The Gates of Winter (41 page)

“Others? What others?”

Deirdre turned around in the seat. “Vani and Beltan. They're both there, Travis. They came here to look for you.”

A sharp pain stabbed at his chest. They shouldn't have come. It was too dangerous here. They had to go back. All the same, joy filled him.

“Beltan,” Larsen said, arms crossed over her chest. “That was what he was called, wasn't it?”

Travis looked out the window. “You never even asked him his name.” He caught the ghost of her reflection in the glass: pale, haunted.

“We didn't . . . I didn't know I could communicate with him. Has he . . . how is he?”

Travis turned to look at her. “Different, Dr. Larsen. He's different now.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded.

They reached the hotel minutes later. On the way, Deirdre introduced them to the driver. His name was Anders, and he was her new partner.

“Where's Hadrian Farr?” Travis asked as Anders brought the vehicle to a halt.

“I honestly have no idea,” Deirdre said and got out of the car.

When they reached the hotel suite, the door opened before Anders could swipe the card key through the lock. But then, she was always watching, wasn't she?

Travis gazed into golden eyes. “Vani . . .”

She smiled, then lowered her gaze, as if suddenly shy of him. This astonished Travis. Vani was so strong, so full of danger, that sometimes he forgot how beautiful she was, how small. He coiled her inside his arms, and he could feel her trembling.

“You smell,” she said, laughing as she pushed him away.

“And you don't look too good, either.”

Travis glanced up, and he was certain his heart couldn't bear the sight before his eyes.

“Oh, Beltan.”

The blond man grinned, an expression that transformed his usually plain face. “You didn't think you could get away from us that easily, did you?”

Travis could only shake his head. Beltan's grin faltered, and then he was there, catching Travis in strong arms, holding him so tight it hurt, but Travis didn't care. He returned the embrace with all his might.

Beltan whispered fierce words. “By all the gods, don't you ever leave me again, Travis. Don't you ever leave
us
.”

I won't,
he wanted to say.
I swear it.
But his throat was too tight; he couldn't speak the words.

At last Beltan let him go. “By the Bull, Vani is right. When was the last time you had a bath?”

Travis scratched his scruffy beard and laughed. “I don't really remember.”

Deirdre glanced at Travis. “So, are you going to introduce us to your friend?”

Dr. Larsen stood near the door, her expression uncertain. Travis took a deep breath. How was he going to do this? “Everyone, this is—”

“You!” Beltan roared.

In three strides he covered the distance to Larsen, and before she could react he wrapped his big hands around her neck and squeezed. Her eyes bulged, and her fingers clawed at his wrists, but without effect.

For a moment shock paralyzed Travis, then he was moving. “Stop it, Beltan. Let her go—now.”

The blond man clenched his jaw. “No. Not after what she did to Ellie and the fairy. Not after what she did to me.”

Larsen's struggling was already growing weaker. Her skin was white, and her eyes rolled up.

“Vani!” Travis shouted. “Help me.”

However, the
T'gol
only crossed her arms over her black leathers. Deirdre stared, her expression one of horror. Anders reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. Travis shook his head. No one was going to die, not if he could help it.

He put his hands on Beltan's arms, not to pull them away, simply to touch them. They were hard and rigid. A light shone in the blond man's eyes: a faint green glow.

“Please, Beltan,” he said. “Let her go. Not for her sake, or for mine, but for your own. You said they tried to make you into a killer. Don't show them that they've won.”

Larsen was no longer struggling. She hung limply in the big man's arms. For a moment he didn't move, his face as hard as if carved of stone. Then a shudder passed through him, and Larsen slumped to the floor. Beltan stared at his hands. The fey light was gone from his eyes.

“What have I done?” he said softly. “By Vathris, what have I done?”

Deirdre was already kneeling next to Larsen. “Anders, help me.”

Together, they pulled Larsen up and sat her on a nearby chair. Her head lolled back and forth. Panic surged in Travis. She couldn't die. He needed her. They all needed her.

Larsen's eyes fluttered open, and a ragged breath rushed into her.

