Gateway (The Gateway Trilogy, Book 1) (22 page)

IT ISN'T THE HUMAN'S DIMENSION. IT BELONGS TO THE DAEMONS. IT WAS STOLEN FROM US AND NOW IS THE TIME TO TAKE IT BACK
.

I howled in pain and had to stop myself from beating my head against the cracked earth. I had to hold on. It couldn't be much longer, it couldn't—

YOU WILL NOT GO BACK UNTIL I RELEASE YOU. AND I WILL NOT RELEASE YOU UNTIL YOU HAVE SEEN.

My mouth hung open and my throat contracted, but no more sound came out. There was no voice left in me, none but It.

The landscape around me shifted and blurred and I thought I might be flying, until I realized that I remained on my hands and knees gripping the dirt. It was my surroundings that were moving.

Just as abruptly it stopped, and I found myself in the passenger seat of a car. I couldn't will myself to move; I was just an observer in this body, not the animating force. We pass a small market and I know we’re traveling through Laurel Canyon.

“I wish you would tell me what's bothering you,” a male voice says.

I turn to see a handsome man in his mid-forties with a salt and pepper beard. “It's nothing, honey, I'm fine.” The voice isn't mine, but I know it passes through the lips of the person whose body I'm inhabiting.

“It's not nothing, you toss and turn all night, lately. Are you having nightmares again?” The man's face is etched with concern.

“No,” I say, “it's just headaches. I made an appointment with Dr. Wilson to get checked out, but I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.” I reach across and rest my hand on his leg, giving it a squeeze. I look up to see the Institute coming into view. A Guardian steps out of the guard shack.

“Morning, Richard, Gretchen. Have a good shift,” he says and hits the code for the gate to open.

The world spun and for a moment I was back in the wasteland, back in my own body. But then—

I'm pacing back and forth in a dining room.

“You're being completely irrational. You're not making any sense,” Richard says. He's seated at the table, his expression pleading.

I stop pacing. “Stop calling me irrational! I know what I saw.” My voice booms.

Richard stands and grabs me by the shoulders. “Gretchen, listen to me, please. This isn't you talking. I can feel you slipping away. We have to get some help.”

Again my surroundings blurred, the motion making me queasy.

I'm in Master Dogan's office. All of the Elders, including Annys are gathered around his table. They're tense—eyes tight, posture stiff.

“It's not that we don't have sympathy for what you're going through,” says a female Elder with dark hair, grey streaking her temples, “we just have no one to replace you yet.”

“The centers are always the hardest to find, as you know,” says a plump man with thinning hair, “but we are trying.”

“Three more are due to graduate in the summer,” Annys says. “Surely you can wait until then to take a leave of absence.”

Master Dogan is studying me with his tranquil eyes.

“I have an idea to mitigate your exposure,” he says, “if you and Richard are willing.”

The world lurched.

I'm in a bathroom, fumbling with a bottle of Ibuprofen. I hear running bath water. My hands are shaking, my head pounds. At last, I unscrew the cap and pour four tablets into my palm then toss them back with a sip of water. I lean against the counter until I stop shaking. I pull off my robe and step into the steaming bath, so hot it's painful. I sink in slowly, getting acclimated. I soak long enough for the bath to have cooled. The throbbing in my head recedes, leaving a dull ache. Back in my robe, I exit the bathroom to see Richard reading in bed.

I slide under the covers next to him and lean against his chest. He's reading Hemingway.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better,” I say. “I haven't had a headache since we got here.”

The scene shifted and—

I'm entering what looks like a grand ballroom. The floor is tiled in a beautiful mosaic, the walls decorated with rich tapestries. The room is circular, with a wooden staircase leading to a balcony that rings the entirety.  I'm holding Richard's hand and he gives me kiss before going to stand against the wall with other Guardians. I walk to the center of the room and look down. I'm standing on the center tile of the Gateway.

The time is now.

No, comes my mental response. Not now, not ever. Eight others surround me, dressed in the same white robe I wear. We all take our seats. I close my eyes and see a beautiful ball of golden light pulsating at my third eye. I'm reaching out, ready to form the link.

You know what I'll do to you.

It doesn't matter. I will never help you.

The first connection slides into place. A ribbon of energy pulsates between us. The second connection is made and I exhale.

It's only going to get worse.

Stop it! The thought is loud in my head and the connections break, sending shooting pain through my body. I open my eyes. There is shock on the faces of the other Keepers.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “Let's begin again.”

I form the links hastily, one after the next. There's nothing elegant about it, but my heart is racing, my palms sweating; I'm afraid to go slowly. The strength of the symbol buoys me. I'm relaxing, the tension leaves my shoulders, my breath deepens. I feel myself at the center, connecting all of us together.

You will help me.

The link wavers, but I struggle to hang on. I don't respond to the Voice. It requires all of my focus to keep the connection, now.

Are you surprised, Gretchen, that I can reach you even now? Do you think yourself safe when you link with these humans?

Perspiration beads on my forehead. My teeth grind with effort.

Do you think there is anywhere you can go that I cannot find you?

The connection slips a fraction but I regain it. I'm swaying now.

It's no use fighting it. You will help me destroy the Gateway and release
—

NO! The thought consumes my mind, blocking out all other sensations. I WILL NEVER HELP YOU. NOT. EVER!!!

I push back against the Demon with everything I have. Too late I realize what I've done. The link is severed; the eight lights pulsating around me wink out. My eyes fly open to see the other Keepers knocked backward. The Guardians at the wall rush forward, but the earth shakes violently below us. They struggle to keep their footing. Looking down I notice the tiniest of cracks appear.

