World Gate: A Kethem Novel

by Dave Dickie

  And suddenly, there was a split in her skull, two pieces of her, one coldly rational, the other exuberant and insane. The coldly rational piece took control of her vocal cords. “The amulet is doing something to me. I am trying to control it.” The exuberant part tried to make her command the others to untie her, but the rational part fought it, and the exuberant part flitted off to something else, incapable of staying on point for more than a moment. It tried to make her legs run. She stopped it. It tried to make her laugh hysterically. She stopped that. Her heart was pounding so fiercely that she could actually hear the thudding in her ears, and the rational part of her head forced it to slow. She realized the coldly rational piece of her head was indeed her, and the exuberant little nut of insanity was not.

  She didn’t know how she did it, but she clamped down on the irrational part, pinned it down. It squirmed and wiggled and went from exuberant to angry, then petulant when straining did not release it.

  “Gyeong, can you loosen the ropes on my wrists without releasing them?” she asked. Gyeong glanced at Stegar.

  “Daesal, the amulet is glowing. Are you… you?” asked Stegar.

  Daesal nodded calmly. “I am. The amulet is trying to take over, but I have it contained. I would like to keep my hands bound as a safety precaution, but I would rather not have them lose all feeling, because my circulation is being cut off.”

  Stegar snorted. “Sounds like Daesal.” He nodded to Gyeong, who loosened the knot a bit. Daesal flexed her hands.

  “Better,” she said. She focused on the text floating in front of her, a task made harder by the constant vigilance she needed to keep that little nut of insanity from sprouting. There was one long block of text across much of her vision, then a set of individual - words, she supposed - separated by spaces along the bottom. She guessed the words across the bottom were commands of some sort, and she picked one to focus on. After a moment, the text turned green and expanded into two words stacked vertically on top of each other, the original one and a new, shorter word. When her attention went from one to the other, the one she was paying attention to brightened. After making each one highlight a few times by changing her focus with no noticeable effect, she shifted her attention to the next word along the bottom.

  All the text vanished except the word she had been looking at, which now displayed only the shorter phrase in orange. Daesal frowned and focused on it again. It turned green, and the longer word appeared on top of it. She focused on the longer word and glanced to the side. The entire display lit up again.

  There were four words at the bottom of the screen, the one that controlled whether the device was powered up or not and then three others whose purpose she could not guess. There was a small circle to the side of the last one. She focused on that. It turned green, but no additional text or symbols appeared. “There are options for controlling the device, but they are all in great troll. I am not sure how to proceed,” said Daesal out loud. While she was speaking, the small circle she was focusing on vibrated, and a line of text in great troll flowed across her vision. It was responding to her voice.

  With a sudden flash of inspiration, she spoke directly to the amulet. “Can you display information in other languages?” There was a single word displayed in great troll. She hoped it was yes. “Display information in human language,” she commanded. The text at the bottom of the screen changed to an archaic version of common. The Old Empire version, she was sure, the basis for all human languages around the Cair Sea. Except the Stangri of course, and they were invaders that had settled in the area after the fall of the Empire.

  “I have it,” she announced. The longer text returned, this time in common, and turned out to be a warning that the device was almost drained of mana. That was not good news. While Daesal used magic and could, theoretically, charge a device, this wasn’t made by humans and the standard mana pools used in Kethem were different. If she did it incorrectly, she could ruin the artifact. This was also a device that had lasted almost five centuries. Human artifacts would leach out in a year. This one was more sophisticated than anything she had seen before, and there might be tricks to replenishing its mana store that she did not know.

  She looked up at the control panel. It was dark now, but when she touched it, it lit up again with the same text as before, or something close to it. To her disappointment, the words were still in great troll. Then she looked across the menu at the bottom of the floating text. There were four words displayed, “Power”, which had turned off the device when she was experimenting with it, “Notices,” “Communication”, and “Voting.”

