“I am sorry to hear that, Your Grace,” Gabriel said. “You must have loved your husband and son very much to be so wrathful.” He could barely imagine Kumaradevi loving anyone, but he supposed that she could be as possessive about people as she was about things. Kumaradevi opened her mouth as though to respond to Gabriel’s sentiments, but closed it instead. “May I ask where we are in time, Your Grace?” Gabriel said quickly, hoping to change the subject.
“We are in a world of my creating,” Kumaradevi said, “in a branch of time I have made and altered to suit my purposes. It is hidden by magic more powerful than you can imagine, so you need not bother wondering if your friends on the Council will find you. And you need not worry your head with fancies of escape because there are only a handful artifacts still remaining in this world that also exist in the Primary Continuum. As your precious Ohin may have told you, one can only jump between the Primary Continuum and an alternate branch of reality with artifacts that exist in both. So, unless you happen upon a fossil of great age, you will be going where I tell you and when. Now we will cease this pointless distraction and proceed with the act you so obviously dread.”
Raising her hand, lightning leapt forth from Kumaradevi’s palm and crackled through the air, striking the dragon in the center of its scaled brow. The dragon roared with pain, its bellow echoing throughout the palace grounds as it belched a stream of coral-colored fire across the arena, engulfing the prisoners in flame. Gabriel looked away, but Kumaradevi grabbed his jaw in her slender hand and forced him to face the arena. He closed his eyes, but the screams of the prisoners were as bad as what he had seen.
“Open your eyes and look,” Kumaradevi growled. “Look and see what disobedience will bring. While I will not burn you at a stake, I will make branches and branches of time to bring versions of your loved ones here, your mother and father and sister, and I will roast as many of them as it takes to ensure your obedience. Now open your eyes, or you will be dining on the charred carcasses of those three traitors for a month. And do not doubt that I can make you chew and swallow.”
Gabriel opened his eyes, and he looked, and he listened, and he let the flame of hatred in his heart fill him to burn as brightly as the dragon flames sweeping the arena below, consuming everything in their path, just as he hoped his anger would one day consume Kumaradevi. As he glanced aside, he saw Pishara give him a quick look of sympathy that swiftly faded behind a mask of indifference.
Chapter 18: Battles and Honors
Hours later, Gabriel still seethed in silence, following Kumaradevi through the palace from one errand to another. She was a tyrannical ruler, to be sure, but not indolent about it. She personally attended to many of the details that could easily have been delegated to a lesser functionary. It was hours before Gabriel realized why the Empress was so involved in the minutia of running her kingdom: She did not trust anyone else to make the decisions that needed to be made. Whether that was because she had no room for trust in her heart, or because the people who ran her Empire were untrustworthy, Gabriel was not sure. Either way, it was a weakness he could exploit, given time. And it looked as though he would have plenty of time. He could think of no way to jump away from this world of horrors. He was trapped in a bizarre circus where everything was reversed, the clowns bringing tears instead of mirth, the audience suffering instead of laughing.
Finally, when it seemed there were no more documents to sign, no more servants to upbraid, no more soldiers to punish with lashes of a whip, no more engineers to chastise for failure to complete construction of buildings on time, Kumaradevi made an announcement.
“I am hungry,” she said, her voice imperious as ever. “How would you like to see a dragon in battle?”
It took Gabriel a moment to realize that she spoke to him and another second to stop himself from saying what he really wanted to say and frame what he hoped was the proper response. “If it would please you, Your Grace.”
“Then we shall see how my nations fare in the War of the Colors,” Kumaradevi said as the familiar blackness wrapped around her, Gabriel, and all of the attendants. When the whiteness bled away, Gabriel found himself standing on a hilltop overlooking a wide-open plain between a mountain range and a forest. In the valley below battled two armies, one with deep red banners, red armor, and red shields battling another army similarly colored in dark green.
Gabriel could hear the cries of the men even from where they stood on the hilltop nearly a mile away. In the sky above, he could see four dragons clashing in combat, a man strapped to the back of each. The colors of the dragons, like the men, matched the army they defended, two crimson and two green. The beasts snapped at each other as they flew past, diving to strafe the troops of the opposing side with jets of molten hot flame. Even in his darkest dreams, Gabriel had never imagined such a scene of devastation and horror was possible.
