The Gates of Memory

by Ryan Kirk

  “Well,” said the emperor grimly, “there goes our ruse. Brandt, you’re with me. The rest of you, go with Alena.”

  Hanns tore up some of the rock around them with his affinity, fashioning two platforms.

  “Alena, go to the gate. Ren can guide you. Break my son’s connection.”

  Alena nodded, her attention distracted by whatever Hanns planned.

  Hanns, satisfied with his project, pulled her aside. “Do you want the power of the gate for yourself? If you know how to break a bond, then you certainly know how to form one.”

  Alena shook her head. She might be filled with questions and doubts, but that answer she knew for sure. Never did she want the responsibility of such power.

  “Good. If you do separate Regar, don’t let anyone else have control. Not even Brandt.” The emperor reached out and grabbed her arm. His grip was firm, but his hand felt warm. Too late, she realized he performed a soulwork on her. She dropped into the waking trance, seeing the threads he tied between them.

  At first glance, she thought they were little different than the connections she’d woven between her and her loved ones. But as she focused, she saw the weave was more complex than hers. This almost appeared to be an intricate chain. Some of the power of the gates flowed through it. She felt stronger.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “You’ll be able to draw on some of my strength if you need it,” Hanns said. “And you can let me know the moment you free Regar from the gate.”

  They rejoined the rest of the group. Ana and Brandt stood apart, wishing each other well.

  “Hurry now,” the emperor said. “You won’t have much time.”

  “Aren’t you going to descend with us?” Alena asked.

  Hanns looked at the stone platforms he’d made, a smile on his face.

  “No. We have a quicker way down.”

  53

  The others disappeared down the stairs, leaving Brandt and Hanns alone. Hanns looked over the edge one more time. Now that the others had gone, he didn’t seem to be in such a rush.

  “She’s a remarkable woman,” the emperor said.

  Brandt joined the emperor at the edge of the balcony. The scene below had been quiet after the fireball. To their credit, Weylen and the others didn’t break, and no more devastation was launched from Faldun’s walls.

  “Alena?”

  “Yes, but I was referring to your wife. She follows you into battle, but leaves when ordered to without complaint. Loyalty and discipline are a rare combination.”

  “We were wolfblades together, before,” Brandt explained.

  “Ahh, you’ve told me that before. I’m sorry I forgot. But a companion worth a great deal of suffering, I think.”

  Brandt thought of their last few weeks together. “I agree.”

  “Would you give up your strength for her?”

  Brandt paused. “I want to think so. But how does one choose between duty to the empire and their love?”

  The emperor chuckled softly. He seemed somehow… lighter, than before. Brandt worried the stress of the upcoming battle was affecting him, but that wasn’t it. Hanns’ gaze was sharp, missing nothing down below. He seemed more aware than before. More alive. “If you figure out the answer to that, Brandt, please let me know.”

  Brandt nodded. “What are we waiting for?”

  “The others to get closer to the gate. I imagine they’ve got the harder journey in front of them. No doubt, Regar and the queen suspect something by now, but I think we have a little time yet before they make a decision and act on it.”

  “I can’t protect you against that many,” Brandt pointed out.

  “You can draw from me,” Hanns replied.

  Brandt’s pulse quickened at the thought. He’d drawn power from a man with a gatestone before, but the full power of two gates? His imagination ran wild. “Then I will protect you.”

  They watched the scene below together, and for a while Brandt didn’t feel as though they were emperor and subject.

  They felt like friends.

  “Brandt?”

  “Yes?”

  “Protect her, and cherish what time together you have.”

  “I will.” It wasn’t lost on Brandt that Hanns had lost his wife early in his reign and never remarried, or that they were about to attack Hanns’ son.

  “It’s time.” Hanns stepped away from the balcony and placed himself firmly on one of the stone platforms he’d created. He gestured for Brandt to do the same.

  “What are these?”

  “Just become light, and stay balanced.” A narrowing of the emperor’s eyes was the only warning Brandt had before the platform moved under his feet, picking him up.

  Hanns appeared delighted, and perhaps even a little surprised. “I wasn’t sure these would work, but it’s an idea I had years and years ago, when I was a much younger man.” His own platform lifted and they hovered together.

  Brandt’s platform hung in the air. Intellectually, Brandt knew Hanns was using the power of his stone affinity and the gate, but his body thought he was flying. “Hanns, what are these?”

  “A quicker way down!”

  The platforms flew out into open space. Brandt felt his bowels tighten. A moment ago, a fall would have been a minor inconvenience. Now he would fall hundreds of paces to a certain death. But they were over the Falari defenders, so he supposed he would take out at least one or two with his falling body.

  “Let’s go meet my son.”

  It felt as though the platform had dropped out from underneath him, but it was just that it had dropped quickly. His feet remained firmly planted. They passed level after level in less than a heartbeat, and it seemed little better than a freefall as far as Brandt was concerned. He fought the urge to scream. He thought he saw a flash of color that looked like his friends, but he fell too fast for his eyes to focus on any single object.

  The square where the Falari gathered approached with frightening rapidity. For something that had seemed so far away moments ago, he could now make out individual faces. A few were looking up, curious about the shadows passing overhead.