  None of those seemed helpful, so she focused on the small circle again, “How may I help you?” appeared across the screen.

  “I would like this panel translated into common,” she said out loud.

  The display changed to “Warning. Translation services have higher than average mana usage requirements. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

  Daesal said, “yes.” The orange text on the panel did not change, but suddenly there was Kethem script underneath glowing in green. “I can see the translation,” she said. “It says… it says this gate has been compromised by humans. It has been locked. There is a warning not to perform the transcendance ritual at this gate. It says it is not safe here. We… they… have retreated to the secondary gate until they determine what the humans have done and how to remove it.”

  Stegar frowned. “Not safe here? That is not comforting. And what does compromised mean? I thought humans had never penetrated into troll lands, never made it beyond the Paths of Blood. How did they get all the way here?”

  Daesal nodded. “It was a warning from five centuries ago. Much of the history from that time has been lost. Still, I would think finding Vrargron Mard Chazun would have been widespread news.” She focused on the menu option that put the amulet in a dormant state and shut it down. “I have turned the amulet off to conserve what mana is left, but I do not think that makes it safe to wear. And, in fact, the giggling, mad part of her head was still straining to free itself. “You may remove it and untie me, in that order, please.”

  Gyeong lifted the amulet off Daesal gingerly and handed it to Grim. Daesal felt that strange division in her head vanish. “You have great bravery, magic woman,” he announced as he unbound her hands. “I would not put that fell thing around my neck for all the gold in Hertime’s coffers.”

  Daesal smiled and said, “I take that as a major compliment, for you, my friend, are a brave man.”

  Gyeong flushed. “Combat is one thing. Magic is another.”

  Daesal shrugged. “Bravery is bravery.” Gyeong’s flush deepened and he looked away. There was some story there, but it did not seem like he wanted to share it at the moment. She turned to Stegar. “Well, if they travelled to this secondary gate, I do not think they learned to undo what the humans of that time did here, however they did it. It is clear from the failing little helpers that they did not expect this to go on for such a long period of time.”

  Stegar nodded. “I agree. Although how long they expected it to take is hard to guess. And if this secondary gate doesn’t allow them to create new great trolls…”

  “Then they would have died off,” said Daesal, finishing his sentence.

  “But then, who is this troll that is visiting each week?” asked Grim.

  Daesal frowned. “A regular troll, perhaps? Maybe the great trolls have more than the little keepers to keep the city in order for their return.”

  Grim shook his head. “I do not think so. If they had, it would be more than one troll, and it wouldn’t be a short visit every week. And all indications imply they though the city would be empty for a shorter period. Why would that continue for centuries?”

  “I do not think we know enough to guess the answers,” said Daesal, “but what we do know is that this artifact will not help us escape the city. If it is locked, then only the trolls will be able to unlock it, and it sounds like it was locked for a reason.”

&nbs
p; Gyeong growled. “We should wait for this troll. When it arrives, I will challenge it to single combat. If it has honor, it will help us when I defeat it.”

  There was dead silence. Then Grim said, “Gyeong… we’re talking about a troll. You know, twelve feet tall, three, four hundred pounds of muscle, flosses its teeth with Kethem Guards. And you want to challenge one to single combat?”

  Gyeong nodded. “I have done it before.”

  The silence this time was longer. Finally Grim said, “You beat a troll? In single combat?”

  “Four. But only one at a time,” Gyeong conceded. “There are no trolls in Kanday, in the Stangri lands from which I come, but there are in Kethem. Troll slaves, captured in the Kethem-Troll war before the humans were defeated. There are some owners that fight their slaves, pit them against each other.” Gyeong moved his hands back and forth, knocking his fists together. “This kind of combat is distasteful. There is no honor in fighting for money. So I, Gyeong Ran of the Sa Kajok, I suggested a different wager. I offer what coin I have to compete in combat. If I lost, the owner takes the money. But if I win, they set the troll free. I did not have much, but the owners did not think it likely that I would be victorious. They were foolish, very foolish. After four, no one would accept my wager.”

