The King's Gate

by K T Munson

  Elisabeth wouldn’t look at him. Malthael understood she didn’t trust him, understood that he’d been wrong, but that didn’t make it any easier. She was his whole world, and their relationship was broken, possibly irreparably, because of him. That thought alone had kept him awake most nights. That and the fact that Troy was preparing to leave.

  Once they fulfilled their end of the bargain and returned from wherever Ishtar was, Troy intended to travel with Meredith to Tym Resh. Malthael stood in front of the mirror preparing to speak the demon’s name, but he hesitated. This was the first time they’d had an opportunity to be alone.

  “Elsa,” Malthael said. He reached out to touch her arm.

  She flinched. “Don’t.” Her eyes were hard. “Let’s get this done.”

  “You need to listen,” Malthael said softly.

  She cut him off before he could continue. “I don’t need to do anything. You always told me truth was all that mattered, but you lied. I can’t trust anything you say anymore.”

  “I didn’t lie. I told you everything once,” Malthael replied. “You were very young. You asked about your mother, and I told you. That was while I was still grappling with how mortals worked.”

  Elisabeth’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I don’t…I don’t remember that.”

  “I do. It nearly broke me.” Malthael’s hand went to his mouth as he shook his head. “I didn’t realize you’d become so important to me. You were barely five at the time.”

  “What happened?” Elisabeth asked. Malthael relaxed for the first time because at least she wasn’t glaring or running out of the room.

  “You said you hated me. That was I mean and terrible. That I was the reason she was dead.” Malthael nearly wept at the memory. He’d stood outside her door, begging for forgiveness. She’d weighed less than a Netherhound pup at the time, but it was as though she tore his heart from within his chest with the ferocity of a full grown hound. “As a demon who loved nothing but power, deals, and a good fight, it was hard to recognize that I loved you. Somehow you’d wormed your way in, and my newly mortal heart couldn’t take it. Nearly killed me. For some reason you blocked that time and my words from your mind. After that, I couldn’t tell you everything again. I couldn’t see that look in your eyes even one more time. It was selfish, I know.”

  “It was,” Elisabeth whispered, but her expression had softened.

  “Can you forgive me?” he asked, willing to beg.

  She averted her eyes, and he could see her mind working. “One day, but not today. Today it still hurts too much.”

  Malthael nodded. It was more than he had hoped for. He never should have kept the secret for so long, never buried it deep believing it wouldn’t surface. Secrets always had a way of getting out.

  “Are you ready?” Malthael asked.

  She swallowed before lifting her head proudly. “Yes.”

  “Very well,” Malthael said, turning to the mirror. “Valentine.” The mirror remained unchanged. “Valentine.” As the mirror rippled, Malthael took a deep breath. “Valentine,” he said once more.

  The mirror’s image fractured and then dissolved into a purple fog. Valentine appeared. His dark horns were long and pointed, much like those of the antelopes of Hystera. As his pleasant face came into focus, Malthael realized he hadn’t aged in the decades that Malthael had been topside.

  “About time,” Valentine said, revealing his rows of pointed teeth. “You’ve kept Ishtar waiting, which is never wise.”

  Elisabeth reached a hand out. “Don’t dally then.”

  Valentine smiled at Elisabeth before addressing Malthael. “Oh, I like her!”

  His hand appeared through the mirror’s surface, and he yanked Elisabeth through. Her body became a fluid flash of light as it slipped into the Mirror Dimension. When the hand appeared again, Malthael hesitated a second. He’d only experienced dimensional travel once before, but he hadn’t enjoyed it.

  When he was deposited on the other side, Malthael felt lightheaded but knew he was overall unharmed. Elisabeth inspected the room they were in, which glistened as though covered with frost. Malthael recognized it immediately. The brightly colored home was Ishtar’s in Morhaven. She was hiding within her home in the Mirror Dimension right under Arawn’s nose. Malthael was silently impressed—the woman had stones.

  “This way.” Valentine led them though into a second room.

  “Malthael,” Ishtar purred, and instantly a wave of desire washed over him. It nearly brought him to his knees. “Elsariel.”

