by Wight, Will
Lycus' father, Caius, held a smith's hammer in both hands. He looked determined, but he had backed himself into a corner. He held the hammer out, as though it had the magical power to ward off Incarnations, and it looked like he was prepared to die fighting.
The Incarnation's helmet swiveled to look at Caius, and Lycus lunged forward, driving his sword into the base of the giant's breastplate, around the hip. That looked like a weak point, and there was no way he was letting this thing kill his father if he had a say in the matter.
The giant surveyed Caius for a second, then turned his gaze to a wooden table set with bags of precious stones. It swept the jewels off the table, then smashed its fist down into the wood, blasting the table to splinters.
Then it looked around, as though seeking something else to dismantle.
Meanwhile, Erastes plucked the hammer from Caius' grip. Holding the weapon one-handed, he jumped high enough to reach the Incarnation's head, driving the hammer down on its helmet.
Andra hacked furiously at the back of the giant's armored legs, trying to cut its feet out from under it, but as far as Lycus could tell, she was only scratching the metal.
Kai...still stood outside, in the forge, looking thoughtful.
Finally, the Incarnation caught sight of the blank patch of stone that held the hidden door to the gallery. Ignoring the futile attacks of the Travelers, it walked up to the wall and rubbed a palm over the wall, almost tenderly.
Lycus thought that it would hammer the wall into pieces, just as it had done the doors to the forge and workshop, but instead it reached out a finger and delicately flipped the disguised switch that opened the door.
The stretch of stone wall swung open to the tune of grinding machinery, and the Incarnation hummed in pleasure. “Efficiency,” it said, in its rumbling voice. “Excellent.”
Then it ducked, moving carefully to avoid wrecking the hidden door, and slid sideways into the gallery.
Lycus stared after it, wondering. Now that it was in the gallery, surrounded on two sides by stools and polished wooden bars, it appeared to be glancing around instead of attacking. It almost seemed like an interested foreigner, taking in the local sights. Like it was only pretending to be a monstrous destroyer.
Now that he thought about it, what was the Incarnation here for? It hadn't attacked the humans directly, instead moving deeper into the House. It hadn't tried to take anything, nor had it fought them seriously. It did nothing but move from room to room, breaking furniture almost absently, as if it couldn't be bothered to ruin a room completely before walking farther.
It didn’t come to kill us, Lycus realized. So why is it here?
He couldn't figure out the answer, but the question bothered him. He didn't follow the giant into the gallery, though Andra and Erastes did.
Well, they tried to.
Kai stepped forward, though Lycus hadn't seen him move out of the forge. He placed a hand on Erastes' shoulder, lifting his gold-and-silver blade to bar Andra's way.
Both of them stopped, looking at him.
“Please,” he said, bowing slightly. “Allow me.”
He swung his Dragon's Fang around to point it inside the door, so it didn't get caught on the doorframe, and then he followed his blade inside. He moved with smooth grace, as though he was only one step away from starting a dance.
Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised Lycus if Kai did start to dance. He was the strangest adult Lycus had ever met.
Kai stopped and glanced back into the gallery, where Lycus noticed that the black-haired doll was sitting on one of the few workbenches to survive the Incarnation's rampage.
“Otoku, if you please?” Kai said sweetly.
Lycus thought he heard a distant, windy voice let out a sigh.
Then Kai popped into a cloud of smoke, which rushed behind and above the Incarnation, re-forming into an image of Kai standing atop the giant's steel shoulders. Kai drove his blade down, into the top of the shoulder joint, where the armor should have been weakest.
Nothing. His blow did even less than Andra's had. The Incarnation didn't even seem to notice, except that he absently swung his Ragnarus sword above his head, swatting at Kai like a horse's tail sweeping away flies.
Kai leaped back, his head skirting the tall ceiling, and landed lightly on the bar. He began to chant, or possibly to sing, a little above a whisper. “Hush, little one, there's naught to fear. It's just the wind, that's what you hear.”
