by Wight, Will
As his body knit itself together in a blinding display of gold and green, he came to a realization: That mask is stronger than the other one.
Oh. So that’s how Valin lost.
Still, Simon didn’t have the Ragnarus blade that had crippled Kai and killed Valin—however impermanent that had turned out to be. No matter how strong the boy was, he didn’t have a way to kill Indirial. And he was still shackled by Valinhall’s chains, so he was working under a time limit. The only thing Indirial had to do was stall—
His world shook again. He was staring up at the blue sky, his white hair falling into his eyes, then he was on his hands and knees, staring at the stone, then he was Kai again, whose skin was slowly turning to steel…
Kai was transforming. He had already half-changed into an Incarnation, and if he kept going, either he or Indirial would die.
Indirial’s hand grew numb and began to shake. He tried to make a fist, but he couldn’t control his body. Indirial and Kai both shook at the same time, and Kai and Indirial felt both sensations together.
With a supreme effort of will, Indirial wrenched his consciousness back into the right body. He forced himself up.
Black-cloaked Simon, with his cold metal expression, was swinging the hammer in both hands. It came straight for Indirial, and he was having trouble remembering why that was supposed to be a bad thing…
The hammer hit him like a falling star, and for a while he knew nothing.
When he came to, he was lying on the floor of the hallway in the House of Blades. He glanced to his left. Yes, there was the bedroom where he’d spent most of his life. Where was Valin? The graveyard, part of him murmured. Where were the others? The graveyard.
Gold and green sparks flickered in front of his eyes—or possibly in his eyes—and he leaped to his feet.
The Gate! He had to reach the Gate.
He was there almost as soon as he’d thought of it, his body reacting with superhuman speed. He pressed through the Gate, and it was like walking into an invisible screen door. He could almost walk through, but the air itself pressed against him, holding him back in a solid barrier, as though the world itself wanted him on this side. He strained and pushed with all his will as the Incarnation of Valinhall, but the screen never tore.
He reached out for Vasha, and realized that she wasn’t at his side. Where was she? Not on the rack, all the racks were empty. He tried to summon her, but she didn’t come. Where…
He looked out through the Gate. There, on the walls of Cana, where he’d tossed every other Dragon’s Fang he could find, Vasha lay. Unreachable.
Outside the Gate, Simon peeled the mask away and collapsed. Inside the Territory, Indirial pulled up a padded chair and sat in it backwards, straddling the back.
He’d thought he would have felt bitter at being so thoroughly defeated, but he felt more pride than anything else. Simon and Kai had both surpassed his expectations, and both of them for the second time.
Maybe he should learn to stop underestimating them.
“Well played,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
THE END OF A TRAVELER
Simon commanded his body to move, to do anything other than sit slumped against the edge of the wall, but he could barely raise one trembling hand. At least he hadn’t lost consciousness this time; he hadn’t worn the mask to its absolute limit, so he could stay seated, and could even move his limbs an inch or two at a time. That was about as far as his body would take him.
But he needed to do more than sit here. He needed to help Kai.
Kai lay on the stones less than a pace away, covered in blood and steel. It looked like the Incarnation had begun with his hand and then gone terribly wrong: one hand was encased by a mirror-bright gauntlet of metal that ended at the wrist, but the rest of his body was practically torn apart. A metal spike had burst from his elbow, beneath the skin, trickling blood onto the ground. Two blades pushed out from his shoulders, also dripping blood.
Patches of mirrored steel had replaced his skin seemingly at random, and clumps of his hair had started to transform as well. Most of the hair hung naturally: shaggy, grimy white, smudged by dirt and blood. The transformed patches didn’t look like real human hair. It was bright white, strangely stiff-looking, and blood seemed to flow through it without leaving any spots behind.
The whole of Kai made him look like a hideous abomination, like a man and an artificial creature from deep in a Territory had been blended randomly together.
That’s almost exactly what happened, Caela sent. Oh, Kai.
