David Farland - Beyond the Gate

It was a long and lonely drive northward. The seasickness didn’t seem to leave Maggie for several days after they landed, yet soon things got back to normal and they arrived in the City of Life near mid-winter. It was a vast city, with great bubbles rising up at the spaceport on its edge. Tall white buildings with lofty spires gleamed against the mountains. A wide and deep river poured through the city, and white snow geese swam, mirrored in its black waters.

There, the group checked into an inn more like something they would find on Fale, a stately building with fountains at its feet, with vast clean rooms and a beautifully constructed hearth where the fire was already laid.

Maggie said goodbye to the Harvester, who had kept her distance and never really become a close friend all during this trip. “Perhaps I will see you sometime,” the Harvester said, surprising Maggie with the sentiment.

“Where will you go now?” Maggie asked.

The Harvester pointed east to the mountains. “I have friends in the Vale of the Bock. Ceravanne gave me a seed from my friend, so that at least he will bear offspring, though he will never be reborn. I will raise his child as if it too were my son.”

“Then may you find peace,” Maggie said, and she gave the woman a hug, then the Harvester drove off alone in the wagon toward the snow-covered mountains.

Straightaway, Maggie, Gallen, and Orick took Tallea’s hair sample along with the gem of memories from Gallen’s mantle and sought out the Hall of Rebirth-a vast building made of crystal that held more than three hundred thousand workers. There, they presented the items to the judges, along with their petition for Tallea’s rebirth.

Because of the unseasonable weather, there were few travelers in the city, and three judges, an ageless man and two women, each dressed in white and wearing the platinum mantles of their profession, said they would be able to consider the petition that very evening.

“You can come back in the morning, and hear our decision,” one of the judges said.

“Fine,” Orick grumbled. “But I’ll be waiting out on the steps to hear your word tonight, if you don’t mind. I’ll come in just when I see that you’re closing your doors.”

The judges glanced at one another, as if considering the propriety of this inconvenience, and Maggie went back to the inn with Gallen for a bit.

At sunset they returned to the Hall of Rebirth and found Orick waiting. A light snow had begun to fall again, powdering the streets, and the weather seemed only cool. Orick, with his thick pelt, didn’t fret about the weather, but after a bit, Maggie found herself stamping her feet, trying to keep them warm.

After an hour, one of the judges came running from the building in his thin white gown, came and took Maggie by the hand, then bent low and put one hand on Orick’s shoulder. “Why did you not tell us who you were?” the judge said.

“Would it have made a difference in our petition?” Gallen asked.

“No,” the judge said, “but at the very least, I would not have had you standing out here in the snow. Twice these past two weeks, the Vanquishers from the Seventh Swarm came to search the city for you. Apparently, the Dronon are scouring the worlds for news of you. Right now, they’ve headed farther south, to a warmer clime. Still, I expect that they will return. You are in grave danger!”

“We know that they’re hunting us,” Orick grumbled, “and we’re getting damned tired of it! Now, what about Tallea?”

“We have reviewed her memories, and I am happy to report that she will be reborn.”

“How soon?” Gallen asked. “We don’t want to leave the city without saying good-bye.”

“Just as I am equally sure that she will want you to wait for her,” the judge said. “Still, she poses a problem for us. She seeks a new body, one that will have to be modified to meet her desires, and then we will have to force-grow it in the vats for a week.”

“Yes,” Maggie said, “she wanted to be a Roamer.”

“How soon?” Orick urged the man.

The judge breathed heavily. “Eight days, maybe ten. I will have the technicians begin within the hour, but it cannot be hurried any faster.” Maggie knew from her mantle that, indeed, the judge was offering to perform a near-miracle.

“Thank you,” she whispered, hugging him briefly. “Now, you had better get back inside before you freeze.”

“Tell me where you are staying,” the judge whispered. “I have friends who were in the resistance. They will know best how to help you stay hidden.”

Gallen told him where to find them, and then they headed back toward the inn. They had not gone two blocks before two burly gentlemen in dark cloaks stepped out of a doorway, their warm breath making a cloud of fog around their faces. One of them whispered, “We’re friends.”

He walked up ahead, taking point, and looked at each cross street, then waved them along. Maggie had felt secure for weeks, but her guardians’ behavior unnerved her. For the next four kilometers, they found themselves under such guard, and when they reached the hotel, no less than a dozen such men could be seen loafing at the street comers, watching from roofs.

When they got to their room, Gallen took off his cold winter cloak and hung it in the closet. “It sounds as if we’re hotter on this world than we’d anticipated,” Gallen said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He went and looked out the window, to the lights burning in the buildings, the snow falling, and Orick went and stood looking out with him.

“Eight days. Eight days from today is Christmas day here on this world, you know,” Orick said. “I figured it up on their calendar.”

“No one here will be celebrating it,” Gallen said. “There are no Catholics here.”

“I will be celebrating it,” Orick muttered.

“We all will,” Maggie said. “That is the day that Tallea is reborn … if we’re lucky.”

“Ah, that would be grand,” Gallen said. “But don’t get your hopes up.”

And so, that following week they spent some time searching for gifts for one another in the shops of the City of Life. The shops carried no fantastic goods, like the near-magical items one might find on Fale. Instead, there were only good woolen coats dyed with bright colors, shoes that would last. Fine cheeses from all comers of the world.

On Christmas Eve, in the kitchens at the inn, Maggie cooked a ham and made rolls and Christmas pies all filled with red cherries and topped with white sugared cream. It was a huge feast, fit for a bear, and by the end of it, Orick’s snout was plastered with jam and cream.

Early on Christmas day, they exchanged gifts. Gallen got fine new scabbards for his knives from Orick, and Maggie and Gallen had scrounged together to find Orick a handsome new leather-covered copy of the Bible, for Orick had been obliged, in his haste to escape Tihrglas, to leave his Bible at home.

“Where did you get this?” Orick exclaimed, and Gallen said, “I told you that there were no Catholics on this world. I didn’t say that it completely lacked Christians.”

“But Ceravanne had never heard of them,” Orick said. “How is it she never heard of them?”

“We found the Bible at the spaceport,” Maggie finally said, unwilling to keep the bear in suspense. “Travelers from many far worlds come through there. One of them had sold it to a man who trades in … curiosities.”

Orick and Gallen then gave Maggie their gifts-a light perfume of exotic flavor, and a green silk nightgown. Both of them were fine, indeed. When they were done, Orick asked, “All right, Maggie, don’t keep us hanging at your elbow. What did you get for Gallen?”

“Oh, nothing much,” she said honestly. “It’s a small gift.”