The King's Gate

by K T Munson

  Elisabeth’s turned her slivery head. “Did your father do that to her?” she asked softly.

  “No,” Nauberon responded, and Ethandirill could see the hurt, though he hid it well. “She did it to herself.”

  “That’s terrible,” Nanette whispered behind him, and Ethandirill loved her more for it.

  Ki crossed his arms unconvinced. “Can you control her?” he asked.

  “In a way. She will not like that the false king had taken hold of Morhaven. I can direct her to Arawn and leave her to do as Chanekues must,” Nauberon responded. “If I must I can order her.”

  “There are always consequences for using our ability, brother,” Ethandirill said, but Nauberon turned away from his brother, as though to ward off the words.

  Elisabeth reached out and snatched a vase from the shelf. “Only as an absolute last resort.” She held the object out to him.

  “Of course,” he consented as he took it from her. “I believe it is time Arawn was dealt with. What is your plan?”

  Chapter 52: The Divine Court

  “I’m not leaving you,” Ki insisted.

  Elisabeth looked at him, the corner of one lip rising in a coy grin. “Don’t make me kill you again.”

  Ki almost felt like laughing. Elisabeth was tense, which Ki could see in her body language, but she was also confident. Whatever had happened had left her feeling unstoppable. Nothing else explained why she had challenged King Nauberon with complete self-assurance. Ki smiled at her, sharing the intimate moment.

  “We don’t have time for argument,” King Nauberon said, walking up to the full-length mirror at the bedroom side of the chamber.

  Ki glanced at the edges of the room that went off into nothing—a floating square space surrounded by a void. He didn’t know if it was right to call it a room. The entire cottage on Lyreane into the space could easily fit there, and then some. This was the power of the Det Mor, a place that could be created with a word from literally nothing. At least when Elisabeth faced Arawn she would have a Det Morian by her side. Then again, the idea of facing Arawn was not nearly as terrifying as leaving Elisabeth unprotected.

  “You know why you must go,” Elisabeth whispered. He frowned, but her gaze pierced his soul, and he nodded his consent.

  “Valentine,” King Nauberon ordered, his voice full of power.

  Instantly, the image in the mirror swirled and fractured, and then Valentine appeared. He looked at the faces in the room, squeaked in surprise, and tried to run. King Nauberon reached into the mirror and yanked Valentine into the room by the back of his shirt, depositing him on the ground. The demon held up his hands as though to defend himself and sniveled in fear.

  “You will take them to Tym Resh,” King Nauberon ordered the quivering Valentine.

  “Really, Nauberon,” Ishtar’s voice said an instant before she stepped through the mirror, “you could have simply asked.”

  Ki couldn’t look away from her. She was a strange beauty and something about her put him on high alert. Once Ishtar was fully in the room, she put a hand on King Nauberon’s shoulder. She kissed him square on the mouth. Everyone in the room was stunned into silence.

  “Don’t do that,” King Nauberon said, his voice tight but even.

  “You’ll have to get used to it,” Ishtar responded before turning to the rest of the people in the room. When her gaze fell on Elisabeth, she exclaimed, “Look at that hair!” Ishtar lifted her head in Elisabeth’s direction and took in a deep breathe through her nose, which caused Elisabeth to blush. “You’ve been blessed.”

  “Ishtar,” King Nauberon warned.

  Ishtar turned just her head toward him and jutted her chin out. “Beware your tone, love. We are not bound yet.”

  Ki stared at them, and Elisabeth opened her mouth in shock. “That’s what she gets,” Elisabeth whispered under her breath. “You become Queen.”

  Immediately, Ki understood. King Nauberon would marry Ishtar, although they didn’t marry like mortals did. They would be bound for life. Whatever Ishtar had done, it had come at that cost. Ki glanced at Ethandirill, expecting to find him as surprised but saw only a smirk on his lips. He looked amused.

  “We don’t have time to waste,” Ethandirill said, interrupting them. “Lady Ishtar, by your permission may we pass?”

