The Gates of Memory Page 15

  With that he was gone, leaving her with nothing but the certain knowledge that the Etari gate would continue to fade until it died, bringing her second family with it.

  21

  Brandt ran to the window, poking his head around the corner to see what he could. Down the block one of the houses had started on fire, the flames crawling up from level to level, hungry for more fuel. He watched as a family scrambled across a rope bridge to safety before one end caught fire, burned, and fell.

  Below, the shadows appeared alive.

  For all the destruction, the town was surprisingly quiet. Brandt only heard the fading sound of the bell and an occasional clash of steel. But he heard no screams.

  He glanced across the window to Ana, looking down on the same scene. “Should we fight?”

  “We won’t know who is who.”

  Brandt grimaced. She was right, but they needed to do something. The attack couldn’t be anything but an assassination attempt on Regar.

  “We need to get to the prince,” he decided.

  Ana agreed.

  Their first obstacle was their host family. The family might not see them as an immediate threat, but they weren’t about to let foreign warriors loose in the village during an attack. Brandt pleaded with the father, not wanting to fight their way past the family that had been so kind. The lack of shared language made it difficult. “Prince,” Brandt tried.

  The father stared at him blankly.

  “Regar,” Ana said.

  The father understood that. He glanced between the two former wolfblades, then nodded. He gestured for them to follow.

  Brandt hesitated. Another person complicated matters if they had to fight. But he supposed a guide couldn’t hurt. In the night, confused with small clashes, it would be easy to get turned around.

  They ran down the stairs to the front door. After studying the street, the father grabbed a bow and led them out. He began down the street, then turned left and then right in short order.

  The group hit trouble after turning the second corner. Three figures, silhouetted by the light of a torch, were prying a door open. As Brandt watched, one threw the lit torch into the house.

  Fire had been a poor choice on their part.

  The three invaders turned at the sound of their approach, weapons already drawn. Brandt pulled the flame from the fire and funneled more heat into it from the surrounding air. The flame erupted into a fireball, lighting the invaders’ clothes on fire. They swiped at their burning garments, as though that would somehow put them out.

  Brandt charged as their host fired his bow, killing one of the invaders. Brandt made one pass through the other two, felling them both.

  For a heartbeat their host stared at Brandt, then found his senses and continued on. But he stopped at the next corner. Brandt came close and glanced around the corner.

  He didn’t notice anything until their host pointed. Three stories above them, two archers watched the street below. They wore the same dark clothing as the previous invaders.

  Their host readied himself for a difficult shot, but Brandt grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. Brandt flashed a series of gestures toward Ana. She signed that she understood, then used her lightness to scamper up the side of the building they currently hid behind.

  In a few moments she was behind the watchers. Caught by surprise, they stood no chance against her. She signaled from the roof and indicated she would stay high.

  Brandt gestured for their host to continue. If not for the man’s sharp eye, Brandt would have been caught. He knew enough to look up high, but he hadn’t seen the archers. He’d forgotten how much he hated fighting against Falari tactics.

  They made it another block before the sounds of a fight above them brought them to another halt. Brandt looked up, searching for Ana. He couldn’t find her and assumed the worst. Using what gestures he could, he told their host he was going up to the roofs, and that their host should stay in place.

  Brandt didn’t wait for the argument. He made himself light and ran into a small alley between tall buildings. He zigzagged between the walls, kicking higher off of each until he landed on the rooftops.

  He didn’t believe what he first saw. High above the streets the moon’s illumination was stronger, but Ana was covered in shadows. At least three warriors attacked her, but Brandt couldn’t be sure of the number.

  He charged in, heedless of the danger. His sword cut down one thanks to surprise, then another after a single pass.

  An arrow zipped past his head as he ducked under one shadow’s cut. Brandt closed with his assailant just as another arrow sliced through the robes over his shoulder.

  If their attackers were Falari, which Brandt suspected, they would only rarely close with their opponents. Instead, they would hide in the shadows, firing whenever the opportunity presented itself.

  Brandt cursed. He wasn’t skilled fighting on such terms.

  It also meant killing their immediate opponents posed a problem. Right now, the archers restrained themselves out of fear for hitting their fellow warriors. If their friends fell, far more arrows would fly.

  Leaving them alive wasn’t much wiser, though.

  So he fought through the shadows, and when the last one dropped he shoved Ana off the ledge and followed her down.

  Ana landed lightly on the street below and rolled, easily distributing the impact. Brandt tried the same, but his lightness wasn’t as well-developed. He crashed to the ground, cursing whatever names he could come up with. Fortunately, if he had twisted an ankle, the blood in his veins was too hot to notice.

  Darting from cover to cover they made their way back to where their host waited. They rested there for a moment, catching their breath before pushing on. Brandt tested his ankle, finding it strong.

  They reached Regar’s quarters not long after. Their host again stopped them as the building loomed overhead.

  This section of the town was quiet.

  Far too quiet.

  Brandt and the others hid deep in the shadows, examining their surroundings for the traps that surely existed.

