The King's Gate

by K T Munson

“Allow me,” she said softly and held her hands out.

  She opened her mouth and blue light poured out of them as she consumed their life-force. They stumbled to a halt. She could hear the dragons redouble their attack, but all she cared about was the twenty or so men’s life-forces filling her. Her nugget of power burned hot as it was packed to the brim.

  Closing her mouth, she watched as the last guard fall to the ground, utterly spent. They would be bothering no one. Ethandirill hurried them around the group of fallen guards and led them to the fortress’s entrance point. A gong filled the air, and the ground shook so hard that Nanette fell to her knees, the hood of her invisibility cloak slipping off her head. Elisabeth fought to keep her own balance as another wave of guards appeared. The dragons wasted no time in attacking, unburdened by the quaking, they filled the air with fire and scorched the earth.

  “He is closing the court!” Ethandirill called above the fever pitch of battle. “He’s initiating a lockdown.”

  When the quaking subsided, they bolted to the fortress’s opening. Elisabeth’s arms pumped at her sides. She lifted her knee-length battle skirt and jumped over a fallen guard, whose body was broken and charred.

  “Here!” Ethandirill called, he reached his spare hand back—the other hand gripping an invisible Nanette.

  Elisabeth clasped it and reached back for Ki. She could see him over her shoulder as he easily took hold. She could feel the familiar warmth of his hand as she tightened her hold. Ki turned back for Malthael and took the reformed demon’s hand a moment before Ethandirill, and she assumed Nanette, who had put her hood back up, turned their entire party towards a nook in the building’s exterior. Behind them guards were waylaid by dragons but they were throwing spears at the beasts, time was running out. Elisabeth held her breathe as they rushed into what appeared to be a solid wall. The walls on each side of the narrow recess started closing as Elisabeth passed through. Ki followed her an instant later, and Malthael just narrowly made it. The rumbling stopped, and the Elisabeth listened to the stronghold settle.

  “Are we locked in?” Nanette whispered into the darkness.

  There was a short pause. “Yes,” Ethandirill confirmed before leading them deeper into the Divine Court.

  Chapter 41: The Divine Court

  They stepped into the normally bright hallway of the Divine Court, which was now dim. Trees and columns that Nanette was sure hadn’t been there before crowded it. The eerie glow that filled the Divine Court made her hair stand on end. Everyone else let go of each other’s hands, but she held tight to Ethandirill’s. She slipped her other hand into her pocket and tightened her fingers on the compass. Ethandirill led them toward the throne room through a passageway she recognized from her last visit.

  So far they had seen no one in the hallways or in the rooms they passed. The same orange glow covered everything. Worse, they were trapped within this place, and their only means of escape was to kill Arawn and release King Nauberon.

  Nanette glanced at Elisabeth to try to read her expression. Her friend was determined yes, but she also appeared distracted. Before Nanette could speak, Ethandirill put up a hand. They scanned their surroundings, and Nanette desperately tried to remember what happened Ethandirill had told them would happen when the Divine Court went on lockdown. It was difficult to focus with all the excitement.

  “My brother is that way,” Ethandirill said softly, pointing toward an archway to his left. “I believe Arawn is that way.” He pointed to the door in front of them.

  Nanette tightened her hold. “Already?” she whispered.

  He glanced down at her. “What is the watch saying?” he asked.

  Nanette suppressed a sigh, took the compass out, and held it up. She focused like he’d had her practice, and at first nothing happened. Biting her lip, she shifted her hold on the compass. Finally, she felt it, a faint pulsating in the direction of the door to their left.

  “I feel it,” she whispered.

  Ethandirill nodded. He leaned forward before she could react and kissed her. It was fast and tender and over too quickly. The cold reality swept in: she had a mission to accomplish. It was vital that she focus so she could lead Ki and Malthael to King Nauberon and they could cure him.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. Nanette blushed and whispered the same back.

  He smiled before turning and leaving. Elisabeth hugged Ki, holding on tight. “I’m fighting for our future,” Ki said. “Come back to me, El.”

  Elisabeth framed his face with her hands. “You come back to me alive, whatever it takes.”