  The silence stretched out. “And, out of curiousity, what did the free trolls do?” said Grim after a while.

  Gyeong shrugged. “I defeated them. They were not worthy of notice after that. So I do not know.”

  “And,” said Stegar, “just curious. How exactly did you defeat them?”

  Gyeong nodded sagely. “It is a good question. They are powerful. It was clear that a single blow from them would be enough to crush me. So I came up with a … I think you call it a strategy, a plan to defeat them.”

  “Which was?” asked Stegar, one eyebrow raised.

  “Do not let them hit me,” said Gyeong.

  “Ok,” said Grim after a moment, “that’s an option then. But I don’t know that the troll will accept your challenge, so maybe we should come up with an alternate plan. Just in case.”

  Gyeong’s face screwed up in confusion. “How could he not? I, Gyeong Ran of the Sa Kajok, will have challenged him. He would be unworthy if he did not fight!”

  “The troll might not see it that way, Gyeong,” said Daesal. “Not everyone follows the codes of Stangri culture.”

  Gyeong thought about that, then finally nodded. “This is true. I have seen this in Kethem. For you, my friends, do not despair. I will teach you civilized behavior.”

  “We thank you for that,” said Daesal, looking solemn. “But in the meantime, we still need a viable plan.”

  Gyeong looked thoughtful. “If I defeat this troll, he may not help us as honor requires, but he will be defeated. We can then force him to explain his fell magic to us.”

  Daesal looked thoughtful. “I think this might require some teamwork, Gyeong, but you are right. If we can capture him, we can explain our situation and gain his trust and assistance.”

  Stegar laughed. “Or maybe we could just, I don’t know, make him help us use this thing since his life will be forfeit if he doesn’t.”

  Daesal nodded and said, “Or, at least, tell use the fastest way out of the city and back to Kethem.”

  “Seems like a good plan,” said Stegar.

  “Seems like the only plan,” said Daesal.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When they returned to the inn, there was a surprise waiting for them. Beldaer was awake, alert, and was at least from his outward appearance in good health. He and Hantlin were sitting in the common room in what would be a low chair for a troll. For the human and elf, it was too high, and the seat was large enough that both had just crossed their legs under them rather than try to dangle them off the seat.

  There was a fire in the massive fireplace and, on one side, a little smoking tent made from leather Nyjha had set up for the purpose of drying out meat from a deer he had taken down outside the city with his bow. Whoever was on watch fed the fire coals constantly to keep the heat and smoke inside the tent at the right level. They were well on their way to having jerky for travel rations if they had to leave the city quickly. There were a few berries and tubers as well. Nyjha had apologized about that. “Some of the plants I know, but many I do not, and I think we must be cautious.”

  When they entered, Hantlin said, waving toward the elf, “he wanted to go looking for you, but I convinced him that we would be unlikely to find you since you were searching the city, and that it was best to wait.”

  Daesal nodded. “Welcome back, noble elf. It is well past due for us to thank you for trying to save us back in Tawhiem.”

  Beldaer hopped down from the chair and bowed. When he stood straight again, he towered over Daesal by more than two feet. “You do not need to thank me. I put you in the situation in the first place. At best, I made up for some of that. I am in your debt for tending to me while I was in d’vanlanthiriel, the healing state.” He looked over the rest of the group. “I understand the Hasamelis priest teleported out of the cave and that you found a teleportal that brought us to Vrargron Mard Chazun.” The elf shook his head. “It is a wonder. The heart of the great troll republic. I have heard of it in writing and d’Eruanna, but had never hoped to see it myself.”

  “D’Eruanna?” asked Grim, curious.

  “The sharing of minds,” said Beldaer, which did not make things any clearer for Grim.

