Temple of the Traveler: Empress of Dreams (52 page)

“In battle, the commander must be obeyed. The others are of no use.”

Sarajah narrowed her eyes. “How do you know I’ll deliver the Scythe and not hide it away somewhere?”

“You misunderstand. Together, we are the Scythe. Our armors together focus enormous psychic energy. Don’t worry; the blast leaves the buildings and ships intact.”

“That’s horrible,” Sarajah whispered. “I can see why Osos ended the war rather than risk its use in battle. Still, what’s to prevent you from becoming the next tyrant with such a force?”

Ashterah laid a hand on the relatively small woman. “Every time we fire the Scythe, the Dawn person directing the blast is destroyed by the energy focused through him. The cause has to be one you’re willing to die for.”

****

Back in the pit, Tashi held Sarajah in her radiation-proof armor. He closed his eyes and savored the moment. “Were they in time?”

Not wanting his sacrifice to be in vain, she said, “Yes. Thanks to you. And more importantly, I was able to hold off possession because of the training you gave me. I owe you so much. We’ll find a way to fix this.”

“Time passes more quickly near the Rift. It seems I blinked and you were here. Five hundred years will go by before you know it.”

Climbing out of the pit, she lay with her arm dangling over on the rim so that Tashi could hold it. Entering the proto-dream state, she searched for Corrie. When she couldn’t locate the woman, she investigated a smaller, familiar pattern in the same area. She peered into the woman’s dream. Not a true talent, Komiko had been exposed. She was puttering around the dream arena like an ant moving boulders of dirt. In her sleep, she fretted while constructing a mansion. Komiko was all alone in a white kimono.

Entering Komiko’s dream, Sarajah said, “Greetings, witch. Why do you mourn?”

“Ember and her baby were burned down by fire mages.”

“Are you ready for some revenge?”

“Yes, o queen.”

“Good. We’re arriving next Fireday just after dark. We’ll have the advantage then.” Sarajah formed an image of each ship and the troops it carried as she listed their assets. “We want you to mass as many little ships as you can. We call them mosquitoes. When we zap one of the warships with the Scythe or dark clouds, your people should swarm them and kill the mages. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Now repeat it back to me.”

Komiko did so, adding particular emphasis on, “kill the mages.”

Serog perched in pale, human form on the lip of a great, round skylight. The opening let celestial light into a vast marble chamber full of scrolls. The dream palace had appeared in the last few months, but this library was the only place she’d never entered. Humming, Pagaose busily arranged and catalogued the scrolls by category: poetry, history, theology, and song. She watched, tilting her head like a bird as he selected scrolls seemingly at random to place into a bin marked ‘dictate to Scribbles’.

Most intriguing, he took one ancient parchment and placed it between two black covers, tying the spine with white ribbon. Curiosity made her itch. When Pagaose turned his back, she leaned closer. The cover said only: ‘In Loving Memory’.

“This place is sacred to me,” said the emperor. Serog was so startled that she almost fell off her perch. “But if you swear not to harm me or its contents, I will let you enter.”

“Why?”

“You’re sacred as well, ancient spirit. You’re the only one who could appreciate most of what’s in here.”

She floated down in her white kimono, not quite touching the floor. Her face was painted in white makeup, highlighted in the orange-pink of sunset. Serog arched a fine, black eyebrow. “No one else has ever been here?”

He shook his head. “The others use the dream plane for recreation or passion. Only I try to store things that no one else remembers.”

Serog examined some of the titles. “This is priceless. You need to surrender to Sandarac tomorrow and finish transcribing these treasures. He’s attacking with every wizard and weapon he has. If he kills you before—”

“He won’t,” the emperor said quietly. “However, if it would ease your worry, you may pick one item from my library and I’ll put it at the front of my queue for tomorrow morning.”

“What’s in there?” she asked pointing to the memorial folder.

He handed the thin book to her. “I found this when I was looking for a poem for my own daughter’s funeral . . . service.” He choked a little on the words. “It made me think of you, so I made you a copy.”