Kai’s body shook again, with another spasm, and a dagger-blade pushed itself up from inside his rib cage. His white-gray mask clattered to the ground, the force that held it onto Kai’s head vanishing. Simon forced himself to look away.
Call Andra or Erastes, Simon ordered her. We have to get him into the pool.
Caela lay by Kai’s body, staring up at the sky from under her blue bonnet. Simon wasn’t sure if it was coincidence or not, but one of her wooden hands lay on Kai’s arm.
Not the pool, she said. We need to get him into the bedroom.
How will that help?
That’s where he wants to die.
Simon refused to accept that. Kai’s chest still rose and fell with each breath, and his head moved from side to side. If he could still communicate with Caela, he could still be saved.
He looked over at the shadow-cloaked Incarnation sitting in the entry hall. “Indirial, can you move him?”
Indirial waved at the Gate. “You saw what happened when I tried to leave. Besides, the pool won’t save him.”
“If you can’t help, then get someone who can.”
“No one can.”
“Then get the Eldest!” Simon shouted. “Go find him, and promise him whatever he wants to get him here now.”
Finally, Simon managed to push himself up to his feet. He swayed and almost fell when a wave of dizziness caught him, but he caught himself with one hand on the edge of the wall. Good. He was recovering much faster than before. His chains were still reaching up to his neck, so that could be a problem, but he surely had enough time left to drag Kai through the House.
Where’s Andra? Simon asked Caela.
On her way, the doll responded. She and Erastes will take him.
By the time Andra hurried into the entry hall, carrying an ordinary sword and looking ready for a fight, Simon had managed to stand on his own. He stood, wavering, just outside the Gate, trying to muster up the strength to drag Kai on his own.
Andra stopped at the edge of the hallway, staring at Indirial’s shadowed form. Warily, she raised her blade. Erastes hurried in behind her, chain mail jangling, and his Tartarus steel sword was out of its sheath and pointed at Indirial before he even made it into the entry hall.
“Leave them alone, Indirial,” Simon said, trying to inject some authority into his voice. He was worried that he only sounded tired. “Don’t hurt them.”
Indirial’s eyebrows lifted. “You defeated me in combat. I won’t stand in your way.” His violet eyes turned to Kai. “I won’t help you, either, but I won’t get in your way.”
Another spike pushed out of Kai’s skin, and he groaned weakly.
“Help him!” Simon demanded. Andra and Erastes glanced at each other, and then they were out of the Gate, bending down to grab Kai under the shoulders.
“What happened to Seijan?” Andra asked, as she pulled Kai into Valinhall, moving carefully to avoid cutting herself on his spikes.
Her Dragon’s Fang, Caela reminded him.
“Oh, right. It…I mean, he…she?” Now that he knew the Dragon’s Fangs could think for themselves, at least a little, what was he supposed to call them? “You should probably banish it and re-summon it,” he said at last.
Indirial smiled a little over the back of his chair. “You should hurry up about it. The King can seal them in the Vault, and then you’ll never get them back without his permission.”
Andra stu
ck one arm out, past the Gate, and in the entry hall Seijan appeared. It was half the size of Azura but roughly the same shape, with its shorter blade speckled with spots of what looked like ink. Andra glanced behind her and sighed with relief, then turned back to Kai.
“Take him straight to the pool,” Simon said.
Erastes nodded and started pulling Kai toward the hallway, but Andra hesitated. “Your doll said…”
“I don’t care what she said,” Simon snapped. “Take him to the pool.” Was he the only one who hadn’t given up yet?
Andra and Erastes pulled Kai into the hallway, and Simon glanced behind him. The top of Cana’s wall was little more than a ruin. Not only had chunks been broken, crushed, or sliced out of the stone, the evidence of the Incarnations’ presence remained: pools where the bricks had turned red, a cave where the rock had flowed into something resembling a natural formation, a stretch of tile shaped by Valinhall that had been shattered by Valinhall’s powers.
On that ruin lay three Dragon’s Fangs.