  Ishtar’s lips curled back, and for a moment she reminded Ki of a hungry cat who’d just found a mouse. Elisabeth took a step toward him, putting herself directly between Ishtar and Ethandirill, who was still with Nanette. The lady of war and love acknowledged Elisabeth’s move. Any act on them was an act against her. Ki wanted to move forward to protect her, but this was not his place. Here, Elisabeth had the final say.

  Ishtar’s arms swept wide. “As you wish.” Her fiery gaze shifted to her demon. “Valentine, take them to Tym Resh. Just beyond the inner temple should work.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Valentine stood and touched the mirror. It immediately swirled, and Valentine stepped through. His head popped back through the mirror’s surface a moment later, and he said, “Come along.”

  Nanette rushed over to Elisabeth and hugged her tightly. They shared a whispered conversation before Ethandirill nodded to Elisabeth. She dipped her head in return, and understanding passed between them before Nanette and Ethandirill passed through the mirror. Ki hesitated. He didn’t want to be parted from her, but he understood he could neither stay nor take her with him—they all had their roles to play.

  Elisabeth glanced at King Nauberon and Ishtar before facing Ki fully. She looked into his eyes, and he saw the love there. No words needed to be uttered. He touched the inside of her wrist with his fingers, and Elisabeth turned her hand to him, her fingers like whispers across his palm.

  “You are more of a person than anyone I have ever known,” Elisabeth said softly. “Do not let what you are stop you from becoming who you want to be. I understand that completely now.”

  He swallowed, feeling the gift of her words. Many called him an abomination, scorned him for his condition, but Elisabeth was telling him that she loved him because of who he chose to be, not what had had been made into. Forgetting their audience, Ki pulled Elisabeth against him. Crushing his lips to hers, he told her in his own way that he loved her, pouring out his affection into that single kiss.

  He tore himself away from her, finally, and walked across the room, sparing a glare in King Nauberon’s direction before stepping through the mirror. Ethandirill and Nanette were waiting on the other side. When Valentine closed the mirror, Ki’s frown deepened. He did not trust Ishtar, and he did not like leaving Elisabeth with them.

  “Come along,” Valentine intoned.

  Something skittered across the inside of the wall, and Nanette clung to Ethandirill at the sound. Ki put his hands on the hilts of his daggers. Valentine didn’t seem at all disturbed by the sound and continued to walk.

  “What was that?” Ethandirill asked.

  “Time parasites,” Valentine replied calmly.

  “Can they get through?” Ki asked as Nanette’s eyes widened in fear.

  “No,” the demon responded with a shrug. “They are not in this dimension.”

  “Dimension?” Nanette whispered and looked at Ethandirill questioningly.

  Ki didn’t know much more, but he knew enough—especially since his experience with Aryan. There were worlds everywhere without gates connecting them back to the Netherworld or Morhaven. With knowledge of these other worlds, then there must be more places that existed that they couldn’t see or even weren’t aware of—like the mirror realm they were in right now.

  When they rounded a corner, Ki saw trees that appeared fractured, as though he was seeing them through broken glass. The massive area was instantly familiar—the inner throne room of Morhaven. At its center, Ki could see the bright blue cottage, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t in The Divine Court but instead safely hidden within the mirror world. Only The Fates would hide their cottage within a dimension directly insid
e the private throne room of the King of Morhaven. Granted what he knew of the mirror realm was limited, but it was a reflection of the world around it and directly connected to it. If Ki was hiding he would not choose such a place. Then again, perhaps The Fates’ choice of location was a silent remark on what they thought of Arawn taking the throne. If that were the case, Ki’s impression was they didn’t think Arawn was up to the task and were thumbing their nose at him as a result. An amusing thought to be sure.

  Nanette stopped walking. “The Fates,” she whispered and looked to Ethandirill.

  “I know,” Ethandirill answered, urging her along.

  As they crossed the bridge that led to the cottage, the door opened. A woman in a veil stood on the threshold. “Dear Valentine, what have you brought us?”

  Valentine walked up to the woman. “I ask only to use the mirror within your home.”

  “That cannot come in the cottage,” Destiny said, pointing at Ki. “The rest of you may pass.”

