The Fifth Portal: a supernatural urban fantasy action adventure (Cards of Death book 5)

by Tamara Geraeds

  I force myself to keep my eyes open when the sand lion turns its attention back to me. I will face my fear and my death if I have to. And I will fight, even if it is in slow motion.

  Of course, that’s all just wishful thinking, because as soon as the lion moves in, I close my eyes in a reflex. My chest contracts heavily as the sand penetrates my flesh and moves around inside me. My eyes bulge, and my heart stops beating. I feel weightless as I fall sideways and hit the ground. Inside I’m screaming and fighting, but not one muscle moves on the outside, except for my eyes, that slowly blink open. I breathe out and lie there, staring straight ahead, not able to suck in new air.

  Maël! I scream without sound. Fight the evil that makes you do this. Stand up and help me!

  She doesn’t. She just sits there, her head touching the ground, her eyes closed.

  My insides itch like crazy, and my mind gets fuzzier with every second that ticks away.

  I’m dying. Cold spreads through me as the realization hits me. I’m actually dying.

  CHAPTER 4

  The dark has taken over most of my vision when the wriggling inside me changes. I can feel the grains of sand moving faster.

  This is it. It’s sucking the last bit of life out of me.

  My fight is over. There’s nothing left in me to fight with. No breath, no energy, no strength.

  All I have left are blurry thoughts. No pain… universe… gone… wrong…

  I can no longer feel my body, and my sight is completely gone. With everything around me black as night, I can’t tell whether I’m asleep or awake. Dead or alive.

  Suddenly, I wonder what will come next. Will I go to Heaven? Or to Hell, because I failed to save the world? Or, much more likely, will I get caught somewhere in between, in the Shadow World, or left on Earth to take care of my unfinished business?

  Maybe I can finish my battle against the Devil as a ghost?

  I smile, even though I can’t feel my lips. I’m not sure I even have a mouth anymore.

  Hey, my thoughts are coherent again! That must mean I’m dead. Floating around in space until someone decides what to do with me. No tunnel of light yet.

  I try to turn my head, and a heavy feeling washes over me. The darkness around me spins, or maybe I do. I’m not sure. Something pats me on the cheek and words tumble out of my mouth. “Please don’t take me to Hell. Let me go back to Earth. I have to stop Lucifer.”

  “You are on Earth, silly boy. Or your body is at least.” There’s another pat on my cheek. “Come on, Dante, open your eyes. The Beach of Mu has left.”

  “I’m not dead?”

  “For a moment, I was afraid you had left me,” Maël’s voice answers. “But no, you are not dead.”

  Carefully, I open my eyes. The bright light reminds me of the tunnel I was looking for only a minute ago. But we’re still in Africa, sitting at the edge of Maël’s camp, in her memory.

  She holds out her hand to me. “Come on, get up. You are fine now.” With ease, she pulls me to my feet. “The sand is gone.”

  Rage courses through me as I remember her words to the sand lion. I pull myself from her grip and fall right back down, my legs too wobbly to hold me, but I don’t care. I stab my finger at her. “You betrayed me! How could you do that?”

  Her eyes grow wide. “Excuse me?”

  “You told that sand to kill me.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “Really, Dante? Of all the things I said, that is what you focus on?” She shakes her head, the look on her face resembling that of a disappointed mother scanning a bad school report. “It was ready to write you off. It thought your violent behavior could not be unlearned. I acted before it could take you out. And I had to make it convincing.”

  The rage churns inside me, and I ball my fists.

  “Listen, Dante,” Maël continues. “I understand where your suspicions are coming from. You knew your friends Paul and Simon for years and never suspected them to be evil. You have known me and the others in your Shield for a very short time, and we are asking you to trust us unconditionally. But we are really fighting for you. For you and the world. You must trust us, Dante.”

  “I do trust you!” The words come out strangled, forced, but I know they’re true. I trust Maël, I trust my whole Shield, so why did I say those things to her?

  She smiles at me, oblivious to the confusion rolling around in my head. “Do you really? You lost faith in me rather quickly back there. The first thing you thought was that I had handed you over to some evil entity.”

  “But I didn’t.” The fear I felt just minutes ago washes over me, and tears spill from my eyes, this time at normal speed. “I didn’t lose faith.”

  She drops down beside me and takes my hand. “What is going on with you, Dante? Tell me.”

  Bile rises to my throat, and I swallow. “I’m not sure. But I’m telling you, I never lost faith in you, not deep inside. There’s just something…” While Maël squeezes my left hand reassuringly, I lift the other and study it. I tell my fingers to move, and they do. “There’s something inside me.”

  Suddenly, I’m sure of it. “Something was controlling my thoughts. Trying to screw with my mind? To drive me crazy?” More tears fall down as my whole body starts to itch. I grab Maël’s shoulders with both hands. “There’s something inside me!”

  The usual calmness that radiates from her doesn’t help me now. I’m almost hyperventilating from panic.

  She looks me in the eye. “Take a deep breath. Nothing is inside you, Dante. It is just the feeling of that crawling sand coming back. But it is gone. It searched your heart and saw nothing but good there. You are safe.”

