The Crimson Vault Part 48

The creature died with barely a spasm, releasing its death grip on the hammer. Its body dissolved into nothing more than a mound of vaguely human-shaped ash.

Just in case, Alin sent tendrils of blue questing into the pile of ash, thirstily drinking up the remnants of heat and power.

Then he called a meteor of golden power from the sky, blasting the pile into a crater five feet deep and ten feet wide. The ash rose on the wind, likely scattered from here to Bel Calem.

No sense taking chances.

A blue-armored knight rode up to Alin, saluting him. He rode a creature that looked like the blue-skinned hybrid of a tree frog and a wildcat.

"The creatures of Naraka have been pacified, sir," the knight said.

"Excellent," Alin responded. "Tell all the districts to see to the villagers. Treat them with all courtesy and respect."

The knight saluted and rode away.

Alin lifted into the air on sunset wings, drifting back to his family's house. After a moment of searching, he brought up Tamara's travel-bag. Within it, he could feel the sticky, grasping presence of Ragnarus, pulsing like a disembodied heart.

Slinging the travel-bag over his shoulder, he went to search for his Gold soldiers. He needed Ilana.

And then he had some business to conduct.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:.

LONG LIVE THE KING.

358th Year of the Damascan Calendar 24th Year in the Reign of King Zakareth VI Summer's End Simon woke up, in a strange room of a strange city, feeling oddly refreshed. A huge window lay just next to his bed, and a single glance outside showed him that many of the nearby buildings were built around trees. A handful of men and women in brightly colored festival clothing celebrated something, but most hurried about their work.

There had been a holiday coming up, but he couldn't quite remember which one. And if today was a holiday, why wasn't everyone celebrating?

Summer's End, he remembered at last. If this was a holiday, it should be Summer's End: the end of the first half of the year. Tomorrow would be the first day of autumn, so people celebrated the last days of summer.

In Myria, no one would do any work today. At least, none they didn't absolutely have to. Apparently things were different here, wherever this was, judging by how few of the people had joined in the festivities. Most hurried by, or gathered in groups, whispering.

Well, he thought, at least I have something to celebrate. I'm clean, dry, and comfortable.

Even here, there should be a Summer's End feast. His stomach groaned at the thought.

He glanced around the room, hoping to see some food, but no such luck: the room was small, with just a table, his bed, and a second bed, exactly like the first. That bed was empty and neatly made.

The door, presumably leading into the hallway, had been barred from the inside. Well, it sure was a good thing he had a bar on his door. No Incarnation or hostile Traveler could possibly get to him in the face of a barred door. Now he felt secure.

That means I don't have a doll, he realized. If Otoku or Caela had been around, they would surely have responded to his sarcastic thoughts. They rarely missed an opportunity to p.r.i.c.k his ego.

Simon slid out of the bed, feeling stronger than he would have expected. The last thing he remembered was taking the mask off and feeling like he would never be strong enough to walk again. Come to think of it, how long had he been here? And where was here, exactly?

A note on the table nearby caught his eye, and he picked it up.

Simon, he read.

You're in the healer's wing of the Overlord Eli's estate in Abdera. We took you to the pool, but you didn't wake up. You've been in the care of the Asphodel healers here. I hope to return before you wake, but if I don't, come to the House as soon as you read this.

Do not leave your room.

*Denner Simon regarded the note, glanced at the morning sun out the window, and stretched.

Then he summoned Azura, prepared to open a Valinhall Gate. He considered walking outside anyway, in defiance of Denner's orders, but he really had no reason to. He had very little idea where *Abdera' was, and even if he did, he'd rather be in the House anyway. Hopefully, both Denner and Indirial would be home, and then he could get some complete answers.

Come to think of it, had Kai survived? A knot formed in his stomach. The last he had seen Kai, the man was dying from a cursed wound. Had they managed to heal him in time?

Suddenly worried, Simon raised the blade to begin cutting open a Gate, and found himself pointing the tip of his sword at Alin's throat.

Simon jerked back, banishing Azura.