Travis touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I—” She winced, holding a hand to her throat. Her skin was already beginning to bruise. “I'm fine.” She looked at Beltan, her expression stricken. “I'm sorry. I know you can never forgive me, but I want you to know how sorry I am.”

Beltan tried to say something, but no words came out. He turned and hunched his shoulders. Travis started to move to him, but Vani was swifter. She placed her arms around Beltan. He resisted a moment, then rested his head on her shoulder.

Stunned, Travis simply stared as Anders fetched a glass of water. Deirdre helped Dr. Larsen sit up straight and drink it. Beltan had pushed Vani away. The knight moved to Larsen, kneeling before her chair.

“Ellie gave herself for me. If you made her what she was, then your work could not have been for evil.”

Tears streamed down Larsen's cheeks. She reached out a trembling hand and touched Beltan's face, and they stayed that way for a moment before he stood again.

“Well, that was all a bit on the awkward side,” Anders said, slipping his gun back inside his coat.

Travis let out a tight breath. “I thought Seekers didn't carry guns.”

“They don't.” Deirdre crossed her arms and gave Anders a sharp look. “At least, not usually.”

Anders winked at her, a grin on his craggy face. “I thought you knew by now I was anything but usual, mate.”

Larsen looked up at Travis, new fear registering in her eyes. “Seekers? These people are Seekers?”

Travis nodded. “That they are. And now we're going to have a good long conversation with them.”

“No,” Deirdre said. “First you're going to have a good long shower. Then we'll talk.”

Travis spent the next half hour standing under a jet of hot water, letting it wash away the dirt, the weariness, the fear. As he showered, he thought of Jay and Marty, and he hoped they were all right.

He toweled off, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater that Deirdre had bought for Beltan. They were overlarge for him—Beltan was taller, and Travis was stunned to see how gaunt he had become these last weeks living on the street—but they were warm and clean.

By the time he stepped into the suite's main room, he found the others talking and drinking coffee.

Beltan, who sat on the sofa next to Deirdre, gave an approving nod. “Now that's the Travis we know.”

A powerful compulsion rose within Travis to go to the blond man and hold him tight. However, he was aware of Vani standing at the window, her gold eyes locked on him. He poured himself a cup of coffee, then sat in a chair next to Larsen. She was no longer shaking, and color had returned to her cheeks. The computer disk gleamed on the coffee table before her.

Travis sipped his coffee; it was hot and delicious. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing much.” Anders leaned against the back of the sofa. “Just how all the signs point to the end of the world.”

“Oh,” he said, and took another sip.

They spoke until the small hours of the night, and more than one bleary-eyed bellhop was forced to bring a pot of coffee to their door. Travis listened, at once fascinated and horrified, as Dr. Larsen described in detail her research at Duratek: her work with Ellie and Beltan, and then later her assignment to synthesize the blood of the fairy.

After that, Beltan and Vani took turns explaining what had happened on Eldh since Travis left: how the Warriors of Vathris had begun to arrive at Calavere, and how Grace planned to march north with a small force to prepare Gravenfist Keep for their coming. Her bravery stunned Travis. It was strange to picture Grace as a warrior queen, yet he could.

Finally, Beltan answered the question burning on Travis's mind: How had Beltan and Vani followed him? Grace had figured it out, giving them the bandage she had taken from his arm, stained with his blood. It wasn't much, but it had been enough to activate the gate—a fact which frightened him. Was his blood, changed by the scarab of Orú, truly so powerful?

He could worry about that later. Right now he had to finish what he had come here for. Travis reached out and picked up the computer disk. “What exactly is on this thing, Dr. Larsen?”

“Proof,” she said.

Deirdre raised an eyebrow. “Proof of what?”

Slowly, Larsen reached out and took the disk from Travis. “Proof that Duratek is behind the drug Electria. Not just that they created it and are fully aware of its addictive powers, but that they're behind its illegal sale and distribution as well. It's how they've funded so many of their projects, the ones they don't want the auditors to know about. Projects like mine.”

Anders let out a low whistle. “I'd say that's enough to bring them down, and then some. They'll be banned across the globe.”

