The Gates of Memory

by Ryan Kirk

  He studied the emperor. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. “Hanns?”

  The emperor waved away Brandt’s attention. “I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.”

  Brandt didn’t argue. Hanns looked pale, but he was also the emperor. Brandt followed his requests as though they were commands. Eventually his ruler composed himself. “Again.”

  Brandt created more orbs, pulling one each from several torches along the wall. They began their dance again, but Hanns never found the rhythm. One of the orbs almost exploded in Brandt’s face. He caught the wild fire and directed it harmlessly around him.

  Hanns had collapsed.

  Brandt stood and rushed to the emperor. Hanns still breathed, but he came back to consciousness slowly. When his eyes met Brandt’s, they were alert and aware.

  “Her attacks grow in strength.”

  Brandt helped Hanns back to sitting, then gave the emperor some distance. “What can we do?”

  “I need to fight her, push her back from trying to influence our gate.”

  “Can you?”

  “There is no choice. She attacks my connection to the gate. If it fails, the empire will fall as well.” Hanns took a deep breath. “Will you aid me? You have fought her once before. Your presence might make a difference.”

  Brandt’s jaw clenched as he thought of his last battle with the queen. “In that same space?”

  The emperor heard the concern in Brandt’s voice. “I’m afraid so, yes.”

  “I’m not sure how much use I can be to you. If not for Alena, I would have given myself to the queen.”

  “You’re still tied to her, are you not?”

  “You can tell?” Brandt hadn’t mentioned it to Hanns.

  “I can. If you wish, I think your connection would allow her to take part in our endeavor as well.”

  Brandt didn’t want to return. The dreamscape he’d last fought the queen in still haunted his memories. That fight took place in a world he didn’t understand. “Is there anyone else who could do it? Wouldn’t Regar be a better choice?”

  The emperor shook his head. “Regar might be stronger, but I can’t risk him becoming entangled with the gate. It needs to be you or no one at all.”

  Brandt closed his eyes and tried to master his fear. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to Alena as well.”

  “Good.” Hanns stood, his feet unsteady. “Tomorrow, then, or the day after. I’ll let you know. I’ll need my rest tonight, and we should put affairs in order in case the worst should befall us.”

  Brandt’s eyes widened at that. He knew the danger he faced, but for some reason it hadn’t occurred to him the emperor would be putting his own life at risk.

  Knowing he would fight next to Hanns gave him strength.

  He hoped it would be enough. Because if they failed, the empire might lose Emperor Anders VI.

  8

  Jace’s sparring match against the rider earned him the goodwill of the border patrol. The riders accompanied them, and Jace amused them all with his rough attempts at communicating in Etari. Most of the riders spoke at least some imperial, though, so the language barrier wasn’t insurmountable.

  If anything, Jace’s entrance into the world of the Etari was smoother than Alena’s. He was a warrior, a profession given more respect in Etari culture than thief, the only profession Alena claimed when she first crossed the border. Every night, while Alena and Ligt prepared the meal, Jace and the riders would spar, both open-handed and with wooden sticks. Jace’s skill earned him respect overnight that Alena had fought for years to obtain.

  He’d worked hard for his skills and she couldn’t begrudge him using those skills to his advantage, even if she occasionally felt a pang of jealousy at the ease with which he inserted himself into the other half of her life.

  When she wasn’t jealous, though, it warmed her heart to see Jace with the Etari. He no longer held them in contempt, and she guessed he’d be disappointed when their path parted from that of the border riders. For most of the last ten years of her life, she’d thought of herself as being torn between two worlds. Watching Jace form new friendships changed her mind. He was a bridge between Landow and Etar, and he reminded her they were all part of one much larger world.

  That night they sat together around a fire, the group watching Jace with bemused expressions as they tested some of his Etari hand signs. As she laughed, Alena felt a tug near the base of her skull.

  She closed her eyes and fell into a soulwalk, the process almost as natural as breathing to her now.

  Brandt.

  Alena took a deep breath and focused her attention. Distance wasn’t completely irrelevant while soulwalking, but it didn’t separate souls the same way it did bodies. She visualized herself running along the thread that connected them. The soulwork at the Etari border slowed her for a moment, but then she was through. She found Brandt and created a space for them to meet.

  As she usually did, she chose her family’s kitchen. It was a room she knew well, one she could summon with little effort. And it brought her comfort. Brandt appeared within the kitchen, standing. He looked around, gaining his bearings.

  “It always smells like bread here.”

  Alena smiled at the comment. “It’s not intentional, but my mother grew up in a family of bakers. She bakes fresh bread several times a week, and I guess the smell must be ingrained in my memories.”

  Brandt’s eyes became unfocused and Alena felt a ripple pass through her illusion. Brandt remembered something, the memory threatening the safe space she’d created. Fortunately, a small effort on her part dispelled Brandt’s interference. In a fight, he could beat her a dozen ways before she could blink. But here, the power was hers.

  “Sorry,” Brandt said. “I was thinking of our fight with the queen. Was there a smell then?”

