The Gates of Iron

by David Debord

  “They will attack again before morning. The sooner we bring this to an end the more lives we will save. Now, everyone wipe their eyes and put on a brave face.”

  Oskar mopped his eyes, took a moment to straighten his robes and stood. “We will give you two a moment alone,” he said.

  When the door had closed behind Oskar and Aspin, Larris seized her by the wrists. “Marry me first,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Marry me right now, before we go. We’ll find someone to do the ceremony.” He hurried on. “I’m a prince and now you’re a queen. That’s what was stopping us before.”

  She reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek. If she had ever known pain before it was nothing like what she felt now. The one thing she wanted, above all else, was within her grasp and she could not seize it.

  “I will not leave you a widower. I know what it did to my father and I won’t do it to you.” She knew it would spare him no pain. If the shoe were on the other foot, her grief would be no less than if they were married, but it was all she could give him.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you.” They stood there gazing into one another’s eyes until she knew that if she didn’t do it now, she never would. “You should probably stay here. I don’t want you to see me...”

  He gently pressed his finger to her lips. “I will stay with you until the very end.”

  Chapter 53

  They moved quietly through the streets of Calmut. Everywhere they looked, soldiers stood guard but no one questioned them or tried to bar their way. After all, who would stand in the way of the Queen of Lothan, the Prince of Galdora, and four seekers, not to mention their armed escort?

  The sacred grove where she had once submitted herself to the Keeper of the Mists lay just beyond the walls west of the city. Though the Ice King’s forces had stayed clear of this area, they remained on their guard. When they reached the clearing where the standing stones framed the path beneath the sacred tree, they stopped and Aspin addressed the group.

  “When we begin the ceremony, we must assume that the Ice King will sense it and will do everything in his power to stop us from destroying the sword.” The others nodded, all apparently believing that was what Shanis intended to do. “King Lerryn’s elite guard is on patrol a short distance from here and all of his forces are on high alert. Oskar and Larris will come with us. I will need their help in completing the ritual. I am relying on the rest of you to guard our backs. You are our last line of defense. If anyone, or anything, slips past the king’s forces, it will be up to you to stop them. The fate of the world may rest upon it.”

  Shanis looked around at the others, all standing in a semicircle facing her. She took in each face, even the ones she barely knew. Her father, so ferocious yet so kind; Hierm, her best friend; Krion, the grandfather she had scarcely gotten to know; Allyn, so steadfast; Naseeb and Dacio, who were as loyal to Oskar as Allyn was to Larris; Lizzie, who clearly loved Oskar much more than the big oaf realized; Hair and Edrin, who had been there when all of this started; and Gillen and Heztus, whose loyalty to her never wavered.

  “Thank you all,” she whispered. “I can never repay you.”

  Colin and Krion came forward and the three shared a long embrace.

  “You will be fine, my girl,” Colin whispered. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll see you when it’s over.”

  Shanis managed a tight smile and turned away before her face betrayed her secret. Drawing her sword, she led the way into the mists.

  The mist wrapped around Pedric Karst like a shroud, hiding him in plain sight. He had crept into the city, his Galdoran cloak sufficient disguise to avoid rousing the suspicions of the defenders. The ferocity of the day’s battle seemed to have left everyone exhausted, with little energy left to question a solitary man walking down the street. Or perhaps it was something else.

  He seemed to have become a creature of the shadows. He could slide into the darkness and no one even knew he was there. Was he still completely human? He didn’t know.

  He had followed the call, that strange presence inside his mind, which told him where Shanis Malan was. He had been unable to get to her—her room was too closely guarded. But he had hidden in the shadows outside her window and he had listened.

  Upon learning her plan, he ran ahead and now lurked here in a place he knew all too well. The place where he had been disgraced. He would lie in wait for her and he would do his god’s bidding.