  “No…” I shake my head so hard everything spins. “No, Maël, it’s something else. Something made me doubt you, and when I woke up, something made me angry. Angrier than I’ve ever been. It was… It felt like…” I search for the right words to describe it. “It wasn’t me.”

  Her eyes bore into mine, searching. The confidence I usually see in them is wavering.

  Finally, she nods. “You are right. Something is wrong.”

  A chill creeps up my spine. “I was kind of hoping you’d say I was hallucinating.”

  “I think I know what is going on, Dante.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Tell me.”

  “You remember what Quinn told us? That the balance between good and evil has been disturbed?”

  “Of course.”

  “I suspect that the consequences of that are graver than we thought. That Beach of Mu escaping from Purgatory again is just a small part of it. You see, every molecule in existence can be pushed to either good or evil.” She waves vaguely at the sky. “Every particle in the universe, whether floating around or part of a living being, can be manipulated. Pulled to one side or the other.”

  I shiver. “You mean, even inside us?”

  “Exactly. Normally your heart and mind control those molecules, but when the balance is tipped off, particles from outside your body might be able to pull you in another direction on their own.”

  She pushes herself up, wipes the sand from her dress and holds out her hand. “Come, we have to go home and discuss this with the others.”

  I take her hand and let her pull me up. It’s a relief to find my legs steady again, even though my heart is pounding like crazy.

  I close my eyes and prepare for the jolt of traveling back to Darkwood Manor.

  When nothing happens, I peer through my lashes. “We’re still in your memory.”

  “Shh,” Maël hisses.

  With my lips pressed firmly together and my heartbeat deafening in my ears, I wait.

  Still nothing happens.

  Eventually, Maël lets go of my hand. Her next words hit me like a bulldozer. “We cannot leave.”

  My heart almost stops. “We’re trapped here?”

  Maël keeps patting her dress with her hands. “For now.”

  I stret
ch out my hand to her. “Try again.”

  “I don’t think─”

  “Just try again, Maël. Please?”

  She must be able to see the fear in my eyes, because she gives in without another word. With my hand held firmly in hers, she closes her eyes.

  I follow her example and try to send good vibes through my arm. This will work, this will work.

  Then I hear a familiar voice. “Dante, can you hear me? Maël? Answer me, please!”

  A worm of worry wriggles through my stomach. It’s not just the panic in Vicky’s voice that triggers it, I can also feel her dismay. It hangs over us like a heavy shroud.

  When I open my eyes, it’s not just Vicky’s face that greets me. The others are gathered around us too, and they all look equally distressed. Even D’Maeo and Mona, who are not easily shaken.

  “Maybe we should just leave them for a while,” Gisella suggests. “They’ll come back eventually. Maybe it’s a long memory.”

  Vicky straightens up with balled fists. “They’ve been sitting here like statues for an hour already! That can’t be normal!”

  Gisella looks away. “No, it can’t be,” she mumbles.

  With a smile, I reach out to Vicky. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re back. Sorry we took so long.”

  Vicky stares back at me with tears in her eyes.

  “What if they never come back?” she whispers.

  “Babe! What are you talking about?” I stand up and wrap my arms around her. “I’m right here.”

  My heart stops beating when I don’t feel anything. I pull back and reach for her hand, but my fingers go straight through hers. My eyes search for a reaction from Vicky, but she’s staring at something behind me.

  When I turn to see what it is, a soft moan escapes my lips. “No!”

  I lean over my own body, sitting eerily still on the tree stump, with closed eyes.

  “Am I dead? Am I a ghost?” I ask Maël while the others continue their conversation, oblivious to our presence.

  The African queen studies our friends and our still bodies and shakes her head. “No, you are breathing. It is like I said: we are stuck.”

  “Okay, okay, so we need a way to fix that.” Stay calm, stay positive. We’ll find a way back.

  My breathing slowly steadies, and I step away from our panicked friends.

  Maël follows. “Do you have any ideas?”

  It’s more wishful thinking than an actual idea, but I can’t let pessimism pull me down again.

  “Yes,” I say as confidently as I can manage. “Can you take us back into your memory and show me everything you intended to show me? I think that’s the key to getting back.”

  She frowns but doesn’t protest. She takes my hand, and with a modest flash, we’re transported back to Maël’s home country.

  We exchange a relieved look, and I squeeze her hand. “Step one complete. Are you ready to show me the rest of your story? I still don’t know what any of it has to do with you hating food.”

  Her mouth twitches. “You will see soon enough. Hold on.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Maël raises her staff high and mumbles incoherent words. Everything around us spins. The sky above us turns from dark to light and back in seconds, and the desert before us moves up and down in waves. As dizziness hits me full force, I close my eyes and grab Maël’s hand tighter.

  After only a couple more seconds, her mumbling stops, and she lets go of me. “You can open your eyes now.”

  I stumble back when I find her whole tribe in front of me, rows of bare backs inches from my face. The old Maël’s voice rings out loud and clear, but I can’t see her.

  “Come on,” the ghost queen says. “Let us take a closer look.”

