The Gates of Memory, стр. 78
“Agreed,” Brandt said. He’d be a fool to turn down such an offer. Ren’s guides would be an invaluable resource for getting Hanns out of the city. On their own, Brandt wasn’t sure how long escape would have taken. As much as Brandt hated sacrificing the city, Hanns was more important. Not just as the emperor, but as the man who controlled two gates.
Ana must have agreed, because she didn’t argue. Instead, she stepped forward. “I’ll fight with you.”
Ana shook her head before Brandt could even tell her that he wanted her with the emperor. He wanted her safe. “The guards here are among the best in the empire,” she said. “My presence won’t make a difference in either case. I want to fight by your side.”
There were times when it was worth arguing with Ana. But from a single look Brandt knew that this was not one of them.
“Let’s get going, then,” he said. “We’ve got a coup to stop.”
40
They needed to move. The longer she waited to reach Faldun, the more difficult she imagined her task would become. But Alena couldn’t tear her eyes from the paintings before her. It wasn’t the artwork itself. Despite the work being the product of those who came before, she had seen more superior work from artists of her own time. The painting didn’t catch her eye so much as it caught her imagination.
How long had it been here?
And did it mean what it seemed to mean?
Ever since she first learned about those that came before, a single question with no answer plagued her: What had happened? Their affinities and skills were clearly so much more advanced than those of her people. She couldn’t comprehend their disappearance.
She had come up with countless possibilities on her long journeys. A few seemed more reasonable than the others. Perhaps they had decided to leave this world behind. She couldn’t guess how they left, or to what destination they traveled, but some part of her found the idea of a whole people moving to more fertile grounds appealing. It reminded her of the Etari, always traveling from one location to the next, just on a different scale.
That explanation still didn’t answer the question of why.
Ultimately, the answer had to be one of two possibilities. Either the ones who came before had been driven away, or they had been destroyed.
Both implied that some force stronger than those that came before existed. Perhaps it had been a natural force, but Alena doubted it. The ones who came before had at least some control over the natural world. They would not have left everything due to forces of nature.
Which left the final possibility. They had been destroyed or run off by a foe far stronger than them. Just like the scene depicted in this artwork. Though it hardly served as solid evidence, it was all that Alena needed. The ones who’d come before had been destroyed by this creature. The Etari had told of a threat from the skies, but she hadn’t paid it much mind. It had been a story. But perhaps it was much more.
Jace brought her back to the present. “Studying that painting isn’t going to stop Regar,” he pointed out.
Alena understood, but still she tarried, memorizing every curve and detail of the drawing. Perhaps this wouldn’t matter today, but someday it would.
Finally, and with a reluctant sigh, she allowed herself to be pulled away from the painting. They continued deeper into the mountain, walking an endless smooth tunnel that traveled straight through the heart of a mountain. Every footstep reminded her of the powers of those who came before.
Darkness squeezed in on them from every side, held at bay only by Sheren’s torches.
Eventually the light at the other end of the tunnel began to grow. Alena practically ran the last hundred paces. She wasn’t afraid of tight spaces, but all the same, the fresh breeze blowing in from the mouth of the tunnel drew her like a moth toward a candle.
She passed by another cart identical in construction to the one she had seen at the other end of the tunnel, then came out into the fading sunlight of the end of the day. She basked in the last light of the sun, enjoying the feel of the breeze on her skin.
The rest of the party followed shortly thereafter. Alena glanced over and saw that Toren was smiling at her. “I guess I’m just built for open spaces,” she admitted.
Toren nodded, the imperial gesture catching Alena by surprise. “Me too.”
She felt guilty then. She’d been so absorbed in her own thoughts, especially after seeing the painting, that she hadn’t even thought about the others.
They stood together on the ledge and admired the scenery below.
Toren’s sharp eyes caught the movement below first. “There’s a war party moving down there.”
Jace pointed in another direction. “And there’s one there, too.”
The two parties were in different valleys, and Alena smiled at the thought of the two groups not even knowing that they were next to one another. It was unlikely, though. Sheren had told them all war parties on the move sent scouts ranging out far and wide. If the parties could be spotted from this distance, they were making no effort to hide. In all likelihood, the parties were well aware of one another.
“They’re going the same direction we are,” Jace realized out loud.
“I agree,” Sheren said. “Their destination appears to be Faldun.”
“That’s less than ideal,” Jace observed.
Sheren turned to Alena for guidance. “Your brother is right. It doesn’t bode well that war parties are converging upon the capital. Only a conflict of great import would draw so many.”
“Like a foreign prince stealing control of the gate?” Alena asked.
“That would suffice,” Sheren conceded.
Alena closed her eyes. The temptation to throw up her hands in surrender and return home was greater than ever.
But it wouldn’t solve anything. The problem would only be worse, somehow, later. “Then our task is all the