The Gilded Empire

by Ryan W. Mueller

  Kara stepped closer to Warrick. "Can you do anything for him?"

  "Give me time. I've never seen anything like this." Warrick ran his hands along Rik's body, muttering and shaking his head. Kara had never seen Warrick so flustered.

  "Rik, I know this must all seem very strange," Kara said, settling down on the ground beside him. "But this is not a dream. I am here. Do you know who that man is?"

  Rik moved his eyes up and down.

  "For now, he's on our side. I don't know if that will last, but he's the best hope you have right now. We have to trust him."

  Though Rik couldn't move his face, she could see the worry in the way his eyes moved around. In his position, she wouldn't want to trust Warrick either. After all, she wasn't sure she did trust him, despite all the times he'd saved her life.

  She glanced at Warrick. "Well?"

  "You need to learn patience. I'm still trying to figure out how it did this to him. Healing something this extensive involves more than putting your hands on someone."

  Kara paced in the passage, wishing Warrick would hurry up and deliver the news, even if it was bad news. Eliza had taken a seat on a nearby rock, her gaze focused on Rik.

  "You really seem to care about Rik," Kara said. "How long have you known him?"

  "I met him just today. We're on a mission to find Krinir so he can go home."

  Kara forced a smile. "Then I guess we'll be seeing more of each other, because that's also where we're heading."

  "Rik is really important. He's a Weaver. That man has to save him."

  "Warrick will do his best," Kara said, and she believed it. If curing Rik didn't suit Warrick's purposes, he would not bother spending this much time examining him. She still couldn't bring herself to think Warrick would care about Rik as a human being. He sure hadn't when he'd burned Crayden. He hadn't cared about any of them.

  Eliza fell silent, so Kara thought about Warrick almost kissing her before. He was a handsome enough man, quite handsome in fact, but she couldn't feel anything for someone who had killed so many, whatever the reasons. It didn't matter what he'd done for her.

  But there was an even greater reason. She still remembered the way she'd felt about Aren. Though she had no idea how much time had passed since his death, it still felt too recent. Remembering him, she struggled against tears.

  She turned away. She couldn't let Warrick see her crying. It was strange to think that she'd told him very little about her time in the Shadowed Land. She'd never mentioned anything beyond going through the Nexus. He'd never demanded that she give him any information she didn't want to. Yet another enigmatic aspect of his personality.

  What did he want? What kind of man was he really?

  It was hard to think that the same man who could kill so many could also have remarkable healing talents. She believed that God gave people abilities like that. Why would God give Warrick an ability that fit his personality so poorly?

  But now she wasn't sure she believed in God? Perhaps He did exist, but He'd abandoned the world and left people to suffer in the Shadowed Land. That wasn't the God she believed in.

  Maybe she could understand some of Warrick's views.

  At last, he rose from Rik's side, and his downcast expression said it all.

  "I can't heal him."

  Chapter 28: The Sun Room

  Weeks had passed, but Danica had found no success in creating a portal back to Terra. She was beginning to wonder if her own misgivings were stopping her. With every day that passed, she sensed Krinir's growing anger. He never lashed out at her, but she wasn't sure how long that would last. He was not stable. That much was clear.

  Danica had read everything he'd given her, but nothing told her how to create the portal she needed. As far as she could tell, she was the first person in recorded history to possess such a talent. Krinir seemed to understand that, but soon his patience would run out.

  Her life was lonely. The servants never spoke to her, and Krinir had grown more and more distant with every day she failed. She shouldn't have craved the insane god's presence, but she needed company of some kind. Every day was the same tedious routine.

  And then there was the fortress. It was furnished extravagantly, and Krinir had tried his best to make the inside look warm and inviting, but she craved sunlight and grass and trees—the comforts of home, of a life that seemed a distant memory.

  Every time she went to the machine, she craved to see her world more than anything, even if it meant freeing Krinir from the Shadowed Land. But her wishes were not granted.

