The Farthest Gate (The White Rose Book 1) Read Online Free

edge by, but then stopped me with a soft touch on my arm.  Removing his silver mask, he offered it to me.  My gaze absorbed his pale face and close-cropped hair of bristling silver.  His eyes were such a pale blue they might have been silver as well.
    “Here,” he said.  “Take me with you as you go.” 
    “Thank you.”
    I took the mask, unwilling to offend him at this point.  I was puzzled at its lack of bindings.  It had simply fallen from his face when desired, responding to his will.  That alone seemed sufficient to employ it.  I slid the mask into the pouch at my side, under my cream-colored cloak.
    “My skills can serve you only once, by the rules of the city.  Choose wisely when you call for my strength.  Men know me as Silver Wolf.  You may call me Altair.”  He bowed low.
    I drew a sharp breath.  A true name?  And given so easily, to a stranger!  He was risking much with his trust.  Someone with your true name could spell-bind you most cruelly.
    “Why?” I asked.
    “Because I sense you are more than human.”
    My eyes went wide at his assertion.  “But I am just as you see!”
    “Perhaps you yourself do not know what you are.  It is no accident that that particular ring has come to you.  You are the one destined to defeat Abaddon, and open the farthest gate.”
    I n my mind, I dismissed his suggestion that I was anything more than a desperate woman.  Surely, I would know if I were more—wouldn’t I?  My thoughts turned to the name he’d used.
    “Who is this ... Abaddon?”
    “He is Death’s mortal son, the angel of the abyss.  Some call him the Gamesman for he is obsessed with games and will demand you play.”
    “I have no time for games.”
    “You will not be able to avoid them.”
    “I will do what I must,” I said.  “I have come for what is most precious to me.”
    His laugh was harsh and bitter.  “That is wh at all the duelists say.  Good fortune, you will need it.”
    I went beyond him, stopped, and turned back on impulse.
    His flesh dissolved into the ethers, leaving yellow, weathered bone and gaping pits where eyes had been.  His armor hung loose, rusted, tarnished, cloven in places with ghastly wounds suddenly showing.
    “I am Celeste Comeyne,” I told the shade.  “ When I have beaten this accursed city, I will call your true name and free you from this duty.”
    The skull-face wobbled in refutation.  “Do not make a promise beyond your strength, White Rose.  That is how I damned myself to this fate.  I swore not to rest until vengeance was accomplished, but died too soon.”
    “Then I only promise to try … very hard.”
    “They all do.  It means nothing.  Go if you must.  Go!”  The laugh came again, like the tortured howl of the surrounding wind.
    I hurried toward the mist-blurred city, feeling the heavy weight of my ring.  As I neared the iron wall, its curved face emerged from the mist in clearer detail.  Rust made the metal seem to ooze blood from its pores.  A small wooden door built into a much larger one stood open … a daunting invitation.
    I passed handles fashioned to resemble curved branches spiked with thorns—a promise of pain if I continued.  Above them, an artistic pattern caught my eye, an engraved rose in full bloom, matching the ring I wore.
    Once I went through, the small door slammed shut without warning, making me spin back, half drawing my rapier.  As I watched, the whole wall chattered and turned in a grooved track.  I stared in fascination as the wall picked up speed, whirring by.  Never had heard of mechanisms potent enough to move a barrier of such scale!  In time, several other gates passed, each briefly flashing a different carved pattern.
    The event grew tiresome.  I turned toward a courtyard that contained a fountain.  Scattered about were groups of men and women dressed in leather, armor, and even formal court attire that spanned centuries.  Though they seemed self-absorbed, their whispers wound