The Way of the Power (17 page)

“Stop it,” Malja said. “You two are going to hurt yourselves.”

Stray gathered what little they had. “Let’s not be fools. The portal is open. We must take advantage of what we have been given.”

“But —”

“The longer they are forced to maintain the portal, the longer the risk. Yes?”

Malja assented and turned back to Hirasa. “I can take two at a time. Stray and Fawbry first. Then you. Then the Artisoll and Tommy. If we do it fast enough —”

Fawbry stepped into the hall. “Holy Brother Gods!”

Malja looked back and her voice caught. She couldn’t believe what she witnessed. Tommy and the Artisoll stood and walked through the portal. No burns. No loss of limb. No screams. No death. They had created a stable portal that anybody could travel through.

“Quickly,” Stray said. “Everyone through.”

Fawbry pointed at Tommy with his one hand. “I lost my hand and you could have done that the whole time?”

“He couldn’t,” Malja said. “It’s the Artisoll. Now, if you care about either of them, you’ll run through there and help us get her to the temple for this Rising. We won’t have much more time before Abrazkia notices. You understand? Abrazkia will find out this has happened. She won’t, she can’t, allow this. Unless we help them, creating this portal had condemned Tommy and the Artisoll to death.”

Chapter 15

The instant Tommy
and the Artisoll closed the portal, Malja ordered the group to build a camp for the night. Hirasa jumped to work. Fawbry and Stray, however, wanted to get moving toward the temple.

“She has to be there when the Rising comes,” Stray said.

“We will be. But look at them both. They’re exhausted. They may make it look simple enough, but creating portals is the most difficult magic there is. Difficult to cast, and far more difficult to control. My entire world was destroyed because our best magicians couldn’t control this magic. So give them a few hours to rest. Besides, Fawbry’s only just starting to sound normal, and I don’t know what to do about him. So, we’ll get the Artisoll to the temple, but not yet. It’s not that far anyway, right?”

After checking the Artisoll, Stray withheld further protest. Her eyes had large dark circles and her skin had paled. Tommy looked no better.

Hirasa built a small fire, and in minutes the group had fallen asleep. No one wanted to admit it, but they all welcomed the rest. Malja most of all.

She nominated herself for the first watch, and as she sat on a fallen log, she felt her do-kha stitching her back together. Little pinpricks and sharp stings ignited her skin around each wound. It was a remarkable thing, this do-kha, but there had to be a limit. If not to what the do-kha could do for her, then certainly to what she could endure.

Gate are not gods. Some act like it, but they are not. Then again, she had never faced anything like Abrazkia. The strength and unpredictability of the woman made her more dangerous than even the wildest, most brainless beasts Malja had ever fought.

More disturbing — no matter her feelings toward those Gate she had encountered so far, she could not deny her identity. She was Gate, too. At least, she was born Gate. Gate by blood but not by belief. Could she be such a thing? If so, what did that actually make her?

She tried to shake off these thoughts, but her eyes fell upon Fawbry. He slept on the far side of the campfire — alone. She had forgiven him for the horror he had created. It had not been his fault. But she couldn’t blame the Artisoll, either. The Artisoll had not intentionally scrambled Fawbry’s mind. It was simply an aspect of her magic like heat radiating from her body. But none of this understanding could bring Lynoya back or erase the image of Fawbry standing in a room of blood.

Malja knew that Tommy would understand eventually. Once the Artisoll became Queen, the influence of her magic would no longer possess the boys, and Tommy would know exactly what Fawbry had gone through. Still, she found it difficult to look at Fawbry for long.

Hours later, Stray awoke and settled next to her on the log. “I don’t like how things are. Still, I must thank you.”

“Oh sure. Anytime you want me to come to your world and create chaos, I’m happy to oblige.”

“You did create a lot of chaos, and I’m not sure it was worth it. But you also saved my life. I would have stood my ground against all three sides of that fight, and I would have died. They would have slaughtered each other until whichever side brought the most soldiers won and took the Artisoll. After that, who knows what would have happened? Maybe the people of the world would simply accept the winning side and continue on. Yet I strongly doubt it.”