  One day, she met with Krinir to try again. He appeared to be in a more downcast mood than usual. At times, she could almost deceive herself into believing he was human, that he had normal emotions and wasn’t a being meant to destroy.

  "Shall we try again?" he asked with no enthusiasm.

  She nodded, and they entered the room together. As usual, Krinir pressed the button on the machine. Its strange buzzing filled her as she clung to its arm. She tried again and again to create the portal she needed, but it always revealed the same misty landscape.

  "Are you even trying?" Krinir asked with narrowed eyes.

  "Of course I'm trying!"

  "Well, you're not trying hard enough."

  "What do you expect me to do?" she asked, growing enraged. "I was never meant to do magic. Your followers created this magic in me. I'm doing the best I can, but I feel lost. You've done nothing to help me find my way. You expect me to do all this—"

  Something invisible slammed against her, and she went flying across the room. Her head collided with the wall, and she knew a moment of extreme pain before she lost consciousness.

  When she woke, her head felt as if it would explode. She lay in her bed, beneath the warm covers, wishing she could stay there forever. If she kept her eyes closed, she could almost pretend she was back at her home in Crayden.

  Back then, her life had been simple. She was the daughter of merchants, and though they hadn't been nobility, they'd managed well enough—even after Warrick's excessive taxation. She never could have imagined that her life would become what it was now.

  She wanted to go back to a time when things had been simple, before Crayden was burned, before she ended up here in the Shadowed Land. She didn't care that she was a Weaver.

  All she wanted was another chance to be normal.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. The light in her chamber stabbed her with its brightness. She groaned and turned her head so that she wasn't looking up at the golden chandelier.

  "You're awake."

  She groaned again, knowing she'd just heard Krinir's voice. When she looked across the room, she saw him sitting in a cushioned chair, watching her.

  "Have you come here to hurt me again?" she asked.

  "I shouldn't have done that. I could have killed you."

  She lifted her head to glare at him. "Don't pretend that you care about me."

  "Oh, you know I don't care about you. I only care about what you can do for me." He leaned forward in the chair. "But you'll see that I can reward those who serve me well. I don't want you to die. You are one of the few humans I've found interesting."

  She sat up fully. "Then you aren't going to kill me once I get you back to Terra?"

  "I'd prefer not to, but that's ultimately up to you. Unfortunately, I will have to keep you close. I revealed too much to you when we first met. I can't allow those secrets to spread."

  "Then I'll be a prisoner for the rest of my life?"

  He shrugged. "You could look at it that way. But you'll find that I can make your prison a grand one. You won't care that you aren't permitted to leave."

  "I don't want to be a prisoner of any kind."

  "Then I could always kill you," he said. "Would you prefer that?"

  "No. I didn't ask for any of this."

  He shrugged again. "Life doesn't care what you want. And don't even start complaining about being a prisoner. I've been a prisoner for a thousand years. You won't even
live a tenth of that. And any prison I devise will be better than the Shadowed Land."

  She sensed his anger growing again, so she kept her retorts to herself. There was nothing to gain from antagonizing him. He was capable of making her life miserable, and she hated that she had no control anymore. Maintaining a positive attitude through all this was impossible.

  "You're discouraged," he said. "You really do want to succeed. I see it now."

  She did want to succeed. Some might decide that suicide was a way out, but that wasn't the right path for her. Perhaps she was being selfish in wanting to live, but she couldn't bring herself to take her own life.

  "I still don’t want you to destroy the world," she said.

  "I won't destroy everything, but I have to destroy something. It's my nature. Just as it's your nature to live. I know you've considered taking your own life. Anyone with any bit of rationality would consider it in your situation. I can understand that." He smiled. "But it wouldn't work. I am a god after all. It may be my nature to destroy, but those aren't the only powers I possess. I could bring you back from anything you might do to yourself."

  Danica had figured as much. That was part of the reason she'd never given much thought to that option. If Krinir had been worried about her taking her own life, he would have taken more precautions against it.

