The Goblin Gate (28 page)

She could have been referring to so many things, Jeriah’s only safe course was to ignore that question entirely. “I shouldn’t have left you there. I was angry, but that’s no excuse.”

“They’ll hang him!” Koryn stood swiftly, abandoning her usual deliberate care, and wobbled as her crippled leg gave way.

Jeriah reached out to steady her, but she clutched the wall and went on. “They’ll try him for treason and hang him. I don’t know how you did it, but do you have any idea—”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Jeriah. “He was drugging the Hierarch. I know—”

“I don’t care who he drugged or what he did! He was the only one—”

“Well, I do care!” Jeriah snapped. “I know you liked Master Lazur, but you have to face the facts. He’s guilty of treason. If they hang him…”

Jeriah fell silent. Master Lazur was guilty, but the thought of sending anyone to the gallows sent cold horror creeping though his belly.

“As it happens,” Koryn said, “I didn’t like him much. But it wouldn’t matter if I’d hated him, you moron, because he was the driving force behind the relocation! With him gone, it will fail. The barbarians will sweep over the whole Realm, and all the blood, all the thousands of deaths to come, will be on your hands, Jeriah Rovan!”

“Look, I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did. I can’t figure out how, but I know you’re behind it. You might even get your precious brother back. I hope you do. I hope his presence consoles you when a barbarian spear goes through your father’s heart, and your sisters are hacked to bloody rags by barbarian knives. I hope his presence consoles you then, because I promise you, nothing else will!”

Was that what she had seen? Jeriah wanted to put his arms around her, but he didn’t dare. He grasped her hand instead. “We’ll stop the barbarians somehow. The threat is clear to everyone now, and we’ll find a way to stop them. I promise.”

He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d slapped his face again, but she only pulled her hand from his.

“You’re a fool.”

She turned and limped away.

“W
HY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME
?” Makenna whispered.

She probably didn’t need to whisper; Tobin was too deep in his feverish sleep to hear.

“Because you need rest too,” said Charba tartly. “You’ll do the lad more good applying your mind to those spell books than holding his hand. You can’t understand more than one word in ten, anyway.”

That was probably true, but…

“You should have called me.”

A shadow of grief slipped over Charba’s sharp features. “Maybe I should. But you need a sharp wit for those spells now, mistress. Because if you don’t get him out of this world, he’s going to die.”

Makenna had lived in dread of those words ever since Tobin had fallen ill, but the cold struck all the way to her soul.

“It’s just a fever. People recover from all kinds of fevers. You said so yourself. If we get enough water into him, keep
his body cooled down, then surely…”

Charba was shaking her head. “This isn’t a normal fever. Far as I can tell, just being in this world is causing it. If we don’t get him out, he’s going to die here.”

Sweat shone on Tobin’s white skin. His face was too thin, and dark circles ringed his eyes. Makenna’s mother was a healer. Young as she’d been when her mother died, Makenna had seen the look of death before.

She straightened her shoulders and summoned her command voice. “How long does he have?”

“Several days,” said Charba. “Maybe a week. Not more.”

“Then I’d best get to it, hadn’t I?”

Makenna left the tent without looking back—it wasn’t good for the goblins to see tears in their leader’s eyes.

Makenna was almost certain she knew how to create a gate, but nothing could be cast without magic. And Master Lazur’s books held not even a hint of how to keep this terrible place from draining their magic away.

Without magic, she couldn’t even do the experiments that might help her figure it out herself.

“You should have called me,” Makenna whispered. “I’d have come.”

“T
HOSE WEREN’T THE COPIES, WANT-WIT
. Even Bookerie ink doesn’t dry that fast. The copies are here.” Cogswhallop ruffled the sheaf of spell notes. “We had to go back after you’d left to get the rest of them, and make those forgeries.”

Jeriah started to reply, but a rumble of chanting distracted him. The priests had begun the gate spell. It was Chardane who’d chosen the deserted farm, at the far edge of the tilled land around the city, and then found a dozen priests willing to cast the spell—now that it was safe for them to do so.

