Keystone (Gatewalkers) (2 page)

“He’s alive!” she shrieked, all else washed away in her childish joy. Around her, the adults exchanged grim, knowing looks.

Hands tentatively tried to draw her away from William but she shook them off.

“He’s alive!” she cried, still not understanding. “Go fetch the Healers!”

No one moved.

Mae shrieked. She railed. She insulted everyone within sight who refused to lift a finger for the brother that lay dying before her eyes.

“Maelyn.” Her father’s voice cut across the courtyard, silencing her. High King Aneirin did not shout. He did not need to.

Mae looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, her hands streaked with her brother’s blood.

“Cease this foolishness,” High King Aneirin said coldly. “Your brother is dead.”

She obeyed. Like a good princess. Like a good daughter. She quieted. She let them lead her away and lock her in her rooms. She curled up in her bed and wept. She had not understood.

Vampires had attacked William and the High Queen on the road. On the very same interrupted border tour that Maelyn had attempted. Only they had disappeared mere days from the palace, the journey barely begun.

It took the searchers two days to find William. Her mother had been more fortunate. She was dead when they found her.

The bite of a vampire changed the victim into one of their own. If the victim survived. A powerful healer could remove the infection from the blood if it were caught quickly. Once the first day passed, no hope remained. On the second day, the victim began the transformation into a slavering beast that thirsted for blood for the rest of its days.
 

William must have been changing even as he lay before her. It was likely the only reason he still breathed when the search found him.
 

Maelyn wondered even now if someone simply drove a silver dagger through his heart in the courtyard, or if they honored his bloodline enough to take William inside to do it. She knew her father had performed the deed. High King Aneirin would not have left such a task to someone else.
 

With her thoughts of William, a strange calm settled over Maelyn. Whatever this monster wanted, he would not get it from her.

Maelyn could not tear her eyes from the vampire’s mouth fastened on the wood elf’s wrist. His lips came away red rimmed. A gaping chunk had been taken from the girl’s forearm.

The girl stumbled backward, life returning to her eyes. She clutched her bloody wrist, whimpering. Maelyn felt the empty eyes of the mask chilling her skin, but did not look at him. Instead she watched Karunda drag the girl away.

Silence settled over the room.

“Not hungry anymore?” the masked monster said. “Then shall we settle to business?”
 

Maelyn nearly moved to cross her arms defensively but stopped herself, returning her hands to resting flat on the table. “Yes. Let us.”

The Blood Prince reached for a silver casket sitting on the table. Sliding a small key from his sleeve, he unlocked it and opened the lid. Resting inside on a black velvet cushion sat a perfectly round, perfectly smooth, palm sized stone, ringed with iridescent colors.

Maelyn fought to keep her alarmed shock of recognition from showing on her face, but she could not keep her heart from racing. She knew exactly what he wanted of her. She was not to be a hostage. She was to be a tool.

The vampire smiled, as if he could sense her thoughts. Maelyn lifted her chin slightly and painted boredom across her features.

The Blood Prince reached out and gently set the casket in the center of the table. His hands drifted possessively over its shape. “I am sure there is no need to explain what this is,” he said softly.

The Keystone.
 

How this monster had managed to steal it from its vault deep under the palace, Maelyn could not begin to imagine.

Using the Keystone was the only true magic Maelyn had ever been able to accomplish. She had used it once. Only once, under her father’s supervision. Not because he expected her ever to make use of it, but to ensure that the knowledge would be passed on to her sons, when she had them.
If
she had them.

“You want me to open a Great Gate,” Maelyn said, numbness creeping over her once again. The vampire inclined his head. Maelyn opened her mouth to refuse. He could not force her. He could not do it without her.

The Blood Prince held up a hand, and her voice closed off. “Before you answer, there is one thing I would like you to consider.” He waved toward the door. “The Keystone is not the only thing we borrowed from the palace.”

Maelyn steeled herself. She had to harden her heart. She had to stand firm. She
could
not open a Gate into another helpless world.

