Grail of the Summer Stars (Aetherial Tales) (30 page)

“A similar thing happened to a friend of mine. She was convinced she was human, then discovered otherwise. Of course it freaked her out. It’s bound to. It’s rare, but maybe more common than we realize.”

As they spoke, Stevie ran through one search after another, trying to find some recent trace of Daniel. “I wonder about Danny,” she said. “Perhaps he’s a reborn Aetherial too? How else could he have channeled all those visions?”

“It’s possible, but there are some humans who are hypersensitive to Aetherial energies. They might become witches or psychics or visionaries. Or be locked up, if they’re unlucky. We call them
naemur
.” Rosie leaned on folded arms on the table. “It sounds like Daniel may have had that gift, or misfortune.”

Frustrated, Stevie entered “Danifold” as a domain name. A cloud storage site appeared, containing private files, accessible only by password. She bit the side of her lip. Remembering the name on Daniel’s shopping list, she typed in “Poectilictis.”
Incorrect password
, came the message.

Then she remembered the curved arrow drawn over the word, and tried again, backwards. “Sitcilitceop.”

The folder opened to reveal a list of digital image files. She clicked on one, and up came a painting in Daniel’s distinctive style; three silver creatures were chasing on all fours across the foreground, and standing on a hill above them was a red-haired figure with her hands outstretched like a saint giving blessing. Aurata again.

“Yes,” Stevie said, amazed. “He left me the password! Look, Rosie, all his artwork must be on here.” She opened one after another, seeing a dozen scenes that Mist had described from his life. Aurata seemed to feature more than anyone else, which might indicate that Rufus was still obsessed with her memory. “This is unbelievable.”

“And a text document,” said Rosie. “SS.doc. Updated yesterday. Your initials, no?”

“Oh my god.” Stevie’s hand shook and she fumbled to get the mouse pointer in the right place. The document opened to show a letter.

Stevie I’m so sorry. How did he get the triptych from you? Should never have sent it sorry sorry. He said I’m painting the end of the world but he won’t explain what he means but it’s forbidden knowledge. Something’s happening. No one knows but you and me. He brought me to Nevada a house called Red Cedars in Jigsaw Canyon. It’s like a fortress. He’s furious, won’t let me go. I’m so scared now. Can’t explain more, I’m so afraid but tell mum I’m all right.

The message ended abruptly, as if Daniel had been interrupted. Stevie sat back, pushing her hair off her clammy neck.

“Nevada?” she said. “That’s virtually on the other side of the world.”

“You can reply to him,” said Rosie.

“How?”

“Just write a new document and upload it.”

“Yes, of course, I didn’t think.” She placed her fingers on the keys, then let them fall. “No … it’s obvious he’s in danger. What if Rufus, or whoever’s holding him captive, finds out he’s communicated with me? What can I say? ‘Come home, your mum’s in hospital,’ or, ‘Hang on, we’re coming to get you’? If the captor sees it, Dan could end up in even worse trouble.”

She closed the document and pressed Delete. “There. If he looks again, he’ll know I’ve read it. I hope.”

Rosie pressed a warm hand on her shoulder. “At least you know where he is.”

“I have to fetch him.” Stevie groaned. “But how can I go to America? I’m not sure I’ve enough money to book a flight, let alone hire a car. I haven’t even got a passport! He said it’s a fortress and he’s scared. What the hell am I going to do?”

“Deep breaths,” Rosie said firmly. “I said we’d help you and I meant it. You know there are ways to travel other than crossing the Earth’s surface, don’t you? Aelyr ways.”

12

Waterfall Dreams

An overnight snowfall was melting as they climbed the hill towards the Great Gates. Lucas led the way, Stevie and Mist following with Sam and Rosie behind them. Grass squelched underfoot and a damp cold breeze sighed past. The landscape was desolate; bare trees, brown bracken and rocks pushed out of the colorless grass.

They were dressed as if for a camping trip in thick clothing, heavy boots and waterproof jackets, with small rucksacks to carry essentials. Stevie, who loved her bohemian dresses and jewelry, felt odd in jeans. She was nervously excited. It was so good to feel they were doing something—and she couldn’t believe the generosity of Lucas, Rosie and Sam in agreeing to guide them. Her
fylgia
was on her shoulder, barely visible.

