Maylin's Gate (Book 3)

by Matthew Ballard

  General Demos translated in halting broken tones.

  The chief spoke in a low monotone while wearing a grim expression.

  General Demos nodded and turned to face him. “They did not kill him. He says it’s not possible to kill one of the soulless.”

  “Soulless?”

  "That's what the chief calls the faceless man. A creature without spirit or life. The soulless come from the cursed lands."

  He furrowed his brow. "Cursed lands?"

  General Demos faced the chief and rattled off a few words in the ancient language. The chief spoke uninterrupted for several tension-filled minutes.

  After the chief finished, General Demos gazed at the floor wearing a blank expression.

  "What did he say?"

  Tongue flickering, General Demos met his gaze. "The cursed lands lie beyond the river. The sansan believe the spirits of fallen warriors haunt those grounds. They believe the spirits of those who led dishonorable lives give birth to the soulless. Sansan law forbids touching the cursed ground. Dishonorable spirits feed on living souls and turn them into the soulless."

  "So, they stopped us from entering the cursed grounds?"

  General Demos nodded. “They showed us great mercy.”

  The throbbing in his neck told him otherwise, but he held his tongue. "How many soulless have they seen?"

  General demos translated and the chief answered. "The chief said they haven't seen the soulless in many generations. But, in the last six moons they have seen three. The chief says the soulless are bringing death to his people."

  "Is that what happened to the sick people in the tent near the fire?" He said.

  General Demos translated and the chief nodded.

  As the general spoke, a sansan boy slipped through the opening and knelt beside the chief.

  The chief and the boy exchanged a few whispered words. The boy nodded and handed the chief a bundle wrapped in animal hides.

  The chief faced him again and spoke while the boy stood and slipped from the tent.

  "He says the cursed lands are bringing the sickness to all the sansan," General Demos said.

  "Who is the boy?" He said.

  General Demos listened to the chief for a few moments and translated. "The boy is the chief's son. He asked his father to give us something called rush berries."

  "What berries?"

  The chief opened the package and produced a handful of plump purple berries.

  "The berries keep the sickness away," General Demos said.

  "I can't take the boy's medicine," he said. "What if the chief or his son need the fruit?"

  The chief passed him the berries.

  "Take the berries," General Demos said. "It would be rude to reject the gift."

  He took the berries and smiled at the chief. "Thank you." He glanced at General Demos. "Tell him I said thank you."

  General Demos spoke and the chief grinned.

  "We have to reach those ruins," he said in a whisper. "Tell the chief that we have to enter the cursed lands to defeat the soulless. Ask him if he'll lead us."

  General Demos’s expression soured. “I doubt he’ll do that.”

  “Just ask him,” he said.

  General Demos shot him a hard glare before facing the chief. The general spent the next minute translating his words.

  The chief's eyes widened and the warriors spoke in urgent murmurs.

  General Demos’s eyes flashed with anger. “I told you. We are in no position to bargain.”

  The chief's hand raised and the warriors fell silent.

  General Demos’s head spun to face the sansan chief.

  The chief spoke with eyes narrowed.

  General Demos nodded before turning to face him. "The chief said if we choose to enter the cursed land, he won't allow our return."

  "What do you mean? We have to come back through here to reach the swamp."

  General Demos held his gaze. "He won't allow our return Ronan."

  His stomach sank. "I have to travel there," he said lowering his voice. "I won't ask you to go. I—"

  General Demos spoke interrupting him. "We’ve been over this. I'll not leave."

  "I can't ask you to do that."

  "You aren't asking."

  "Thank you." He faced the chief and spoke. "Will you lead us to the cursed lands?"

  The chief stared at him stone-faced.

  General Demos translated and the chief responded. "He will lead us across the river but no further. We will receive no quarter once we enter."

  His appetite evaporated. Would this nightmare ever end? He nodded. “I understand.”

  "We should eat," General Demos said. "The chief said we leave at first light."

  He scooped up a piece of meat and chewed. Would he meet his fate tomorrow? Would he find his answers?

