The Lightning Wastes (The Traveler's Gate Chronicles: Collection #3) (3 page)

BOOK: The Lightning Wastes (The Traveler's Gate Chronicles: Collection #3)
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She shook her head and stepped through the Gate. Back in Myria, she had so often wished that Simon would act with a little confidence. Now, she wanted the old Simon back. If only to have someone around who was more uncertain than she was.

She stepped through, and had only an instant to observe the landscape—a flat, cracked wasteland of yellow sand stretching as far as she could see, beneath an overcast sky—before something hit her ribs like a kick from a horse. She tumbled backwards, caught a glimpse of a blinding flash in the sky, heard thunder loud enough to tear her ears apart, and then she was slamming into the unyielding ground. Her breath whooshed out of her, and she gasped for air, clawing for the weapon she had dropped.

“Whew,” Helene said, grinning into Leah's face from two inches away. “Close one.”

It all came together: Helene had tackled Leah out of the way. Of what? Leah rolled to one side to see a smoking black scorch mark on the sand for an instant before the wind whisked the char away, leaving clean sand in its wake.

“Surely that would have missed me,” Leah said. The bolt looked like it would have hit several paces off the mark.

“Lightning works a bit different here than it does in the other world,” Helene said, pushing herself to her feet. “But it still carries along the ground. It doesn't have to hit you straight on. Even being too close to a bolt can kill you.”

Leah realized she was shouting, both over the ring in Leah's ears and over the constant howling of the wind. The storm caught strands of Leah's hair and flailed her face with them, forcing her to constantly hold her hair back. She hadn't even managed to stand up yet.

Simon walked through the Gate a moment later. Leah was on the ground, covered in sand, trying to keep her face clear of her own hair. There was a scorch mark two paces from the Gate. Helene was still brushing sand from her pants.

“What happened?” he asked, in all innocence.

“Never mind,” Leah called over the wind. Then the sky above her turned from a cool gray to jet-black in little more than an instant. She scrambled out of the way, imagining another lightning bolt blasting her to smoking pieces, but Helene didn't move.

An instant later, a waterfall of rain blasted Leah, soaking her to the bone in a second. Her crimson dress—formal attire, for when she was acting as Queen—deflated, fabric clinging to suddenly ice-cold skin. Her hair went from flapping around her face to hanging in front of her eyes in a sodden mask.

Then, after only a moment, the rain stopped.

Leah peeled hair back from her eyes to see that Simon and Helene were still standing in the exact same places, bone dry.

Helene shrugged. “That happens,” she said. “Let's go.” Then she started to trudge across the desert.

Leah couldn't remember the last time she had felt so embarrassed. She must look ridiculous. At least there was no one around to see. Well, Simon, but he hardly counted.

Simon let out a choking noise that might have started as laughter, and he was clearly losing the struggle to keep a smile off his face.

She raised one eyebrow at him, as her aunt would have done. “Well?”

Without saying a word, Simon walked over to her and extended a hand to help her up. He was still smiling, though, so she ignored him, instead searching around for the weapon she had dropped. When she found it, she shoved it into the ground and used it to prop herself up without Simon's help.

As Simon looked at the gold-headed, black-hafted Ragnarus spear, his smile faded. “Do you really think you're going to have to use that?”

“If I do,” Leah said, pushing hair out of her face, “then your presence here will become unnecessary.”

Simon nodded seriously, and together they began walking after Helene. A few more seconds passed, during which Simon wisely kept his mouth shut. Then his wisdom evidently ran out.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked.

Leah shoved him with the butt of her spear.

***

The Endross outpost looked like a primitive fort. The wall was fifteen feet high and made of logs with the bark still on, lashed together by brown vines. A network of square wooden towers showed above the walls, each one made of rough-hewn timbers. The entire outpost was a square, not a circle as Leah had expected, and from each corner rose a tall metal spike.

“It’s to catch the lightning,” Helene explained, when Simon asked about them. “Funnels them into a…you know what? I’m not supposed to talk about it. Keeps the whole place from burning down, that’s all you need to know.”