  He heard soft footsteps and he saw the faint outline of four figures moving through the mist. He drew his knife and tensed, ready to spring. When she came within his reach, he would plunge the knife into her heart and then his god’s will would be done. He, the chosen one of the Ice King, would be exalted above all others. He would have the favor of his god.

  His god...

  The god for whom his friend had been sacrificed.

  The god for whom his father’s life had been taken.

  The god for whom countless innocents had died on the altar.

  Once again, the blinding pain threatened to crush his skull. His head swam and his knees buckled. He caught himself against the slimy wall and leaned there breathing heavily. When he could stand again, the girl was gone.

  It didn’t matter. He always knew where she was. Keeping his knife at the ready, he crept along behind them

  Oskar didn’t know whether it was the chill mist or his own nerves that made him shiver. Under a different set of circumstances, he would have been fascinated by his surroundings, overwhelmed by this fabled place of the mists. But not tonight. Tonight he was leading his friend to her death. Grief welled up inside him and he shunted it aside. If he dwelled upon it, he would give in, and all might be lost.

  The ground beneath their feet was soft and steady as if they walked on a cloud. He lost all sense of time and distance as they moved forward through the swirl of white. Finally, without warning, the mists vanished and they stood in a clearing beneath a gray sky. Before them, a pool of quakewater encircled a small island upon which stood the largest tree he had ever seen. Ten men, arms spread wide, standing fingertip to fingertip could not have ringed it. Its height was beyond measure, its broad branches disappearing into the gray clouds high above. Strange, but familiar symbols were carved into its surface.

  “It’s a god’s tree,” Aspin said. “There are only a few like it in the world. This has to be the place.”

  “I’ve seen symbols like that before,” Oskar said. He frowned, trying to remember, and then it came to him. “There is one on our village green. In fact, Colin told me that the Ice King’s forces tried to destroy it when they attacked Galsbur.”

  “Perhaps the power of the god’s tree is needed to perform the ritual. If that is the case, then it would serve him to destroy as many of these trees as possible.”

  “This is all very interesting, but can we please get on with it?” Shanis said.

  Oskar almost managed a smile. Almost.

  Stone steps led across the quakewater and onto the island. Shanis led the way, and Oskar brought up the rear. He noticed that the mist followed them across and, by the time he reached the other side, it had closed around the island like a curtain.

  “I suppose we should begin,” Aspin said. “Shanis, give Oskar your sword.”

  “That isn’t going to work,” she said. “No one can hold it but me, remember?”

  Aspin nodded and scratched his chin. He looked around and his eyes widened. “Here.” He pointed to the trunk of the tree where an oddly-shaped hole was... not carved into the surface, precisely. It was as if the tree had grown around an invisible sword hilt.

  “It’s like it was meant to be,” Shanis whispered. She drew the Silver Serpent, reversed it, and slid the hilt into the hole. The sword locked into place. The blade now jutted out at a slight upward angle, its tip level with her stomach.

  Tears streamed down Larris’ face. He grabbed Shanis, kissed her hard, and then stepped away, hi
s hands tucked into his armpits as if trying to prevent himself from interfering.

  “Oskar, when I begin the ritual, direct your life force into the tree. Focus on the symbols.”

  Oskar nodded, unable to speak

  “Shanis, when we reach your part of the ceremony, you’ll repeat after me. And when we reach the end...”

  “Yes, yes, I know what to do.” If she were afraid, it did not show. Her face was a mask of determination.

  Aspin took a deep breath and began the ritual.

  Chapter 54

  Knife in hand, Pedric Karst crept toward the sound of the seeker’s voice. The mist grew thicker until he could scarcely see the ground beneath his feet. Cautiously, he moved forward until he found himself at the edge of a pool of quakewater. He hesitated. Had he gone in the wrong direction? The voice sounded so close. He must be in the right place.

  As he strained to see through the dense curtain of fog, a light began to glow. Brighter and brighter it shone as the seeker’s voice rose along with it. He could see faint shapes beyond the mist. One of them was Shanis Malan. He could feel her presence so close.