  He popped a handful of rush berries into his mouth. A sweet and sour flavor puckered his lips. His thoughts drifted to Rika and a dull ache settled in his chest. What if he changed? Would Rika still love him?

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Heartwood Found

  Three keys of crystal, silver, and gold lay across Danielle's open palm. Before her, three keyholes loomed like stoic guardians.

  She wiped a thin sheet of sweat from her brow and studied the keyholes. Was Ormond telling the truth? Would opening the vault destroy its contents and Zen with it?

  Sweat trickled along her spine and her muscles ached with fatigue. How much longer would this nightmare last? What choice did she have? Finding a cure without the heartwood could take decades or may never come. The world couldn't wait.

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  Jeremy's concern-filled eyes met hers.

  "Take the others and leave this place," she said. "I'm going to open the vault."

  "No. I'll do it," Jeremy said. "I'll not watch you die. Not today."

  She shook her head while a wave of grief washed through her body. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

  Keeley glared at her. "I've not traveled across this god-forsaken desert, for the second time in a year mind you, to run away now. I'm staying and there's no use trying to stop me."

  A weak smile touched her lips. "I won't. Thank you Keely."

  Arber shifted into human form beside Keeley. "This is where I belong Danielle. With you." The guardian glanced between her and Keely. "You two are my family. We'll see this through together."

  The low buzz of fire and electricity swirled around Brees, but the shaman remained silent.

  "What about you?" She said.

  "What about me?" Brees said. "I can't leave." The shaman gestured toward the swirling elements. "Even if I could, I wouldn't."

  "I can't ask you to sacrifice your life for me. I know how you feel about the heartwood trees."

  "I don't know what to believe," Brees said. "I know you saved my life and my sister's. For that, I'm grateful. You didn't have to come back to Obsith. You could've turned your back on the plague and lived out your years in peace."

  She held Brees's gaze but said nothing.

  "But, you didn't," Brees said. "I won't turn my back on you now."

  She tipped her head to the shaman. "Thank you."

  "When the time comes, you'll make the right decision," Brees said.

  "Well, I'm not okay with this," Jeremy said. "I love you Danielle Deveaux and I'll not see you die. Your brother would never forgive me."

  She smiled. "I think Ronan will understand."

  "I'll shield myself and open the cache," Jeremy said. "There's no need for you to die."

  She shook her head. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you." She squeezed Jeremy's hand. "This is my journey. My responsibility. I have to do it. Now let's get on with it." She knelt beside the keyholes and ran her fingertips over the raised letters. Words at odds with the man who built them.

  Jeremy knelt beside her and a spirit shield flickered to life around them. "We'll do it together."

  She offered a
weak smile and touched her lips to Jeremy's. "Are you sure?"

  Ignoring her, Jeremy's wrist flicked. Shields appeared around each person in the room. Even Ormond, who stared bug-eyed at the display of spirit magic, received a shield.

  "Wait," Ormond said. "What about me? I don't want any part of this."

  Keeley glared at the shaman still wrapped in vines. "You'll hold your tongue. If not for Danielle's mercy, I would've shredded you already."

  "But... But... My family. They need me," Ormond said.

  She glanced toward the red-faced shaman. "Then say a prayer and hope you're wrong about this trap."

  Ormond's lips tightened into a thin line. "Fine, fine. At least let me guide you or we'll end up dead. You have to use the correct key in each of the locks. If the wrong key touches the wrong lock, you'll set off the trap."

  "The crystal key?" She said. "It goes in the top lock?"

  "No," Ormond said voice cracking. "That's not it at all."

  "How do you know?" Brees said.

  "A man in my position knows many secrets," Ormond said.

  "Then which?" she said.

  "You have to use the keys in the right order. Start with the crystal key in the lower right lock," Ormond said. "Use the crystal key with 'tolerance'. Turn it clockwise in one full circle. If you don't follow my directions, you'll set off the trap."

  She glanced toward Jeremy and the shield knight nodded.

  "Go ahead," Jeremy said in a whisper.