  Ki nodded and released her. He turned to Nanette, took his daggers out, and led them out the door to their left. Nanette followed but glanced back.

  Malthael lingered, staring at Elisabeth. “Be careful,” Malthael said.

  “You too,” Elisabeth replied softly before she hurried after Ethandirill, “Papa.”

  Malthael looked shocked, and then a slow smile spread across his face. There was a renewed vigor in his step as he hurried to join Nanette and Ki.

  Ki checked corners and rooms before waving for them to follow. Nanette guided them at every turn.

  “She’ll forgive you,” Nanette said to Malthael as Ki checked a junction.

  Malthael nodded. “She just told me she already has.”

  Chapter 42: The Divine Court

  Ki turned down the hallway with Nanette and Malthael close behind. He hated to leave Elisabeth but was glad to know she didn’t fight alone. Ethandirill would even out their odds. Now all they had to do was get to the Mystic Elevator and give King Nauberon the cure. Once they freed him, King Nauberon would likely be able to bring Arawn to heel—by surrender or death.

  Nanette stopped at a junction and held the compass up. Since she had joined with Ethandirill, she could do things that Malthael and Ki could not. In a way she was now a Det Morian—a mortal one, but a binding was a binding. Ki spotted a handful of guards and waved the other two back. Malthael’s hand went to his sword.

  “That way,” Nanette said whispered, pointing around the corner.

  “Through the menacing guards, you mean?” Ki asked with a sly glance.

  Nanette nodded. Ki tipped his head to the side. “Of course.”

  Ki looked at the seven guards and rolled his shoulders.

  “Shall I get them or guard Nanette?” Malthael asked. Ki could see his bloodlust.

  “I can’t die,” Ki reminded him, and without another word he charged.

  The crow-like armored guards unsheathed their weapons. Ki and his daggers were small by comparison but just as deadly. As the first guard brought a blade down, Ki slipped between his legs and sliced the back of his ankles. The guard gave a cry and fell forward. Ki rolled to his feet and buried one dagger under another guard’s arm.

  The slice pierced the heart, and Ki ducked under the guard’s arm. He caught the third guard’s arm and twisted his arm around. He slipped around behind him and buried his dagger in the guard’s neck. Shoving him forward so he fell to his knees, Ki jumped off of his most recent victim’s back. Ki’s knees slammed into the last guard’s chest. He wedged his blades between the last guard’s helmet and breastplate, pushing it in up to the hilt.

  Three other guards appeared as the last of the first group fell. One of the new guards charged as he swung his blade down. Ki rolled toward the swing and kicked the weapon to the side so that it ended up buried in the guard’s fallen comrade. Ki sliced his dagger across the guard’s hand, severing it. The guard stumbled back. The last two were moving toward Ki as he came to his feet.

  Ki charged. The pair of guards brought up their weapons and swung toward him. He ducked under the swing from one guard and sidestepped that of the other. The first guard was pushed off balance by Ki’s shoulder, and he stumbled as Ki’s blade found the back of the second guard’s neck.

  The first guard’s helmet fell off as he hit the ground. He scrambled for his sword, but before he could reach it, Ki stabbed him in the
top of his head.

  Ki used the back of his hand to wipe blood splatter from his face. He turned back and scanned the pile of bodies for any sign of life before nodding to Nanette and Malthael.

  Malthael appeared impressed. Nanette’s mouth hung open. Ki realized she had never seen him in action before. Part of him reveled in the feeling of his total victory. Another part was repulsed by how easy killing had become for him.

  “Let’s go,” Ki said.

  Nanette navigated them to a door. They carefully opened it and checked the room for guards. There, in the center of the room, sat the Mystic Elevator just as Ki had remembered it. His blood-smeared daggers were still in his hands, just in case something else tried to come between them and completing their mission. The faster he completed it, the faster he could get back to Elisabeth and help her.

  Nanette cautiously strode up to the elevator and held up the compass. After a moment, the Mystic Elevator trembled and the doors opened. Nanette took a cautious step back, but it was for naught, as only the stone statue of King Nauberon was in there. He was exactly as they had left him, frozen in stone.

