by Ryan Kirk
A ball of flame appeared in Regar’s hand, not as impressive as his earlier displays, but still several orders of magnitude greater than anything Brandt could summon.
It seemed fitting he would meet his end through the power of the same affinity he had used against so many others.
Regar raised his hand and aimed the ball of fire at Brandt. “Goodbye, Brandt.”
58
The queen looked at Alena with her icy gaze. Despite this being their first meeting in the physical world, that gaze seemed all too familiar. But it was not filled with hate, the way Alena expected. Instead, it seemed contemplative. The queen studied her.
“You are the soulwalker. Alena.”
Hearing her name voiced by the queen sent a shiver down her spine. There was strength even in the queen’s voice, power that reverberated in every syllable. It promised wisdom, the experience of lifetimes, condensed into one soul. It was intoxicating, though Alena didn’t feel even a hint of compulsion.
The queen’s eyes traveled from Alena to the gate, and something in her gaze seemed off, like it was focused both here and somewhere else. With a start, Alena realized the queen walked in both worlds at once. After examining the gate for less than a heartbeat, the queen’s eyes returned to Alena. “You didn’t take it for yourself.”
“The gates were never meant to be controlled,” Alena said.
“Foolishness,” the queen said. “The gates are but a stepping stone to true power.”
There wasn’t a hint of madness in the queen’s voice, but Alena didn’t believe her. How could the gates be a stepping stone? No power surpassed them.
Except the gates hadn’t saved those who came before, and they had created the weapons.
Some power had overwhelmed even the gates.
It didn’t make sense, but at the same time, it had to be true. It was the only story that fit what she knew. What did the queen know? What was she after?
Despite the fact they had fought several times, Alena couldn’t answer those questions. The queen was a mystery.
But a dangerous one at that. Alena broke away from the queen’s blue eyes to examine the room. She had been so distracted by the queen’s presence she had forgotten that very presence spelled doom for her friends. Every member of her war party lay scattered around the floor. None moved that she could see.
“I haven’t killed any of them, yet.”
The threat of Alena’s noncompliance was clear.
“Why didn’t you take the gate?”
Alena was reminded of a young child, asking why the sky was blue or why apples fell. For all her lifetimes, the queen seemed unable to comprehend her decision. “The gates are not meant for us to control,” she repeated.
“Nonsense! You could’ve fought against me, perhaps better than anyone else, and yet you refuse. Why?”
Had she been a fool? The queen seemed to think that Alena was more dangerous than the others, but was she? Did her soulwalking abilities somehow make her use of the gate more of a threat to the queen?
So many questions, and no answers. The Anders weren’t the only ones playing a game they didn’t understand the rules to.
Even though the queen didn’t move a muscle, her next words almost knocked Alena over. “Take control of the gate.”
Alena stared, incredulous.
The queen looked to the gate. “Nothing taken without struggle has value. Take control of the gate and let us see whose will is greater. It has been far too long since a worthy challenge has appeared before me. I will not waste it.”
Alena licked her lips. The gate was still close enough to touch. She hadn’t moved since coming out of the soulwalk. All she needed to do was reach out. Then she could fight the queen on more even terms. She even knew how to make a stronger connection than the Anders. If not her, then who else? She didn’t like the gates, but perhaps commanding one was her duty.
She looked again around the room. Her friends needed her. And right now, there was nothing she could do to save them. She reached toward the gate.
Then she stopped.
“What are you waiting for?” the queen demanded. “It’s right there.”
Alena didn’t have an answer. Something inside her held her back.
“Do it!”
Knowing that touching the gate and controlling it was what the queen wanted solidified Alena’s determination. What good were her beliefs if she didn’t live them?
She let her hand drop. Then she stared directly into the queen’s cold eyes. “No.”
The queen’s rage was immediate. With a gesture, a gust of wind unlike anything Alena had ever felt picked her up off her feet and threw her across the room. She hit the opposite wall at speed, and the back of her head cracked against the stone. She collapsed to the cold stone floor of the cave, smooth the way that only those that came before could create. Then the queen stepped forward and touched the gate.
Alena’s whole world went white.
59
Brandt and Regar felt the heat at the same time. They both turned their heads, mirroring each other exactly. Considering that Regar held a burning ball of fire in his own hand, the fact that he even noticed the additional heat was indicative of how hot the new source of heat was.
“I’m sorry, son,” said Hanns.
And with that, the dying emperor unleashed an attack of flame, a white-hot tunnel of light and heat that cut into Regar.
Brandt was convinced that the beam was strong enough to cut through a mountain’s worth of stone. It could melt a mountain glacier in a heartbeat, sending a deadly wave of water to some unsuspecting valley. Yet somehow, Regar’s body absorbed it. The beam winked out of existence almost as quickly as it had appeared, and Brandt stood in shock.
There came a point where a mind couldn’t take any more. When wonder followed wonder, awe eventually faded. Brandt wasn’t sure he’d ever be amazed by anything ever again. Regar should be nothing but dust and memories, yet he still stood.
