by Wight, Will
There was one thing, though, that Alin himself wanted. He pointed to Naraka.
“Step away from her,” he said. “She deserves justice.”
None of the Valinhall Travelers listened. Simon looked up at him with evident surprise. “And you don’t think she got it?”
When Alin didn’t budge, Simon finally ordered the other two back. That was interesting: Alin would have expected the old man was in charge, but he and the girl both stepped back when Simon said so.
Grandmaster Naraka…didn’t look like much anymore.
She was little more than a man-sized pile of ash, with bones and pebbly bits of lizard skin sticking up at odd angles. Without the shattered spectacles lying in front of her, Alin would have never known who these remnants had been.
His impotent fury rose up again. How dare they take her from him? He had spent six months searching for her, and now Simon killed her before he got a chance? Simon had circumvented justice! He deserved to be punished!
That’s not justice, the Blue Light pointed out.
All you wanted was vengeance, the Silver Light said.
It was true, and the Violet Light confirmed it. What he wanted to do was challenge Simon to another fight out of sheer frustration, defeat him, and use that to proclaim his superiority. But the right thing to do was let it all go and accept the help.
He raised his voice to include Leah as well. “You are welcome here,” he said. “We can always use more allies.” Leah, he noticed, had replaced her left eye with a glowing red substitute. He wondered if that should bother him more, but his own eyes were anything but human.
With a deep breath, he drew on the Green Light and banished all thoughts of vengeance. They were beneath him, now.
“Maybe you can learn after all,” Rhalia said thoughtfully.
***
“I don’t know what he’s waiting for,” Leah said. “But we need to take advantage of this time and come up with a plan.”
That’s why Simon had suggested meeting in Valinhall: whatever time they had would be doubled, here.
Alin’s eyes flashed silver. “He’s bringing his forces through various Territories, so they won’t all reach at the same time. He will be waiting until his side is in position, both in this world and in each Territory. We should have at least an hour.”
That sounded reasonable. He spoke with such confidence that Simon had to believe him, even though for all Simon knew, Alin could have been making it all up.
For the first time since Myria, Simon stood in a room with Alin and Leah. They each stood around a table in the House of Blades: the only neutral location where they could be sure they wouldn’t be observed.
In each of them, the changes couldn’t have been more apparent.
Alin, of course, was no longer human. He was clad head-to-toe in gleaming golden armor, and his hair matched. His skin was a shade paler than it had ever been, and his eyes shimmered with slices of every color in the rainbow. More than that, he carried himself differently. His face was all but expressionless, and he had the tendency to stare at something for long minutes without blinking. He had always laughed and told stories for anyone who would listen, radiating warmth and confidence like a bonfire. Now the fire was cold and distant, like a star.
In some ways, the changes in Leah were more dramatic. She had taken command of any situation, even before Simon had known who she was, but now she wore a long, expensive dress of pure red, with a silver circlet on her head. The pale crystal on a chain around her wrist seemed like a lady’s ornament, now, rather than simple jewelry worn by a villager. And she only had one blue eye left. Her red eye shone bright, seeming to stare right through him. The raven on her left shoulder let out a caw, and then began preening its wing. The whole of Leah, with the raven and the eye and the crown, left her looking like the powerful Queen out of some Territory, not the ordinary ruler of an earthly kingdom.
And then there was Simon.
The cloak makes you look like a bad actor in some cheap play, Caela commented. You don’t even have the sword right now, but if you did, it’s way too long to take seriously. You look like a child playing with your father’s weapon. The mask looks like it was hammered by an amateur with a pile of scrap metal, which is almost the truth, and—lest we forget—you’re carrying around a doll.
I always did feel ridiculous carrying you around, Simon admitted.
What? No, I make you look much better. ‘I don’t know who that idiot is, running around in that cloak like he thinks he’s an assassin, but where did he get that beautifully crafted doll?’ That’s what people are going to say about you.
