City of Light (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (55 page)

The second person was also a Valinhall Traveler, but much older. Kathrin was in the middle of swinging a giant mirror-bright hammer at Ornheim’s stone kneecap. A mask of blood covered her forehead, and her snarl made her look as though she wished she could bite the Incarnation in half.

The other two people were his sisters.

Ilana, five years older than he was, stood ten paces away with a bow in both hands. She had hardly touched a bow in years, but this one was made of some golden wood, and she was fitting a gleaming arrow to the string. One small, dog-shaped golem had been impaled through its gemstone eye by a shining arrow that matched the one Ilana held in her bow.

That brought him to his little sister, Shai. She had the same bored expression she always wore when she was intensely interested in something.

And she was wielding a strip of Violet Light in each hand, like a pair of whips. Piles of rubble sat at the end of the light, as though she had reduced a group of golems to inanimate gravel.

“She’s…alive,” Alin said, his voice unsteady.

Practically glowing with pride, Rhalia drifted over to watch his sister. “Back in Myria, when you opened the Gates to Elysia, I was able to bring her inside. She needed a lot of attention in the Rose District, but I kept her in the City. Safe from Naraka, and from you.”

Indignant anger welled up in him for a moment—
I would never hurt her! She’s my sister!
—before he crushed the feeling down. All things considered, Rhalia had made the right call.

“Thank you,” Alin said. “You probably saved her life.” Another thought occurred to him, and he almost dared to hope. “What about Tamara? Did you save her?” He had seen his oldest sister die, but if Rhalia had managed to heal Shai…

Rhalia shook her head, but she said nothing else.

Alin’s hopes fell, but Green patience saved him from grieving anew. Instead, he focused on the sister in front of him, the family that had been miraculously restored from death. “Is she a Traveler?”

“It wasn’t uncommon, back in my time, for there to be two natural Elysian Travelers from the same family.” Rhalia kept her words quiet, studying Alin as if to gauge his reaction.

“What about the prophecy?” he asked.

Rhalia sighed. “That was after my time, but I can make a good guess. The fact that there was a prophecy at all suggests that Avernus was involved. Strigaia-tribe owls can see the future, but only in vague, specific pieces. I have no doubt that you were the boy some Grandmaster Avernus once predicted would free the Incarnations. And so you did. You even killed King Zakareth, which may or may not have been part of the same prediction.”

But that doesn’t mean those things were good,
the Silver Light pointed out.
Nor does it mean you’re the only one.

“Call Violet,” Rhalia suggested. “Tell me the truth. What does this make you feel?”

“Relieved, that my sisters are alive,” Alin said, through a haze of Violet honesty. “Confused. And…disappointed, because I thought I was the only one. I wanted to be the hero.”

Rhalia looked back at Simon, who was still inching forward through the frozen moment. “You can be.”

***

You’re out of time,
Caela said.

Simon slammed Mithra into King Zakareth’s back, knocking him through the gold-edged Gate and into the City of Light.

I know,
Simon sent.

Something else blasted past him into the portal, something orange and gold and glowing, but he didn’t get a good look. All his attention was focused on his enemy, as he threw himself through the Gate and after the King. There was even a battle going on around him—he vaguely noticed Kathrin fighting a huge, white golem—but he ignored it.

If he was about to die, he wanted to do it while taking Zakareth’s head from his shoulders.

I wanted to tell you…
He hesitated. He’d never been good at saying the right thing, but he had to try. When would he get another chance?
Of all the swords I could have gotten, I’m glad it was Azura.

So were we,
Caela whispered. It was hard to tell, with her shifting, windy voice, but she sounded on the verge of tears.
You were so much better than Kai.

***

Alin hurtled through the streets of the City of Light, blasting past shops and homes and towers. In seconds, he reached the heart of the city.

Please don’t be too late,
he said to himself. He would have hated to do all this for nothing.
Please don’t be too late, not too late…

Relax,
the Green Light told him.

He spun around, surrounded by colored doors. He saw the violet, the red, the orange…and there. So small and shabby that it looked like it belonged on a garden gate.