  “Do you have the antidote?” Nanette asked Ki.

  Ki nodded his head toward Malthael. Carefully, the demon approached with the vial. He twisting off the top, where a hollow needle surrounded by wax stuck out from the bottle’s opening, waiting to puncture the King’s skin. Malthael nodded to Nanette. She approached and pressed the compass to Nauberon’s chest.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Nanette shuffled from foot to foot and turned the compass over in her hand. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Just as she asked, a hairline crack formed. It spread across King Nauberon’s chest. Ki put his arm out and moved Nanette back. Her eyes grew wide as Malthael positioned himself on the side of the elevator. As the cracks spread, light started to pour out of them. Ki was so focused on the elevator that he almost didn’t catch the movement out of the corner of his eye.

  Ki shoved Nanette back, and she stumbled and fell. A dark shape passed lightning fast over him, just narrowly missing Ki’s head. Ki rolled and came up with his daggers poised to kill. Two reptilian dark-skinned creatures were on the ceiling. They had spikes on their tails. Though he could see their eyes, it was hard to make them out in the dark corners of the room unless they moved.

  “Malthael?” Ki said in a level voice. “You’d better hurry.”

  The first lizard that had attacked struck out at him as the second one jumped to the floor in front of Nanette. She scrambled back out the door. Ki threw one of his knives to slow down the creature pursuing her. He backed up as the creature in front of him hissed, its tongue slipping out between its lips. Though it looked more like a snake than a lizard, it had legs.

  “They are time parasites,” King Nauberon said quietly. “They want to consume your time. They’ve bled through from another world. The circumstances are worse than I first thought.”

  He slumped against the elevator as Malthael held his sword at the ready. Ki nodded his head and took two quick steps back. When the creature advanced, he moved back and threw a small knife. The metal stuck in the time parasite’s side as it lashed out at him. Malthael charged.

  Chapter 43: The Divine Court

  Ethandirill studied the ornate doors that extended from ceiling to floor and led into the next room. They were different doors then the ones that normally led into the room beyond, the wrong ones, but his blood sung to him the right way. The lockdown could not fool a Det Morian—he knew instinctively the way to the crown and the throne. He opened one of the massive doors with Elisabeth right behind him. When they stepped into the room, six guards stopped their discussion and turned toward them. There was hesitation and surprise but Arawn ruled now and their uncertainty was short lived.

  Before they could react, Elisabeth opened her arms and began to drain their life force. Her hands shook, and she faltered. She took a step back. Ethandirill couldn’t believe what he was seeing—Elisabeth was afraid. Her eyes looked unfocused. She was remembering. Ethandirill realized she wasn’t afraid of them—she wasn’t shying away from them, she appeared reluctant to use her abilities. Could it be that she was afraid of what she could do? Whatever Arawn had shown her had cut deeply.

  “Drop your weapons,” Ethandirill commanded the guards, and they released them, though not before one guard managed to slip into the next room. He turned to Elisabeth. “I need you here.”

  After a moment of hesitation, the guards charged despite being unarmed. Ethandirill readied his curved sword, but he didn’t want to kill them. Before he could react, Elisabeth stepped in front of him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She threw her arms out, and her life force knocked the guards back. They landed hard, some slamming back against the door. A few tried to get to their feet, but they were too dazed to succeed.

  Ethandirill put a hand on Elisabeth’s shoulder. “You are stronger than you think you are.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” she replied dryly.

  Suddenly, the double doors swung opened and Arawn was there. Elisabeth stiffened at the sight of him, but Ethandirill wasn’t scared. He had his powers back and even terrified Elisabeth could pack a punch. Guards swept under Arawn’s reach as he held the doors wide.

  “Take care of the guards,” Ethandirill told Elisabeth without looking away from Arawn. “I’ll see to Arawn.”

  Elisabeth turned back to the guards rushing toward them and began to draw from them. Ethandirill didn’t wait to see if she was successful or not—he trusted her to follow through. He moved through them as they withered, his attention on Arawn. Arawn bared his teeth as he reached for his massive axes.

