The Way of the Soul (24 page)

Anguished screams from behind caught Reon’s attention. A giant gorgut had been cut down at the knees. It rolled on its back, grasping the stubs of its legs while a Gate with long, red hair stood over its head. Her do-kha radiated and glowed as it turned deep red like metal in a forge. Then she simply draped herself across the gorgut’s face. Though Reon turned away, she could smell the cooking skin and hear the pitiful shrieks.

“I know what you see here looks barbaric. But understand that most every world we visit will require this type of inspiration. Let me prove it to you.” Lord Harskill inhaled deeply and yelled loud enough to be heard over all the commotion. Reon thought perhaps his do-kha had amplified his voice. “Cease!”

All Gate stopped their violence. They walked to the edge of the gorge and stood shoulder to shoulder — calm and relaxed.

Lord Harskill pivoted so that he could see both Malja and his army. “To those of you still alive, line up behind your masters. Join us as we take the Library. Join us because we are your new gods.”

The army of gang members and soldiers, creatures of intelligence and of instinct, all rushed forward in a stampede eager to please.

Lord Harskill grinned as he cocked his head towards Malja. “You see? With a few horrendous acts, we now have obedience and peace. Once we have control of the Library, this entire world will be at rest, peace, and joy. Life for them will be near perfect.”

Malja did not bend to her knee. If anything, she looked taller, bolder. “And you want to be their ruler.”

“I
am
their ruler. You can join me.”

Even from a distance, Malja’s expression could not be mistaken. Reon had seen icy glares before, many of them from her mother, but this one — a shudder crept down her back. Had she been the one on the bridge, Reon had no doubt that she would have taken Lord Harskill’s offer. At the least, she would have paused to consider it. But not Malja.

She showed no interest, no hesitation. Even if Lord Harskill’s predictions of the coming battle were true — and Reon thought they were — Malja refused to bend to his will. Reon admired that depth of conviction.

“I am sorry,” Lord Harskill said. “There is no more time. Prepare your men. We are coming.”

Malja sprinted forward looking as if she wanted to tackle Lord Harskill. Her braided hair slapped her back and she huffed like a charging herd of toryacks. Reon had time to think that rather than be Lord Harskill’s Queen, Malja had opted for suicide. As if to confirm this thought, Malja hurdled over the flimsy railing, throwing herself into the dark chasm below.

Shock jolted through Reon. She could not believe that Malja would give up so easily — especially after mounting her desperate defense. Bell Wake appeared to share the same thoughts, but she had come to a better conclusion.

Thrusting Fawbry forward, she pointed at Reon and said, “Get him out of here. She’s coming for him.”

With a loud crack, a portal opened in the sky above. Malja soared down. Her special curved weapon held beneath her. Her grim mouth both determined and frightening. She landed on the back of a colack, and her blade cut right through. The beast screeched as Malja slid off its side, planted her feet firmly on the ground, and ripped her weapon free.

With an impatient sneer, Bell Wake grabbed Fawbry’s collar in one hand and the waist of his pants in the other. She tossed him onto the back of a konapol. “Reon, you stupid slog, get moving.”

As Malja fought off two brave but foolhardy gang members, Reon stepped in front of Bell Wake. “I am not about to run from her.”

“You idiot, she’s here to save this pathetic man. Take him away and she’ll follow.”

Reon hesitated as the desire to stay in the battle fought with the logic of Bell Wake’s plan. Logic prevailed. Reon hopped into the saddle on the konapol, repositioned Fawbry so he could not willfully or accidentally fall off, and then kicked the konapol into a full gallop. Before she looked back and saw it, she heard the sharp slice of Malja’s blade decapitating a young man sitting upon another konapol. When she finally did look back, she caught sight of Malja kicking the corpse aside and launching the konapol in pursuit.

Fawbry cocked his head back. “You should let me go.”

“Shut up.”

“The longer you run, the angrier she’s going to be.”

Reon guided her konapol toward the copse of trees. “I’d put my head down, if I were you.”

Fawbry looked ahead and saw the approaching branches and tree trunks threatening harm. He lowered his head. Reon pushed her konapol harder. Thankfully, Fawbry said no more.

As they galloped around trees, she heard Malja closing in. They broke into a clearing with tall grass. They ripped through like a thresher devouring all that lay in front. Though Reon rode her konapol with unrelenting pressure, Malja’s konapol still gained ground. Fawbry added too much weight. No way could she outrun Malja.

In seconds, Malja had pulled up alongside. The two konapols grunted as they galloped. Reon locked eyes with Malja and saw a demon grin that reminded her of frightening pictures of Clariofox, one of Dulmul’s seven demons.

Malja whipped out her curved blade. In one slash, she cut open the konapol’s flank. She then sliced back again across the creature’s legs.

As Reon tumbled over the head of her konapol, life became slow. Her legs lifted into the air, and the beast’s blood sprayed across the tan grass. Malja grabbed Fawbry by the shoulders and yanked him onto her mount.

Even as Reon watched this happen, even as she felt her body floating away, even as she knew that in seconds she would smash back into the ground and reality would return to its normal speed, her mind sped through a series of thoughts that left her gasping. It all came down to a simple, one-word question:
Why?

The
how
she understood well enough. Lord Harskill had visited her when she was a child, and he impressed upon her his power. And she believed. Right to her core, she believed. But now, after having witnessed the abuses of the Gate, after having been manipulated by Lord Harskill, after seeing first-hand his maniacal behavior, she had to wonder
why
she still fought for him.

As her body descended, it occurred to her that perhaps she maintained her loyalty because it was easier. Lord Harskill had presented a plan that provided solutions to the problems of the many worlds. Right or wrong did not seem to apply — at first, at least. But now, Reon wasn’t so sure. Now, it had become evident that the Gate wanted these worlds as playthings for the power hungry.

