City of Light (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy)

by Wight, Will

  Its body was the size of a horse, its tentacles at least eight feet long. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the thing spoke.

  “Surrender and you will find mercy,” the creature hummed, in a voice like a nest of hornets. “Resist and—”

  Indirial’s blade split it down the middle, and it collapsed into piles of shining blue goo.

  Leah turned back to Alin. He was gone from his spot in the street, so she didn’t waste time looking for him. She twisted her left wrist, until the crystal she always wore there caught the light.

  Then she called Lirial.

  A pair of white crystal spheres spun out of her Lirial sanctum and into this world, one flying up the street and one down.

  Almost immediately, she heard a chime in her mind as one of the spheres spotted Alin. A silver-white light flared in her vision, invisible to anyone else, pointing at a spot hidden in a nearby alley.

  Leah didn’t wait until she got a clear shot. She didn’t stop to think about the collateral damage. She had a chance, and she took it.

  She threw the Lightning Spear.

  As always, the Spear blasted from her hands with force dozens of times greater than her merely human throw. It streaked toward Alin in a blur of steel, ruby, gleaming gold, and black wood.

  She didn’t get to see it land, though, because she all but collapsed in pain. It felt like a thousand wasps stinging every inch of her skin, while at the same time a thousand hammers smashed each of her bones to splinters.

  Leah had to cling to the stone wall to stop from falling over, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from screaming.

  The Lightning Spear was not the most pleasant weapon in her arsenal.

  There was a sound like a building collapsing, and Leah snapped her head up, worried that she actually had broken a building in which people lived. But the Spear hadn’t needed to crash through a wall.

  It had flipped into midair, after rebounding off Alin’s shield of green light. Alin stood at the mouth of the alley, both hands out toward the spear as if he were trying to push it away with the force of his mind. A wall of green plates stood between him and the spear, and his face was twisted as if in pain.

  With a thought, Leah summoned the Spear back. It flipped around in midair and started to hurtle toward her outstretched hand.

  Upon further inspection, it looked as though there was a second layer of green light in the air around Alin, but this one had a hole in it big enough to drive a wagon through. It seemed that the Lightning Spear had been enough to punch through his green shield, but not enough to penetrate two layers.

  The warm wooden haft of the Spear smacked into her palm, and she levered herself back to her feet.

  Now that she knew she could break his defense, she would need to keep attacking until she drew blood.

  Speaking of blood, something purple and sticky splattered the stairs in front of her, and she looked up in alarm to see a bird-man in the traditional wooden armor of Avernus shredding a fuzzy, purple Elysian creature with its twin blades.

  The Gendo bird-man, which Feiora must have summoned from Avernus, turned its beak toward Leah. It dismissed her after a second, running off on taloned feet with leaps and bounds that ate up five paces at a time.

  Indirial grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back into the building. In the same motion, he turned around and put his back to the street.

  A blast of gold almost blinded her, shattering against Indirial’s back. The force from the gold light pushed the debris on the stairs back in an invisible ring, knocked one of the doors off its hinges, and set the other to smoldering.

  Indirial offered her a smile. “Feiora can open you a Gate,” he said.

  “How are you still alive?” she asked, almost involuntarily.

  He turned his back to her, holding his blade out toward Alin. He wore a plate of translucent green light, like part of a suit of armor that only existed in her imagination. “I like to come prepared,” he said. As she watched, the spectral plate on his back flickered and went out.

  Valinhall, she thought. Why am I ever surprised when they have a new weapon? I should get him to make me a list.

  Feiora put a hand on her arm. Behind her, a two-foot-tall bearded man in a tall red hat burst through one of the blue windows, brandishing a pickaxe and screaming. Eugan shrieked at the gnome, flapping his wings to hover over the red creature’s hat.

  The Elysian choked and fell over, apparently victim to one of Avernus’ psychic attacks.

