The Crimson Vault Part 25

Rhalia popped back into the room, saw what he was doing, and sighed good-naturedly.

"I just can't keep you from going where you're not supposed to, can I?" she said.

Alin gestured to the door. "But I can open it! Look!"

"Of course you can," she said. "The doors aren't locked."

"Oh."

Rhalia floated over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders companionably. "Listen. I don't try and keep you from these districts because you can't enter, but because you shouldn't enter. It's not that we require you to show a particular virtue before we allow you to use a power. It's more like you need a particular virtue to handle that power. The gold power is for battle, for instance, and we wouldn't want anyone in battle who wasn't brave. Likewise, patient people make good defenders. Do you see?"

It seemed like a pretty weak thread to Alin. "What happens if I don't have the virtue? What if I walked through this door right now?"

"That particular door? The gnomes who live on the other side would likely beat you and toss you back out," Rhalia said. "But in general, we don't stop people from taking power they think they've earned. We're trying to help you make the right choices, not make them for you. But, eventually, if you take too much power too quickly...you stop controlling the power, and it starts controlling you."

Rhalia's voice got suddenly distant and more serious at the end, as though she were reliving a particularly unpleasant memory.

"What does that mean?" Alin asked.

"You become an Incarnation," Rhalia said, still distant. "Little more than an embodiment of your Territory's nature and power."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Alin responded. "The embodiment of patience and mercy and all that."

Rhalia raised a hand to her forehead. "We didn't think so either, once," she said. Then she shook herself and smiled at him. "Anyway, you're gathering powers pretty quickly yourself. Especially if I decide to grant you permanent access to the rose, which I have not decided yet. You have to be careful."

Alin nodded. He certainly had no wish to risk going insane, and if Rhalia thought the danger was so great, he was sure she knew what she was talking about.

As they walked into the Rose District, Alin nodded to the small white door.

"What about that one?" Alin asked. "I've heard you mention the other colors, but I've never heard you talk about the white."

Rhalia laughed. "Still curious, are you? The white's something of a special case. It is linked to Ragnarus, the Crimson Vault. Just as Ragnarus promotes sacrifice, the White District requires you to demonstrate the attendant virtue. It's the opposite of Ragnarus, the one virtue required to use the Vault's weapons with wisdom and discipline."

"What's that?" Alin asked.

"Selflessness," she responded. "Self-sacrifice. Ragnarus Travelers have a tendency to pay the prices for their weapons using other people; if a weapon activates using pain, for instance, why not torture one of your enemies until your weapon drinks its fill? Why not bleed a peasant dry to use a sword that drinks blood?"

"Or kill your citizens to keep your Tree growing," Alin said.

"Precisely."

"I'm not sure what good the white power would do, though," Alin noted. "Especially not if you have to sacrifice yourself to use it."

Rhalia shrugged. "No, it's not like that. Self-sacrifice is more often the practice of thinking of others first. You don't have to necessarily give up your life; in the old days, some of the greatest masters of the white sacrificed their time, their money, or their freedom for others. Selflessness is basically the keystone to all of our virtues here."

Alin looked at the white door for a moment longer before he headed into the Rose District, his questions*for now*answered.

Rhalia could say what she wanted, but Alin thought he would save the white door for last.

Simon said nothing, just moved his gaze from Leah to the King and back. Part of his mind had frozen from shock, but the part that still worked noted that this actually explained quite a bit.

The King's blue eye was cold. "I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on," he said. "Before I leave you to discuss...whatever you must discuss, you should hear my words. You are a wanted criminal in my lands."

Simon jerked his head back to look King Zakareth in the face. He was less surprised by the announcement than he was by the fact that the King himself knew what he had done.

Zakareth misinterpreted his reaction. "Surprised? You shouldn't be. You killed fifty-three of my subjects that I am aware of. In another situation, I would have you bound and executed."

If anyone makes a move, I will warn you, Angeline sent. Be prepared to run.

For once, Simon was glad that he was carrying a serious and straightforward doll instead of one p.r.o.ne to making jokes.

"I am prepared to grant you mercy, however," the King went on. His eyes, blazing red and ice-cold blue, looked anything but merciful. "Serve me in protecting my realm, and I will commute your sentence until such a time as we are prepared to judge you for your actions. If you wish leniency, I suggest you dedicate your life to the service of my realm."

He stared at Simon with those disconcerting eyes, obviously expecting a response.

"Yes, Your Highness," Simon said at last, dropping his gaze to the ground. He had considered any number of other reactions, but what else was one supposed to say to the king?

King Zakareth turned as though the matter was fully dealt with, not acknowledging Simon's response in anyway. He walked away, already deep in conversation with his son. The Heir turned and regarded Simon once before he walked off, his expression thoughtful, but he ultimately said nothing. Denner and the other Travelers behind him were wrapped up in their own conversation, one that sounded to Simon like strategic planning.

As everyone else pulled away, Leah stayed behind. For a handful of seconds, she said nothing.

"So..." Simon said at last. "You're a princess."