  We move around the circle until Maël comes into view. Two tribesmen are standing next to her with a young man between them who looks as if he’s about to collapse. Maël nods at a woman, who hurries over and hands the man a bowl of water. He gulps it down with a grateful look on his face, and when he’s done, the queen says something.

  “I am asking what he is doing here,” Maël explains.

  The man looks up at her with frightened eyes.

  “He is giving me almost the exact story the boy did. He escaped an army that took most of his tribe to work as slaves overseas. Another man was with him, but he died from dehydration a couple of days ago. He is asking for shelter until he is ready to move on.”

  When he finishes his plea, Maël stays silent. The whole tribe seems to be holding their breath. The old man I saw before steps to her side and whispers something in her ear. He must be one of the elders. The queen nods and opens her mouth to deliver her verdict, but one of the scouts guarding the man objects before she can utter one word. He speaks urgently, supporting every word with frantic gesticulations.

  Maël listens patiently and consults the elder again briefly.

  While they talk, present day Maël turns to me. “The day we found the boy with the traitor’s mark, I vowed never to make the same mistake again. I am repeating my words now, to my people.” She listens as intently as her subjects do when the queen finally speaks, and translates. “We will not let malicious people change us. We will not be made into a suspicious, vengeful people. Instead, we will show love to friends and enemies alike.”

  Cheers rise up from the crowd, and they bow to her over and over.

  “Feed this man and give him clothes. We will speak with him when he is rested.”

  With a resigned look on her face, Maël beckons me. “Come on, let us follow them.”

  We watch as the man is lead to a small tent. They leave him alone to wash up and give him clean clothes, food and water. Two tribesmen stay outside to guard the tent.

  “Do you want to go inside?” I ask Maël.

  She twirls her staff around in her hand, her eyes glued to the tent.

  “Maël? Are you okay? If this is too hard for you─”

  She blinks several times before shaking her head. “No, I have to show you. Even if we were not stuck here, I should show you. You have a right to know, and maybe…” She leans on her wand so heavily that it sinks into the sand. “Maybe I need to see it too. Maybe it is time to put these demons behind me.”

  And with that, she strolls past the guards and into the tent.

  I’m glad to find the man dressed. He’s stuffing pieces of meat into his mouth at an incredible speed.

  “Wow, he must be really hungry,” I comment, not knowing what else to say.

  Maël walks in circles around him, studying him from all sides. “Yes, he really got into his role.”

  “What do you mean? What role?”

  “I let this man into our camp because of the mistake I made with that boy. I did not want another innocent person to die because of my misguided distrust.” She moves closer to the man, her staff held in front of her, as if she’s afraid of an attack. “One mistake, and it led me to take in someone we should have killed without mercy.” With her jaw clenched tightly, she tries to poke him with her wand, but it goes through him. He doesn’t pause his munching for even a second.

  With a sudden but graceful turn and a swoosh of her cape, Maël heads back out of the tent. “Come, I will show you what happened when we trusted him.”

  Once again, we move forward through her memories.

  When we come to a halt, everything around us still looks the same.

  “How far did we go?” I ask.

  “Three weeks and four days. That is how long it took for him to gain our full trust and prepare his evil plan.”

  A rock lands in my stomach at the sound of her bitter words.

  When she turns, I grab her arm. “I’m not sure I want to see this.”

  “Me neither,” she says, and she strides to the center of the camp, where her double is sitting by the fire, dressed exactly like the Maël I know so well. Her hair is also shorter now, like it is today.

  I swallow several times, b
ut my throat is still dry. Am I about to witness her death? Oh crap, I hope not.

  “That is him,” Maël says, pointing at the man sitting next to her copy on the ground.

  We watch as the two of them exchange stories and carve spears.

  “I am so glad you saved me and took me in,” Maël translates, when the man speaks. “If you had not, I would not have been able to do this.”

  Former Maël smiles at him. “Do what?”

  He smiles back, but in a creepy, knowing way that gives me the chills.

  Maël must see it too and sense the hate suddenly emanating from him, because she jumps to her feet, pulls out her wand and aims it at him.

  “What did you do?” Maël’s translation comes out choked, and I brace myself for what’s coming.

  “Nothing you can fix,” the man answers, his grin growing wider.

  Then the screaming start. Cries of alarm and pain ring out through the camp.

  Old Maël turns and runs, but we are glued to the spot, watching the satisfied glint in the traitor’s eyes.

  More screams erupt from the tents all around me, and when I turn to find Maël, I see her crouched down beside a young woman, who is clutching her stomach and wailing like a tortured bear. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth, and she grabs Maël’s dress, gurgling something I don’t understand.

  The queen jumps to her feet, takes a look at all the moaning and screaming people around her, crawling from their tents or collapsing mid-run, and picks up the wand she dropped.

  She mumbles the incomprehensive words I’ve heard several times now, and I pray with all my heart that she will be able to turn back time and save all these people. But the glowing of the tip of her wand we’re both waiting for doesn’t come.

  A roaring laugh close to me makes me jump.

  The traitor approaches, his face a mask of satisfaction and hate. He lifts his hand and shows Maël a small shiny stone.

  “Looking for this?” Maël translates his words. “Your staff will not help you any longer… queen.”