The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1)

by Randy Ellefson

  Perfect, thought Eric, wondering if now was a good time to confess. Being sent back probably required Sonneri’s cooperation, so they had to stay on his good side.

  “Since this began,” the Prime Minister continued, “tensions are high and the queen hasn’t quite been herself. I must beseech you to resolve matters quickly.” He looked expectantly at Ryan. On seeing this, Eric realized the big guy was the apparent leader of these champions. He wasn’t known for decisiveness.

  Matt asked, “Is there an historical record of what we did here before? It could refresh our memory.” Eric looked at him in approval, thinking it was a fantastic idea.

  “Yes,” answered Sonneri, looking apologetic, “though I must confess we made a copy of the scroll you provided before locking away the original, which was regrettably stolen years ago so that its secrets are likely known. I will have the copy delivered to your suite along with a scroll describing our gods and religions for Eriana to re-familiarize herself with, as is customary, of course.”

  Anna exchanged a look with Eric, who knew what she was thinking – there was no master plan, destiny, afterlife, ghosts, or any of that other baloney. He’d let her vent to him later. Now was not the time and she seemed to know it. Sonneri’s words also suggested that Eriana, and now Anna, had to learn the gods of each world she visited and commune with one, getting familiar, before being able to have one heal through her. Being able to ask someone about such concerns would’ve been nice, but everyone thought they were the real Ellorian Champions, who would know such things.

  As they exited the War Room, a court page advised them that Queen Lorella had arranged for a castle tour. It could have been an innocent excursion were it not for the noblemen and women who were let loose upon them. They spent an hour fending off questions about past exploits, where they’d been, what it was like to be so revered, what they thought had happened to let the dragons loose upon Honyn again, and more importantly, what they were going to do about it. After Ryan tried to be helpful and answer these questions despite being clueless, Eric took over to deflect the inquiries, claiming they needed to keep certain things to themselves. People kept asking anyway, and it was with some relief that the tour finally ended.

  Along the way they’d seen much of Castle Olliana, a living home full of royalty, dignitaries, pages, scribes, and people on court business, including knights and wizards who asked questions they deflected. White towers swirled gracefully into the sky, spiraling up to blue domes topped with silver points. The four large, corner towers served the royalty, the knights and their squires, priests and clerics, and finally the kingdom’s arch wizard and followers. But they saw signs of the dragon rampage in that some buildings were destroyed and others seemingly permanently burned by dragon fire. Their suite lay in the royal wing a few halls away from the queen’s, a prestigious location. A steward advised them of various housekeeping matters before leaving and closing the doors, which Eric crept up to, listening to the footsteps fading away.

  “Okay,” he said at last, turning back, “we’re alone.”

  Chapter 4 – Fresh Wounds

  Anna had seldom if ever seen Eric look serious, as he was so often quick to joke, but she knew of his troubled past and that there had to be more to him than one-liners and sarcasm. His demeanor since they’d disappeared from Stonehenge had made more of an impression than Ryan’s casualness, though that had since vanished. The strain of pretending to be fine over the past hour, with all those people asking questions and looking to them for help, while a growing dread had been filling her had made her relieved to be alone with her friends. But she excused herself, looking for a bathroom and heading through an adjacent doorway, where she found only four bedrooms, none with toilets or a sink. Each had a tub, washbowl, and chamber pot, to her dismay. With a frown, she closed an ornate door behind her.

  As she walked, she caught her reflection in a mirror and stopped a moment. While she’d noticed elements of her outfit, the full picture only now became apparent. Golden patterns and symbols she didn’t recognize covered the bottom edge, cuffs, neck, and hood of her white robe. Her long blonde hair was now in a French braid, a golden pin through it. She wasn’t wearing much else except a few rings, a bracelet, and an amulet that depicted one figure kneeling beside another that was rising from a supine position. No sign of her pendant. Seldom one for much makeup, she noted that all of what she’d been wearing on Earth was gone.

