The Crimson Vault Part 46

The man screamed and begged as the robed lizard-men dragged him off to his punishment. He even s.n.a.t.c.hed at the hem of Grandmaster Naraka's robes as he was dragged past, pleading for help.

The Grandmaster stepped out of reach. This was for his own good; whatever punishment he received, he would be a more honest man for it.

The Naraka Incarnation slowly turned its ma.s.sive body, regarding Grandmaster Naraka with amus.e.m.e.nt on his ashen face.

"Soa" he rumbled slowly. "You are not known to me, but you have a familiar smell."

Grandmaster Naraka pushed her gla.s.ses up on her nose. To her shame, she briefly considered pretending to be blind, an easy enough a.s.sumption for most people to make. It usually gained her a measure of sympathy, or at least opponents who underestimated her.

But the Incarnation would see through that in a second, and even if he didn't, he could almost certainly sense a lie.

She was ashamed it had even crossed her mind. She would need to a.s.sign herself an appropriate punishment, later.

"I am called a Grandmaster of Naraka," she said. "This is now my only ident.i.ty. I have shed my old self to become an avatar of my Territory."

The Incarnation chuckled, sounding like he had tried to gargle boulders. "You are not an avatar of your Territory," he said. "Not in full. You don't even know what that means."

"Regardless, I have lived my life in accordance with Naraka. It was I who burned the Tree in Cana."

The Incarnation's ember-colored eyes flared. All around the city, creatures of Naraka shrieked as one.

"Then you turned the last key in my prison," he said. "I owe you a debt."

She shook her head, spreading her hands to show her humility. "You owe me nothing. I wish only to destroy the keys to that prison, and ensure that you are kept free."

The Incarnation lashed his tail, leaning forward on his ma.s.sive hammer. "Speak clearly, Grandmaster."

She met his glowing gaze squarely.

"There is a seeda"

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:.

THE GATES OF HEAVEN.

358th Year of the Damascan Calendar 24th Year in the Reign of King Zakareth VI 42 Days After Midsummer 3 Days Until Summer's End Alin returned from Myria as weary as he had ever been in his life. His armor seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, and all he wanted was to head straight to his rooms and sink into bed.

But as soon as he stepped out of the Naraka Traveling room*where each Naraka Traveler in the Grandmasters' palace arrived and departed*he was all but mobbed by a group of Enosh citizens.

The cheering felt like it would destroy his ears.

"Eliadel!" someone cheered.

"You did it!" a man called.

A weeping woman threw her arms around Alin's neck, and all of a sudden everyone was trying to touch him, even just placing their hands on his armor.

The Naraka Traveler leaned forward and whispered, "They didn't catch you the first time, but everyone has heard the story by now. They deserved the chance to thank you."

Alin glared at the man, but he just smiled back.

I specifically asked him to keep quiet, and what does he do? He has the whole palace waiting for us, that's what he does!

But he had to admit, as he listened to the people talk about his courage, his strength, and how much better their lives would be without Damascan oppression, that they probably deserved it.

He found himself smiling and shaking hands, returning greetings and compliments. He did avoid telling the story, though; he would surely do so eventually, but for now, the memory was just too fresh.

The crowd practically carried him off, so it was most of an hour before he broke free and managed to make it back to his rooms. All in all, the encounter had done him good*he felt much better now than he had earlier. The world had begun to seem so complicated recently; it felt as if any decision he made would inevitably be wrong.

He could relax now, knowing that at least these people's lives had been made better by his actions.

When he pulled open the door to his rooms, Grandmaster Naraka was waiting for him.

"I've been watching you," she said. "I know what you did."

Alin sighed, stepping past her on his way to the bed. His armor was so uncomfortable that it would surely keep him awake if he tried to lie down in it, otherwise he would just collapse with the suit still on.

"I killed the King, and practically won your war single-handedly," Alin said. "At least one Incarnation is free, and now I'm sure Damasca will be too busy fighting their own prisoners to send any armies against you. You're free, and you're welcome."

With the light of the hallway to her back, Grandmaster Naraka was little more than a dark silhouette with blood-red lenses over her eyes.

"Did you give your sisters the seed?" she asked. "Or do you still have it?"

A ball of ice formed in the pit of his stomach.

"What are you talking about?" Alin asked.

"Come now, boy. You told me yourself. Where is the seed to the Hanging Tree?"

"Hidden," he responded.

She shook her head sadly. "The Incarnations will hunt for that seed. Other than another Ragnarus Traveler or their own foolishness, it's one of the only things that can send them back to their prison. You should give it to me, and I will destroy it."

"Or what?" he asked.

She met his eyes, her voice level. "Even now, the Incarnation of Naraka is on his way to Myria."

Fear and fury rose up in him in equal measures as he marched across his floor, seizing the old woman with both hands and lifting her off the ground.

"What have you done?"

