by Will Wight
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
WARNING
Welcome!
[Series Title]
The Lightning Wastes
Caverns of Flame
Ragnarus
[Sequel Page]
THE LIGHTNING WASTES
Will Wight
www.WillWight.com
Copyright © 2014 Will Wight
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Patrick Foster.
IMPORTANT:
What follows is a small collection of short stories set in the universe of the Traveler’s Gate Trilogy, which begins in the novel House of Blades.
If you have not read House of Blades or its sequel, The Crimson Vault, then you will not understand the following stories.
It’s okay; it’s not your fault. I understand. You’re still handsome and/or pretty.
If you were simply browsing the Kindle Store and this book caught your eye, I urge you to close this preview and go check out House of Blades. I’ll wait.
If you’ve already read the Traveler’s Gate Trilogy—or at least the first two books—then come on in, my friend!
These stories are intended to give you a closer look at the Territories and characters that we didn’t get to explore in the main trilogy. If you’d rather stick with Simon, Alin, and Leah, I’ll understand! City of Light will be available in early 2014, and I hope it meets your approval.
Still with me? Then buckle up. We’re headed off the map.
Here there be dragons.
Welcome to Elysia, young Traveler.
You will have heard many stories about what it means to be one of us. Do not be fooled. No outsider understands our purpose. They think we are here to lead other Travelers, to make the decisions that they cannot.
This is true, and it is not true.
They think we are here as a last resort, as an ultimate power, to keep the Incarnations in check.
This is true, and it is not true.
They think we are here to balance the other Territories, to keep them from obtaining too much power and upsetting the natural balance.
This is true, and it is not true.
What I am about to tell you is known by few, and understood by even fewer: we are not here to lead, or to threaten, or to eliminate threats. In the course of our duties, we will do all these things, but ultimately we are here for a single purpose.
We are here to guide. We are here to lead by example, inspiring other Travelers to live up to their own potential. We should be as beacons in the darkness.
Welcome to the City of Light.
-Elysian Book of Virtues, Page 1
The Traveler’s Gate Chronicles
(Collection #3)
THE LIGHTNING WASTES
Valor is an easy virtue to admire.
We make heroes out of those who charge recklessly against superior forces. We idolize the warriors who risk their lives to save the innocent, who stand firm in the face of certain death. Truly, bravery and courage are fine qualities.
But Travelers of Endross can take it too far.
-Elysian Book of Virtues, Chapter 7: Gold
358th Year of the Damascan Calendar
1st Year in the Reign of Queen Leah I
9 Days Until Autumn’s End
Queen Leah the First slumped over onto her camp desk. The thing almost collapsed—it was made to fold and pack up for easy marching, and she'd been using it as a permanent fixture for months now. She was lucky it had lasted this long without it buckling under her.
She kept her face pressed against the desk. So what if the desk broke, sending her crashing to the ground? She couldn't bring herself to care.
She had other things to worry about. Such as her meeting with the nine Overlords, which had just ended.
“Could that have possibly gone any worse?” She asked, into the desk.
Indirial's cloak rustled and a chair creaked; he must have sat down. “An Incarnation didn't blast through the tent and kill us all. In that light, I'd say we came out ahead.”
Leah raised her head, and it seemed to take ten times as much effort as normal. “They're barely listening to me anymore, Indirial. They're not concerned about the nation. They can barely see past their own cities.”
Indirial's easy smile never left his face, blinding white against his dark villager's skin. It was hard to put a dent in his optimism. “You're young, and they barely know you. Give them time. Besides, the nation's going through a crisis. Of course they're going to look to their own realms first.”
He had taken his black cloak off, draping it over the back of his chair, leaving his chain-wrapped arms bare. She had rarely seen the shadow-chains marking his arms that short; they barely twisted around his wrists. He wore confidence like a second cloak, solid and dependable even in a crisis. He was as old as her father—old enough to be her grandfather, in fact—but he looked twenty years younger. It must have been a Valinhall thing.
Leah glanced over at the table next to her. It was much sturdier than her portable writing desk, and covered with a giant map of the kingdom of Damasca. The map was almost lost beneath a chaos of pins and buttons in every color imaginable. The release of the Incarnations had worked on the nation like a kick on an anthill. Cities were practically trading refugees, as their citizens fled one citadel for perceived safety in another. Thousands of them were here, camped under her command, less than five miles from the sealed city of Cana.
“It's not what they're doing that bothers me,” Leah said. “Look at what they're not doing. None of them bothered to address the Endross Incarnation. Not even Overlord Feiora.”
Only a few days ago, they had received word that the Endross Incarnation had burst forth from its prison beneath the city of Eltarim. It had left the city largely untouched for some reason, blasting off into the wilderness to terrorize ordinary merchants and a handful of small villagers.
Indirial folded his arms. “Overlord Feiora rules Eltarim, but the city and the surrounding lands are practically untouched. She's no Endross Traveler.”