Regar gritted his teeth, and Brandt saw the prince struggled with the same inability to handle the heat Brandt had fought just moments before. Except this time, the scale of the attack was far beyond a mere gatestone.
Off to the side, Hanns collapsed, the last of his energy spent on the attack.
Brandt came to his senses. It wouldn’t take long for Regar to either die from the emperor’s blast or to overcome it, but there was no reason to take a chance.
Brandt reached out with his sword and stabbed it into Regar’s chest. He pushed it through the heart and out the prince’s back.
A father should never be the one to kill his son.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Regar looked down at the sword sticking through his chest with a look of disbelief, then he collapsed, giving up control of the incredible energies coursing through his body.
They found their exit through Brandt’s sword. A wave of pure energy that warped the air blasted from the tip of Brandt’s blade, channeled out through Regar with his dying breath.
The blast tore apart stone, shattering it as though it was nothing more than a brittle pot.
Regar’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. One moment his eyes were full of life and dreams of the future, and the next they were blank orbs, their animating force gone.
As Regar fell he slid back, off Brandt’s blade.
He had killed a prince.
Brandt stared at Regar for a moment and then turned to the emperor. Remarkably, the man was still alive. Brandt rushed over to him and knelt beside him. For a moment, Brandt dared to hope. If the emperor had enough strength for that attack, perhaps he had enough to surprise Brandt one more time. But it was a fool’s hope.
Seeing the emperor’s wounds up close, Brandt didn’t understand how the emperor had attacked at all. The man’s face was pale, his eyes were unfocused, and his hands trembled. The hole in his back bled freely. Tears ran down the emperor’s cheeks, and perhaps for the first time, Brandt saw the emperor not as a ruler but as a ma
n. An old man who had felt honor bound to kill his own son. Brandt didn’t know what comfort it would be, but it was all he had to offer. “You didn’t kill Regar. I killed him. I’m sorry.”
Brandt didn’t know if the emperor heard him or not. His eyes stared at something beyond Brandt’s shoulder, possibly already looking to the gates beyond.
So Brandt repeated himself, over and over, until Hanns breathed his last.
Brandt braced himself. Hanns had been connected to two gates and he couldn’t guess at what the death of such a man might mean.
But the emperor passed to the gate without incident. A slight mountain wind whispered its sorrow, but that was all. He had been one of the most powerful men in all of history, but when he died, the world took no notice.
Brandt allowed himself a moment to grieve. Then he stood and walked over to Regar’s body. He used the tip of his sword to cut away the prince’s shirt around his navel. There, just as the prince had once claimed, was a gatestone embedded in his skin. Brandt cut it out and held the bloody stone in his hand. He felt the power of it the moment he channeled even the slightest amount of his affinity into the stone. He looked up.
His body demanded rest. Just being near the prince and his father as they battled had been exhausting. He was certain that if he lay down and closed his eyes, he’d sleep on the burnt stone of the square for a full day.
But Ana was up there, and the queen was still in Faldun.
As much as he wanted to rest, this didn’t end with the death of the emperor.
It was a long hike to the gate, but that was where this ended.
60
Alena pushed herself to hands and knees, fighting the nausea that made her stomach clench. Her body ached from the impact against the wall, but her true concern was her head. She struggled to focus her thoughts.
The bright light faded. The queen stood next to the gate, eyes closed, hand against the diamond of the weapon.
Alena didn’t know how long it took to control a gate. She couldn’t count on having much time. Soulwalking moved at the speed of thought, faster than the physical world. Anger wrestled with despair. The queen couldn’t have the gate, but Alena didn’t know how to stop her.
Alena channeled her will through her gatestone, desperate for any scrap of power she could acquire. She studied the room through a soulwalk, disappointed but not surprised to see a shield of pure force surrounding the queen, similar to the one her priest had created under Landow. Alena didn’t possess the strength to even crack that protection.
But she had to try.
She pushed against the bubble, then imagined herself attacking it with her father’s knife.
No matter how she struck at it, though, the bubble resisted every attempt she made. The queen mocked her through indifference.
Still soulwalking, Alena raged against the bubble. She stabbed and swung, over and over, screaming as she did.
Nothing.
She fell to her knees in the soulwalk, mirroring her posture in the physical world, her anger burned out.
All she could do was watch as the queen’s plans came to fruition.
Out of nowhere, a wave of power crashed over her, throwing her out of the soulwalk with physical force. Suddenly she was in her body again. Her head rushed toward the floor, but she got her hands in front of her in time to prevent a broken nose.
Bile rose in her throat, and stopping it was hopeless. She vomited on the floor, losing what little she’d eaten today. The stomach acid burned her throat and tongue.
Her heart pounded. What was happening?
The power didn’t stop. It filled every bone and muscle of her body. Her focus returned, sharpening details in the room. She felt every current of air in the room, heard the heartbeats of each of her friends.
