World Gate: A Kethem Novel

by Dave Dickie

  Kazabul smiled this time, and projected to her, “I did not, but there was always a chance that, knowing your true nature, you would join our side. A small chance, but I thought I would see. Even if that failed, it was fully worth it. There is an aspect to the summoning that I do not think you are aware of. It gives me a location, a mark in your world. And with enough chaos, enough power, I can do this.”

  The image in the circle vanished, and there was a tearing sound behind Daesal, something like every sail in the Kethem fleet ripping apart at the same time. She felt a flash of heat on her back, the smell of brimstone. She and Stegar turned quickly, and the same tall, dark figure was standing there, a few feet away, but this time the floor under his hooves was smouldering and he was outside the kill zone. Kazabul was still grinning and he spoke to her mentally, his words pounding into her skull this time. “You see, I may not get the Hasamelis priest, but there is a prize that is its equal, and that is you. Beludhal and Lerguzohn are still two of the most powerful demons in our world, and while their faction is small, they have continued to deny us access to this world, have kept the location of this world gate they entered through to your world a secret. They insist on talking to the native population, negotiation, diplomacy, letting the weak dictate what we can and cannot do. They hid you here to protect you, and to keep you from becoming a target in the game for power in our world. But you are hidden no longer, and I think they will pay whatever price we ask to get you back. They will give us the coordinates to this world gate, and we will send enough demons to capture it, and that will give us our portal.”

  Daesal was staggering. Kazabul’s thoughts when he was a projection in the conjuration circle were just conversation. HIs physical presence made each word a weapon that was slamming into her brain, hitting it with enough force to daze her. Stegar could not hear the words, but he could see she was suffering, and he stepped between her and Kazabul. Kazabul grinned wider. It turned out he did have teeth that you could see when he was this close, rows of small serrated blades built to shred whatever it bit. Kazabul spoke out loud this time. “Are you going to use your sword to stop me?” He laughed out loud. “We have learned enough from the Sambhal clergy; you have nothing that could hurt me.”

  “Good to know,” said Stegar, “but actually I was thinking more along the lines of this.” When he raised his arm, the dumbbell-shaped Troll weapon was in it. It went off with a shriek of superheated air, the beam jumping from one of the ends directly to Kazabul’s chest. There was a cracking sound and Kazabul howled, but instead of falling back it took two quick steps forward and struck at Stegar with an arm. Stegar tried to dodge, but Kazabul landed a glancing blow that was enough to lift him high into the air and send him crashing down a few feet behind Daesal. She could not tell if he was breathing or not.

  Kazabul was making a harsh grating sound, and where the troll weapon had hit it she could see cracks in Kazabul’s skin, or maybe it was a carapace, because it looked to be thick and hard like the shell of a crab. Something black was welling out of those cracks and falling to the floor, and where it did the floor started burning. But regardless of his injury, Kazabul still reached for her. Daesal was struggling just to stay on her feet, the power of Kazabul’s words still reverberating in her head. She was helpless as Kazabul prepared to grab her. Suddenly there was a huge boom, like a block of granite had fallen from a great height, and Delia was standing in front of Daesal while Kazabul went flying in his own version of Stegar’s swan dive. Delia still had her arms out, having crashed into Kazabul while invisible and losing the spell as a result.

  Unlike Stegar, Kazabul did not stay down, and the floor was smouldering where he landed, with small fires starting everywhere Kazabul’s version of blood had fallen. Delia closed and went to smash her fist into Kazabul’s head. Kazabul caught her arm in his own and they stood there for a moment, a battle of pure strength. Delia’s clothes caught on fire where Kazabul gripped her, but she did not appear to notice or care. Then her arm started to bend back, slowly but with inevitability. Kazabul was stronger than she was. Delia suddenly jumped her feet off the floor and tried to use Kazabul’s hold as a pivot point to swing her feet into his chest. Instead, he swung her over his head and smashed her entire body into the floor, the boards splintering under the impact. Kazabul put a foot on Delia’s chest and heaved, and with a sharp, cracking sound, Delia’s arm ripped off. There was no blood, just dust and gravel that sprayed out from the stump. Delia tried to leverage herself up with her remaining arm, but Kazabul raised its foot and stamped on her head once, twice, and a third time. There was another crack on the third stamp and Delia stopped moving.