  Ethandirill charged and jumped, using a guard on his knees as a springboard. His blade cut across Arawn’s chest, narrowly missing it. His boot connected with Arawn’s chest, sending him backward. Arawn’s axe swept wildly in an arc in front of him, and Ethandirill leaned back, just a breath out of its reach. He caught the underside of the axe in his left hand and yanked it free. Ethandirill had faced death once and now had a future worth fighting for. Arawn would not stand in his way.

  He jerked back as Arawn returned his attack with equal vigor. For an older being well past his prime, Arawn was still the Lord of the Hunt. Ethandirill ducked under another well-timed swing, but when he recovered, Arawn’s fist connected with his jaw. It sent him stumbling more than it should have. Just as Arawn brought his axe down, Ethandirill rolled out of the way, the blade smashing into the ground. Ethandirill sliced across Arawn’s leg and watched with satisfaction as blood welled.

  Arawn roared and kicked out at him. Ethandirill moved out of reach but only narrowly parried Arawn’s next attack, his feet sliding across the ground from the power behind it. Arawn punched him again, and Ethandirill felt his head snap back from the force. He stumbled and Arawn was about to bring a fist down on him again when something slammed into him and sent him flying. Elisabeth appeared, a blue glow of her shield surrounding her as she advanced on the Lord of the Hunt.

  Arawn landed on his feet but then fell to one knee as he slid across the stone floor. Their battle had spilled into the outer throne room as purple leaves fell in a slow continuous fashion—a scene in complete contrast to their battle of life and death. Ethandirill began to circle his prey as Elisabeth attacked again. This time Arawn blocked her single strike with ease, bringing one of his hands up in defense of her life-force. Ethandirill focused on what was covering his hands. Arawn’s right was encased in bone. He knew what type of bone it had to be. The only thing that could kill a Det Morian was a Det Morian. Arawn had dug up bones of his ancestors. His hands could hurt Elisabeth despite the words he’d spoke to protect her.

  Ethandirill caught up with Elisabeth before she could get within Arawn’s reach. “Let go,” she said harshly, trying to pull free.

  “He can hurt you,” Ethandirill said as Arawn regained his footing. “He can hurt us both.”

  Elisabeth’s eyes widened. She n
arrowly threw up a barrier as Arawn returned her assault. They skidded back from the force of the attack. She looked troubled and for good reason.

  Ethandirill put a hand on her shoulder. “Together we can still win.”

  “You are fools!” Arawn called out.

  He leapt into the air and brought the full force of his might down on Elisabeth’s shield. It flared up in a pale blue glow at the hit but remained intact. Ethandirill jumped out of the perimeter shield and slashed at Arawn. The great hunter parried. They traded blows as Elisabeth attacked from the side, keeping a safe distance from Arawn’s fists and swinging axe.

  Ethandirill brought his sword over his right shoulder to block Arawn’s next attack. He hooked his foot under Arawn and pressed into him. His height working against him, Arawn fell back, landing hard. Without giving him a moment to recover, Ethandirill brought his blade down. Arawn moved out of the way, but not quickly enough, Ethandirill’s weapon sinking into his left shoulder.

  Just as triumph sung in his veins, a feminine scream filled the air. Every nerve in his body called to Nanette. She was in trouble. Her fear laced through him like a cold chill. Ethandirill heard a shout as something barreled into him. He heard fabric tear, and he felt something bite into him. He landed hard a few feet from Arawn. Stunned, he felt pain explode in his side.

  He saw Elisabeth’s face. Her hands and attention were on his ribs. Her face was close to his as his vision darkened. A moment later, he felt like he was floating. Something was yanked out of him, causing him to come back to reality. He rolled to his side, coughing. He was a fool. A warrior should never be distracted in battle. Too long he had been alone, untrained to face such foes; he didn’t belong there among heroes like Elisabeth.

  Chaos was all around him. Arawn was up and on the offensive, but Elisabeth kept him at bay. As he struggled to his feet, Ethandirill could tell she was running out of steam. He put his hands out to brace himself, and his fingers hit something. A bloody dagger lay not far from him. In an instant he realized she had saved him, no doubt draining most of her ability in doing so. Twice over he owed her his life.