  The Overlord drew Leah back to the other end of the room, never checking to see if Eugan was safe. “It will take me a second to open an Avernus Gate. Stay here.”

  “Not yet,” Leah said.

  Feiora looked at her as though considering whether to knock her out and drag her into a Territory on general principle.

  Leah flipped her left hand at an encroaching gold-armored dog, which had bounded through another broken window. A spike of crystal shot out from the tiles beneath it, enveloping the dog and sealing it in midair.

  “You need me here,” Leah said.

  After a second, Feiora nodded, and then she turned back to the fight. She had gotten a spear from somewhere, although Leah would have sworn that she didn’t have one before the fight began, and she began using it to poke a slithering, boneless blue cat away from Indirial, who had managed to swat a ball of gold light out of the air with the flat of his blade.

  Just then, Leah realized what was missing.

  “Where’s Ilana?” she shouted.

  No one answered.

  ***

  Alin's head wouldn't stop screaming.

  Leah's Ragnarus spear had blasted straight through an entire wall of Green Light, and he had barely been able to throw up a second shield in time, before the weapon destroyed his head as easily as it cracked the Green. The feedback from a broken Green shield was one of the few things that still pained him; Rhalia had once explained that the wall was constantly linked to him, which was why it felt like someone flogging his skull with burning whips every time a shield broke.

  Currently, he was hurling blasts of Gold Light blindly at the Naraka waystation, trying to buy time until the burning in his head died down.

  The noble citizens of Elysia were doing a wonderful job of earning time for him. Three of the Blue District jellies had been destroyed, and a handful of the gnomes were disabled, though their brothers kept fighting. Gold soldiers marched in formation against the side of the waystation, trying to knock their way into the walls, even as Violet and Silver creatures hopped or flew into the broken windows.

  The Rose Light filled with compassion and horror at the number of living beings who were losing their lives crawling into that waystation, but Alin drowned out that voice with Gold. This was a battle, and he intended to win.

  The Elysians swarmed the building, tearing chunks of stone out of the pillars to carve new entrances, slithering through cracks, hopping over shattered glass and into the windows. In fact, the most difficult point of entry might have been the gaping open hole where the doors used to be.

  A Valinhall Traveler stood there, in the empty doorway, deflecting everything that Alin could throw at him and still managing to kill any summoned beings that got too close. At first, Alin had thought it was Simon, but when his vision cleared a little bit he realized that was ridiculous. This man, Alin had met only once: he’d pulled Alin away from Leah, just as Alin's rage had gotten the better of him.

  This Traveler was older and taller than Simon, with lines of gray at the edges of his hair. He had the dark complexion of a villager, and he wore his shirtsleeves pushed up—even in this cold—to expose the black chains that wrapped up his forearms. He wore his cloak with the hood up, and when he moved, Alin could only see him for an instant. All he could see clearly was the flashing sword in his hands, which looked as though it had been notched and cracked by years of abuse.

  The man grinned, bright and cheery, as he slapped away a bolt of Gold Light and sli
ced an approaching slitherback—one of the blue-skinned lizard-cats—into three equal chunks. Blue blood oozed down the stairs, mixing with red, purple, and yellow in a macabre rainbow.

  Your people are dying, the Rose Light cried.

  Put an end to this, the Gold advised. The quicker the battle ends, the fewer lives lost on both sides.

  That sounded like good sense to Alin, so he summoned his golden blade.

  It formed in his hand, an artifact created of Gold Light. Its blade was straight, its crossguard wide enough to protect him, its hilt long enough to hold in both hands if necessary. It wouldn’t get rid of his reach disadvantage against a Valinhall blade, but Alin had other powers for that.

  Red Light coiled around his legs, and he launched himself into the fight.

  The raven's scream crashed into his mind, telling him to give up, to run away, to find a place to hide, and a thousand other conflicting instructions meant to distract him. He ignored that one; his bond with the Silver Light protected him. Somewhere, he could hear the Silver laughing at the pathetic attack.

