The Broken Door

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The Broken Door Page 22

by Sarah Stirling


  “Yes,” he said eagerly. “Yes.” This is right. It felt right.

  She approached him with slow, deliberative steps until his gaze was locked by the twin brands of her red eyes, unable to look away. She turned her head upwards, mask shining a bright white. Power flared, enough to overwhelm him.

  Then in a flash two became one. Of one body, one mind, one soul. Seeker could feel her thoughts in his head, her abilities surging inside him, and her memories of the world beyond flashing through his mind in a sweep of colour. Such a beautiful, intricate world; beyond anything like the physical one that he knew. Unite them. Unite the worlds. This was the goal he had sought his whole life. The sense of purpose he had lacked.

  Unite the worlds.

  Seeker reached into the murky depths of the power he could feel – connected to the rift itself – and drew it forth, wind howling as it began to swirl through the cavern. More. More. On and on he spooled out the power until he could barely stand against the sheer force of the wind, roaring in his ears to the same rhythm as adrenaline in his veins. More. It kept coming, a seemingly endless sea of energy, shaking the entire foundation of the temple. Rocks began to tumble, sand caught in the maelstrom. Seeker kept increasing his power. Overhead the sky seemed to darken, thunder rumbling.

  Suddenly a crack boomed inside the cavern. Spirits spilled out in a wave, tumbling together in a waterfall of colour, parting for Seeker in the middle of the cavern as he threw everything he could at the rift. Even as he felt himself tiring he held on, jaw clenched with effort as perspiration dampened his hair. The crack fissured out, unravelling the barrier between worlds. Like plucking a thread, he could feel it fray.

  Yes! Yes! She urged him on even as his body screamed in protest. His vision was darkening, something hot and wet trickling from his eyes. More.

  One last burst and the crack exploded open, spiritual energy swelling as the entire room filled with spirits. As his vision shuttered, Seeker glimpsed one tantalising look at the strange, shimmering world of spirits melting into the room, and then all went dark. His stomach swooped when he fell, scrambling about in the sand as he panicked. I can’t see! His fingers dug into stone and dirt, scraping against rough edges. “I can’t see!”

  Open your eyes.

  Seeker froze, heeding the sheer command of the voice. With a shuddering breath he opened his eyes, and to his dismay it was to utter darkness. Open your eyes! She hissed in his ear and he flinched. That was when he realised: he could sense the world around him; knew even despite his lack of vision what was around him. The spirits still sparkled behind his eyes, as if he’d stared too long at the sun and his vision was spotted with light. They brushed against the connection to his power, tingling softly all around him.

  Rift-breaker, they seemed to say, nothing but a sigh carried by an errant wind.

  Rift-breaker. Rift-breaker. Rift-breaker.

  Seeker rose to his feet and gazed all around him. Where the world had been lifeless and dull it now burst with life. Currents of power ebbed and flowed through everything, from stone walls, to ground, to trees outside, the far-reaching ocean and land beyond. Connected, thriving, surging with new energy.

  And in the centre of it all like a beacon the tablet flared with heat. Seeker ran his fingers across its surface and felt each symbol flare upon contact. A smile found him then, and he felt Niks hum in approval.

  We did it, Seeker the Rift-breaker. We opened the rift.

  *

  Viktor could barely keep his eyes open against the gust. “When did it get so windy?” At this point he wasn’t sure if he was battling the weather or the jungle, branches tearing at his hair and clothes. He kept his arm over his face to protect his eyes. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he struggled to breathe, each gasp stolen by powerful blasts of wind.

  Rook used her blades to hack away at the jungle growth behind him. She had grown more dejected than he had ever seen her, a severe expression shading her face as she attacked a tree branch over and over until it snapped and tumbled, catching the net of vines. Her pale hair streamed behind her in the wind, her yell caught by the storm.

  “I think you got that one,” he called, sarcasm lost to the effort of being heard over the gale.

  “It’s all I’m good for.”