“She should have been,” Leah said. Her father had appointed Feiora Torannus to guard the Endross Incarnation, even though she was an Asphodel Traveler. In every other case, the Overlord Traveled the same Territory as the Incarnation he or she guarded. Feiora was the sole exception, and at the moment Leah was having trouble recalling why. “In any case, that's no excuse for her shirking her duty.”
“You think she may have a...personal reason for refusing to listen to you?” Indirial's grin got a little wider. “Maybe you shouldn't have trapped her brother alive.”
Lysander Torannus, Feiora's brother, had been another Overlord. Before she sealed him into a block of solid crystal for treachery and attempted regicide.
Leah glared at the Overlord of Cana. “I'll let him out at any time, if you think she won't mind me executing him instead.”
Indirial put on a thoughtful look. “No...no, I don't think that would win you any friends. Besides, she has a point. She's got enough trouble keeping her people from panicking to hunt an Incarnation down. What would she do if she found it?”
Leah had to resist raising a hand to her pounding head. She always got a headache after meeting the Overlords. Instead, she scooped up a report detailing the number of Travelers under her direct command.
“How many Endross Travelers did you have working for you?” she asked.
“Six.”
“Can you find any of them now?”
“I'd bet I can tell you exactly where they are.” I
ndirial craned his neck and looked meaningfully out the flap of the tent.
A few miles distant, but still clearly visible, the city of Cana glowed like a cherry-red sunset. The whole capitol, from wall to wall, was covered by a shining dome of scarlet light.
Sealed by the power of the Ragnarus Incarnation. No one had been in or out since the Incarnations first escaped, over three months before.
Leah found herself wondering whether any of the Endross Travelers were still alive. Whether anyone was alive, under the dome, or if their blood, minds, and souls had been used as fuel for the weapons of the Crimson Vault.
“I don't see any on the list,” Leah said, scanning it quickly.
Indirial leaned forward, shuffling through her papers. “I think there's...ah, yes, here we go. One of Cana's weather-workers made it out before the city was sealed.”
Leah took the paper he offered her. “An Endross weather-worker? I never knew Cana had one.”
“The weather in Cana's pretty mild, so she had an easier job than most, but she warded off her fair share of storms.”
She stared at the one single name under the “Endross” column, as though she could make it multiply by sheer force of will. “Where are the others? Even counting the people trapped in Cana, we should have seen some Endross Travelers from other cities.”
Indirial hesitated for a moment before speaking. “This is just hearsay, you understand, but I've talked to the other Overlords. They're all missing Endross Travelers. I'd go so far as to say we're missing maybe half of all the Endross-trained Travelers in the kingdom.”
“Where did they go?” Leah asked. Her tone sounded much more harsh than she meant; she sounded like she was going to track them down and strangle them all one by one.
That didn't sound like such a bad plan, actually.
“With the King dead, and the Incarnations loose, and no Overlord specifically looking over their shoulder, where do you think they went?” Indirial leaned over the map. “Some of them probably deserted, I'm sure some of them started following their Incarnation around, and I'd bet most of them took the excuse to move to their Territory. You know how Endross is.”
Endross itself was a blasted landscape, half storm-wracked desert and half deadly jungle. Endross Travelers were the only ones crazy enough to try and live there.
Leah stood up, taking care not to put any weight on the unsteady desk. “Since the Overlords are unwilling to do their jobs, I'll have to go myself.”
Indirial pulled his cloak off the chair. “I figured as much. Let's go get that weather-worker, she can guide us.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not us, Indirial. I have a different assignment for you.”
The Overlord's eyebrows raised. “You can't go without a bodyguard.”
“I need you to hunt down the Endross Incarnation. Kill it if you can, but if not, drive it away from the populated areas.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Huh. Yeah, there's no one else around to do the job. Very well, my Queen, I live to serve.” He gave her a little cloak-flourishing bow. “I will leave as soon as you select another bodyguard.”
“I hardly need one.”
“No one is safe alone,” Indirial said, for once completely serious. “Particularly not with the Incarnations around. And no matter how confident you are, you'll be surrounded by Endross Travelers in their own Territory.”
“They're Damascan citizens,” she pointed out. They should obey her without question.
“They're Endross,” he said simply. “You need a bodyguard. I haven't seen Kai in weeks—”
Leah shuddered at the thought of spending even one day with Kai. She had never gotten over her distaste for the man. He was simply...eerie.
“...and Denner's in the south, leading refugees away from the Asphodel Incarnation. If I could find Kathrin, I could hire her to guard you, but that would take a few days.”
Indirial's grin was back, in full force. “That leaves one Valinhall Traveler left.”
“It doesn't necessarily have to be a Valinhall Traveler,” Leah protested.
“Would you prefer one Valinhall or four Tartarus?”