Disgusted, he looked away to see Kumaradevi walking toward a large tent, open on all four sides. A meal of various meats and vegetables lay on a long wooden table beneath the canvas canopy. He walked away from the edge of the hillside and joined Kumaradevi at the table. Two men joined them, one clothed in blood red armor and the other in deepest emerald green. Everyone waited until Kumaradevi had been helped into her seat by her attendants before taking their places at the table. Gabriel sat beside Kumaradevi.
The servants quickly filled Kumaradevi’s plate. No one made a move to touch the food on the table. Gabriel kept his hands in his lap. He knew instinctively that his survival, if not the survival of everyone he cared about, would depend upon him watching and learning quickly. Kumaradevi ate in silence, smiling at those around the table as they averted their eyes. Finally, when her plates had been removed, the servants stepped forward to serve the meal, placing sliced roast beef and potatoes upon Gabriel’s plate, along with some green things that he hoped were vegetables.
As those around the table ate, Kumaradevi allowed the two generals to boast of their strategy and what each assured her would be the imminent success of their respective army. “I certainly hope one of you is successful soon,” she said with what might have been a laugh. “I grow weary of this stalemate, and I am sorely tempted to bring the Indigo Army into the fray and force a conclusion.”
Both generals protested that such an action, while surely her prerogative, was wholly unnecessary. Each man vowed to bring the other to heel before her next visit. She said nothing, but graced them each with a smile. Gabriel couldn’t smile. He knew why these armies were slaughtering each other: So Kumaradevi could link more concatenate crystals to the battlefields and weapons and increase her power.
She smiled at the generals once more and then, without warning, she suddenly swept her arms wide and a swift billow of blackness engulfed the table. A burst of white followed and Gabriel, Pishara, and the attendants stood in what Gabriel assumed were Kumaradevi’s personal suites. A series of large rooms, one set for dining, another for sitting, another that seemed to be a library, a fourth that had a large desk in the middle of it, and another with a massive mahogany bed seemingly carved from a single piece of wood.
Kumaradevi swept down the hallway connecting the various rooms and stepped into the writing room. Three men and three women waited for her there, standing at attention. Gabriel got the impression they had been standing in the room for a considerably long time. As he followed Kumaradevi into the room, he noticed the insignias emblazoned on the breasts of the six people standing there. Each one was different. The flame for Fire Magic, a solid red circle for Wind Magic, a tree growing out of a heart for Heart-Tree Magic, an open circle with three wavy lines inside for Earth Magic, a red eye with the center left black, to represent the pupil, for what Gabriel guessed was Soul Magic, and an infinity symbol for Time Magic. He knew who these people were, but Kumaradevi confirmed it as she turned and spoke to him.
“These are your new tutors,” Kumaradevi said, raising her hand to indicate the six black-clad mages. “They will be instructing you in the various magics and how to use them. When you have exhausted their knowledge, I will find more knowledgeable instructors to train you.” She pointed to a tall man with the Time Magic symbol who might have been Indian or Pakistani. “This is Malik,” Kumaradevi said. “He will teach you Time Magic.” She continued around the room. The petite Thai woman, Malee, would teach him Fire Magic. Heinz, the broad shouldered German, Earth Magic. Wind Magic would be taught by the sharp faced Korean woman, Jin. Heart-Tree Magic, by the bone-thin African woman, Malawi. Finally Bob, the slightly overweight American, would teach him Soul Magic. It was like his team from the castle seen through a funhouse mirror. While none of them met Kumaradevi’s gaze, they each stared at him. It gave him an unpleasant feeling in his gut.
“You will begin your training tomorrow in the arena,” Kumaradevi said. “It should be clean by then. You will afford each of your instructors the same courtesy you extend me. If they are unhappy with your performance, I will be unhappy with your performance, and I trust I have made it clear that my happiness is your paramount concern. Tonight you will join me for a state dinner in your honor. Now, go and change into something more befitting the occasion.” With a wave of her hand she dismissed him. Gabriel did not wait for a second dismissal.
