The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [30]
For so long Travis had run from his power, afraid of it, but he was done running. Aryn had said that sometimes she wanted power, and maybe that wasn't so wrong. He knew now why Tira had brought him Krondisar: because the time for guarding it was over. It was time to use it—to use all his power. Duratek Corporation had sent its agents to Eldh to sow chaos and destruction. Travis intended to return the favor. In the past, Sinfathisar had granted him the power to speak runes on Earth. What might two of the Great Stones enable him to do there? He didn't know, but he was going to find out.
And so was Duratek.
And if you manage to destroy Duratek and their gate, then what will you do? spoke Jack Graystone's familiar voice in his mind. Your magic is needed here on Eldh, Travis, and so is the magic of the Great Stones.
Travis ignored the voice. It was still dim, but the spark of another idea had begun to smolder in his mind. Even on Earth, the Great Stones weren't safe from the Pale King. But what if there was a way to make sure neither Berash nor Mohg ever gained control of Sinfathisar and Krondisar?
Some things ought to be broken. . . .
It was time. He tucked his stiletto into his belt, along with a small money purse. He would have liked to raid Melia's stash for more gold, but he had enough to last him a while, and asking Melia for money might have aroused her suspicion. The others would want to search for him, of course. He had to let them know there was no use. There was no parchment to write on, so he scribbled a note on the smooth surface of the hearthstone with a piece of charcoal, then rose.
He picked up the iron box in his left hand, and with his right he fished into a pocket and pulled out the silver half-coin Brother Cy had given him what seemed an age ago. At the Black Tower, he had gathered the slivers of the coin he had given to Lirith, Durge, and Sareth on Earth. When he spoke Eru, the rune of binding, the slivers had joined back together without visible seam.
Travis turned the half-coin in his hand, looking at the fragmentary runes on each side: Eldh and Earth. The coin was a bound rune, he knew that now, and a powerful one, for its magic functioned even when it was fragmented. He wouldn't have been surprised if Olrig himself had created this rune.
He tightened his fingers around the half-coin. What if Grace uses her piece of the coin to follow you?
She wouldn't. As much as she feared what Falken was going to ask her to do, Travis knew she wouldn't refuse the bard. Besides, Travis was certain now that the half-coin wouldn't work for her as it did for him. It had the power to return you to your world. Eldh was Grace's world. But not Travis's.
He made sure he had a good grip on the iron box, then he raised the hand with the half-coin before him.
“Good-bye, everyone,” he whispered.
Silver light welled between Travis's fingers, and the world faded away.
8.
Grace stood on the ramparts, huddled inside her fur-lined cape, and watched the Tarrasian soldiers march in rigid formation toward the castle. Sunlight glinted off spears and breastplates; black horses pranced, tails and heads held high. Grace's heart soared. Perhaps they really would stand against the Pale King. She gazed past the first company of soldiers and saw . . .
. . . empty road stretching as far as she could see.
“One company,” Sir Tarus said beside her, his words a growl of disgust. “He calls himself an emperor, yet all he sends is one single company.”
Trumpets blared. The castle gates opened, and the soldiers passed through—eighty on foot, twenty mounted. All too soon the gates closed behind them.
Grace sighed,