Luc had explained that there were shortcuts. A path that lay across the Earth’s surface, linking two distant parts of the Otherworld, was a
conlineos
. One that led through the Spiral, linking far locations on Earth, was an
antilineos
.

Mist had nodded, as if this made perfect sense.

Their combined confidence buoyed Stevie’s mood. She’d replied to Dr. Gregory’s email,
“Tell Frances that we’ve heard from Daniel, he’s alive and we’re trying to find him. Give her my love. She has to hang on.”

“I thought entering the Otherworld would be more exotic than this,” she remarked.

“It’s as exotic as you like, on a celebration night,” said Rosie, “but for a journey, it’s best to go commando.”

Sam burst out laughing. “Rosie, you do know that ‘going commando’ is slang for not wearing underwear?”

Rosie giggled. Even Mist smiled. “Well, I’m not wearing any,” she said.

“Works for me,” said Sam.

Before they’d set out, Lucas had argued that there was no need for Sam and Rosie to come, that he could guide Mist and Stevie perfectly well without an escort. Sam had flatly told him he had no choice. They were coming, whether he liked it or not, partly because there was safety in numbers and partly because they didn’t want to miss the adventure. Lucas had acquiesced with a show of reluctance, but Stevie suspected he was more grateful for their company than he’d admit.

Stevie could see nothing that resembled gates. At the peak of the hill there was a dip in the ground, and on the far side a huge outcrop of weathered, cracked granite tilting out of the earth. As they descended into the dip, its bulk towered over them.

“These rocks are remnants of a long-dead volcano,” said Luc. “Apparently the Aelyr decided it was the perfect disguise for the master portal.”

They climbed to the roots of the rock. Stevie placed a palm on its cold, granular, age-old surface. Then Lucas raised both hands and drew down the Dusklands around them, the first layer of the Aetherial realms. The atmosphere turned a fluid blue and became full of moving shadows. The outcrop itself changed. It grew bulkier and dome-like, shining with runes that sparkled and flowed over the surface like projected light.

“We’ll go in through the Lychgate,” said Lucas, pushing his hand into a crack barely eighteen inches wide. “We open the grander ways only on special occasions. But the Lychgate’s always open, so any Aetherial can come or go as they please.”

“Not very secure,” said Mist.

“It’s not supposed to be,” said Lucas. “That’s the point. I’m only here to keep an eye on things, not dictate who goes in or out.” He exchanged glances with Sam and Rosie. “The hundreds of hidden portals across the world are all controlled from the Great Gates, and it’s my job to keep them open. Or to close them all, if there’s a major threat of some kind … but let’s hope it never comes to that.”

The crack in the rock looked like nothing unusual to an untrained eye. Lucas pushed his way into the darkness. Stevie followed, then Mist, with Rosie and Sam behind them. The walls squeezed her and a chill crept over her skin: instant claustrophobia. The air smelled of deep caves.

Lucas said over his shoulder, “Stevie, have you got a brand?”

“D’you mean a flashlight?”

“No. Brand, as in a symbol burned into your skin.”

The question startled her. “Not that I’m aware of. It’s a bit late to strip and examine myself, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Sam with a smile in his voice, adding “Ow!” as if Rosie had inflicted a light physical rebuke.

“I should have asked before,” Lucas went on. They were pushing their way through a narrow, curving passage that made her think of the entrance to a burial mound. “When a Vaethyr born on Earth enters the Otherworld for the first time, they’re likely to meet a band of hunters called Initiators who insist on branding them with a spiral mark. It leaves a scar.”

“As if we’re cattle?”

“Pretty much. It’s part of initiation. It’s a weird old Aelyr tradition, as if to say, ‘We know who you are and we claim you.’”

Rosie said, “It’s an honor or an assault, depending on your point of view.”

“But how will they know I’m unbranded?” Stevie felt a rising tingle of dread.

“I don’t know,” said Lucas. “They just do.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, yes, it stings like hell,” said Rosie. “And it can give you a load of strange visions, too. That’s part of the initiation ritual.”

“I haven’t got time for all that,” Stevie said brusquely, alarmed.

“I know,” said Lucas. “If a band of Initiators scents you, though, it’s going to be fun trying to escape them.”

“Should we even be doing this?” She glanced around at Mist. “No, I’m not going to let it stop me. If they catch me, they catch me.”

