Gatewright (16 page)

A
few minutes later, with three key cards, we hailed the elevator, hauling our
meager luggage.  Riven followed us into the small space, confused. 
“What’s in here?” he asked, right before the elevator lurched upwards, and he
lunged out to brace himself.

“It’s
an elevator,” Jack stated simply. “It’s how humans reach the top floors without
stairs.”

“I
was wondering about that,” Riven commented through gritted teeth.

We
also got to explain how the door to our hotel room worked.  Riven
concluded that he must learn more of this magic we called “magnetism” and asked
if he could speak with a “magnetist” at some point.  I desperately tried
not to laugh at him while Jack took it all in uncharacteristically patient
stride.  “We call them “scientists” here,” he explained. 
“Scientists, like mages, come in many varieties.  Those who study magnetics
are called “physicists”.  They are rare and generally considered of high
esteem.”

Riven
nodded seriously.  I would give him
credit,
he
was catching on rather quickly.  Hard to believe that it was just 24 hours
after we’d gotten back from our trial in the Appalachians.

Considering
Riven and I were truly exhausted, Jack left us to grab a few things from the
store for Riven (like deodorant, and a toothbrush).

I
don’t remember the last time I exercised that much, if I didn’t count wandering
aimlessly through the woods.  Sleep wasn’t too far off.  “Are you
doing ok?”  I asked Riven as I settled into bed.  His shirt was nasty
enough that I was pretty sure it was fumigating the bathroom, and he was
borrowing Jack’s pants.  Even in such a short time, his chest had filled
out considerably.  He no longer looked starved, but healthy and
lean.  I consciously redirected my wandering gaze to his face.

“Yes,”
he grumbled, then realized the irony of his tone and reconsidered.  “I
don’t know.”  He contemplated his next words.  “I don’t think the fey
realize what Exile actually means.  I know I didn’t, or ever will like
Jack does.  It’s not even about being home, it’s that this experience… it
strips away your entire identity.”  He met my eyes.  “I won’t be the
same.  Ever.”

“I’m
sorry,” I whispered.  “It’s my fault you came through the gate after
me.  I made you swear.”

He
wrinkled his nose and came to sit on the side of my bed. “I made my
choice.  It’s not actually
bad. 
It’s just different. 
Fey don’t handle change well.  And what I’ve learned here could be
extremely useful back home.  For example, this chemical that Jack says
magic can repress, ‘testosterone’.  It’s a very unusual experience. 
If all human males feel this way, I understand your culture much better now. 
There is such an intense need for physical contact.”

I
didn’t think he was asking, but I reached out and gingerly put my hand on his
leg.  He closed his eyes, putting his own hand on mine, caressing the top
gently. Did he not get any hugs as a child?  A soft smile touched the
corners of his mouth.  Ok,
that
had an effect on me.

I
lost track of time.  In that touch was friendship, yes.  Even
affection.  But something else, too.  I hung in a strange balance,
trying to quantify an experience that refused quick explanation. 

I
should really have just removed my hand and wished him good night, but all the
little strands of affection tied me down stronger than any rope.  He was a
fey, and a member of the royal family.  Not an Exile, even if he looked
it.  He was going through culture shock, in the middle of strangers, and
had a bad case of testosterone, to boot.  My overtired brain was having
adventures it really shouldn’t.  I would be his
friend
, I
vowed.  For both our sakes.

When
Jack returned, Riven shot to his feet like he’d been caught with his hand in
the cookie jar.  Jack paused before he put down a large bag from
Target.  “Uh-HUH.”  He raised his eyebrow at me as he went about
setting himself up for bed, and threw a new white shirt at Riven.  “Here,
cover yourself up before you catch a cold.”

“Catch
a cold?”  Riven was confused but did what he said.  “That makes no
sense.  I’m
atsili
, I don’t control cold.  And what would a
shirt have to do with that?”

I
snickered and pulled up the blanket closer around my chin.

