House of Blades Read online

Alin hugged the ground for almost a full minute after the flood of arrows had stopped, shaking against the cold stone floor between the gates. Was Rhalia trying to get him killed?

  “I thought you said it was safe!” Alin said. Fear made his voice several shades higher than normal.

  Rhalia floated over to the open box and did a little pirouette on top of it. “Safe? I don’t think I said that. It’s pretty dangerous here.”

  Alin nearly choked. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’ve got some bad news for you, Alin,” Rhalia said. “None of the Territories are safe. You want to Travel, you’re going to have to risk it.”

  He stayed on the floor, thinking. The danger didn’t sound great, but then again, he had seen what Travelers could do. If he only had to take a few risks for that kind of power, that was a cheap price.

  Still, he would either have to get Rhalia talking or else find a more reliable guide. He couldn’t risk running into a wall of arrows one more time.

  Climbing to his feet, Alin brushed his clothes off again. They were gaining quite a collection of stains. “So what do I do with that?” he asked, gesturing to the box.

  Rhalia smiled innocently. “Who knows? You might try and learn to summon it.”

  “Really?” Alin perked up at the thought. The ability to call up a volley of golden arrows out of nowhere sounded like the kind of thing Travelers were supposed to be able to do. “How do I do that?”

  The golden-haired woman waved his question away. “I’ll teach you eventually, but there are more important things to see to. The box is just one little thing, just something to help you out if you need it. There are far more impressive powers in Elysia. Like Keanos, here.”

  The dog let out another ringing bark.

  “And you?” Alin asked. “What if I summoned you?”

  “Oh yeah, that could be fun!” Rhalia spun a lazy backflip in the air over Alin’s head. “I haven’t been to the outside world in ages and ages!” Then she drifted around to face Alin and shrugged. “But I can’t help you much, I don’t think. I can’t fight. I’m just supposed to be your guide around the city. Test you and see if you’re ready, that sort of thing.”

  “Test me?” Alin asked. He didn’t much like the sound of that, especially not after he had just been attacked by a deadly arrow-trap. He edged a little farther from the open box.

  “Yeah!” Rhalia responded cheerily. She twirled in place, letting her white dress spin out. All of her motion was starting to make Alin dizzy. “Every Territory does that, in one way or another. You’ve got to prove you’re worth it.”

  “So what do you test?” Alin asked.

  “Your virtues,” Rhalia responded. She held out her hand, and a golden orb—like the one Alin had thrown at Cormac—appeared in her palm. She tossed it up into the sky, where it streaked away like a shooting star.

  “Here, try one of those.”

  Alin called a ball of golden light and threw it into the sky. His power felt easier to call here, somehow closer. Well, he supposed it made sense; he was calling power from Elysia, after all. It stood to reason that it would be easier to do while standing in Elysia itself.

  “Well done!” Rhalia said. “That gold light is the reward for valor. You have to be really courageous to call that from the City. Did you risk your life to defend somebody else?”

  Alin stood a little straighter, pride filling him, and nodded. He had stood up against the Damascan Traveler because no one else would or could, but he had been terrified. It was nice to hear someone tell him he had been courageous.

  “Then you’re well on your way!” Rhalia said cheerily. “Selflessness is the key to most Elysian virtues. It’ll take you far.”

  “Most?” Alin asked, suddenly eager. “There are others?”

  Suddenly Rhalia’s golden eyes were inches from Alin’s own. He stepped back, but she just drifted after him. “How patient are you?” she asked.

  “What?” Alin responded.

  She didn’t say anything, just floated in his face.

  Seconds passed. She said nothing. Was she waiting on him?

  “I guess I’m—”

  “Not very patient,” Rhalia said with a sigh. Then she poked him in the ribs. Hard.

  “Ouch,” Alin said, rubbing his ribs. “What was that—”

  She poked him again, harder.

  “Stop it!”

  Rhalia poked him again, and Alin pushed her hand away.

