That was another thought he hated. When one died, one went to the gate. Brandt didn’t have to believe. He’d been there, long before. He’d seen the gate awaiting his arrival, had felt its welcoming embrace. But that void knew no death. Time had no meaning. Every heartbeat passed in a moment, yet lasted an eternity. Had they been trapped there, it would have lasted forever.
He owed Alena more than he could repay in a lifetime of service. Ana was sympathetic, but she couldn’t understand. No one who hadn’t been there could.
“From the sound of it,” Ana replied, “If not for Alena the whole expedition would have been a failure.”
She was right about that, too. When they had returned, Hanns was horrified. He hadn’t said anything, but Brandt saw enough to guess. Hanns, with the power of two gates behind him, hadn’t won the small victory they’d achieved. Alena had.
Brandt was proud of Alena, but Hanns’ weakness wounded his confidence. Hanns was supposed to be their best defense against the queen.
Brandt pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, trying to push the thoughts out of his mind. His nightmares would fade. They would find a way to protect the empire.
He had to believe that.
The next morning, a knock interrupted Brandt’s sleep. Ana, already awake, answered the door and accepted a message. She frowned as she looked at it. It bore the emperor’s seal and Brandt’s name. Ana broke the seal and read it.
“The emperor requests our presence for lunch.”
Brandt let out a slow exhale. He’d been expecting a summons, but his stomach still clenched at the thought of facing Hanns again. They hadn’t spoken since the gate.
When the appointed time arrived, they found themselves in a small dining area, a table set for three. Hanns entered last. Brandt studied him. He appeared unharmed, but he refused to meet their gazes. He sat heavily on the final open chair, rubbing his chin before beginning. “I’m sorry.” He held up a hand to forestall objections. “I knew the task would be difficult. I didn’t expect to be overwhelmed so easily.”
Hanns finally looked up. “Have you spoken with Alena?”
Brandt shook his head. When he focused, he could feel the thread between them. But he hadn’t called for her, nor her him. He couldn’t. The idea of being transported into that realm again, even if only to her kitchen, made bile rise in his throat. “She lives. That is all I know.”
“We owe her everything,” the emperor said.
Brandt heard the edge in his ruler’s voice. Apparently he wasn’t the only one unsettled by their encounter.
“Why have you asked us here?” Ana asked.
The question snapped Hanns out of his reverie. “My failure has been instructive. We’ve seen what the queen is capable of. And we know I’m not strong enough. I need another gate.”
“Another gate?” Brandt frowned, trying to remember what the emperor had told them about the gates. He thought only two existed in the empire, and Hanns controlled them both.
Ana’s mind was quicker. “You want us to go to Falar.”
“Yes. In an official capacity.”
Brandt scooted his chair back. “I’m no diplomat.”
The emperor arched an eyebrow. “And you think a diplomat would have any chance with the Falari? I’m sending you because you’re not a diplomat. You’re a warrior, and you know what’s at stake.”
Brandt’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. “There must be someone better.”
“Name them and I’ll send them.”
Brandt couldn’t answer.
The emperor ticked points off on his fingers. “One, you’re familiar with the Falari. Two, you know more about the gates than almost anyone alive in the empire. Three, you’ve proven your loyalty to the empire several times over.”
“None of that makes this a good idea.”
“And you’ll be escorting Regar.”
Brandt blinked. “What?”
The emperor smiled and clapped his hands. Lunch was brought in. The meal was surprisingly simple for palace fare. A hearty chicken stew. Fresh bread and butter, all completed with some wine. An expensive meal, but not ostentatious. Brandt’s stomach rumbled as his eyes wandered over the dishes.
“Eat up,” the emperor commanded. “I’ll explain what I can.”
Brandt dug in without needing further encouragement.
Hanns began. “Several years ago, Regar served along the Falari border. Although Olen will most likely become Anders VII, Regar needed to be prepared, and I needed to see how troops would respond to his command.”
The emperor popped a grape into his mouth. “Initial reports were promising. Regar had always been an,” Hanns searched for the best word, “intense child. That intensity found a welcome home in the armies. Commanders praised his decisions. He earned the loyalty of those he served with and those he commanded. There were some small incidents of disobedience, but compared to his younger exploits, they were nothing.
“Then he got captured in a skirmish. He pushed too far into a Falari advance and lost the support of his squad. He was captured.”
Hanns’ eyes stared off into the distance, the only hint of how those days had affected him. After a moment, he continued.
“He was held for one month. The commanders at the border wanted blood, but I refused to give the order.”
“Why?” Ana interrupted.
“Because one man, even if that man is my son, is not worth the lives it would cost to retrieve him. The line of Anders doesn’t require sons, and I believe Olen the better leader. Don’t misunderstand: Regar’s loss pained me, and I sent diplomats to secure his release, but I refused to send warriors to their death.”
The decision was a cold one, but rational. Brandt remembered his own time at the border. Falar was a mountainous region of the continent. Those who lived there were hard, and they knew the mountains in ways the imperials never could.
As a young soldier, Brandt had gone into those mountains frequently, pursuing Falari raids. Many of his companions had been killed without ever seeing their enemies. The Falari warriors trained extensively in archery, masters of delivering death from