Simon considered and discarded half a dozen possible responses before realizing that, no matter what he said, Caela would win in the end. I’m…sure you’re right, Caela, he sent at last. That’s exactly what they’ll say.
“We need to lure them over the wall,” Alin was saying, when Simon turned his attention back to the discussion. “Fight them on our terms.”
“Can we fight them, even on our terms?” Leah asked. “We only have, at most, three Valinhall Travelers.”
Alin frowned. “Of course we can. I am Elysia, and I will destroy them all.”
Leah raised one eyebrow. “Honestly, Alin?”
After a moment, Alin’s irises flared violet. “Honestly, no. I can account for two Incarnations, as long as one of them isn’t Ragnarus. The King is too dangerous on his own.”
It was disturbing, listening to Alin change his mind so fast. It was almost like they were having a conversation with more than one person in the same body.
“Why didn’t you bring more Travelers?” Alin continued. “You’re the Queen, surely you could have ordered a few along with you.”
Leah toyed with the bracelet on her left wrist. “I could have brought some, but there are many who would say I stopped being the Queen the moment my father revealed that he was alive. No matter what state he’s in, he’s still the King. Anyone I brought would be just as likely to switch sides at any moment. The real threats are the Incarnations anyway; once we destroy them, I can command the remaining Damascan Travelers to return home.”
Simon studied the map on the table, which had been switched from a map of Damasca as a whole to one specifically showing the city of Enosh. The Nye knew what they needed, and prepared accordingly. Judging from the layout of the city, Simon realized that he knew precisely nothing about predicting a battle based on the layout of a city. He could have used Indirial’s instruction, but the Incarnation had vanished somewhere in the House, and Simon wasn’t sure he wanted to know where. If he chased blindly after Indirial, he might find the Overlord consumed by his Incarnation powers, trying to murder Simon in the hallway.
Then again, this was an emergency.
“Eldest,” Simon said, and instantly the Nye in the dark gray cloak was standing by the table. Leah took a step back, and Alin’s palm filled with gold light, but the Eldest bowed.
“Where’s Indirial?” he asked.
“In his new room,” the Eldest rasped out. “With his family.”
Leah’s eye flicked between Simon and the Nye. “Indirial’s here? Bring him out. We need his advice.”
The Nye shook his hood. “He is a room guardian, now. He cannot leave the gallery. And I do not think he would welcome visitors, at the moment, no matter who they are. He is…struggling with himself, you could say.”
So they wouldn’t get any help from Indirial. That was a disappointment that might well get them all killed—his experience was invaluable. With him on their side, he could almost believe that they would win. Without him…well, at least he could leave a Valinhall Gate open and retreat when things got too rough.
You wouldn’t do that, Caela said confidently. If you would, Mithra would have never chosen you. Neither would Azura, for that matter.
No, he admitted. But at least I’ll be able to order Andra and Erastes back.
A flash of light caught his eye, and he happened to glance up at the wea
pon racks on the wall.
The empty weapon racks.
Only two blades still rested on their racks: Azura, long and gleaming and silver, and Indirial’s Vasha. The others were all empty.
A distant hope rose in Simon’s chest. Maybe, just maybe, they’d have more backup than they expected.
But there was no need to count on theoretical support. He’d have to rely on what they had, and then hope for the best.
“Kai and Indirial were our two strongest fighters,” Simon said. “Working together, Andra and Erastes and I can take care of two, maybe three Incarnations before we run out of power. That’s if we can take them one at a time.”
“Which are ideal conditions,” Leah added. “That’s not likely.”
“Yeah. The problem is this.” Simon pulled out the mask and placed it on the table. Leah gasped and her hand jerked forward as if she wanted to touch it, but didn’t trust herself to do so.
“Simon, is that…was that…”
“It’s the same mask I used to fight Alin the other day,” Simon said. Alin’s eyes had gone flat and gray at the sight of the mask. “It allows me to draw much more power from Valinhall, maybe as much as an Incarnation, but there are…drawbacks.”