The setting sun of the day after Equinox gilded the ragged outbuildings with golden light. His conversation with Koryn had left him too unsettled to sleep, so Jeriah had gone back to attend the Hierarch. After several hours watching the old man, he’d dozed off himself, in a chair beside the bed. He’d awakened to find sky-blue eyes regarding him brightly.

“Jeriah. Good morning.”

The memory still warmed him—maybe enough to counteract the nightmares that mad night would surely bring. The
Hierarch’s mind hadn’t miraculously healed, but he was better. He even seemed to understand when Jeriah explained that he had to go away for a while.

The Hierarch’s healing mattered; Koryn was wrong about that. But had she also been right?

“Seems a pity,” said Cogswhallop, recalling him to the present, “for that Nevin lad to get the credit for all your work.”

Jeriah suppressed a twinge of envy. “Maybe.” Nevin had also served the Sunlord, not heroically, but with seven years of unfailing patience and respect. “In a way, I think he earned it more than I did.”

Cogswhallop started to reply, but Daroo dashed up to them.

“They’re all ready, Fa.” He beamed at Jeriah, bouncing with excitement.

“We’re almost ready too,” said Chardane, coming up behind them.

“Go fetch the others, lad,” said Cogswhallop, and Daroo raced off again. “Humph. Thinks he’s going on a grand adventure, he does. There’s no guarantee, even with half a dozen Finders, that we’ll be able to reach the gen’ral and the others.”

“I know that.” Jeriah’s heart contracted with grief and fear. Tobin would have been ill for days now.

But the goblin Finders were the best chance they had of reaching him quickly, and Chardane said that even a
hedgewitch should be able to cast the spells that would stop the sickness.

There was nothing Jeriah could do to make any of this happen faster. His part had already been done.

At least Master Zachiros had finally gotten Senna out of the cells, where she’d been frantically worrying…about Jeriah. She claimed his reassuring notes had frightened her more than any threats Master Lazur made. Jeriah had rousted his friend Harell out of bed to escort her, mounted her on Fiddle, and sent her home—before anything else could happen!

The priest in charge of casting the gate had chosen the entrance of a pigpen as its anchor. He’d said it was the largest gate those gathered could make, and covered its weathered wood with glowing runes. Light poured from the priest’s hands as they approached, filling the opening. Beyond the light Jeriah caught a glimpse of something else. He knelt and peered through at the undergrowth and tree trunks of a dense glade. It looked perfectly ordinary, until Jeriah realized he didn’t know the species of any of the trees. A chill crept down his spine.

“Aye, a bold venture. Those going with us have kin they want to join. Since that cursed Decree will soon be revoked, most chose to stay.” Cogswhallop’s gaze turned to Chardane.

She smiled in return, serene in spite of the dark circles beneath her eyes. “It will be revoked as soon as we can
arrange it. Probably this week. Since everything Master Lazur supported is now considered suspect, we shouldn’t have any problems. There’ll be goblin bowls at the back steps any day now.”

“Those staying will be glad of it,” said Cogswhallop. “Some of them will be too busy to forage for a while. Paying their debts, I understand.”

Chardane’s brows lifted curiously, and Jeriah grinned.

“He’s talking about Master Hispontic and the rest of the Bookeries. I gave them permission to copy the palace library, and they’re repaying that favor by searching Lord Brallorscourt’s home till they find the evidence Master Lazur had against my father. When they find those documents, they’ll replace them with a record of the bribes my father paid the tribunal to get Tobin off. That’s illegal too, but everyone already knows about it and half of them have done it themselves. So it won’t matter if Brallorscourt decides to open that envelope.”

Jeriah enjoyed a moment of perfect peace. This, at least, he’d done right.

Then Daroo hurried up, followed by a mob of goblins. There were women and children among them and they all carried packs—several of which made a familiar jingling sound.

The Bookeries’ swift reading of Master Lazur’s spell notes had revealed that many of the experiments that dealt with protecting people in the Otherworld had been based
on the amulets that protected the barbarians from their gods. Unfortunately, the notes didn’t explain
why
the priest thought those amulets were relevant. But Cogswhallop claimed that the bargain was for “as many over fifty” as they could get—and the amulets weren’t helping anyone stored under the chorus steps.