  Of course they needed speed. This fall was the only way to approach Regar without giving him time to react.

  Just when Brandt thought they had gone too far to recover, the platform slowed quickly. The deceleration forced Brandt into a squat, even light as he was. When he was close enough, he jumped off the platform toward the empty circle around Regar.

  He looked left and right, but the queen was nowhere to be found. The prince stood alone. His eyes met Brandt’s, but there was no understanding there.

  Hanns landed beside him, and together they faced Regar. For a long moment, no one moved.

  In the confusion of their landing, Brandt seized the advantage. He pulled heat from Hanns, worried for a moment that he endangered his emperor’s life. Against most warriors, it was a fatal technique.

  His fear was misplaced.

  When he pulled from Hanns, he pulled whole lakes of energy from a limitless ocean.

  This, then, was the power of the gates. He’d approached this power before, but without the ability to control the energy it had nearly torn him in pieces. But pulled and controlled through Hanns’ connection, Brandt was invincible.

  Brandt turned first to fire. Even after all his years of study it remained the element he felt most comfortable with. Flame erupted in the air, blooming like a wildflower, and Brandt drew a circle around him, the prince, and Hanns.

  The Falari warriors, already shocked by the arrival of fighters who had literally fallen from the sky, panicked and broke against the wave of fire. Brandt pushed the fire further, encouraging their retreat. He wouldn’t be satisfied until the square didn’t hold a single breathing Falari.

  Many unfortunate souls were caught in the fire, and their cries were enough to shatter the courage of the few warriors who still considered taking part in the fight, those who hovered near the edges of Brandt’s flame. Before long, B
randt was satisfied. The square was completely emptied, at least for the moment.

  He split his attention between watching for any approaching threats and the situation developing between Hanns and his son.

  “Must we fight?” asked the emperor.

  “We need her, father. We need the change she brings. You know what’s coming! She showed you the same as she did me. I know she did.”

  It took Brandt several heartbeats to realize Regar was speaking of the queen. Somehow, she had gotten to him. She had corrupted him. Perhaps even now he was compelled.

  “She has shown me the same visions,” Hanns admitted, “but they are lies! She creates a threat in our minds so we can justify treachery against the oaths of Anders. But she has been a soulwalker for hundreds of years. There is no truth in anything she says. They are all illusions, designed only to grant her more power. That is all she has ever cared about.”

  “You’re wrong.” Regar’s voice gained confidence with every sentence. “The evidence surrounds us even now. Faldun was built by people who disappeared, a people destroyed by the threat that approaches even now. It is you who lies to yourself.” Regar paused and Brandt saw the set of his shoulders change. Whatever uncertainty the prince had felt no longer existed. “And unless you recognize that, I have no choice. This is the only way to save the empire.”

  A new sphere of flame appeared in front of Regar. Even fifteen paces away Brandt felt the heat burning off it. How Regar could be so close and not be burned defied Brandt’s understanding.

  “Don’t make me do this,” Regar said.

  Brandt heard the son’s pain, but determination as well. If Hanns didn’t back down, Regar most certainly wouldn’t.

  Hanns’ shoulders slumped. For a moment, Brandt thought Regar had convinced his father.

  Then Hanns stood up straight. “I’m sorry, too, Regar. I should have taught you better. I should have prepared you better for her attacks. Your failure is mine.”

  The ball of fire hovering in front of Regar transformed, flattening and expanding into a wall of orange flame, licking at the air like a hungry animal. With every pace it advanced it grew in size, speed, and intensity. Brandt considered absorbing it, but there was nowhere for the heat to go. The air was already blistering hot.

  Hanns remained, waiting for the wall of destruction to reach him.

  When it did, the battle began in earnest.

  54

  Stairs. Alena decided that if she never saw another staircase again she would die a contented woman. Why would anyone choose to live in a place like this? Sure, it had never fallen to a siege, but she wasn’t sure safety was worth the never ending burn in her legs. Making matters worse, Ren wasn’t as familiar with Faldun’s winding ways as she would have liked. Several times they were forced to climb up the stairs they had just descended.

  Alena was also surprised to find that going down stairs could be just as torturous as going up them, but in wholly different ways. Her knees and legs ached, and her most vivid wish was only for flat ground.

  Fortunately, they ran into no resistance as they descended and searched for the entrance to the lower tunnels underneath the mountain. It seemed that the entire might of Faldun was focused below, preparing to defend against an attack that would never come.

  When Alena saw Hanns and Brandt fall from the sky she swore her imagination had finally gone too far. She thought perhaps she’d taken one stair too many and her mind had shattered. But she leaned over the wall and saw the conclusion to their wild descent. Jace joined her, grunting as the two landed safely in the square below. Alena might have been without words, but that was a problem that rarely afflicted her brother. “Didn’t know that was possible.”

  Alena shook her head, still not sure she should believe what her eyes were telling her.

  “I want to try that someday,” Jace announced.

  Alena just shook her head again. She had no other response.