Leah’s fingers drifted through the air above the mask, tracing something that Simon couldn’t see. “It binds you to the House,” she said. “I can see the chains. The House practically eats you alive when you put this on, doesn’t it?”
Simon had never thought of it quite that way, but it sounded accurate. “That’s the problem. If I put on this mask, I’ll be a match for any of the other Incarnations. Even Ragnarus, I think. But I can only wear it for a couple of minutes, the way I am now, and then I’ll run out of power completely. If I keep it on any longer than that…”
“Double Incarnation,” Leah said, nodding.
Alin’s eyes were back to rainbows again, though the violet slices were shining bright. “Which means you die. That’s a pity. We could have used a Valinhall Incarnation on our side.”
Simon couldn’t keep the irony from his voice. “Yeah, that’s tough for you.” He tapped the mask with one finger. “This is the Valinhall weakness. We’re almost unbeatable in battle, but only for a few minutes. If we don’t win quickly, then Erastes, Andra, and I are going to end up either useless or dead.”
The three of them stood around the table, looking at the map, lost in thought. Simon couldn’t escape the vision of himself ending up like Kai: metal spikes shredding his body from the inside out, dying slowly and painfully in a way that the pool couldn’t heal. He wouldn’t mind dying in battle, if he had to, but he had trouble imagining a worse death than Kai’s.
“How many Travelers do you have, Alin?” Leah asked.
“Almost two hundred,” he said, and Simon’s hopes lifted again. Why were they even worried about a handful of Valinhall Travelers if they had two hundred other Travelers to call on?
Leah didn’t seem as excited as he felt. She simply nodded, as though that was the answer she’d expected. “And how many more fighters from Elysia?”
“Perhaps five hundred.” His eyes flashed silver, and he added, “Closer to six hundred, actually, and roughly a thousand ordinary soldiers equipped for battle. Enosh isn’t large.”
She sighed. “That’s what I thought. We have enough to match the force outside, without the Incarnations.”
That’s why, Caela said. If they have you to defeat the Incarnations, then they can focus on the ordinary battle. As it is, you have enough force to defend against the army or the five Incarnations, not both.
Leah rolled the Seed of the Hanging Tree between her fingers. “And then we have this. I didn’t want to use it, but we’ll take whatever weapons we can get.”
Alin’s eyes flashed gold. “So you did steal that from me. I’ll have it back, now.”
Leah’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Hmmm…no, I don’t think so.”
They matched stares for a few moments, red eye meeting rainbow, until Simon finally cleared his throat to get their attention.
“It was hers to begin with,” he pointed out. “Besides, aren’t you both going to use it for the same reason? As long as she uses it to trap one of the Incarnations, who cares which of you plants it?”
They eyed each other for a few seconds before Alin finally nodded and turned his attention back to the city map.
I hate doing that, Simon thought.
Doing what? Caela sent. Speaking common sense to two people who were bragging and posturing over something senseless?
Keeping the peace, he responded.
Oh. Well, get over it.
Such sage advice he got from his dolls.
Over the next hour or two—as time passed in Valinhall—they came up with a plan. Leah expected Zakareth to lead with his Incarnations and follow up with the army, but whenever the Incarnations were committed, Leah would join Andra and Erastes in separating their five enemies from one another. Simon and Alin working together had the best chance of actually finishing off an Incarnation, so they would engage any Incarnation by itself, kill it as quickly as possible, and move on to the next one. Whichever of the five was left by itself at the end would earn the Hanging Tree.
The plan was clear, simple, and Simon hated it immediately.
For one thing, it relied on the fact that they knew practically nothing of King Zakareth’s real plans. The Ragnarus Incarnation had shouted to practically the entire nation that he was going to attack Enosh, but he hadn’t given any specifics. Leah wouldn’t reveal how she had learned that the King was going to be here today, or that his real goal was Elysia, but she had claimed that her source was reliable. And she couldn’t use Lirial to scout out the enemy for more specific intelligence, because they had a Lirial Incarnation on their side. None of her scout crystals would return, so she didn’t bother sending them.
