Guardian of the Gate (24 page)

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Authors: Michelle Zink

BOOK: Guardian of the Gate
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I try a couple of times to extricate myself from the dance altogether, but separating myself from my partners and the crowd proves impossible. After a while, I give myself over to it, allowing myself to be spun to and fro until I am dizzy with music and laughter.

I am laughing with giddy abandonment as my new partner, a portly, older gentleman, spins me across the floor, passing me to yet another gentleman.

“Well, I must say, you’re looking a right side better than the last time I saw you.” The voice is unmistakable, though I nearly did not recognize Edmund for the fresh shave and difference in attire.

I grin up at him as we make our way across the dance floor. “I might say the same of you!” And it is true, for he looks well-rested and wears the same costume as the Brothers, somehow giving the trousers and tunic an elegance befitting a man of his age.

He nods. “The journey to Altus is never an easy one, and this one was worse than most. Especially for you. Are you feeling well?”

“Much better, thank you.” I am beginning to feel breathless from all the dancing while Edmund is as relaxed as if he has only been dancing a moment. “And look at you! You’re quite the expert. I would venture a guess this is not the first time you’ve danced on the island!”

His eyes are merry as he favors me with a wink. “I’ll never tell.”

It is the happiest I have seen Edmund since Henry’s death, and a rush of joy and well-being washes over me. I am about to ask him where he has been since we arrived on the island and to what business he has been attending, when he leans in to speak.

“It wouldn’t do for me to monopolize the prettiest Sister on Altus. I’ll see you soon enough.”

And then he is spinning me to yet another partner. I am about to protest that we have only just seen each other again after many days when I realize I have been passed back to Dimitri.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts over the crowd. “I tried to find my way back, but…” He shrugs, whirling me toward the edge of the crowd until we circle right off the area reserved for dancing.

Dimitri keeps us both moving, not pausing for even a moment until I am pressed against the cold stone wall in the shadow of the glowing candles. We stand there for a moment trying to catch our breath. Even Dimitri’s cheeks are flushed, and I’ve no doubt mine are as well.

“Did you have fun?” he asks when his breathing finally slows.

I nod, catching my breath. “It was difficult to keep up at first, but I think I did rather well, all things considered.”

He smiles. “It’s in your blood.”

I bow my head, feeling strangely shy that, in many ways, Dimitri knows more about me than I know about myself.

He tips my chin so that I am forced to meet his eyes. “I didn’t want to share you tonight.” Touching his lips softly to mine, I feel the urgency build in his kiss until he pulls away with what I feel is effort. “You taste of strawberries.”

I am staring at his mouth, wondering how much privacy we can count on in this dark corner of the room, when Astrid comes up behind Dimitri. He does not see her and bends down for another kiss.

“Ahem.” I clear my throat, glancing from Dimitri to the space over his shoulder until he turns to see her.

“Astrid,” he says. “What can we do for you?”

Her face hardens as she looks from Dimitri to me and back again. I know I am not imagining the anger in her eyes. She seems to be measuring her words, wondering at the merit of releasing her resentment. In the end, she simply narrows her gaze and directs her words to Dimitri as if I am not present at all.

“Una has sent word that Lady Abigail is awake and asking for Sister Amalia.”

Dimitri nods. “Very well. Thank you.”

Astrid remains in place as if her feet are nailed to the floor.

“I will see Lia to Lady Abigail. You may go.”

A lick of white-hot fury rises in her eyes, and I know she is angry to be so dismissed. Dimitri
is
her Elder, though, and it seems clear that a certain level of respect is in order. In the end, she does nothing but turn heel and leave, disappearing into the still-swirling crowd.

Dimitri turns back to me. “I know how worried you are about Lady Abigail. Let us go now, and I’ll take you to her.”

I don’t know why I hesitate, for seeing Aunt Abigail is the culmination of our long journey and a lifetime of questions and confusion. It is the key to my own future. To the end of the prophecy.

Perhaps that is why it takes me a moment to nod. To begin moving.

It has been pleasant to lose myself in food and music. Even my confrontation with Ursula was a welcome distraction compared to what awaits. Still, it was inevitable that it would come to this, and so I follow Dimitri from the dining hall, knowing it is the beginning of the end.

And if I am very, very fortunate, perhaps the herald of a new beginning as well.

24

“I feel I must apologize for Astrid.” Dimitri speaks as we make our way to Aunt Abigail’s room. “I’ve known her since she was born, but where I have always seen her as a younger sister, it seems she views our relationship quite differently.”

We are walking the long, outdoor hallway I remember from this morning. It seems to wind all the way around the Sanctuary, and I have no idea where we are in relation to anything else.

I look up at him with a teasing smile. “It’s all right. I can hardly blame her.” I don’t know if it is the wine or the dancing or the stars glittering in the black sky, but the silk of my robes lifts and falls against my bare legs and I feel suddenly very alive.

Grinning, Dimitri reaches for my hand. “I do believe the air on Altus is having an effect on you.”

“Perhaps.” A smile touches my lips as we continue walking, our hands clasped.

I do not know how long we have to speak freely, and my thoughts return to more serious matters. There are things I must understand. “Dimitri?”

“Yes?”

“Why is Ursula so… quick-witted?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You are far kinder than I would be in your place.”

He leads me around a corner, stopping as we come to the entrance of the building. The hallway continues, but it is indoors from here, and I understand that Dimitri desires the small amount of privacy that being outside offers.

“Ursula is the Elder who reigns directly beneath Lady Abigail. Should Lady Abigail pass away, as I am sorry to say may happen soon, Ursula stands to take her place.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with me. I wouldn’t challenge her right to the position; I’m not even a resident of Altus.”