The Incarnation drove a steel fist at Kai so fast that Lycus couldn’t see it, but the Valinhall Traveler ducked out of the way as though he'd known the hit was coming.
“Hush, little one, it's not the end. Just put your trust in steel...and wind.”
Not for the first time, Lycus wondered if Kai was quoting something. Half of his little rhymes seemed made up on the spot.
Then again, there did seem to be something happening to his blade. It was almost invisible, like a heat haze in the desert, but the air warped around the Dragon's Fang. It twisted in transparent rivers around the sword's edge, and Lycus thought he could hear the rush of a breeze through the trees.
What power of Valinhall was that?
Kai jumped back up, onto the giant's shoulders. This time, the Incarnation seemed to be expecting it: the giant lifted its blade to drive into the Traveler's side.
Raising his own sword, Kai drove it down into the armor's shoulder joint.
At first, Lycus wondered why Kai had done it. The Tartarus armor had repelled his attack only seconds ago, surely nothing was different now.
Then he noticed that the Dragon's Fang was inches deeper than it should have been. It had driven through one of the weakest joins in the Incarnation's armor, the wound red-hot at the edges and dribbling molten steel.
Kai hopped back down to the floor, his blade still swirling with almost-visible wind. He ducked one of the Incarnation's slashes, then returned with an overhand cut of his own, landing on the wound he’d made in the giant's right shoulder.
He slashed through the metal, leaving glowing, heated links of steel chain in his wake. The Incarnation shouted, perhaps in surprise or pain, as its armored right arm slid off the shoulder, dangling only by a few bits of mail. The bronze, steel, and iron clockworks inside its arm clicked away, exposed to the air.
Humming to himself, Kai dodged a second punch from the creature's left hand. Then he took his blade in both hands, swinging with his whole body at the Incarnation's breastplate. He didn't bother aiming for a weak point, this time; he hit the giant square in the chest with the edge of his Dragon's Fang.
The Incarnation staggered back a step, grabbing a bar in its left hand for support. Kai kept pushing, long past the point where he should have realized that this wasn't going to work.
Then, to Lycus' shock, the edge of the Dragon's Fang actually pushed through the giant's polished armor. Kai's gold-and-silver blade tore through the breastplate and into the clockwork beneath, the edge of the wound dribbling melted steel.
Groaning, the Incarnation dropped to one knee. “You...” it groaned out. “Why...how...”
In one final motion, Kai sliced his blade all the way through the creature's chest. The sword emerged trailing drops of molten steel, and the Incarnation crashed to the ground in two pieces.
“Welcome to Valinhall,” Kai said lightly. Then he flicked his blade as if to clear it of blood, and placed the Dragon's Fang on the bar.
Lycus passionately wished that he could be half that strong when he grew up.
The swordsman's head cocked again, but he didn't turn back to look at Lycus. “You were kept by urgent business, I trust?” he said.
In a rustle of cloth, the Eldest Nye drifted past Lycus. His robes were stormcloud gray, where most of the Nye wore black, and his sleeves drooped down almost the length of Lycus' legs. Andra and Erastes seemed as surprised to see him as Lycus was; Erastes took one careful step back, and Andra hurriedly lowered her sword so that the Nye could glide into the gallery.
&nb
sp; He spoke to Kai, in his rasping voice. “You were here, as was the other one. I have more than a single matter to occupy my time.”
“You're dealing with something more interesting than the invasion of Valinhall?” Kai asked. His voice sounded humorous, as though he found the whole situation funny, but Lycus wondered if he might actually be furious.
The Eldest chuckled unpleasantly. “This? I would hardly call this an invasion.” His hood turned to the shadows at the corners of the room, and instantly a pair of Nye materialized, seemingly out of nowhere. Lycus had nothing to prove this, but he was sure they were the same two who had used their chains to try and slow the Incarnation down.
No one gave any orders, but the Nye bowed to the Eldest, then swept over to the Incarnation's body. It was still, though some of the gears still clicked and whirred. They began pulling plates off, removing gears, carrying them away.
