The Gates of Memory

by Ryan Kirk

  Jace’s own emotions cut even deeper. She felt his love and concern, his fear that he might lose her again. It was too much to bear, and as soon as she felt up to the task, she cut most of their ties. It had taken her longer than usual to enter the soulwalk, but once started the work had gone quickly. Only the original thread between the siblings remained.

  She thought constantly of the Lolani queen. Returning from her first battle with the queen had been difficult, but they’d won that fight. She had no such comfort after this second meeting. Alena might have broken the queen’s connection to the imperial gate, but it had been dependent on Hanns surprising the queen with his control of a second gate.

  Alena couldn’t shake the “what if” questions.

  What if she hadn’t tied herself so tightly to Jace?

  What if she hadn’t used the strength from the priest to break the final thread to the gate?

  What if she hadn’t been able to return? That had clearly been the queen’s intent, to strand them there.

  Jace would have been left with her body, its heart still beating but its soul gone, a living death.

  And her soul would have been trapped, forever.

  As the leagues passed, Alena retreated into herself. She didn’t want to. All she wanted was to keep Jace close, to hear his voice telling her his exaggerated tales of heroism. She thought she needed that now.

  But she couldn’t. Whenever she tried, all she thought of was the void, or of Anders I’s warnings.

  She’d learned something valuable in that warning, though. The Lolani queen tied her soul to others, then killed them to gain her strength. That was how she paid the cost.

  With the lives of others.

  Alena should tell Brandt, but couldn’t bear to reach out to him. She wasn’t sure she could face him after their failure.

  Was telling Brandt wise? She trusted him, but plenty of monks had been looking for ways to negate the cost. It required little stretching of the imagination to understand the terrible consequences of her knowledge falling into the wrong hands.

  If anything good had come from this, it was Jace and Ligt learning to tolerate one another. Ligt was Etari, so he knew how to fight, but he lived as a trader. As Alena remained lost in her own thoughts, the other two were forced to interact more. They’d developed something of a master-student relationship. When they stopped for the evenings, Ligt and Jace trained together. Jace showed the trader combative techniques the Etari didn’t use. In exchange, Ligt took over Jace’s instruction in Etari language and customs.

  Jace hadn’t been a great student in academy, but Alena now realized it was because he hadn’t found the proper motivation. With no one to speak to but an Etari trader, he picked the language up quickly. Growing up, she’d always prided herself on strong academics, but now she realized that Jace might be just as quick to learn as she was.

  We’re here, Jace signed. His movements looked much more relaxed than they had seven days ago.

  The motion snapped her to attention. She looked around and saw nothing. Then they crested a small hill. In a shallow valley on the other side, a collection of tents stood. Even from a distance, Alena recognized familiar faces.

  Their arrival was noticed, of course. Alena suspected scouts around the camp had actually spotted them a while ago, also explaining why Jace knew they were getting close. She looked higher. Lost in her thoughts, she had little sense of time. It appeared to be late afternoon.

  They rode slowly into camp, dismounting their horses and taking care of them. Ligt glanced over at Alena. “She’ll want to see you, soon.”

  Alena forced her nerves down. The fact Sooni hadn’t come out to greet her was a message, and one that didn’t necessarily bode well. Alena might be welcome in Etar, but maybe not among her own family. When Alena had last left, she’d been accompanied by Azaleth, one of the few healthy young warriors left after the battle with the Lolani. She returned without him.

  Alena finished taking the saddle off her horse.

  Ligt reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently.

  “I’ll take care of your belongings.”

  Alena stepped back. Jace looked to her, concern etched in his expression. “Don’t worry,” she said. “This is something I need to do alone. You’ll meet Sooni before long.”

  She turned her horse over to Ligt’s care. Then she made her way to the center of the camp, where Sooni’s tent would be. She passed several of her family on the way. Their gazes assessed her, but they withheld judgment, at least for now.

  Were they still her family?

  She thought of them that way.

  But she hadn’t seen them for years.

  Two families in two different lands. One through blood, one through ties that went even deeper.

  How did she honor both?

  She knew, as those familiar faces watched her, that she had failed again. She had failed her birth family when she’d run away all those years ago. And she’d failed this family, perhaps even worse. She’d led one of their treasured sons to his death. And she hadn’t even returned to them after.

  Back in Landow, surrounded by her parents and Jace, her decision had made sense.

  Now it seemed wrong.

  Alena remembered Sooni’s tent well, for she’d spent no small amount of time within it over the years. She didn’t enter, but instead kneeled in front of the tent. “Sooni.”

  She kept her voice soft, just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of camp. Alena heard the matriarch of the family move within the tent. A flap lifted, revealing the woman who had saved Alena’s life on one of her darkest days.

  Alena’s emotions were almost as strong as when she’d met her own family back in Landow. Sooni had aged, but if anything, the years had made her stronger. Her sharp eyes took Alena in, and she made the hand sign for entrance.

  There were two signs for enter.

  One was formal, used when meeting a new family or clan, or used when the status between the two people was unknown. The second was informal, an invitation between friends and family.

