When one door closes, another always opens for you to walk through.
The Centurions made no pretense of honor or kindness. Each of the prisoners were struck multiple times, including Lili. Twice the guards turned to put a bullet in Dax’s head, when Chuck and Vin struggled to carry him. In the end, Wendell requested his hands bound in front of him so he could carry his prone friend.
Down into the depths of the temple they drudged, until they ended right back where it had all begun. The prisoner room, just outside the chamber where the Prime Gate was kept. One by one they were pushed through the doorway and into the last chamber. The ceiling was exceptionally high for a gnome structure—all to allow for the arching black points of the Prime Gate. Three sides and three ramps, all leading up to a platform with intricate carvings in circular patterns of stone. The three curved spires were crafted of polished, black onyx, jutting out of the platform like the teeth of a great beast. Each spire covered with deep red etchings.
Once the last member of the group had been thrust through the door, it was shut and locked behind them.
“This would have been much easier for everyone involved if you had allowed me to follow my original plan,” Noah said over the speakers. He appeared in the control booth above them. Four other monks joined him, working the controls. “Now I will have to take the time to reclaim the lives I have prepared for the exchange. Such a laborious process.”
“Exchange?” Wendell bellowed, angry. “You sacrificed fellow citizens! INNOCENT PEOPLE!” His face flushed with rage—the only comfort was in knowing that Simon and most of the other gnomes had gotten away and avoided this fate. There has to be a way to end this! I can’t let him get away and start this all over again… “You’re working with the enemy, you…filth!” But it was useless and he know it. What could he possibly do, trapped here in this room—and what would happen to them once that Gate opened?
Cold eyes locked onto the hero, the thin lips rolling back into a smile. “Oh, but there was an exchange. I gave those grotesque beasts what they wanted, in turn for our anonymity. Mahan will be coming back—don’t fool yourself. It’s only a matter of time! Once he does, this world will be ripped apart and those who oppose him will be destroyed or devoured.” The smile instantly faded, “I’m just ensuring we avoid such a fate.”
Overhead, giant fans rumbled to life.
Chuck grabbed Lili and Höbin, pulling them close. He whispered to the historian. The techno-mägo were doing some huddling of their own.
Wendell could still feel the power surging from the Lanthya Shard—adding to the innate strength from the Ithari. Squeezing his hands into fists, he grunted and pulled with his might…snapping the handcuffs. His attention, however, stayed focused on the monk. “You think such a race would have any honor to keep such a promise? I thought you were clever, Noah. You’re a fool!”
Noah just laughed. “Impressive show of strength, but it won’t help you. The Täuku are a magical race. You won’t get within range of striking them, and I will sleep knowing well that I have delivered the only enemy that could possibly defeat them over time.”
Vin and Doddle slipped around the backside of the Prime Gate, while Tabbermain stepped up in front of Wendell.
“You won’t be able to control this gate without our help, Noah,” the gnome yelled. “Think carefully before you choose to cast us away.”
“Oh I know your uses, Tabbermain—and they are few.” Noah patted the closest monk on the shoulder, “My men have set up a remote and relay system to control the functions of the Prime Gate. A job you once had, but are no longer needed for.” He smirked, “Even if I did need a mägo—there are more within this city who may give far less trouble than you three.”
“Ahem,” blurted Doddle, holding up a thick cable with both hands. “Do you mean the Gate is controlled by one of these wee things?”
“Put that down!” Noah squealed. He turned to those in the booth. “Get down there—and get that cable hooked back up!”
“We good?” Chuck called out.
“All done,” Höbin yelled back. The historian was kneeling on the floor at the double doors. He popped the tip of his cybernetic finger over the welding tip. “Doors are sealed shut.”
Wendell was completely confused. “What are all of you…How are we supposed to get free if you lock us in?”
Lili just smiled and walked up the ramp.
“You’re missing the point, son,” said Chuck with a wide grin, “We aren’t locked in. They,” he pointed up to the booth with a boney finger, “are locked out.” Nodding to Dax’s prone body on the floor, “Now if you’ll be so kind as to carry the cargo, my fellow mägo and I will do what we do best.”
Wendell lifted Dax up gently, but stood there, flustered. “But, I…what…uhhh.”
Lili reached up and tugged on his forearm. “You’ve done so much, for so many people Wendell…let them take it from here.” She smiled then, which, even as a gnome, was more lovely than anything Wendell could imagine. “Come on,” she whispered, “let’s go home.”
Home? His breathing became shallow at the thought. Can we really be leaving this place? For all the excitement, this large and overwhelming city turned out to be more terrifying and personally dangerous than anything he’d experienced in the Tilliman Highlands. Wearily, with Noah’s voice still shouting through the speakers, Wendell stepped up onto the ramp of the Prime Gate.
Gnomes were not as innocent as they looked.
“Ok boys,” Chuck hooted, “you turn the key and I’ll press the button.” He gave the mägo a wink, “I don’t think the blueberries would want you to know their address.”
Chanting the ancient words of magic known to those practitioners of gate lore, the red symbols surged with innate power. One by one, from the base of the platform up to the highest point of the arch, the Gate hummed its song, calling to its identical mate somewhere in the beyond.
Waving his hand over the last symbol, Chuck watched the light grow between the three spires…and then jump up, shooting through the solid ceiling. He sighed happily and gave Noah a friendly, if not mocking wave.
“Oh,” he muttered, patting the sleeves of his robe. “Almost forgot!”
“Forgot?” Höbin asked, curious.
The wizard pulled out two explosive canisters. He held them up gleefully. “Boom booms!” Flipping his hat off, he reached in and produced a long piece of rope.
“What is it with you and rope?” Höbin chuckled, taking one end. With his boot knife, he cut it in half and handed the other section to Chuck.
“It’s a long story, which I just might share…but only over a good steak and some Black Seed Rum.”
“Done.”
Fastening the two canisters to a single spire, they used the second strand of rope and attached it to the firing pins.
FWOOSH!
Light flared from the center of the platform…the faded image of trees and buildings appeared. The images rippled, like looking through a pond.
“Where are we going?” Tabbermain asked curiously.
“You, my dear sir,” Chuck said boldly, “are about to be the unwanted guests of the Iskari High Council!”
Wendell stepped closer and nudged the worried gnome with his leg. “You will be my guest, Tabbermain, so don’t worry. Friends are always welcome at my campfire.”
Waving his arms, Chuck ushered everyone through the rippling image.
With a wave and a deep bow, he smiled up at Noah.
…and pulled the rope.