  “I prefer Elisabeth,” his daughter replied, but her attention was on Malthael. “What is it?” she whispered, touching his arm.

  “Me,” Ishtar said standing. Her beautiful hair glistened, and his fingers itched to touch it. “Anyone not in love is affected by my very presence.” She smiled at Elisabeth. “You aren’t. Let me guess, the assassin?” Elisabeth’s jaw dropped open in surprise. “I do love a rebel.”

  Malthael’s mouth was dry as he tried to focus. “That isn’t why we are here, Ishtar.”

  “I do love seeing you squirm.” Malthael felt himself lurch forward at Ishtar’s bell-like laughter. He was vaguely aware that Ishtar was talking to Elisabeth. “Demon’s normally aren’t as affected. I used to tease him mercilessly, and he’d just glare. I almost prefer him quivering with desire now. More fun this way.”

  Ishtar smiled at him, and he fought every urge to step toward her. Elisabeth stepped in front of him, which temporarily broke the trance. “Valentine, you can take Malthael back. I believe Ishtar and I can settle this without him.”

  Ishtar threw her head back and again laughed. This time her amusement felt genuine, which allowed Malthael to break all the way out of the fog of yearning.

  “You are a fiery one,” she said to Elisabeth. “I watched you as you muddled around in Morhaven and the Netherworld. You are quite impressive for a half-breed.” Every word tried to draw him back over as he forced himself to focus on the back of Elisabeth’s head. Ishtar nodded her head toward Valentine. “You can take him back.”

  Malthael felt himself be guided along, like cattle. He resisted only slightly, his body wanting to stay within the glow of Ishtar’s aura and bask in her beauty as his mind fought to stay with his daughter. Once he left the room, however, he felt better. In the hallway he stopped, and Valentine turned back when he realized Malthael wasn’t following him still.

  “I’ll wait here,” Malthael said, his attention on the doorway where Elisabeth was.

  “Ishtar gave specific instructions,” Valentine answered.

  Malthael crossed his arms in defiance. “The only way I’m going back through the mirror is with my daughter.” He crossed his arms.

  The demon seemed more amused by Malthael’s attempt to intimidate then actually afraid. “We’ll wait here,” he said, “and when Elsariel comes out, I’ll do as my mistress commands.”

  Chapter 35: Mirror Dimension

  Elisabeth didn’t like Ishtar. Every fiber in her being called out against the woman, but she respected her. Who else would hide dare within Morhaven in a different dimension, right under Arawn’s nose? Despite Elisabeth’s dislike of her, she had to admire her brazenness. Plus, Ishtar was helping them, though Elisabeth knew there had to be more to that than met the eye. Ishtar didn’t seem like the type of being to hand over their salvation without a price.

  “What do you want?” Elisabeth asked.

  “More than you can give, my dear,” Ishtar responded as she lounged on an ornate Meridienne styled couch. “Try to be more specific.”

  “What do you want in exchange for the cure?” Elisabeth clarified.

  Ishtar reached onto the side table and picked up a small vial. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about those details. Here is the cure.” She held it out.

  Hesitantly, Elisabeth reached for it. As she drew closer, she saw Ishtar’s flawless skin and perfect purple-blue eyes. They were unlike anything Elisabeth had ever seen. She might not be a
ffected by Ishtar’s powers, but even she couldn’t deny Ishtar’s physical allure.

  Elisabeth caught Ishtar’s hand as she took the vial. “I won’t be making a deal with you later.”

  “My deal isn’t for you, Elsariel,” Ishtar replied before extracting her fingers. “You are only the carrier.”

  Elisabeth studied her face. “King Nauberon? What deal did you make with him?” She held the vial against her chest, loath to be parted from it.

  Ishtar put one hand on her own waist and the other on her head, stroking the one of the many ribbons that decorated her hair. They were golden and shone brightly in her raven black tresses. Elisabeth’s eyes narrowed. There was something about her hair that was familiar.

  “Clever little thing, aren’t you? It wouldn’t be very ladylike to divulge another’s secrets.” Ishtar seemed to vibrate in amusement. “We have more to talk about anyway. Babayaga has made contact. She is ready to receive you in the Dusky Woods.”