When she opened it, Serog saw sheet music and words in the ancient tongue. Pagaose sang for her. For the first twenty years of his life, he’d been a tenor for a prison choir. His voice was now deeper, but the training and suffering shone in his words like wood hand-polished for a century. He sang the oldest funeral hymn known to man, given to them by the Dawn race. When he spoke of the loss of his child, she felt the echoes in her own chest. Tears rolled down her face, leaving flesh-colored tracks in her mask of white.

“I shall hold this dear,” Serog said after a respectful silence. “But why give it to me now?”

“Great Lady, I have news of both wonder and sadness for you.” She gripped the book tightly against her chest. “Your daughters Sarajah and Ashterah have met and renewed their vows of sisterhood. They will visit with you as soon as they are able.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “It’s been so long. I feared them all gone. What else?”

“Their first act as a family was to put to rest the dust of Deliah. Ashterah is your only remaining daughter of the Dawn race.”

Serog dropped the last few inches onto the floor of his inner sanctum. He rushed to her side, ready to hold her up. Part of her wanted that support and sympathy, but a goddess could not afford to be weak. She fled the man to be alone in her grief.

****

Pagaose watched the battleground from the safety of the observatory. Using its mighty telescopes, he informed the College of Wizards, “The Archanos fleet is on the horizon: two merchant ships, a barge, and a golden crescent. The crescent is a powerful ship formed by several of the gods joined together in harmony. Ashterah herself commands the vessel. The gods are pushing the barge so it can keep pace with the others.” He stepped back and let a student take measurements again.

Lord Ashford was nervous. “If we can see them, can’t the enemy?”

Vapordoom, the master of the observatory, said, “We’re the highest point around, so we can see farther. His highness’s
assistant
warned Queen Sarajah the moment we spotted them, and Lord Pinetto is circling around to approach using the smaller islands as cover.”

Corrie lay on a cot in the rear of the room, providing communication with the approaching fleet.

“Hmph,” said Ashford with a nod. “We should make this exercise part of the regatta next year.”

The student, after much scribbling, said, “About an hour and ten minutes until first contact, sire.”

“Excellent,” said Pagaose. “Right on schedule. We’ll be able to approach the first ship in the dark, giving us the night-sight advantage.”

Lord Pangborn complained, “Four little boats against four warships. It doesn’t seem advantageous to me.”

Ashford grunted. “They’re spread out all around the island. We’ll be concentrated and take them one at a time. However, I’m not convinced of the plan either.”

Pagaose placed a finger aside his nose, “Magicians hide things in their sleeves. Have faith.” He sat by Corrie’s side, holding her hand. “An hour ten,” he whispered in her ear, giving exact map coordinates for where the first conflict would take place. The Green’s ship, the
Call
, nosed out in front a little in response.

As the sky turned reddish-orange at sundown, a panicked student said, “Something’s happening on the deck of the
Rebirth
. They’re sending mirror flashes to another ship, the
Third Doom
. It’s weighing anchor and relaying the message.”

The emperor said, “It’s starting early. Someone must have warned them. Abandon stealth. A thousand years of planning and it all comes down to a few bits.”

Moments later Corrie startled awake with panicked breathing. “The woman in white makeup pushed me into the crater. I had to wake up.” She clutched the bird figurine to calm her speeding heart.

“Serog,” deduced Pagaose.

“I got the message to Sarajah first,” panted Corrie.

“Good woman,” said the emperor, kissing her forehead. “You may have just saved us. Try to return to dream state, just in case.”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

He took her chin in his hand and whispered, “We are nobles of the highest tier; we don’t use the word can’t.”

She smiled at him and took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

Lord Vapordoom announced, “The golden crescent of Ashterah has shifted positions. It’s now pushing the
Call
at full sail; they’re going twice as fast as before.”

****

On the platform in the middle of the harbor, Niftkin paced the magic circle. “The waiting is the worst part.”

“No, hearing you whine like a girl is worse,” Komiko replied. One of the six archers on the listing ship snickered. So Niftkin didn’t lose face, she added, “Are you worried there’ll be any more fire-mage assassination attempts? You’re in a pretty strategic spot here. If they kill you or move the One True Sword, they can win.”

“They already tried,” he said, his eyes sweeping the pink horizon as the sun went down. “One of them stowed away on the supply yachts.”

