Through the Veil (41 page)

This isn’t the way.

Lee would have plugged up her ears if she could. That annoying, intrusive voice just wouldn’t shut up. “Yeah, it is. It’s the only way.”

Giving yourself over to them? You think that is a solution? It’s not
—
the solution lies within you. It’s your magick. Flood the gate with it. It knows you, accepts you. Use it!

Lee snarled, “Would you just leave me the hell alone?” She wasn’t sure if she spoke out loud, and she was even less sure who that voice belonged to. It could have belonged to herself—it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d argued with herself. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the last either. Lee imagined there was going to be plenty of time for her to look back and question the wisdom of this decision.

And yet she couldn’t stop those words from circling through her head.
It knows you, accepts you. Knows you . . .
Like an echo, they kept repeating through her head. She shuddered, and as the answer finally made itself clear, her knees buckled with relief.

She didn’t have to give her body over to the Warlords. But her magick—to the gate. It was just days ago, two . . . maybe three . . . when Lee had watched those rather innocuous tripods as they decimated the wyrms. She remembered wondering what might happen if those things were directed at the gate.

It would take a huge burst of power, massive; one strike was all they’d get before the gate shut down. It would shut down at any sign of foreign power, and Kalen’s men simply didn’t have the amount of firepower it would take to hit it hard and fast.

Lee’s power, though—the gate accepted Lee’s power. Accepted, hell, it seemed to crave it. Lee could feel it pulling at her, and it wasn’t the first time she’d felt like this either. Unlike the other times, though, she was right up close and personal with the gate, and pulling away wasn’t an option.

The thing felt almost sentient. She sensed its hunger as she funneled more and more power into it.
This is the answer
. Satisfaction blazed through her. Yeah, she was probably going to go down with the gate, because she could feel the thing wrapping its power around her, pulling her inside.

But if she went down in a blaze of glory, it was a damn sight better than spending the rest of her life in some silken cage.

Kalen came pounding into the Gap like the hounds of hell were at his heels, but it was all for nothing, Morne thought bitterly. Lee hadn’t tried to escape again, but it would be so much easier if she had. Had she run away, even if she’d been caught, Morne could have pursued her, straight into Anqar if necessary. But she was now caught up in a game of chance with the gate. Gate energies were turbulent, and if she faltered, Lee was dead. Possibly along with every last soul in the Gap.

“This isn’t happening,” Morne muttered. He pressed his fingers to his eyes and swore long and hard. Focus and concentration danced out of his reach, but he had to get control. With sweat dripping from his brow, he closed his eyes and opened that part of his mind that let him pierce the Veil. He didn’t lift it—the last thing he needed was the reaction the troops would have if they became aware of one of his many secrets. Instead, he just reached through, connecting with Arnon.

His twin waited on the other side, and Morne sensed Arnon’s uneasiness.
What is going on, brother?
Arnon demanded, his mental voice quivering with rage.

Aneva’s precious little girl is opening the gate, brother
.

Arnon’s thoughts stumbled to a halt and then, for a brief moment, all Morne could sense from him was a casual dismissal.
She can’t. She’s no Warlord. She’s a woman.

She’s also Eira’s granddaughter. You’ve sensed the woman’s power before, Arnon. Lee’s father would have been the next High Lord
—
he was the most powerful Warlord in Anqar. No, she shouldn’t be able to open the gate, but that is exactly what she is doing
. And Morne should have been prepared for this—he’d seen how she reacted when the gate’s power acted up around her. She recognized it—and likewise, the gate seemed to recognize her. Gate energy was something the Warlords had long accepted as a sentient being. Not one they could fully comprehend, but it didn’t act or react like conventional magickal energy.

When gate magick existed within a person, using that magick was practically instinctive. Mastering it took time, but once gate magick revealed itself, using it was just a matter of time. Lee was damn young, too young for the gate magick to have already revealed itself. Yet it had. Morne should have been prepared for this, the moment he realized she could hear the musical call of the gate. Recognizing it and using it weren’t that far apart, not when the talent ran strong.

