Brant slowed and came to a stop, nervous that this was all some feint. Unable to keep his focus any longer, the stones dropped, clattering to the roofs.
He stood on his rooftop, expecting the assault to resume. Now that he had come to a stop he wasn’t sure he could start moving again.
But he saw no more enemies and no arrows came his way. Ana became light and leaped from her rooftop to his.
That alone impressed him. His exhaustion was complete. He would need a ladder to come down off the roof.
Ana answered his question before he could even ask it. “He refused to leave.”
“Of course he did. But why?”
“He said the town would help defend him. To leave would be an insult to their honor.”
Shapes moved in the darkness at the edges of Brandt’s vision. They were townspeople. No one wore the dark clothing of the invaders, and Brandt caught sight of a few faces he recognized.
He gave in to his exhaustion, collapsing back and sitting on the angled roof.
The fight had taken place near the limits of his abilities. The constant movement combined with the use of affinities had drained him of everything.
But with the exhaustion came a certain satisfaction. A pride.
He’d given everything, and he’d helped keep the archers away from Regar. His talents had always been on the battlefield.
But his satisfaction wasn’t complete. He’d pushed to the very limits of his ability, and if the attack hadn’t broken when it had, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could have lasted.
The cost still plagued him. He knew the Etari used gatestones to bypass the cost, opening up the technique Brandt had seen the young Etari, Azaleth, use to such great effect outside Landow. But he didn’t think the Etari would give him a gatestone anytime soon.
The empire had a few, but they were in the care of the emperor and the monasteries. They weren’t given to individuals under any circumstances.
Which left him in the same place. He felt like he was nearing the edges of his ability, and if this ambush was any indication, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed more strength, but he didn’t know how to obtain it.
Ana sat down, putting an end to that string of thoughts. They sat in silence as the sky above the mountain peaks turned pink with the dawning of a new day. He grabbed her hand and held it in his, and together they watched their allies begin to heal one another.
22
Although she felt the temptation to remain connected to the gate and explore its abilities further, Alena decided her efforts were enough for the day. She made her way back to Toren, who was calmly sitting upon the imaginary plains of Etar. Then she severed their connection completely.
Back in the tent, she found that not much time had passed at all. Jace, vigilantly guarding the two of them, looked surprised to see them so soon. She’d noticed that aspect to soulwalking before, but within the gate the effect seemed stronger.
Toren had questions about their experience and what he had felt through their bond, but Alena begged for some space. Hanns’ refusal to cooperate irritated her, and she found it impossible to focus. Jace, thankfully, sensed Alena’s state of mind. He promised Toren they would meet for a midday meal, then escorted Alena to their tent.
Once alone, Jace settled near the entrance, protecting her from interruption and giving Alena all the space she needed. She paced the short length of the tent, sorting her thoughts. It didn’t take her long to realize these weren’t problems she could sort on her own.
She recruited Jace, explaining everything that happened. He asked insightful clarifying questions, then sat in silence when she finished.
When he did answer, it was carefully. “Alena, I think I agree with Anders VI.” Jace hadn’t had the same interactions with Hanns and refused to use the emperor’s given name.
Before Alena could object, Jace held up his hands. “I understand. I really do. But hear me out.”
Through a force of will, Alena shut her jaw and listened.
“There’s no doubt that if the Etari lose their gate it will be difficult for them. But it doesn’t necessarily mean disaster. Even without their gatestones they all possess affinities and the ability to use them. They’re still skilled hunters and warriors. Losing the gate would change their culture, but it doesn’t endanger their lives.”
Alena took a deep breath. Her brother had a point. She nodded, sensing that he still had more to his argument.
“So the question, then, is this: Is the loss of the Etari way of life worth the potential gain for the empire?” Jace paused. “I believe it is. I know you’re angry at the emperor, but remember that he’s using this power to protect the whole continent, including the Etari and the Falari. He’s a capable commander. He knows the only way to remain safe against the Lolani is to keep them on their own land. He can’t sacrifice either Etar or Falar—if the Lolani gain a foothold it’s only a matter of time before they bring the fight to the heart of the empire. So even if the Etari lose the gatestones, they’ll still have the emperor’s protection.”
At that moment, Alena appreciated Jace more than anyone else in the world. Not because he had convinced her, but because his calm argument helped focus her own. Blades only became sharpened against a whetstone. Arguments only became clear when one could see both sides.
“You’re right, but I don’t think it’s only Etari culture at stake.” Alena moved her hands through the air randomly, searching for the right words. “Soulwalking has taught me that everything is connected, and that’s true of the gates, too. They weren’t built to be used the way Hanns or the queen is using them.” She searched for an explanation. “I think the balance is important.”
“And what happens if that balance is disrupted?”
Alena shook her head. “I don’t know, but I doubt Hanns does,