He’d dropped Azura when he needed to use the hammer, and there she sat, shining in the sun and almost seven feet long. A few paces away, Vasha—bigger and thicker, riddled with cracks—sat where it had flown from Indirial’s hand. At the foot of the Gate, in a pool of Kai’s blood, lay Mithra.
The Wanderer’s sword looked much like Azura except for the line of gold running up the blade from hilt to point. The three blades sat there, visible from the Territory, and Simon knew he’d need to pick them up. They were too valuable to leave sitting out in the open, but how was he supposed to carry them? He could banish Azura, but he wouldn’t be able to lift the others without calling steel. He wasn’t sure he could call on Valinhall at all so soon after using the mask, but even if he could, it might do to him what it had done to Kai.
He pictured spikes stabbing out of his skin from the inside, and shuddered. I don’t want to die like that, he thought, but then he stopped himself.
No. Kai’s not dead yet.
With a thought he banished Azura, and she appeared on the rack across from the Gate. He managed to bend over without falling, scooping up Caela and tucking her into his cloak. Then he looked for Indirial, to see if he could help.
His chair was empty.
He left minutes ago, Simon, Caela said softly. Did you not notice?
That was stupid. He was letting himself slip because he was exhausted, and all but powerless, and maybe about to pass out. So what? He wasn’t wounded. Kai had taken far more damage today than he had.
Caela shifted inside his cloak pocket. It’s not just today. It’s all piling up on you, Simon. You need to stop pushing yourself.
The dolls were always trying to stop him from using the mask. He couldn’t fight an Incarnation without it on, certainly not the Valinhall Incarnation, so he would have to live with the risk until the danger was past.
He was trying to figure out another way to get the swords when the Eldest appeared in a flutter of black robes. “I hear you have lost another two of the swords,” he hissed. “Every time I think you have stepped forward, you show me that you have actually taken a step back.”
Simon met the Nye’s empty gaze, trying to project an image of confidence and strength. If he wanted the Eldest to take him seriously, he had to act like he was in charge. “I will get them back. I will get them all back. But you need to hold up your end of the bargain and save Kai.”
The Eldest paused for a moment, and then he began to chuckle. “You get one miracle out of me, and you begin to expect them on command. I am loath to disappoint you, O exalted heir, but Valin was an exception in more ways than one. It was no great thing to bring him back. I am more impressed that he managed to die at all.”
You know he’s right, Simon, Caela said, but Simon didn’t let that sway him. The Eldest might sound convincing, but that didn’t mean he was telling the truth.
“You’ve bargained with me before,” Simon said. “Why not now? Do you want Kai to die that badly?”
“I don’t care how long he lives before he dies, but he was transformed halfway into an Incarnation. That is a death sentence. The merciful thing would be to put a chain around his neck right now.”
Simon forced himself to march forward and grab a double handful of the Eldest’s robes. He’d never tried to fight the Eldest directly, but he’d do what he had to for Kai.
“Save him!” Simon commanded.
“I cannot.”
Simon’s hands were shaking on the Nye’s robes, and he forced them to unclench. “I’d better…” he began, but he wasn’t sure how to finish.
What was he supposed to do?
Let’s go see him, Caela urged.
Step by step, Simon marched down the hall, toward the bathroom. He felt like he was marching toward his own funeral, and his mind kept racing toward a way out. The Eldest had said Kai’s transformation into an Incarnation had been interrupted.
Because of Indirial, Simon realized. There could be only one Incarnation at a time. Just because Indirial had been sealed into the Territory, he hadn’t lost all his powers yet. So what if Simon killed Indirial? Would that help Kai?
Simon shook his head, forcing his thoughts back in line. That wouldn’t help Kai, it would only put Simon in the same situation. He didn’t want Indirial to die either. None of them should have to die; this whole situation was ridiculous! He wasn’t even sure why they’d been fighting in the first place.
It all came back to Valin’s question: What do you want?
Why was he fighting? What was he willing to fight for?