  With breath held, she faced the first keyhole. She slid the crystal key into the lower-right keyhole, and turned it clockwise in a full circle.

  A heavy click sounded beneath the crystal floor and she let go a held breath.

  "Use the silver key next," Ormond said. "It must be the silver key. The order is critical."

  "Which keyhole? She said.

  "The lower left," Ormond said. "Turn it a quarter-turn clockwise, and back again."

  She slid the silver key into the keyhole labeled compassion and did as Ormond instructed.

  A heavy satisfying click sounded in response.

  "And the last key?" She said.

  "After you insert it, press straight down," Ormond said. "Don't turn it."

  She slid the key into the keyhole labeled humility and pushed down as instructed.

  A third click came and the floor vibrated.

  "What's happening?" Jeremy said.

  A loud rumble came from deep beneath the crystal floor and her stomach sank. Had she done it wrong or had Ormond doomed them all?

  "Ormond, what do we do now?" She said.

  "I don't know," Ormond said. "Did you do as I said?"

  "Yes, of course I did. Were you lying?"

  Ormond's face turned a pale shade of green. "I value my life too much to lie now.”

  "Then what's happening?" Jeremy said.

  Ormond turned panic-stricken eyes on the keyholes. "I've never been present when the emperor opens his vault. The combination came from a reliable source."

  She whirled, heat flashing through her cheeks. What had she done? "A reliable source?"

  The rumbling grew louder and the floor shook. The elements surrounding Brees vanished. Trace's sphere pulsed with blue and white light. The room's crystal walls turned a deep shade of red.

  "We have to run," she said.

  Something slammed them.

  She whirled and her stomach twisted inside out.

  A seamless wall stood where the entrance appeared a moment ago.

  "I warned you," Ormond said. "Your greed and foolishness have sealed our fate."

  Keeley lunged toward the shaman and a steel blade flashed. "I'll gut you for this. You gave her the wrong directions on purpose."

  Ormond's eyes widened. "Me? I didn't. I swear."

  The rumbling grew louder and a low groan came from the crystal wall opposite the entrance.

  She whirled again and the rumbling stopped.

  An opening appeared in the crystal wall opposite from where they'd entered. A smooth corridor of glowing marble extended into the distance.

  She stood and glanced behind her.

  The others stared speechless as if the hallway might reach out and swallow them whole.

  "Untie me," Ormond said. "I've waited a lifetime to see the emperor's secret treasure. I've earned the right."

  She ignored the shaman's rant and took a tentative step toward the corridor.

  "Be careful," Brees said. "Traps far worse than what we've faced may line the hallway."

  "Can you find them?" She said.

  "If there elemental, I can," Brees said.

  She nodded and stepped aside.

  Keely gestured toward Ormond still writhing on the crystal floor. "What should we do with him?"

  "Leave him," she said. "I don't trust him."

  "We can't leave him alone with the elemental sphere," Jeremy said. "What if more of his friends show up and cut him loose? We'll never get another chance at the sphere.

  Jeremy made a good point. As much as Ormond disgusted her, she had no choice. "Make sure his shield is strong. He'll come with us."

  Ormond's eyes gleamed. A greasy smile cut through layers of fat. "Thank you."

  With a wave of her hand she released the vines holding down Ormond.

  Ormond groaned and the shaman's rolls spread across the floor4 like a melting bowl of gelatin.

  Jeremy pointed toward the detention shield surrounding Ormond. "Don't touch his shield. It's strong enough to kill."

  Ormond struggled to a standing position. The shaman wheezed and leaned over gasping for breath.

  She squeezed Jeremy's hand. "Are you ready?"

  "As I'll ever be," Jeremy said.

  "Arber?" She said.

  Arber nodded and shifted into a forest cat.

  Keely shifted beside Arber and the two padded toward the glowing entrance.

  "Let me go first." Brees brushed past the others and stopped at the entrance. The amulet on the shaman's chest glowed with shades of silver, blue, and orange.

  She stepped up beside Brees and reached for her nature magic. Channeling a sliver of energy, she reached out with her mind and probed for any sign of plant life.