There
was the slight issue of beds.

We
had gotten a room with double beds, and I had assumed that Riven and Jack would
be ok bunking with each other.   Well, I was wrong.  The
prospect of sleeping in such proximity to Jack distinctly unnerved Riven. 
I wasn’t sure if it was a Kusay vs. Becot issue, a fey vs. Exile issue, or a
plain old personal space issue.  Jack refused to sleep in the same bed as
me, claiming he heard I kicked viciously in my sleep. I had the sneaking
suspicion Shawn had started that rumor, but it wasn’t like I could contradict
him with any degree of certainty.

Exasperated,
I told them to work it out and tried to sleep.  I thought it slightly
ridiculous, considering how much room that Jack and I both had.  Back in
college, we’d piled 3 to a bed and 8 to a room when we’d escaped the dry
“underage” dorm for a night of illegal revels.  Ah, those were the good
times… if only I could remember them clearly.

Riven
reached for the pillow on the other side of my bed, about to toss it on the
floor, when I caught his eye and frowned, shaking my head.  “You hurt as
least as much as me.  I don’t bite.” 
Much. 
Now I was
just messing with my self-control.  Maybe I’d just hold his hand before I
fell asleep.  I think he would like that. 
Stop that!

He
squinted slightly, and I could see him calculating if it was a trap or
not.  Whatever verdict he reached, he decided to take the risk and climbed
in.

I
purposefully turned away from him, toward the other bed.  Jack sat alone
at the window, pouring himself a glass of bourbon, looking out over the parking
lot.  The first glass went down in a single gulp.  He set the glass
down gently before refilling it, contemplative and almost sad.  Jack must
have felt my eyes on him, and he turned slightly.  His eyes flicked to
Riven lying next to me and he raised his eyebrow.  Through a series of
subtle gestures, he indicated that if Riven didn’t behave himself, he would
break him.  What Jack didn’t know was that I was probably more likely to
be the offender.  Grinning, I closed my eyes and was asleep almost
immediately.

I
woke twice from dreams where I watched carriages burning with my hands steeped
in gore, and once with a strangled yelp from jumping through a gate and forty feet
to my death.  My breath was loud in the silence of the night.  I was
here.  For now, I was safe.  Jack and Riven were both here with
me.  Yet, I still felt like I was on the brink of panic.  I had to
get back to Azry to survive, but I couldn’t stop the terror that going back
would mean my death.  Or worse.  A horrific image of Riven burning to
death flashed through my mind.  Nausea flooded through me and breathing
grew difficult.  I felt like I was suffocating and overheating at the same
time, smothered by the devils in my own imagination.

“Jan?”
Riven whispered.

“Just
a nightmare.”  I shuddered and hoped he wouldn’t notice my panic. 
What if I
did
open a gate and died falling?  I wished I could
actually look before I leaped through.  Maybe that was Advanced
Gatewrighting, if I even survived to get to that level.

A
long moment passed as I concentrated on breathing in and out.  Then, to my
surprise, the sheets rustled as Riven drew one hand out of the covers and
carefully placed his hand on my shoulder.  An unexpected wave of warmth
filled me from head to toe.  Not the kind of hot-summer warmth, but the
kind found nestling in blankets with hot cocoa, or huddled next to a campfire,
or laying out in the sun in black clothes when the air is still cool.  The
panic drained out of me in a rush and I couldn’t help but smile.  “What
was that?” I whispered.

“Magic,”
he murmured, falling back asleep again.

I
didn’t dream again that night and woke up more refreshed than since I went to
Azry.  My aches and pains were almost gone, except for my feet, which I
wrapped in simple but effective bandages.  I was going to have some badass
callouses after all this was over.

Riven
massacred the scant continental breakfast in the motel lobby.  Sausage and
bacon were both new to him, and he put away almost 2 full plates of that
alone
. 
The staff looked on in alarm as he methodically ate his way through the
buffet. 

