City of Light (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (14 page)

Rhalia said something else that Alin didn't catch, and the crowd murmured in response. The boy was weeping openly now, but he nodded to Rhalia. She bowed back, her blond hair falling around her eyes so that Alin couldn't see what expression she was making.

The Blue Light retreated, leaving one lifeless corpse on the streets of Enosh.

At last, Alin figured out something he could say that might make a difference to a grieving family member. “He is gone, but I will take his body with me. He will lie in a grave in the City of Light, and Elysia will remember him forever.” He would have to ask someone the dead man's name, at some point, but he was proud of the gesture.

The young man glanced at another worker, who patted him reassuringly on the back. The boy turned back and met Alin squarely in the eyes. “I'm honored, sir. More than I can say. But we'd rather have him back, if…you know, if it’s okay with you. All our family is buried in the same plot, you see, and...”

He shrugged helplessly, unable to finish the sentence.

Alin felt a flash of irritation. He had offered to bury the boy's uncle in a rare and beautiful Territory, there to be remembered forever. How many people got a chance like that? But the Rose Light told him what he should say: “Of course, I completely understand. Take him with my blessing.”

The boy and several of the other workers gathered up the man's body and carried him away. Alin had to command the gnomes twice to let them through; they would rather shave their beards than let workers go before the task was complete.

After that, the other workers simply milled around, shooting him and Rhalia nervous looks. He no longer felt like levitating marble blocks, so he simply told them to go home to their families. They all bowed to him and retreated, leaving only a few horrified-looking gnomes standing in an empty corner of the street next to a pile of shoulder-high marble blocks.

You did everything you could,
the Rose Light said.

That was a tough job well done,
said the Red.

You spared him worse pain,
said the Blue.

He stood there for long minutes, long after the red gnomes had departed, letting the encouragement soothe him. Naturally, he had done the right thing. He was Elysia. He never did anything except the right thing.

Alin meditated on his own virtue until his smile returned and the world seemed right again. Only then did he fly back over the city, where more work awaited him.

He hardly noticed that the Silver Light had said nothing.

And neither had Rhalia.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT
:

T
HE
G
ALLERY

“So you lied to me,” Simon said.

“I’d say I verbally misled you for the purposes of deception,” Valin responded.

The Wanderer lounged in the grass, his back propped up against a tombstone. He held a three-foot Damascan infantry sword in his left hand, and was using the point to clean dirt out from under his right fingernails.
 

He couldn’t move any more than his arms. He had exhausted himself so much, calling on his powers as an Incarnation, that he had stayed completely unconscious for two or three hours.

“I
think
that’s exactly what a lie is,” Simon said.

You’d know, you liar!
Otoku sent.
You promised to protect us, and you abandoned me to my fate!

I don’t remember promising that.
Simon hated having two conversations at once, especially when all he wanted to do was look for his mask. He couldn’t even understand how he could have lost the mask in the first place, but the fact remained that it was missing.

“Do you want to know what the
real
graveyard test is?” Valin asked.

“Yes, please.” Simon bent over and looked behind a tombstone, searching for the glint of mirror-bright steel. No good.

“You have to genuinely think you’re going to die,” the Wanderer responded. “That was why I went with the whole Incarnation act. Then, when you’re sure you’re dead, you have to reach out to Valinhall for power. The ghost armor will answer.”

If you leave me with Kai again, even the ghost armor won’t protect you,
Otoku put in.

“So, when you said all that about having to dodge arrows…”

“That was a lie,” Valin said.

Well, at least Simon had passed the test. That was worth something. He hadn’t had a chance to call ghost armor yet, but he could think of at least three or four times when its powers would have come in handy.

Otoku didn’t seem like she was in a celebrating mood. Her voice continued to beat at Simon from the inside of his skull.

You
had
to leave me with him. I asked! I begged! No, I
pleaded
for you to come and help me, but you had to go play in the graveyard!

I'm truly sorry, Otoku,
Simon sent.

Are you?
she demanded.
Are you, Simon? You would be if you'd seen what he did to me!