  Sooni’s was the first.

  Alena entered the tent and sat. Sooni sat across from her.

  Despite the addition of years, Sooni seemed much the same as when Alena last saw her. The first hints of gray had begun to show in her hair, but her sharp gaze missed nothing.

  Alena looked around the tent. Sooni hadn’t carried much back when they’d first met, and little appeared to have changed. But Alena did see a sword resting in the corner, a Lolani design. A piece of the battle that had wreaked havoc on her clan, and a reminder of the last day Alena had spent among her family.

  “I’m sorry,” Alena said. The words weren’t sufficient, but they were all she had.

  She forced herself to meet Sooni’s stare. At first, it seemed cold, and Alena wondered if she had stepped into a trap.

  Then the ice broke and Alena saw the woman’s sorrow.

  Alena came up to her knees and shuffled forward quickly, wrapping Sooni in an embrace. It was returned, Sooni’s strength making breathing difficult.

  They held each other for several long heartbeats, then broke apart. Alena remained close. The Etari were generally more physical than imperials, with less emphasis on personal space. Alena fell into the rhythms of the life with ease.

  “I’m sorry,” Alena repeated. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “As am I,” Sooni said. “Tell me everything.”

  And Alena did. She spoke of Azaleth’s final days, of how he had died in a mysterious chamber far below the mountains outside Landow. She spoke of the gates and the power that resided within. And she spoke of her own affinity and the ways in which it grew.

  Alena left nothing out. Much of it Sooni already knew. Alena’s long letter after Azaleth’s death had covered most of this, but it needed to be spoken.

  “Your other family, they are well?”

  “They are. My brother insisted on escorting me.”

  A thin smile grew
from the corner of Sooni’s lips. “We’ve heard. He’s a skilled warrior, by all accounts.”

  “So he is. I hadn’t realized how skilled until we crossed the border.”

  Sooni stiffened slightly at the mention of the border. Alena didn’t miss it. “I saw the weaves. More complex and beautiful than anything I’ve seen before. It’s a soulworking.”

  Yes, Sooni signed. “But I can’t answer your questions. Those secrets are not mine to tell.”

  Alena had hoped for more, but she wasn’t surprised she’d have to go all the way to a clan elder to find them. Maybe even higher.

  “We missed you,” Sooni said.

  “And I you.”

  “There are questions about whether or not you are Etari enough for what is to come.”

  Alena shrugged, then signed indifference, remembering where she was. “There always have been. It’s not for me to worry about anymore.”

  Sooni’s gaze ran up and down her. “You’ve grown these last two years.”

  “But I still have much to learn.”

  “There is little I can tell you directly. I was ordered by the clan elders to summon you. I insisted on meeting you first, but now that you are here, we will continue our journey.”

  “To do what?”

  Sooni looked uncertain, an appearance she didn’t wear well. As head of the family, Alena had always found Sooni’s decisiveness to be a matter of course. “I don’t know. The elders won’t give me even a hint.”

  Alena frowned. The Etari, in her experience, didn’t keep many secrets from one another. For them to hide information from Sooni was concerning.

  Sooni must have sensed her concern. “Let us not worry. Today is a reunion. Go, bring your brother. It’s time for your two families to know each other better.”

  13

  Brandt enjoyed traveling. He always had. Ana, riding next to him, didn’t. She longed for a way to reach their destination moments after departing their origin.

  So Brandt’s delight at leaving Estern was Ana’s torment.

  She foresaw endless leagues of riding and days filled with little to do.

  Brandt basked in the simplicity of a day on the road. Whenever one remained stationary, particularly in a city, a plethora of options demanded consideration. What should he eat? How should he spend his time?

  On the road, all those decisions were made. They ate what food they had brought, simple fare designed for the rigors of the road. Their only choice every day was how far to travel.

  With nothing to do except ride, Brandt felt an incredible sense of freedom. This, he felt, was how people were supposed to live. Perhaps the Etari had it right, never allowing themselves to settle into cities.

  Unfortunately, with little to do, and with Ana’s mood sour due to the long days on the road, it was too easy to fall into disagreements.

  Like the one they currently were engaged in.

  Ana shrugged again. “I don’t care.”

  “Then why come?”

  “The emperor gave you an order. And I’d rather remain by your side, so long as I can.”

  Brandt believed Ana, but still found her lack of interest difficult to understand. “You don’t have the slightest curiosity about the gate?”

  “No. I’ve seen the gate underneath Landow. You say the one under the palace looks the same. I don’t personally care about the power they provide. So why should I be interested?”

  “They could change the world!”

  “Sure, but that doesn’t matter much to me.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  She sighed. “It’s not that I want the world to burn. But I believe in letting the world do as it will. I just want to focus on what matters to me.”

  “Which is?”

  “You, for one. Starting a family. Building a home.”

  The last statement made him pause. “You want to build a home?”

  She raised her right eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on raising our child in the monastery.”

  Brandt hadn’t considered that problem. They rode silently for several heartbeats before she laughed. “You really didn’t think this through, did you?”

