The Way of the Blade (19 page)

He fluttered his hands in the air. “That was a different time and a different world. If you want to learn about Gate, then you must stop seeing the universe as a unified whole. Instead, each world has its own unique properties, and that means that we can be unique in each one as well.”

“So I should forget you tried to kill me?”

“No.” He laughed. “But you should understand that I’m no longer in that situation, in that world, and therefore, I don’t see you as an adversary. I want to approach you as I wished I had before. As a Gate and as a man who is charmed by you and wants to rule the universe and all its worlds with you.” He raised his index finger. “Shh. Please. You’ve come all this way and we still have more travel ahead. Don’t assume anything. Just wait and see.” He smiled. “Then you can tell me how much you hate me.”

He walked off to check on the talionogs. After brushing them for a bit, he called Malja over. They mounted the animals and took to the air once more.

This time out, the flight scared her far less. In fact, the act of flying itself posed no problems for her as long as she maintained a sturdy grip on her talionog. Only the endless miles of ocean caused her trouble. She kept thinking about how little time they had given her talionog to rest. If it tired too early, they would have no place to land.

Night arrived and with it, a bitter wind. Her do-kha heated up, so only her nose, cheeks, and ears felt the cold. The full moon provided enough light for the talionogs and gave the ocean a solid, glistening appearance. Malja watched it for a long time — it was meditative, even comforting, as long as she didn’t think about drowning.

“Look there,” Harskill said, pointing to the north. The silhouette of a jagged mountain rose in the distance. “That’s the island of Pali.”

“You ever seen the Pali Witch?”

“I’ve never bothered to check out the island. You never know. Most legends like that have some basis in truth. There probably was a woman living there long ago. But if she was, I don’t see how she could be there still.”

The hours drifted by like the ocean below. “How much longer?” Malja asked.

“We’ll be there by dawn. If you’re too tired, concentrate on your do-kha and tell it to lock you to your talionog.”

“Lock me?”

“Picture the legs of your pants wrapping around the animal’s waist.”

Malja did as instructed, and to her surprise, the do-kha obeyed. The leggings stretched over her feet and down the sides of the talionog. When they met, they merged together and tightened around its waist. She leaned against its neck and closed her eyes.

At first, she couldn’t fall asleep. Every rustle, every change in the wind startled her back up. But in time, she trusted her do-kha and the talionog to keep her alive. Each time she closed her eyes, they stayed closed a little longer, until eventually she fell asleep.

Chapter 18

Javery

It had all slipped away so fast. All he had reached for, all he had worked for, every moment of his life had led toward a successful day in which his town would be free from tyranny and he would feel the warmth of their admiring eyes.

All gone now.

Druzane. Canto. Malja.

As he paced his bedroom, his thoughts churned into a dark mass of pain.

No
. He slapped his leg hard. He had to be better than a cuckolded fool. He couldn’t allow self-pity to drown him. If he did that, all of the Carsites would lose.

“Then what?” he whispered.

Action. He needed to take some kind of action. Do something that brought him one step closer to victory. Easily thought, of course. Far more difficult to enact.

Think, Javery, think. You designed the Waypoint system. You can’t let a whore and a politician best you.

“Tommy.” The name burst from his lips and filled him with sharp hope. If he could convince Tommy to help his people, then Tommy could change Malja’s mind. After all, Tommy controlled the magic. Though both Fawbry and Tommy acted as if Malja were the leader, they would hardly qualify as gods without Tommy’s power.

Javery rushed outside and searched for the young man. Fawbry would be flirting with the women, but Tommy seemed to prefer time alone. With a little luck, Javery would find him in the men’s guest room.

He knocked on the door — a timid sound. Javery scowled at his own hand, tightened it into a fist, and pounded on the door. Part of him considered kicking the door hard when Tommy opened it.

“I need to speak with you,” Javery said and barged in.

Tommy appeared to weigh a few thoughts before opting to close the door and sit on the edge of a chair situated against the far wall. Javery could not sit. He paced this room much as he had paced his own. He scratched his head, paused, and looked straight at Tommy.

“You’re the god, aren’t you?”

Tommy’s brow scrunched up.

“You’re the one with magic. Your friends need you if they want to travel through the worlds.” Javery watched for a reaction, and when Tommy remained stoic, Javery figured what he said was true. Otherwise, the young man would have denied it. “You’re also the one who can save my people. If you share your magic with us, if you turn Malja away from her games with Harskill, if you —”

Tommy raised his hand and shook his head.

“I know, I know. You’ve all made it clear that you won’t do anything to help us. Not unless you’re forced to do so. But think about this. When you leave, when you go off on Malja’s crazy desire to face Harskill, you’ll be leaving us to die. This war is happening, and you —”

This time, Tommy waved his hand furiously. He pointed out the window into the sky and on the ground. He pounded his chest.

“If you mean the last battle, then yes, I appreciate all you’ve done to help. But things have changed since then. They’ve become worse. And you, you have such amazing magic. I see now I’ve focused on the wrong one all this time. I suppose that’s why you let Malja think she’s the leader. Keeps the attention off of you. But now, I know. Please, I beg you, please help us.”

Tommy put up his hands as if to say, “What more could I possibly do?”

The answer hit Javery hard. “Give me some magic. It was wrong of me to ask that you bestow your power on all of us. That’s what corrupts the Scarites. But one of us, me, I can handle it. I can wield such a weapon with care. I can insure that it would only serve to keep the peace. I have the intelligence to understand your gifts, and the duty to protect the town. Yes. Give me the magic, and I’ll handle the rest. You won’t have to worry.”