“No
wonder most fey don’t like meat.  It doesn’t taste half as good as this,”
Riven muttered.

Jack
agreed wholeheartedly.  “Be glad you weren’t subjected to the Anowir idea
of roast beef,” he told me.  “It’s stringy and tough
-“

“And
tasteless
-“ Riven
gestured emphatically with his fork.

“And
usually has gristle or too much fat or even a tendon.”  Jack shared a rare
smile with his new friend.  “I will recommend that you do stay away from
the coffee, however.”

Riven
peered into Jack’s cup.  “Cream and sugar?”

“How
did you know?”

“May
I try it?  Jan tried to give me coffee when we were in Emor and I found it
not to my taste.  She suggested these additions might make it palatable.”

Jack
handed Riven his mug, and frowned at me.  “Please note, fey are
particularly sensitive to caffeine.  You should be glad he didn’t like
it.”

Riven
sipped, then nodded appreciatively before returning the mug.  “You were
correct.  Cream and sugar do make a significant difference.  Now the
fey just need to learn how to cook meat properly.  You said this was made
of pig?”

As
Jack continued to explain, I sucked down my third cup of black coffee. 
Considering that the fey hadn’t domesticated pigs, they would need to import
them.  I tried to imagine thousands of pigs herded through the Emor gate
and through the fancy halls of the Citadel of Glass and giggled. 
Although, if I could get this gatewright thing down, I could open a gate
at
a pig farm one day.  I shoved the possibility from my mind.  The
ability to open gates anywhere still terrified me.

Re-energized,
I set out toward our grove with exuberance in the chilly morning air.  A
fine layer of frost covered the ground, slowly thawing in the weak
sunlight.  I think Jack was a little suspicious of my good mood, and
evaluated Riven coldly from the corner of his eye.  We piled our
belongings in a corner of the clearing, but I waved both Jack and Riven over
before they got to work.

“So,
um, I know I’m supposed to be a gatewright… but do either of you know how gates
actually work?  I mean, I can’t sense magic, so I feel like I’m blundering
around in the dark.”

Both
of them frowned in thought, and Riven answered first.  “I’ll tell you what
I know, although I’m not sure if it’ll be of much help.  The flow of magic
in Azry is uninterrupted around a gate… it flows into it instead of
around.  No magic flows out of it on the opposite side of the gate
here.  It all flows through to Earth.”  He scratched his head. 
“I know that gatewrights or a team of mages using a hellstone can open a
gate.  But I don’t know anything about hellstones besides the mere fact of
their existence.”  Riven raised his eyebrow at Jack.  “Perhaps you
know more?”

Jack
glared at him and muttered something about Kusay arrogance.  “Hellstones
do something to the flow of magic, but I don’t understand how or why.” 
Riven’s mouth twitched in a cocky smile, and Jack grudgingly added, “however, I
did
hear once that they reverse the current.”

“Okay.”
Riven was right… I wasn’t sure how any of that helped me.  “Then why did
the gates stop closing?”

Riven
shook his head.  “I wish I knew.”

Jack
shrugged.

I
chewed on my lip, disappointed.  Here I’d hoped to have some kind of
enlightening tidbit.  “I guess I’ll just keep trying what I was doing
before.”
Not that my life depended on me making a gate or anything. 
I
drifted off to the privacy of the woods, a few dozen yards from the fey.
 Enough we weren’t tripping over each other and I could still keep an eye
on them.

While
I threw myself around, vainly trying to jump into another dimension, Jack
focused on improving Riven’s coordination and agility. I often paused,
distracted from the task at hand, to watch them appreciatively.  Before
Riven came along, I’d never seen Jack interact with one of his own.  I
couldn’t help take mental notes for research I had no hope of ever
pursuing.  Jack seemed to relish teasing Riven, eyes dancing as he mocked
any slip of Riven’s composure or balance.  Riven doggedly ignored him,
occasionally casting him an utterly disdainful look that soured Jack’s humor.

