Part 22 (2/2)

Alin saw the Valinhall Traveler raising one chain-marked arm and pressing it against his green wall, and he hurriedly let the Gate vanish. He had learned over the past weeks that any s.h.i.+elds he left behind would vanish as soon as he stepped into another Territory.

”Rhalia,” Alin called weakly. He wanted nothing more than to relax down into the mattress softness of the gra.s.sy Elysian fields, but he was afraid Grandmaster Naraka would soon bleed to death. She was still shaking her head from side to side, panting and begging Alin to go back, but her voice was barely audible. She looked as though she was only a few seconds from pa.s.sing out.

Rhalia would know what to do, though. She was his guide to the City of Light, and she would know something to help his allies. He started to call her name again, and then he saw something that made his heart freeze.

In the air behind him, where the Gate had once been, a hand was sticking out of midair. This hand was covered in a black gauntlet, a gauntlet with pointed*almost clawed*fingertips, and as Alin watched, it flexed and began to tear the air aside.

The outline of the Gate burned gold in midair, sending off flares of light as the world resisted being violated from the outside. But finally the gatecrawler finished its work, taking the Gate Alin had closed and tearing it wide open.

The white-haired swordsman stepped through the Gate. He raised his black-gauntleted left hand, shaking one finger as if to berate a naughty child. ”Uh-uh-uh,” he said, in a haunting singsong voice. ”The little mice don't get to hide in their burrow, do they? Not when they have scratched the lion's nose.”

”Rhalia!” Alin called. He scrambled to his feet, hurling another ball of golden light at the Valinhall Traveler. It shattered against that translucent green armor, doing no harm whatsoever.

”You are in my Territory now, intruder,” Alin said formally. He drew himself up to his full height, filling both hands with light, letting his golden armor gleam in Elysia's eternal sunrise. ”Your powers cannot stand against mine, not here.”

His voice shook a little on the last word, but it was worth a shot. The swordsman had successfully defended the Tree; if Alin could just get him to back off, then the three of them might actually survive.

”Can they not?” the Valinhall Traveler said curiously. He let his knife drop, and it s.h.i.+mmered and vanished before it hit the gra.s.s. ”Odd. I don't feel any weaker.”

A broad, straight sword flashed into his hand, and he dashed forward.

Alin sent out a mental distress call. There were dozens of beings he could summon here, and most of them would not hesitate to lay down their lives for his. The gold ball of light and the green s.h.i.+eld were not his only powers; they were just the ones he could call most easily and most quickly. There were others, though. For instance...

He concentrated, visualizing the golden sword that he had summoned before. This, too, was made of interlocking planes of light, but where his s.h.i.+eld was made of green, this blade was built of golden force. Light streamed into his hand from all around him, gathering and coalescing into the ghost of a golden blade.

Alin brought the sword up in both hands to meet the other Traveler's one-handed strike.

But the swordsman was strong. Both of Alin's arms trembled from the effort of holding off the Valinhall Traveler's blow. His entire body trembled, and he actually had to sink to one knee to avoid collapsing. Even the gold planes of his sword cracked, leaking light like blood.

”Not bad, golden man,” the white-haired swordsman said. He didn't appear to be trying particularly hard. Alin noticed marks on the man's arms, like links from a chain of shadows, peeking up from his collarbone. Did the shadow-chains spread over his body? Did they make him stronger, or weaker?

If Alin survived this, he and Simon were going to have a long talk.

The Valinhall Traveler kicked Alin in the chest, sending him sprawling in the gra.s.s. ”That's a nice sword,” he said. Alin barely managed to swing the blade enough to deflect the swordsman's next attack, knocking it aside from his position lying on his back.

”They should have taught you how to use it,” the swordsman said, shaking his head regretfully.

A woman's voice, cheerful and vibrant, spoke from behind Alin. ”We haven't had long to work with him,” Rhalia said. ”Give it time.”

Alin pushed his head back, looking up at Rhalia.