To find answers, she dropped into a soulwalk. New connections had been anchored to her, strong threads that glowed with power. She followed those threads and found the gates at the other end.
For a long heartbeat, her mind was blank.
The emperor. When he had tied that weaving to her before they separated. Hanns had bequeathed his gates to her. She had control of both of the imperial gates. Why?
No answers came, but that didn’t change the facts.
She found her feet and clenched her fists.
Then she paused.
If she controlled the gates, Hanns was dead.
She grieved for his loss. They hadn’t agreed on much in his last days, but with the gift of these gates, Alena realized her arguments had hit closer to his heart than she expected. She wasn’t sure she could forgive him, but she understood him better than before.
Now that her choice had been taken away, a lightness settled over her heart. She would fight the queen, and they would see whose will was greater.
If the queen believed the only worthwhile rewards were gained through struggle, Alena would give her that struggle.
Alena looked down at her hands. She saw in two worlds. Both the physical and the soulwalk. She felt light and strong.
Alena studied the queen. The weaving she worked on the gate was more similar to Zolene’s careful threads than the rough lashings of the Anders. Even with the additional complexity, she looked to be nearly done.
Alena stepped up to the sphere of energy protecting the queen and laid her hand upon it.
It burned, but she did not flinch away. With a thought, the sphere shattered. With another thought, she blasted the unprepared queen across the room, using the same wind technique she’d just been the victim of a few moments ago.
The queen recovered before she hit the cave wall, using wind to slow herself. Her eyes were unfocused, uncertain.
Alena didn’t waste the moment of confusion. She didn’t believe she could win a fight in the physical world. Even with the power of the gates, she hadn’t trained the elemental affinities enough to challenge the likes of the queen.
But she could soulwalk better than anyone in the empire.
Alena dropped into the other world, connecting with the queen and dragging her along.
They appeared on the rooftops of Landow.
The queen had taught Alena one lesson she’d never forgotten in their first fight. In a soulwalk, it wasn’t physical skill that mattered. One was limited only by their imagination and will.
Here, it didn’t matter if she couldn’t throw a solid punch in the real world. If she could envision it here, she could do it.
Alena attacked, vanishing and reappearing behind the queen. She drove her fist into the queen’s kidneys, gloating at the feel of her blow striking true. The punch folded the queen in half and sent her skipping across the roof.
Before the queen came to a stop, Alena vanished and reappeared again, this time directly in the path of the queen. She kicked, the blow launching the queen high into the air.
Alena imagined a sword in her hand and it was there.
It was time to end this.
She vanished and reappeared again, this time in the sky, again in the path of the queen. She raised her sword and cut.
But her sword didn’t cut through the queen’s body. It struck steel, the sound deafening. The queen now held her own sword, and had blocked Alena’s cut with ease.
Alena swore as she saw the queen grinning viciously.
She swore again as the queen’s image blurred and she found herself impaled on the queen’s sword.
The queen flung her down. Alena crashed against the roof, sending shingles flying in all directions. She clutched at her side as her lifeblood drained from her.
Landow flickered, and she remembered this was a soulwalk. She took a deep breath and imagined herself whole and healthy.
And she was.
Alena stood up.
She’d lost the element of surprise. Now it was just her against the queen.
She gripped her sword so tightly her knuckles turned white. The queen controlled an entire continent and had lived more lives than Alena could imagine.
Despit
e that, she was bouncing on her toes. She leaned forward, ready for the queen’s next move.
She wanted this.
The queen vanished, and Alena formed a sphere of protection. The queen’s sword cut into the sphere. The protection didn’t stop the cut, but it did slow the attack enough for Alena to respond.
She didn’t bother with the sword. Instead, she stole another idea from the queen. She imagined a sky full of spears, all pointing at the queen. Then she threw them all.
Alena turned to see her enemy impaled by nearly a dozen spears.
Unfortunately, the queen had protected her head and torso. None of the spears were immediately fatal, and soon they fell away from her body, which healed a moment later.
The queen studied her, and Alena’s own mind raced.
Killing most people in the soulwalk would be a simple matter. But Alena realized that killing an experienced soulwalker of equal power might be a challenge she wasn’t prepared for. Damage could happen almost instantly, but both Alena and the queen now shielded their most vital organs, and wounds could be healed as quickly as they were made here, so long as one kept their focus.
Alena settled in for a long fight.
But the queen didn’t attack.
“Join me.”
Alena took a step back. “What?”
“I need warriors like you.”
Alena prepared another attack, this one a single spear floating in the air over her shoulder. Perhaps she could throw it hard enough to pierce the queen’s shield.
The queen didn’t defend herself. Instead, a creature appeared between them, one fashioned from the queen’s knowledge. It appeared far less serpentine than Alena had seen before, but still recognizable.
The creature from the tunnels.
The creature that killed those that came before.
It radiated a cold menace, its regard gelid, making the queen seem a roaring campfire in comparison.
“You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?” the queen asked.
Alena nodded. “They killed those that came before.”