Two Travelers, a man and a woman, stood guard outside the outpost gate. The woman was dressed in what Leah would expect from one of the Badarin desert people: her head was wrapped in a white cloth, she wore loose-fitting, pale-colored garments, and the pommel of her sword had no bare metal showing. The man dressed more traditionally for Endross Travelers, in a leather breastplate and leather-padded leggings, with a leather cap. A necklace of what looked like lion’s claws hung down over his chest.

He smiled broadly when he saw them, baring all his teeth like a maniac. “Who goes there.” It was a statement, not a question, delivered in the most evil, threatening voice Leah had ever heard.

Without being asked, Helene announced them in a clear, ringing voice. “Her Highness Leah the First, Queen of Damasca, seeks an audience with the leader of this outpost.”

Leah wasn’t ‘seeking an audience’ with anyone. She was demanding the presence of whoever currently commanded this outpost, so that she could get her Travelers back. However, Endross Travelers seemed unlikely to appreciate a political distinction, so she let it slide.

Simon stood to her right, and at some point he had raised the hood of his cloak. She found herself oddly comforted to have him there, even though—as she reminded herself—she still had her father’s spear. Surely that would be enough to deal with anything an Endross pulled.

The man lost his smile, and the woman pulled a cloth away from her mouth to whisper in his ear. Her expression said she had never smiled, and did not expect that trend to change anytime soon.

The man cleared his throat. “You would be looking for Corthis, then. He’s the strongest around here. But you’ll have to prove who you are.”

Leah and her companions stared at the guard. Before they reached the outpost, Leah had arranged her crown on her head: a silver circlet set with a large ruby. The gem gleamed and pulsed with its own ruby light.

Hefting the spear, Leah took a step toward the guard. “You want to see proof of my identity?” she asked quietly. With a touch of her will, she prepared the circlet for action. It flared with a harmless red light; the crown wouldn’t activate without more effort on her part, but it still looked impressive.

The male guard took two steps back. Then one more, just to be safe. The woman stayed where she was, but she cringed from the light nonetheless.

“Sorry, my Queen, I didn’t recognize you,” the man croaked. “Enjoy your stay in the outpost.”

With a shockingly loud voice, the woman bellowed for someone on the other side of the gate to let the strangers in.

Leah let the light in her crown die and strode in, following a chuckling Helene, and followed by a silent Simon, who had taken the rear without being instructed. Perhaps he might grow into the bodyguard business after all; half of it was simply looming behind his employer, letting people know that he was there without saying a word. Granted, that would be easier for him if he were two feet taller, or if he had more of a reputation. Or if people even knew what a Valinhall Traveler was.

But she saw some potential.

Corthis, it turned out, was in the very back of the outpost, in a building that looked like a wooden amphitheater. He sat in a raised box above the stadium, which were packed with roaring Endross Travelers. And, for that matter, roaring Endross creatures. Snakes slithered among the feet of the stomping fans, deftly avoiding being crushed by their masters. Something that looked like a reptilian panther wove in and out of the shadows beneath the stadium supports, its coat occasionally crackling with blue sparks. Tiny storm drakes flashed in glittering swarms above the crowd.

As Leah stepped inside, she got her first glimpse at why the Travelers were all cheering.

The floor in the center of the stadium was bare, packed Endross sand. Two big men in torn leathers, presumably both Endross Travelers, circled each other in the ring. They were scratched, bleeding, and unarmed. One of them roared and charged like a bull, slamming his shoulder into his unprepared opponent’s middle. He didn’t stop there. He kept charging until he hit the short wall marking the edge of the floor. He slammed his opponent’s body into the wall, flipping the other man up and into the spectators on the other side.

The watching Travelers loved that. They roared and stood, some of them literally glowing with excitement. Those few shone like bolts of lightning themselves.

A gong rang out, echoing through the stadium, apparently announcing the end of the fight.

After about five minutes of non-stop cheering, Corthis raised a hand. He had once been a truly enormous man, but now age was catching up to him. His hair and beard were as much gray as black, and Leah suspected that he hadn’t had his huge gut for long. But his arms were as wide around as Simon’s waist and thick with muscle.

“Men and women of the Wastes!” Corthis announced, his voice ringing like a town crier’s. “We have a royal visitor!”

