by Ben Hale
Jack reluctantly reached into a hidden pouch and withdrew the keys. To his surprise they were glowing. He raised them to his eyes and watched the orange glow fade. Curious, he lowered them again and they brightened.
“The keys find the lock,” he said, and tossed one to her.
Turning away, he searched the summit of the shield while watching the knife. Following the brightening glow, he wound his way until he spotted a flicker of light beneath the dust. Kneeling beside it, he brushed the sand aside to find a crack in the material.
The gap glowed brighter as Jack brought the knife closer, and he called Lorelia. As she knelt at his side he put the knife into place and slid it home. The light flared to blinding and turned red.
“Let’s find the other lock,” he said.
“Is that eagerness I hear?”
“We’re about to unlock a vault that has endured for eons,” Jack said. “How could I not be eager?”
“Spoken like a thief.”
She laughed lightly and returned to where she’d been searching. He followed her, and a moment later spotted a glowing crack directly across from the embedded dagger. Kneeling beside it, Lorelia sank the second key into the lock and it too glowed red.
They retreated as the light streaked away from the blades, arcing together until it formed a glowing ring. Then another ring appeared inside the first, and another. The concentric circles continued to appear, shimmering into view before dimming. Each came with a blast of energy, increasing in power until Jack and Lorelia were forced to retreat. It reached the center and a geyser of red exploded upward before fading and turning silver. Like a rock had been thrown into a pond the silver light rippled, fusing the rings into a single mirror-like surface that reflected the stars.
Jack released his held breath as he examined the circular Gate. “Where does it go?”
She snorted in irritation. “He said I was not capable of understanding.”
Jack stepped to the edge of the Gate and stooped to touch it. Just as the other Gates he’d used, this one allowed his hand to pass through as if it were liquid, and returned to its shape when he withdrew. He rose to his feet and turned to her.
“Ready?”
“I’ll be here when you come back,” she said, and envy flashed across her face.
“You’re not coming?”
She shook her head. “Skorn made it clear the keys only allow one to pass.”
“Lucky me,” Jack said wryly.
“You were always lucky,” she said.
He frowned. “I don’t care to go in blind.”
“You have no choice,” she said. “Just as I don’t.”
“You had a choice,” he said. “And you chose to follow him.”
“How could one like you understand what it’s like to be ugly?”
“One’s beauty does not mean that much,” Jack said.
She stared at him, her expression heavy with sadness. “You think me shallow.” She said it without rancor.
“You betrayed us to be beautiful,” Jack said.
She shook her head, her eyes lifting to his. “I do not desire beauty but an identity, one I only gain when I don this mask. My entire life I’ve been broken, and all I desire is to be whole.”
“How can healing your face change that much for you?”
“You cannot understand,” she said, looking away.
He reached out and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I would have, if you’d showed me earlier.”
She stared at him for a long time. “I will show you what happened the last time I shared my secret.”
She opened her palms, sending light curving about them. The Irilian Shield and night sky faded, shimmering to pure white before darkening to a hallway in what was clearly a mage guild. Young elves rushed between lessons, flowing through Jack and Lorelia as if they weren’t there.
Jack spotted a young Lorelia walking with a group of girls and a boy. There was no sound to the memory, but Jack read the malice in the girls faces as they whispered at her back. They walked into an empty classroom and someone closed the door.
“They told me the professor had called an extra lesson,” Lorelia said, “and I believed them.”
The girls were quick to surround Lorelia, poking at her and laughing. At first she shook her head, denying what was being said. The fear on her face was palpable.
“I trusted Felan,” Lorelia said, motioning to the boy hovering in the back of the group. “He said he loved me and I told him my secret. He told the others.”
“What are they saying?” Jack asked as the girls shoved the young Lorelia down and pinned her to the floor.
“That an ugly mutt does not deserve love.”
Jack flinched and glanced at Lorelia. She stood rigid as she watched her memory unfold, her features haunted. She did not look away as the leader of the girls pulled a knife into view.
“She said it wasn’t right that one side of my face was pretty,” Lorelia whispered. “It was only fitting that both sides matched.”
The girls ripped the amulet from the young Lorelia’s neck and she panicked. She fought with magic and fist but there were too many. They held her pinned as her real features appeared, laughing at the disfigurement. Then the leader leaned down, digging the knife into Lorelia’s face. Lorelia squirmed and fought, her mouth open in a silent scream. Blood spilled to the floor, mingling with her tears.
Jack clenched his hands into fists. “It is forbidden for elves to spill the blood of another elf.”
“They said I wasn’t a member of the fair race,” Lorelia replied. “They said I might find love among the pigs . . . now that I looked like one.”
The girls finally released her and retreated, leaving a bloody and sobbing Lorelia on the floor. Laughing and casting insults, they swept from the room. The young Lorelia scooted to the wall and huddled against the stone, cradling her injured face as she sobbed.
“The elves are known for their beauty,” Lorelia said, her gaze on her broken younger self. “Yet they are vain and petty, especially in youth. Image matters more than skill, knowledge, or talent. My mother swore me to secrecy, but I shared the truth with one I loved—and he betrayed me. After that everyone knew.”