  Kazabul turned back to Daesal, but she wasn’t alone anymore. Jedia, Teinhaj, and a dozen Kethem Guard battle mages stood there, ported in by Jedia’s spell, the mages preparing spells. Gyeong and Hantlin were there as well. Gyeong had his sword out and a completely maniacal expression on his face. Jedia motioned to them to hold.

  Kazabul stood for a moment. Then he said, “You cannot stop me. Anything powerful enough to kill me would kill everything in this room as well, and I don’t think you came here with that in mind.”

  Gyeong called out loudly, “Do not be so sure, dark one. I will face you alone, and we will see who is standing at the end.”

  Jedia glanced at Gyeong and smiled faintly. “My friend,” he said, “thank you for sharing tea with me. I ask in the name of that friendship that you let me deal with the demon first.” Gyeong’s half-crazed grin slipped a bit and he glanced sideways at Jedia. Finally, looking a bit disappointed, he nodded. Jedia turned back to Kazabul and said, “We cannot stop you. But there is no need to. You have what you want. I am a priest of Hasamelis just as you asked. There is no need to injure anyone else. I will go with you willingly.”

  Kazabul snorted. “I do not believe that, and even if I did, it would be pointless. Your god would strip you of your power before I could take you to the other side. If you know what is happening, so does he.”

  Jedia walked closer. “Can you not feel his power, demon? I assure you, I am as much a priest of my god as I have ever been.”

  Kazabul looked a little confused. “I… can. But your god should be protecting this world. Why is it not?”

  Jedia was just a foot away from Kazabul at this point. “My god is powerful, too. He cannot break the rules that govern our universe, but there are ways around them for the gods that created the bindings in the first place. Ways that allow us to travel to planes that are even more ordered than here, where even the slightest hint of mana is prevented from leaking past the weave of physical laws that govern it.”

  Kazabul frowned and said, “Those would be impossible to reach for us. The amount of energy to punch a hole to such a place would be incalculable.”

  Jedia nodded. “It is difficult even for my god. But it can be done, and it is both a place I don’t think your kind could reach and one that I doubt very much you could ever return from.”

  Kazabul’s eyes suddenly blazed and it cried out, “No!” reaching up an arm to bring down on Jedia and crush him. Before the arm could fall, there was a pop of air rushing into a suddenly vacated space and both Jedia and the demon disappeared.

  Everyone stood still for a moment, then Daesal staggered over to Stegar and half-fell, half-knelt over his crumpled form. She took a wrist in her fingers and felt carefully, then breathed a sigh of relief. “He has a pulse.” Then she yelled as loudly as she could, “I need a healer here, now!” Someone came running in her direction and she looked up. It was Hantlin.

  “Please move aside my lady, I will care for him,” said Hantlin. Daesal struggled to her feet and stepped back while the healer went to work. She glanced around and saw Teinhaj down on one knee next to Delia. She walked over. Delia’s head was crushed, giant fractures running through her face. A fiery red glow was coming from those cracks, burning off Delia’s long black hair, radiating heat that Daesal could feel from where she was standing. Teinhaj didn’t notice. H
e was holding the hand of the arm Delia still had left.

  Delia spoke, but it came out sporadically in little spurts of words. “Sorry. Commander. I. I do. Not think. We will get. A chance to. To experiment in. In bed.”

  Teinhaj squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I said that. Sorry about a lot of things. I should have spent some time finding out about more about you. Mautua fights on the waterfront. Why you like to dress in black. Whether you read books. A lot of things. I don’t know if it matters to you or not, but I will be putting you up for the Hero of Kethem medal.”

  Delia was quiet for a moment, then she said “It. Matters. Thank.” And then the red glow flickered out and she stopped moving.