“Thank you, Empress,” Gabriel said as he bowed from the waist. He spun smartly on his heel and followed Pishara out the door, trailed in turn by his two bodyguards, Viktor and Seamus. The door closed behind them, though no hand touched it. As he followed Pishara down the hallway and out into the corridor beyond Kumaradevi’s apartments, he tried, as he had all day, to make a mental map of the palace. It would be important to know where things were and how to get to them if he was ever to have any hope of escaping.
Following Pishara, he realized it would be knowledge long in coming. He was already lost, confused by the constant twists and turns of the corridors and the stairs that led up only to lead down again. The palace seemed designed to frustrate easy navigation. Gabriel did not have to wonder whether this was accidental.
When they finally came to the spiral staircase that he knew would lead them to his tower prison, he was almost relieved. At least he had a sense of where he was. The climb up the stairs took much longer than the walk down had earlier that day. By the time they reached the top, Gabriel was well winded, although neither Pishara nor his two bodyguards seemed to be breathing heavily. The two guards still stood on either side of the door to his room. The door to the room was open, but Gabriel could see three large steel bars in brackets bolted to the wall. Each one could slide over to block the door closed. His only hope to escape from the room would have to be through the windows. He wondered how long it would take him to learn to fly and how long it would take to steal an artifact strong enough to manage it.
As he entered the room, he saw that the large copper tub in the corner had been filled with water. Apparently, someone had drawn him a bath. He couldn’t imagine anyone bringing water up those long stairs in buckets, so there must be pipes of some sort in the palace tower. He made a mental note to try to find out where they were. Every little bit of knowledge about the palace could prove useful for an escape.
“You will bathe,” Pishara said. “You will find a long coat in the armoire. I will return for you in one hour to escort you to dinner.” She bowed slightly before pulling the door closed as she left. He could hear the three steel bars swinging into place.
Gabriel collapsed into one of the leather chairs, exhausted. Not from the climb or the day’s events, but from the emotional impact of all that he had seen and heard. He was a prisoner in an alternate world so vile and disgusting that it was hard to comprehend the magnitude of the suffering taking place every moment throughout the land, solely for the purpose of tainting more artifacts and places with negative imprints so that Kumaradevi could amass more power.
Frustrated with himself for letting despair grip him so tightly, Gabriel got up and began to check the room again. Maybe there was something he had missed. Something he could eventually use to escape. There was a small closet hidden behind a tapestry he had missed earlier. It turned out to be a privy. Unfortunately, the stone chute that carried the waste straight down was too small to possibly fit in. He sighed as he realized he had been momentarily excited by the idea of escaping through the sewers.
He took the opportunity to relieve the pressure in his bladder and then continued to examine the room. There was little more he had not noticed that morning. He discovered another small closet hidden behind a tapestry. It was a simple wash room with a small sink and a copper pipe that descended along the wall from the ceiling. At least he knew where the water came from. And if it came from the ceiling, then maybe the top of the tower held a water cistern that could be ruptured to create a diversion at some point. Everything was a potential component of an escape plan.
He examined the windows again, just because it made him feel he was being thorough, but they had no hinges, and he doubted they could be opened without breaking them, which would surely bring the guards. If he could secretly get his hands on an artifact, he could overpower the guards, but where to get an artifact that would not be missed? Maybe he could steal one from one of his tutors. He sighed. Any artifact that went missing in the palace would immediately draw suspicion to him. Realizing there was nothing else he could do, he stripped off his clothes and slid into the tub.
The water was still very warm and must have been near scalding when first poured into the copper basin. He could see a drain at the front of the tub, but did not see how the water could have been heated. Then he remembered where he was. A palace filled with mages. A bar of honey-scented soap sat on the lip of the tub, and he scrubbed himself as he mulled over the twin thoughts that consumed him: where to find an artifact, and how to escape. As he rinsed off, he remembered something that Ohin had said back at the castle. Just thinking of him and the rest of the team, how much he had grown accustomed to them, how much he had come to care for them, nearly drove the idea that had blossomed in his mind straight out of it.