Seven hells, this is bad,
Arnon whispered. As one, the twins shifted their focus. Although they saw none of it with their physical sight, they knew what would happen once Lee managed to fully raise that gate. If she didn’t get sucked into the maelstrom of power, then the Warlords would come hunting her, and they wouldn’t give up until they had her. Nothing in hell would stop them.

We have to stop her. Stop her now,
Arnon demanded.

Morne snarled.
And pray tell me how I’m to do that without killing her?
Along with every one around them, if the power backlashed.

Arnon’s voice, by contrast, was gentle
. We have no other choice, Morne. If they realize she can do this, and they find her, she will wish for death. Long before it comes. Both of us know it. It must stop now, regardless of how it ends.

A woman with gate magick. She would be hated, coveted, and as long as the Warlords had a chance of finding her, her life and her freedom would be in danger. Morne looked at the air, watching as it fully manifested. The gate was open—just a small sliver of it. Like a rent in the air, he could see the dry, arid lands of Anqar just through the gap. Just a little. Hot desert winds, smelling of the sands and spice, wafted through. On the other side of the ever-widening gate, he saw two faces.

His twin. And a Warlord. He was staring at Lee with disbelief. It faded, though, quickly replaced by an avaristic greed that made every protective instinct Morne had go on red alert. He opened his senses—it felt like something tore inside his mind as he tried to reach out with too much of himself, spread too thin.

Distantly, he sensed what Lee was thinking.

He knew what she had planned, knew it could quite possibly kill her—and at the same time save her mother’s homeworld. The idea itself was simple, so simple. So beautiful. Something that was born of the twin magicks she had inside her, magicks that should never have been forced together inside one person. He felt Arnon’s touch on his mind, felt him recoil in horror as Arnon realized what Lee was going to do.
It won’t work,
they thought as one.

But then Morne shook his head.
It will
—
if her magick can sustain her.
Lee’s connection to the earth was tenable, at best. Already she was faltering. She might not realize it, but the twins did. Distantly, Morne was aware of Kalen and all the men watching and staring in horror. They couldn’t rush in and grab Lee away—the magick she was pouring into the gate would suck them inside, and death would be the easiest fate, but not the likely one. The men would die, and Lee would never again breathe free air.

She needs more power,
Arnon murmured. He said nothing else, but Morne knew what he wanted.

Pain spasmed through him as he stared at his twin’s face.
If this works, it will level everything on the other side of that gate.
It had happened once before, and the crater of Yorkton was the result of the power surge. This time the power surge would happen on the other side of the gate— right where Arnon now stood.

Do it, Morne.

If I do, she’ll likely die,
Morne said. So will you. He didn’t tell Arnon his final words, but his twin knew nonetheless. Those unspoken words hung between them as they stared at each other through the unstable gate.

Arnon smiled gently.
I have been dead inside for years, my brother. You know this. It will come as a blessing, if I but know she is beyond the reach of our kind. And if you don’t, she’ll die anyway. They’ll find her, for certain. How well will she tolerate the silken slavery of being some Warlord’s Tiris? She will be fought over, claimed by the strongest Warlord. With strength too often comes brutality
—
at least among our kind. I do not want that for her. Nor do you
.

Still . . .
Brother, I can’t.

You have to, brother,
Arnon murmured.
Do it now before her power wanes
. Their silent communing had yet to catch the attention of others, but it was just a matter of time.

Morne stared at his brother and searched for some other way. But there wasn’t one. He knew it. His brother knew it. Arnon’s face was calm, accepting, even as he said aloud, “You made an oath to me, brother. You will keep it.”

The Warlord standing at Arnon’s side glanced at him, puzzled by those sudden words. Eyes narrowed, he followed Arnon’s gaze, tracking it across the gate and landing on Morne. Eyes went wide and Morne saw the recognition.
Arnon, you bloody fool . . .
His twin had given them away, and on purpose if Morne knew him at all well.