  Teinhaj stood up. His face was expressionless but his hands were clenched in fists. “Damn,” he said. Then he noticed Daesal standing near him. He avoided eye contact with her and said, “Delia was a valuable piece of equipment. This is not going to sit well with my superiors.” The lack of eye contact and that he was focused on Delia was for the best. Daesal could feel her skin returning to normal, but she suspected if Teinhaj looked closely questions would be asked she didn’t want to answer.

  Teinhaj had other things on his mind. Daesal could taste his scent and it was the scent of a man barely holding onto his self-control. Daesal looked away. “You have found and stopped a conspiracy that would have been the end of not only Kethem, but the world as we know it. I think they will accept the loss.”

  Teinhaj was quiet for a moment. “They will, I suppose. Platinum mission. Finish it regardless of the cost.” He looked down at Delia’s body. “I did just save Kethem, didn’t I? Maybe it's a good time to retire. End my career on a high note.”

  Daesal looked at Teinhaj carefully and said, “A wise man once told me you have to measure the cost of doing something distasteful against the cost of not doing it. Sometimes that cost can be high, and distasteful can be too weak a word. But the cost of not doing it in this case… would be a price we could not afford to pay. Delia did the right thing. So did you, Teinhaj.”

  “Delia had no choice,” said Teinhaj, sounding disgusted.

  “I believe she did,” answered Daesal. “From the little time I knew her, she was someone that could make her own choices, even if they were constrained by her inner rules. Not that different from us, frankly. I think she could have been more cautious, could have waited, could have taken a more defensive approach. That would also probably have resulted in Kazabul taking me, but she would have survived, if that was what she had wanted.”

  Teinhaj looked at Daesal. “Perhaps. It doesn’t make losing someone in my command any more acceptable.”

  But Daesal could feel that it actually had made Teinhaj feel better. She could smell him pulling himself together. She gave him a small smile and said, “Not just a piece of equipment, then.”

  Teinhaj laughed, but it was a bitter laugh. “No, not just a piece of equipment.” He sighed. “Fine. Give me some time to clean up here. I need to take care of…” and he paused for a moment, then finished, “her. Then I need to send a report up the chain of command explaining what we learned. Then there’s going to be a strategy session to detail all the more appropriate ways I could have handled this. But I think we can take a trip to the elvish embassy before that. Give me until tomorrow.”

  “The elvish crystal ball?” asked Daesal.

  Teinhaj nodded. “You delivered. I am a man of my word.”

  Daesal looked at him and said, “You are a good man.”

  Teinhaj looked down at Delia and said bitterly, “Tell it to her.”

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Stegar was sitting up and looking decidedly unhappy when Daesal walked in. The Kydaos temple healing room was, like all of them, small, austere, and cold. “And how are you today, my friend?” she asked.

  “Anxious to get out of here,” Stegar answered.

  Daesal looked around the ten by six foot stone room devoid of the tiniest decoration. “I believe they intend to make every patient feel that way.” She looked at Stegar. “Your injuries were extensive. Healing spells can only do so much knitting before the body needs to adjust to its new condition. It takes time.”

  “Time and, quite frankly, pain.” Stegar put his hands on the robe covering his chest and felt his ribs. “They feel fine, but it hurts every time I breath.”

  “The ribs are not exactly the same shape they were before. It takes the muscles time to adjust to the new configuration,” said Daesal.

  “I know,” said Stegar. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He squirmed a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position, then sighed and tried to relax. “The pain is immaterial. I will deal with it. What is our next move?”

  “Our next move?” said Daesal, eyebrows raised.

  Stegar smiled. “I could ask your leave to accompany you, and I will if you insist, but I don’t think I need to.”

  Daesal smiled back. “You do not. I would welcome your company. There will be some travel involved.”

  Stegar thought back to why he’d left Bythe in the first place. “Probably not a bad idea for me to be somewhere else for a while anyway. Where are we going?”

  Daesal looked curious but did not ask questions. “Kuseme, I think. The library there is extensive. But I think that will merely point the way to other places. My guess is Pranan, where some of the old empire records still exist. If there is a place to find out about the twelve great swords, that would be it.”

  Stegar looked thoughtful. “And I suspect you have a special interest in one of them, Morpangler perhaps?”

