The Broken Door

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The Broken Door Page 23

by Sarah Stirling


  Janus splashed down into the water and dragged the boat up the sand, Lyss following suit with her gun fisted tight in one hand. He didn’t say anything about Kilai not climbing out until she was on dry land, so she shook out her skirts and continued walking into the line of trees. In her hands, the map was crinkling due to the humidity. She tried to hold it at the corners so as not to smudge the ink, to little avail.

  As she was trying to get her bearings, Janus pointed to the ground. “There’s a trail that has been trodden on recently. Look,” he said, crouching down to pull away some of the longer reeds of grass, “this used to be a path.” Underneath were cracked slabs of stone, weeds and lichen filling the spaces between the broken plates.

  “Tell me truly. Are you able to kill this thing? Because I do not want to have come all this way for nothing.”

  Janus’ eyes were dark and impenetrable. She prided herself in being able to read others well and it unsettled her how difficult he was to decipher. “Yes,” he said, and continued walking.

  Kilai stared at his retreating back and then sighed, shaking her head. “You said you used to be a soldier,” she said casually, still looking at her map.

  Out the corner of her eye she saw him stiffen. “I did.”

  “Which army?”

  “Does it matter to you?”

  “I’d say where you chose to put your allegiance is of utmost importance, wouldn’t you?”

  The expression was as close to a grimace on him as she had ever seen. “Don’t know if I’d agree with that. You get paid and you do your job, no?”

  “I think it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

  Janus’s fingers moved to his pocket, hesitated, and then dropped again. As they walked all she could hear was the rhythmic music of the jungle; the drumbeat of a frog’s croak, the humming of insects buzzing around her in the sticky, steamy air, and the lilting melody of a songbird high above. She’d never been anywhere so wild and untamed before, something about it so beautiful and enticing. Even the scents were vivid, perfumed with the heady aromas of tropical flowers.

  “Was in the Sonlin’s forces. Signed up when I was just out of boyhood.”

  Kilai was surprised at herself to find this news disappointing. She’d expected something more unusual; something exciting and illicit that explained the mysterious aura around him. “What is so shameful about that?”

  “Who said I was ashamed?”

  You didn’t have to, she thought, but didn’t say out of courtesy. “Why did you leave, then?”

  Janus seemed to consider this. “Have you ever taken a life before?”

  “I have sentenced criminals to die.”

  “Not the same thing. To kill by your hand. By your own blow.”

  Kilai could admit that this made sense. She wasn’t sure she could kill someone, if it came to it. But she also knew how easy it was to surprise yourself, when facing the unknown. “Would you not be willing to kill for what you believe in? For a cause that mattered? Surely then you would strike down your enemy.”

  He turned to look at her then, lips twisting into a mockery of a smile, eyes hollow. “Tell me, what do you believe in? Other than your family’s legacy.”

  With the question thrown back at her, Kilai could see that she’d been prying more than she’d meant to. What did she believe in? It was not an easy question to answer and it only seemed to grow more difficult by the day. Once, when things were not so complicated, she thought it had been simple. It was hard to imagine that now.

  “I suppose I’ll answer that question when I know the answer.”

  Janus turned back to look at the path, and that was that.

  They continued to tread through the jungle, this time in silence. When neither party were quite willing to be honest with one another it was difficult for real conversation and anything else would feel inappropriate in the wake of such a task.

  Sweat dampened the back of her neck as they followed the route towards the temple Rook had spoken of before, the heat oppressive without a breath of relief from the sea. Her map sagged beneath her fingers and some of the ink was smudging away as the corners began to curl. Kilai wiped her brow with the back of her hand and then paused, soft glowing shapes catching her attention from above.

  Janus noticed her stop immediately. “Riftspawn. Looks like they failed.”

  “What?”

  His eyes were still on a pair that swirled around each other as they dived through the trees, shaped like birds but shimmering more like fish scales, illuminated in a vibrant honey yellow. “Their forms are more defined,” he said. “They look real now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That we’re too late, probably.”