  “Not one that I remember.”

  “Me neither.” He paused, lost in thought. Then he sat down and explained why he had called for her. Alena listened, then sat in silence as she considered Brandt’s request for aid.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Soon. Tomorrow or the day after.”

  The timing worked out well enough. Ligt said it would take them another four days of travel to reach Sooni. Alena realized she hadn’t spoken to Brandt about her own movement and the problems with the Etari gate, and did so then.

  “It can’t be a coincidence,” Brandt said.

  Alena nodded.

  “I’m glad your brother is with you. He’s a good man.”

  “Thanks. How’s Ana?”

  “We’re trying to start a family.”

  It took a heartbeat for the words to register, then the fire in the kitchen suddenly bloomed brighter. Alena blushed. If she didn’t keep her emotions controlled they were reflected in the space in small ways. “Congratulations! That’s great news.”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course it is. You two are wonderful together, and think of how strong your child will be.”

  “Thanks. I wish I shared your confidence.” Brandt gestured around the room, taking everything in. “I ask myself all the time—with everything happening now, is bringing a child into this world wise? Look at me. I’m terrified of facing the queen again, even with you and Hanns supporting me. I know I might not return. How can I ask a child to endure that? How can I ask Ana to bear that burden?”

  Alena reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Don’t you think Ana knows all this?”

  Brandt admitted she did.

  “Then trust her. If she’s willing, and you’re willing, you two will find the path. I’m certain of it.”

  Brandt breathed out slowly. “Thank you.” Then he changed the subject. “Will you help us?”

  “There isn’t much choice, is there? You believe Hanns needs the connection to the gate?”

  Brandt nodded.

  “Then we need to protect it.”

  Brandt looked around the room, as though worried someone might be eavesdropping on them
. “I don’t want to go back. Not after last time.”

  Alena tried to ignore her own memories of their last encounter. “Neither do I.”

  They sat in silence together for a few moments. Then Brandt squeezed her hand. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  When Alena was certain that Brandt had said all he needed, she banished the illusion and returned to her own body.

  The scene around the campfire had become very quiet. Alena opened her eyes to see everyone staring at her. The Etari, in particular, looked as though they were close to drawing their weapons.

  In the intervening years Alena had forgotten how much the Etari despised soulwalkers. It hadn’t occurred to her to hide her actions from them out of respect for their beliefs.

  At the same time, her ability to soulwalk was the very reason they had summoned her.

  I’m fine, she gestured.

  The Etari didn’t look convinced, but they let her be. Jace offered to spar all comers again, even though he looked exhausted from his long day on the road. The riders eagerly took him up on his offer.

  The tension around the fire dissipated. After a few rounds, Jace called the sparring to a halt and everyone gathered closer to the fire. Jace sat down next to Alena.

  “You look horrible,” she said. He had new bruises on his face and welts on his arm where he’d been hit with a stick.

  “They’re tough fighters,” he admitted. “Where were you?”

  “With Brandt.” Alena told Jace everything, including her decision to fight again against the Lolani queen. As she spoke, the Etari quieted their conversation to pay closer attention to hers. She addressed them all. “We may need to stop for a bit to allow me to fight, either tomorrow or the day after.”

  Ligt signed an affirmative gesture, which was about all Alena expected. The riders spoke quietly among themselves and then announced they would be leaving the party in the morning. They gave no reason, but Alena guessed easily enough.

  Jace had been a fun distraction, but they didn’t want to be anywhere near a soulwalker as she fought. Alena wished them well. Their presence meant little this far into Etar. At the moment, there were probably few places safer in the world.

  She would miss the company, though. And the look on Jace’s face was almost enough to ask them to stay.

  Early the next morning she took Jace away from the camp. The riders were packing up and Jace was eager to see them off, but Alena wanted to ensure one last task was taken care of before she was summoned by Brandt.

  When they were well away from the camp, she sat down. Jace followed suit. Hidden in the tall grasses of the prairie, they might as well have been alone in the world. Which was exactly the feeling she was searching for.

  Jace followed her without question, though she saw the curiosity in his eyes, and the worry he would miss the riders’ departure. Once they were settled, she spoke. “I’m nervous about what Brandt has asked of me. The queen frightens me, and I don’t fully understand her powers. The place that I’m going—” She hesitated, not quite sure how to say what she meant. “Where I’m going, I want an anchor. Something that I’m tied tightly to.”

  “I’ll do it,” Jace said, preempting her question.

  “It means wrapping threads tightly around both of us. In some ways, it might feel like compulsion. Do you understand?”

  Somehow her brother’s eyes managed to be both hard and welcoming at the same time. “I do.”

  “And you’ll still do it?”

  His stare was answer enough.

  She exhaled deeply. “Thank you.”

  Alena hadn’t been certain how he would respond. She’d compelled him once before, and that deed hung over their relationship like a dark cloud. To willingly submit to it again spoke volumes about his trust in her.

  Trust she wasn’t sure she deserved.

  She closed her eyes. The web of life appeared around her, the thread connecting her to Jace brighter than the rest. As she had with Brandt the night before, she followed the thread until they were together.