"Alin!" he said. Then he noticed what Alin was carrying: he cradled Ilana gently in both his arms. "Howasorry, I didn't see you there. I didn't meanawhat's wrong with her?"

"Nothing, physically," Alin responded, his voice calm and even. "She is healthy, so I imagine that her mind is in shock. She will need regular supervision until she recovers."

That was when Simon realized that this wasn't Alin.

Not really.

He couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed immediately. Alin's skin was a shade lighter than usual, as though he had died last night and hadn't quite decided to lie down yet. His hair was a brighter gold, as though it was actually made out of coils of precious metal.

But it was his eyes that were the biggest giveaway. The whites were still white, but unnaturally so*they were pure white, white as clouds at noon, white as fresh snow. And his irisesa Simon wasn't sure what color Alin's eyes had been before, but whatever that color was, it was probably in there. Somewhere. His irises were made of shifting slices of color, as though a rainbow had bent itself into a ring and been crammed into Alin's eyes. The rainbow's rings practically glowed, shifting so that the orange was the most obvious one second, then the pink the next, then the aquamarine.

"Alina" Simon began hesitantly, "aare you okay?" He had almost asked What are you?, but he thought Alin might take that badly.

Besides, he was afraid he knew.

He suddenly wished he hadn't banished Azura.

Alin ignored the question, carefully laying his sister down on the freshly made bed.

"I need you to look after her," Alin said. His voice still had no particular inflection; he sounded as though he were reading his words off a page. "Take her to your Territory, or back to Myria, whatever you like. Not Enosh. Just take care of her, and keep her safe."

"Why not bring her to your Territory instead?" Simon asked.

"I can't go back there anymore," Alin said. He stared out the east window; from that angle, he would be staring directly into the sun. He didn't blink.

Simon cleared his throat, focusing as best he could on not upsetting Alin. But he still needed answers. "Okay. That's fine. How did you know I was here? I'm not even sure where here is, to tell you the truth."

Simon forced out a laugh, but it probably sounded as nervous as he felt.

"I sensed you," Alin said calmly.

His rainbow eyes shifted and glowed. More than that, the room filled with his presence. It didn't physically get any brighter, but it felt bright, as though the light had been made solid and was pressing against Simon's skin. Simon barely resisted the urge to back out of the room.

Without prompting, Alin turned back to the sun. "I wanted to be a hero so badly, Simon," he said casually. "No, let's be honest. I wanted people to know I was a hero. But I never acted very heroic. Not really."

There was no way this was Alin. He would never say these things. If he did, he would never say them to Simon. And even if he could bring himself to do that, to bare his soul before Simon, he could never sound soamatter-of-fact about the whole thing. This was Alin, who could turn the story of the Lost Badarin into an entrancing epic with nothing but his voice. He filled every word with emotion.

At least, he had before. Now, he sounded as though he didn't even care about what he was saying.

Alin turned and met Simon's gaze with his hypnotic, shifting, rainbow-colored eyes. "Now I can really be a hero." Finally, some emotion had returned to Alin's voice, but it somehow made things worse. He sounded almostahungry. "The Incarnations are tearing themselves free all over the country. They're going to leave a trail of blood and death behind them. I can stop them."

He turned back out to the window and smiled briefly, as though imagining himself blasting an Incarnation to pieces.

"Alin," Simon said. He hesitated briefly, considering his words carefully, and then tossed his care out the window and said what he really thought. "You'll stop them, okay, I understand that. But who's going to stop you? I thinkaI think there's something wrong with you."

Alin stared off in the distance as though he hadn't heard the question. His voice had died again. "The Incarnations aren't the root of the problem. You have to pull up the problem at its root. People like the Grandmasters, they're the problem. Yes. I'll have to bring mercy to the Grandmasters as well."

Simon wondered if he could call steel without Alin somehow sensing it.

Once more, Alin looked back to Simon, a wry smile on his face. For an instant, he looked like the boy Simon remembered from Myria.