  The light revealed a stepping stone in the quakewater. This was the path she had taken. Moving on silent feet, he continued on. Finally, as if looking through frost-covered glass, he saw them.

  The Galdoran prince stood directly in front of him, facing in the opposite direction. To his left stood the seeker. The man was now deep into his ritual and his words had taken on the melodic tone of a chant. To his right, the younger seeker knelt staring at the sword, the hilt of which had been thrust into the tree. It was the sword that now shown with intense light.

  And in front of it stood Shanis Malan.

  In an instant, he understood. The conversation he had heard while eavesdropping on the house of healing made sense. She was the sacrifice! She was going to hurl herself onto the point of the sword. He could not let that happen. Killing her was his task. Gripping his knife tightly, he tensed, ready to attack.

  Wait.

  The Ice King’s voice echoed in his mind. It was muffled and seemed to come from a great distance away as if this place somehow served as a buffer between him and the power that drove him forward.

  You want me to kill her, he thought.

  No. Let her do our work for us.

  And the Ice King began to laugh.

  Karst stood frozen in place at the edge of the mist. He had come all this way and now his god did not want him to finish the task? It could not be.

  But the sacrifice...

  Her sacrifice means nothing to me. She is not the ruler of my nation. You are. She does not know that she is about to die for nothing. All of their work has been for naught. They are about to give me what I want.

  The Ice King laughed again, and the sound froze Karst’s marrow. In his mind’s eye, he caught a tiny glimpse of the Ice King’s thoughts.

  The seeker was wrong. The gods had been trapped inside the Silver Serpent because the greatest among their own worshipers had lain down their lives in sacrifice. When the girl threw herself onto the sword, she would accomplish one thing— she would remove the only remaining obstacle that stood in the Ice King’s way.

  Images flashed before his eyes: the Ice King’s power extending across Gameryah and beyond. Lines of people marched to the temple like lambs to slaughter, all for the sake of extending his power. They would die like Karst’s father had. He would move across the Sun Sands to the lands of the Far West, and then across the oceans. He would crush every nation beneath his feet. All would despair at his name.

  I did this, Karst thought. This is all my fault.

  The Ice King’s laughter stopped

  Come away from there.

  It was a command, but the Ice King’s words no longer held the powerful sway that it once had. The power of this place and the horror of his realization had restored Karst’s mind.

  Come away now!

  Karst teetered and almost fell off of the stepping stone. The power of the Ice King battled with his own overwhelming desire to stop this abomination he had created. He felt as if he were being torn in two.

  Come away or I shall come for you myself. I shall... The Ice King continued to speak, but his words grew fainter until Karst could not hear them in all.

  The future he had witnessed was beyond imagining, and he was the author of the destruction.

  My name is Pedric Karst, he thought. My father was Rimmic Karst.

  He remembered his father, saw again his death upon the altar of the Ice King. His father hadn’t believed in their horrible god. He had merely wanted to bring back his wife, Karst’s mother.

  His mother. And then another memory came to him the one memory of his mother that was stronger than all others.

  He was young, exactly how young he could not say, but he recalled with vivid clarity, sitting on his mother’s lap. Her arms around him holding him tight. She looked down at him, smiled, and kissed him on the forehead.

  “You are a good boy.”

  I am good.

  And then a powerful force like a physical blow drove him to his knees.

  The Ice King was no longer far away.

  He had come.

  “Why are they attacking the city?” Tabars asked. He gazed off in the direction of Calmut as if he could see through the gathering fog and the thick walls to the battle that had resumed on the far side of the city. They could hear the sounds of battle and see the flashes of light from the balls of fire hurled by the defenders. “I thought they would come for us.”

  “So did I.” Lerryn watched the sky with an unsettled feeling rising in his gut. Part of him felt he should be there, commanding his forces in the defense of the city, but he could not bring himself to cower behind the walls when here would be the battle that truly mattered. This was where he belonged. “Perhaps...” He broke off as shapes appeared in the mist. As they drew closer, he could make out their forms—ice cats.

