House of Blades (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (43 page)

Alin shook his head, and it seemed to also have the effect of waking him up; he looked to be dozing off in the saddle. “They’ve run most of the day already,” he said. “They can’t keep this up much longer. I don’t know how long, but...”

Not long enough, Simon was sure. Every couple of miles something would fly overhead or pop out of a Gate. If the mounts didn’t at least last until nightfall, when they had a chance of hiding, they would all die.

Which meant that Simon was down to two options, the first of which was to keep running and hope they weren’t killed. Since he was betting Alin and Leah’s lives as well as his own, that was no choice at all.
 

Which left his second plan.

“Slow up,” he called to the other two, motioning for them to draw their mounts alongside his. “I have an idea.”

He told them. And, as expected, they didn’t like it. Leah protested especially, which was gratifying.

“You’ll be killed,” she said. “Almost certainly. Even in the best case, you’ll still have to get away, which leaves you in the same place you are now.”

“Still better that one of us stays in danger than three of us,” Simon pointed out. “And I’m the only one who can open a Gate to escape, if I get a chance. Just find a hole and stay there until tomorrow, and Alin can Travel you most of the way back to Enosh. Alin, can these bears get back to your Territory on their own?”

Alin shook his head. “I have to bring them through a Gate.”

“Well then,” Simon said. “I guess I’ll be borrowing them for a while.” He was trying to act more confident than he felt, which was surprisingly easy. He felt such little confidence that faking any was more than he really had.

“I guess so,” Alin agreed. “We’ll come back for you, Simon. If we can.”

They wouldn’t be able to, and Simon knew it, whether or not Alin did. He still appreciated the gesture, and he nodded his thanks.

Leah looked like she was trying to say something as well, so Simon saved her the trouble. “Leah, thank you,” he began. He had planned all along to say this, but now that he came to it, actually speaking was more embarrassing than he had expected. He cleared his throat, adjusting the clasp of his cloak to give him something to look at besides her. “Thank you for...under the wagon. Running out. I wouldn’t have escaped if not for that, and you wouldn’t have been caught. So thank you.”

Leah’s face flashed in an odd mixture of emotions, but after a moment she just shot him a shaky smile. “I’m sorry about your mother,” was all she said.

They were approaching a cliff that would, for a few moments at least, hide them from any watchers in the air. “Up there!” Simon called, and shifted his weight. The bear followed, heading in that direction.

“We’ll have to be quick,” Simon said. The other two yelled something, probably agreement.

When they rode between a cliff and another outcropping of rock, hidden as best they could from the sky, they slowed their mounts for just an instant. Just enough for Alin and Leah to hop off and go scurrying for cover.

Simon sped up again, one bear underneath him and one on either side, running together. Hopefully from a distance, it would look like nothing had changed.

Please don’t die out here,
Caela said from his belt.
It would take me ages to get back to the House.

“I’ll do my best,” Simon said out loud. And he rode on, putting the steadily sinking sun behind him. South was death, and Alin and Leah would be heading northwest, so the least he could do was head east. Draw them off.

A cry sounded from far above, and a dry bush to his right burst into flame.

Well, at least some of them were still following him. If nothing else, that would give the other two a little more breathing room.

Steadily tiring, panting more heavily with every step, the white bears lumbered on. Simon wondered how long they would be able to keep it up.

***

Not long, as it turned out, but not from any fault of the bears.
 

Only an hour after Simon had left Alin and Leah, before the sun had even set behind him, a cliff rose up in the distance. It looked like a wall of rock stretching almost horizon to horizon, with only one broad crack in the center providing a way through.

A canyon. Perfect. The best way to get himself caught, especially in unfamiliar lands.

Worse, he could see his hunters to either side: far to the north and south, giant lumbering creatures of steel, or short beasts—maybe the size of a dog—that wore fire on their backs, and at this distance were little more than streaks of flame running through the scrub brush. All headed for the same cavern entrance he was.

“Maybe I can get there first and open a Gate,” he said.