  A sheet of Violet Light fell like a luminescent blanket over the enemy Valinhall Traveler, covering him and hopefully providing an instant's distraction while Alin landed. It worked; the enemy dodged out from under the Violet with blinding speed, allowing Alin to end his jump by slamming into the stairs, legs braced and slightly bent under him. The lines of Red Light in his lower body absorbed most of the impact, flaring briefly brighter.

  Then Alin realized a problem. He couldn't see the Valinhall Traveler. Where was he? Alin must be looking straight at him, given the direction he'd dodged, but there was nothing there. Nothing but a blurry shadow that Alin was, for some reason, having trouble looking at...

  A burning line scratched his left side as the Traveler's curved Valinhall blade slashed straight through Alin's armor and scored a hit on his side.

  Alin was calling Rose Light at the first hint of pain, and his wound flared pink as it healed. He swung his golden sword from left to right, hoping to take the other Traveler's head off.

  The ball of smoke and shadow rolled to the right—he knew it must be the Traveler, but he still couldn't bring himself to focus directly on it, as though it slid away from his eyes. Silver flashed, and the sword was coming up from the ground, angled at Alin’s neck. He put a single six-sided plate of Green Light in the way, and the tip of the blade slid off the shield like fingernails off a glass window. Alin retaliated by calling Blue Light out of the ground. It sprouted in tendrils, grasping for the Traveler.

  But Alin had misjudged the other man's position badly, and he felt a stabbing pain in his back as once again the Valinhall Traveler practically ignored his armor. Why couldn't he look directly at the other man? What was he doing that would prevent Alin from so much as looking at him?

  Alin knew he should have been beyond such emotions, but fury and frustration raged in him.

  Stop holding yourself back, the Gold Light advised. You're not a Traveler anymore. Don't fight like one.

  The Violet, Silver, and Red Lights agreed, so Alin gave himself over to the Incarnation of Elysia. He was thinking like a human, because that was all he had ever known.

  But he was capable of so much more than that now.

  Alin let his blade dissipate into motes of yellow, and threw his gold-armored hands out to either side.

  Then he really called Blue Light.

  The staircase of the Naraka waystation, the tiled floor inside, even the cobblestones behind him began to glow with a soft azure light. All of the Elysian creatures except those from the Blue District scrambled away: gnomes scampered over debris, Gold soldiers backed away from the waystation in proper military order, Silver constructs flitted out the windows.

  They knew what was coming.

  The Valinhall Traveler scored another hit on Alin's back, through the previous hole in his armor, but he had Rose Light ready. The wound closed almost instantly.

  And the Blue Light rose to his call.

  Tendrils and tentacles of luminous blue, each as thick around as a tree trunk, erupted from the ground. Many of them rose eight or ten feet in the air, and they glowed so brightly that everything was tinged in sapphire.

  There was no need for Alin to see the Valinhall Traveler, so long as he didn't give the man anywhere to run.

  He heard a few shouts from inside the building, and a muffled thud from what might have been a body collapsing. That would be better for them, in the long run. The Blue Light wouldn't kill them—he would extinguish it before it went that far—but it would keep them unconscious. After they woke up, he would be in control of Enosh again, and then he could teach them the truth.

  The shadow of the Valinhall Traveler dodged in the forest of blue, landing two or three more cuts on Alin's arm, his neck, even alarmingly close to his eye.

  Alin didn't bother dodging, or putting up a shield of Green. He kept pouring all of his will into Blue.

  When the Valinhall Traveler fell to his knees, whatever power had kept him hidden fell away, revealing a cloaked man with a cracked sword in one hand. No longer smiling, he looked up at Alin, showing exhaustion in his eyes. He lunged weakly, and Alin let the sword land.

  The tip of the Valinhall blade scratched Alin's armor. The strike had no strength behind it, but it used the last of the Traveler's vigor. He pitched over, sprawling halfway down the stairs with his chin resting on the street.

