The Gates of Memory, стр. 82
They spoke for a while longer. Alena asked after the others, and Brandt paused when he spoke of Ana. “She’s upset,” Brandt admitted. “This is the first time she’s seen the power of the gates firsthand. She knows how much we have to overcome, but she still believes the queen’s methods should not be ours.”
Brandt gave her a pointed glance at that. Alena shook her head. “Perhaps when we are together I can figure out a way to teach you,” she said, “but I don’t know how to do it here.”
Brandt looked disappointed, but he didn’t look surprised.
Her answer wasn’t wholly true. Perhaps here, teaching the technique would be even easier. She hadn’t tried. But she was still uncomfortable with the idea of teaching Brandt. This, at least, allowed her time to mull the problem over.
They said their farewells, and she severed their connection.
Around a campfire, the others awaited her news.
She caught them up while she ate the food that had been prepared. Toren had assumed the responsibility of cooking, and even Jace admitted that the Etari’s cooking was some of the best he had tasted. Alena almost hadn’t responded to Brandt’s summons because she feared she would miss the first, and possibly last, portions of the evening’s food.
When she was finished, she looked around the group. She kept asking more of them. But only Jace struggled with their new destination. Her brother put his bowl down gently, but the storm clouds in his expression told the true story. “We need to return to the empire,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because this is so much bigger than us,” Jace said. ““We’re closer to the imperial border than anyone else. We need to return and warn them.”
“No.” Alena took a deep breath. She didn’t want to argue with her brother. “I’m certain the emperor has some way of communicating with others at home. He wouldn’t have come otherwise. And I’m needed here. If anyone can stop Regar, it’s me.”
Jace almost stood but managed to remain seated. “Alena, do you even hear yourself? I’m amazed by you, but you’re the daughter of a blacksmith. If you challenge the prince, I’m going to lose you for good, and I won’t let that happen.”
His admission dampened the fire burning in her stomach. The anger bled out of her. “I can’t match his affinity,” Alena admitted. “But I’ve studied the gates, and there might be something I can do. Would you turn away, if there was even a chance you could save lives?”
Jace’s stare softened. “I couldn’t.”
“And neither can I.”
Jace ran his hand through his hair, longer now than she’d ever seen it. He hadn’t cut it since they left. “You know, sometimes I wish I just had a sister who had a passion for baking.”
Sheren guided the change in their direction without problem. When Alena told her they were heading to Weylen’s village, she’d nodded. “I know it well. It’s more welcoming than most, and not far from here.”
They made quick progress through the mountains. At times they used the passages that cut through the mountain, but more often they stuck to traditional valleys and passes. As Sheren explained it, they all radiated out from Faldun. While she had planned on using several in their original journey, they rarely saved time in this new direction.
The group grew more at ease with one another. Even Jace had come to trust both Toren and Sheren, making their journey substantially less stressful. Only once did they come across another war party, also heading to Faldun. Fortunately, they spotted the party from a long ways off, and were able to avoid it without problem.
The war party confirmed one of Sheren’s suspicions. She explained as they resumed their journey, telling them of the divide among the Falari. She added that the party that had just passed them was one of those that held tightly to the old ways.
“So Regar is allied with those who would bring war to the empire?” Jace asked.
“It seems that way,” Sheren said.
Jace’s confusion mirrored Alena’s own. “I don’t understand.”
Alena didn’t either. Hopefully, once they had all reunited, someone could explain it to her.
As they journeyed, Alena offered what training she could to Toren, but their progress remained slow. Regardless, he never complained.
One evening, his calm bothered her enough to make a point of it. “Doesn’t your lack of progress frustrate you?” she asked.
“Of course,” the Etari said, “but I am doing all that I can, and likewise, I believe that you are doing all that you can. Complaint is pointless. As is letting frustration get the better of me.”
Alena agreed, but agreeing and living according to the belief were two very different challenges.
Toren looked uncertain, an expression Alena had come to learn meant that he had something to say but was nervous about how she might take it. “What?”
“It seems to me that you worry too much about timelines you cannot control. The presence of your brother anchors you in the past, where events have already taken place. The thought of the battles before us pull you relentlessly toward the future. But as you are lost in the past and the future, you miss out on what is happening right before your eyes.” He paused. “And the present moment is a good one.”
The soft conviction in his voice caught her off guard. She looked at Toren as though seeing him for the first time.
“I’ll try,” she promised. She meant it, too.
Three days passed. Three days of quiet hiking up and down the endless mountains of Falar. And it ended in despair.
For when they reached the valley that held Weylen’s village, they saw that their destination was already under attack.
43
Their escape from Faldun and the days that followed became little more than one continuous nightmare. At first, Brandt had thought that the escape from the mountain city would