The view changed, and in its place Jack saw Lorelia walking through a sea of revulsion inscribed on young faces. Elf maidens chattered from the classrooms, pointing and laughing. The more sinister passed her in the halls, pushing her down, taking her things.
“I told you my mother took her own life,” Lorelia said. “But she did it because she was ashamed of me, because her friends blamed her for my appearance. After that I changed my face entirely and returned to school as a different student. The same students that had hurt me now respected me, and laughed as they told the tale of my scarring. I didn’t realize then, but it was my first persona.”
Jack looked away, unable to endure any more. “Why show me all this?” he asked, sweeping his hand at the images.
She stepped to him, drawing close and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Because I love you, Jack.”
She leaned up and kissed him, drawing him into a crushing embrace. Unprepared for the contact he froze, his mind spinning in circles. He kissed her but not with the same force, and sensing his reserve, she withdrew.
He opened his eyes to find himself back on the Irilian Shield. Lorelia stared at him, her features hardening. The weariness about her frame implied an enormous amount of magic had been required to provide the glimpse into her soul.
“I don’t feel that way toward you,” Jack finally said.
“You acted that way before you knew the truth,” she said. “You kissed me.”
“I shouldn’t have,” Jack said. He shifted his feet but it didn’t alleviate his discomfort. “I never felt for you the way I feel for . . .”
He didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to.
Her features turned bitter. “Perhaps you would have if I didn’t look like this.” She pointed to her face. Then sh
e whirled and strode away. “I think I’ll make the return journey alone,” she cast over her shoulder.
Jack raised a hand to her. “Lorelia—”
“Don’t,” she said, whirling to face him. “I know how you feel about Thera—and as you said—they call her Beauty for a reason.”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “You’re my friend.”
Anger flitted across her features and then turned cold. “They all said that.”
She turned and strode away, but Jack made a final attempt. “What if I don’t come out?”
“Then I’ll count myself lucky.”
He stared after her until she’d disappeared in the gloom. When he realized she would not return he grunted, his confusion turning to irritation. He regretted kissing her, and wished there was a way he could explain? If anything, he valued her more since learning the truth.
He scowled and faced the shimmering mirror at his feet. Where he was about to go he could not afford to be distracted, and he cast Lorelia from his mind. Then he stepped forward and dropped into the Gate.
Chapter 37: Refuge of the Eternals
Jack exited the Gate and promptly landed on his back. Grunting from the impact, he rose to find the Gate now vertical, as was the tunnel he now stood in. His irritation at the awkward exit evaporated as he took in his surroundings.
The tunnel was circular with a flat floor. Blue accents graced the polished white walls. Windows lined one side, but the view beyond was of darkness and stars. Drawn to the window, he stepped to it and saw a massive peak rising nearby. He started to turn away until he realized it wasn’t a peak.
And it was moving.
The stone gradually rotated to the side, spinning and sliding away to reveal it wasn’t a mountain at all, but a single massive stone floating through the night. Held fast by the display, Jack was unprepared for the sight when it shifted out of view—allowing sunlight to fall upon him.
An endless expanse of night sky stretched away from him, with the sun glowing in the distance. Nausea assailed him and he pushed his nose against the window in the hopes of seeing the ground, but the curve of the glass prevented him from seeing beyond a few feet. Although he tried to convince himself it wasn’t possible, he could have sworn the mountain he stood on was moving as well.
He forced himself to turn away and focus on his task. Then he advanced toward the end of the tunnel, pausing on the threshold of a massive chamber. Spherical and miles in diameter, the space contained forests, lakes, and streams across the interior—extending up the walls to flow across the ceiling as well. An orb of light pulsed in the heart of the chamber like a tiny sun, its magic dimmed as if it were twilight or early morning.
Large corridors extended from the sphere at odd angles. Strange equipment dotted the sphere’s landscape, curving onto the walls and ceiling. Gardens dominated much of the area, with fruit trees and grass pointing to the miniature sun. Streams trickled among the trees, gurgling across the ceiling and down one side to a lake.
There was no balcony outside the tunnel, and the sides sloped outward like a funnel. The strange exit flowed into a grove of sweet smelling fruit. Tentatively Jack advanced on the slope but it was no different than descending a shallow hill. By the time he reached the trees the miniature sun was up and the ground at his feet was down.
Clouds floated on the other side of the sun, their cottony surface bent as they followed the curve of the sphere. A light rain fell, drizzling on the multitude of plants with the soft patter of a spring storm. From his vantage point the rain fell upward, drenching the trees on the upper curve of the sphere.
As disconcerting as the sphere was, it caused Jack to smile. Whatever magic the ancients had possessed, it was powerful enough to defy every sense of known logic, meaning their relics were likely just as powerful.
And valuable.
As he advanced through the fruit trees he spotted strange animals in the field. They looked at his appearance but did not seem afraid. Jack strode within touching distance of a deer but it merely regarded him with passive curiosity.
