Hanns had collapsed.
Brandt stood and rushed to the emperor. Hanns still breathed, but he came back to consciousness slowly. When his eyes met Brandt’s, they were alert and aware.
“Her attacks grow in strength.”
Brandt helped Hanns back to sitting, then gave the emperor some distance. “What can we do?”
“I need to fight her, push her back from trying to influence our gate.”
“Can you?”
“There is no choice. She attacks my connection to the gate. If it fails, the empire will fall as well.” Hanns took a deep breath. “Will you aid me? You have fought her once before. Your presence might make a difference.”
Brandt’s jaw clenched as he thought of his last battle with the queen. “In that same space?”
The emperor heard the concern in Brandt’s voice. “I’m afraid so, yes.”
“I’m not sure how much use I can be to you. If not for Alena, I would have given myself to the queen.”
“You’re still tied to her, are you not?”
“You can tell?” Brandt hadn’t mentioned it to Hanns.
“I can. If you wish, I think your connection would allow her to take part in our endeavor as well.”
Brandt didn’t want to return. The dreamscape he’d last fought the queen in still haunted his memories. That fight took place in a world he didn’t understand. “Is there anyone else who could do it? Wouldn’t Regar be a better choice?”
The emperor shook his head. “Regar might be stronger, but I can’t risk him becoming entangled with the gate. It needs to be you or no one at all.”
Brandt closed his eyes and tried to master his fear. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to Alena as well.”
“Good.” Hanns stood, his feet unsteady. “Tomorrow, then, or the day after. I’ll let you know. I’ll need my rest tonight, and we should put affairs in order in case the worst should befall us.”
Brandt’s eyes widened at that. He knew the danger he faced, but for some reason it hadn’t occurred to him the emperor would be putting his own life at risk.
Knowing he would fight next to Hanns gave him strength.
He hoped it would be enough. Because if they failed, the empire might lose Emperor Anders VI.
8
Jace’s sparring match against the rider earned him the goodwill of the border patrol. The riders accompanied them, and Jace amused them all with his rough attempts at communicating in Etari. Most of the riders spoke at least some imperial, though, so the language barrier wasn’t insurmountable.
If anything, Jace’s entrance into the world of the Etari was smoother than Alena’s. He was a warrior, a profession given more respect in Etari culture than thief, the only profession Alena claimed when she first crossed the border. Every night, while Alena and Ligt prepared the meal, Jace and the riders would spar, both open-handed and with wooden sticks. Jace’s skill earned him respect overnight that Alena had fought for years to obtain.
He’d worked hard for his skills and she couldn’t begrudge him using those skills to his advantage, even if she occasionally felt a pang of jealousy at the ease with which he inserted himself into the other half of her life.
When she wasn’t jealous, though, it warmed her heart to see Jace with the Etari. He no longer held them in contempt, and she guessed he’d be disappointed when their path parted from that of the border riders. For most of the last ten years of her life, she’d thought of herself as being torn between two worlds. Watching Jace form new friendships changed her mind. He was a bridge between Landow and Etar, and he reminded her they were all part of one much larger world.
That night they sat together around a fire, the group watching Jace with bemused expressions as they tested some of his Etari hand signs. As she laughed, Alena felt a tug near the base of her skull.
She closed her eyes and fell into a soulwalk, the process almost as natural as breathing to her now.
Brandt.
Alena took a deep breath and focused her attention. Distance wasn’t completely irrelevant while soulwalking, but it didn’t separate souls the same way it did bodies. She visualized herself running along the thread that connected them. The soulwork at the Etari border slowed her for a moment, but then she was through. She found Brandt and created a space for them to meet.
As she usually did, she chose her family’s kitchen. It was a room she knew well, one she could summon with little effort. And it brought her comfort. Brandt appeared within the kitchen, standing. He looked around, gaining his bearings.
“It always smells like bread here.”
Alena smiled at the comment. “It’s not intentional, but my mother grew up in a family of bakers. She bakes fresh bread several times a week, and I guess the smell must be ingrained in my memories.”
Brandt’s eyes became unfocused and Alena felt a ripple pass through her illusion. Brandt remembered something, the memory threatening the safe space she’d created. Fortunately, a small effort on her part dispelled Brandt’s interference. In a fight, he could beat her a dozen ways before she could blink. But here, the power was hers.
“Sorry,” Brandt said. “I was thinking of our fight with the queen. Was there a smell then?”
“Not one that I remember.”
“Me neither.” He paused, lost in thought. Then he sat down and explained why he had called for her. Alena listened, then sat in silence as she considered Brandt’s request for aid.
“When?” she asked.
“Soon. Tomorrow or the day after.”
The timing worked out well enough. Ligt said it would take them another four days of travel to reach Sooni. Alena realized she hadn’t spoken to Brandt about her own movement and the problems with the Etari gate, and did so then.
“It can’t be a coincidence,” Brandt said.
Alena nodded.
“I’m glad your brother is