  “Babayaga?” Elisabeth asked, confused.

  “She has been protecting your little band of lost misfits, keeping them safe within the bowels of the Dusky Woods,” Ishtar explained as she twisted a coil of her hair around her pointer finger. She gestured dismissively with the other hand. “Even played nice with her sister Yubaba—a feat I never expected, but these are trying times.” She moved into a sitting position and picked up a small crystal glass. “They have a mirror now and are ready to receive you.”

  Elisabeth felt her heart clench. It was one thing to talk about facing Arawn again. It was quite another to put a timeline on that dreadful reunion. Elisabeth fought the urge to vomit on Ishtar’s colorful rug. Ishtar must have seen something on her face because she leaned forward and caught Elisabeth’s spare hand.

  “I saw what he did to you,” Ishtar said, and Elisabeth stiffened. Her tone was almost affectionate. “I wander these halls when Arawn leaves them, and I saw the nightmares you faced.” Ishtar’s voice was calm and even, like she was talking to a wounded animal. “You are stronger than you know. Darienith’s blood runs through your veins, and he never surrendered. He was forced into submission, and even then he defied his King. He always did what he thought was right. I admired his fighting spirit, and you have it twice over.”

  Elisabeth fought down the tears. “You knew my father?” she choked out.

  Ishtar patted her hand. “In another lifetime, Darienith was family, which makes you family.” She spoke almost inaudibly, as though the room itself had ears. “Very little matters in the Divine Court, but blood remembers blood. Arawn shall pay for the misery he has wrought.”

  The initial shock wore off and was replaced with the feeling of a final piece coming together. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Elisabeth asked as she fought back tears. “You were the hand that comforted me in the Inner Sanctum. And it must have been you who called in the favor that sent Malthael to my mother and me.”

  Ishtar leaned back. “Your father never did anything by halves. He called in an old debt, and I called in a new debt. That led Malthael to you and your mother. It was me who gave you a fighting chance.”

  “From whom did you call the debt?” Elisabeth asked, leaning forward.

  “Arawn,” Ishtar said casually, as though reflecting on the weather. “I helped him deliver a message to a young boy. In return, he gave me a favor owed to him by Malthael. Even traded deals must be upheld when they are called in.”

  Elisabeth felt suddenly light headed. “Did Malthael know?”

  “He only knew Arawn’s deal was being called in. Malthael never knew it was me, and I will make sure no one ever does. My involvement must never be known.” Ishtar’s eyes were fiery with intent.

  Elisabeth nodded. “I understand.” Ishtar would silence her if Elisabeth let the secret of Ishtar’s involvement out. “I shall tell no one.”

  “It is in your best interests as well. If you thought you were hunted before, imagine if they knew our connection.” Ishtar shook her head in wonder before releasing Elisabeth’s hand to reach for her glass of wine. “It would never end.”

  Elisabeth watched Ishtar closely as her mind worked out the implications. “Why tell me at all?”

  Ishtar swirled the wine in the crystal glass. “Family matters,” Ishtar responded as she stared at the dark red liquid. “There is little else that does when you live as long as I do.” She sipped at the wine, her eyes unfocused.

  “What promise did Arawn make to my mother?” Elisabeth asked.

  Ishtar froze. The purple in her eyes almost seemed to glow. “Where did you hear such a thing?”

  Elisabeth didn’t respond at first. She didn’t want to reveal what she knew about Serena, and she didn’t want to bring Kerrigan into any conversation with Ishtar. “I can’t tell you.”

  “It is smart to keep your secrets, but Arawn is under the jurisdiction of the Divine Court. If he broke a deal or a promise, he can be punished.” Ishtar explained as she set her wine glass down on the ornate end table. “If you find out the truth, you can evoke the rights of Court—the fortress will take appropriate steps.”

  “If he didn’t confide in you, I believe the only person who knows is Darienith.” Elisabeth’s hopes were dashed.

  “Not necessarily,” Ishtar replied. “The Fates would know. Melody would know.”

