The Crimson Vault (The Traveler's Gate Trilogy) (18 page)

At first, she just noticed the grit blown in the wind as something she had to keep out of her eyes while she watched the two guards below. Then the silver ribbons on the Enosh Travelers’ masks began to trail off to one side. Dust drifted over their boots.

Leah watched the process for several minutes before it occurred to her that the wind could spell disaster.

She had not buried her recording crystal deeply. Only a few inches of dust covered the rocks down there, and her crystal was the size of a small plum. If the wind kept up, the crystal would be exposed in minutes. The Grandmasters would know for sure they had an enemy in Lirial.

She could wait no longer. She couldn’t let the Enosh Travelers find the crystal, and she couldn’t fight them both, not armed as they were with star-nets. Lirial was not a combat-oriented Territory; legend held that Lirial Travelers had once been scouts and watchful sentinels, protecting and spying for the Elysian Travelers of old. Certainly, the Lirial powers she knew focused on the gathering and preserving of information, not anything destructive.

Star-nets, supposedly, were something else. They were rare—expensive and difficult to make, even for the ancient Daniri race—and used only as a last resort. Unfortunately, that meant that either of those Travelers would be more than a match for her in an open battle.

She could use her crown. With that, she could perhaps kill or capture both enemies before it came to a battle. That meant two star-nets for her collection, which would most likely put her in contention with Grandmaster Lirial and Overlord Belanine for the title of most powerful Lirial Traveler in the world.

No, it was too risky. She had to be close to use the crown, and she would have to phrase her command perfectly. Plus, as an artifact of Ragnarus, it was difficult to summon here, and it might prove to be unexpectedly weak. Artifacts of one Territory often weakened or failed entirely when taken to a foreign Territory. In the worst-case scenario, one of the Travelers down below would sense her summoning the crown and attack before she had a chance to get close enough.

Leah leaned back over the cliff, and couldn’t stop a gasp. Shifting moonlight gleamed off of a crystal in the dust, directly between both Enosh Travelers. If either one turned around, they couldn’t fail to notice.

She had to solve the problem now, and she had to rely on her Lirial powers. Which, unfortunately, meant that she had to deplete her Source even further.

Reluctantly, Leah reached out her mind to her sanctum and
pulled
.

Hundreds of miles away, hidden in a crack between cliffs, Leah’s sanctum sat tucked away. It was protected by a handful of false entrances and dozens of the most devious traps that Leah could devise. Within that narrow space, only the size of a single room, rested Leah’s collection of artifacts.

She could only summon items from her sanctum; that was one of the restrictions placed on Lirial Travelers. She could also only summon them when she was outside the Territory. Within the confines of Lirial, she had to walk into her sanctum and physically pick up anything she wished to use. Most Travelers had this restriction; it was a generally accepted rule in Traveler theory that physical transposition could only take place between two different realms.

Fortunately, every rule had its exceptions.

A four-pointed crystal star shimmered and appeared in Leah’s palm, like a mirage suddenly made solid. It shone with a steady light as though it were a star in truth, though not so bright.

Leah’s Source. This was the only thing she could summon within Lirial, as—in some way she didn’t understand—this crystal was linked to her very essence. With time and concentration, she could funnel her body’s energy into the crystal, building it up. The Source would store and convert the force, allowing her to summon and empower Lirial devices.

The energy also happened to work as a wonderful currency.

Leah closed her eyes and mentally seized power from her Source, casting it out like a farmer casting seed to attract birds. When she peeked at the star-shaped crystal, it had dimmed noticeably. If it went entirely dark, she would barely be able to do anything worthwhile. Even opening a Gate would take twice as long.

For two or three minutes, nothing happened. Leah watched the Enosh Travelers down below, her skin tingling, her breath coming too quickly. Any second, they could notice. All it would take was for one of them to turn around.

Then she felt a vibration in her mind, like a fishing line quivering when the bait has been taken. She turned around, to see who—or what—had decided to come for her bait.