"No. I'm an Heiress. n.o.body says 'princess' anymore except in children's tales." She sounded nervous, more than anything, which meant that she was trying to divert his attention.

Simon refused to be put off. "So," he said. "You're an Heiress."

"I'm King Zakareth's fourth child, yes," Leah said loftily. She was looking at him, but her face was still blank. She was keeping her mask on, so Simon kept his face still as well. He couldn't keep a bit of anger from leaking into his voice, though.

"What does that mean?" he demanded. "Does that mean you're fourth in line for the throne?"

To her credit, Leah hesitated a moment before saying, "Second, actually. It's a bit more complicated than that, but my two older sisters were...disqualified from the succession. One of them is insane, and the other was recently exiled to Lirial. And my younger brother is dead. It's just me and my older brother left, now."

Second. Second in line for the throne of Damasca.

Simon tried to force words out past the emotion in his throat, tried to give voice to everything he was thinking, but all that came out was, "I...we rescued you."

Leah looked past him, but her mask stayed on. "I was never in any danger from Malachi," she said.

A horrible realization dawned on Simon. "It was you. You were the reason that the sacrifice came to Myria. You're why all those people are dead."

Depending on her answer, Simon was quite prepared to summon Azura and cut her down in the street, even if he would not survive her long.

Quickly she said, "No! No, I had no idea Malachi would call the sacrifice in Myria. That's the first time he's ever taken all nine sacrifices from one village, after all. When I found out he had done it, I was furious."

Simon wasn't sure that made her deception any better, but he found his violent fury fading. Just a bit. But something still didn't make sense.

"Why were you in the village at all?" he asked. "Maker, you could have lived your whole life in a palace. You probably grew up there!"

The situation got worse and worse the more he thought about it. What must she have thought of them, living in houses of mud bricks and sc.r.a.p wood? She must have been laughing behind their backs every time they turned around.

Leah looked into Simon's eyes carefully as though trying to rea.s.sure herself that he wasn't going to attack. Then she sighed and grabbed him by the sleeve, leading him over to a pair of benches among the soldiers' camp. The presence of the Valinhall Incarnation had caused the benches to fuse to the ground, now permanent fixtures of the hilltop, but they faced one another. Leah sat down on one and motioned imperiously for him to take the second.

Simon sat, feeling like an idiot. How had he not noticed? She had certainly acted like a princess*or an Heiress, he supposed*often enough, giving people orders and expecting them followed on the instant. Come to think of it, though, her aunt Nurita acted that way as well, and she had lived in Myria all her life. Wait.

Maker, he thought, is she royalty too? He had taken so many a.s.sumptions for granted, and was just now coming face-to-face with reality.

"Every Heir and Heiress," Leah began, "is expected to spend an extended period of time outside of the palace. In some cases that means a handful of months, in others it can be as long as five years. The specifics depend on the individual and the needs of the realm."

The specifics depend on the individual. Who talked like that? Alin, when he was giving a speech, but no other villager Simon had ever met. How had he never noticed?

To cover his thoughts, Simon asked a question: "They just let members of the royal family go off like that, unsupervised? What if you were killed? What if someone found out who you were, and kidnapped you?"

She waved that thought away with one hand. "We were required to check in on a regular basis through Ragnarus. If I missed a check-in, Travelers would have been at my location in a matter of hours. Even if I did die, this is a family tradition. My father believes that no one can be an effective ruler unless they have lived through an especially long and difficult trial. Besides, I know it maybe difficult for you to get used to the idea, but I am a powerful Traveler myself. Killing or kidnapping me would be harder than it seems."

Simon wished he had known that at midsummer, when he risked his life again and again to bring her out of danger.

"In my case," Leah continued, "I was sent to Myria to connect with my mother's family, to learn how my ancestors really lived. Yes, my mother really did come from Myria. Yes, Aunt Nurita was really her sister. For what it's worth, I was honest about that."

a.s.suming I can trust you now, Simon thought. He still only had her word to go on, really.

I would say she's speaking the truth, Angeline said carefully.

Simon had forgotten he was carrying the doll. He picked her up and looked at her curiously. Can you sense when someone is lying? He wouldn't be surprised if she could.

No, Angeline said. But I have a great deal of experience with liars, and this girl sounds genuine to me.

Simon considered that for a moment. As much as he was curious about what Angeline meant, having experience with liars, he felt better. If Angeline could vouch for Leah, then he would accept that. For now.

Leah watched him raise the doll to his face and then place it back down. She didn't say a word.

"This is my advisor," Simon explained. "One of them. From my Territory."

"I had a.s.sumed something like that, of course," Leah said evenly. "If I may continue?"

She was admitting to spending years lying to the people closest to her, and somehow she could still make him feel bad for interrupting.

"Spending time with my mother's family was one reason, learning about the common villagers was another. One can learn a surprising amount about governing even outside the royal palace. But I had another purpose, a deeper purpose, even if I didn't expect ever to accomplish it. We received word from one of our Strigaia tribe Avernus Travelers that the Enosh Grandmasters thought the bloodline of Elysia was continued in one of the villages. Since Myria was the closest village to Enosh, it was...reasonable, based on the information we had, to suspect that the new Elysian Traveler might come from your village."