“Do it, Morne.
Now.
”

Morne closed his eyes. Whispered softly the proverb he’d heard often since coming to this world so many years ago, “Blessings on thy path, brother.” And then he reached down deep, reaching into the earth for the power that lay dormant. Just waiting for the right hand to touch it, use it. He gathered it inside and then turned his focus on Lee, funneling it through her, solidifying her connection to the earth. It struck her with a force that was nearly palpable, and Morne saw her body react, spine arching, mouth falling open. Her blue eyes gleamed, and some ethereal light seemed to emanate through her pale skin.

“Don’t falter now, Lee,” he whispered. Her body jerked hard. He could feel her pulling away from the sudden onslaught of energy, but just when it all threatened to overwhelm her, she steadied.

He watched as she anchored herself in the vast energies of the earth—connected to them through him. Morne’s abilities as a healer gave him a deep, unending link to the earth, and Lee’s natural witch talent did the rest, converting that earth energy into pure, sheer power. The gate sucked it up like a thirsting man drank water, quick and greedy.

When Arnon added power from across the Veil, light flared and shone so brightly that Morne could barely see anything else. But still, he continued to look into the gate, staring at his brother. He stared, even when the light blinded him and he could no longer see anything at all. Even when he could no longer feel Arnon, he continued to stare.

Some distant part of him wanted to screech in denial as Kalen watched Lee. The power flowed out of her, straight and true, flowing into the gate. Too much power—Kalen could see little wisps of energy trying to escape; he could sense the gate trying to shut down, but Lee wouldn’t let it.

She controlled the gate as though she had been doing so all her life. Perhaps, in essence, she had. She’d been born with the ability inside her, and the evidence of it had been in front of him all this time, yet he hadn’t ever seen it. All these years, Lee had been gating back and forth between their worlds in her dreams. The question
how
. . . only made a passing appearance in his mind. How was it possible—there was only one way.

Aneva hadn’t been alone when she escaped the Warlord who had claimed her. She’d had a child with her—a Warlord’s child—Lee. Or rather, Lelia. She was born of a powerful bloodline on both sides, and those powers joining together had resulted in something Kalen had never even thought of. A witch who could control gates—more, a
female
. Witches, by nature, had a stronger connection to the earth than any other known talent. Only healers came close to equaling that power. With that ability to tap into the vast resources of a world’s energies, and the ability to manipulate gate energy . . . As if pieces of a puzzle were abruptly falling into order, Kalen realized just why it was Lee was so damn important.

He’d always known she was. He’d anticipated some great magickal power, or some sudden insight that would end the war. But he hadn’t expected this. Lee was going to end Anqar’s hold over Kalen’s realm.

By destroying the gates. While they all watched, Lee continued to pour more and more magick into the gate realms, that ephemeral plane between the worlds. She was going to flood it with more energy than the gate could hold, but the gates were greedy. They would take more and more, until they self-destructed.

Sudden blinding clarity hit Kalen. Yorkton. Somehow, something similar had happened in Yorkton. The crater that remained was the result. “Dear God,” Kalen prayed.

He’d been willing, in theory, to sacrifice his army if that secured their world’s safety. His men felt the same in general.It was something they had talked about time and again, but looking at it theoretically and watching as it unfolded were so vastly different.

Kalen felt sick. Sick and frustrated because there were only two possible outcomes. Both resulted in the destruction of the last large gate that remained in their world, so in the end, his world would finally be safe. Either way, however, his life was over.

Either they’d all die when Lee’s control slipped and the gate’s backlash killed them all, or as the gate shut down one final time, it would suck Lee inside. She’d be dead—and so would he. Even if his heart continued to beat for another fifty years, when he lost Lee, it was going to kill him.

Then I go with her,
he thought. Caring very little, Kalen glanced around at his men. His gaze lingered briefly on Morne, and he knew that the task of leading his men would fall to the healer. With Dais being a traitor, no other had the experience.