The Lightning Wastes (The Traveler's Gate Chronicles: Collection #3) by Will Wight Page B
Authors: Will Wight
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cloak-flourishing bow. “I will leave as soon as you select another bodyguard.”
“I hardly need one.”
“No one is safe alone,” Indirial said, for once completely serious. “Particularly not with the Incarnations around. And no matter how confident you are, you'll be surrounded by Endross Travelers in their own Territory.”
“They're Damascan citizens,” she pointed out. They should obey her without question.
“They're Endross,” he said simply. “You need a bodyguard. I haven't seen Kai in weeks—”
Leah shuddered at the thought of spending even one day with Kai. She had never gotten over her distaste for the man. He was simply...eerie.
“...and Denner's in the south, leading refugees away from the Asphodel Incarnation. If I could find Kathrin, I could hire her to guard you, but that would take a few days.”
Indirial's grin was back, in full force. “That leaves one Valinhall Traveler left.”
“It doesn't necessarily have to be a Valinhall Traveler,” Leah protested.
“Would you prefer one Valinhall or four Tartarus?”
Bringing one guide and one bodyguard meant that she was confident enough in her royal commands that she didn't need to lean on force. Bringing one guide and four bodyguards meant that she felt she needed protection, because she didn't expect the Endross Travelers to obey her. They would see it as a sign of weakness.
“...one.”
“Excellent!” Indirial said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I'll open a Gate.”
***
Indirial left his Gate open, then walked out of the tent. She called after him, but he didn't respond, which was typical: once the Overlord had a new goal in his sights, he tended to head straight for it, blocking everything else out.
She turned from the portal and faced the entry room of the House of Blades. It looked like nothing so much as a sitting-room for a wealthy noble. A wealthy noble from a century past. It was a little dim, and the swords—hung in wooden racks on the walls—left a little to be desired, as far as decor went. Ornately carved tables sat here and there in the room, covered by books and surrounded by plush, red-cushioned chairs. Against one wall set a comfortable-looking red sofa, though she thought she could hear a soft growling coming from that direction. Maybe there was a badger or some other small animal stuck under its cushions.
Between the ostentatious furniture and the soft lighting, the scene almost looked like it belonged in an attic, covered in dust. She ran a hand along the top of a desk. It was spotlessly clean, and had been recently polished. She'd only entered Valinhall a handful of times before, and she had never caught a glimpse of anyone doing housework. Perhaps the House cleaned itself. Or maybe this was how they trained Travelers: by forcing them to dust the furniture.
“Excuse me,” she called into the hallway, which extended out beyond the entry hall. “Is anyone there?”
She felt distinctly uncomfortable, calling into a foreign Territory like this. Who knew what sort of creatures she might awaken? Then again, she had never seen anything here that looked remotely dangerous. Indirial and Simon always spoke as though the House was the most deadly Territory of all the eleven known to man, but she had yet to see it. It seemed quite comfortable, to her.
When no one responded, she marched forward, into the hall. Doors stretched down the hall on either side of her. To her left was a door with a single small circle; to her right, a door with a huge circle orbited by three small circles. Some way of distinguishing the bedrooms, she supposed, but she had never gotten a look inside one of these doors. She had no idea which one was Simon's. Maybe she should just knock on each one separately, and see if someone answered.
Just as she had raised her hand to knock, the door on the far left opened, and a woman stepped out. She had a pair of goggles pushed up her forehead, tied around the back of her head
“I hardly need one.”
“No one is safe alone,” Indirial said, for once completely serious. “Particularly not with the Incarnations around. And no matter how confident you are, you'll be surrounded by Endross Travelers in their own Territory.”
“They're Damascan citizens,” she pointed out. They should obey her without question.
“They're Endross,” he said simply. “You need a bodyguard. I haven't seen Kai in weeks—”
Leah shuddered at the thought of spending even one day with Kai. She had never gotten over her distaste for the man. He was simply...eerie.
“...and Denner's in the south, leading refugees away from the Asphodel Incarnation. If I could find Kathrin, I could hire her to guard you, but that would take a few days.”
Indirial's grin was back, in full force. “That leaves one Valinhall Traveler left.”
“It doesn't necessarily have to be a Valinhall Traveler,” Leah protested.
“Would you prefer one Valinhall or four Tartarus?”
Bringing one guide and one bodyguard meant that she was confident enough in her royal commands that she didn't need to lean on force. Bringing one guide and four bodyguards meant that she felt she needed protection, because she didn't expect the Endross Travelers to obey her. They would see it as a sign of weakness.
“...one.”
“Excellent!” Indirial said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I'll open a Gate.”
***
Indirial left his Gate open, then walked out of the tent. She called after him, but he didn't respond, which was typical: once the Overlord had a new goal in his sights, he tended to head straight for it, blocking everything else out.
She turned from the portal and faced the entry room of the House of Blades. It looked like nothing so much as a sitting-room for a wealthy noble. A wealthy noble from a century past. It was a little dim, and the swords—hung in wooden racks on the walls—left a little to be desired, as far as decor went. Ornately carved tables sat here and there in the room, covered by books and surrounded by plush, red-cushioned chairs. Against one wall set a comfortable-looking red sofa, though she thought she could hear a soft growling coming from that direction. Maybe there was a badger or some other small animal stuck under its cushions.
Between the ostentatious furniture and the soft lighting, the scene almost looked like it belonged in an attic, covered in dust. She ran a hand along the top of a desk. It was spotlessly clean, and had been recently polished. She'd only entered Valinhall a handful of times before, and she had never caught a glimpse of anyone doing housework. Perhaps the House cleaned itself. Or maybe this was how they trained Travelers: by forcing them to dust the furniture.
“Excuse me,” she called into the hallway, which extended out beyond the entry hall. “Is anyone there?”
She felt distinctly uncomfortable, calling into a foreign Territory like this. Who knew what sort of creatures she might awaken? Then again, she had never seen anything here that looked remotely dangerous. Indirial and Simon always spoke as though the House was the most deadly Territory of all the eleven known to man, but she had yet to see it. It seemed quite comfortable, to her.
When no one responded, she marched forward, into the hall. Doors stretched down the hall on either side of her. To her left was a door with a single small circle; to her right, a door with a huge circle orbited by three small circles. Some way of distinguishing the bedrooms, she supposed, but she had never gotten a look inside one of these doors. She had no idea which one was Simon's. Maybe she should just knock on each one separately, and see if someone answered.
Just as she had raised her hand to knock, the door on the far left opened, and a woman stepped out. She had a pair of goggles pushed up her forehead, tied around the back of her head
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