  "I can be reasonable enough," he said. "I just have my needs. If I'm not sowing the seeds of humanity's destruction, I'm not happy, and if I'm not happy, I'll get even more destructive. I might actually destroy the entire world."

  Danica didn't want to anger him, but she had to argue. "Let me get this straight. You destroy things so that you don't destroy them even worse. That's just wrong."

  "Not the most elegant way of putting it, but you're essentially right. It's my nature. It will happen. You can't do anything to convince me otherwise."

  "It's still wrong."

  "No, it's the natural order of the world we live in. What was wrong was when Rador tried to make me both Creator and Destroyer. Such opposing forces cannot exist within one person."

  "You said there were three forces in the world: Creation, Destruction, and Restoration. If you could combine all three in one person, what would happen?"

  "An interesting question," he said. "The combined power of Creation and Restoration could be enough to offset the power of Destruction. Or it could drive the person even more insane. Regardless, there's no point speculating about it. Lionar is somewhere that even I can't reach him, not from here at least."

  Danica was sitting at the edge of her bed now. "I don't think you really want to destroy things. It's more of an addiction. You have to do it, but you'd rather not."

  "I don't know about that. There's a certain joy that comes from it."

  "Any addict could say that about their drug of choice."

  "Destruction as a drug?" he said. "A strange way of describing it." He chucked softly. "I know that you're trying to change me, but it won't work. I am what I am."

  "No matter what you say you are, I don't think you're pure evil."

  He chuckled again. "Neither do I. Destruction is neither good nor evil. It is what it is: a necessary force in the world. In many cases, you can't create the new without destroying the old. It's the natural way of things. Who am I to fight that?"

  "You're a god, aren't you?"

  "Some might call me that, but the truth is a lot more complicated."

  Danica clenched her fists in frustration. She'd once thought changing Berig's mind was hard, but he was nothing compared to Krinir. The god's powers were matched only by his stubborn refusal to change his ways. Perhaps he was right, and she couldn't change him.

  "I'd like to show you something," he said, rising from his chair. "Can you walk?"

  Danica placed her feet on the floor and experienced a slight dizzy spell as she stood. Once it passed, she felt steady enough. "Yes, I think I can."

  Krinir led her through the corridors of his fortress. Eventually, they reached one of the locked doors. Krinir pressed a hand to the door, and it glowed before swinging open. The room beyond greeted Danica with a sight she never thought she'd see.

  It looked as if the sun was shining in there.

  "I call it the Sun Room," Krinir said. "It isn't the sun shining in there. It's hundreds of Sunlamps, a device from one of the other worlds connected to ours through the Shadowed Land. They aren't quite as good as the real thing, but they help me remember."

  Danica stepped into the room, feeling the warmth of the Sunlamps on her skin. She'd forgotten how it felt to be properly warm. "Why did you wait so long to show this to me?"

  "I was worried it would eliminate your desire to return home."

  "If anything, it makes that desire stronger."

  Krinir smiled. "I was hoping to hear that."

  Chapter 29: A Cruel Test

  Kara stared at Rik's petrified body. "What can we do now?"

  "I have no idea," Warrick said.

  Kara glared at him, longing to strike him. "You're the powerful sorcerer. You should know."

  "I am not a god!"

  "But Krinir made you the Creator," Kara said. "You're more than a normal sorcerer. There has to be something you can do."

  "If I knew what to do, I'd do it. I've seen enough in the Webs to know we need to get Rik back to normal." Warrick began pacing, muttering under his breath. He settled down on a nearby rock and closed his eyes. After about a minute, he opened them and said, "The Webs are telling me nothing. Krinir has made the strands dark."

  "Then we'll just have to rely on ourselves," Kara said.

  Eliza cleared her throat, sitting on a nearby rock. "I don’t know if this will help anything, but we found this scroll. It was written in some kind of code neither of us understood."

  Warrick's expression lightened. "I need to see that scroll."