  “There is no such thing as too––”

  The ground rushed towards her as something crashed into her. The next thing she knew she was sprawled out on the ground, groaning in pain. She shoved Janus off of her and sat up, rubbing at the back of her head. “What in the Locker was that for?”

  Janus’ eyes flickered up above them and that was when she saw it. A scream ripped from her throat in surprise as a ghostly face loomed over them, mouth sliced into a grin. The low-pitched laughter seeping from that wounded smile caused gooseflesh to race over her skin. Kilai attempted to roll out of the way, her limbs uncoordinated as she stumbled to her feet and froze.

  A shot rang out, Janus’ gun barrel letting off a puff of smoke. Then they were both running, tearing through the jungle. Panic clawed at her thoughts, sharper than the branches clawing at her face, but she forced herself to focus on possible ways to escape. She couldn’t think. There was no time for thinking when she had to survive. Her own hubris had blinded her. She didn’t know anything about these things that could be of use. How to maim it? Kill it?

  The only thing she could do was run. Run and hope that Janus was able to slay the beast. Not in the habit of relying on others, this was not a particularly comforting thought. She leapt the distance of a thin stream carved into the earth and overbalanced, tumbling through dirt and bushes until she collapsed in a heap at the bottom. A few twinkling stars had managed to escape the cloud cover and were witness to her failure, her chest heaving as she fought to regain control over her breathing. Eventually she sat up, gazing around an eerily silent, darkened jungle.

  The copse was thinner here, leaving more open space between the trees, enough to make her feel exposed. Their thin, spindly stalks taunted her with the alien shapes they took on in the dark. What am I doing? Here she was, inexperienced and out of her element, and hoping she could what? Talk the creature into going away? I have no idea how to handle this, she thought, and felt her fists clench of their own volition. In this strange landscape she felt more vulnerable than she ever had before, every bit the naïve little girl that so many had claimed she was, playing with forces she did not understand.

  Kilai looked at the night sky with the sounds of her own desperate pants filling her ears. Was there really forces out there guiding her hand? Were they looking down on her now, waiting to see how she would react? How disappointing I must be. Or, perhaps, how amusing humans were to beings of immense power such as the gods of the world, running around blind for the entertainment of a secret audience. The thought made her angry, chin rising as she watched the clouds part for the stars in the sky. The moon peered down at the small clearing, river turning silver in its gaze. Everything looked unnaturally pale, contrasted with shadows of the deepest black.

  For a moment she felt a flicker of relief at simply being able to see her surroundings. Then she heard a rustling noise, growing louder and louder at the same rate as her heart picking up speed. Scrabbling in the dirt until she managed to sway to her feet, she thrust her arms out in some parody of a defensive move. Kilai had no way of fighting out of this situation but by the Locker would she try.

  Then the figure burst from the trees and she felt her whole body slump with relief. It was Rook, charging towards her with those gleaming blades exposed, eyes
bright. The closer she came the more she could see how they were glowing with the same silvery light as the moonlight. They focused in on her and she felt herself momentarily tense until the glow faded. Rook blinked, brows furrowing.

  “Kilai? What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing. Last time I checked you were in a jail cell.”

  “You should be glad I’m not,” she retorted. “Are you by yourself?”

  “Janus is with me. Or he was. I’m afraid I’ve managed to lose him.”

  Rook nodded. “He is very… losable.”

  A moment later another figure came crashing through the jungle. Viktor bent over and wheezed as his hands gripped his thighs. “Thanks… for… waiting.”

  Rook patted him on the head. “Sorry, Viktor. I couldn’t risk that someone else became possessed.” Her head whipped around. “Speaking of, did you see it?”

  “Yes,” Kilai replied, “I saw it.”

  “It got away,” said another voice, and all three jumped as Janus stepped into the moonlight, looking like Var Kunir himself when leached of all colour.

  “Janus!” exclaimed Rook. “You’re lucky I don’t carry a gun or I might have shot you!”