  “The attack is intended to be a distraction. They believed if they could draw all our defenders to the walls, the way to the sacred grove would be open.”

  “I guess we showed them.” Tabars said.

  Lerryn glanced at Kelvin, whose face was white as milk. He had ordered the young man to join the defense of the city, but Kelvin had ignored his command. It looked as though he was regretting his rash decision. It was too late now. The ice cats stood between them and the city.

  Lerryn drew his sword and raised it high.

  “This is the moment!” he called out. “Do not let them pass!”

  A ragged cheer arose from the White Fang.

  “Sound the horn, Kelvin.”

  A short blast and the men of the White Fang rode forward to meet the enemy. They were young and inexperienced, Lerryn mused, hardly the measure of the veterans of the original White Fang that had followed him into so many battles, but they were good men who had served him well. He hoped at least a few survived this day.

  Bestial roars arose from the throng of ice cats. Frightened horses shied and whinnied while their riders shouted their battle cries as the two lines came together.

  Lerryn’s sword flashed and bit deeply into the nearest creature. All around him he saw ice cats fall, but he also saw soldiers pulled from their saddles and torn apart. There was nothing he could do for them except continue to fight. The battle raged on. Fur and blood flew. Shrieks and curses rent the night air. All around him ice cats and soldiers lay dying, but many fought on.

  “Some of them have broken through!” Tabars shouted

  “There’s nothing we can do. We have enough to deal with here.” Lerryn hacked the paw off an attacking ice cat, drew back, and thrust his sword through the beast’s throat. The remaining ice cats scattered and his men gave chase, hoping to run them down before they reached the grove.

  Larris wheeled his horse but stopped when a pale blue light shone in the distance.

  “What is that?” Tabars gasped.

  Time seemed to freeze. In an instant
, Lerryn took in the terrible sight. If the shadow of the Ice King with which they had done battle earlier had been fearsome, it was nothing compared to the reality of the towering figure that strode toward them. Where his shade had glowed, the Ice King burned with angry blue fire and wherever he stepped frost spread across the ground. His very presence was so powerful that Lerryn could scarcely look at him, but he forced himself to meet the god’s fearsome gaze.

  “That,” he said, “is how I will die.” He kicked his heels into Kreege’s flanks and rode out to meet the Ice King.

  Hierm heard a roar in the distance as if thousands of voices were lifted as one. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and he clutched the hilt of his sword for comfort. “I guess they’re coming.”

  To his right, Dacio laughed ruefully. “I’m wishing I had paid more attention in sorcery and less in history.”

  “You’ll be all right,” Naseeb said. “You are the best in all of our studies.” He made a thoughtful frown and then shook his head. “All right, not all of them but I still think you’ll be all right. We are, after all, students of the Gates.”

  “I’ll wager you a flagon of ale,” Allyn said, "that I kill more them than both of you combined.” He nocked an arrow and stared out into the fog with a sly grin on his face.

  “Will the three of you shut your mouths? I’m trying to listen,” Krion barked.

  “Peace father,” Colin said. “They are nervous. We all are.”

  Hierm glanced at Lizzie. The young thief clutched a knife in each hand and was trembling from head to toe. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. Take shelter in the trees until it’s over.”

  She turned her pallid face toward him. “Oskar is in there.” As if that ended the discussion she turned to stare off in the direction from which the cries had come.

  “Here they come,” Colin said. “Ice cats.”

  Closing on them fast, a line of the vicious creatures charged forward. Hierm had forgotten how fast they were. He couldn’t help but marvel at the speed with which they chewed up the ground between them.

  Allyn stepped forward and began firing. Again and again his arrows found their marks but a single shaft would not bring the beasts down unless it was perfectly placed. Just like the Ice King’s warriors that fought through until the bitter end, the will of their master drove the beasts forward.