The White Door.

He twisted the handle and pulled, flooding the room with White Light. For a moment, he panicked: this hadn’t happened when he opened any of the other doors! The power washed his mind clean, swallowing him whole.

For what felt like an eternity, he drifted on an endless sea of white. All his concerns melted away, and for the first time since he gave up his humanity, Alin finally relaxed.

After a time, the White Light asked him a question.
What do you want me to do?

From deep within him, the other virtues of Elysia responded.

Defeat the enemy,
the Gold Light said.

Protect our allies,
said the Orange.

Give us peace,
said the Green.

Finish the battle,
said the Red.

Help us save the day,
said the Violet.

The White Light was quiet for a long time, though Alin himself floated in complete peace.

Those are all wonderful goals,
the White Light said gently,
but it’s not about you.

And everything was silent.

Finally, the Gold Light spoke up. It sounded almost reluctant.
Simon has proven his valor,
it said.

He needs help,
said the rose.

I’d like to have your power myself…
the Violet began.

…but you should give it to him instead,
the Blue finished.

Help Simon,
said the Silver Light.
Give him whatever he needs.

And, floating on White Light, Alin agreed.

That, I can do.
The White flowed out of him, draining his strength, carrying it away…to Simon.

***

Helgard was coming after her, but Leah sealed the Incarnation’s legs in a quick layer of crystal before tumbling through the Gate.
 

It was all chaos and madness inside. The Ornheim Incarnation had summoned a bunch of golems to fight Kathrin and Andra and what looked like Alin’s
sisters,
one of whom was laying everything around her to waste with a couple of glowing violet whips.

Setting aside her shock at seeing the two sisters both alive and in Elysia, Leah stared at the most horrifying thing she could see.

The huge, dark chain stretching away from Simon’s neck, leading into the distance.

To her Eye of Ages, each link in the chain was as wide around as a wagon, binding Simon closer and closer to his Territory. That chain was almost complete, and she knew with instinctive certainty that as soon as it snapped shut, terrible things would happen. Certainly terrible for Simon, and possibly for all of them.

He was facing her father, so Leah summoned the Lightning Spear. To her shock, it came spinning through the air toward her—King Zakareth must have been even more surprised by Simon than she was.

She snatched the Spear out of the air, preparing to throw…

…and then the chain turned white.

Not just the spectral chain that she saw through her crimson eye, either. All the black chains on Simon’s skin glowed a pure, bright white, and white light blazed from the eye sockets of his mask. Was he Incarnating?

The dark chain stretching out from his neck dispersed and blew away like the memory of smoke. Meanwhile, Simon glowed white.

Leah heard a cry, and she looked down to see the doll in the blue dress and bonnet sitting on the grass next to her. Caela.

What’s happening?
the doll asked, in her mind.
We thought he was going to die, so he left me here. What’s going on? Did he call too much?

“I don’t know,” Leah said, studying the scene through her Eye. “I don’t see the chains of Valinhall on him anymore. Wherever he’s calling that power from, it’s not the House.”

As she spoke, something faded into existence behind him. She could barely see it with her Eye of Ages, but it was becoming clearer every second: a winged sword, point-down, on a field of white.

Elysia.

***

If this was how death or Incarnation felt, Simon liked it.

Before, he’d felt as though the powers of Valinhall were flowing through him with the strength of a river. Now, it felt like a placid ocean. He could draw as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, and it would never run dry.

He never wanted the feeling to go away.

With Mithra’s dull edge, he knocked the Lightning Spear out of Zakareth’s hand. Immediately it spun away, hopefully over to Leah. The King struck out with his shield, intending to knock Simon backwards, but he caught the rim of the shield in one hand and tore it away, tossing it to the grass.

Andra shouted behind him, and it occurred to him that he should be back there.

His body moved as soon as he had the thought, and he was standing in front of Andra and Kathrin. They had already knocked the Ornheim Incarnation over onto his back, but he was still flailing around with a rocky hammer.