Bringing one guide and one bodyguard meant that she was confident enough in her royal commands that she didn't need to lean on force. Bringing one guide and four bodyguards meant that she felt she needed protection, because she didn't expect the Endross Travelers to obey her. They would see it as a sign of weakness.
“...one.”
“Excellent!” Indirial said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I'll open a Gate.”
***
Indirial left his Gate open, then walked out of the tent. She called after him, but he didn't respond, which was typical: once the Overlord had a new goal in his sights, he tended to head straight for it, blocking everything else out.
She turned from the portal and faced the entry room of the House of Blades. It looked like nothing so much as a sitting-room for a wealthy noble. A wealthy noble from a century past. It was a little dim, and the swords—hung in wooden racks on the walls—left a little to be desired, as far as decor went. Ornately carved tables sat here and there in the room, covered by books and surrounded by plush, red-cushioned chairs. Against one wall set a comfortable-looking red sofa, though she thought she could hear a soft growling coming from that direction. Maybe there was a badger or some other small animal stuck under its cushions.
Between the ostentatious furniture and the soft lighting, the scene almost looked like it belonged in an attic, covered in dust. She ran a hand along the top of a desk. It was spotlessly clean, and had been recently polished. She'd only entered Valinhall a handful of times before, and she had never caught a glimpse of anyone doing housework. Perhaps the House cleaned itself. Or maybe this was how they trained Travelers: by forcing them to dust the furniture.
“Excuse me,” she called into the hallway, which extended out beyond the entry hall. “Is anyone there?”
She felt distinctly uncomfortable, calling into a foreign Territory like this. Who knew what sort of creatures she might awaken? Then again, she had never seen anything here that looked remotely dangerous. Indirial and Simon always spoke as though the House was the most deadly Territory of all the eleven known to man, but she had yet to see it. It seemed quite comfortable, to her.
When no one responded, she marched forward, into the hall. Doors stretched down the hall on either side of her. To her left was a door with a single small circle; to her right, a door with a huge circle orbited by three small circles. Some way of distinguishing the bedrooms, she supposed, but she had never gotten a look inside one of these doors. She had no idea which one was Simon's. Maybe she should just knock on each one separately, and see if someone answered.
Just as she had raised her hand to knock, the door on the far left opened, and a woman stepped out. She had a pair of goggles pushed up her forehead, tied around the back of her head with a leather strap. They looked almost like Avernus flight goggles. Her long auburn hair was bound back with a rag, and she wiped her hands with a similar rag. She looked like a miner's wife, more than anything else, though Leah knew she had some job here in Valinhall. She wasn't entirely clear what the job was, no more than she could remember this woman's name.
Her eyes grew wide, and she immediately fell to her knees, prostrating herself on the ground. “Your Highness! We were not expecting you.”
“You may stand,” Leah said wearily. She got sick of having to order people to stand; wouldn't it be much easier if they stood by default, and then she could order them to kneel if that was what she wanted? “I'm looking for Simon.”
“Of course, my Queen, of course,” the woman said, scrambling to her feet. She tried to smooth her hair, realizing she held a dirty rag in her hand, and stuffing the rag into her pocket. “I'll have to wake him up, though. He's been fighting like a madman. Spends hours deep in the House, comes back bleeding so badly that he can barely make it into the pool. The imps are going to get him one of these
days, I swear they are. Maybe you can talk him out of it, Highness.”
“Perhaps,” Leah said. Imps? She wasn't sure what the imps were, though she had heard about Valinhall's healing pool before. “Which room is his?”
The woman hesitated. “I'm sorry, Your Highness, but it might be better if you waited in the entry hall. I'll fetch him for you.”
“I've woken him up before,” Leah said, and the other woman frowned.
“Have you, now? I had wondered why...well. You're that Leah, are you?”
Leah cleared her throat. “Yes, I probably am.”
The woman nodded as though she had just figured out the solution to a difficult puzzle. “Well, now. That explains some things. I always think I know that boy better than I do, but he never talks about himself. He always makes you ask.”
She chuckled, and Leah laughed politely along.
At exactly which point did I lose control of this conversation?
“So, which bedroom...” she said, trying to steer the woman back on track.
“Ah, yes. This way. I know you said you could handle it, but you might want to stay in the doorway.”
Handle what? Leah thought, but then the other woman was pushing on one of the doors, the one marked by a large half-circle above two smaller circles.
Inside was a bedroom just as well appointed, if not as large, as any of the rooms in the royal palace in Cana. The bed was a huge four-poster, with a bedside table on each side and a mirror against one wall, next to a washbasin. The only aspect of the room that Leah didn't approve of were the shelves built into the far wall, so that they were the first thing anyone in the bed would see upon waking.
The shelves were covered in dolls. Dozens of little girls’ dolls, wearing every sort of clothing from a villager's brown shirt and pants to long, flowing court dresses. They had blond hair, and black, and white, and red, and every color Leah had ever seen on a human being.