“That will be valuable for study, I think,” the Eldest said. “Someone has given us a present. I can only wonder why.”
Kai nodded to the red-and-black blade that Lycus was sure came from Ragnarus. “What about that?” he asked.
The Eldest held one sleeve over the sword, just as Lycus might have held his hands up to a fire to keep himself warm. “Did he use its powers?”
With a shrug, Kai said, “He almost poked me with it once or twice.”
The Nye's head swept from side to side. “We can be certain that was not its only purpose. Why, then, is it here?”
Kai walked away, leaving his sword sitting on the bar. As he passed, he glanced up at the four masks, hanging on the wall by their racks. “There is only one thing I can think of that has changed in this House,” Kai said. “And the Incarnation headed straight for it.”
“I did not ask you for speculation,” the Eldest replied. “We will study the creature's body, and I will tell you what we find. In the meantime, be on your guard.”
Scooping up his doll with one hand, Kai laughed. “On guard? What would I do without your sage advice?”
He walked away without a word for any of the other humans, whispering under his breath to his doll. Caius was holding on to a table with both hands, trying to catch his breath.
Erastes and Andra looked at one another.
“I'm going to go challenge another room,” Andra said at last. “I've got a long way to go.”
The soldier nodded, and almost smiled. Andra hurried out of the room, clearly upset with herself. Lycus knew his sister well enough to leave her alone for the moment, until she stopped blaming herself for not being able to help.
And what about me? Lycus thought. I added nothing.
The thought made him ache even more for the powers and privileges of Valinhall, but he couldn't shake something else.
Why did it come here?
He couldn't think of an answer.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
PRICES PAID
Zakareth faced the gates of Cana with the Incarnations of Helgard and Lirial behind him. His ancestors had constructed this wall, including the massive metal doors set into the stone. He couldn’t begin to guess how many thousands of wagons and hundreds of thousands of people had passed through those doors over the generations.
He had always been proud of his family for bringing something like this into being, but since his…change…he had gained a new appreciation for these projects.
How much time had Queen Cynara the Second spent raising the walls of this city? How many workers? How many of them had died building defenses for their city, watering the stones with their blood? How many homes had gone untended, how many fields untilled, while these gates were formed and assembled?
It was all part of the price. If you wanted strong walls, you had to pay for them: in money, in time, in sacrificed opportunities. That was the way of the world.
Ragnarus simply made matters more…direct.
“Can you see them?” Zakareth asked.
“Of course I can,” Lirial chimed, amused. “I can see everything.” Her milky eyes stared through the walls of Cana, watching a battle in a Territory far away. “The time inconsistencies distort things, you realize, but Tartarus has been defeated. They are dragging his pieces away.”
Lirial’s crystal body shone a reflected red in the setting sun, the silver wire wrapping around her body burning with fiery sunlight. Helgard stood beside her, running a hand over the curling horns behind her ears. She stood in a small snow flurry that extended only a pace away from her; frost melted and ran in tiny rivulets at her feet. Zakareth wondered if she even noticed.
“And Elysia?” the King asked.
The melodic voice of the Lirial Incarnation grew distant. “It is remarkable. He has none of the control of his predecessors, but all of their power. He keeps banishing my probes. By accident, I’m sure, but it’s irritating nonetheless. And yet…the battle seems to have drawn to a standstill. Your Valinhall Overlord is badly injured, but still alive.”
“The time has come, then,” he said. With a thought, he summoned his crown onto his head. His shadow gained three tall spikes.
Lirial stepped into a sunbeam, her body becoming the crystal key to her Territory. In front of her, a Gate opened, swirling gray and silver at the edges.
“My constructions will guide you,” she murmured. “Travel quickly, before the moons shift.”
Zakareth stepped into the Crystal Fields without another word. He could tear his way free of any Territory, now, and the Lirial Incarnation would not be able to resist him once he escaped her Territory. She was afraid, and therefore she could be trusted. She would not lead him astray.