Each
stepped through predefined patterns of rolls, dodges, and evasions.  Jack
occasionally broke the forms, laughing at his poor memory of what he claimed
had been beaten into him.  Riven’s face clouded with frustration as he
failed to perform with the precision he was accustomed to.  His occasional
clumsiness betrayed that he was having trouble adjusting to his new center of
balance.  I could see why… it looked like he’d gained 20 pounds of solid
bone and muscle since he’d arrived on Earth.

I
felt the odd tingle a few more times, more keenly than before, but I couldn’t
reproduce it with any consistency.  Eventually, frustrated and sweaty, I
sat myself down to try some meditation.  I imagined jumping, recalling the
tingle as clearly as I could.  After deep concentration, my hands buzzed
slightly and I grinned. 
Finally, a step in the right direction.

Between
jumping and focused concentration, I managed to get a more-or-less reliable
buzzing in my hands.  My elation at my progress turned to frustration as I
couldn’t achieve anything past a buzz for the rest of the morning.  I was
fed up and bordering on despair.  What would more days jumping around like
an idiot in the woods get me?  What if the fey found the gate and figured
it out?

“We’re
going home,” I snapped at the fey.  “I can’t do this.  Nothing is
happening.”

“Fuck
that,” Jack scolded me.  “You’re not giving up.  Do you know how long
it takes a fey to control their abilities
?
  Not two days, that’s
for sure.  Hell, you gave
Fallout 3
far more patience than this.”

I
fumed at him silently.  He was right.  Jack judged my mood and
declared we ought to break for lunch.  That’s when Riven grudgingly
admitted he’d ‘accidentally’ eaten his lunch as a second breakfast.  Since
Jack had thoughtfully stashed some extra food in the car,
Riven
unhappily set off on the 3 mile round trip to fetch it.  We were left
alone in the quiet grove to munch away on our sandwiches, Jack oddly silent,
shrugging off my jovial attempts at conversation.  I couldn’t read his
dark eyes, but I could tell he was thinking, calculating.  I’d seen this
look when he was evaluating a painting, or trying to figure out how I’d managed
to kill him yet again in
Soul Caliber.
The unsettling part was that I
was pretty sure that I was the one being analyzed.  “What’s the matter?”

He
brushed the final crumbs from his fingers.  “You know your mother called
me.  She’s the reason I’m here.”

“Duh. 
I knew that when you showed up on my doorstep.”  No one else had known I
was back, and I didn’t
think
that
nagali
powers included that
kind of psychic.

“Because
I was the only person she knew that could take on a fey and not cause a public
disturbance,” he elaborated.

“Well,
obviously Riven hasn’t attacked me yet.”  I finished off my sandwich but
it sat poorly in my stomach.

“How
else is he going to get home?”  Jack pointed out.  “He’s not going to
lift a finger until he’s got his magic back again.  Let me guess, he was a
real charmer in Anowir,” he drawled sarcastically, and let the silence that
followed force me to think about it.

Was
Riven’s kindness to me just because he wanted a way back?  He didn’t need
to come through in the first place. He’d even made the choice to stay.
 But everyone else who saw him make that vow was dead… except me.  So
once he got me on the other side again, would he murder me?  “It doesn’t
make sense,” I declared.  Riven could have slain me in the woods and
popped right back through the gate, no questions asked.  I knew so little
about Riven, but I was utterly confident he kept his oaths.

“I
assume you
also
realize that you’ve put me in grave danger, right?” he
muttered.  “This entire ‘adventure’ puts my life at risk, possibly
destroys the life I’ve spent eleven years making here.  If humans decide
that I was involved in your death, how long do you think I’ll be alive?”  Jack’s
anger was closer to the surface than I’d ever seen it.

I
froze.  “What the hell, Jack, I thought you
wanted
to help.” 
Fear nagged the back of my mind.  Had Riven set him off somehow?  Had
he lied when he told me that my trip wouldn’t destroy our friendship?