  “Will you stop that!” Alin demanded.

  Rhalia sighed and drifted away as if carried off by a gentle wind. “You should keep a lid on that temper, you know. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

  “Wait...are you testing me? Right now? Are these the tests?”

  Rhalia held up both hands and moved them up and down, as though weighing something. “They could be. It’s more like...if you prove yourself worthy anywhere, you’ve been tested. But let’s talk about that later!”

  She floated over and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the gates of Elysia. “For now, since you’ve earned the gold, you’re allowed inside the gold section of the city. It’s amazing! You’re going to love it!”

  Alin followed along, letting her pull him inside the shining gates. “Are there going to be more traps in here?”

  Rhalia laughed. “Who knows? But I promise, this will be good for you.”

  He walked forward, taking in the wonders of Elysia with half a mind. But the other half was already imagining how he could put his powers to work, and what wonders still awaited him inside.

  More than anything he’d ever dreamed of before, that was for sure. What would Leah say if she could see him now?

  CHAPTER NINE:

  DEALS AND DARKNESS

  After a few moments of walking in silence, Simon decided to risk a question. “You know me, but I don’t know you. What is your name?” He almost added “sir,” but he still wasn’t quite sure the Nye had males and females. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, either.

  “I am the Eldest of my kind,” the hunched Nye said, in a voice like a death rattle. “That is my title, and now my name. Eldest I am, and Eldest I am called, until my life leaves me and another takes up the title.” The Eldest flowed forward as he spoke, speaking as if in meditation but setting a pace that Simon had to jog to match. The other two Nye took strides just as if there were actually men inside those black wrappings.

  Simon pulled himself up the ladder as soon as he reached it, the light at the top giving him more relief than he would have expected. The Nye stood at the bottom of the ladder, and Simon assumed they would climb up after him.

  Then he passed through the trap door at the top and into the circular room above. The Eldest and his two attendants stood above, staring down at him.

  Simon glanced into the hole, then back up.

  “That’s just frightening,” he said.

  The Eldest ignored him, but began walking into the hallway. “What has Kai told you of our history?”

  Simon scurried after the Nye. “You mean the history of the House? Not much. Nothing, really.”

  “For generations beyond remembering, Valinhall has been as it is: separate. Alone. Its own world. Legends say that, in a time before, we were more than we are. We had cities, trees, a sun. Like your own world. But that world was broken, this House one of the shards. The shard drifted into the nothing beyond all worlds, and as it drifted, faded. Became weaker. This I myself watched happen, but we could do nothing. For many long years, we did nothing but watch.”

  The Eldest stared into the distance as though staring back into an age long past. Simon got the impression that when the Eldest said “many long years,” he meant many years indeed. Centuries may have passed as the Territory fell into decline.

  “Then the Wanderer came,” the Nye Eldest said. His scratchy voice held a note of awe. “I was in my prime then, and I was there to witness his arrival. He fell in the entry hall with a flash of
light and a great roar; not as if he came willingly, but as if he was cast here from another place. He stayed long with us. Over time, he mastered many of the first rooms and ventured deep into the House, where even we of the Nye do not go. Valinhall’s powers are too strange and unshaped in its far reaches, and not even the boldest of the Nye dare to venture too deep. But the Wanderer did.

  “He gathered much power and knowledge, and gained the respect of many of the House’s inhabitants. It would not be wrong to say that he ruled the House during that time. He brought to us a life that we had long lacked, and just as important, he gave us a name.”

  The Eldest stopped as they stepped into the entry hall, with its mirrors and couches. And the wooden sword racks on the wall, three of them holding long, slightly curved blades. “Among men, the Wanderer was known as Valin. When he claimed this House as his own, he gave it a name: Valin’s Hall. Valinhall. But he was not satisfied. Using the books collected here, along with his own knowledge, he fashioned a key to open a Gate between his world—your world—and this one.”