To keep Kai alive, he resolved. That’s a good enough reason for anyone.
We’re here, Caela announced.
No, we’re not. We’re still in the hallway. The bath is still...
Then Simon realized that the seventh bedroom, his bedroom, had been torn open. Andra and Erastes stood within, and they’d been joined by Caius, Lycus, and Olissa. The five of them stood in a half-circle around Kai’s bleeding, transformed body.
But that wasn’t what held Simon’s attention. The floor was scattered with walking dolls. Walking, moving, broken dolls.
Rebekkah’s arm was bound in a sling that it looked like she had tied herself. As he watched, she tossed her red braid back over her shoulder and tightened the sling with her teeth. He hadn’t known that she could move her jaw.
And there, Angeline was carrying Lilia on her back. Both of Lilia’s feet had been crushed, and the hem of her flowing, white dress torn away. Gloria sat nearby, her hair and dress ruined, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as though to brush away real tears.
All of the dolls moved around on the floor; for the first time since Simon had seen the room, their shelves were completely bare. Even the dolls he hardly ever spoke with—Delia, Reka, Sara, the twins—they all moved and helped the injured.
Then he saw Otoku.
Kai clutched her to his chest, stroking what remained of her long, black hair. Half of her face had been shattered, as if with a hammer, and the remaining half stared up at the ceiling with an expression of mild surprise.
It finally hit Simon that he’d lost someone. Again.
Ever since he’d gotten his powers from Valinhall, he’d managed to save everyone who needed it. Now Otoku, who should have been safe, was gone. And Kai…
One by one, the dolls walked up to Kai. Some of the injured and broken had to help each other, but they each stopped and lay a hand on Kai’s forehead. Serious Angeline bent over to plant a wooden kiss in his hair, and the twins actually threw all four of their arms around him for a hug.
No one said anything.
When all the dolls had finished, they stood around Kai’s body in a complete circle, facing inward. Simon’s mind was still racing: Were they doing something? Maybe they could save him. He’d never understood the powers of the dolls—maybe they could bring Kai back.
He was surprised to realize that Caela had crawled up out of his cloak and was sitting on his left shoulder; he h
adn’t felt her at all. And she never moved so much.
Good-bye, she said, softly. Several of her sisters echoed her. Kai smiled, and he let out one last, contented sigh. “My little ones…” he said.
Then his hand, still brushing Otoku’s hair, stopped moving.
That was it. Simon had waited long enough. He called steel and stepped forward, brushing aside the nearest few dolls, reaching for Kai. He would pick the man up and drag him to the pool, no matter what he wanted, and if that didn’t work he’d take Kai to see Valin…
Somebody stood in his way, and Simon tried to push past, but he couldn’t. They were holding his shoulders, and they were just as strong as he was.
Erastes, he realized. Simon didn’t hesitate; he drove his fist into the old man’s gut.
Filled with steel, the soldier didn’t make a sound. He stepped in front of Kai, blocking Simon’s vision. “He’s dead, son,” Erastes said, his words characteristically hard.
Simon knocked his hands away and tried to push past, but Andra was holding his left side, and Erastes his right. He struggled against them for a moment before he realized it was useless.
You can’t do anything now, Caela said.
No, he couldn’t.
And he cried for that as much as anything.
***
Leah walked into the middle of the Crimson Vault, standing between the rows of weapons on their marble shelves, with their delicately carved labels. She stopped in what she guessed was the center of the long gallery, and turned to the raven on her shoulder.
Murin purred, or the raven equivalent. It sounded like she was gargling birdsong, but Leah got the impression that the raven did sense another mind. Another sound, almost a soft bark, and Leah understood that this person was quite close.
It could be convenient, having a raven that could sense, read, and possibly manipulate thoughts. But Leah hoped that one day the bird would learn to communicate more clearly. Having to interpret each little sound, even with Murin’s mental assistance, was becoming a noticeable inconvenience. Still, at least she was getting better at it.