  Elisabeth shook her head. “I don’t know where they are, and even if I did why would they help me?”

  “History is fact. Unlike Destiny, who must keep her council, Melody doesn’t play by the same rules, nor is she held to them,” Ishtar said with a sly smile. “Who do you think told Ethandirill the secret to getting out of the Netherworld?”

  Elisabeth felt her mind reel as she connected the dots. That explained where Ethandirill had been. Elisabeth pressed her lips against the back of her fingers as she realized just how much Ishtar had affected her life. If it were not for this moment, Elisabeth realized she may never have known. It was like having a very tricky godmother—for what else could Elisabeth call the woman who had saved her life not once, but twice.

  “It is time you went, little half-breed.” And with those words the magic ended. “Malthael is getting restless in the hallway, and I fear his impatience may result in him acting improper. Best to leave now.”

  Elisabeth turned to leave but then paused. Scrutinizing her relative from the doorway, she thought of how much she had lost already. “When this is done, you and I shall have a proper discussion.”

  Ishtar leaned back. “I’ll count on it.”

  With King Nauberon’s cure in hand, Elisabeth left. Malthael was just outside the door, and he was indeed pacing. He stopped when he saw her, and she no longer felt angry at him, just disappointed.

  For the first time in a while, Elisabeth felt like she was in control of her life. She knew more now, and with that knowledge came hope. As she left the mirror world, Elisabeth was looking to the future and the battle to come. She had every intention of being victorious.

  Chapter 36: Tym Resh

  Cold sweat gathered on Troy’s brow as they made their way to the town of Loveday. It was summer in Tym Resh, and the humidity of the river world made Troy’s health worse. He couldn’t focus, and every jolt of their ship only made Troy’s insides squirm. Meredith had secured passage for their small party, but had remained behind to guard her gate.

  Troy was covered from head to toe, to ensure no one could see the Hysterian markings along his forehead. Both Katallan and Maris were covered as well, though the tall demon drew strange looks from other passengers. Troy glanced back toward the giant wheel that turned and propelled them toward their destination. Were he not so ill, he would have marveled at the invention.

  He stood suddenly and felt as though his head would explode. He stumbled from the wooden bench and toward the sliding door. It fought against him, but he managed to get it open and hurry out to the railing. As he retched over the side, Troy tried to remember what he’d been thinking about.

  He heard someone come up
behind him and felt a pat on his back.

  “Would you like some water?” Maris asked.

  Troy frowned at the canteen as his stomach turned over again. The taste of bile filled his mouth, and he wanted it gone. He wiped his hand across the back of his mouth before he took the canteen and drank deeply. Troy glanced at Maris and then over to his shoulder to where his spirit animal, Tobias sat. Being a hawk, he was a very easy animal to bring anywhere. It made Troy wonder what his spirit animal would be.

  He handed the canteen back before taking a breath of air. It filled his lungs, and he felt almost normal for a moment. “Thank you.”

  Maris glanced around, seeming to stud the faces of the natives who walked by. Most were tall and willowy like Meredith, but some were sturdier and had coppery skin. It almost seemed red to Troy. He’d never paid much attention to skin color, or anything else physical for that matter. Though it had been a shock to see Malthael the first time, that had more to do with the fact that he was a demon than that his dark skin was impossible to miss.

  A gull called out, and he looked at it. The wings of the bird were like backwards arrows, pointing toward its path. It called again, which drew his hearing to other sounds. On the banks of the river, women washed clothes and sung. Their voices carried to him, and it felt as though the water itself was singing.

  Maris put a hand on his shoulder as a couple passed by, their looks probing. “We should go back inside.”

  “What is the name of this river?” Troy stared at it as though expecting it to answer his question.

  Maris paused. For a moment he forgot where he was as he listened to women’s voices and focused on the ripples of the water. “It is the Tym River. You know this.”

  Troy’s concentration was broken. He turned back to Maris and couldn’t remember anything except for losing everything in his stomach to the fishes. Swallowing hard, he tried not to seem distraught.

  “What did you say?” Troy asked, dazed.