They planned to rule, to dictate, and the only peace that would be coming arrived with shackles. This was no group seeking to unify the universes. Rather, this was greed, sadism, and political treachery. Each Gate had come for him or herself. Including Lord Harskill — though the term
Lord
seemed ill-fitting at this point.

When she hit the ground, she rolled backwards, slamming her knees into the hard dirt. She yelled as momentum threw her over onto her shoulders. Her legs slapped out in front of her. Despite the pain, she hurried back to her feet. Malja, Fawbry, and her konapol were already a bouncing dot in the distance.

It looked as if Bell Wake had gotten her way. Though Reon started walking immediately, she knew that by the time she reached the Library, chances were high that the battle would be over. She walked anyway.

Harskill wanted this to be an individual fight with spoils going to the winners — fine. She didn’t belong with them. She knew that now.

As she headed through the grass, a phrase repeated in her mind like a meditation mantra.

No more.

Chapter 27

Malja

Digging her heels deep
into the stirrups, Malja goaded the konapol faster. It snorted as it shot over a wide boulder. Though it threatened to veer off, Malja kept the unruly animal headed straight for the bridge.

“You okay?” she asked.

Fawbry peeked over his shoulder. “Of course. You think I’m not used to playing this part in your little show?”

“Sorry.” She yanked the konapol’s head to the right.

Without missing a step, Fawbry swung his foot over the creature’s head and sat up in the saddle, pressing back against Malja’s chest. They cut through the small standing of trees and raced onward.

When Malja clearly saw the back of Harskill’s army, she understood her enemy’s strategy. Fawbry had been nothing more than a distraction aimed at pulling her away so that Harskill’s final assault could begin.

A steady stream of colacks, talisi, soldiers, and gang members funneled toward the bridge. They marched shoulder to shoulder, grumbling and arguing like green fighters eager to prove themselves and unleash their pent-up aggressions.

Malja wrapped the reins around Fawbry’s only hand. She then slipped out Viper and held the weapon off the konapol’s right flank. “You ready for this?”

“Are you serious?”

“We have to get across, and I can’t portal so close to Tommy and the Library.”

“I told you I just wanted to be the General.”

Malja patted Fawbry’s shoulder. “You still are. Lead the way.”

The konapol barreled on. It shook its head and snorted but did not lose its momentum.
Not for long,
Malja thought. They had pushed this creature close to exhaustion.

A single, gray gorg, the smaller cousin of the giant gorgut, turned its lumpy head toward the thumping claws of the konapol. Though it probably wanted to shout a warning, it never had the chance. As they ripped by, Malja cut it down with one clean swipe.

They closed in on the crowding army, and the konapol slowed its pace. Fawbry snapped the reins to keep it going. Again, the konapol tried to slow down. As Fawbry drove the animal harder, Malja saw the problem up ahead. All those soldiers and creatures formed a solid, impenetrable wall.

Malja had been on that bridge — no way would this army standing four wide ever fit. They would have to cross single-file — maybe double, if they pressed in tight. That meant this army was bottlenecked. They would not be able to move forward, and backward would prove just as difficult.

Confirming her analysis, Harskill’s voice roared over the army. “We must have order! You can’t all cross at once!”

Malja pointed ahead. “Don’t worry about them.”

“We can’t smack right into them,” Fawbry said.

“Don’t think of them as a wall of soldiers. Think of them as the foundation for a road.”

Unable to hide his shocked face, Fawbry said, “Please tell me that’s a joke.”

“Seems the best idea to me, and we’re running out of room.”

“But I’m not so sure —”

In one quick motion, Malja smacked the flat of her blade against the konapol’s hindquarters while reaching around Fawbry’s chest to yank him backwards. The motion brought his hand up, pulling on the rein. Coupled with the blade slap, the konapol reared as it moved forward, leaving it no choice but to climb upward.

The agile creature loped across the top of the army. Its claws grasped desperately at heads and shoulders as it forced its way over. Fear and instinct drove it across. Once started, Malja knew the creature would not stop running until it found land again.

The shouts and groans of the army beneath them only increased the panic. A few thrust their swords up into the konapol’s path, but Malja swatted them away with Viper. When they reached the bridge, the konapol leaped off the last of the army, landed firmly on the wooden planks, and soared across. Those in its path were knocked aside, falling off the bridge and down into the darkness below.

Fawbry whooped a cheer. Malja kept quiet — too early to celebrate. Only confusion had saved them from being an easy target.
No,
Malja thought.
Harskill still holds hope for wooing me to his arms.

“Stop moving forward,” Harskill shouted. The army kept pressing on. He then yelled at the Gate near him, but Malja couldn’t pick out his words.

Knocking off the last enemy soldier with a swift kick, Malja dismounted the konapol and slammed Viper into the bridge’s rope railing. When Viper hit, the rope snapped away revealing sturdy metal inside. Sparks flew off and a harsh vibration rippled up Malja’s arm.

Brother Rokure approached from the right. “Sorry, we built it to last. Just didn’t want anybody to realize it was strong.”

Malja pivoted her foot and brought Viper down hard on the wooden planks. They shattered, tumbling chunks down like the soldiers before. Two more powerful blows. Malja removed four feet of the bridge’s walkway, creating a gap too far for most to cross.

Though the act felt good, it proved pointless. Two portals opened above the Library platform. The ground trembled. Rocks vibrated, and several rolled right into the gorge. The quake broke the monks’ concentration. The energy field they had maintained fell apart as the two Gate dropped to the ground.

Malja lifted Viper and charged ahead. Her efforts were unnecessary. Tommy was there.