Fire Sea by Weis, Margaret
PROLOGUE
I’VE TRAVELED THROUGH DEATH’S GATE FOUR TIMES, YET I DON’T remember anything about the journey. Each time I’ve entered the Gate/ I’ve been unconscious. The first trip I made was to the world of Arianus, there and back—a trip that was nearly my last. [1]
On my return trip, I acquired a dragonship, built by the elves of Arianus. It’s far stronger and much more suitable than my first ship. I enhanced its magic and brought this ship back with me to the Nexus, where My Lord and I worked diligently to further increase the magic protecting the ship. Runes of power cover almost every inch of its surface.
I flew this ship to my next assignment, the world of Pryan. Once again/I sailed through Death’s Gate. Once again, I lost consciousness. I awakened to find myself in a realm where there is no darkness, only endless light.
I performed my task satisfactorily on Pryan, at least as far as My lord was concerned. He was pleased with my work.
I was not. [2]
On leaving Pryan, I endeavored to remain conscious, to see the Gate and experience it. The magic of my ship protects it and me to the extent that we both arrive at our destination completely safe and undamaged. Why, then, was I blacking out? My Lord hinted that it must be a weakness in me, a lack of mental discipline. I resolved not to give way. To my chagrin, I remembered nothing.
One moment I was awake, looking forward to entering the small dark hole that seemed far too tiny to contain my ship. The next moment I was safely in the Nexus.
It is important that we learn as much as possible about the journey through Death’s Gate. We will be transporting armies of Patryns, who must arrive on these worlds prepared to fight and conquer. My Lord has given the matter considerable study, poring over the texts of the Sartan, our ancient enemy, who built Death’s Gate and the worlds to which it leads. He has just now informed me, on the eve of my journey to the world of Abarrach, that he has made a discovery.
*
I have this moment returned from meeting with My Lord. I confess that I am disappointed. I mean this as no detriment to My Lord—a man I revere above all others in this universe—but his explanation of Death’s Gate makes little sense. How can a place exist and yet not exist? How can it have substance and be ephemeral? How does it measure time marching ahead going backward? How can its light be so bright that I am plunged into darkness?
My Lord suggests that the Death’s Gate was never meant to be traversed! He can’t tell what its function is—or was. Its purpose may have been nothing more than to provide an escape route from a dying universe. I disagree. I have discovered that the Sartan intended there to be some type of communication between worlds. This communication was, for some reason, not established. And the only connection I have found between worlds is Death’s Gate.
All the more reason that I must remain conscious on my next journey. My Lord has suggested to me how to discipline myself to achieve my goal. He warns me, however, that the risk is extremely great.
I won’t lose my life; my ship’s magic protects me from harm.
But I could lose my mind. [3]
CHAPTER
KAIRN TELEST, ABARRACH
“FATHER, WE HAVE NO CHOICE. YESTERDAY, ANOTHER CHILD DIED. The day before, his grandmother. The cold grows more bitter, every day. Yet,” his son pauses, “I’m not certain it is the cold, so much, as the darkness, Father. The cold is killing their bodies, but it is the darkness that is killing their spirit. Baltazar is right. We must leave now, while we still have strength enough to make the journey.”
Standing outside in the dark hallway, I listen, observe, and wait for the king’s reply.
But the old man does not immediately respond. He sits on a throne of gold, decorated with diamonds large as a man’s fist, raised up on a dais overlooking a huge hall made of polished marble. He can see very little of the hall. Most of it is lost in shadow. A gas lamp, sputtering and hissing on the floor at his feet, gives off only a dim and feeble light.