The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1) (29 page)

Later, my spirit much restored by cleanliness and dry clothes, I tramped the woodland with the others.  The trip back seemed shorter.  I was buoyed by having achieved something by design, not mere chance.  And with this world behind me, my battle for Phillippe would be much easier.  With Amberyn’s supporters added in, and whatever aid Ty’hrall was bringing—the time of my return to the Necropolis was rushing closer.

But one thing in particular worried me; the game was still playing out.  That meant the Gamesman could see on any game board all I accomplished.  Being forewarned, he would be forearmed.  We would have to compensate with guile, deception, and better strategy—things the Gamesman could not see. 

We reached the village.  D’elia took charge of the White Rose leathers I had rinsed and bundled.  She promised they would soon be fit to wear, and left me at the square under the approving glower of the stone wolf.

The smith approached, looking none the worse for his labors through the night.  I could not say as much for Amberyn.  His eyes threatened to close every few minutes and frequent yawns escaped him.  Yet his self-satisfied smugness endured, impenetrable to fatigue.

The smith held an object wrapped in bright blue silk, the color of a cloudless summer sky.  This gift had to be the mask, but reforged in one night?  Magic must
have been involved.  I was curious to see how the silver had been recast.  Into a kinder, gentler wolf … an owl… a woodpecker or swan for all I knew.  Whatever, I would demonstrate proper appreciation.

The silk came away in a brave flutter and my breath caught in my throat.  No beast confronted me, but a perfect copy of my own face.  The smith’s eye for detail was a marvel.  He had perfectly captured my likeness, reproducing it from memory.  Edged with moonstones, the silver face held a mysterious half-smile, hinting at secrets about to be revealed—or maybe not.  Its beauty dazzled.

“It is … incredible!”  My voice was thick with awe.  I reached out, but hesitated to take up the precious treasure.  Instead, I tested it with my fingers, afraid its beauty was illusion.

“Go ahead,” Amberyn urged.  “Try it on.  You know you want to.”

Showing the wolf spirit within him, the smith bared teeth in a fierce, pleased display as I claimed the mask.  Reverently, I drew it near and set the silver shell over my features where it remained without bindings.  It felt cold against my skin.  And clean, with no sign that it had ever turned against a wearer.

I presented my continence to Amberyn.

He hesitated to offer an opinion.

“Well?” I said.

He appeared to search for words, then spoke, “It makes your beauty eternal and unattainable.  There is a cool distance in the expression and something vulnerable as well.  It makes a mystery of you, fanning desire all-the-more.”  He shrugged.  “What can I say?  It is …
you.
”

I was moved by his words.  “Well enough.”

I removed the mask, held out my hand for the silk cloth, and used it to wrap the mask once more.

“When can we expect the unicorn to return?”  I thought of leaving the next day with all who would come, but not without Ty’hrall.  He had worked hard for the day that was almost at hand.

“It depends on the number of mares he has to satisfy,” Amberyn said.

I stared at him.  “That is what was so important?  He left us to rut?  Humpf!  Typical male!”

“You recruit your way, White Rose, he recruits his.”

“Then these mares—” My mind leaped to possibilities.  “Are they unicorns as well?”

Amberyn stifled a yawn.  “No, but something just as good—firemares from the Burning World.”

The smith’s eyes widened.  “Really?  I have heard old legends, but I never thought to see such creatures.”

It seemed I was always running to catch up with everyone else.  “Someone tell me what a firemare is,” I demanded, “and a Burning World while you are at it.”

The sentry at the gate cried a warning; there was trouble outside! 

The smith bolted for his forge.  I assumed that he went for a weapon, a sword or hammer. 

My pounding heart swept weariness aside as I ran toward the main gate. 

Amberyn matched me stride for stride, but made it seem effortless despite his long-night vigil.

At the gate, a clump of warriors blocked my view outside.  I did not hesitate to worm through, dragging Amberyn along.

On the path to the frozen stream, well away from our defensive wall, ignited vapors swirled around a pale yellow core of light that was nearly too bright for a constant gaze—like an open door to hell.

A flutter of wings heralded D’elia’s arrival next to me as she dropped from the sky, taking human form.  The warriors behind us were jostled and, a moment later, Faang appeared on my right, edging Amberyn off to the side.

“Be calm,” the elf said.  “It is only Ty’hrall.”

“Ty’hrall?” Faang rumbled.  “What is a Ty’hrall?”

“Unicorn,” I answered.

D’elia lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the conflagration.  “Arriving on burning winds?”

“His horn has ripped the walls of time and space,” Amberyn announced.  “He comes from the Burning World with allies.”

A dazzle of white-gold appeared in the blaze as a horned head thrust through.  The rest of the unicorn swiftly followed, shedding ribbons of fire that hissed into the snow, turning it into veils of steam above scorched earth.

Unharmed, a smug expression on his face, Ty’hrall approached, only to stop short.

I knew why.  His nearness heated and shimmered the air, drawing sweat from my face.  It would be a while before he cooled enough to be touched.  It was no wonder Ty’hrall went this quest alone.  The Burning World would have incinerated anything living that was not native, anything but a creature of pure magic.

There was more movement from the furious golden swirl.  Orange-red beasts burst out of the rip, breaking from the vortex.  Their eyes were gold stars, the color matching the stockings of their feet.  Manes and tails were actual fire that emerged from their bodies and fluttered briskly.

Twenty of the firemares came through.  As the last one cleared, the vortex lost strength and shriveled, consuming itself. 

The mares stared about curiously, staying on the hard-packed, rocky soil that lay bared and soggy due to the sudden melt-off.  A few of the horses went to drink from the frozen stream, their presence liquefied the ice in a patch near the bank.