  She had already sensed she wasn’t wearing much beneath the robe, including a bra. The undergarments proved to be just a thin, long shift, skirt, and white leather boots. What had happened to her Earth clothes? The thought made a rush of questions and anxiety seize her and she desperately wanted to talk to the boys, so she rinsed her hands in a bowl, not finding soap, and headed back. She returned to where she’d left them, finding them talking quietly together. They turned as one and she saw only serious expressions.

  Letting out a sigh, she sat on a couch that looked like the expensive furniture at the LaRue estate, albeit in medieval style. Out the window behind her waited a balcony that she wanted to check. It might be nice to view their setting without onlookers asking questions she had to dodge.

  She asked, “What did I miss?”

  Eric pursed his lips. “Well, we’ve agreed we’re not dreaming or having a shared delusion of some kind.”

  Ryan added, “At first, I thought it was and didn’t take it at all serious. I wish I had. Now I promised that queen we’d do something.”

  “Yeah,” said Matt. “I kind of wished you hadn’t.”

  “How was I supposed to know?”

  Matt joined Anna on the couch and pulled what looked like a spell book from a bag he’d arrived with. As he flipped through it, she thought that any artist could have drawn the fantastic pictures, but the pages had the look of frequent traffic. There were spills and stains, bent corners, and torn pages. Someone appeared to have used this thing. Extensively.

  Anna remarked, “Something tells me this isn’t even Earth.”

  Eric pulled out the short sword he’d arrived with and examined it while saying, “This…wizard, Sonneri, can probably tell us how this summoning thing works, to send us back, though I doubt we’ll understand it. It appears to be magic.”

  “Or science that they think is magic,” observed Matt, not sounding like he believed it.

  “If it’s just science,” Ryan began, pulling out his own sword, “there’d be more of it, right?”

  Anna nodded. “Right. I saw no electricity, air conditioning, even plumbing. No planes or cars. Out the windows I only heard wagons and horses’ hooves on stone, and I saw people buying things with gold, silver, and bronze coins, not credit cards or even paper money. There’s certainly no internet, TV, or smart phones. If we’re still on Earth, we’ve gone back in time, which is just as implausible.”

  At her own mention of smart phones, she cast a look at Ryan, but he hadn’t reacted. They didn’t need him realizing he couldn’t check on Daniel right now. Seeing his scrutiny of the sword, she looked and bluish-silver steel, with elegant, golden script flowing down the blade. Similar script curled around the shaft of Matt’s staff and graced the pages of the book he continued flipping through.

  Eric interrupted her thoughts. “This sword is perfectly balanced.”

  “This one, too,” said Ryan. “Really light, too. It’s surprising. It doesn’t seem like any metal I’ve ever seen.”

  “I hope you don’t need them,” Anna remarked.

  “Hard to argue with that,” admitted Eric, putting it away and feeling around his outfit for something, which she realized was throwing knives when he pulled several out, testing their balance in his hands. “Whatever happened at Stonehenge could’ve been technology we just don’t know about. You know, something like motion sensing lights could seem like magic to the ignorant. Even Sonneri appearing to light his pipe by snapping his fingers could just be technology that reacts to sound.”

  Anna knew they might have inde
ed traveled by science regardless of what anyone on Honyn thought, and maybe it was better for people here to think that whatever the truth might be. After all, performing magic took skill, talent, knowledge and discipline, which were all reasons Matt was no Soliander. But science required none of these things. Once someone smart enough to build a device had done so, anyone could use it. People with automatic guns didn’t need skill to kill a highly trained Samurai. It was how the weak could defeat the strong and upset what some considered the natural order of things. Then again, magic items allowed unskilled people to cast spells, too, but within limits. If Soliander’s staff, which they apparently had, possessed some power to facilitate this Dragon Gate closing, maybe they stood a chance of doing that, but it was an unknown and far too risky.

  “So what do we do?” Anna asked. “We can’t really do this quest.”

