by Ben Hale
“Can we explore the temple in the morning?” Light yawned.
“I’m afraid we cannot wait.” Lira came to a halt at the edge of shadow.
“Why not?” he asked.
“The dakorians are already here,” Lira replied, pointing to the hulking figures ascending the steps.
Chapter 13: The Hidden Chamber
“They haven’t been here long,” Jeric said, eying the temple.
“They’re still placing guards,” Lira agreed.
Light yawned again, obviously not interested. “We should have brought Shadow for the night work.”
“There’s always night work,” Water said, his tone amused.
Light shrugged wearily. “Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.”
As they talked, Lira scanned the temple with augmented vision. The structure was set atop a small, oddly shaped hill. Rather than a simple mound, sheer walls ascended for fifty feet, ending with a flat top. Almost perfectly round, it looked like a squat turret.
Stairs ascended to the top of the hill, where the temple occupied the entire summit. Gardens and lofty trees had once graced the exterior, but the obscure location had discouraged patrons from visiting, and it had gradually fallen into disrepair. Jeric had mentioned it was abandoned and it looked borderline decrepit.
The temple contained a circle of pillars, each taller than the last as they spiraled to the center, where a towering pinnacle rose above the center of the hill. A spiral roof ascended to the center pillar, and the windows between the pillars showed an interior with sweeping staircases and fine walls, most of which had been stripped of anything of value.
Dakorians flanked the stairs, with others at the top of the stairs and stationed around the summit. Others moved inside, their torches a steady, unwavering light. Lira frowned at the sense of familiarity, and wondered why the temple would seem memorable.
Wylyn.
Her hand clenched into a fist at seeing the krey woman, and she recalled failing to kill her on Grenedal. Jeric sidled up to Lira as the vestiges of sunset faded on the horizon. Lira resisted the surge of irritation, but he was examining the building with a keen eye.
“You said it was once a krey outpost?” she asked.
“That’s what I believe,” he said.
“You believe?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
His grin was faint in the darkness. “The krey have not lived on Lumineia for thirty thousand years. My assumptions are based on rumor, myth, and legend.”
“So you don’t know,” she said flatly. “Is there something you do know?”
His smile widened and he pointed to the hill. “I know that hill is not a natural formation.”
“You think the Verinai built the hill to support the temple?” Water asked, glancing to Jeric.
Lira’s eyes widened. “The hill doesn’t support the temple, the temple hides what lies beneath.”
“And what is that?” Light asked.
“A Gate Chamber,” she breathed.
The shape was unmistakable. Throughout the Empire world Gates were used for the lower houses to travel. All looked the same, with a distinctive circular wall and a pointed roof that led to a spire. The construction and maintenance of a Gate was costly, and only the wealthiest had personal Gates capable of traveling across the Empire. This particular location had likely been built without Ero’s knowledge, and rock had been placed above and around the ancient building to hide the chamber. The center pillar likely contained the beacon.
Lira’s gut clenched. She’d banked everything on the idea they had time on their side, but if a functional Gate resided beneath the temple, their quest would be over before it began. Already the sounds of crashing came from within the temple as the dakorians sought to discover its secrets. It was only a matter of time until Wylyn realized her goal lay beneath her feet.
“Is the Gate still active?” Light asked with a yawn.
“We need to get inside,” Lira said, her voice tense. “If they find an active Gate here, Wylyn won’t need to build one.”
“How can we get in without being noticed?” Water asked. “Shadow always does the infiltration work.”
Lira looked to the base of the hill where a pile of boulders leaned against the cliff. It looked random, as if a piece from above had broken free and fallen. But there was no hole in the hill above. She stabbed a finger to the mound.
“There,” she said. “That’s where the entrance should be. We might be able to get in before they realize what they’re standing on.”
Without waiting for an answer, she hurried through the shadowy trees. It appeared that half the dakorians were present with Wylyn. If Lira was discovered, Wylyn would seek to eliminate the threat, and this time there was no place to flee.
Lira reached the edge of the tree line and looked upward, to the dakorian soldier standing directly above the pile of boulders. She scowled and eyed the gap, but there was no way they could cross the twenty feet of moonlit grass to reach the hidden entrance.
“Light?” Water asked.
“I’m on it.”
Light rubbed his eyes and stepped out of the trees. Lira gasped and reached out, but Water caught her hand. “There’s an advantage to being made of magic,” Water murmured.
Light strode across the gap, pointing skyward. With every step a transparent shield appeared, expanding with him until he’d reached the opposite side and attached to the wall. Like an invisible roof, it seemed to bend the light like water, warping it around the path. Abruptly she realized Light had made it so the view remained unchanged from above.
“My lady,” Water said, motioning to the path.
She snorted, annoyed that she would feel attraction at such a time. She eased from the gap and into the open, and when the dakorian did not look down, she crept across the open stretch of earth to the pile of boulders. Water joined them and Jeric lowered his voice.
“Our passage seems barred,” he said, pointing to the boulders. “I don’t suppose you have a key?”
“I do,” Water said.
He reached down and pressed a palm against the earth. Droplets of water immediately seeped from the soil. The drops merged and pressed into the gaps of the boulders, rising, expanding. More water rose into view, filling the gaps between the stones and gradually pushing them apart.