We were going to have to be careful.  The well-meaning creatures could fire the forest or settlement without any ill-intent.  We dared not let them get too near the walls.  Fortunately, they seemed intelligent enough to know the damage they could inflict so easily.

Smiling warmly, Amberyn berated the unicorn.  “About time you got done.  Only twenty?  So much for your legendary stamina.”

“Don’t listen to him.” I said.  “You have brought a fine contribution to our forces, but how are they likely to handle the Bridge-Between-Worlds?  The endless nothing around it can be daunting.”  It scared me almost as much as the thought of failing my son—which I would not do.  With allies like these, I would sweep away all resistance and save Phillippe.

They will be fine,
Ty’hrall said.  His thought acquired a humorous tinge,
So will you.  Just close your eyes and a mare will carry you swiftly past the abyss.

I was astounded.  “You want me to ride one of those?  Such a mount would burn the flesh from my bones!”

Amberyn looked at me with equal amazement.  “You can hear his thoughts?  He almost never shares them with
me
.”

I grinned at him.  “I am prettier than you, elf.” 

The warriors behind me muttered heartfelt confirmation, pleased that this was so. 

I felt myself blush.

The smith pushed through to get a better look at the firemares.  He stopped next to me and offered a comment.  “You can ride all right.  The mask will protect you.  The strongest of all my spells were hammered into it.  Take care not to lose it before dismounting, and all should be well.”

Wanting to put the mask to the test, I unwrapped and set it against my face.  “With such protection, I should go and introduce myself to our guests and welcome them here.”

Ty’hrall studied the reworked metal, then bobbed his head. 
You are going to scare small children with that.
  He snickered.

“Wretched beast!” I let my voice warm with a pretense of irritation.  “I defended you, and that is the gratitude I get?”

I patted the unicorn, coming abreast him.  My hand detected no searing heat.  I hoped this remained true as far as the firemares were concerned.  If I could indeed ride one of them into battle, I could let Amberyn have the unicorn back.  Truth was I did feel guilty about coming between the two of them.

Ty’hrall and I crossed over to the mares.  They nickered a greeting, and rubbed up against the unicorn as if he were the only source of all possible joy.  I reached out to one of them, offering my hand as you would to a strange dog to be smelled.  The mare accepted my nearness, letting me stroke a fiery mane.  I was glad to touch them without burning my fingers away.
              The unicorn was so packed in movement became difficult.

“You have quite an effect on them,” I said.

You know what they say—once you’ve gone unicorn, all else is foresworn.

“Who says that?”

Well, the mares to start with.  Do you require a list?

“No, that will not be necessary, you rogue.  Tell me, can they touch thoughts as you do?”

Not as easily.  You have to use simple words and concentrate only on the words you use.  They think in a way different from those they call “cold life.”

I did as suggested
.

“Thank you for coming to help me.  I am Celeste.”

Thoughts, like rushing flames, teased my mind, passing rapidly, leaving little sense behind.  I was going to have to be quicker catching their meaning.

They say you are welcome, and they like your smell.
 

The unicorn edged over and sniffed me. 

You have recently bathed in a sulfur pool, but I still smell wolf piss underneath
.  His thoughts ruffled with distaste. 
What were you doing with that kind?  They eat horses, you know!

“They are my friends too.”

Well, there is no accounting for taste, but I insist you keep them away from me.

“Fear not, I will not let anyone eat you, not even with a savory sauce.”

You better not.  Tell them that unicorns are stringy and taste like goblins.  That will certainly discourage them!

“Stay with the mares and keep them out of trouble,” I said.  “It is past time I reassured Azrael that all is well.”

The unicorn snorted. 
Now who has rutting on the brain?

I ignored the comment, retreating toward the village at a dignified pace.

What Ty’hrall suggested was not possible.  Angels were not equipped for…  I shook the thought away.  It did not matter.  Love was about so much more than
that,
pleasant as
that
would have been.  It had been a long time since…  I forced my mind into more productive channels.

Still wearing the mask, I gathered stares from the warriors milling in front of the gate.  This was their first direct view of the mask and it seemed to strike some peculiar chord within them.  They grew uncommonly silent, absorbing my advance.  As I reached them, they parted gracefully for such large men.  I passed the gauntlet of their attention, glad that the mask hid the flush that warmed my face.

I was used to the lingering stares of men, but this went beyond that.  Did they even see me as human anymore?  I was astounded that a simple silver mask could spin such alchemy over hearts and minds.  Maybe it was one of those mysteries that men share only with each other.  Whatever, I kept my head lifted high, as though on the way to a coronation.

Amberyn followed a few steps behind as I made my way once more to the Great Hall.  He chattered about the proud spectacle he expected to make, thundering through the Necropolis with all of us in his wake.  “Now that the time is nearly at hand, I must, of course, have my best field armor brought here, along with a force of those most loyal to me.”

“Where have they been up until now?”  I removed my mask and wrapped it again.  “Your people allow a prince to hurl headlong into the dangers we have seen without a personal guard?”

“I do have a few brothers closer to the throne than I am,” Amberyn lengthening his step to draw up beside me.  “My family risks little giving me my head, and such ventures get me out from underfoot.  Believe it or not, I can be an excruciating pain in the ass when I want to be.”

I attempted a look of utter disbelief, thinking he expected such.  “No, really?”

He nodded, “Indeed, it is quite true.  Ah, there is your lover!”

I did not need him to call attention to a solidifying shadow by the village well. 

The air turned to a churning black as the dark angel’s cloak unclenched, depositing him in view.