  “Sorry,” he said without much conviction.

  “It got away?”

  He turned to her. “Wily bastard nearly got me but I think when it realised I wasn’t giving up it went to look for easier prey.”

  “We have to get back to the city. Before anymore people die.”

  Kilai’s eyes widened. “The riots! There are so many people outside and exposed.” My father… Her stomach clenched. She steeled herself against the onset of panic. I must save him.

  “We don’t even have a boat,” said Viktor, pushing limp hair back.

  “I brought one,” she said, then caught Janus’ eye. “We brought one. And – the soldier!” She’d completely forgotten. “There’s another person here!” She looked around at the small crew of people she had gathered for the task, all looking bedraggled and weary, but somehow still ready to fight. “We can’t afford to make any more mistakes.” Too many have been made already.

  “We still have the problem of the rift,” said Rook, glancing up at the dancing lights of spirits overhead.

  “One problem at a time,” she replied, head feeling clearer than it had before. With all of them working together she felt like maybe they had a chance of stopping the spirit. “First we kill the Gorgei and stop it from taking anymore lives.”

  “And then?”

  Kilai looked Rook in the eyes. “Then I will go with you to Tsellyr. We will speak to the Order together, the mayor, anyone who will listen. We’ll see about fixing this.”

  Rook pressed two fingers of her left hand to her temple and reached out with her right. Taken aback, Kilai took a moment before she grasped Rook’s forearm and pressed her own fingers to her temple; an old gesture that meant minds in union, used for formal agreements. She wasn’t sure what she’d said had warranted such ceremony and yet warmth engulfed her all the same.

  “You know, I wasn’t sure about you in the beginning, but I think I like you.”

  Kilai simply smiled. “Likewise.”

  “Not to kill the moment or anything, but shouldn’t we go before this spirit turns everyone into walking meat?”

  Rook slapped a hand on Viktor’s shoulder as Kilai grimaced. “You’re right. Let’s get going.”

  “I only hope we’re not too late.”

  Kilai turned back towards the boat. Back towards whatever monster awaited them and the rest of their people. It’s never too late.

  *

  “Can you sense it nearby?”

  Rook glanced at Viktor as he used a low vine to propel himself along. With a deep breath she cast her mind out, feeling all the spiritual life within the jungle. For a few heartbeats it was almost overwhelming to feel so many lifeforms tug at her senses. The ghost of a headache was still haunting her, making it difficult to sift through everything to find the specific presence she sought. The Gorgei carried its own specific signature and she recognised the feel of it as soon as the hair rose on the back of her neck.

  “It’s not far,” she said, then felt the weight of Viktor’s gaze on her. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Just the way your eyes glow when you do that. It’s kind of weird, you know?”

  She attempted a smile. “I know. Say,” she said, looking around, “isn’t this near the temple?”

  Kilai took out her crumpled map and frowned at the jungle around her. With a sigh, she scrunched it back up and looked to the sky but it was too murky to see the stars clearly. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  A pulse of energy trembled in the air and Rook shivered. “No, we’re definitely near the rift.”

  “We don’t have to go back there though, right?”

  “You’re not scared, are you?”

  “Of course not! It’s just… a little creepy.”

  She threw an arm around Viktor’s neck and ruffled his hair as he tried to bat her away. “I knew you were scared!”

  “Rook, I swear to Var––”

  “Can the two of you please focus,” Kilai snapped. “There are real consequences if we fail again.”

  “I know,” said Rook, trying to convey sincerity with her eyes, “but if you don’t laugh at it then you might let fear win.”

  “There is still such a thing as propriety.”

  “Perhaps. But what good will propriety do if you’re dead?”

  Kilai glared at her and she felt her mouth pull in a half-smile half-grimace. They’d just started to reach an understanding and she was letting her mouth run yet again.

  “Someone is coming,” said Janus behind them. All stilled.

  “What did you hear?” asked Viktor, stepping back so as to fall in line with him.