  Eliza handed the scroll to him, and he read through it. No one disturbed him, for he looked deep in concentration, likely to lash out at anyone who interrupted him.

  At last, he said, "This place we're in might just be the most important place in all the Shadowed Land. This is the place where Krinir and I battled Lionar almost five hundred years ago. Somewhere in here lies the secret of where I sent Lionar."

  "I don't understand," Kara said. "Shouldn't you know where you sent him?"

  "Krinir must have blocked those memories. For all these years, I knew that I had fought him and imprisoned him somewhere. I never knew where."

  "Does this scroll tell you where?" Kara asked.

  "No. I must have thought it was too important to put on this one scroll. It merely tells me where I'll find the answers, and where we'll find what we need to cure Rik." He scanned the scroll again. "If' I'm reading this correctly, both answers should be in the same place."

  "We also need to find my father and Selene," Eliza said.

  Kara turned to her. "Who?"

  "They came here with us, but they fell into some kind of pit. Selene's a powerful sorcerer, so she probably used her magic to save them."

  Warrick closed his eyes again, focusing intently. After a few moments, he said, "The strands leading to them are also dark. Krinir has certainly been thorough."

  Kara shuddered. "If he can do that to the Webs of Fate, if he can make you forget so many things, how can we ever hope to stand against him?"

  "I wish I could give you an answer," Warrick said, "but Krinir has made it impossible to find any help in the Webs. Every time I look at potential paths to his defeat, I see nothing but dark strands." He slammed a fist against the rocky wall. "When I get my hands on Krinir."

  Kara didn't know how to react to Warrick's anger. She'd never seen him this angry, and however much he'd helped her, he was still the man who'd slaughtered an entire city.

  "We need to go deeper into this place," he said. "We'll have to hope we can find your father, Eliza. It looks like he might play some role in the Webs, but it's difficult to tell when Krinir has made so many of the strands dark."
>
  Again, Kara wondered if Warrick would have any inclination to save Eliza's father and Selene if they might not be important. Did he care only about those people who could change the world? Had ordinary human lives lost all importance for him? It seemed a depressing way to live, and when she looked in his eyes, she could see how pained and lonely he felt.

  Warrick pointed directly ahead. "We should take this passage."

  "But that's where that horrible thing came from," Eliza said, her face pale in the flickering light of the flame Warrick held in his hand.

  Kara put a hand on her shoulder. "If we want to cure Rik, we have to take that risk."

  "We'll have to leave him here," Warrick said. "At this point, he's dead weight."

  Kara didn't like the way Warrick had stated it, but she understood his meaning. Carrying Rik would only slow them down.

  She knelt down next to Rik and looked into his eyes. "We're going to have to leave you here, all right? I can't imagine how terrifying this is, but we'll return. I promise."

  Warrick shook his head. "You shouldn't make promises you might not keep."

  "You mean promises like when you promised to help and protect the people of the Empire?"

  She expected him to argue, but instead he turned away, as if he knew he'd already lost the argument. That was something she could appreciate. He wasn't afraid to admit he'd made mistakes. She had expected someone much different, someone she could dismiss as lost and evil, someone she could hate. But she couldn't hate him anymore, not completely.

  They started down the passage he'd indicated. Kara hung back with Eliza.

  "I'm not sure I like him," Eliza said, gesturing toward Warrick.

  "I know I don't like him," Kara said, "but he's our best hope right now."

  "He opposes Krinir. That's good at least."

  They delved deeper and deeper underground, through dark passages that twisted in serpentine patterns. There were many branches, but Warrick assured them that he knew where he was going and that they could find their way back to Rik. Kara had her doubts.

  As they traveled, they encountered a few small monsters, but Warrick handled them with ease. She was in awe of his magic. It flowed so effortlessly. But then she remembered the evil he'd committed with that magic. Sometimes in her dreams, she still heard the children of Crayden screaming, still saw her father's face for the last time.