A bluish creature loped up from behind her, leaning on its knuckles to run like a great ape. It was entirely hairless, covered in skin of a faint blue. As it got closer, she could tell that it had tufts of fur sticking out at the wrists and ankles, and above the ears. Closer still, and she could see its six eyes: it had three sets, arranged on top of one another. One pair of eyes was blue, one white, and one seemed to be green.

Leah would have groaned, but she had a long habit of controlling her reactions. She had met this creature before.

“Heiress Leah,” he said, bowing before her. The movement was strangely graceful, despite the fact that he had to lean on his knuckles to do it. “It has been too long.”

“I don’t have time for this, Seliethin,” Leah said. She gestured to the edge of the cliff. “I need your assistance.”

Seliethin’s three sets of eyes blinked one at a time: first the top set, then the middle, then the bottom, in quick succession. He loped easily up to the cliff and leaned over, taking a look.

“Aaaahhh,” he breathed. “The crystal is yours, I presume. And the Travelers unfriendly?”

“Can you retrieve the crystal?” Leah asked. The less he knew about her plans, the better.
 

Seliethin chuckled. “If a fair price is paid.”

Leah held up her Source in one hand, but she held her other palm up in warning. “I have conditions. You must only take—”

The six-eyed creature ignored her. He reached out one thick, three-fingered hand, grasping Leah’s Source. Leah jerked her hand back, trying to pull the crystal out of Seliethin’s grip, but he was far too strong.

All six of Seliethin’s eyes closed, and he inhaled deeply. The light in the four-pointed crystal dimmed, then dimmed again. In seconds, it seemed as if there was a white candle barely flickering in the crystal’s depths.

Seliethin released his grip, and Leah immediately banished the Source back to her sanctum.

“How
dare
you,” she said, feeling both incensed and violated. The Source was personal. Too personal to let him
grab
, certainly. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t trap you here until you rot?”

The side of Seliethin’s mouth quirked up, showing his amusement. “For one thing, because I have the majority of your power now. I doubt there’s anything you could do to me that I couldn’t undo.”

Briefly, Leah considered summoning her crown and teaching him just how wrong he was.

“Ultimately, though,” Seliethin went on, “it’s because you need me. And now, dear Heiress, I am at your disposal.”

The blue ape bowed once again, one hand against the ground to keep him from falling over, the other crossed politely in front of his chest. Where had he learned courtly manners in this gray desert?

“Get the crystal, Seliethin,” Leah said. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Without another word, Seliethin turned and loped away.

In the distance, a crystal formation shattered like dropped glass. The Enosh Travelers both whipped around to face the noise, the crystals floating behind them spinning like wagon wheels.

Behind them, at the base of the cliff on which Leah rested, another crystal shattered. They spun in her direction.

Then the ground began to shake, sending sand bouncing into the air. A voice boomed out from nowhere, chanting in an ominous language that Leah couldn’t identify.

Bolts of white light, like miniature stars, shot out from the crystals behind the Enosh Travelers. The lights blasted forward in a string, but the Travelers had no target. The shots detonated against a cliff in the distance.

Leah couldn’t help but admire Seliethin’s work. She had no idea what kind of Lirial Traveling would make the ground shake like this.

But how was this supposed to get her crystal? The two Travelers had been distracted, but they were actually backing towards each other instead of running off, moving even closer to Leah’s hidden surveillance crystal. How did Seliethin intend to separate them?

Leah felt a finger tapping her on the shoulder and she spun around, calling power from her Source.

Seliethin stood behind her, his six eyes blinking randomly, holding a crystal out to her in his open palm.

“How…?” Leah began, but she couldn’t finish the sentence.

The bluish ape executed a smooth bow, the crystal still extended. “A gentleman must have his secrets.”

***

Back in her Enosh rooms, Leah placed the recording crystal in the center of her bed. Then she drew in one deep breath, and called power from her Source.

In her mind, she saw the Source’s light sinking to dangerous levels, but she couldn’t afford to be stingy now. She
had
to know what the Grandmasters had discussed, even if it turned out to be just a routine budget meeting.