She looked to be a young woman, only a few years older than Alin, if that. Her eyes and her long, flowing hair were gold. Not yellow, not the color of straw, but a gleaming metallic gold. She wore a long white dress with a golden sash, and she hovered at least six inches off the ground.

Alin had never actually seen her stand on a solid floor. Privately, he sometimes wondered if was even real.

She smiled down at him, gold eyes flas.h.i.+ng. ”h.e.l.lo, Alin. It seems that every time I see you, you're lying on the gra.s.s.”

”It's just so comfortable here, I can't help myself.” His relief at seeing her was so great that he almost laughed.

The white-haired Valinhall Traveler had ignored Alin as soon as Rhalia arrived, instead stepping over to Grandmaster Naraka. He held his sword reversed in both hands, about to drive it down into her chest.

Interlocking emerald bracelets appeared around his wrists, locking his hands in place.

”Don't challenge me, Traveler,” Rhalia said. She didn't sound threatening; instead, she sounded as though she were chiding a child. ”I may not use many powers in the outside world, but here I can still manage a few tricks.”

The swordsman's chains flared white, and the bracelets shattered.

”So, it seems, can I,” he said. He stepped forward, swinging his sword at Rhalia's midsection with both his hands. The sword flared with a brief violet light, and disappeared mid-swing.

”We hope you've enjoyed your stay in Elysia, City of Light,” she said cheerfully. ”Please have a wonderful afternoon. Good-bye.”

The Valinhall Traveler stepped forward, reaching for her, as though to attack with his bare hands. There was a flash of blinding orange light and he was lifted off his feet, carried on a cus.h.i.+on of orange back and through the still-open Gate.

From top to bottom, the portal zipped itself shut.

”Wow,” Alin found himself saying. ”When can I learn to do that?”

”How loyal are you feeling today?” Rhalia asked, smiling. ”You would have to demonstrate exceptional loyalty for me to trust you with this.”

Exceptional loyalty? He had saved two of his teammates today, surely that should count for something.

Oh, right, he thought. My teammates.

”The Grandmaster!” Alin said, sitting up. ”She needs help. Is there a healer, or something...”

Rhalia drifted over to hover above Grandmaster Naraka. Her white dress fluttered in the gentle breeze, and for a moment her golden gaze looked almost calculating. Cold. As though she were trying to determine what this woman's life was worth.

At last Rhalia shook her head like a child shaking off a nightmare. She snapped her fingers, and a bed of orange lights appeared under Grandmaster Naraka's back, lifting her into the air until she drifted behind Rhalia. ”I'll see what I can do,” Rhalia said.

Alin followed, his body feeling completely drained. He had summoned too much from his Territory today, and opened the Gate too quickly. He felt as though he would pitch onto his face any second. It didn't help that he was still locked in this heavy golden armor.

Rhalia flew up to the tall gates of Elysia, which slid open on soundless hinges as she approached. Alin had walked in and out of this city dozens of times, and he still couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension. Usually, the dangers of Elysia waited deep inside the city, but the first time he had tried to enter he was almost impaled by dozens of arrows as soon as he pushed open these gates. The entrance this time was harmless enough: it was a curving white stone tunnel, burrowing through the walls, set with blazing golden torches every few paces.

Alin walked after the Grandmaster's floating body, her shoes at the same level as his chest. He spared one glance for Gilad, still lying unconscious on the gra.s.s outside, before deciding to leave him. He didn't have the strength to carry the man, and besides, Gilad was still breathing. He would probably be just as safe lying outside the city walls.

As Alin followed Rhalia and the Grandmaster's drifting bed of light, he turned his head at a sound echoing through the tunnel. It sounded like teacups clattering together on a tray. He glanced ahead, around him, and behind, trying to spot the source of the noise. It could mean danger, after all*the way his day was going, it was almost certainly something dangerous.

Finally, he looked down to see his hand trembling so violently that the plates of his gauntlet shook.

Was he that panicked? He hadn't realized. But fear and relief still coursed so violently through his body that he could scarcely stand.

Alin clenched his gauntlet into a fist. He couldn't be weak, not now. He couldn't afford it.

CHAPTER TWELVE:.

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