City of Light (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (46 page)

“Oh, right. It…I mean, he…she?” Now that he knew the Dragon’s Fangs could think for themselves, at least a little, what was he supposed to call them? “You should probably banish it and re-summon it,” he said at last.

Indirial smiled a little over the back of his chair. “You should hurry up about it. The King can seal them in the Vault, and then you’ll never get them back without his permission.”

Andra stuck one arm out, past the Gate, and in the entry hall Seijan appeared. It was half the size of Azura but roughly the same shape, with its shorter blade speckled with spots of what looked like ink. Andra glanced behind her and sighed with relief, then turned back to Kai.

“Take him straight to the pool,” Simon said.

Erastes nodded and started pulling Kai toward the hallway, but Andra hesitated. “Your doll said…”

“I don’t
care
what she said,” Simon snapped. “Take him to the pool.” Was he the only one who hadn’t given up yet?

Andra and Erastes pulled Kai into the hallway, and Simon glanced behind him. The top of Cana’s wall was little more than a ruin. Not only had chunks been broken, crushed, or sliced out of the stone, the evidence of the Incarnations’ presence remained: pools where the bricks had turned red, a cave where the rock had flowed into something resembling a natural formation, a stretch of tile shaped by Valinhall that had been shattered by Valinhall’s powers.

On that ruin lay three Dragon’s Fangs.

He’d dropped Azura when he needed to use the hammer, and there she sat, shining in the sun and almost seven feet long. A few paces away, Vasha—bigger and thicker, riddled with cracks—sat where it had flown from Indirial’s hand. At the foot of the Gate, in a pool of Kai’s blood, lay Mithra.

The Wanderer’s sword looked much like Azura except for the line of gold running up the blade from hilt to point. The three blades sat there, visible from the Territory, and Simon knew he’d need to pick them up. They were too valuable to leave sitting out in the open, but how was he supposed to carry them? He could banish Azura, but he wouldn’t be able to lift the others without calling steel. He wasn’t sure he could call on Valinhall at all so soon after using the mask, but even if he could, it might do to him what it had done to Kai.

He pictured spikes stabbing out of his skin from the inside, and shuddered.
I don’t want to die like that,
he thought, but then he stopped himself.

No. Kai’s not dead yet.

With a thought he banished Azura, and she appeared on the rack across from the Gate. He managed to bend over without falling, scooping up Caela and tucking her into his cloak. Then he looked for Indirial, to see if he could help.

His chair was empty.

He left minutes ago, Simon,
Caela said softly.
Did you not notice?

That was stupid. He was letting himself slip because he was exhausted, and all but powerless, and maybe about to pass out. So what? He wasn’t wounded. Kai had taken far more damage today than he had.

Caela shifted inside his cloak pocket.
It’s not just today. It’s all piling up on you, Simon. You need to stop pushing yourself.

The dolls were always trying to stop him from using the mask. He couldn’t fight an Incarnation without it on, certainly not the Valinhall Incarnation, so he would have to live with the risk until the danger was past.

He was trying to figure out another way to get the swords when the Eldest appeared in a flutter of black robes. “I hear you have lost another two of the swords,” he hissed. “Every time I think you have stepped forward, you show me that you have actually taken a step back.”

Simon met the Nye’s empty gaze, trying to project an image of confidence and strength. If he wanted the Eldest to take him seriously, he had to act like he was in charge. “I will get them back. I will get them all back. But you need to hold up your end of the bargain and save Kai.”

The Eldest paused for a moment, and then he began to chuckle. “You get one miracle out of me, and you begin to expect them on command. I am loath to disappoint you, O exalted heir, but Valin was an exception in more ways than one. It was no great thing to bring him back. I am more impressed that he managed to die at all.”

You know he’s right, Simon,
Caela said, but Simon didn’t let that sway him. The Eldest might sound convincing, but that didn’t mean he was telling the truth.
 

“You’ve bargained with me before,” Simon said. “Why not now? Do you want Kai to die that badly?”

“I don’t care how long he lives before he dies, but he was transformed halfway into an Incarnation. That is a death sentence. The merciful thing would be to put a chain around his neck right now.”