“Crap,” muttered the witch. “That’s why Pagaose asked me to stay here and draw my vortex wards. I thought he just didn’t want me reminding him of Ember.”

“We didn’t want the capture common knowledge. My archers disabled him trying to light one of the cargo ships holding us up.”

“You must’ve been terrified. You could’ve burned alive, unable to leave.”

“I was terrified, but only because Nightglow was with me. The enemy has no respect for innocents. To keep her safe, I had to send her home for the duration of the war. We used the information the captive gave us during questioning to stop a second attack, one on Anna’s brewery.”

“Why there?”

“It has a large grain stockpile, lots of combustible materials, and Anna.”

“Bastards.” She paced with him. “Anything you want me to tell Corrie next time I see her?”

He stopped. “Nothing yet. My family has taken Nightglow in and has been watching over her.”

“I met them. Corrie had me check up on her. Food’s tight, but they fixed me a dish, too. They’re good people.”

“We don’t know when the allies are arriving. Every boat we can muster is waiting for the signal to sail out for the attack. All my brothers volunteered.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, regretting her earlier sarcasm. “How many ships are coming to help?”

“The exact number is secret. I only know about my mission. I do know that the fight is going to be very close.”

“Why don’t we call the warship back from Bablios?”

He shook his head. “Logistics. We have no good way to communicate. If they arrived early, they’d be outnumbered and ruin the trap. Plus we’d have to share too much ahead of time and the enemy might hear. Pagaose says everything depends on surprise.”

“What’s your mission?” she asked.

He swallowed. “I have to hold the middle until the allies smoke out Sandarac. We think he’s on the
Rebirth
. If it looks like we’re going to lose, or Corrie signals me, my men and I have orders to sail the
Elegance
over to his ship and kill him.”

“Not a pleasant scenario.”

“Why are you so edgy? You’ve earned your stripes.”

The witch removed her glasses and tried to clean them. Ever since she dropped them near the dueling platform, the scratches on the lenses bothered her. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “When we teach the mana vortex, we tell people never to activate one inside the protective umbrella or we might dispel it. The theorists aren’t sure what will happen; this is all too new. If I suck in a fireball, the disruption may nullify Pagaose’s spell.”

The man with the magic sword sighed. “You’re not here for a fireball.”

“Why then? Come on, you know I can keep a secret.”

“If they activate the Roseate Lens, it might break the shield.”

“How?”

“I just swing a sword. Pagaose and Vinspar say the lens was designed by Kragen’s wizards to penetrate the wall Archanos put around the Door of the Unseen Temple. Sir Tashi told him it would’ve worked; Kiateros helped build it.”

“Ouch.”

“If they fire at me, we’ll use your ward and the sword to absorb the attack.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“I’ll be a glowing cinder. I asked for you to be here because I can trust you to carry the blade back to Pagaose if I fail.”

“Sure,” Komiko said unenthusiastically. “I might reach him three steps ahead of the northern hordes.”

“If we have a change in plans, Corrie can also reach you.”

“I guess.”

“And if I died tonight, I wanted to be with a friend and the best dueling second in the islands.”

That made the witch smile. “Thanks. If you go up against Urgot or Sandarac, I’d be proud to stand behind you.”

“For empire and glory,” he said. “Now take a nap. We need you in contact with Corrie as soon as it gets dark.”

That’s when the pink beam of energy lanced out of the closest enemy warship and stuck the hillside below the military academy. The beam was too low to hit any soldiers, but the rock underneath the mess hall melted and crumbled inward. The avalanche destroyed the crowded mess hall and several homes as it rumbled down the hill.

“Crap,” Komiko said. “I guess Sandarac had his own surprise.”

The catapults on each side of the harbor launched flaming rocks at the ship carrying the Roseate Lens. One rock came within fifty paces and slightly to the left. “Come on,” begged Niftkin. “Range fast.”

The second rock flew straight toward the mark but dropped ten feet short. The pink beam fired again, blowing the threatening catapult to tinder. Komiko cursed. “Crap! The enemy doesn’t have to compute the arc. They’re going to win. How many beats was it between shots?”