The door opened. Another young elven woman stood in the doorway, her hands clasped together, back straight, head held high though it was bare of its usual circlet, her lips pressed tight to keep from trembling. She wore a ruffled white nightgown, her dark blue curls loose to her knees instead of gathered into elaborate knots. Her pale gray eyes grew wide with recognition at the sight of Maelyn.
 

“Isil!” Maelyn gasped, jolting out of her chair. Edouard's wife. Barely seventeen years of age, a year younger than Edouard.

“Maelyn!” Isil cried, her voice breaking. Forgetting the dignity expected of the High Queen, Isil flung herself into her sister-in-law’s arms, sobbing. “Oh, Maelyn,” she moaned. Isil weighed little more than a young child, and she trembled like the heartbeat of a bird.

Maelyn’s eyes slowly lifted from the sobbing girl to the vampire, sitting serenely at the table.

He had kidnapped the High Queen and Crown Princess. He had somehow stolen the Keystone. For all she could know, Edouard was dead. If that was so, Maelyn was the last remaining blood descendant of High King Gwalchmai.

The only person who could use the Keystone.

“It did not suit my purposes to see your brother dead,” the Blood Prince said. The “yet” hung unspoken. “However, I thought it prudent to acquire… insurance.”

Maelyn looked down again at the top of Isil’s head. Maelyn’s eyes slid unwillingly to the Keystone resting on the table. Simply looking at it, Maelyn felt the unfamiliar warmth of magic awakening within her. Power. The Keystone held immense reservoirs of power. But there was only one spell Maelyn could use.

“Your answer, Princess Maelyn?” the vampire prodded.

Maelyn gently disentangled Isil and eased the girl into the chair. Isil looked up at her, her eyes red tinged from crying. Maelyn barely bit back words of admonishment; she was High Queen. She should never forget it. But she was also a frightened girl, so Maelyn swallowed the words.
 

Maelyn straightened, her gaze returning to the Keystone. If she opened a Gate, she could grab Isil and be through in the space of a heartbeat.
 

So could the vampire.

Maelyn blocked William’s face from her mind.

Maelyn reached out and lifted the Keystone from the casket. Light kindled at its heart, answering her touch. Warmth flowed down her arms, and with it came strength. She could tear apart the fabric of the world if she wished to. It frightened her.

With one arm Maelyn swept the remaining food off the table onto the floor. She set the Stone on the table, but even when her fingers left its surface she felt the phantom warmth of power.

“Which Gate do you want opened?” Maelyn said, her voice perfectly steady.

Isil gasped. “Maelyn, you mustn’t!”

Maelyn gestured for her to be silent, her eyes never parting from the vampire.

The Blood Prince tilted his head slightly, measuring. “Any that you please,” he said.

Maelyn nodded shortly. She turned to the blue skinned Karunda lingering in the doorway and held out her hand. “I need a sword.”

Scowling, the creature looked to its master.

Maelyn let out a hissing breath. “I have only done this once. I dare not deviate from what my father taught me.”

The vampire inclined his head, and the Karunda grudgingly drew a slim silver blade from its sheath. He handed it to Maelyn, grip first.

She hefted it to get a feel for its weight and balance. It seemed well made. She could only hope it was strong enough. Maelyn took a deep breath, centering her focus on the Keystone. It answered.

Maelyn could feel the Great Gates; dozens of worlds just outside the reach of her fingertips. She felt the heat of summer and the icy cold of winter, saw the light of moons and suns. She focused on the white-hot heart of the Keystone.
 

Maelyn tightened her grip on the sword. She could barely sense it still in her hand.
Please let this work
. Maelyn raised it high and brought it slicing down into the heart of the Keystone to destroy it.

She felt the blade meet the Stone. A thundering crack split the air, slamming her backwards. The immense power sealed in the stone roared out, ripping through the Gates. Ripping them open.

No!
Maelyn tried to scream. She only meant to
break
the Stone. To keep its power from ever being used again.

Maelyn felt the power wildly seeking outlets, searching out the weak places between the worlds. She reached out and grasped it. The power flailed against her, seeking to wriggle free of her. Searing her. Tearing through her. Maelyn forced it back into the shattered pieces of the Keystone, frantically trying to seal it away again. It swallowed her in colors and blackness.