  Eric nodded. “If this is for real, and we just decided it is, then there’s a real dragon out there, too, and it sounds like she wouldn’t hesitate to kill us for trying to screw up her plans.”

  Ryan said, “True, but this world is in serious trouble, and they think they can’t protect themselves and we can, so we’d be turning our backs on them.”

  “Not really, because we’re not who they want,” Matt observed, “and they don’t even know that. They’ve got to send us back and try to summon these four people again. Maybe it will work this time.”

  Anna nodded, thinking she’d almost like to stick around and watch the result. “Yeah, it’s the only responsible thing to do.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Ryan agreed. “So when do we tell them?”

  “Before this banquet tonight,” suggested Anna, feeling guilty. “We’ve got to do it before everyone gets too excited.”

  “I think it’s a little late for that,” Eric remarked ruefully, rising. He cocked his head and Anna had the impression he’d heard something from another room. That impression grew when he started moving in that direction.

  “Sonneri’s probably the one to send us back,” Matt observed, “so we should approach him in private, I think.”

  “Good idea,” said Anna. “Maybe he can even help us figure out how we got substituted for these people when we tell him.”

  While Ryan carefully swung his sword, Anna’s eyes followed Eric as he reached the doorway of a bedroom. He suddenly leaned back sharply and she thought something had narrowly missed hitting his face. Then his arm rose swiftly, meeting and blocking the arm of someone swinging a dagger at him from inside the bedroom.

  “Eric!” Anna yelled in panic, rising.

  The martial artist retreated and a figure in black followed, lunging from the doorway. Eric grabbed the man’s forearms and fell back, pulling the intruder onto his upraised foot and throwing him headfirst behind him. A table shattered under the assassin as Eric rose to go after him, with a quick glance into the bedroom.

  “Ryan! Another guy coming in through the window!”

  The big man stepped into the doorway, a knife meant for Eric’s back bouncing off his golden armor. Startled, he backed away and yelped, “What do I do?”

  Rushing the first guy, Eric replied, “Stick him with the sword!” With that he kicked the first assassin in the face and the intruder flew backwards, dropping another dagger.

  Anna backed away from the fight, caught between wanting to help and running. Matt had risen and come to stand near her. Together they moved behind the couch toward the balcony.

  Also wearing black, Ryan’s foe drew a sword, prompting the knight to raise his own without the confidence Anna had seen him use at RenFest. Those were staged combats where he knew every last move his opponent would make beforehand, having practiced it together for hours. How would he fare when someone meant to kill him? The intruder’s blade sliced at him much faster than Anna expected and he barely blocked it, backing away. “There’s another one coming in!” he called.

  “Oh my God,” said Anna.

  Ryan’s attacker glanced behind before resuming almost recklessly, forcing Ryan back. He leapt away from the knight and turned just as the third man entered. This one wore brown and green leathers and hardly spared Ryan a glance as he leapt after Ryan’s attacker. Their blades met with a loud ring.

  “Is he helping us?” Matt asked.

  “Think so!” Anna answered in relief. Her eyes lingered on realizing this man had slanted eyes, a delicate heart-shaped face, and otherworldly gracefulness. She could’ve sworn a pointed ear sometimes peeked out from under the blond hair. The word “elf” popped into her head.

  Ryan exchanged a startled look with them before moving around the room to guard them. “Stay behind me.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” remarked Anna, clinging to Matt. She pulled her eyes off the apparent elf to Eric, whom she’d never seen fight for real. A round of flying fists happened so fast that she couldn’t follow it, but then the assassin drew a sword and so did Eric. Did he know how to use it? Eric blocked a swing, the blow jarring the blade from his hand to the floor. Anna gasped, but he kicked the man’s wrist and that sword fell, too. His attacker punched him in the jaw with the other hand, knocking him back, then threw a knife that struck his chest, bouncing off the studded leather.

