess it’s Kathrin’s.”

He looked at Andra, who shrugged and placed her sword on one of the wooden racks.

Erastes was still on his knees; Leah hadn’t even noticed him kneeling. “You may stand,” she said absently. She really needed to change that tradition.

Simon placed the blades on a couple of nearby racks, a few spaces away from Andra’s. “Where did you find these?”

Leah arched an eyebrow at him. “It seems they were sealed inside the Crimson Vault. I removed them during my visit there.”

Simon stared at her left eye. “Oh. Yeah. How…is it? The eye?”

Queen Cynara had managed to transplant the Eye of Ages in a quick procedure that involved no blood or unpleasant tools, and had only taken a handful of seconds. By contrast, it had taken Leah six hours to get over the pain. Her eye still throbbed, and she was constantly fighting the urge to scratch the socket.

Not that Simon needed to know any of that.

“I can see farther than I ever have before,” she said, which was a mysterious enough answer to suit even her father. It was true, though. The chains on Simon’s arms didn’t stop at his skin. She could now see them twisting off into the distance like black ribbons, disappearing into the air of the Territory.

As he used his powers, he was binding himself to Valinhall in some way. Hopefully he knew already, but just in case, she would have to tell him about it later.

“More importantly, I need to speak with Indirial,” Leah said. “Have you found him?”

Some emotion twisted Simon’s expression for an instant, but he smoothed it again. “He attacked us. We had to seal him here.”

It took a few seconds for the full impact of the words to sink in.

If Indirial had attacked the House of Blades, that meant he had been working for Zakareth. Cynara had explained that his first step would be to destroy or recruit the Valinhall Travelers, as they would be the most capable of defeating him
or
the one remaining Elysian.

And if he had been sealed in the House…

“I see,” Leah said, fighting the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “He will be missed.” She hadn’t spent much time with the Overlord of Cana the past few years, that was true, but he had once been more of a father to her than King Zakareth had ever been. Now…he might be lucid, but there was no telling how much of
him
would be left. Some Incarnations were little better than monsters.

Leah took a deep breath, steadied herself, and walked over to the tallest table in the room. It was different than she remembered: slightly smaller, and carved in a different pattern. Freshly carved, if she wasn’t mistaken. She spread out the map that always covered the table and nodded to Simon. “I need you to call the other Valinhall Travelers. We’re going back to Enosh.”

Simon, Erastes, and Andra walked up to the table, and Simon met her gaze. His eyes were even darker than usual.

“I can’t call anyone else,” he said. “This is it. Now, what’s the plan?”

***

It had been a few days since Simon had visited the camp outside of Cana, but tonight it looked almost completely deserted. Trash, discarded weapons, wagon ruts, and torn-up grass were all that remained of the army of refugees who had followed Leah for six months, aside from a couple of patrols and a few isolated tents.

With Andra and Erastes trailing her, Leah made her way through the dark to one of the remaining tents. Every once in a while, her bird gave a peaceful-sounding gurgle, which she seemed to interpret as helpful advice.

“We can get to Enosh through any number of Territories,” Simon muttered. He kept his voice low; they weren’t sneaking, exactly, but she had said to avoid attracting attention as much as possible. “If we can send Alin a message, he might even be able to send us some bears. There are other ways.”

Leah turned to him, one eye blue and the other glowing red. She smiled. “Trust me,” she said.

Simon wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the Ragnarus eye. It reminded him uncomfortably of her father, though at least she’d managed to avoid the scar running across his eye socket.

Although, now that he thought of it, Leah might look good with a scar. Everyone could use a few scars; Maker knew he had his share.

I can’t believe I have to tell you this,
Caela sent,
but keep your mind on the mission.

We’re not in Enosh yet. I can’t defend the place until we get there.

Certainly not,
she said reasonably.
Hey, Queen Leah: you should get into more knife-fights. Simon would like you better with a few prominent facial scars.