He sighs, and I have the sense that we are having this conversation almost against his will. “Yes, but Lia, there are two other Sisters who hold claim to the position above Ursula.” He looks out into the black night before bringing his gaze back to mine. “Your sister, Alice. And you.”

For a moment, I cannot make sense of his words. “What do you mean? That’s impossible.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. All the Sisters are products of unions between the original Watchers and earthly women.
But you and Alice are direct descendants of Maari and Katla, the originators of the prophecy. It’s why you were chosen as Guardian and Gate. It’s the way it has always been.”

“And?”


And
the Lady of Altus must be as closely related to Maari and Katla as possible. Aunt Abigail was a direct descendant, and other than Virginia, you and Alice are her only living relatives. Her only blood. But Alice is not eligible to take the role because of her current defiance of the Grigori’s rules. Ursula is descended from the same line, though not as directly.”

I shift from one foot to the other, trying to understand what he is saying. “All right, but what of Virginia? She is older than I. Surely she lays greater claim to the position.”

He shrugs. “She doesn’t want it. She renounced her claim when she moved away and was likely not powerful enough to rule effectively anyway.”

I remember Aunt Virginia once telling me that the gifts of the Sisterhood were bestowed before birth. That some of us are inherently more powerful than others. She did not seem to mind admitting that she was considerably weaker than even her own sister, my mother.

“Well, I don’t want it either.” I hesitate before continuing. “Though… I don’t know enough about Ursula to know if she should have it instead.”

Altus and the Sisters, Ursula, Alice, Aunt Abigail dying just down the hall. It is all too much. I lift my fingers to my temples as if doing so will drive it away.

Dimitri takes my hand. “Come. Let’s go to Lady Abigail. The rest will wait.”

I nod, grateful to be led. We make our way through the door and into the inner hallway. Dimitri is beside me every step of the way, and I can no longer imagine bringing the prophecy to an end without his companionship, his loyalty.

Of course, it is not that simple, but I force from my mind the question that rises again and again in the sea of my consciousness:
Where does that leave James?

The room is dimly lit, though not because it is closeted by tightly shut or draperied windows as one would expect in a sick room. On the contrary, two sets of double glass doors are left open to the warm night air. The breeze off the water sighs against the curtains, causing them to rise and fall with a breath all their own.

Dimitri remains near the door as I enter the room. Una comes toward me while two Sisters move about in the background. One pours water into a bedside cup. The other shakes out a blanket from the massive wardrobe near the window.

“Lia! I’m so glad you’ve come.” Una leans in, kissing my cheek. She speaks in a low voice that is not quite a whisper. “Lady Abigail woke up about a half hour ago and began asking for you immediately.”

“Thank you, Una. I came as quickly as I could.” I look over her shoulder at the figure on the bed. “How is she?”

Una’s face becomes grave. “The Elders say she may not last the night.”

“Let me go to her then.” I step around Una and make my way to the bed, nodding at the Sisters tending Aunt Abigail.

As I come closer to the bed, my steps slow involuntarily. I have long waited to meet Aunt Abigail in person. Now it is a moment I do not want to pass. I steel myself and move forward, though, for what else is there to do?

When I finally stop at the side of her bed, the stone around my neck begins to pulse with a vibration I can nearly hear. I pull it from within my robe, cupping it in my hand. It is as hot as if pulled from a fire, yet it does not burn the soft flesh of my palm.

I slip it back inside my robe and look down at my aunt. I have always imagined her vibrant and full of life as she surely was in the time before her illness. Now her skin is as thin and wrinkled as crepe, her form so small it is barely visible under the coverlet. The breath leaves her body in painful rasps, but when she opens her eyes, they are youthful and vibrant, as green as my own, and I recognize her as my grandmother’s sister.

“Amalia.” She speaks my name almost the moment her eyes open, as if she knew I was standing there all along. “You’ve come.”

I nod, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Of course. I’m sorry it took me so long. I came as quickly as I could.”

She attempts a smile, but the corners of her mouth only barely lift. “It is no small journey.”

I shake my head. “No. But nothing could have kept me away.” I reach for her hand. “How are you feeling, Aunt Abigail? Or shall I call you Lady Abigail as the others do?”

She begins to laugh but it ends in a series of coughs. “Please do me the honor of calling me Aunt Abigail.” She sighs, her voice fading with melancholy. “It seems a very long time since I was Abigail. Since I was simply a daughter, a sister, or an aunt.”

“To me, you will always be Aunt Abigail.” I lean in and kiss her dry cheek, marveling that she can feel so familiar.

The chain holding the adder stone around my neck spills out the neckline of my robe, and Aunt Abigail reaches toward me with one hand, touching the still-hot stone.

“You have it.” She lets it fall back against my chest. “Good.”

“What is it?” I am unable to hide my curiosity, even in the face of her illness.

“Glain nadredd.” I do not understand the words, but they leave her mouth in a sigh of remembrance. When she next speaks, her words are clearer. “It is an adder stone. But not any stone. Mine.”

I lift my hand and hold it against the stone as if doing so will unlock its secrets.

“What is it for?” I ask her.

Her eyes drift to my wrist and the medallion that is visible along the sleeve of my robe. “That.” She pauses again as if for strength. “All the Sisters on Altus have a stone imbued with their magic. Its strength depends on its owner. Mine has
protected me from harm, healed me when ill, and bolstered my power when required. Now it will protect you from the Souls, even as you wear the medallion of the Gate. Even as your closest friends fall to Samael’s power. But it will not work forever, and when its power,
my
power, wanes you must imbue it with your own.”

“How long will it last?”

“At least until you reach the pages. If fortune is with us, a bit longer. I…” She licks her dry lips, and I pause in my questioning to offer her water that she refuses. “I emptied myself of all my power, child, and poured it all into the stone.”

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