So that was one hole in their plan: they were relying on the assumption that King Zakareth would be attacking all at once, with overwhelming force. True, that was apparently his favorite strategy, but the King wasn’t an idiot. If he had decided that one huge assault was the appropriate tactic, that meant that he thought it had the best chance of success.
“We’re basically relying on him not knowing that we’re here,” Simon pointed out. “Does that seem stupid to anyone else?”
Alin and Leah didn’t say anything, but they didn’t seem to like having their intelligence insulted, even by implication. Simon forged on nonetheless. “They’ve got the Lirial Incarnation, so they probably have eyes everywhere. And he could probably sense you, Leah, as soon as you stepped into the city. Why wouldn’t he expect us to be here? Where else would we be?”
“I would like to suggest something,” the Eldest said, and Simon almost jumped. He had forgotten the Nye was in the room. “The King of Ragnarus forced Indirial to embrace Valinhall and become an Incarnation. It is safe to believe that he knows, by now, that the assault on this House has failed. If that is the case, then let us assume that he knows all. We have lost two of our strongest warriors, and the only full Traveler of Valinhall available to us is this boy. Imagine, for a moment, that he knows all this.”
Simon pictured the situation from King Zakareth’s side, and he had to admit, the situation looked pretty bright for them.
“If that is the case,” the Eldest continued, “then what need has he to account for you in his plans? He may expect his daughter to resist him, and he has surely planned for the Incarnation of Elysia, but to him, Valinhall is broken. We have been disposed of. Even if we brought all our force to bear, in his eyes we are only one Traveler. A Traveler who cannot even become an Incarnation and thereby challenge him, because Indirial has yet to fully rejoin the House.”
The Nye spread his black sleeves. “It seems to me that your greatest advantage lies in being underestimated.”
Leah tapped her chin thoughtfully at the Eldest’s words. “Even if what you’re saying is true, he will surely have considered the possib
ility that there are other Valinhall Travelers left.”
“Perhaps he has,” the Eldest said. “However, you have forgotten the one great weakness of the Incarnations. They are slaves to their nature.”
“Present company excluded,” Alin said, in what was probably an attempt at a joke.
The Eldest Nye stared at the Elysian Incarnation for a moment before he continued. “Ragnarus, for all its strength, is very straightforward. He pays the cost, unleashes the weapon, and destroys his target. In his mind, the target called ‘Valinhall’ has been destroyed. It is in my mind that you may count on some surprise, at least from the House.”
“That does help,” Simon said. “A little. Thank you. It’s not like we have much to surprise him with, though.”
“You may be surprised yourself,” the Eldest said, and Simon could practically feel a smile through the impenetrable darkness of the Nye’s hood. “One week ago, I took the liberty of dispatching messengers to the ends of the realm. I did not expect the Dragon’s Fangs to be taken hostage, but if I have timed this correctly—ah, see. No matter how old I get, I can still fit a trick or two in these sleeves.”
A pair of Valinhall Gates were opening at almost the same time, cutting the entry hall with slashes of white light. Simon had never seen two Gates open simultaneously before; instead of overlapping, they simply slid to the side where the edges of the Gates connected, pushing each other apart.
At practically the same time, the two final members of the Dragon Army stepped into Valinhall.
Denner wore, as usual, a brown dirt-stained traveling cloak. His clothes were rough and worn, and he wore three days’ worth of stubble. He carried his Dragon’s Fang in one hand, and under his other arm he had tucked a huge book bound in red-and-gold: his advisor, Hariman.
Simon recognized the other Traveler by reputation alone. Her solid gray hair was cut very short, close to the skull, so that she initially reminded Simon of Erastes. Her face bore the faint marks of a dozen small scars, as though she had taken many cuts to the cheeks while fencing. She wore armor that was both practical and simple, and she held her short-bladed Dragon’s Fang in both hands. Her eyes were bright green, and they surveyed the entry hall with distaste.