  The Eldest sighed. “We tried to stop him from leaving. I tried, and many others tried with more power and skill than I, but nothing worked. He talked or dodged or cut his way through and returned to his own world. We thought we were doomed to fade once more.

  Then, only a few short years later, he returned. This time, he brought twelve young humans with him. He would train them in the powers of this Territory, he said. He wanted to make them into a true force. An army of dragons, he called them. And to each Dragon he gave a Fang.”

  The Eldest sighed in remembrance, and he lifted a shrouded hand up to the swords on the wall. That was why they were in the entry hall, Simon realized: because the unused swords were stored here.

  “So these swords...” Simon began, but he trailed off, not sure how to continue.

  “They are keys to the House, forged by the Wanderer himself and presented to the twelve original soldiers of the Dragon Army. Kai was one of them.”

  In their wooden racks—two rows of six, hung on each wall—the blades almost looked lonely. Of the twelve racks, only three were filled. With Azura, that meant only four of the swords remained in Valinhall. Simon wasn’t sure why that was significant, but he sensed that the missing swords struck near the core of the Eldest’s story.

  And this gave Simon the answer to another question he had buried since Kai agreed to train him. Twelve, plus this Wanderer. That meant that of the twelve other Valinhall Travelers besides Kai, one of them had saved his life on a rainy day over ten years earlier.

  Simon tucked that information away for future use.

  “So what did this...’Dragon Army’ do?” Simon asked.

  “That is Kai’s story to tell you, if he wishes,” the Nye responded. “I can only tell you mine.” He let his shrouded hand rest on the back of a cloth-wrapped hilt. “And I tell you, we thought we were restored when the Wanderer arrived. But it was nothing compared to what we gained when twelve young, healthy humans stayed and trained here. Called this place their home. The whole Territory sang with life, as it had not in my whole memory or the memories of my fathers.”

  The Nye Eldest’s black hood swiveled to fix Simon with a stare. “Now, the Dragon Army is broken and scattered. Only four of the thirteen swords remain in use. The others are lost in your world, or are deliberately sealed to keep them from returning here.”

  He returned his hands to each resting in the opposite sleeve, and he remained hunched over. But when he spoke, it sounded like a vicious threat. “We will not fade once again, Simon son of Kalman. We will not. Our power is declining, but now that we have had a taste of life, we will not give it up.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Simon noticed the two Nye guards slipping up behind him to take a stance at either shoulder. The Eldest stood in front of him, the only exit behind. Simon’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, in the sheath at his belt. If they meant to force something from him, he might have to fight his way clear.

  From behind him, cloth rustled and chains clinked softly. He knew he did not have much chance. For the second time that day, Simon grew certain that he was going to die.

  He was almost used to the feeling by now.

  “I would make a pact with you, son of Kalman,” the Eldest said. “You seek the powers of this house. Well, I say to you that the House of Valinhall has many gifts, some of which are mine to pass on.”

  Hope rose in Simon’s chest, though sweat condensed on the grip of his sword. It was possible, just barely, that he might be able to walk away from this with the very thing he wanted.

  “I will give you some of the gifts you seek. More, I will give you the chance to earn one of the Dragon’s Fangs, that you may call upon Valinhall’s power in the outside world.”

  “You know, my father had a saying,” Simon said. “The most beautiful gift is the one that hides a trap. What do you want from me, Eldest?” Defying the leader of the Nye terrified him, but he thought it was better to appear strong. Even if it was just a front.

  The Eldest’s voice scraped like flint on gravel, but it was firm. “I ask for you to restore the power of my home. The lost keys—the eight missing Dragon’s Fangs—must be returned, but that is not the last of it. This House needs students. Perhaps even objects of power collected from other Territories.” The Eldest waved a black-sleeved arm dismissively, as if to say that was a matter for another time.

  “I will not tell you lies: this task will last for the rest of your life. But what does that concern you? I will lead you to power, and you may use it however you wish, so long as I gain what I want. We would gain power for our people, son of Kalman. And once you are a Traveler of Valinhall, our power is your own.”