Simon forced himself to march forward and grab a double handful of the Eldest’s robes. He’d never tried to fight the Eldest directly, but he’d do what he had to for Kai.

“Save him!” Simon commanded.

“I cannot.”

Simon’s hands were shaking on the Nye’s robes, and he forced them to unclench. “I’d better…” he began, but he wasn’t sure how to finish.

What was he supposed to do?

Let’s go see him,
Caela urged.

Step by step, Simon marched down the hall, toward the bathroom. He felt like he was marching toward his own funeral, and his mind kept racing toward a way out. The Eldest had said Kai’s transformation into an Incarnation had been interrupted.

Because of Indirial,
Simon realized. There could be only one Incarnation at a time. Just because Indirial had been sealed into the Territory, he hadn’t lost all his powers yet. So what if Simon killed Indirial? Would that help Kai?

Simon shook his head, forcing his thoughts back in line. That wouldn’t help Kai, it would only put Simon in the same situation. He didn’t want Indirial to die either.
None
of them should have to die; this whole situation was ridiculous! He wasn’t even sure why they’d been fighting in the first place.

It all came back to Valin’s question:
What do you want?

Why was he fighting? What was he willing to fight for?

To keep Kai alive,
he resolved.
That’s a good enough reason for anyone.

We’re here,
Caela announced.

No, we’re not. We’re still in the hallway. The bath is still...

Then Simon realized that the seventh bedroom, his bedroom, had been torn open. Andra and Erastes stood within, and they’d been joined by Caius, Lycus, and Olissa. The five of them stood in a half-circle around Kai’s bleeding, transformed body.

But that wasn’t what held Simon’s attention. The floor was scattered with walking dolls. Walking, moving,
broken
dolls.

Rebekkah’s arm was bound in a sling that it looked like she had tied herself. As he watched, she tossed her red braid back over her shoulder and tightened the sling with her teeth. He hadn’t known that she could move her jaw.

And there, Angeline was carrying Lilia on her back. Both of Lilia’s feet had been crushed, and the hem of her flowing, white dress torn away. Gloria sat nearby, her hair and dress ruined, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as though to brush away real tears.

All of the dolls moved around on the floor; for the first time since Simon had seen the room, their shelves were completely bare. Even the dolls he hardly ever spoke with—Delia, Reka, Sara, the twins—they all moved and helped the injured.

Then he saw Otoku.

Kai clutched her to his chest, stroking what remained of her long, black hair. Half of her face had been shattered, as if with a hammer, and the remaining half stared up at the ceiling with an expression of mild surprise.

It finally hit Simon that he’d lost someone. Again.

Ever since he’d gotten his powers from Valinhall, he’d managed to save everyone who needed it. Now Otoku, who should have been safe, was gone. And Kai…

One by one, the dolls walked up to Kai. Some of the injured and broken had to help each other, but they each stopped and lay a hand on Kai’s forehead. Serious Angeline bent over to plant a wooden kiss in his hair, and the twins actually threw all four of their arms around him for a hug.

No one said anything.

When all the dolls had finished, they stood around Kai’s body in a complete circle, facing inward. Simon’s mind was still racing:
Were they doing something? Maybe they could save him.
He’d never understood the powers of the dolls—maybe
they
could bring Kai back.

He was surprised to realize that Caela had crawled up out of his cloak and was sitting on his left shoulder; he hadn’t felt her at all. And she never moved so much.

Good-bye,
she said, softly. Several of her sisters echoed her. Kai smiled, and he let out one last, contented sigh. “My little ones…” he said.

Then his hand, still brushing Otoku’s hair, stopped moving.

That was it. Simon had waited long enough. He called steel and stepped forward, brushing aside the nearest few dolls, reaching for Kai. He would pick the man up and drag him to the pool, no matter what he wanted, and if that didn’t work he’d take Kai to see Valin…

Somebody stood in his way, and Simon tried to push past, but he couldn’t. They were holding his shoulders, and they were just as strong as he was.

Erastes, he realized. Simon didn’t hesitate; he drove his fist into the old man’s gut.

Filled with steel, the soldier didn’t make a sound. He stepped in front of Kai, blocking Simon’s vision. “He’s dead, son,” Erastes said, his words characteristically hard.