Simon brought Mithra forward, idly noting as he did so that the line of gold in her center had turned a bright, vivid white. He slid the Dragon’s Fang in and out of Ornheim’s head, as simply as slipping it into a pool of water.

The Incarnation fell apart.

Then Simon was moving again, over to Helgard, who still stood in the border of Elysia and the outside world. He struck at her, but his blow was turned by a staff of black ice. His blade sent a chip spinning off into the distance, and he attacked even faster than the bar could react, slashing at Helgard from the other side.

Then a
second
shaft of dark ice flew out of nowhere, blocking his other strike.

The two bars worked in unison, spinning with impossible speed and turning his every attack. No matter how fast he moved, it didn’t matter; there was always one in the way. Helgard stood with both her blue-skinned hands out, her frozen eyes narrowed in concentration as she bent all her power to warding him off.

A red blade emerged from her stomach.

The two bars of ice quivered in the air for a moment, then fell to the ground. Helgard put two fingers to the blood on her stomach, then raised the fingers to her eyes.

“Fascinating,” she murmured. Then she fell over.

Erastes pulled the crimson Ragnarus blade from the Incarnation’s body and wiped it on the grass. “I knew I’d find a use for this,” he said.

Simon laughed and ran out the Gate, chasing the final Incarnation.

Lirial was floating away as fast as she could, which wasn’t nearly fast enough. He caught up with her in a handful of seconds, but she spun toward him and flared with white light.

His eyes felt like someone had stabbed them with steel picks, and he was flash-blinded, but that hardly made a difference.

Caela,
he called.

I still want to know why you’re not dead,
she said.
Above you, and a little to the left.

Simon leaped, Mithra spinning in his hands.

When he landed, the Lirial Incarnation followed him a second later. She hit the cobblestones in three pieces, each of which shattered like thin glass.

Those white chains look good on you,
Caela observed.
You should keep them.

I will if I can,
Simon said. He’d found that power like this never lasted, but it would be nice if this was the exception.

When Simon returned to Elysia, King Zakareth was holding the crimson Ragnarus blade in both hands. Erastes had the good grace to look ashamed.

For someone facing down a growing half-circle of opponents, the King didn’t look afraid. Andra, Kathrin, Erastes, Shai—wait a minute, was she an Elysian Traveler now? It looked like she was using one of Alin’s powers—Ilana, and Leah stood facing the Ragnarus Incarnation, each of them brandishing their weapons.

Simon stepped out, Mithra held loosely in one hand.

“Seal yourself in the Vault,” Simon said. There was no sense in making it any more complicated than it had to be. “If you do, I’ll let you go.”

Zakareth looked over to Leah. “Remember this, Leah. This is exactly why you save up power for emergencies.”

With his spare hand, he reached up and grabbed the huge ruby at the center of his breastplate.

Then he crushed it in his fist.

Crimson light flowed like blood from the center of the breastplate, highlighting each plate in the armor. All of the rubies he wore started to glow like stars, and even the fire in his left eye socket flared. He lifted the Ragnarus blade.

Erastes!
Caela cried.
Simon, he’s going for Erastes!

With all the speed he could draw, Simon hurled himself toward Erastes, even though he didn’t see how the King could possibly get there before him.

One instant, King Zakareth was standing on the ground ten paces away, and then he was lunging straight at Erastes’ chest. Simon got there in time, turning the red blade with Mithra’s edge.

Alin’s sister!

Which one?
Simon screamed in his mind, but Caela didn’t know their names, so he dashed toward Shai. This time, he’d guessed right. He managed to catch this blow on Mithra, but it took both hands. Zakareth struck with so much force that Simon felt his feet being driven down into the soil.

“This is the power that the blood of thousands will buy you,” King Zakareth remarked.

Then the King was gone again, and Simon had to follow, desperately hoping his increased power would last longer than the Ragnarus Incarnation’s.

***

Leah almost threw the Lightning Spear, but Murin screamed in her ear. Her mental projection—that throwing the Spear would be a bad idea—seemed unnecessary considering the bird’s sheer volume.