  “Destiny,” Ethandirill said, catching her attention, “by the law of the Gates you must allow me passage to take hold of my fate. All my companions must come.”

  She regarded them a moment before another woman appeared, also wearing a veil. She was pretty but shorter and, unlike Destiny, smiled in a way that looked genuinely happy. “He has invoked the law, sister. We must let the Guardian have the mirror outside the cottage.”

  “Thank you, Melody,” Ethandirill said. He patted Nanette’s arm and stepped away from her.

  Destiny nodded and bowed away from the door. Valentine’s earlier levity was gone as Ethandirill entered the cottage alone. Ki moved so that he could see through the doorway. He was started by what he saw. Melody led Ethandirill through a kitchen area and down a hallway that extended well past the length of the house. He looked to his companions, but they showed no such wonder at how the inside of a cottage could exceed its outside. They just looked worried.

  “The mirror,” Ethandirill said, as he carried it out of the cottage. The women followed him out and closed the door behind him.

  A third woman joined them. Unlike the others, her headdress was well above her eyes but he couldn’t seem to make out her mouth below her petite nose. He leaned forward and was immediately startled to realize she didn’t have one. Where a mouth should have been, there was only flesh.

  Ethandirill leaned the mirror against the house and beckoned Valentine over. The high demon wasted no time in opening the passage. He slipped through and then came back and drew them through one at a time.

  Ki went through last. He landed hard on the other side and found Valentine holding his hands up as though surrendering. A loud gonging noise was all around them, intruding on his thoughts. Rubbing his backside, he looked to a group of men holding weapons toward him.

  “Where did you come from?” two men in full armor and spears demanded.

  Valentine took a step back, and one of the men jammed the spear in their face. “Don’t you move,” he said.

  “Troy,” Ki said as he got to his feet. “We are looking for the Gate Guardians Troy and Meredith.”

  “Why are you looking for them?” one asked, eyeing them warily.

  “Because of me,” Ethandirill answered, moving closer to them. “My name is Ethandirill, and I am the new Gate Guardian for Ashlad.”

  More guards in strange robes arrived, as suspicious as the first. Valentine kept inching closer to the mirror, probably to make his escape. Ki couldn’t blame him. Ethandirill was arguing with the guard, demanding to see the Gate Guardian of Tym Resh.

  It didn’t take long for Troy to appear. His eyes scanned the group “Ki!” he called. “Ethandirill! Nanette!” He looked around them. “Where are Elisabeth,” Troy paused, “and Malthael?”

  The group exchanged glances. It was Nanette who stepped forward. “Malthael died saving Elisabeth.”

  “It is as we feared,” Meredith said, coming to stand beside Troy. “Any knowledge of who the next Guardian is?”

  “I am,” Ethandirill answered, which seemed to surprise the other Gate Guardians. “We have to plan and must act quickly.”

  “Return to your duties,” Meredith ordered the guards.

  Troy was grieving, Ki could see it on his face, but none of them had time to mourn properly. “We need to work swiftly,” Ki said gently. “I must go to Lyreane and speak with Kerrigan.”

  “Follow me,” Meredith managed before leading them deeper into the temple.

  Chapter 53: The Divine Court

  With an uneasy heart packed with dread and hope, Elisabeth watched them go. When they were alone, Ishtar turned and regarded her. Elisabeth didn’t trust her completely, but having Ishtar as a balance to King Nauberon brought her some small comfort. She feared, however, that she had only seen Ishtar’s kinder side, the loving one. She was not prepared for the creature of war—Ishtar’s fabled other side.

  “Shall we?” Ishtar said.

  “You’re not coming,” King Nauberon told his future wife. The Mystic Elevator appeared, and he started toward it.

  “You’re going to need my assistance,” Ishtar said.

  Elisabeth followed her toward the elevator. She fought back a smile as King Nauberon glared at Ishtar, who put her hands on her hips. They argued in hushed tones. For such long-lived creatures, they acted very mortal. Elisabeth stepped into the Mystic Elevator, thinking over her plan. Every angle, possibility, and eventuality streamed through her mind.