Sparked by power from her source, the crystal flared to life. It worked something like a shard of her scrying crystal, though not quite as convenient. Within the confines of the plum-sized slice of crystal, an image bloomed. The surface of the crystal wasn’t big enough to see the whole room, and it could only watch from one angle: the place where the Lirial Gate would have opened. Unfortunately, in this case, it turns out the Lirial Gate would have opened slightly behind and below Grandmaster Asphodel’s chair.

Leah was treated to a grand view of the soft, round Grandmaster shifting position in her chair, scratching the back of her head, and sighing in frustration or boredom.

Her point-of-view shifted steadily, drifting from right to left at a snail’s pace. Every few seconds, the picture would fuzz out to silver dust, and then re-form. That was due to the shifting interference of Lirial’s moons, she was sure.

But the problems with the image scarcely mattered. The crystal had also captured sound, so now she could hear the Grandmasters’ meeting in full.

Only a few minutes into the recording, she found herself stunned.

They’re going to attack,
she thought. She had to act.

She pressed a hand against the wall and reached into herself, into her blood, stoking the power there until her hand started to burn.

Then she reached out to Ragnarus.

The Gate to the Crimson Vault tore itself open on the wall, looking out into a familiar set of silver doors. The bearded, one-eyed old man glared at her from the doors, the unnatural red torches to either side giving his face a bloody cast. Even the edge of the Ragnarus Gate glowed slightly red, where the image of the Crimson Vault ended and the mundane wall began.

Leah hesitated at the Gate. She could only Travel through Ragnarus in one direction: to her father’s palace in Cana, capital of Damasca. No matter where you entered the Crimson Vault, you could only exit into Cana. She would have to use Lirial to return here, which meant a risk. Sometimes, the journey would take seconds. If she was impossibly lucky, the Gate for Cana and for her room in the Grandmasters’ palace would be only two steps apart. She would enter Lirial, walk two steps, and then open a Gate back.

However, the moons shifted. It was just as likely that the two points would be a hundred miles apart, in which case she would have to either wait until the moons shifted into a more favorable position—which could take several nights—or take a horse from Cana’s stables and just ride normally to Enosh.
That
would raise a few questions.

This is more important
, Leah told herself firmly. She stepped forward into Ragnarus and, before she could reconsider, let the Gate close behind her. Then she turned, putting her back to the silver doors.

Odd sounds came from behind her, within the Vault: a sort of scratching, tapping sound, like a dozen spiders skittering across stone, and a howling like distant wind. She had to fight the urge to turn back around; the Gate wouldn’t work if she tried to open it while facing the Vault proper.
 

But facing back the other way was worse. There was no cavern wall behind her, just an empty stretch of darkness. Unexpected smells drifted on the lazy air: one puff of wind brought the smell of ice, another was tinged with rotting vegetables, and she thought she smelled something like the musk of a huge animal. Being here was always confusing, and never comfortable. Best to move on.

Unfortunately, tearing a Gate out always took longer than the Gate in. Almost a full minute after she had started concentrating, the Gate slowly tore itself open, and she looked out onto her father’s palace.

More specifically, she looked out onto the Blue Room. Queen Cynara, who had originally commissioned this palace, had apparently thought that returning Ragnarus Travelers would need a break from all of that uninterrupted red, so she made sure that this room—ready to receive returning royal Travelers—was completely blue.

Blue stone pillars stood at the corners of the room, and the tiles underfoot bore a pattern like the tropical ocean, shifting from shades of green to a deep, almost purple, blue. The ceiling above was painted like a summer sky, with even hints of clouds forming near the walls. Two attendants, both wearing blue instead of the normal red-and-gold palace uniform, stepped forward. One offered Leah a clean towel to wipe off her face and hands after her journey, and the other bore a pitcher of water. As soon as she stepped through the Gate, he poured her a glass.

A visitor wouldn’t be able to tell, but both servants were actually low-ranking Travelers, probably from Tartarus or Asphodel. They were stationed here for two reasons: their primary purpose was to force back any enemies that somehow managed to infiltrate the palace through Ragnarus. It had never happened, but paranoia had proved itself a healthy habit over Damasca’s three-and-a-half century reign.