  Ren urged them on and Alena resumed their descent. When Ren finally announced they were on the correct level, she almost hugged him. They took a moment to shake out their legs before continuing.

  The party ran through the empty streets of Faldun, Ren becoming more confident in his directions the closer they came to the entrance. The emptiness of Faldun unsettled her. Unlike Sheren’s village, Faldun was clean and tidy. It looked like it should be occupied, and the fact that it wasn’t jarred her senses.

  Then Alena saw it, a square entrance that led deep into the mountain behind Faldun. They ran closer, but when they were about ten paces away Alena came to a stop, along with everyone else in the party.

  Why had she ever wanted to enter a tunnel like that? She hated caves, tight spaces, and the darkness that knew no sunlight.

  There would be another way to the gate, she was certain of it. Those who had come before wouldn’t have limited themselves to one entrance. They could find another route, one that would no doubt be safer.

  Beside her, Jace spoke. “Alena, I know this might sound odd, but I’m certain that if we go in there, you’re going to die. Let’s find another way.”

  The others all bobbed their heads, except for Toren, who signed his agreement.

  She had already turned around to begin their search when she realized what had happened. The thoughts were her own, but they had been shaped and exaggerated. Her dislike of tight spaces had grown into a crippling fear. She dropped into a soulwalk and saw the weaving they had walked through. It wasn’t terribly strong or complex, which meant it hadn’t been left by the queen, but by someone else.

  Alena could guess. The queen rarely, if ever, was alone. She had brought some of her priests with her through the gate.

  With a thought, she brushed away the weavings wrapped around her and the others. She detested compulsions of all kinds, but hated it most when her own emotions were used against her. The others blinked. Most of them quickly realized what they’d experienced, but Ren looked properly horrified.

  Now wary of traps and weavings, Alena scouted ahead. Her soulwalk revealed another barrier, stronger, stretched tight across the entrance of the tunnel. It looked vicious. But now that she was aware of it, she was confident she could overcome it.

  She addressed the group. “She brought priests. Jace, Ren, and Toren, take the lead, but don’t enter the tunnel until I give the signal. Once I do, charge in and kill anyone in front of us. Even if they stand still. The real battle won’t be physical.”

  Jace looked uncomfortable with the order, but they both silently agreed. Alena had Sheren stay behind her. She didn’t want her in the soulwalk, not in battle against the Lolani.

  Then Alena focused on her soulwalk. She followed the threads the priests had left. They weren’t far from the entrance, no doubt ready to finish whoever managed to pass through the first two levels of compulsion.

  Alena stepped up to the weaving and her father’s knife appeared in her hand. She sliced through the barrier, cutting the compulsion into pieces. In the physical world, she gestured the warriors forward. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to go far to find the soulwalkers.

  Until then, she could distract them.

  Alena followed the withering threads of compulsion to their owners, two women who reeled backward in surprise. They hadn’t expected an attack from a fellow soulwalker.

  Alena connected with them and pulled them into a reality of her shaping.

  They appeared on the roofs of Landow, the place where Alena had spent far too much of her childhood.

  Before the Lolani could gather their wits, Alena was on them, slashing and stabbing with the knife. She wasn’t a natural born warrior like her brother or Ren, but she made up for her lack of skill with intensity. She reminded herself that she didn’t need to win. All she needed to do was distract them long enough for the others to complete their task in the physical world.

  The soulwalkers reacted quickly. Despite their disorientation and Alena’s attacks, she never managed to do more than scratch them. In very few h
eartbeats, they had their own weapons in hand and began to fight back.

  Before the fight could escalate further, they suddenly vanished from the soulwalk. Alena couldn’t find them at all.

  Jace and the others had done well.

  She dropped out of the soulwalk and joined them. Just as she had felt, two soulwalkers lay at the feet of Jace and Ren. Her brother looked shaken, and she supposed for good reason. Distracted as they were by Alena’s attack in the soulwalk, they wouldn’t have put up any defense.

  It had been years since she had seen a Lolani soulwalker up close, but there were several things different about these two. The ones in Landow hadn’t carried swords, but these did. And their soulwalking skill, while not weak, wasn’t as strong as those who had visited Landow. Their clothes were different, too. Alena wondered if there were different categories of soulwalkers serving the queen.

  There was no time to consider the question, though. The sounds of battle echoed faintly from outside and they had one task above all others. They ran, led by Ren.

  Every so often, Alena stopped to soulwalk ahead of them. She remained alert for traps and weavings, but it seemed like the priests had focused their attention only on the entrance.

  She wished they had more time. This tunnel was even more fascinating than the others they’d passed through. It was lined with scripts begging to be translated, crying out their secrets to any who would open their eyes. They passed more knowledge and history with every step than she had even realized existed through most of her childhood.

  They made it to a maze without encountering another soul, and Alena soon forgave Ren for every false staircase they had climbed. As Weylen’s Senki, he knew the path through the maze and led them through with unfailing precision, never once taking a wrong turn. Given its size and complexity, without him she wasn’t sure she ever would have found her way.

  After a while, the now familiar blue light of a glowing gate appeared and guided them the last steps of their journey. There had been a heavy door here once, but it had been broken wide open.