“No!” I scream as it spreads, spidering in different directions.

The other Keepers haven't stirred other than being shaken by the force that feels like an earthquake but isn't. The center tile is splitting beneath me. I feel my insides threatening to erupt. I cry out in agony as the pain overwhelms me, paralyzes me. It's Richard who grabs my arm and hauls me out of the way as a gaping hole opens where I'd been just seconds before.

The other Guardians reach the Keepers and drag them back from the ever-widening maw.

“Run, Gretchen!” Richard is standing, sword drawn, balancing on the shifting floor.

The rumbling slows, and from the hole comes a mass of demons, clawing their way to freedom. The Guardians hack and slash at the monsters. An alarm sounds, barely audible over the clash of battle. The demons are coming in torrents, raining down upon the Guardians. We're outnumbered, but the demons seem more interested in fleeing than fighting. They stream toward the doors only to be met by the now rallied forces. The Guardians make easy meat of them, but they keep coming.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I imagine the symbol, glowing bright. Not just the center this time, but the whole Gateway. The ribbon of energy pulsates throughout my body. I am the Gateway—pieces fragmented, but still here.

Something is coming, something huge, and it's going to grind me to bits.

I will the pieces back together. I've blocked out the sound of battle but am acutely aware of tile scraping slowly across the floor.

The something that is making my heart pound in my chest and my blood turn to ice is still coming.

I hear a click as one of tiles slides back into place. With part of the link formed I pulsate with even more power. Inch by inch I go, reaching out energetically to form the link, the tiles following suit and sliding into place. The center is the last and hardest one. Unlike the others it's in pieces. My guts twist with effort as I imagine it whole, complete, perfect. The connection is made, though the center glows much more weakly than the others. I open my eyes. The battle is ending, the last of the demons being dispatched. I crawl to the center of the symbol, my body like jelly, and see the center stone, still cracked down the middle. Richard races to my side and I collapse into him, tears streaming down my face.

“I did this,” I whisper. “I did this.”

The vision faded and I was slammed back to the present, once again jarred to my core. I stayed completely still, but this time the world didn't shift around me.

“Oh, my God, Ember, what happened?” It was Kat's voice, though I knew it was an illusion.

But as my eyes adjusted, I saw not scorched earth below me, but grass. I twisted enough to see Kat, kneeling beside me, concern etched on her face.

“I-I was… How long was I gone?” I asked. Moving my mouth was agony.

“What do you mean, gone? You were storming off to find Annys and Master Dogan and then you just collapsed.”

“When?”

“Like ten seconds ago. You're really freaking me out. Do you want me to get the nurse?”

“No,” I said, sitting upright. My head swam but I fought against it. “I want you to tell me about a Keeper named Gretchen.”

“Gretchen?” Kat said, confused. “Gretchen Hart? What do you want to know about her?”

“Hart?”

I trembled.

“Well, yeah. The only Gretchen I know is Taren's mom.”

As my world collapsed, Taren came racing toward us and skidded to a halt. “I saw you fall from across the lawn. Are you alright?”

He crouched at my side but I just stared at him, unable to form words.

“She asked how long she'd been gone and then asked about your mother,” Kat said when I didn't answer.

“You were… gone?” His brow creased with worry.

“Your mother,” I said, “she's a D—”

“Come on, let's get you to the nurse,” Taren said, trying to help me to my feet.

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” I said, pulling away from his touch.

“Ember, please,” Taren said, his eyes pleading, “let me take you to the nurse.”

I stood, wincing with the pain of my fall. “Fine, let's go.”

Kat made as if to follow, but Taren waved her off. “I've got it, Kat. Annys wants to speak with you anyway.”

“Good,” Kat said, “because I've got a few questions for her. You sure you're OK, Em?”

My nod was a lie, but she believed it and strode off in the direction of the main house.

“You better not be seriously thinking you can pawn me off on the nurse,” I said when she'd gone.

“No, I just said that so Kat would leave. Let me take you somewhere I can explain.”

“Explain what?” I said, my voice rising. That your mother is a Daemon? That she's the one who opened the Gateway in the first place?”

Taren's eyes darted, looking to see if anyone was close enough to have overheard.
Satisfied no one had, he said, “Yes. I'll tell you everything, but we have to go where no one can listen. Please.”

I allowed him to lead me down the hill and onto the sanctuary grounds.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I asked when we were well away from anyone else. “How could you make me think I was the only one when your own mother… when
you
are part Daemon?”

“I wanted to tell you, I swear I did, but I was forbidden to.” His eyes clouded with pain.

“By Annys,” I said.

I was sure of that.

“And Master Dogan.”

His words stung like a slap. I had trusted Master Dogan completely.

“They were afraid to tell you too much too soon,” he said.

“Like I would never be able to escape the Demon's voice in my head? And whether I fought or complied I'd be giving It what It wants?”

That had been clear from the vision. It would always be one step ahead, pulling my strings to Its liking. It had already played me—the suicide, my training, and most recently, making me think I was stronger than It. That there was any chance I could defeat it. Taren had known all along.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “When you know I'll do more harm than good?”

“I don't know that,” he said. “You're so strong, and so determined…”

“And Gretchen wasn't?” She had seemed determined to me.

“She was—she is—but your progress has outstripped hers. By your age, she wasn't able to do what you can.”

“Where is she now?” I asked, ashamed that this was the first time the question had occurred to me.

Taren looked toward the path that led into the woods. Realization dawned.