  Think it through, Simon told himself. The Nye didn’t care what happened to Simon, he was sure, so long as the Territory ended up the richer. The deal looked good on the surface, but what were the hazards? There was no such thing as a free deal; Simon had learned that early on when trying to trade for his mother’s drink and herbs. There had to be some hook to go with the bait.

  The problem was that he had no way to see it. He simply didn’t know enough. If Kai were around, he would have asked, but his mentor had left him to fend for himself. Speaking of Kai, though...

  “Have you offered Kai this deal?” Simon asked.

  “Of course,” the Eldest rasped. “As one of the last loyal members of the Dragon Army, he was our best hope for restoration. But Kai does not seek power. He fears it, as the candle’s wick fears the flame.”

  So Kai had turned the Eldest down. And Kai had lived in this Territory practically his whole life. If he had not accepted the deal, then Simon probably shouldn’t either.

  The Eldest appeared to have seen the decision in Simon’s face, because he casually said, “One more thing, of course. If you refuse me now, you will have rejected the friendship of the Nye. You are still a guest of this House, so we will not kill you outright, but you will have no friends among us.”

  Simon considered that, but it didn’t seem too bad. Not much worse than what he had lived through already. Still, he could always accept and then break his agreement. The Nye surely had little or no power in the world outside Valinhall.

  “Then again, if you accept my deal and then betray us...” The Eldest spread his sleeves out in a shrug. “You will wish for a merciful death. So, son of Kalman, do you want me for a friend?”

  Simon heard the rattle of chains again behind him, and did not need to turn around to know that the two taller Nye were readying their weapons. Without thought, he pulled his sword an inch out of its scabbard. His head whirled with ideas, but his thoughts were clouded by fear. Any moment he expected to feel a cold length of black chain around his neck once more.

  He was sure there was some danger he couldn’t see, and perhaps Kai would tell him not to do this. But he was determined to do whatever it took to personally bring the people of Myria home.

&n
bsp; Leah. What would she say, when she saw him free her with the power of a Traveler?

  “Give me your power, Eldest,” Simon said. “I accept your deal.”

  The two guards behind him went down to one knee again, like they had when the Eldest had first appeared. Simon heard a rush through the House, as if Valinhall itself had let out a great breath.

  The Nye Eldest’s face remained shrouded, of course, but Simon got the impression that he smiled. “I am gladdened. Since you have made the right choice, I will give you the gift I promised.”

  The Eldest unfolded his arms and held one out toward Simon. From the end of the sleeve stuck out a black wooden box. Simon took it—it was about the size of his two hands together, but suspiciously light—and opened it. It was empty.

  “The Nye are not now what we once were,” the Eldest said, “but we have some powers. The grace to move swiftly, to walk unseen, to run lightly. Let us show you the power of Valinhall.”

  And a blue-white cloud, like a swirl of moonlit smoke, poured from the Eldest’s hood and pooled in the center of the wooden box. Simon started and almost dropped the box in his shock, but he managed to keep his grip. The dark wood of the box was now lit by a cloud of dim blue-white light that darted around like a fish trying to escape a pond.

  From either side of him, two other flows of light joined the first, startling Simon as they drifted into view. The other two Nye had joined their power with the Eldest’s, and now it was as though he held a box full of bright, vivid moonlight.

  “Breathe it in, son of Kalman,” the Nye Eldest said softly. “This is the core of what makes the Nye. Our essence.” He sounded out of breath, as though producing the light had taken something from him.

  Before he could think too much about it, Simon inhaled. The pale light rose from the box and shot toward his face. He flinched backward instinctively, but the light followed, pouring into his mouth and nostrils, filling his head with icy cold, expanding as it flowed down his throat, into his lungs. His lungs felt like they were filled to bursting with fresh, cold air. Then the feeling dissipated into his flesh, until everything from the depths of his chest to the tips of his fingers felt chilled from the inside out.