  “Son of a bitch!” Eric looked a little disbelieving, then angry. He grabbed his own throwing knife but hesitated to throw it. His attacker drew another, raising one arm, and Eric flicked his wrist. The knife stuck in the man’s stomach. Another followed into his upraised arm. Then Eric leapt forward and up, spinning in the air, his foot slamming into the man’s face and hurling him backward into the wall before ricocheting him forward to the floor face first, where he lay unmoving.

  Anna just stared at the aftermath until Eric turned to the other fight unfolding. The second assassin’s back was to them, which apparently gave Ryan an idea for the way he quietly approached them, raising his sword high. He brought the pommel crashing down on the assassin’s head. The blow thrust the man forward and right onto the elf’s sword, which impaled him through the chest. The assassin fell back, almost striking Ryan, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.

  “Oh my God,” the knight said. “That’s not what I wanted!” His eyes danced about the room, from the dead man’s eyes, to the blood pooling on the floor, to the pity in the eyes of those looking at him, and finally to the sword that had done this. He dropped it with a clatter and clamped his eyes shut, one hand over them.

  Anna saw crimson spreading out beneath the man Eric had fought. Despite being afraid to go near, the medical student in her took over and she went to check his pulse, not finding one. Eric helped turn the man over. He’d fallen on the knife in his abdomen. He was dead. Anna exchanged a stunned look with Eric before they rose. Matt had gone pale, holding onto the couch to steady himself. The elf knelt to wipe his sword on the other victim’s clothes and an awkward silence filled the room, broken only by Ryan’s distressed breathing.

  “Thank you,” Anna started, struck by his piercing green eyes, delicate nose, and graceful, efficient movements suggestive of strength beyond his lithe, tall frame. Long blond hair fell behind his pointed ears, some of it braided.

  “Who are you?” Eric asked, another knife ready. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I observed them climbing the walls and followed,” the man replied in soft, musical voice. “Their intentions were clearly ill.”

  Suspiciously, Eric asked, “How’d you come to see them?”

  Anna thought he should be more polite, given that the elf had saved their lives, but she wanted to know, too. Was he spying on them? Paranoia seemed appropriate.

  “My suite is across the courtyard from yours,” the man answered, gesturing out the balcony.

  Anna looked and saw a dimly lit window with a terrace, from which hung a long tapestry that had partially torn away during the man’s descent on it. She came forward. “You were in the courtroom before,” she observed, remembering the man with the tree-embossed cloak.

  “Yes
.”

  “I’m...” she hesitated, trying to remember her supposed name, “I’m Eriana.”

  He looked her in the eye and frowned. “No, you are not.”

  She hesitated, unsure what to say.

  “I appear to be the only one not fooled by your charade,” the man continued, looking from one to another, “presumably on account of the length of time those you impersonate have been absent.”

  They exchanged a nervous look.

  “Why does that matter?” Matt asked faintly. If he didn’t look at the bodies or all that blood, maybe he wouldn’t pass out.

  “Four years is a long time to humans and your memories fade.”

  “So...” Eric started, “four years is not a long time to you?”

  “Correct.”

  “Because... you’re an elf?”

  “Of course.”

  Ryan pulled his hand down and opened his eyes. “An elf?” He scrutinized the man and finally said. “Are these supposed to be real, too?”

  “Do you think I’m an illusion of some sort?”

  “No,” replied Ryan quietly, “I just don’t think you’re for real.”

  “I am of the flesh.”

  Eric interrupted. “We can discuss this later. The important thing is these men just attacked us, and everyone thinks we’re Andier, Eriana, Korrin, and Soliander, but you don’t. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”

  The elf cocked an eyebrow. “I was hoping you would tell me. I am Lorian of the House of Arundell in the elven city of Noria, in the Great Honyn Forest. I have known the champions on several occasions and know you are not them. However, it may be best to continue your charade with others until we can speak further.”

  Eric nodded, suggesting, “We need to get some guards in here in case there are more of these guys.” He looked at the bodies in consternation and Anna knew he had to be upset about having killed someone, maybe less so than Ryan, but still. Any curiosity about this champion stuff had abruptly ended.