The Gates of Memory, стр. 105

when one did, a surge of satisfaction filled Brandt.

In the midst of the beating, Regar collapsed again, his muscles losing all their strength. He folded like a rag doll, and Brandt wasn’t sure the prince would ever get up. Brandt didn’t think he was the cause. As vicious as his attack had been, it hadn’t been fatal.

He needed to end this. As satisfying as beating Regar to death with his bare hands would be, the sword was quicker, a more certain solution.

Brandt turned and walked to his sword. His body was sore and tired. More than anything, he wanted this to be done.

Brandt picked up his sword, turning around to see Regar back on his feet.

He swore and rushed toward Regar before the prince could summon his affinity again. He hadn’t expected Regar to recover so quickly.

It was already too late. Regar hit Brandt with another gust of wind. Brandt braced himself, then realized the gust of wind was little more than a stiff breeze. Regar frowned, looking down at his hands like they had somehow betrayed him.

But Brandt understood. Alena had done it. She had severed his connection to the gate. She’d actually succeeded.

A surge of hope filled Brandt as he charged forward.

And then he was met with fire.

Instinctively, Brandt turned the fire away, allowing his body to absorb that which he couldn’t deflect.

Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he felt the tremendous power coursing through his body. Regar might not have his gate anymore, but he still had a gatestone, and that was more than enough to kill Brandt. Brandt was still limited by the cost.

More fire washed over Brandt, and he couldn’t control the power anymore. He released the energy, letting it go in any direction it pleased. All that mattered was ridding himself of it.

When the power finally faded, he was on his knees, surrounded by blackened stone.

Regar stood several paces away, well out of reach of Brandt’s sword. Even if the prince had been closer, Brandt wasn’t sure it would make a difference. He wasn’t sure he possessed the strength to even lift the weapon.

Regar laughed, a hint of madness at the edges of his voice. “It doesn’t matter. The gate will be mine again, just as soon as I’m done here.”

Brandt sighed. Even the idea of arguing sounded exhausting.

After everything, he was still useless in this fight. He still wasn’t strong enough. And Alena had denied him his best chance to get stronger.

He wasn’t sure if Regar moved with incredible speed or if he was just that weak. But one moment Regar was standing in front of him, and the next the prince was driving his knee into Brandt, mirroring the attack he’d just endured.

Brandt tumbled, managing to hold onto his sword but little else. Regar came again, apparently not concerned that he was an unarmed man fighting against a former wolfblade with a sword. His fists found Brandt’s kidneys, stomach, and face. They landed like bricks.

Brandt could barely summon the energy to see the blows coming, much less avoid them.

One kick sent Brandt skidding across the stone.

“Get up,” Regar said. “Get up and die like a real warrior.”

Brandt wasn’t sure where he found strength. Perhaps it was fueled by anger or perhaps his body was slowly starting to recover from the elemental attack. Either way, he found his feet. His balance wobbled for a moment and then steadied.

A ball of flame appeared in Regar’s hand, not as impressive as his earlier displays, but still several orders of magnitude greater than anything Brandt could summon.

It seemed fitting he would meet his end through the power of the same affinity he had used against so many others.

Regar raised his hand and aimed the ball of fire at Brandt. “Goodbye, Brandt.”

58

The queen looked at Alena with her icy gaze. Despite this being their first meeting in the physical world, that gaze seemed all too familiar. But it was not filled with hate, the way Alena expected. Instead, it seemed contemplative. The queen studied her.

“You are the soulwalker. Alena.”

Hearing her name voiced by the queen sent a shiver down her spine. There was strength even in the queen’s voice, power that reverberated in every syllable. It promised wisdom, the experience of lifetimes, condensed into one soul. It was intoxicating, though Alena didn’t feel even a hint of compulsion.

The queen’s eyes traveled from Alena to the gate, and something in her gaze seemed off, like it was focused both here and somewhere else. With a start, Alena realized the queen walked in both worlds at once. After examining the gate for less than a heartbeat, the queen’s eyes returned to Alena. “You didn’t take it for yourself.”

“The gates were never meant to be controlled,” Alena said.

“Foolishness,” the queen said. “The gates are but a stepping stone to true power.”

There wasn’t a hint of madness in the queen’s voice, but Alena didn’t believe her. How could the gates be a stepping stone? No power surpassed them.

Except the gates hadn’t saved those who came before, and they had created the weapons.

Some power had overwhelmed even the gates.

It didn’t make sense, but at the same time, it had to be true. It was the only story that fit what she knew. What did the queen know? What was she after?

Despite the fact they had fought several times, Alena couldn’t answer those questions. The queen was a mystery.

But a dangerous one at that. Alena broke away from the queen’s blue eyes to examine the room. She had been so distracted by the queen’s presence she had forgotten that very presence spelled doom for her friends. Every member of her war party lay scattered around the floor. None moved that she could see.

“I haven’t killed any of them, yet.”

The threat of Alena’s noncompliance was clear.

“Why didn’t you take the gate?”

Alena was reminded of a young child, asking why the sky was blue or why apples fell. For all her lifetimes, the queen seemed unable to comprehend her decision. “The gates are