  “We need to go,” Elisabeth insisted, interrupting them. “Ishtar should come, as we cannot anticipate what Arawn will do now that he is injured. We may need an extra set of hands.”

  “The mortal is right,” Ishtar replied with a confident smile. She stepped into the elevator. “You do know, after all, what I can do with my hands.”

  Looking perturbed, King Nauberon joined them in the Mystic Elevator. The doors closed, and Elisabeth could feel the slight vibration of the contraption.

  She did not appreciate that the two of them were acting so calm about the entire situation. They were about to face one of the most terrifying people she’d ever fought.

  The Mystic Elevator’s pulsations slowed and then stopped entirely. Elisabeth swallowed, her throat tight, while her thoughts were preoccupied by Malthael and the spirit of Morhaven. It was her responsibility to see this through, and perhaps it had always been meant to be that way. She was thankful that those she loved were far away yet she wouldn’t have to face him alone.

  The doors opened, and light from the Mystic Elevator fell across the throne room. There was a golden gate off to the right, its translucent maw glowing a soft rust. The room was eerily dark despite the two sources of light, and it took Elisabeth’s eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, her heart stopped.

  A Weaver clicked as it stepped through the gate. “It’s a trap,” Elisabeth whispered an instant before something rammed into the elevator.

  Elisabeth slammed into the back of the elevator. Ishtar and King Nauberon, who had been closer to the opening, fell out into the group of waiting Weavers. When the elevator settled, Elisabeth was lying on its floor. Hearing the Weavers clicking rapidly, she heaved herself up.

  She stalked to the opening and peered out. Light flashed around the room, and the dozen or so Weavers she could see were focused on her companions. She peered around the corner to see what had hit the elevator. As she did, a tentacle wrapped around the roof of it. Shifting out of its reach, Elisabeth called an energy sword to life. More black tentacles appeared, and Elisabeth immediately knew it was a Shadow. She could see the ether that rose off it like black steam.

  Elisabeth focused. Now that she was blessed, she could pull life from everything. Another tentacle snapped around the inside of the door. Elisabeth’s hand shot out, and she touched it. Immediately its inky blackness was bleached white. The creature roared and began to retreat. Elisabeth jumped into the room as the creature withdrew. An instant later, the Mystic Elevator vanished. It was only then that she realized sh
e was no longer in the same room with King Nauberon and Ishtar.

  All of the hair on her arms stood at end. She felt very much alone. The darkness in the room was punctuated only by a single shaft of light far above her head. The room was cold, and a musty odor permeated it. Besides her breathing, the only sound was a slow drip of water in the distance. It echoed in her mind like drums of war. When she felt someone watching her, fear laced up her spine, but she fought it back and steeled herself.

  “Are you going to kill me from the shadows?” Elisabeth asked, searching the darkness for any movement as she turned in a slow circle. “Like a coward?”

  “I won’t need to.”

  Elisabeth whirled toward the sound of Arawn’s voice. She could see his dark shadowy figure by the hearth. He was not holding his axe or bow and stood with his arms clasped in front of him. She could not see his eyes but felt their coldness. Her heart quickened as her nerves threatened to break.

  Before she could muster a response, he spoke again. “Will you give me the shard?”

  “I will not,” Elisabeth replied, raising her head. “And you will not break me.”

  “I won’t have to.” Arawn’s voice was confident and sinister. “The Fallen shall weaken you.”

  The door behind her rattled, and she called her energy sword into existence. The glow cast the edge of the room, a ruined place, to life. The soft clatter of a door closing behind her drew her attention back to where Arawn had been only a moment before. She strode toward it and heard a terrible groaning noise.

  Elisabeth gasped. A row of spirts stood just inside the massive doors. The purple glow from them revealed much more of the dilapidated room. Ruined stone and timbers belied a once opulent design. More of The Fallen materialized through the door. Her mind reeled as she tried to understand where they were. She called up a shield to protect herself.

  These were stronger spirits. They were of Old Haven and the mysterious massacre that happened there—lost, tormented souls that haunted and killed those that wandered into their domain. The only person they feared was the King, but even the former King of Morhaven could not control them. So he’d caged in them in the place of their demise.