  Another few moments passed. “No, I did not.”

  He liked the idea of starting a family. He thought that he would make a good father, and Ana would be a wonderful mother. Obviously it would come with changes, but he realized now those changes would be more substantial than he had thought.

  Would being a father mean giving up all of this?

  He looked at the endless expanse of prairie surrounding them. They had countless leagues to go before they reached the mountains of Falar, but their journey mattered. It could shape the future of the empire.

  How did he choose between that and a family?

  “You don’t need to worry yet,” Ana said. “But you should probably figure it out soon.”

  “Figure what out soon?” The voice was the prince’s.

  “Life,” answered Ana, saving Brandt from having to explain their conversation to Regar.

  “No small feat,” Regar remarked dryly.

  “He’s got that gleam in his eye again,” Ana noted.

  Brandt studied the prince for a moment. Ana was right. Regar had a question that he was dying to ask. Brandt knew the signs by now.

  Ana shook her head. “I’ll leave you two to that. Enjoy.” She nudged her horse forward to join a group of female guards that rode off to the side. Ana had grown fond of them over the long days of riding.

  “A remarkable woman,” Regar commented.

  “She is.”

  “You are loyal to the empire, correct?”

  Brandt looked over. From anyone else, he might have considered the question offensive. But they’d come to understand Regar better in the course of their travels. The prince possessed an undying curiosity that peeled away assumptions to strike at the heart of problems. He questioned everything, though he meant no offense by any of it.

  Ana found the constant questioning annoying, and that was the term she used if she felt charitable. Ana was content. She understood herself, she knew her skills, and she knew what role she had in the world. It wasn’t that she wasn’t curious, but her curiosity had a different flavor than Regar’s, and it didn’t extend nearly so far.

  In Regar, Brandt found something of a kindred spirit. Brandt’s curiosity, at least for the past decade, had focused on how to become stronger. Specifically, he looked for a way to surpass the cost which limited the elemental affinities.

  The gatestones were one way, but the Etari controlled those.

  Regar shared Brandt’s curiosity, but his extended further in all directions. As near as Brandt could tell, no question was too small for prolonged consideration. “How” and “Why” were the words that began most of his sentences, and Brandt had learned much from Regar’s relentless questioning. Though he had several years on the prince, the prince forced him to question ideas he never had before.

  So he wasn’t offended by the question. Regar meant only to explore. “I am.”

  “Why?”

  Brandt smiled. He had wondered if that would be the next question. “Because the empire has given me everything. Why shouldn’t I repay it with my service?”

  “Did you join the military only because you wanted to serve?”

  Brandt shook his head. “My parents were wage-earners. Service was an opportunity to leave town and earn money.”

  “So it wasn’t loyalty to the empire that motivated your service, but money?”

  That question stung. Brandt figured it was a bit of both.

  Regar kept digging. “If I offered you half my gold to kill my father, would you?”

  “Never.”

  “If I offered you all my gold to do nothing while the Falari attacked, would you?”

  “Never.” Despite his familiarity with Regar’s questions, Brandt found his anger rising.

  “So, while you might have joined the military for gold, gold is no longer the reason you s
erve.”

  Brandt’s anger dissipated. Speaking with Regar was like that. He twisted and pulled at your beliefs, then let go just before he took a step too far. Brandt considered Regar’s statement. He liked how it sounded. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  Brandt thought of Alena and their conversations after Landow. “It’s tempting to make people simple, but I don’t think they are. There’s some truth to your idea. I did join the army for money. But that wasn’t my only reason. I wanted to see more of the world. I wanted to get out of the town where I had spent my entire life. And I did want to serve. My parents survived as wage-earners, and I think even when I was young I recognized how helpful that was.”

  Regar looked like he wanted to interrupt, but Brandt held up a hand. “And I wouldn’t turn down your offers simply because I want to serve the empire. I don’t want to betray your father because he has earned my respect. I wouldn’t allow the Falari to attack because I’ve served in those units and I know how dangerous the Falari are. Decisions might have a single reason, but even that decision is shaped by countless influences.”

  Regar absorbed that for a while. “I think your answer is wise, but incomplete.”

  “How so?”

  “Sometimes the reasons are simple. People fight because they are hungry, or because if they don’t, they will surely die.”

  Brandt acknowledged the point. “Why do you ask?”

  “I seek to understand why people serve one another, or an idea.”

  “Not always an easy question.”

  “It is not.”

  “What of the Falari?” Brandt didn’t often ask anything that might be related to Regar’s captivity, but it seemed foolish to avoid the subject. He trusted Regar not to take offense at a question.

  Regar stared in the direction they traveled, his sight crossing the untold leagues still ahead of them. “The Falari fight because they believe they must.”

  Brandt frowned. He’d never heard that explanation before. Most said the Falari fought because they were poor and desperate for the riches of the empire. “But we never attack them, at least not without provocation.”

  Regar scratched at the back of his neck. “No, we don’t. Their belief isn’t predicated on our existence.”