Simon knocked his hands away and tried to push past, but Andra was holding his left side, and Erastes his right. He struggled against them for a moment before he realized it was useless.

You can’t do anything now,
Caela said.

No, he couldn’t.

And he cried for that as much as anything.

***

Leah walked into the middle of the Crimson Vault, standing between the rows of weapons on their marble shelves, with their delicately carved labels. She stopped in what she guessed was the center of the long gallery, and turned to the raven on her shoulder.

Murin purred, or the raven equivalent. It sounded like she was gargling birdsong, but Leah got the impression that the raven did sense another mind. Another sound, almost a soft bark, and Leah understood that this person was quite close.

It could be convenient, having a raven that could sense, read, and possibly manipulate thoughts. But Leah hoped that one day the bird would learn to communicate more clearly. Having to interpret each little sound, even with Murin’s mental assistance, was becoming a noticeable inconvenience. Still, at least she was getting better at it.

Leah looked around at Ragnarus, at the glittering weapons that surrounded her, and she raised her voice. “I’ve come to talk with you,” she said.

For a few seconds, only silence answered. Then a woman stepped into Leah’s view. She walked as if she had exited a door, but Leah could clearly see a straight hallway in either direction. There was no way for this woman to have hidden anywhere.

Even if she
would
blend in.

Her dress was scarlet light folded into waves of solid fabric, and her skin a dusky red that looked painted on. Her eyes were shaped like those of an ordinary human, which Leah hadn’t expected, but their irises were clearly red.

The former Ragnarus Incarnation put a hand on her hip and smiled with one side of her mouth. “I suppose you’re the daughter.”

“Queen Leah the First. And which of my ancestors are you?”

The red woman’s smile widened. “Queen Cynara, also the First of that name. A pleasure to meet you, Highness.” She bent her knees in an ironic curtsy.

Leah had been somewhat prepared for this. She’d already thought through all the possibilities of exactly
who
could be sealed beneath Cana’s Hanging Tree. It couldn’t be Queen Cynara the Second, since that Queen of Damasca had remained alive to seal the other eight Incarnations. That left either her mother, Cynara the First, or one of the Ragnarus Travelers of old, before the Vault was sealed by the Elysians and re-opened.

She had considered this possibility, but her expectations paled before the reality. She was standing before the first Queen of Damasca, the woman who had torn away the seal on Ragnarus, bound the Territory to her bloodline, defeated the last Elysian Incarnation in single combat, and formed Damasca into a unified nation almost singlehandedly. Leah had grown up hearing legends of this woman’s adventures, both historical and mythical.

So she was proud that her voice didn’t waver as she said, “The pleasure is mine.”

Cynara nodded, accepting the compliment. “You approached me. You wish to bargain?”

“I wish to stop my father.”

Leah’s hand brushed the ring-box in her pocket. Even a former Incarnation of Ragnarus would surely ask for payment, so hopefully a lost artifact of the Crimson Vault would do the job.

Queen Cynara paced slowly across the Vault’s broad floor, seemingly lost in thought. “There is the matter of payment…but we will get to that. How do you know you want to stop your father? Do you even know what he wants?”

“If he’s the Incarnation of Ragnarus, then he wants power,” Leah said. “He doesn’t care how or where he gets it, so long as someone pays a price.” Murin fluttered her wings and squawked, agreeing.

Cynara nodded, once. “True and wisely spoken. Still, why stop him? He would make a better ruler than some.”

Because he’s an insane, murderous Incarnation,
Leah thought. “Because I don’t trust his judgment,” she said.

“Ah.” Queen Cynara pondered for a moment, tapping a finger against her lower lip. “Take it from me, his judgment is certainly questionable. As was mine, until…recently. But you want more than to stop your father. Be specific.”

If that’s the way she wants it,
Leah thought. “I need the answers to three questions. What is my father planning? How do I stop him, and the other Incarnations? And how do I deal with the Incarnations as a whole?”

She wasn’t sure Queen Cynara would have an answer to the last question, given that she had apparently failed to control the Incarnations the first time around, but it would be worth comparing what she said to the Avernus Incarnation’s advice and then comparing notes.