  Daesal nodded. “I will see the great trolls in six months. Information on Morpangler, gods of the dice willing, shall lead to its last mission, and how the troll’s world gate was corrupted.”

  “We will see the great trolls in six months,” Stegar corrected.

  Daesal laughed. “Indeed. I have a comfortable stipend from the hold. It is more than enough to cover both of us.”

  Stegar said, “I will take a small payment as a manservant, no more.” He paused, then added, “And lodging and meals, for which my expectations are low.”

  Daesal said “I will pay you what I consider fair wages for services rendered, and we will stay in the same accomidations. My expectations, by the way, are not low.”

  Stegar looked like he was going to argue, then stopped and reconsidered. “Agreed,” he said finally. “Best I be nearby to keep you out of trouble.” Daesal snorted, but Stegar moved on to another topic. “So, the crystal ball? Did Teinhaj give it to the elves?”

  Daesal nodded. “Teinhaj took it to them himself. He asked me to go with him, but I thought it best to remain in the background.”

  Stegar nodded. “He will get some credit for improving human-elf relations, at least.”

  “Some,” said Daesal, “but I did get a small gift from Faeranduil delivered to my apartment yesterday.”

  “The elvish ambassador?” asked Stegar, raising his eyebrows.

  “One and the same. The elves are a powerful race. And a subtle one.”

  “Do tell,” said Stegar.

  “It was a spell that projects a realistic image, sufficiently solid and detailed that it appears to be a statue. You can adjust the size from something only a few inches tall to its full size,” explained Daesal.

  “A full-size what?” asked Stegar.

  “A full-sized image of Beldaer,” said Daesal. “It was clearly a image from before his trip to Tawhiem. He is quite impressive-looking when he’s in full health, I must say.”

  Stegar laughed, then stopped suddenly. “But then he knew you not only forced the KNI to return the crystal ball…”

  “But that I did it because I owned Beldaer a debt. Yes. As I said, subtle. I believe it’s intended as an invitation to visit and tell Faeranduil the story of what happened to Beldaer.”

  “An invitation you intend to take?” said Stegar. “You know what Beldaer said about the gate commands and the D’Shar. From context, I have to assume th
at’s some kind of assassination squad, and the elves have spells that Kethem, and we, have no match for.”

  “I know. And yet, it seems like so much of what we saw, what we did… Stegar, the great trolls are still with us. World gates could be a source of unlimited power that could eliminate poverty and suffering for everyone. There are friendly demons on the other side of that gate, powerful beings that could be our allies. These are all amazing things.”

  Stegar nodded carefully. “Yes, they are. And each one is a piece of string that, when pulled on, will unravel the entire story and your part in it. But if you decide to share that information, I have no objection.”

  Daesal squinted at him. “I can smell your objection, you know.”

  “I have no objection that I am going to express verbally,” said Stegar.

  Daesal sighed. “You are a difficult man.”

  Stegar shrugged and said, “I have been called worse. For my part, I will say you are an amazing wo… person.”

  Daesal snorted. “I can smell that too. You are not sure what I am. You saw what was happening to me when I was speaking with Kazabul.” She had not told Stegar about the mental conversation with Kazabul, that she was a changeling. She would, but this was the first time she had visited when he seemed fully aware, and she wanted to make sure he was clear-headed whey they had that conversation. But he’d seen enough to know she was not what she seemed.

  Stegar laughed. “That is not true. I am sure you are Daesal. Whether you are a woman, or even human, that is what I do not know. It doesn’t matter. Daesal is enough.”

  And Daesal could smell that Stegar was speaking the truth. She thought for a moment about Teinhaj and Delia. Delia had been posthumously awarded the Hero of Kethem, the highest honor you could receive in any branch of the military, awarded by the High Council itself, and her remains had been buried in the graveyard outside of Bythe reserved for fallen soldiers. She wondered what favors Teinhaj had to trade for that particular event to occur. Probably quite a few. But she suspected Teinhaj had measured the cost of doing something against the cost of not doing it and ended up on the Delia side of that equation. All for someone that wasn’t, in the normal sense of the word, alive in the first place. And yet, it seemed appropriate.