  Two members of Regar’s bodyguard were dead, face down on the street, several arrows in each. Brandt pushed his feelings aside for the moment. He’d gotten to know those guards on the journey here and had liked them. They deserved better than arrows in the back.

  Judging from the angles of the arrows, the attacks had come from up high. Brandt allowed his gaze to travel up and search the buildings. Shadows crawled over the rooftops and Brandt saw at least one archer perched on a corner, watching Regar’s quarters with unbroken concentration.

  Brandt whispered softly in Ana’s ears. “Any ideas?”

  She shook her head.

  Brandt figured he had even odds of reaching the building. If he moved fast and shifted directions frequently they might not hit him. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he had. If they climbed the roofs they would just find themselves in the same situation as they had before. The archers would bide their time and pick them off.

  Still, he had to act. Regar couldn’t last in there forever, if he still lived. The silence surrounding the quarters portended an ominous future.

  Brandt collected a few stones and started twirling them around his body. He still hadn’t found his way past the cost, so he couldn’t launch them with lethal force like the Etari, but they still served as a useful tool. He whispered his plan to Ana. If he could distract the archers for long enough, she could help the prince escape to someplace safer.

  He sprinted from cover, drawing the attention of at least two archers. His quick direction changes kept them from hitting him, but both arrows passed too close for comfort. Again he kicked from one wall to the next, reaching the rooftops with record speed.

  He saw four archers as soon as he crested the roof. He sent stones their way at the same time that he dove. Two shafts sailed overhead as he split his focus between the stones and his own movement.

  The stones weren’t large enough or f
ast enough to do anything more than stun the archers, but it was the distraction he was going for. One stone hit an archer square between the eyes, knocking him onto his back. Another caught an enemy in the chest. The others missed, but they’d forced the archers to evade, which was all Brandt could have asked for.

  Brandt didn’t know how long he fought for. He didn’t pause, his body in constant motion. Between his own movement and the circling stones, Brandt managed not to get shot.

  He gained ground against the invaders. Whenever one of his stones hit a nearby archer hard enough to keep them off-balance for several moments, he was there, his sword nearly invisible in the darkness.

  His defense wasn’t perfect. One arrow caught him high in the left shoulder, embedded at an awkward angle. The arrowhead didn’t penetrate all the way through the light armor Brandt wore. Another arrow grazed his left leg, causing a burning line of pain to erupt whenever his weight settled on the limb.

  Then the pressure against him eased.

  He saw her moving on another rooftop, liquid death.

  Ana had joined the fight.

  Something below had gone wrong. They should be escorting Regar away. But the archers gave Brandt no time to ask Ana what had happened. He simply had to trust. If she was fighting, so would he.

  He kept pushing. His weariness grew, his body growing heavier with every beat of his heart. He held his focus, using the stones against any archer he noticed, but the effort cost him.

  Brandt stumbled, then pushed himself back to his feet.

  He couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

  An arrow glanced off his torso, the shallow angle causing the shaft to skip off his armor.

  He was failing.

  And then the attacks stopped.

  Brandt kept moving, kept spinning, but there were no more arrows and he couldn’t make out any archers. On some silent signal they had all vanished into the darkness they’d come from.

  Brant slowed and came to a stop, nervous that this was all some feint. Unable to keep his focus any longer, the stones dropped, clattering to the roofs.

  He stood on his rooftop, expecting the assault to resume. Now that he had come to a stop he wasn’t sure he could start moving again.

  But he saw no more enemies and no arrows came his way. Ana became light and leaped from her rooftop to his.

  That alone impressed him. His exhaustion was complete. He would need a ladder to come down off the roof.

  Ana answered his question before he could even ask it. “He refused to leave.”

  “Of course he did. But why?”

  “He said the town would help defend him. To leave would be an insult to their honor.”

  Shapes moved in the darkness at the edges of Brandt’s vision. They were townspeople. No one wore the dark clothing of the invaders, and Brandt caught sight of a few faces he recognized.

  He gave in to his exhaustion, collapsing back and sitting on the angled roof.

  The fight had taken place near the limits of his abilities. The constant movement combined with the use of affinities had drained him of everything.

  But with the exhaustion came a certain satisfaction. A pride.

  He’d given everything, and he’d helped keep the archers away from Regar. His talents had always been on the battlefield.

  But his satisfaction wasn’t complete. He’d pushed to the very limits of his ability, and if the attack hadn’t broken when it had, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could have lasted.

  The cost still plagued him. He knew the Etari used gatestones to bypass the cost, opening up the technique Brandt had seen the young Etari, Azaleth, use to such great effect outside Landow. But he didn’t think the Etari would give him a gatestone anytime soon.

  The empire had a few, but they were in the care of the emperor and the monasteries. They weren’t given to individuals under any circumstances.

  Which left him in the same place. He felt like he was nearing the edges of his ability, and if this ambush was any indication, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed more strength, but he didn’t know how to obtain it.