"I can contact the denizens of Naraka with my mind," Grandmaster Naraka said. "It would be child's play to let the Incarnation know that I have the seed, and that there is no more need to destroy your hometown."

"Do it now!" Alin roared.

"The seed," she said. "Give me the seed, and this can all go away."

Rage blurred Alin's vision, and his grip was so tight that he wouldn't be surprised to hear one of her bones snap. For a moment, he considered killing her, as he had killed the King.

But her death wouldn't stop the Incarnation. It wouldn't save his sisters.

He dropped her to the floor and released her shoulders.

"All right," he said. "You win. Call it off, and I'll retrieve the seed."

"A wise decision, Eliadel."

Her calm demeanor did nothing but stoke his anger hotter. "Do not speak to me. If anything happens to my sisters, I will make sure you suffer the same fate as Overlord Malachi."

Grandmaster Naraka executed an ironic bow, then reached out her marked hand. She waved it slightly as she concentrated.

Alin watched her for a moment.

At first, she looked peaceful. Then a frown grew on her face. Finally, her whole face tightened into a rictus of pain and concentration. A trickle of blood ran from her nose.

Finally she jerked forward, her gla.s.ses flying off her face and shattering on the floor. "I can't," she panted. "It's too much. He won't listen."

Alin's stomach churned.

"What are you saying?" he asked. Dread hung heavy in his voice.

She didn't seem triumphant. If anything, she seemed lost and confused. "The Incarnation. I can't stop him. He's heading into Myria."

Alin stared at her a moment. Then he thrust his hands out in front of him, reaching through s.p.a.ce into Elysia.

"I'll take you through Naraka," the Grandmaster said. She mopped her forehead as though to wipe away sweat. "The sun is setting. I know it's easier to open a Gate to Elysia at midday."

Ignoring her, Alin tore even harder at the barrier between this world and his Territory. The air shimmered and shook, fighting him, putting up a futile resistance as a golden tear formed above the ground.

"I did not intend this," Grandmaster Naraka said, "but you should not miss the lesson. No matter what the Incarnation does, it would not have happened if you had just given me the seed."

She sounded resolved, but Alin knew her better than that. She was trying to convince herself.

Alin shouted, pulling his hands apart as though ripping a curtain in half.

In response to his desperate will alone, a ragged Elysian Gate opened, hanging in midair waiting for him.

Before he walked through, he took an instant to speak to the Grandmaster.

"When I come back," he said, "I'm going to kill you."

Then he ran into the City of Light, letting the portal close behind him.

This time he didn't approach the gates of the city with his normal reverence. He didn't check for traps, and he didn't stop to talk to any of the citizens as usual.

He ran.

He slammed open the gates and rushed down the streets, pushing people aside if they even came close to blocking his way. This being the Gold District, they would likely all want to fight him later, but that didn't matter at all. Nothing mattered, if he couldn't reach his sisters in time.

Alin kicked open the door to the heart of Elysia*it wasn't strictly necessary, but it made him feel as though he were moving faster.

Rhalia stood inside, hovering so close to the floor that her white dress brushed the floor tiles. Her blond hair fluttered in a nonexistent breeze, and her golden eyes shone.

"You look terrible," she said frankly.

"I need to get back to my village," Alin said. He gestured at the doors all around him. "Which of these will let me fly?"

She hesitated. "Alin*"

"You said one of these gives me the power of flight. Which one?"

"Tell me what's wrong, Alin."

Alin took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists. "My sisters are going to die. There's a Naraka Incarnation headed for them. But if I get there first, I can stop it!"

Rhalia flinched, her ever-present smile fading away entirely. "I'm sorry to hear that. Believe me, I understand how you feel. More than you know. But you will regret this."

Alin was prepared to regret this until his dying day, if it kept even one of his sisters alive.

He looked straight into Rhalia's golden eyes. "Which door?"

Rhalia pointed at the door to the Orange District.

Without hesitation, Alin pushed it open.

Under other circ.u.mstances, flying would probably have been the most exciting experience of Alin's life.

He hurtled through the air in the direction of Myria, waves of orange light pushing out from his back like a set of sunset-colored wings. Orange light also wrapped the rest of his body in a kind of pale aura, so that he hurtled through the air like a flame-colored meteor.

He had never moved with such speed. In only a matter of minutes, he went from Enosh to just outside of Myria. He recognized the lay of the land; his family's property wasn't far from here.

Flying this fastasurely he would make it in time.

Then, for the second time in his life, he caught sight of flames rising from the village of Myria.

When the Damascans had raided the village for sacrifices, the setting of fires had been almost accidental. Bonfires had spread out of control thanks to terrified villagers, a few soldiers had set fires for distraction or intimidation, and an Endross Traveler had attacked with too much enthusiasm. While the smoke had seemed awful, relatively little of the village had actually burned down.

This time, flames rose from every building in the village.

Alin shot over the rooftops like a falling star, aiming straight for his sisters' house, where he had left them only the night before.