  Viktor paused, wiping at his face. “Are you sure that’s true?”

  Rook turned back to look at him.

  “You came back. You could have run away but here you are.”

  “It’s too late. The rift is rupturing as we speak.”

  “So what? Do we give up and go home? Why are you here? Why did you come all this way if you’re going to give up now?”

  “What do you know? You’re just a––”

  “Good for nothing? I already know that.” Even Viktor could feel the energy buzzing in the air, squealing like the high-pitched warble of a cicada. It felt like the ground was vibrating beneath his feet, but when he looked down nothing moved. “I’m a good for nothing but I’m here. Because you convinced me I should be.”

  “Viktor, I – I’m not able to deal with this myself.”

  At that whispered confession the wind faded into a soft breeze, everything stilling once more. It seemed like everything had gone back to normal, until Viktor looked at Rook’s widening eyes and then he saw them: reams of riftspawn all around them, more solid than before, with clearer shapes. He could see the details of their faces now, even weirder than he had ever imagined. They floated above them in the sky, and skittered around them through the underbrush, glowing in the darkness.

  For one terrifying moment Viktor thought they were surrounded, until he realised that the riftspawn maintained a distance from them as if afraid to get too close. “There’s so many of them,” he murmured, craning his neck. “Everywhere.”

  “And now they’re no longer tethered to the rift.”

  “But they’re harmless, right? I mean none of these ones are trying to harm us.”

  Rook bit her lip, grip tightening on the handles of her blades. “No. There will be others. Ones that try to harm us.”

  A rustle of leaves startled them both and they shared a quick glance. After a long moment of silence it was followed by a shrill laugh, the kind that racked shivers down Viktor’s spine. In the darkened jungle it was nearly impossible to see, other than the soft glow of tiny riftspawn, and the slightest tremble of a leaf or the flight of a bird suddenly took on a more sinister edge to his tense mind.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he asked.

  Rook’s head was cocked, listening. Finally, she nodded. “It’s Alik.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Run.”

  Rook tore off into the jungle, leaving Viktor stunned. Suddenly alone in the darkness, he felt his heart rate increase, throat tightening. “Hey, wait!” he yelled after her, voice hoarse. “Wait for me!”

  Viktor followed the sounds of her footsteps and the path she cleared through clawed branches and low hanging vines, breath loud in his ears. Riftspawn scattered in his wake, little blobs of colours in the deepest depths of the darkness. Cursing Rook with every step, he felt the hands of the jungle try to pull him back, clothes tearing. The thought was enough of a distraction that he tripped on a hidden rock and went tumbling, falling down a steep incline until he hit the wide base of a tree. Blinking, disorientated, he gasped for breath.

  It took a few moments for the pain to catch up with him, blinking against the confusion of his fall. A groan escaped him as he tried to get up, but a sharp, searing pain flared when he moved his ankle. “Rook!” he yelled, barely able to see anything beyond his own hands. “Rook! Where are you?”

  A crashing noise resounded nearby and then leaves crunched somewhere ahead. Viktor squinted, trying to make out the shadow that appeared before him.

  “Rook?”

  The figure cackled, that same barking hack that Viktor had heard before. Not Rook. With a strangled yelp Viktor scrambled back, falling over the exposed root of the tree an
d tumbling onto his back, just as the creature began to glow, the skull beneath the sagging skin lighting up in a pale, eerie blue. It cast the eyes in deep shadow. They stared straight at him, lifeless in a head twisted at an unnatural angle.

  Viktor willed himself to move but he was mesmerised, frozen as he stared at the creature swaying towards him, muscles locked in fear. His tongue was plastered to the roof of his mouth, dry, scream lodged in his throat. The creature was close enough that the smell of rotting flesh clogged his nose and he gagged. Bone was exposed, flesh peeling away, and yet still it came for him, clicking and hissing.