One of the approaching goblins was familiar—Jeriah had seen him in the culvert last night. The small man smiled shyly, and Jeriah smiled back with a pang of loss. But his decision was made.

“Either get in or get out of the way!” Cogswhallop told them. The goblins filed through the shimmering gate and into the world beyond. Jeriah could see them examining the strange trees. One flushed a bird, and jumped as it flew.

“You’d better fetch your pack,” Chardane told him. “They can’t hold it forever.”

“I know.” Jeriah’s eyes stung with unshed tears. “I’m not going.”

“What!” They all stared at him, but it was Daroo who spoke. “But your brother’s there. You’ve got to save him!”

“You can save him as well as I can. Maybe better. Once the sorceress has Master Lazur’s experimental notes, she’ll know more about gates and the Otherworld than anyone.” And because Brallorscourt had left those notes in the vault, the Bookeries were able to copy every page. “There’s nothing I can do in the Otherworld that the rest of you can’t do without me,” Jeriah went on. “And my family needs me here.
I’m the heir until Tobin comes back.”

“That’s pigdung.” Daroo scowled. “What’s your real reason?”

“It’s not entirely pigdung. My father may not need me, but he and my mother would be pretty upset if both their sons vanished into the Otherworld.”

Chardane was frowning too. “Since the palace folk believe you left for the border, your parents wouldn’t know where you were till you came back and told them.”

“I am going to the border,” Jeriah said. “I need to see for myself whether the relocation is as necessary, as urgent, as Master Lazur said.”

“I see.” She didn’t look surprised.

Neither did Cogswhallop. “Seems to me, hero, there’s plenty could attend to that.”

“Yes, but will they? Master Lazur put the relocation
first.
He sacrificed anyone who got in his way, and that was wrong. But it was because he put it first that his plan got as far as it did. It’s not a popular idea, especially now. And if he was right…”

Koryn’s personal tragedy was enough to influence anyone’s judgment; but if she’d told the truth, if the barbarians couldn’t be stopped, then he had to do something about it. The harm you did in this world mattered. Master Lazur had taught Jeriah that. If bringing down the priest put a stop to the relocation, and the relocation really was necessary, then it was up to Jeriah to fix it.

“In a way,” he told Daroo, “it’s a matter of indebtedness. I’m the one who stopped him. If no one takes his place, I’d be the one responsible for all the deaths when the barbarians come. I may not be a hero, but I certainly don’t want that on my conscience!”

“But why do
you
have to do it?” Daroo protested.

“It’s…it’s a matter of priorities. Chardane’s first priority is to put her own people on the council, to reform the laws and correct abuses. Am I right?”

Chardane nodded slowly.

“It may be a long time before the Hierarch can take command. Mistress Koryn would do anything for the relocation—but with Master Lazur gone, there’s nothing she can do. Master Zachiros just wants to keep the Realm running and help the Hierarch recover. And the only thing Lord Brallorscourt cares about is increasing his own power. Which leaves only me.”

Had Master Lazur realized that, as the guards dragged him away? He wasn’t a fool. Jeriah was betting on that. Betting that the priest would go through his trial without ever accusing Jeriah or any member of his family of any crime—so Jeriah would be free to advance the relocation.

Even a nongoblin could understand that kind of debt.

“It seems to me,” said Cogswhallop, “that you’ve no more power than that Bookerie girl of yours.”

“She’s not my girl,” Jeriah said stiffly. “And lack of power hasn’t stopped me yet.” He gestured to the shimmering gate.

“But you can’t not come,” Daroo wailed. “You can’t!”

“Yes, he can,” said Cogswhallop. “And I’m not letting you stay, either.”

“But…”

“That’s final.”

“Humph!” The boy folded his arms, like a miniature version of his father.

Jeriah gave him a commiserating smile and turned to Cogswhallop. “It’s up to you to reach Tobin and make sure that sorceress sends him back. If you have to, you could use the notes to bribe her. Or—”

Cogswhallop snorted. “If he’s in danger, she’ll send him back no matter what I do.”

“Maybe,” said Jeriah. “But I don’t trust her. I’m trusting you.” They’d earned his trust over this last wild week. Enough trust that he was willing to put Tobin’s life in their hands. “Will you do it?”