Although he didn’t see anyone else, he made his way to one of the tunnels that extended out from the sphere. When he reached it he looked back to the one he’d entered from, but the tunnel was now up the curve of the sphere.
He turned down the tunnel and found that the transition to walking on the floor of the new corridor was as seamless as the last. Again, it brought a smile to his lips as he pondered how the ancients had accomplished such a feat.
The corridor matched the first, and also culminated in a Gate. This one lay inert, the markings on the wall suggesting it did not lead to the same place. Although he was tempted to test it, he retreated to the central sphere and moved on.
The next two tunnels ended at Gates as well. Jack strode into the fourth tunnel expecting the same but came to a halt. Instead of a single corridor this one branched into a series of rooms and smaller halls. All of the doors were closed, and Jack realized it was likely the sleeping quarters for the fortress.
Returning to the central sphere he continued his search. Some of the tunnels went to Gates, while others went to chambers of strange machinery. The more he searched the more confused he became.
Then he found the vault.
Although much of the citadel’s construction appeared strange and foreign, the vault was unmistakable. The hall came to an end at a circular door. Set into the wall, the metal glowed with a luminescent green. A single hole marked the surface, a lock for a key.
He bent to examine it, unsurprised to find its craftsmanship unique. The lock resembled the knives he’d used to enter the ancient fortress but showed a more tapered bore. He knew at a glance he could not pick it, but its construction was clearly mechanical.
“Let’s see how you like a gorgon key,” he murmured, and withdrew knife from its sheath.
He detached the blade and placed the hilt up to the hole. Then he caressed the rune on the pommel. The hilt turned liquid and began to flow into the lock, filling every nook and crevice. Sparks came from hole before the hilt turned solid and Jack inserted the blade into it. With great care he began to turn the lock. A grin crossed his face as the entire door rotated with it, turning as easily as a wheel of cheese at the end of a dagger.
“I expected more,” Jack said to the lock, his voice one of pity.
The door abruptly turned transparent and faded, leaving the knife in his hand. He smirked and returned it to its sheath.
He stepped through the door and it closed behind him, leaving him inside another spherical chamber. At just a hundred feet across it was much smaller than the main chamber, but far more intricate—and it was occupied.
Instead of a miniature sun, a woman hovered at the center of the space. Crafted of pure light, she gazed on the glowing ball in her hands. Jack remained rooted in place until he was certain he had not disturbed the sentinel. Then he scanned the chamber.
Several recessed alcoves were scattered about the room, each holding a single item. He spotted pyramids, a staff, and what looked like a pocket mirror. Three resembled hourglasses but instead of sand they held silver liquid. The artifacts were foreign to him but two stood out. Situated across from him and partway on the ceiling, the first black pyramid was the size of his hand. It hovered in its slot, spinning casually so the light reflected off its surface. Halfway up the curve sat a second.
With great care Jack stepped out of the alcove and onto the interior of the sphere—and the entire chamber shifted. The openings slid to the side and rotated to face sheer rock. Curious, Jack took another step, and this time noticed the woman at the center rotated the ball in her hands, and the room spun to match.
A chagrined smile crossed his face as he realized the truth. The vault held two spheres, one outer, one inner. The outer sphere contained the artifacts, while the inner had windows leading to the alcoves. Every time the inner sphere moved the windows shifted, blocking access to the vault’s treasures.
The door was
merely a formality, while the chamber was the true lock. Each item likely had a single path to reach it, a combination where the person could walk the secret pattern to reach the item they wanted. With the size of the chamber Jack estimated there would be an infinite number of combinations to reach a single relic. To steal them all would be impossible.
He took another step to gauge the chamber’s movement but it did not match his own, and turned in a new direction, rotating until he stood on the relative ceiling. The only thing that did not move was the woman, and from his vantage point she stood upside down, her unseeing eyes studying the ball in her hands.
He looked back and scowled. The opening that led to the door had shifted as well, leaving the sphere’s wall obscuring the door. The chamber wasn’t just a lock to guard against thieves, it was a trap. If he went the wrong way the door might never reappear, leaving him caged in the vault until death or discovery.
He cautiously retreated the way he’d come, and to his relief the chamber reoriented in the reverse order. The large opening slid back into its place and the entrance came into view. He stepped to it and turned back to the chamber, examining it once again.
The minutes passed in silence but he did not move. The vault he faced was designed to be uncrackable, a killer of thieves. The thickness to the rotating sphere was excessive, and he doubted even a score of rock trolls could break through. He frowned, guessing the makers of the vault had likely prepared for such an attempt. Additional traps might also be hidden out of view.
He scowled as another thought crossed his mind. The vault sat inside a fortress nearly impossible to enter, yet it contained barriers unmatched by any among the five kingdoms. The relics were secured by layer upon layer of protection, each stronger than the last. With such measures to stop a thief, they wouldn’t let the artifacts be taken.
They would destroy them.
He scanned the chamber again but his attention was drawn to the woman of blue light hovering at the center. She was the source of the power for the room, or at least the conduit. But how would she react if something went amiss?