“They created Electria for fairies, to keep them alive here on Earth,” Deirdre said, twirling the silver ring on her left hand. “That it had euphoric and addictive effects on people was just a happy accident, wasn't it?”

Larsen nodded. “And one they were all too willing to exploit for profit.”

Anders pointed at the disk. “If you don't mind my asking, how did you get hold of that information?”

Larsen gave him an ironic smile. “Sometimes they forget that scientists are naturally curious. In their urgency to synthesize the blood of the being E-1, they gave us all the highest security authorization, so that we could quickly access any data we might need. I'm not exactly a hacker, but I'm pretty handy with a computer. I was able to snoop around and collect this information without them noticing.”

“But they'll know you have it now,” Vani said, crossing her arms. “They'll be searching for you.”

Larsen's smile faded. “Yes, they will.”

Anders cracked his knuckles. “So how do we keep them from getting the information back?”

“We let the genie out of the bottle,” Travis said, and the others stared at him. Couldn't they see it? It was so clear. “Right now the information is on that disk. We need to transfer it, to duplicate it.”

“You mean into copies?” Larsen said.

Travis stood up, pacing. “No, I mean into the minds of every person in this city, every person in this country. Once everyone knows the truth, Duratek won't be able to conceal it anymore.”

“That's it,” Deirdre said, her smoky jade eyes lighting up. “Duratek might deny the report, but there will be investigations. They won't be able to do anything without the government knowing.”

“Like launch an assault on Eldh,” Travis said. He glanced at Larsen. “Did you know that's what they intend to do?”

She gripped her coffee cup. “One of the executives—I never knew their names—he came to talk to me the other day. He told me there was a whole new world just waiting for us to use, to make a profit.” She glanced at Beltan and Vani. “It's your world, isn't it? He said that once they're able to synthesize the blood of E-1, they'll be able to open a door to that world. Only I don't know what that means.”

“They've created a gate here in Denver,” Travis said. “All they need is blood of power to open it.”

Deirdre glanced at Larsen. “Only you destroyed the results of your research, didn't you?”

“Yes,” Larsen said. “But I was just the first to realize the solution. Duratek has dozens of scientists working for them. It's only a matter of time until one of the other researchers finds the key like I did.”

“So how do we get the truth out there?” Anders said.

“I think I know a way,” Travis said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

Deirdre raised an eyebrow. “What's that?”

“The phone number of Anna Ferraro. She's a TV news reporter here in Denver. She'll do a report on Duratek and Electria for us, I know she will. Only . . .” He sank back to the couch. “Only she was fired from the TV station.”

“So she can go to another,” Beltan said, his expression hopeful. “There's more than one of these television channels in this city. I know—I've looked at them all.”

Travis held a hand to his head. “It's no good. None of the local TV stations will take her. They're all controlled by Duratek. And we'll never get out of this city, not now. They know I'm here.”

They had run out of words. All of them stared at the disk. They had everything they needed to stop Duratek from opening the way to Eldh. Everything except a way to get the message out.

Travis laid his hand atop Deirdre's. “Thanks for coming anyway. You must have broken every Desideratum there is by bringing Vani and Beltan here.”

Deirdre bit her lip. “Actually, I'm not sure about that. You see, our orders came from the Philosophers themselves. And there's—”

Anders prowled around the sofa. “And there's what, mate? Remember what we said about no secrets. Is there something you're not telling me?”

Deirdre gazed out the window. “I've been getting help with all this. I'm not sure who he is. He's never told me his name, but he knows things . . . things only one of the Philosophers could know. I think . . . no, I know he's one of them.”

“Crikey,” Anders said softly, his eyes going wide. “So that's why you've been so mysterious. You're getting all sorts of secret tidbits from one of the Philosophers. I can't blame you for keeping that under your hat.”

Deirdre winced. “Yes you can. We promised no secrets, right?” She picked up an envelope off the table. “He was the one who sent me this.”

“What is it?” Vani said, stalking closer.

“I'm not sure. Architectural plans of some building.” She pulled a large sheet of paper from the envelope and unfolded it. “I suppose he meant for it to help me, but I can't make heads or tails of it.”