Alin. Somehow, it always came back to Alin.

"Understand, though, that the odds were greatly against me. There are over a hundred small, isolated villages at the fringes of our nation, and I was only to stay a limited time. I identified Alin as the most likely subject, given his lineage, and I kept an eye on him."

"How long ago?" Simon asked.

Leah shrugged. "Over two years ago, when I first entered the village. It took me a matter of hours. But after observing him for a few weeks, then months, I was certain that he was not the one. He never exhibited any strange powers, never snuck off to Enosh for a secret rendezvous, never received any mysterious visitors. When I ruled him out, I knew that the odds of me finding the Elysian Traveler in Myria were minimal, so I simply kept my ear to the ground, so to speak, and lived my life."

"Of course he never did any of those things," Simon said. "He didn't know he was a Traveler."

Leah sighed. "Yes, Simon, I know that now. But you have to understand: that's not how any of the other Territories work. For every other Territory I know of*even for Valinhall, I understand, though you would know more about that than I*you have to intentionally walk through a Gate to that Territory, earn some kind of artifact, power, or ally on the other side, and then return. It's not something you can do accidentally or unaware. Except apparently, in the case of Elysia, you can."

Simon sat in silence, thinking, chewing on the information she had given him.

Eventually, Leah kept talking. "There's not much else that you don't know, or haven't guessed. When the Damascan troops came to Myria, I was furious. They were interfering with my trial, and with my officially sanctioned mission to locate the potential Elysian Traveler. When I left you, I spoke with the man in charge, and I tried to get them to leave immediately. But Cormac, the Endross Traveler*"

"I remember," Simon interrupted. His voice went flat, and anger surged once again in his chest. He desperately hoped that she didn't have anything to do with sending Cormac into that cave, because if she was responsible for the death of his mother...

He didn't know what the penalty was for killing a member of the Damascan royal family, but he would do his best to find out.

Leah eyed him, and for a moment sympathy cracked through her blank mask. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure you would. Well, he was...unstable. I would almost call him a madman, except that every Traveler is usually broken in some way. It has to do with the stress of living alongside worlds so wholly unlike our own. Anyway, he insisted on checking the survivors, on making sure that there were no Enosh agents among you. He was just supposed to scare you, Simon, I swear it."

Simon stared at Leah, giving her no indication of what he was thinking. He wasn't sure he even knew.

"When he killed Orlina, I almost stopped him. Then Alin revealed himself, and all I remember thinking was that I had failed. I had come that far, spent two years of my life, and he had been right under my nose the entire time."

"Why didn't you show yourself then?" Simon asked. "You could have stopped Cormac. You two would have taken Alin. My mother would have..."

He stopped. He didn't trust himself to keep talking.

Leah's mask crumbled a little further. She almost looked pained. "I wasn't sure what to do, Simon, I'm sorry. To tell you the truth, I thought about it, I just...I didn't know which side I would support. Cormac was insane, true, but he was also the legally appointed representative of Damasca. I didn't know the extent of Alin's abilities*I've heard legends of Elysian Travelers all my life. As far as I knew, he would be able to kill me and Cormac without breaking a sweat. I simply didn't know. I was worried that Enosh might have Travelers in the area, so I was afraid to reveal myself. And, as it turned out, they did."

That all sounded good. It was a better reason than Simon had imagined. But the fact remained that she could have saved Simon's mother, but she had chosen not to.

She would have been captured or killed, Simon told himself. But that didn't matter. He found it hard to defend, even to himself, a girl who had spent the last two years lying to him.

Abruptly Simon stood up and walked past Leah, summoning Azura as he walked. Three Tartarus Travelers, who had been lounging nearby, stiffened and focused their eyes on Simon, silver keys in hand. Maker, they hadn't left her alone with him at all. They had been watching him the entire time.

That just stoked his anger even hotter.

"Where are you going, Simon?" Leah asked. She sounded calm, not curious.

Simon stuck his sword in the air and began slicing through reality. "Valinhall Gates only go in one direction," he responded. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I took a beating today from an insane Incarnation with powers beyond mortal imagination. I need a little time off."

"I thought we should talk a little more," Leah said gently.

And that was about all Simon could take of the I'm-an-Heiress condescension just then.

Without moving Azura, he turned around so that he could look Leah in the eye. "I'm not one of your subjects, Your Highness. I don't owe you a thing. In fact, the way I see it, the scales are tipping way toward my side just now."

Leah raised one eyebrow and opened her mouth to respond. Whatever she said would probably be way wittier and far more reasonable than anything he could come up with, so he cut her off.

"Don't. I've listened to you long enough."

Then he realized something he had said only a day or two ago. It seemed ironic and twisted to him now. "Maker, I said it myself, didn't I? I said that I wanted to know the real you. I asked for this."

Simon shook his head, turning back to the Gate. "I take it back."