“Yeah. People don’t mind corruption when they can deceive themselves into thinking they get a fair part of the deal. But when they see somebody steal the rule of a kingdom — or in this case, an entire world — well, they don’t like it as much.”

“It’s happened here before. The only way to calm the people is to bribe as many as necessary to calm the rest. Usually those bribes are to the police guard and the military. Together they can muscle down any opposition. But you stopped that from happening. How things progress from here is unknown, but for the moment, the Artisoll is unclaimed. That gives me a hopeful feeling, and it is for that reason that I thank you.”

Malja took off her long coat and rolled it into a pillow. “Glad to be of help,” she said, resting her head on the roll and letting the low-burning fire warm her back. “Let’s hope I didn’t make things worse.”

“Now that we’re back here, my world has a chance for it not to be what would have been inevitable. I think that’s worthwhile.” Stray removed his own coat and covered it over Malja. “Get some rest. We have a hard day ahead.” Malja raised an eyebrow at the gesture. Stray scowled. “You’re no good to me or the Artisoll if you’re tired.”

Malja looked off at the trees, watching the firelight dance upon the leaves and the snow as if it was a private illusion create by Tommy for her entertainment. Her eyes narrowed from the treeline to the rocks in front of her where she saw a curious sight — a row of stits foraging through the night to feed their colony. In teams of two the insects lugged morsels of grass and leaves across the rock, laboring together to bring these heavy items back to their nest. A larger insect — green body, hard shell, and three fur-lined feelers sticking out its back — watched the caravan just as Malja did. Only this insect wasn’t simply observing. It was hunting.

With impressive speed, the larger insect slammed down on one of the stits and flew off with its little victim twitching in its mouth. The others kept the caravan moving. A new stit rushed in to help the survivor of the team. Malja had seen this behavior in insects before. They were each nothing more than tools for the whole colony to live.

She knew well the joy the larger insect felt, but she also knew what it was like to twitch helplessly in an enemy’s grasp. At the moment, she thought she held both positions at the same time.

Her eyes grew heavy, and as she slipped into sleep, a thought jolted her awake. She sat up and nudged Stray in the knee. “You’ve given up everything for her. Not even really for her specifically but for the idea of her — the idea of the Artisoll. You’re an excellent warrior. You could easily have become a General, led armies, conquered nations. You could have become as big as a legend and all would know your name. Instead, you’re little and unknown. All the guards with you were killed and yet nobody seems to notice. You’re one of a group that is expendable.”

“You woke up to point out that I’m nobody?”

“I want to know if you think it’s worth the sacrifices you’ve made.”

Stray did not answer at once but gave the point serious thought. Malja liked him more for that. Scratching his stubbly chin, he said, “I think you want to know more than simply if it’s worthwhile. Because of course it’s worthwhile. Why else would you all help? What makes it worthwhile for me is certainly different than for you, but we all are here to help the Artisoll for a reason we deem worthy. If not, then we risk our lives for nothing — then we are small and insignificant. But beyond that, I think you truly want to know if I regret the choice I’ve made. I could have stayed in the streets, risen in that world, become a leader of crime. Who knows? Maybe I would have joined the military to escape that life and done as you say, become a great General. I’ve thought about this before. All sane people think about what if they had made different choices. In the end, I always come to the same conclusion — that I cannot regret what I have chosen, for being the Artisoll’s guard makes me part of something vital to our people. Fame and fortune are fleeting. I’m sure they’re fun to have around but such accolades cannot define a life because they require the approval of others. I refuse to live a life that requires a pat on the head in order to define my own worth. So, no. I will never regret my choices no matter the outcome. For they are mine. Now, you make the choice to sleep or we’ll all regret it in the morning.”

Malja saluted the order and rested her head back on the roll. Her thoughts swam in Stray’s answer but not enough to keep her awake. She fell asleep fast, and her do-kha worked through the night.