Not likely,
Caela responded.

“Well, here’s hoping.” He booted the bear in the side. Simon wasn’t sure that made the beast go any faster, but it made him feel like he was doing something, so he did it again. The bear growled a little, deep in its chest, and rolled one icy blue eye up to look at him. Simon stopped kicking the bear.

The canyon wasn’t as wide as it had appeared at a distance, barely broad enough to contain all three bears side-by-side. That was an advantage, as Simon saw it: his pursuers wouldn’t be able to see him as easily, and if they did catch up, he would be able to fight them better in a place where numbers wouldn’t count so heavily against him.

Then again, he would have to be careful swinging around a sword the size of Azura in these confines. And a Traveler from a different Territory might even be able to bring the canyon walls down around him. Maybe it was best if it didn’t come to a fight, after all.

As soon as he thought he was hidden well enough, Simon called steel and summoned Azura, not even dismounting before stabbing his sword in the air and concentrating on the Valinhall entry room, cutting slowly through the invisible curtain between worlds.

He drew steadily down, keeping his focus, even as shouts and unspeakable noises came closer and closer behind him. It had to be all the way to the ground, or it wouldn’t be big enough, and a partial Gate would never hold for long enough to get the mounts through. In less than a minute he was almost there; the bottom of the Gate was down to the bear’s chest. It was already wide enough for him to ride through, and the smell the wood and dust of the House cut through the hot desert air. Just a few more seconds.

A sharp-edged steel disc came spinning into the canyon, narrowly missing giving Simon his first haircut in months. It slammed against the canyon wall, rebounded without regard for the laws of the natural world, and came spinning back at Simon’s face.

Simon jerked Azura up and slapped the spinning steel disc out of the air with his blade. It flew over his head, wavered, and vanished into the wind before it was entirely out of sight.

But the Gate hadn’t been completed. It shimmered like heat haze and blew apart.

Simon’s heart blew apart with it. Escape to Valinhall had been his best hope for survival. Now...

Things crowded into the canyon entrance: tall bird-like creatures made of sharp-edged metal, something like a man made entirely out of boulders, a small swarm of flaming ants the size of dogs. Above him, on the top of one canyon wall, a dark Gate opened, filled with a swarm of swirling rocks. A silver Gate leading into what seemed to be a forest of swords opened on the other.

“In the name of Overlord Deborah, put down your arms,” a man shouted from the dark chaos of the rocky Gate. He wore all brown leather, though Simon had difficulty seeing more at that height, and more leather-clad figures were following him through the Gate. Many more.

“By the authority of Malachi, who is lord over these lands, surrender for judgment!” a woman called from the Gate of steel. She was wearing what looked like chainmail, and had several others following her.

“Catch me first!” Simon shouted, which was about as much insolence as he dared; he felt like he might throw up. Then, before he could think much about it, he hopped off the white bear and drew Nye essence to match the steel already rushing through him. As fast as he could, he ran farther down the canyon.

A crack like thunder rang in his ears, and Simon looked up to see that a huge chunk of rock had broken off from one side of the canyon and was falling—slowly, or so it seemed through the veil of Nye essence—falling to block the canyon in front of him. Maybe on top of him, if he was unlucky.

He started to slow, but Caela practically shouted at him.
No!
she screamed.
Forward! Go faster!

So Simon ran faster, not daring to look up, afraid to see a hundred tons of stone crashing down on his head. The canyon was filled with a noise like giants knocking down a stone wall with hammers the size of horses, but Simon kept his eyes fixed on the end of the canyon. Even as a shadow grew wider overhead.

Finally the great chunk of rock slammed into the ground. Behind him. He was nearly knocked off his feet by the impact, saved only by the grace of the Nye. At last, he turned to look.

That end of the canyon was blocked off by a massive slice of rock wedged in between the canyon walls. No one would be following from that direction.

Of course,
Simon reminded himself,
that still leaves the ones on top
.