  Ana sat down, putting an end to that string of thoughts. They sat in silence as the sky above the mountain peaks turned pink with the dawning of a new day. He grabbed her hand and held it in his, and together they watched their allies begin to heal one another.

  22

  Although she felt the temptation to remain connected to the gate and explore its abilities further, Alena decided her efforts were enough for the day. She made her way back to Toren, who was calmly sitting upon the imaginary plains of Etar. Then she severed their connection completely.

  Back in the tent, she found that not much time had passed at all. Jace, vigilantly guarding the two of them, looked surprised to see them so soon. She’d noticed that aspect to soulwalking before, but within the gate the effect seemed stronger.

  Toren had questions about their experience and what he had felt through their bond, but Alena begged for some space. Hanns’ refusal to cooperate irritated her, and she found it impossible to focus. Jace, thankfully, sensed Alena’s state of mind. He promised Toren they would meet for a midday meal, then escorted Alena to their tent.

  Once alone, Jace settled near the entrance, protecting her from interruption and giving Alena all the space she needed. She paced the short length of the tent, sorting her thoughts. It didn’t take her long to realize these weren’t problems she could sort on her own.

  She recruited Jace, explaining everything that happened. He asked insightful clarifying questions, then sat in silence when she finished.

  When he did answer, it was carefully. “Alena, I think I agree with Anders VI.” Jace hadn’t had the same interactions with Hanns and refused to use the emperor’s given name.

  Before Alena could object, Jace held up his hands. “I understand. I really do. But hear me out.”

  Through a force of will, Alena shut her jaw and listened.

  “There’s no doubt that if the Etari lose their gate it will be difficult for them. But it doesn’t necessarily mean disaster. Even without their gatestones they all possess affinities and the ability to use them. They’re still skilled hunters and warriors. Losing the gate would change their culture, but it doesn’t endanger their lives.”

  Alena took a deep breath. Her brother had a point. She nodded, sensing that he still had more to his argument.

  “So the question, then, is this: Is the loss of the Etari way of life worth the potential gain for the empire?” Jace paused. “I believe it is. I know you’re angry at the emperor, but remember that he’s using this power to protect the whole continent, including the Etari and the Falari. He’s a capable commander. He knows the only way to remain safe against the Lolani is to keep them on their own land. He can’t sacrifice either Etar or Falar—if the Lolani gain a foothold it’s only a matter of time before they bring the fight to the heart of the empire. So even if the Etari lose the gatestones, they’ll still have the emperor’s protection.”

  At that moment, Alena appreciated Jace more than anyone else in the world. Not because he had convinced her, but because his calm argument helped focus her own. Blades only became sharpened against a whetstone. Arguments only became clear when one could see both sides.

  “You’re right, but I don’t think it’s only Etari culture at stake.” Alena moved her hands through the air randomly, searching for the right words. “Soulwalking has taught me that everything is connected, and that’s true of the gates, too. They weren’t built to be used the way Hanns or the queen is using them.” She searched for an explanation. “I think the balance is important.”

  “And what happens if that balance is disrupted?”

  Alena shook her head. “I don’t know, but I doubt Hanns does, either. The power we’re talking about is beyond incredible, Jace. The risk of making a mistake is too high.”

  “But you said the queen is drawing too much power through her gate, too.”

  “And?”

  “
So you’ve still got a problem. Even if you convinced Anders VI, you haven’t fixed anything. Maybe you even make it easier for the queen.”

  Alena grimaced. She hadn’t considered that possibility, but Jace had a point, again.

  She returned to pacing their tent. What could she do?

  She could tie herself to the Etari gate the same way Hanns tied himself to the other gates. She’d seen the emperor’s connection a couple of times now and thought she could duplicate it. That idea was intoxicating. She imagined the good she could do with such power. Perhaps control of the gate would give her enough strength to challenge the Lolani queen.

  Thankfully, reason reasserted itself before she followed her imagination too far. She doubted the Etari would give her permission to control their gate, and to attempt it without permission was a betrayal of the trust Sooni had shown her.

  It was also the same trap Hanns found himself in. If he couldn’t defeat the queen with two gates, what luck would she have with one?

  She dismissed the idea, as tempting as it was.

  She turned to Jace. “What would you do?”

  Jace stared at the ground. “I’m not the person to ask. I don’t understand nearly enough of this. So I’d listen to my superior. In this case, that’s the emperor.”

  Alena felt a pang of sympathy for her brother. Ever since he’d been little he’d admired his sister’s rebelliousness, but it had never been his. He craved a life of adventure, but he lived his life within the rules created by others.

  Alena needed guidance. Any other opinion would help. She didn’t want to turn to Sooni, who was closest. Sooni’s interests, with good cause, lay with her own people. She wouldn’t be able to examine the whole problem.

  Brandt was the only person who came to mind.

  They hadn’t been in touch since their battle with the queen, but she knew he was alive and well. It would be good to see him, regardless. She dropped into a soulwalk and pulled on the thread that connected them.