  In response, a light tickle brushed her consciousness.

  Goose bumps flared across her body and her head buzzed. "I feel something."

  "What is it?" Jeremy said.

  She'd felt the sensation before when greeting trees of the forest, but she dared not speak the words out loud. Not until she knew for certain. "I'm not sure. We need to get closer."

  "I sense no elemental traps in this hallway," Brees said. The shaman walked forward taking well-planned steps.

  Her heart pounded and her mouth dried. On rubbery legs, she followed Brees down the hallway.

  The group walked along the corridor until it disappeared around a corner. Another hallway stretched into the distance. The group continued ahead until they reached a dead end.

  "That's it?" Keely said. "We came all this way for a dead end?"

  Brees stepped forward and placed an open palm on the smooth marble. The amulet dangling from the shaman's neck glowed silver. A series of strange words drifted from Brees's mouth.

  The marble shimmered and a wall of flame appeared.

  She gasped and lurched backward struck by the force of heat slamming into her face.

  The flames licked outward and shrouded Brees in a fiery orange ball. Inside the fire, Brees's amulet glowed like a red-hot ember.

  "Jeremy, can you help him?" She said.

  "I already tried," Jeremy said. "The flames ate through my spirit shield."

  The flames surrounding Brees grew brighter and the heat more intense.

  "He'll burn alive," she said.

  Ormond stared at Brees slack-jawed. "That's impossible. No shaman can hold that much energy alone."

  Her hands balled into fists and she stopped short of striking the shaman. "Then help him."

  Ormond lurched backward as if struck. "Me
?"

  "Who else?"

  Ormond's lips pursed. "You'll have to lower the shield."

  "Jeremy?"

  The shield surrounding Ormond vanished.

  With hand raised and amulet glowing, Ormond waddled toward the flame.

  "Wasn't he born to handle situations like this?" Keely said.

  She glanced between Keely and the roaring fire. "Every person has a limit. He's only one man."

  As if in response, the flames vanished and Brees stood in the hallway unscathed. The amulet around the shaman's neck dimmed. Brees doubled over and pulled in short hard breaths. "It's clear."

  Like a fisherman reeling in a catch, a presence tugged on her mind. The heartwood. Could it be real? "We're very near it now."

  "It?" Jeremy said.

  "The heartwood. I can feel it." Her voice trembled and tears welled in her eyes. "Just as we'd hoped. It's here."

  Ormond's eyes widened. "You can't unleash that travesty on the world."

  Jeremy stepped forward. Spirit roiled in the knight's outstretched palm. "You watch your mouth."

  Ormond's face flushed and the shaman stepped backward. "Keep your dog on a leash."

  "Jeremy, leave him," she said.

  "Temper your expectations." Brees's jaw clenched shut. "Anything that belongs to the emperor is bound to come with hooks."

  She pointed forward. "It's just around the bend."

  Brees nodded, strode forward, and froze where the hallway turned.

  She followed Brees barely able to breath. Heart pounding, she rounded the corner and gasped.

  A room carved in pure crystal opened before her. Soft light, the color of an afternoon sky, spread across a sky-blue crystal ceiling. Dozens of clear crystal barrels filled with a transparent liquid lined one wall. Stacked from floor to ceiling, grain sacks, wooden barrels, and dried herbs lined the far wall. In the corner, a wooden workbench sat cluttered with a variety of odd mechanisms and trinkets. A worn wooden stool sat before the desk. Trace's workshop.

  The unmistakable scent of fresh cinnamon filled the cool air. Tucked in behind the workbench, the red hue of a heartwood sapling peeked out above the surface.

  She gasped and lumbered ahead on unsteady legs. She reached out, hand trembling, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She could save the forest. Save Ayralen itself.

  "Wait," Brees said. "The room might be trapped."

  The sapling thrummed inside her head and greeted her like a long-lost kindred spirit. The heartwood tree stood a few feet away beckoning her forward. She stretched out her fingertips to touch it. She laughed and glanced at the group filling the room. "We've done it."