  With a hint of delirium, Viktor’s hands roamed the underbrush for anything he could find, scrabbling in the leaves and dirt. Stones cut into flesh. Fingers found purchase on a fallen branch, bark scraping against his skin. Just as the creature reached out to grasp at him, Viktor swung around with a defiant cry and smacked the creature to the ground. Not daring to look back, he jumped to his feet, ready to run until he saw it.

  The head, cleaved from the shoulders, tumbling away into the undergrowth.

  Var Kunir take me, he thought, staring. And yet the body continued to shuffle forward, headless, the scene of his worst nightmare. Viktor couldn’t even fathom what his eyes were seeing as he staggered back, careful of his footing so as not to fall again. The corpse was aglow now, emanating the faintest blue aura. It looked like fire.

  Viktor clenched the tree branch in his fist hard enough that his hand shook, waving it in front of him in stilted arcs. Fight. The voice in his head commanded him to fight back, to not let this thing take him like it had taken Alik. But how could he fight something beyond the realm of what he knew? Headless, the body lumbered towards him, quicker than he anticipated. He yelped as he threw his body backwards.

  “Stay back!” he cried, still swinging.

  Suddenly a light flitted into the periphery of his vision, glowing red. Viktor blinked, frowning. It was the riftspawn that had followed him from before, fins fluttering as it snaked down to his eye level. He didn’t know whether to be afraid or relieved of its presence.

  The moment of distraction cost him as the headless creature bowled into him and knocked him to the ground, black blood dripping onto his face, hot and sticky as clawed hands found his neck. Viktor could feel some kind of force tug at him, body stilling as fatigue swept over him. Try as he might he couldn’t even find the energy to scream, nails digging through the dirt. Panic set in and he struggled to move weary limbs.

  Then a blast of light hit them both with a shock of power and the body above him stilled, slumping lifeless over him. Viktor shoved it off him, wiping blood from his face, and looked around him in awe. The jungle was filled with hundreds of riftspawn, illuminating the trees around him like strings of colourful lanterns, weaved together to form a kind of protective net around him. The sight was breathtaking.

  A sense of serenity swept over him as they gathered around him. Energy swelled in him as their lights dimmed into a faint glow. He sucked in air greedily, feeling rejuvenated.

  “Viktor!”

  His head whipped around as Rook crashed through the trees, scattering the lights of the spirits into darkness and leaving him bereft of their comfort. Rook bent over, breathing heavily.

  “Are you all right? I had to fight my way back here but there are so many.”

  He accepted her proffered hand and she hauled him to his feet. “I’m all right. I think. But we still need to worry about…” He glanced down at the body uneasily.

  Rook stiffened at the sight. She marched over to the corpse, hand over her mouth as she looked at it. “I’m sorry, Alik.” Her eyes closed for a moment, sweat shining on her face from the dappled moonlight through the canopy. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, voice cracking on the last word.

  Viktor kept a respectful distance, fidgeting with his hands. His clothes were ripped and torn, and he knew it wasn’t really the time to care about something so trivial, but it upset him all the same. It was like some kind of sign: you just aren’t meant to have nice things. Without thinking, he kicked at the ground, throwing up leaves and dirt. Inside his emotions swirled in a maelstrom, threatening to break free. Something was happening to him, but he didn’t know what.

  The crunching of leaves alerted him to Rook walking back, expression determined. “It’s going to seek another host but we’ll have to be quick. With the rift opening like this I don’t know how far it will be able to go without one.”

  Viktor nodded. “Can you still sense it?”

  “Yes.”

  Rook began to walk through the trees and he followed her, surprised but no longer concerned to find the red riftspawn flitting around him. “Hey, little one,” he said, raising his hand to it. It swooped away before circling back, drifting towards his hand again. It stopped just before it touched his skin. “What is with you? They never touch me.”

  Rook glanced back at him, brows drawn together. “Never?”

  “No. Does that mean something?”

  “When I found you there was so much spiritual energy all around you,” she said, “like you were some kind of beacon.”

  “Yeah, I was completely surrounded by them. I think maybe they were trying to protect me from that thing. Is that possible?”