  “The more pressing question,” said Stegar, “is if you know a way out of the city and the troll lands in general. While Kethem and Kom are no longer at war, I would prefer not to test the peace by running into trolls on their sacred ground.”

  “I do not,” said Beldaer, shaking his head. “When we visited before the great war, it was always at the invitation of the trolls, from a teleportal to which only they had the coordinates. And while there is no enmity between the trolls of today and my race, there is not much contact, and they are different from the great trolls of old. I do not know that I could sway any trolls we run into if they decided to seek retribution for the human invasion of their lands. I do not know how they would react if they saw me.”

  Daesal nodded. “We have found several teleportal junctions in the city. All but one are inactive, and that one has a single destination that seems functional. But we would be teleporting blind, and it is not clear if there's enough mana to return if the destination is worse than this place. The one outside the town we arrived at no longer works at all. I believe water has covered the teleport pad in the cave, making it inoperable. Not that the cave would have been a sensible destination other than as a last resort, but even in that event it is not an option.”

  Daesal and Stegar glanced at Nyjha, who looked on impassively. There was no indication of dislike towards each other on his or the elf’s face, but the air between them was so tense it seemed like a tossed coin would bounce off the empty space. Daesal sighed. They could not keep the troll temple a secret from Beldaer easily, and most certainly could not if it was their path to escape. Not without leaving him, and Daesal could not do that, Nyjha’s warnings or not. “There is still something active up in the temple,” she said. “I have not seen it’s like before. Six black columns in a hexagonal pattern, with a control panel of some kind in front of it.” At her words, anger radiated off Nyjha like fog off of ice during a spring thaw.

  The elf’s expression did not change, but there was a glint in his eye that Daesal did not like. “A world gate,” said Beldaer. “I am not surprised. The trolls had one or more of them, and certainly Vrargron Mard Chazun would contain one.”

  “And what is a world gate?” asked Daesal.

  Beldaer answered carefully, as if he were weighing each word carefully. “It is a powerful artifact left behind by a race that died out aeons ago. They can be used, but only if one is careful, if one knows what they are doing. Otherwise, the results can be catastrophic.”

  “And the elves have these world gates?
You know how to use one?” Daesal said.

  “I know some of the basics,” said Beldaer. “If you take me to it, I will see if it is configured like the ones in use by my people. I may have to experiment a bit. If it is even remotely similar, it will allow us to travel to any other world gate, including the ones controlled by the elves.”

  Daesal had already decided Beldaer was not going to have unsupervised access to the artifact. The world gate, as he called it. That glint in his eyes wasn’t greed, wasn’t anger, wasn’t excitement. She didn’t know what it meant, but it was clear that it invoked some powerful emotion in Beldaer, and he was not being forthcoming as to why. Nyjha had been right to warn them about the elves use of these devices. “The great trolls locked it,” she said. “We tried to activate it, but without success.”

  Beldaer said in a flash of anger, “that was foolish. Very foolish. These things are not meant for … people that are unfamiliar with how they work.” But Daesal knew what he had been about to say was not meant for humans. Daesal saw Beldaer get his temper back under control. “My apologies. You knew not with what fire you played. But please, refrain from it in the future. There is no good that will come of it, and perhaps great harm.” Daesal nodded. “But you say it is locked?” said Baelder. Daesal nodded again. “Then there is little that can be done with it,” said Beldaer. “If even basic commands are locked out, it cannot be used without the key.” Daesal noticed Beldaer suddenly looked more relaxed, the glint in his eyes fading. He was happy that the gate was inoperable.

  “Perhaps the key is attainable. There is evidence that the trolls are visiting regularly,” said Daesal.

  "Great trolls?” said Beldaer, shocked.

  “We presume so,” said Daesal, “but we do not know for sure. I am concerned they may notice our activities with the world gate. And the gate appears to be the only option for us to leave this place without attempting a cross-country trek when we do not even know the location of our starting point.”