  In her studies, Alena had discovered that most people possessed some deep-seated and natural defense against soulwalking. It wasn’t enough to deter a trained soulwalker, but some part of the human spirit rejected the interference of others. Souls wanted to be free.

  She knew Jace possessed the same innate defense, but she didn’t encounter it today. He left himself completely vulnerable.

  She swore to herself she would never abuse that trust. Never again.

  Jace appeared before her, but it wasn’t him in the same way it had been Brandt earlier. This was her representation of him, her own mental model. As she willed it, strings appeared in her hand.

  Like most of her training, Alena didn’t quite understand how her techniques worked. This was no different. She wanted to strengthen the bond between them, to have something to hold onto when they faced the queen. But she didn’t know exactly how to achieve that.

  So she followed her instincts. She took the string in her hand and tied one piece to his right wrist. Then she tied that string to her own wrist. Another string appeared in her hand and she repeated the process with the other wrist, then again with each ankle.

  With every connection, she felt her brother more clearly. Some of his emotions bled into her. He was calm. She couldn’t understand how he could remain clearheaded in such difficult times.

  How many connections should she create? Her instinct told her that more connections would secure the two of them more tightly together, but there was a danger. With every string that connected them she could see his thoughts more clearly. If she bound them too tightly she feared they might not remain as individuals.

  Not for the first time, she wished she had a guide to this affinity.

  When she thought she had found a safe balance, she stepped back and viewed her work. The strings lengthened as needed.

  Alena stepped out of the soulwalk. Even with her eyes open she felt her brother, calm and rooted like a tree beside her. “How do you feel?”

  He held up his hand and stared at it. “Fine. But nervous.” He bit his lower lip. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

  “Probably.”

  Jace grunted. “That’s strange. Do you always feel so uncertain?”

  “Not always. Sometimes I’m terrified, too.”

  He laughed.

  “It’s not every day I tie myself to someone like this. But thank you. I can’t believe how calm you are.”

  He gave a small shrug. “It’s nothing. Are we done? I don’t want to miss the others’ departure.”

  They stood and rejoined the Etari and wished the riders well. As Jace said his farewells, Alena paid attention to the emotions running through her. She could feel Jace’s, more subtle than her own. He was sorry to see the riders go.

  Jace’s emotions reminded her of a lesson she’d learned two years ago. She understood the temptation to use soulwalking to fix so many common problems. How strong could a relationship be if each partner were tied together in this way? There would be no guesswork, no lies.

  She couldn’t see it working, though. People needed separation. As soon as she returned from her defense of the gate, she intended to sever these connections.

  The riders broke away, riding hard toward the north. Jace waved farewell, the imperial gesture out of place in the plains of Etar. Then it was just the three of them. Ligt looked to her, seeking guidance.

  She hadn’t heard from Brandt. “We can travel. When the time comes, I will let you know.”

  They packed up their own camp and resumed their journey. Alena steeled herself for the fight to come. The last time, her fight had brought her to the gates of death, a myth made suddenly real.

  She kept sneaking glances at Jace, knowing that he could feel her turbulent emotions. But his face was impassive.

  She would return to her family. She wouldn’t abandon Jace, never again.

  But one thought troubled her.

 
If the queen defeated her and sent her to the gates, would her connection with Jace kill him, too?

  9

  Brandt broke away from Ana’s embrace. As they separated he ran his hand down her arm, stopping to clasp her hand one last time before turning his back on her.

  They both understood danger. Before their marriage, they had fought side by side as wolfblades, among the first warriors the emperor sent into battle. But this felt different. This moment held a finality he didn’t usually experience. He couldn’t imagine not seeing her again.

  Brandt shook his head and forced his eyes forward. Behind him, Ana closed the door to their chambers, leaving Brandt alone in the long hallway.

  Two days had passed since the decision to attack was made. The days had crawled by since, Brandt’s normal routine disrupted by the emperor’s various preparations. He’d done little but dread this moment.

  Now he wished he had squeezed more out of that time.

  He passed through the rows of guards and into the study beyond, where the emperor waited alone.

  The emperor stood up from the chair he’d been reclining in, not wasting a moment. “Ready?”

  “Not at all.”

  Hanns’ smile was grim. “Me neither. Shall we?”

  Brandt nodded.

  He followed the emperor down the secret passage. At times he ran his hands along the walls of the tunnel, still amazed by the craftsmanship.

  So many mysteries.

  And not an answer to be found.

  They reached the gate, glowing with unworldly energies. The two men stood in silence, pausing before the task. The emperor broke the silence. “Alena?”

  “She will join us.”

  “Summon her.”

  Brandt closed his eyes. He didn’t understand mental affinities, and a part of him remained surprised every time they worked for him. He imagined standing on a cliff overlooking an expansive valley. In his imagination he cupped his hands to his mouth. “Alena!”

  His voice echoed in his imagination, so loud he almost clapped his hands over his ears.

  The power of the gate, he supposed. This close, everything was stronger.