At a faint grinding of stone, Lira winced and shot a look upward. The dakorian was leaning down, his expression one of suspicion. He made a hand signal that she recognized, and she realized they were out of time.
“They’re on their way,” Lira warned.
“Almost there,” Water said, his voice strained.
The boulders lifted and moved, forming an expanding tunnel. Lira spotted movement at the stairs and poked Light in the stomach. He lurched awake, and at Lira’s direction, cast another false light wall on that side. The weird glass stretched across the gap as dakorians appeared, taking shape just as Tardoq appeared.
“Thirty seconds until they’re here,” she hissed.
“Not enough time,” Water said, his face tight with the effort to lift the boulders. “We’ll have to go now.”
The boulders had lifted enough to form a small tunnel, revealing the bottom of a large, white door recessed into the hill. Jeric dived through and Lira followed. Then Water kicked Light and he clambered through the gap, moving far too slow for Lira’s liking.
The movement of the boulders had shifted the dirt, creating tiny gaps that allowed her to see the approaching dakorians. The foursome had their hammers ready, their pace slow as they searched the exterior of the hill. Twenty feet from the light wall that hid Water . . .
“Go,” Lira growled.
Water hardened the liquid supports and dived into the opening, worming his way through the tiny tunnel as the boulders shifted above him. Lira caught his hand and yanked him into through as the stones settled, closing off the hole. She all but punched Light and he started.
“The illusion,” she hissed.
“Right,�
�� he said.
He reached out and Lira heard a faint pop, and guessed the mirage had been extinguished. Then she held her breath, not daring to move as the dakorians appeared on the opposite side. They came to a halt and moved about, scanning the boulders, but the cracks were dark. Tardoq hefted his hammer as if he was about to strike and Lira retreated to the door—but a shout from above drew Tardoq’s attention and he departed. A moment later the others did as well.
Then Light began to snore.
Water clamped a hand over Light’s mouth just as the last dakorian turned. Lira grimaced as Light struggled in Water’s grip, the movement silent in the darkness. The dakorian returned a step, just as a rabbit burst from a hole in the boulders and darted away.
The dakorian snorted and departed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she spun to Light and leveled an accusing finger at him. He shrugged apologetically. Lira turned to Jeric, and found him petting a rabbit before the image disappeared into his ring.
He smirked and Lira wondered how many secrets the elf possessed. Then she turned to the door and examined it with interest. Nearly fifteen feet tall and pure white, the barrier was smooth to the touch except for the symbol of a Gate at the center. A ring split by a spike rose from the center, its interior a shade of purple.
She stepped to the side where a small, square panel extended from the door, and passed her hand across it. A glimmer of light appeared before flashing orange and disappearing. She frowned and did so again, with the same result.
“It’s been sealed,” she whispered.
“Why?” Jeric asked.
She shook her head and pulled a small, spiderlike object from a pouch at her side. Placing it on the display, she touched a symbol and the legs of the object pressed into the material, illuminating with dim light.
“Every lock has a key,” she said.
The spider flickered a few colors before going dark and the color changed to blue. In a whisper of air, the door slid to the left, allowing them entry into a short tunnel. Lira felt a sense of foreboding as she crossed the threshold, the lights automatically glowing to life.
The group advanced inside, with Jeric releasing a low whistle at what lay before them. Pristine white walls circled the gigantic chamber, with the ceiling rising to a point that extended into the center pillar of the temple above. A forty-foot arched opening sat in the center, the space beneath like fractured glass, reflecting Light and Water into a myriad of positions and shapes. Illumination came from everywhere and nowhere, as if the very air had been infused with power. The majesty of the space was undeniable, but that was not what drew the eye.
Trash lay strewn about—bits of equipment, scraps of metal, and chunks of the krey building material known as seracrete, all layered in dust. To the side, a curving staircase descended from view, but the barrier that would have blocked it had been ripped open, the metal torn and snapped, ripped from its hinges. More light came from a subterranean level and she heard the gurgle of water. Then she spotted the walls and saw where all the debris had come from, a dozen pockmarked gouges in multiple places, the walls scored and blackened, as if someone from within had been attempting to escape. With a start she realized the truth. Someone had been trapped inside the Gate chamber, and a clatter of sound indicated they were still present . . .
Chapter 14: The Invited
A screech of a moving chair came from below, accompanied by the rushed footsteps of a solitary figure. Lira spun to the gate that had evidently been destroyed from within, the pieces falling into place as she barked an order for her companions to brace themselves.
The Gate Chamber had been used as a prison, and the quantity of rust on the twisted metal of the gates suggested that, at one time, the occupant had been confined to the lower levels of the outpost. The prisoner had probably managed to escape and figured out a way to use the Gate to send the message that had brought Wylyn.
A figure ascended the steps and came to a halt. Tall and thin, he was dressed in a regal cloak and rich tunic, obviously new. His eyes were a dark grey, and glinted with slumbering power—not unlike the fragments. He came to a halt and released a low chuckle.
“Draeken,” he said. “You are not supposed to be here yet.”