The men and women on each side of the canyon—one group in shining mail, the other in dull leather—had simply walked forward to see if he survived. When they saw that he had, they began shouting. Creatures made of stone crawled out of the canyon sides, or else formed themselves from fallen rock.

His ears were still ringing from the noise—in fact, he wondered if they were not bleeding—but he still heard a short roar from one of the bears. He turned and, to his surprise, saw that all three bears had survived. One was shoving his nose into Simon’s back as if anxious for him to move on.

That sounded like a good notion to Simon, who turned back forward to continue running.

Only to stop almost immediately. The canyon opened mere feet in front of him, spreading out into a broad bowl. The bowl was huge, big enough to hold all of Myria, with walls even higher than the ones through which he had just passed.

The bowl held no shelter. No place to hide. And, to his frantic eyes, no other way out.

Simon trotted toward the center of the bowl, leading the bears, releasing Azura and both his gifts as he did so. Best to give himself as much time to recover as possible.

“Should I surrender, do you think?” Simon asked.

As far as they’re concerned, you just killed an Overlord,
Caela said. She didn’t sound smug now, though she didn’t sound as grave as Simon thought the situation deserved.
The only thing waiting for you is a long questioning followed by a swift death.

“Yeah, I was afraid of that.” Simon swallowed, hard. “A fight, then?”

Only as much as it takes for you to get away.

“I could escape into the House.” The walls were crawling with summoned beasts now, some made of rocks like the ones he had fought in Orgrith Cave, others made entirely of shining steel, still others blazing with flame.

They’re not going to give you time to open a Gate,
Caela warned him.
As soon as they see you try, they’ll attack.

Simon’s breathing quickened, and he jogged a little faster for the center. Maybe he could make it to the far side, and then...there was no ‘and then.’ Then he would either have enough time to open the Gate—in which case they would pry it open and come after him—or he wouldn’t, in which case he would die immediately.

They won’t give you any time,
Caela repeated.
So you’ll have to earn it. Stop here.

Simon stopped, not quite in the center of the canyon. The three armored bears faced away from him, ringing him as best they could. Trying to protect him, even now.

You are a member of the Dragon Army,
Caela said.
A Traveler of Valinhall. Kai never told you what that means.

It wasn’t a question, but Simon responded anyway. “No.”

What Valinhall Travelers are best at—where they excel—is in combat with other Territories. No other Territory better equips its Travelers for battle than yours. No one is more ready for this fight than you are.

“That’s not saying a lot,” Simon muttered, but Caela ignored him.

You have only one chance. You have to get to the Travelers on the top of the canyon before they realize what you’re doing. You have to hit them so fast, so hard, that they either die, run away, or hesitate long enough for you to retreat into the House. That is your battle plan.

A silver javelin launched through the air, aimed straight at Simon’s chest, but one of the bears reared up and knocked it down before it could reach him. The gold-armored beast roared its defiance.

The summoned creatures were closing in now. The silver-bladed bird shrieked, and when it did, dozens of other monsters made horrible sounds in concert.

“Can I do it?” Simon asked. His hands shook.

You’re about to,
Caela said, with enough confidence in her voice that Simon almost believed her.
Head straight for those Travelers, and carve through anything standing in your way. Wait for my signal.

The shadow-chains twisted down his arms, hard and cold. Simon raised the hood of his cloak, cutting the glare from the sun.

Five seconds from now,
Caela told him.

Four.
One of the bears leaped to meet a rock golem, and the two went down in a whirlwind of dust and claws. Simon crouched on the balls of his feet, holding out one hand, ready to summon Azura.

Three
. A fiery ant the size of a wolfhound scampered in to try and bite Simon’s ankle, but before he could react, the insect was crushed by one of the steel bird’s talons.

Two
. The bird put its metallic beak inches from Simon’s face and let out another earsplitting shriek, trying to intimidate him.

One
. The beak drew back, preparing to strike like an uncoiling viper.

Now.

His power filled him, Azura flashed into his hands, and he leaped.