  We should let him live, the Blue Light said. Alin was so deep in the Blue that the thought was a matter of course; any other alternative was unthinkable. Why would he not let the man live? Mercy was the hallmark of true strength, and only with mercy would Alin be able to show this man the error of his ways.

  He's not the only enemy, though, the Gold Light pointed out.

  It would be better if you could get Simon and Leah on your side, the Orange said.

  Speaking of Simon, said the Silver, aren't you forgetting something?

  Alin had actually taken another step inside before it occurred to him what the Silver Light had already started to realize. He whirled around, staring into the sky. The tendrils of Blue Light all bent over him, protecting him from the threat.

  Then he saw Simon falling from the sky like a silver-and-black lightning bolt, heading straight for Alin.

  We should catch him, the Orange Light suggested. He might die, from that height.

  The Silver Light laughed, and Alin was inclined to agree. He filled his palms with Gold.

  Protect yourself, the Green Light suggested. Just in case.

  Alin spread a shield of Green over his head.

  The Violet Light, always honest, started to panic. Are you sure that will be enough?

  Reaching into the Green, Alin put another shield over that layer. And then another, to be safe.

  Behind three shields of Green Light, his palms filled with destructive Gold, and surrounded by a forest of power-draining Blue tentacles, Alin felt as prepared as he ever could be to receive an attack.

  You can handle this, the Gold said.

  Then Simon struck.

  He slammed into the first shield sword-first, with the impact of a falling catapult stone. The wall completely failed to hold, shattering like glass. It didn't even seem to slow him down; he was crashing through the second layer almost as soon as Alin registered the sight of him.

  The pain of two Green shields breaking at the same time was enough to make Alin wonder if he would burn up from the inside out, but he channeled Red determination and put all his strength into the third layer. He could stop Simon here, bind him with Blue, and blast his defenses away with Gold...

  Before he completely slammed into the third shield of Green Light, Simon slashed his blade across the emerald plates. How was it possible to move so fast?

  The third shield of Green Light shattered, and Simon was still falling right on top of Alin. His view was filled by that horrible mask, silver and black and utterly without pity. Simon’s blade flashed again.

&nbs
p; Alin screamed in the pain of his broken shields, releasing the Gold Light in his hands.

  It splattered inches from Simon's eyes, stopped by a spectral green helmet. The impact illuminated a full suit of ghostly armor. Had he been wearing that the entire time, invisible?

  The Silver Light reminded him that he had seen such things before: when he fought the white-haired Valinhall Traveler back in Bel Calem. That armor could shrug off practically anything that Alin could call.

  Well, good-bye, the Violet Light said. We asked for a fair fight, and we got one.

  Simon's blade hit Alin at the collar, and it sliced its way down.

  The blazing pain in Alin's body hardly compared to the burning in his mind from the shattered Green, but the fact that he felt it at all meant that he must be in real trouble. Too fast for Alin to see, Simon's blade passed through his upper-right breastplate, across his stomach, and cut across his left thigh. It sliced through his armor like it wasn't even there, spraying blood across the steps.

  His blood shone.

  It was still red, but it glowed with its own inner light, so that it looked like luminous crimson paint splattered on the stone in front of the waystation.

  That's not right, he thought, absently. Blood isn't supposed to be like that.

  You're not the same as you were anymore, the Silver reminded him.

  Alin fell over on his back, staring up at the sky. The Blue Light started to dissolve, its essence returning to Elysia.

  It’s over, then, he thought. As last thoughts went, it wasn’t much. He had always imagined himself dying with words of wisdom on his lips, or his true love’s face in his mind’s eye. But when he thought about dying now, he felt…nothing much at all.

  The Gold Light sent him a feeling that didn't quite translate into words. It felt like a bleak secret, a dark joke, a grim smile.

  Well, the Gold said, I wouldn’t exactly say ‘over.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  INVASION

  Lycus Agnos could tell: his sister wasn't paying attention.