  “It is possible. Most riftspawn aren’t harmful, and many are curious about humans, but to actually help you…” she trailed off, eyes roaming over his face in a way that made him want to shield himself.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “I think there is deep water beneath the surface.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She snorted. “It wasn’t an insult. It’s a turn of phrase. You know,” she said, waving her hand, “that there’s more to you than you appear to be.”

  “I don’t really think there is.”

  “Hm. Your friend over there seems to disagree.”

  The red riftspawn undulated through the air, its form more solid than before, and the black markings more defined against the rest of its body. It seemed happy to hover around him without ever coming close enough to touch. He found he could almost sense its movements without even looking at it, as if it was making noises in a frequency only he could hear.

  “It happened the first time we came to the rift, remember? They didn’t touch you then, either.”

  “Do they touch you?”

  “Yes. Some are wary because of the Rook. But they will make contact.”

  “That thing seemed to want to hurt me.”

  Rook’s mouth tightened, eyes going cold. “It’s only going to get stronger the more the rift stays open like this.”

  “Is there a way to close it again?”

  “In theory. When I trained with the Order in Lyrshok, we researched and researched, but nothing was conclusive. Most of the books have been taken or banned, or burned. It isn’t considered proper to study these things anymore.” Her smile was rueful even as her eyes were alert on the jungle ahead. “Accounts from the past are hard to come by and many have nothing of use. The more recent attempts at investigating the world beyond turned up nothing, although those were some years ago.”

  “Investigating? You mean entering the otherworld?”

  “Yes.”

  Viktor contemplated this, reeling from the idea. Entering the realm of spirits was supposed to be nothing but a fairytale to entertain children, of a strange and colourful world where rules didn’t exist. Either that, or it was the raving conspiracies of madmen. It was like trying to enter the realm of the dead: it simply shouldn’t be possible. Then again, there was much he had thought impossible that he’d only just began to learn of; had merely skimmed the surface of a vast ocean of knowledge.

  “What did they find there?”

  “No one has ever come back.”

  The words strung out between them, stretching taut in the quiet of the jungle, disturbed only by the song of an owl and the rustling of the trees as Rook hacked at stray branches. If no one had ever
come back, what happened when that world bled into this one? When it was no longer certain which world was which?

  “How many have tried?” he finally asked, swatting at a fly.

  “Several. I’ve read the journals of three. All hoping to make some new discovery, only to disappear forever. Never to be seen or heard from again. I don’t think it’s possible to come back.”

  “What does that mean for us now?”

  She paused to look at him. “I don’t know, Viktor. I’m not sure I want to find out.”

  At that moment a scream pierced the hush of the jungle, startling him so severely that his heart leapt in his chest, body freezing. Who else would be out here, on an uninhabited island, in the middle of the night? They turned to meet each other’s gaze, mirrored expressions of shock and uncertainty.

  Rook’s expression turned defiant, lifting her blades. “Come on, we should help them.”

  “We don’t even know who it is,” he said, struggling to match her pace through the trees.

  “Does it matter? That thing is out there right now.”

  “Right.” He felt slightly guilty for giving into the fear. For a moment it had almost been a relief that someone else was drawing the attention of that monster so he wouldn’t have to. But then he remembered Alik’s sightless eyes as the head had rolled and bounced in the grass, and felt disgusted with himself. No one deserved that.

  Viktor wasn’t trying to be some kind of hero like Rook but he wasn’t a monster. At the very least, he could try to help.

  *

  “I want you to stay here and guard the boat,” Kilai said to Lyss.

  “I came here to protect you. How am I supposed to do that from the boat?”

  “We may need to make a quick get away. Be prepared.”

  Lyss opened her mouth to protest but pressed her lips back together at Kilai’s stern look, clenching her jaw. “Was this merely to appease the Lieutenant?”

  “I have Janus to protect me,” was all she said as they coasted over the shallows towards the shore. Truthfully, she thought it better not to get the soldiers more involved than they had already become.

 

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