"Keep my sister safe. And if it becomes necessarya" Alin shrugged, once again sounding apathetic. "Then I guess you'll have to stop me. Who else is there?"

He stepped back up on the windowsill, spreading wings of orange light. An instant later, he was gone.

Simon barely waited for Alin to leave before summoning Azura and starting to cut a Valinhall Gate.

He supposed it could have been worse. He had already killed one Incarnation; what was ten more?

For some reason, he felt like crying.

When the Gate finally opened, unfolding into a vision of the Valinhall entry room, he scooped Ilana up in his arms and carried her through.

Behind him, the Gate to Valinhall zipped shut.

Leah looked around her at the plush couches, the gold-framed mirrors, the stacks of books and piles of scrolls. Even the furniture was masterfully carved and varnished, of a quality she would have expected from the royal palace in Cana. On the walls hung sword-racks; four racks on each of three walls, for a total of twelve. Only four of them were occupied.

One empty rack hung on another wall, but it stood alone. Briefly, she wondered why.

It didn't matter, she supposed; she was simply taking in all the detail she could. After all, she didn't think anyone in her family had ever gotten such a close look at the House of Blades.

Indirial stood nearby, talking strategy with an iron-haired captain she thought was named Erastes. The two of them leaned over a table that was hardly visible beneath spread-out maps and unraveled scrolls.

The white-haired Traveler, Kai, limped into the room. He leaned on a cane with his left hand, but he held something like an apple in his right.

When he saw Leah, he tossed her the fruit. She barely managed to catch it in both hands.

"You should eat," Kai said gently. "Can't have the Queen of Damasca losing her strength."

That was possibly the most ordinary thing he had said to her since she had arrived the night before. Once she and Indirial had determined that there was no way back into Cana, he had brought her here. As he had put it, *To formulate a plan of attack.'

Leah took a bite of the fruit, but she almost spit it back out. It was not an apple. It was sweet, but also heavy and spicy, like someone had crossed an apple with some mild pepper. It wasn't unpleasant, exactly, but the surprise alone had almost caused her to choke.

Kai looked at her from behind his s.h.a.ggy hair and he let out an all-but-silent chuckle.

Leah arched an eyebrow at him and prepared to say something cutting, but a streak of light tore its way down from the ceiling, widening into a Gate.

Immediately Kai stepped back, leaving room for Simon to walk into the room.

In his arms, he had somehow balanced both his long Valinhall blade and a girl. No, not just any girl: Ilana.

Alin's sister.

A cold wind swept through Leah, and she shuddered. She could think of only a few reasons why Simon would be carrying Alin's unconscious sister through a Gate into Valinhall. None of them were good.

Kai immediately took the sword from Simon, pulling the blade away carefully and running his hand along the dull edge before placing it gently on a sword rack. That man had definite issues.

The captain, Erastes, took the girl from Simon.

"Bring her to my room," Simon said wearily. "Make sure the Nye don't get her. Thanks."

Erastes looked like he was about to say something, but he glanced at Indirial and simply walked out of the room.

"What happened?" Indirial asked, his dark eyes sharp on Simon.

"I've got bad news," Simon said simply.

Then he told them.

Leah carefully placed the rest of her fruit on a nearby table. She didn't feel much like eating just now.

Alin, an Incarnation.

And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse.

Simon seemed to notice Leah, and he frowned. "Leah. I meanaHeiress, Highnessawhatever. Leah. What are you doing here?"

At the moment, Leah was too tired to deal with his mode of address. "We have plans to make," she said.

"I thought you'd be in the royal palace," Simon said. Oh, of course. He didn't know.

Indirial spoke up. "We'd like to be, Simon. Unfortunately, there's no way in or out of Cana. We think the Incarnation has things sealed up tight. We can't even Travel in; Gates to Cana just won't open anymore."

"Oh," Simon said. Then he frowned again and opened his mouth, but Leah forestalled the obvious question.

"We lost," she said bitterly. "The Grandmasters got to the Tree in Cana. Maybe if it were any other year, it would have ended there. But with the sacrifice this yeara"