His fight with Valin had torn holes in the soft soil of the graveyard, leaving slashes and furrows in the grass big enough to slip the mask inside. Maybe it had simply fallen in one of those?

What did he do?
Simon asked, because it seemed like the right thing to say.

He gave me a bath!

Simon tried to imagine Kai fighting off imps in the giant, soapy pool that Valinhall had for a bath, just so he could scrub a wooden doll clean. He could picture it all too easily.

Surely he's done that before, though, right?
Kai had been living with the dolls for decades, he had to have cleaned them at some point.

Meanwhile, Simon slipped his hands into the pockets of his cloak for at least the tenth time. He knew he wouldn't find the mask there, but where was it? The green light of the flashing lightning overhead made it hard to pick out any contrast with the grass, but the illumination was bright enough. He should have been able to see the mask gleaming from anywhere in the room.

The floating white crystal, hovering behind Simon's head, screamed, “SIMON, SON OF KALMAN, REPORT TO THE QUEEN FOR ASSIGNMENT. SIMON, SON OF KALMAN, REPORT TO THE QUEEN FOR ASSIGNMENT.”

It had done that every sixty seconds for the past ten minutes, straight into Simon's ear. At least it was slightly quieter than a bellowing ox.

You think we can't keep ourselves clean, is that it?
Otoku asked, outraged.
You think we sit there on our shelf, collecting dust and wallowing in our own filth?

He’d thought the Nye cleaned them, actually, but he wasn't sure if he should tell her that.

“You know,” Valin said, “I knew a few of this Queen Leah's ancestors. Some of them I quite liked. If you're not making any progress on the mask, you should invite her back here. I'm sure she'd enjoy a little chat. About her family, you understand.”

The Wanderer looked very casual, scraping dirt out of his nails with the point of a sword. You would hardly believe that he was plotting an assassination.

“You can't murder her in the state you're in, you know that,” Simon said wearily. The offer would have been more convincing if Valin hadn't made the same one five times since the flying Lirial crystal had shown up. He'd begged Simon a favor for the honor of seeing a Queen in person, then insisted that he had a secret for fighting the Incarnations, then threatened Simon with banishment from Valinhall if he didn't bring the Queen here.

Valin flashed a disarming smile. “See? I want a conversation. No threat here.” Valin had angled his blade up, and appeared to be shaving his throat with its edge. Did room guardians even grow facial hair?

He removed my dress!
Otoku railed, having taken Simon's silence as an invitation to keep listing Kai's sins.
Oh, sure, why not? Go right ahead! It's not like I have any dignity!

Simon peeked behind a column for the third time. He distinctly remembered having the mask when he entered the graveyard, but maybe he'd been mistaken. Or maybe one of the Nye had taken it. Either way, he should check his bedroom soon.

You're made of wood,
Simon pointed out.
Why do you care if you're naked?

All of the dolls' voices sounded like they were being whispered down a long, windy tunnel, but Otoku did her best to make her scream of frustration heard.
It's like you don't even listen!

She squirmed in his hand—actually, physically fighting his grip—and he was so surprised that he didn't react for a second. Not until he felt a tiny wooden hand slap his cheek.

Otoku stood in his palm, her arm outstretched, her red silk dress rumpled, and her black hair falling behind her. The doll's face was frozen in an unusual scowl.

You moved!
Simon said in surprise. She hardly ever did that. Some of the other dolls often moved a little at a time, changing their expression or shifting their position, but Otoku almost never did. She hated spending so much energy, she said.

And that should show you how important this is!
she sent. She looked like any other doll now, completely still, but Simon carefully raised her up to eye level.

“Otoku, I am—”

“SIMON, SON OF KALMAN, REPORT TO THE QUEEN FOR ASSIGNMENT. SIMON, SON OF KALMAN, REPORT TO THE QUEEN FOR ASSIGNMENT.”

At the bellowing voice, Simon stumbled, and Otoku spilled from his palm. He snatched her out of the air in time, before she landed in the graveyard grass. The last time he had placed her on the ground, she had complained for days about the grass stains in her dress.