“Sure,
I want to help a member of the royal family of my clan’s archrival and help a
gatewright who can’t make a gate.”  He put his sandwich down and leaned
forward.  “I’m married, you know.  I have a son.  He’s three
years older than Thomas.  But you never knew that, did you?  You
never
asked.
”

I
was at a total loss for words.  I had no idea where this was coming
from.  Tears started to burn my eyes.  “I… you didn’t seem to want to
talk…”

“I
lied to you, you know.  For your thesis.  To hide the secrets of the
fey,” he pressed. 

The
words were like needles in my heart, and I snapped, leaping to my feet. 
“Jack, you piece of
shit
.  What the fuck?  I thought you were
my friend.”  My heart was hammering in my chest and my hands shook. 

“If
you can’t make a gate, you are of no use to either me or Riven.”  His eyes
were so dark the whites were almost gone as he rose to his feet as well.
 Reflexively, I backed away.  I’d never seen him like this,
ever. 
Has he lost his mind?
 “You know too much.  You’re
a risk I can’t allow,” he spat, and lunged at me.  Panicked, falling over
myself, I sprinted away towards the woods.  Had he just been biding his
time until he could catch me away from Riven?  I heard his footfalls a few
steps behind my own, and I fought against the disbelief that Jack, my friend,
would turn on me like this.

“JUMP!” 
He suddenly bellowed at me, and without a second thought, I propelled myself
forward with everything I had.  I felt as if I slammed through an
electrical fence. My face smashed into the dirt, and I scrambled to my feet,
still intent on running.  Before I could pitch myself forward, Jack caught
me, picking me up from behind.  The world spun as he twirled in a circle,
squeezing me, laughing, almost crying.

Emotionally
whiplashed, I stood unsteadily as he set me down on my feet, staring at a slim,
narrow portal in the woods directly behind me.  Jack kissed my forehead,
hugged me again, then dropped to his knees.  As if nothing he’d just said
just mattered.  As if his words hadn’t stung like a swarm of bees.

Azry
looked exactly like the human side, except for a few odd plants I didn’t
recognize and trees with more interesting shades of bark.  I watched Jack,
enraptured, as his skin shimmered, tiny, subtle changes all over his body as he
absorbed the magic of the fey realm.  “Blessed is the Mage who gives us
magic,
”
he murmured, closing his eyes.  A tear rolled down his
cheek.  {
Blessed is the Mage who guides our hand}. 
 I
heard his voice inside of my skull and I jerked.  He opened one eye and
winked.  {
I’m
nagali,
or did you miss that when you were
drooling after Riven?}

I’d
figured out he was
nagali
earlier, so that wasn’t a surprise. 
Still, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment; I was
not
drooling after
Riven.  I felt a little silly using my voice to tell him so, but I wasn’t
a psychic.

{Oh,
you clever thing.  Also, you really don’t need to think so loudly.} 
 

He
could read my thoughts?  An image of Riven without his shirt popped into
my head and Jack visibly winced, and switched to using his voice again. “I need
psychic earplugs around you.  So yes, you’ll need to use your voice,
because you have zero control, and I’m not willing to listen to you mentally
shouting about whatever the hell floats through your brain.”

“Well,
I’m
used
to talking,” I grumbled.  “Will Riven be able to find us?”

“He
should be able to sense the magic leaking through.”  Jack hesitated. 
“Although, in all seriousness, Jan, remember that Kusay Vaal is fey, and royal
fey at that.  For your sake and his.  I don’t want to have to remind
you again.”

I
reddened further.  “I know that.”  To escape the awkward silence that
followed, I stepped back through the gate, back to my world. It tingled much
less than opening it had. I shook my hands to try to get it to stop.  Definitely
unpleasant.  I hoped creating gates wasn’t a result of direct emotional
trauma, because that would get miserable
real
quick.  I still hurt from Jack’s words, doubt nagging me.  Had he
meant any of it?  What would have happened if I hadn’t made the gate?