CHAPTER ONE

Fairyland

Several Days Later, Worlds Away

The opening of the Gate was like the ripple on a lake when a fish swims close to the surface - a flash of silver motion, then gone. So fast that if someone had been in the deserted alley they would have doubted their eyes. But no one saw it open. No one saw the two fist-sized balls of light emerge, one pink, one turquoise. No one noticed as they hesitated, taking in the strange new world around them.

The pink ball of light darted into the air, to and fro, examining a fire escape, a window planter, and the whiskers of a scruffy alley cat lazing in a tiny patch of sun. She lifted the lid on a dumpster only to drop it quickly, reeling from the smell. A small, tinny laugh emerged from the turquoise ball.

A passing human carelessly flung a cup into the alley, drenching the turquoise light with cold coffee. He buzzed angrily as the pink light pealed with laughter.

The turquoise light vanished, reappearing on the careless human’s foot. She suddenly stumbled flat onto her face, taking a pair of other humans down with her. She tried to get up again, only to find incredulously that her shoelaces had been tied together mid-stride.

Both balls of light broke into their high-pitched laughs, unheard by the oblivious humans. They flitted down the sidewalk, the pink one fluttering to and fro examining faces, the turquoise one periodically vanishing to reappear further along.
 

A sudden gust of hot air from a vent sent the pink light flying into a dizzy spiral. She fought to regain her equilibrium, making small noises of distress, fluttering into the road where the wake of passing cars threw her into a further muddle. Making distressed noises himself, the turquoise light popped in and out, in and out, scrambling to follow her across the road while dodging deadly car tires.

Finally they reached the sidewalk on the other side. The pink light wearily dropped to the concrete, and the turquoise light joined her to make a small purple huddle.
 

“This is a dangerous world,” the pink pixie said to her other half.

He wrapped a comforting tendril of light around her. “All of these humans, walking back and forth without even looking at each other. Not very friendly. Perhaps we should go back through the Gate. There are plenty of heroes in our own world to choose from.”

The pink pixie pulled away from him, rising several inches off the ground to where he could not reach her. “We will find a hero
here
,” she said stubbornly. Here was where the Great Gate led them. Here they would find a hero to rescue Princess Maelyn and save the worlds.

The turquoise pixie gave a gloomy sigh. “Then let us find our hero quickly. What about that one?” He pointed out a young woman sitting at a cafe terrace, quietly sipping her drink while she read a book. She had dark blue hair that fell to her shoulders, matching her knitted vest and fingerless gloves.

The pink pixie examined her closely. The young woman looked sweet and quiet, her face lost in dreamy contemplation. But she never looked up as people passed by, her shoulders hunched against the world’s intrusion.

“Too quiet,” the pink pixie said. “She would not speak up when needed. She looks too far inward.”

The turquoise pixie turned a sour shade of green. “Quiet ones can still be brave.”

“Yes, but Seinne Sonne needs a hero who is more than brave.”

The pink pixie’s interest pricked, catching the tail of conversation between two boys sharing a bench nearby.

“…But I’m thinking if we add another good tank or two to the guild we can take on the Lord of Death in next week’s raid,” one boy said proudly to the other. He looked no more than perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old, with a crooked grin and green hair like a wood elf’s.

The pink pixie’s eyes grew wide. Guild? Raid? This beardless boy planned to do battle with Ard Ri, Lord of Death?
 

The other boy, a gangly youth with a profusion of freckles and ears like a mouse that stuck out from his orange hair, wrinkled his nose. “Maybe. I really want to level my mage first. He’s still barely taking on vampires.”

The green haired boy shrugged. “So train him up today. I’ll party with you.”

The pink pixie darted back over to the turquoise. “Did you hear? This boy is
training
vampire hunters!”

The freckled boy nodded. “All right, so long as we don’t hit the Factory. If I never see the Factory again it’ll be too soon.”

“Bus,” the first boy said, looking over the other boy’s shoulder. At that strange signal, both boys stood and faced down the street.

A big blue city bus slowed to a halt in front of the boys, the folding doors sliding open with a hiss of air. The boys climbed aboard, now chattering about “stats” and “builds” and training grounds.