Helgard stood at his side, idly stroking the head of a furry, white, three-headed dog that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “So this is Lirial…it’s a bleak place, isn’t it? I wonder where the Daniri kept their tombs.”
She couldn’t hide the greed in her eyes, and she didn’t bother. It was in her nature, and they both knew it.
“This way,” Zakareth said, tracing the lines of power in Lirial to a tiny, floating crystal. It bobbed in their presence and sped off, not waiting for them to follow.
One step in Lirial took them beyond Cana’s walls, and a hundred paces closer to Leah’s camp outside.
In the ancient days, before the Territories had come fully under humanity’s control, walls had been an effective defense. High walls on a city meant that traditional attack was all but impossible, and only the best Travelers could bypass your protection to attack you directly. That age was long past.
In the end, his ancestors had paid their price for nothing.
***
The whole world had been washed in shades of purple and violet. He could dimly remember a moment before, when his surroundings had been made of gold, but the violet was so much more pleasant. His thoughts were clear now, even straightforward. Honest, that was the word.
Alin pulled the Avernus Traveler toward him, his Violet Light wrapped around her ankle like a lasso. As he dragged her across the stones, she scrabbled for purchase on the stone, her fingernails scraping against the stairs.
He didn’t know this woman. She wore an armored black outfit, and her expression stayed rigid even as she struggled to escape.
I don’t care about her, he thought. I should kill her. That will keep her out of my way while I rescue Ilana, and take care of Simon and Leah.
That brought another issue to his attention: did he have to kill Simon and Leah? Before, he had resolved not to hurt them any more than necessary, but he seemed to recall doing his best to destroy them both.
No, I don’t need to kill them. Not unless it’s too much hassle to keep them alive. I want them to live so that they can see how great I am.
Alin would never have admitted that before, even to himself; he marveled at the simplicity and freedom that honesty brought.
A sharp cry, like that of a hunting hawk, shattered Alin’s ear. To his right, a blur of brown-and-white rushed toward him, feathers ruffled, beak sharp. One of this Traveler�
�s Avernus bird-men, no doubt.
He didn’t have to do anything. Fuzzy violet creatures—the Thrulls of the Violet District—leaped out of cover and landed on the bird-man. The bird should have been larger than all the Thrulls combined, but when their thin feet met the Avernus creature, the bird-man popped in an explosion of purple light and vanished.
The Thrulls raised their thin arms and grinned. “We don’t like doing this, but we’re obligated to serve you!” one of them cried.
Alin raised a fist in salute. “I shouldn’t need to thank you! You have done nothing more than your jobs!”
The fuzzy, purple Thrulls bowed at the waist, and then scurried away.
He felt a strange lack of resistance on the end of his Violet binding, and looked over. The Avernus woman had escaped, somehow, and started limping her way back up the steps toward a black shape in the waystation.
No, wait, that’s the Valinhall Traveler. The shadows that had concealed him before seemed weaker now. They flickered fitfully, like a guttering fire, and Alin wondered if the Traveler had run out of whatever power kept him hidden.
Idly, Alin twirled a strip of Violet Light around his finger as he walked up to the Naraka waystation. Simon lay in a heap behind him on the street. He was taken care of; Alin would have a long talk with him whenever Simon managed to wake up.
He didn’t see Leah or Ilana, though. That was interesting. Perhaps these two had agreed to buy time for them until they got away. He should use Silver Light to search the city, he knew that, but somehow the Silver had never felt so distant.
I’ve given myself entirely over to Violet, he thought. It was likely a defensive reaction to keep me from dying.
That made sense, but he couldn’t help feeling a little irritated that he couldn’t call on his other powers. Not to mention the fact that he never should have been pushed that far to the brink to begin with.
The Avernus Traveler had made it behind the man from Valinhall. She rummaged through her pockets, pulling out an empty leather bag and what looked like a handful of herbs and feathers.