* * * *

Malja grabbed her attacker by the throat and shoved the person to the ground. As she reached across her rolled coat for Viper, her head cleared and she became fully aware of her surroundings. Beneath her unyielding grip, she saw Hirasa.

“Sorry.” She released her hand.

Hirasa coughed and gasped. “I shouldn’t have startled you awake.”

“We’ll both try to be more careful.”

The brief confrontation made enough noise to stir the others. Stray twisted his torso causing audible cracks and pops from his weary bones while Tommy and the Artisoll stretched in a more graceful manner.

Malja tensed. “Where’s Fawbry?”

“That’s why I woke you,” Hirasa said. “He’s gone.”

Chapter 16

“How can Fawbry be gone?”
Malja stomped around the campfire, kicking at the ground as if she would suddenly find him hiding beneath a stone. “Did you fall asleep during your watch?”

Hirasa’s voice cracked. “No. I swear by the love of Pali and Carsite that I would never betray your trust. I was awake the entire time.”

“Then how did he get by you? We were all sleeping around this fire. We weren’t spread far apart. You should’ve heard him, at least.”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I did as you taught me — I looked outward so the firelight didn’t make it more difficult to see in the dark. I kept my ears open. And I know him — he’s not that stealthy.”

“This makes no sense.”

Stray scooped several handfuls of snow onto the dying fire. “It makes plenty of sense. Fawbry has been deeply touched by the Artisoll’s aura of magic. Down to the tiniest bits of his entire being, he feels the desire, the aching need, to protect and aid the Artisoll.”

Malja thrust her hands toward the Artisoll. “But she’s here. Not off traipsing about the woods.”

“If he’s thinking logically — given how obsessed he is with her — he could have gone out there in search of a weapon or another person to help. But he butchered Lynoya in order to protect the Artisoll, so I doubt he’s thinking logically. He’s mad, and whatever mad thoughts he suffers, he believes his actions are justified. All in the name of the Artisoll.”

Malja considered Stray’s words. She shook out her long coat before donning it in one smooth motion. Then she picked up Viper. “Well, let’s start searching. Hirasa, how long ago do you think he got away?”

“No more than an hour. I remember walking a circle around all of you about an hour back, and he was there. No doubt about it.”

“Good. If we break up into two groups —”

“We will not be searching for Fawbry,” Stray said. “At least, myself and the Artisoll will not.”

“What? Why?”

“Nothing is more important than the Artisoll. She is my only care in all of this or any world. The rest of you may go off to find Fawbry, that is your decision. But I will remain with the Artisoll. I will fulfill what I have been trained to do. We must go to the Temple.”

“Fawbry is not somebody to be discarded. And your Artisoll is the one who did this to him.”

“None of the rest of you has succumbed like he has. It is his weak mind that did this. Wasting our efforts to find a madman is not why we are here.”

With a shake in her voice, Hirasa broke in. “Please. There’s no need for this. Fawbry disappeared on my watch. It’s my fault. I don’t know how he managed to get away without my noticing, but he did, and that makes me responsible.” She lowered her head before Malja and placed a hand across her stomach. “Stray is right. We’re here for the Artisoll. That’s what should be primary to us all. Fawbry ... he is ill and he needs someone to bring him back. Someone capable of forgiving his terrible crime. So, please. Allow me to find Fawbry so that you all may continue to help the Artisoll.”

Stray removed a long dagger from his belt and handed it to Hirasa. “You’re very sensible. Be careful. May luck follow you always.”

Malja watched this exchange and held her tongue. She wanted to veto Hirasa’s suggestion. Fawbry was her family which made him her responsibility, but if she were in Hirasa’s place, she would have volunteered as well. Perhaps it would be best to let the young woman find Fawbry — it would fill her with some pride, boost her confidence, and most importantly, relieve any guilt weighing on her from allowing this to happen in the first place. Except Malja knew better than to let emotions dictate a plan of action on the battlefield.