“It will be all right,” said Mist, touching her shoulder.

“How do you know?”

She heard Sam laugh. “He doesn’t. But don’t worry, we’re veterans at this stuff; we’ll do our best to keep you safe.”

For a time they followed a curving labyrinth. Stevie kept feeling symbols carved into the walls. Then a fragrant draft blew towards them and a triangle of cobalt light appeared.

Lucas led the party out onto a slope of lush grass that plunged towards a forest. Trees as tall as sequoias swayed like a sea in slow motion against a sky whorled with stars. There was no snow on this side. In contrast, the air was warm and deliciously scented with pine resin. It smelled like incense. Stevie felt light-headed, overwhelmed by the subtle unfamiliarity of this new realm; the scents and deep oceanic colors and the astonishing whirlpools of stars.

They’d stepped from a fissure in a rock that, looking back, appeared far smaller than the one they’d entered. Trees and brambles embraced its flanks. A path wound downhill and curved out of sight between the tree trunks, subtly shining like a snail trail, or dew.

Stevie’s four companions formed a protective diamond around her, with Lucas leading the way down the path. Luminous dust swirled around their feet. Stevie realized that the light came from clouds of tiny fireflies.

“Why is it always night here?” said Rosie. “I swear, every time we come through, this part of Elysion is always dark.”

“It’s the Aetherial realm showing off,” said Sam. “Creating the right atmosphere to intimidate the newcomers.”

“Is he always so cynical?” said Mist.

“Oh, yes, Sam can be relied upon for it,” said Lucas. “That lack of respect is really going to land him in trouble one of these days.”

“What d’you mean, one of these days?” said Sam. “I’ve not only got the T-shirt, I’ve got certificates and medals and a prison record to show for it.”

At first, Stevie thought she was all right. Then, with every step, she grew more light-headed. The others were looking all around as they went. There was no obvious sign of anyone following. The forest surrounded them in all directions, rustling with an eerie life of its own.

The trees themselves were sentient, she suspected. The very ground beneath their feet reacted to every footstep.

The whole Spiral is alive and aware.

This knowledge filled her as if she’d always known it. The firefly light of the path was hallucinatory. Elysion became distorted, as if seen through water. Her companions’ voices echoed but she could make no sense of the words … She wondered if, despite their protection, the Initiators had branded her already, their attack stealthy and invisible.

Now Sam and Rosie were helping her to walk. They all seemed to be half-floating, as if wading along the bottom of a lake. She struggled to keep her feet. She saw unexpected movement out of the corner of her eye, and she heard Mist’s voice murmuring in concern, fading … A dark figure flitted past her into the trees, vanishing.

She was aware of a commotion around her, raised voices. All she heard clearly was Rosie asking, “Where is he?”

“Never mind.” Sam’s voice, strong and determined. “Keep going, Luc. Just keep going.”

*   *   *

Stevie found herself being carried down a steep slope defined by a rock wall on their right and pale birches on the left. Above, the sky shone with rivers of stars. These celestial bodies emitted a sound like rushing water.

She tried to cry out, but couldn’t make a sound. Elysion was wondrous, terrifying. They were sinking into an ultramarine gully. She made out a shape, some kind of building in silhouette, a cottage …

Her companions helped Stevie over a threshold. The vast, underwater blue world was replaced by a golden-ivory cell: a room aglow with firelight.

Her dizziness began to recede. Strength returned to her limbs and her tongue felt as if it might eventually work again; but for now she was speechless, disorientated. Sam helped her to sit down on a soft mound. The floor was carpeted with soft dry moss, more like a meadow than a normal floor.

“Are you okay, honey?” Rosie asked, kneeling beside her.

Stevie looked around. The fey room was odd but not alien. Mossy mounds and cushions surrounded a low round table like a solid disk of lapis. Containers on a long wooden worktop and a water pump indicated that this was a kitchen of a kind. She saw Sam, Lucas and someone new, an angular yet graceful woman in a long plum-colored dress. This woman had long, crinkly black hair around a striking face that was all bones and hollows.

But where was Mist?

Stevie caught her breath, her heart rate rising as she tried to process his absence. No … she looked over her companions again, very carefully, in case it was a trick of her disordered mind. There was only Lucas, Sam and Rosie, and the witchy inhabitant of the cottage. All had grave expressions that perturbed her even more.