“Well, that depends on what for, now doesn’t it?”

On the other hand, goblins
were
goblins.

“Fa…”

“Quiet, lad. This is bargaining.”

“You can’t trade for that. Not with the way you’re indebted.” There was a vengeful gleam in Daroo’s eyes.

“I told you to be quiet.”

“Indebted?” asked Jeriah. “How?”

“’Cause you’re the one who put him in command,” said Daroo over his father’s outraged sputter. “With the mistress
gone, none of the others would obey another goblin.”

“They never have,” Cogswhallop growled. “Bookeries don’t obey Finders, Finders won’t obey Greeners, on and on. It’s the curse of our kind. If the fools would accept a leader and unite, we could have driven out your kind, human. Long ago!”

“Fa wanted them to follow him,” Daroo continued. “’Cause he’s got plans. So he bet them you could find a way to open a gate to reach the others. And now you have, so he’s in command—and he’s indebted for it!”

“Blather. That’s an entirely separate matter. No debt owed,” said Cogswhallop.

“No, it’s not. It—”

Cogswhallop started toward his disobedient offspring. “If you don’t get through that gate, I’ll throw you through.”

“But Fa—”

“No buts. Go on.”

“You’d better go,” Jeriah told him. “Thank you, demon brat.”

Daroo glared at all of them. “I’ll come back,” he assured Jeriah. “You’d best take care, and promise not to do anything stupid, because I’m coming back as soon as I can.”

“Tobin made me promise not to be stupid too. What is this? I never…Well, almost never…All right, I promise.” He tried to look sober and reliable, but his lips twitched.

“Humph!” Daroo stalked through the portal.

Even through the laughter, Jeriah’s heart cracked. He
would have given anything to join his friend, to rescue Tobin himself. But his place was here, at least until his debt was paid.

The goblins had taught him something.

Cogswhallop must have read the decision in Jeriah’s face, for he bent and picked up his pack. “So, hero, this is good-bye.”

“Oh no, it’s not. You have to bring my brother back, remember?”

“Well…since you seem to have done me a small favor, even though you didn’t intend it—”

“That’s an entirely separate matter—just as you said! And you owe me for it, goblin. Saving Tobin is part of what you already owe me for getting the Decree reversed…. You’ll save him, won’t you?”

“You have a worse memory than a new-hatched Flichter! Stealing those notes paid for the Decree’s…Oh, all right! I’ll find him and deliver those spells to the gen’ral, and she’ll do her best to save him. But after that I make no promises!”

“That’ll do,” said Jeriah. “Tell Tobin…”

Ever since he’d realized he couldn’t go, Jeriah had been thinking of messages to send to his brother—dozens of them. Now that the time was on him, it was simple.

“Tell Tobin I love him.”

“Aye, I’ll do that.” The goblin shouldered his pack and walked to the portal. “For free.”

Jeriah decided to stop by his home before going on to the border. It only took two days out of the way—and if he was now in charge of the relocation, he’d better stop his mother before she raised any more resistance against it!

Was Koryn right, that the barbarians couldn’t be stopped? That moving the entire Realm to a defensible position was the only way for them to survive? Jeriah prayed with all his heart that she and Master Lazur were wrong—because if they’d been right, Jeriah had no idea what to do next!

He set out from the deserted farm that night. He couldn’t possibly sleep, so he might as well get a start on the journey. By the light of the waxing moon he saw that the crops had grown in the last month. All the trees had leafed out. Summer was upon them.

It was hard to be going home without his brother, after all. Defying his father’s banishment, and with all the bitterness of the flooded village awaiting him. It was so easy to believe you had to sacrifice others to your own cause. Master Lazur would go to his death begging those around him to complete the relocation. Like a knight of legend, selfless and courageous. Jeriah shuddered. It was the priest’s own choice.

Just as Jeriah had chosen to try to save Tobin, and all the choices that followed. Just as Tobin had chosen to save the goblins. Master Lazur had been right about that; even if Tobin died, it wouldn’t be Jeriah’s fault. Any more than the responsibility for Jeriah’s choices and mistakes was Tobin’s.