A few people laughed, a handful even booed, but most stayed silent. Everyone in the stadium, even the bleeding man on the floor, turned to look at Leah.

Well, her parents had prepared her for nothing if not speaking in public. “I would speak with you, Corthis, if you represent these people. May I approach?”

Without waiting for a response, she walked toward the stairs leading up to Corthis’ box.

“Anything for my queen!” he shouted, and a dozen spectators laughed. Leah walked up into the box, her guide and her bodyguard following.

Up close, Corthis seemed to fill the entire box. Between his loud voice, his expansive gestures, and his physical size, he had a sense of presence that made him almost overwhelming. Also, he had a huge snake wrapped around the head of his chair, and he was leaning against it like a pillow. That was the sort of disturbing detail that she was sure he used to throw people off track.

“So, Your Highness, what can I do for you?” he asked smoothly, as soon as she entered the box. She did not let herself be rushed. Instead, she pulled up a chair, angling it so that she could look him in the eye.

“I suspect you know,” she said. “The Endross Travelers have settled here instead of seeing to their duties in the kingdom. We have an Incarnation running around loose, and none of your Travelers to help contain it.”

Corthis opened his eyes wide, as though startled. “Only one Incarnation? Why, this situation must be better than I’d heard! Let’s all pack up and go home right now!”

Scattered laughter from the nearby seats. Corthis was making no effort to moderate his voice.

“You are all Damascan Travelers. Your duty is to your country.”

“Let us speak seriously,” Corthis said, which had to have been a deliberate insult. “We have no Overlord above us. We cannot stand against an Incarnation. What are we to do? Who is to tell us our duty?”

Leah let a little heat into her voice; it was appropriate at this point. “I’ll tell you what your duty is not, Traveler Corthis: hiding while the citizens of Damasca die beneath the lightning of your Incarnation.”

Corthis smiled and spread his hands, not at all put off by her words. “I still see no reason why we should return to a devastated kingdom instead of staying here to secure our own lands.”

“Because I command it,” Leah said. She had intended to wait a little longer before playing that card, but he had set her up too well.

“And who are you to command me, little girl?” Corthis asked, amused.

Leah shrugged. She raised her voice to match his, letting her words echo through the stadium. “Let’s find out. You value bravery in combat here, don’t you? Let’s meet in the ring.”

She didn’t move, exactly, but she shifted so that the light caught the rubies set into her crown and spear.

Corthis coughed. “None of that, now, none of that. No one doubts the strength of Ragnarus, that’s for sure.”

A few people in the crowd murmured uneasily.

“But it’s not the strength of your Territory that’s in question,” he continued. “And what is the strength of a leader if not the strength of his men? Let’s test two of yours against two of mine, and see who comes out on top.” He smiled as though he had finally trapped her. In that moment, she almost pitied him.

Endross Travelers had a reputation for being brave, vicious, and slightly insane. They were also known to be stubborn, stupid, and notoriously predictable.

Leah saw nothing here to refute that belief.

“Agreed,” Leah said, pretending to be reluctant. Helene, to her credit, didn’t hesitate. She loosened the sword at her side, checked a couple of knives, and walked down the stairs to the center of the stadium.

Simon, on the other hand, stopped and gave Leah a questioning look, which was
not
the image she wanted to present in public. He should have given every appearance of accepting her orders without question.

“You’ll be up here alone,” he said, in a low voice, which made it a bit better. Her bodyguard was supposed to worry about leaving her unprotected.

“Don’t worry about that,” Leah said, loud enough that Corthis could hear her. “I have nothing to fear from him.” It was true; she could activate her crown as quickly as she could speak, she held her Ragnarus spear in her hand, and she had a couple of other surprises prepared in her pockets. She could handle a couple of ordinary Endross Travelers.

“He’s right here, though,” Simon said, in the same low voice. “Why don’t we just deal with him?”

What did he mean by ‘deal with?’ Did he literally mean make a deal with the man, or was he suggesting execution? Or perhaps torture? With Simon, she wasn’t sure.

“I have every confidence in your ability to ‘deal with’ anyone. However, please proceed into the arena and
do as your queen commands.

BOOK: The Lightning Wastes (The Traveler's Gate Chronicles: Collection #3)
4.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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