  Rook moved to the front, pulling her blades out and crossing them in front as she braced herself, hearing the sounds of footsteps grow louder, feeling each vibration in the ground with her heightened senses. She’d let herself get distracted, despite what she’d said to Kilai, and she cursed herself for it.

  “Wait!” Kilai called as a soldier burst through the trees, coat tattered and torn, hair dishevelled and falling from the tight bun around her face. An arm grabbed Rook before she could pounce, and she looked back at Kilai.

  The woman gasped when she saw them, falling to her knees, relief washing away the tension on her face. “Thank goodness. I couldn’t find you. I thought maybe something had happened.”

  “Did you see it?” she asked.

  “See what?” In the moonlight her dirt-streaked face was shining with tears.

  Rook towered over her. “The riftspawn we’ve been hunting.”

  “I saw countless spirits! I don’t know which you mean.”

  Kilai reached out a hand and helped the soldier up. “Lyss, are you all right?”

  Lyss took a moment to respond, eyes still darting all around her. “I’m fine. Just – disorientated.”

  Something was wrong. Rook’s senses were being overpowered by energy, sour and acrid on the back of her tongue. Blackened energy; the kind radiated from malicious riftspawn who intended to harm. In a flash, she pushed Kilai behind her and drew her blade on Lyss, who looked confused.

  “What are you doing?”

  “She’s possessed. It’s inside her.”

  Lyss’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “I’m not.”

  “I can feel it.” Her head was pounding but Rook stood firm, drawing on the strength of her own bond as much as she dared.

  “She isn’t the only one,” said Kilai, looking between them. “Be careful you do not lose control.”

  “How do we get the thing out of her?” asked Viktor.

  Rook swallowed. “You don’t.”

  Lyss took a step back. “No. I’m not. I’m not! I’m a soldier of the Sonlin’s twenty-second regiment! How dare you anger me in th
is way!” As her voice rose, a deeper timbre resonated beneath it, vibrating through her. Her skull began to glow blue beneath the skin and Lyss screamed, clutching her head. “What’s happening?”

  Rook heard Viktor swear under his breath as he stumbled back, leaves crunching. Pre-empting Janus’ move, she bowled into him, knocking into his right arm. “Don’t shoot! You’ll only kill her and release the Gorgei!”

  “These are reimyr bullets.”

  “You’ll still kill her!” said Kilai.

  Lyss stood, eyes blank as they rolled in her skull. Already her flesh appeared as if it was beginning to melt, warping from the bone beneath. Around her sprang up flames in blue and red and green, bright enough that they illuminated the clearing in which they stood. A laugh escaped her lips, the trigger for a much deeper, full-body howl. Then in the span of a blink she launched herself at Rook, who ducked and swept with her arm but missed flesh.

  She gritted her teeth against the voice in her head that told her she had missed on purpose. Ignore the taunts, she told herself as she pounced forward. The Rook thirsted for the kill. It fed on the energy of other riftspawn like the one inside Lyss. One as powerful as the Gorgei was maddening bait.

  Janus fired off a shot that echoed through the night. With reflexes quicker than an ordinary human thanks to the spirit inside, Lyss almost seemed to defy the laws of her body itself as she bent over backwards to avoid the bullet, and Rook winced when the soldier shrieked in pain. The creature was overpowering her control over her own body with little concern for the human inside, able to feel it all. What agony she must have been in.

  With a sense of reluctance, Rook realised the only way forward was to kill this soldier. But she did not want to. It made her slower, enough so that Lyss struck her over the face, nails digging into flesh, barrelling into her until she crashed to the ground with a thud. The breath left her. Rook stared up into blank, soulless eyes as the creature tugged on her life force, exhaustion creeping in whilst her energy was siphoned away.

  Another shot cracked the air and the creature howled as it was thrust backwards, leaving her free to roll over and clutch the back of her head with a groan, behind the safety of a tree trunk. A pale hand appeared before her and she let Janus haul her to her feet.

 

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