Water and Light exchanged confused looks and spoke in unison. “You know us?”
The man’s lip curled into a sneer and sparks ignited on his palms, his clothing flickering transparent and revealing threads of water and earth in his body. Lira instinctively retreated a step as she realized the man was a guardian—a powerful one.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to speak to you,” he said, his voice calm, calculating. “Yet to my surprise you appear.” His eyes flicked to Jeric and he gave a tiny nod, as if he understood why. “Still, I am grateful I will no longer have to hide.”
“Who are you?” Water asked.
The man flashed a dark smile. “I am your creator.”
Light’s eyes were wide and open. “But Guildmaster Elsin created us—”
“With my help,” the guardian said.
The glint in his eyes was almost madness, but it was too controlled, too triumphant. Lira swallowed and eased back again, glancing to Water for support. He, too, had gained a measure of doubt, but it was Jeric’s caution and that sent fear into her belly. She’d never seen him worried.
“I was her first attempt to create a guardian with multiple magics,” he said. “But she called me unstable and locked me up here. By the time I escaped, the Verinai had been destroyed, and I sought survivors. I found you.” His lips curled into a sneer. “But another was raising the fragments of Draeken, and I knew you would not trust me. And so I waited until the time I could fulfill my promise to Elsin.”
He began to stalk around them, like a predator that had cornered its prey. “She was my love. And when we discovered the guardian charm, I insisted I be the one to attempt the magic. Such pain it caused . . .”
He passed a hand over his face and Lira cast an air blade. The guardian was dangerous, and she sensed the burning hatred, the desire for revenge. A glance revealed the shock on Water’s face, and she knew he hadn’t known of the creator’s existence.
“Who are you?” Water asked.
“Serak of Verisith,” he said, and flashed a disturbing smile. “Father of guardians.”
Serak’s voice reverberated inside the Gate Chamber, the dark timber seeming to overlap and merge until it elicited a shudder. Lira had faced countless threats in her life, but the guardian Serak inspired terror.
“I think we should depart,” Jeric said, his smile lacking the characteristic amusement.
“We have to destroy the Gate,” Lira said. “Before the dakorians find the door . . .”
All heads turned to the door as a grinding of boulders echoed beyond. “Too late,” Light said, yawning. “I told you we should have waited until morning.”
Serak’s gaze was fixed on the door, and he seemed to be ignoring them. As he advanced toward the exit, Water stepped to Lira and pointed to their feet, lowering his voice to a murmur.
“I can sense a well beneath the citadel,” he said. “It connects to an underground reservoir. If I can undermine the floor . . .”
“It will bring the entire structure down,” Jeric finished. “I like it.”
“Don’t forget we’re inside,” Lira said.
“Light,” Water said, but he’d fallen asleep again. Water reached over and slapped him, hard. As he sputtered awake Water stabbed a finger at the floor. “Come with me. You need to find us a way out. I’m going to bring the building down.”
“We’ll hold them off,” Jeric said.
As Serak came to a halt before the door, Water and Light slipped behind him and descended the stairs. When they were gone Jeric reached to the strap across his chest and withdrew the two hilts. With a snap of his wrist, water flowed out and shaped into aquaglass swords. Lira hardened her air blade.
“He’s unpredictable,” he said, tilting his chin toward Ser
ak. “I don’t like it.”
Lira snorted a laugh. “Really? You don’t like unpredictability?”
“Not in others,” Jeric said.
They retreated behind the guardian just as the floor trembled, followed by a muffled crash. Then the door slid open and dakorians flooded the chamber. Serak watched them enter, seemingly unperturbed by the outlanders’ appearance.
Wylyn stepped into view and regarded the father of guardians. “You must be Serak.”
“I see you received my invitation,” he said.
Lira felt a chill as Wylyn smiled. “I did indeed. You have my gratitude.”
Then Wylyn caught sight of Jeric and Lira and smirked. She motioned to Tardoq and the dakorians split up, several drifting around Serak and advancing on the pair. Others moved to the Gate, and Lira scowled, retreating a step.
“Kill them,” Wylyn said.
“Not yet,” Serak said.
Wylyn scowled at the order, but Serak turned and raised his hands. Lira dived away—but her body froze. Her limbs refused to move and of its own accord, her body turned to face Serak. She cast strength and tried to break free, but her entire body was bound in place. Then her feet slid forward, scrapping the floor as she fought the movement. In her peripheral vision she spotted Jeric similarly bound, also sliding towards Serak and his disturbing grey eyes.
A current of water poured through the open door and shaped into a spike pointed at Lira’s heart, the water turning to glittering aquaglass. Another spike pointed at Jeric. Inch by inch Lira felt her body come closer to the spike, and knew Serak meant to impale them both.
“I feel the water in your blood,” Serak said, his voice deathly calm. “And it now belongs to me.”
Her fear mounting, her anger exploding, Lira fought with every ounce of will but her body refused to respond. The shard of aquaglass came closer and closer, and Wylyn folded her arms, her gaze filled with anticipation as she watched the Lira slide closer to the spike. She motioned to the dakorians and they moved away from Lira and stepped to the Gate, obviously intent on repairing it.