If Tommy had made an emphatic
No
through hand-gestures or had thrown Javery out of the room or done anything strong and violent to end the conversation, Javery wouldn’t have minded. Instead, Tommy shook his head slightly and turned his eyes down with a pitiful expression.

Javery knocked Tommy off the chair and climbed atop him. He held the young man on the floor. He clutched Tommy’s chin. “More and more betrayals. You’re all the same. No. You’re worse. You truly have it within you to fix everything. I know you do. You must. But you hold back. Why? Are our lives just a game to the gods?”

Tommy did not resist. He held still and stared off into the distance.

With a disgusted grunt, Javery stood. “I ... I wish you people never came to us.” He pointed a shaking finger at Tommy but couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

He barreled down the hall and back outside. These betrayals had to be made known. With war coming, the fate of the town rested in making the right decisions. How could he or Shual do right when his entire understanding of these people was misinformed — Canto and Malja, particularly?

He hated the idea, but he would have to do something he loathed. He would have to speak with Shual. Javery climbed into his autofly and headed to the family home.

Chapter 19

Malja

When she woke, the morning sun shone amber in her eyes. She squinted and stretched until she remembered that she sat on the back of a talionog flying over the ocean. Her arms wrenched back to grip the creature’s back, her heart pounding.

“You’re up. Good,” Harskill said, his talionog flapping its wings a few feet to Malja’s right. “I didn’t relish the idea of trying to wake you.”

She had definitely awoken. Breathing the cold air deeply, she settled back. Aches in her neck and along her spine complained as she moved, but her do-kha quickly soothed the pains with targeted heat. She readjusted her hold of the talionog’s neck and once she felt secure, her do-kha’s leggings retracted into a normal pant-leg length. “How much further?”

“Minutes.”

As if that word had been a signal, both talionogs dipped forward. They descended in a smooth glide, and when a cloud passed across the sun, Malja saw the Scarite island not far ahead. They dropped faster, and she picked out the wide swath of filth that marked the Scarite city.

An odor of refuse and human waste rose from the multi-story buildings. Clumped together with no apparent plan to their construction, each building appeared to be a scavenged mess at the bottom and a well-built structure at the top. Thick smoke drifted up from between the buildings, choking them in a sooty fog.

Malja’s talionog followed Harskill’s as they passed over the city. Harskill pointed out different features as he spoke.

“That building is jammed with people, half-starved, half-sick, with no place to go. The building over there with the walkway connected to the gray building — they threatened to blow the walkway apart in order to protect their one floor. Your sweet, innocent farmers have caused all this.”

“How?”

“Generations ago, the Carsites and Scarites shared the same country. But the Carsites discovered the magic source they call the Great Well, and their leaders at the time thought they shouldn’t share it. So, they invaded the Scarite territory and sent them to this island. Look at it carefully. Scorched lands, poor soil, few animals. Not much to try to live off. In fact, most of their food comes from the Carsite farms — when they’re talking with each other.”

Malja peered into the distance. It looked much as Harskill described.

“By the time I arrived here,” he said, “the Scarites had suffered through seven food cut-offs and were in the middle of their eighth. They were close to losing all sense of morality and self. I even witnessed a few devolve into cannibalism. So, I gave them magic of their own, and with it, they found a way to fight back.”

“Why are the building’s only half-complete and always from the top down?”

“I’ll explain over lunch. If you’re willing to stay for a little bit.”

Malja nodded slightly, and though he tried to hide it, she saw the satisfied grin on his lips. Their talionogs banked right and took them over a high fence. On the other side, Malja saw acres of green grass and a massive, luxurious home. Nestled in the midst of several rolling hills, the home boasted five stories of stone with balconies and windows — it reminded her of the Assembly Hall. The talionogs landed and Malja dismounted.

“Is this your home?” she asked.

“Of course. You don’t think I’d live in that foul city, do you?”

Malja had never stepped inside such an immaculate building before — at least, not one that was intact. White marble floors, cavernous ceilings, and gold trim on everything. Their footsteps echoed as they entered the dining hall. Though the room looked large enough to seat fifty people, an intimate table had been set for the two of them, and a sumptuous feast prepared.

“Please, sit,” Harskill said, pulling out a chair for her. “I know this must seem odd, all this luxury, but when you are a god in most worlds, you get accustomed to it. And why shouldn’t we? We
are
gods. All Gate should be seen as gods. We bear the weight of grave responsibilities, so should we not also enjoy a few privileges as well?”

“You always seem to have an answer before I even raise an objection.”

“Debating a point is no different than fighting a battle. The warrior who has trained more and prepared ahead of time always has the advantage.” He loaded her plate with meats and vegetables she had never seen before. “It’s all quite flavorful.”

She bit into the meat — juicy and tender, and as promised, quite flavorful. Much tastier than the gamy meats she hunted on Corlin. “You said you’d explain the buildings to me. Why are they built from the top down?”

“They aren’t. The first wave of refugees that survived here moved higher up in the buildings as each wave followed. Over the decades, they kept pushing higher and higher, and since they are always years ahead in being established here, they always have the financial advantages.”

“So those living up top are rich?”

“And the poor grovel down below.”

“But you brought magic into this and built an army. Why don’t the poor join your —”

“They do. The snake-magic doesn’t take for everyone. It’s a life-threatening risk to become one of the army’s magicians. Survive and you’re set for life. I take excellent care of my men. But since it is a big risk, many choose not to join. They pray to Scarite and cradle their hungry stomachs. In fact, my army is not nearly as large as I’d prefer it to be.”