The loud rock will die,
Otoku promised.
I’ll see to it. Simon, kill that crystal for me.

I don't think Leah would like that very much,
he sent. But he was already tempted. If this kept up for another ten minutes, the communications crystal would likely end up as nothing more than shattered glass.

Otoku, would you mind helping me look for this mask? It would go a lot faster if—

Oh, I see!
the doll sent.
When
you
want something, it's 'Otoku, would you mind? Otoku, please help! Otoku, I'm worthless without you!' But when I abase myself and beg, do you save me from the hideous white-haired beast? You do not!

Simon raised Otoku up to eye level again. She was sitting now, as usual, but she hadn't lost the scowl. “Otoku,” he said aloud, “would you mind? Please help. I'm worthless without you.”

Well,
she said,
when you put it like
that...

“It's good to hear you finally admit it, Simon,” Indirial said, walking up behind Simon and clapping him on the back. “Humility is good for the soul, they say.”

Simon blushed, and he couldn't think of a clever response.

“I'm here to pick you up,” the Overlord said. He nodded to the floating silvery-white crystal. “I told Leah that I'd go myself, but she insisted on sending that thing in first. I followed as soon as I could, but you know how time works here.”

Indirial put his hands on his hips and looked around the graveyard, smiling broadly. “Maker, it's been a long time since I've seen this place. Who's the guardian now? I thought the Eldest—”

Simon, stop him!

He should have seen it coming. But only with Otoku's warning did Simon have the time to call essence and throw himself at Indirial. Indirial was still faster. Simon avoided snatching the edge of the older man's trailing black cloak as he shot like a dark comet toward the master who had betrayed him.

The master he had, twice now, seen die.

Valin's expression didn't change. He held the infantry sword out casually in front of him, but he didn't have the strength to move. Indirial didn't have Vasha with him, but he had produced a knife from his cloak almost big enough to double as a sword. If the Overlord slit Valin's throat, would Valin die? Would he fade away? Would he regenerate?

Simon had no idea, and he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to stop it from happening. What did it matter to him if the Wanderer was destroyed again? In the end, that might make his life easier.

A blast of dark smoke exploded at one end of the room, like someone had slammed a hammer into a pile of ash. Simon had a hard time following the smoke's path, even with the Nye essence in his lungs, but it flowed from the edge of the room over to the Wanderer, then exploded again in another burst of black smoke.

And Kai was there, standing
inside
the smoke, his own short sword raised to catch Indirial's blow. With a heave of his whole body, Kai turned the strike aside.

“We need him now, so let him go,” Kai sang. Valin put his own sword down, his expression amused.

The two students of the Dragon Army stood there for a long moment. Indirial was dark and black-cloaked, crouched on the ground, staring at Kai as though trying to decide whether to spring up and bury his dagger in the other man's throat. Kai stood straight, by all appearances relaxed, an infantry sword held reversed in his left hand. Clumps of white hair hung down into his eyes, preventing Simon from reading his expression. The air burned with tension, and Simon was afraid that, one way or another, he was about to see a good man die.

“SIMON, SON OF KALMAN, REPORT TO THE QUEEN FOR ASSIGNMENT. SIMON, SON OF KALMAN, REPORT TO THE QUEEN FOR ASSIGNMENT.”

Indirial staggered forward a step, and Kai cocked his head toward the crystal. Simon raised his hand on instinct, almost ready to smash the Lirial stone out of sheer reaction, but Leah had impressed upon him, more than once, exactly how rare and expensive communication crystals were. Granted, they normally didn't
shout in his ear
every minute.

But this one had distracted Kai and Indirial long enough to keep them from killing one another, so he could hardly complain.

Valin waved his hand in front of his face, dispelling the cloud of black smoke. He wore an expression of distaste, like he had bitten deep into a rotten fruit. “You called the smoke, Kai? Really?”

“I never was a friend of the Nye,” Kai replied smoothly. “Even if the Eldest won't share his toys with me, I still need something for speed. Don't you think? Now that I have it, I can't believe how I went so long without it.”