CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I Am the One
Gwynne didn’t fall, like one would normally fall on a real world with real gravity. He floated down toward them, but as he did he changed. His limbs grew longer; his features changed, becoming less boyish, and even his hair grew longer. In the space of a few seconds he became a teen, then a young man, older and older until Charlie feared Gwynne would be older than Rhys looked before he reached them.
Just as white crept into Gwynne’s hair, the process reversed itself, making him younger again. When his feet touched down on the same level as Charlie and Rhys, Gwynne was a boy again. Albeit a few inches taller and a few years older. He now looked closer to twelve or thirteen than nine or ten.
Charlie darted out and snatched up his hand before he could be separated from them again. His tunic wasn’t as loose on his bony shoulders anymore, and the ragged sleeves covered even less of his skinny arms.
“I won’t do that again,” Gwynne said, his voice on the squeaky verge of breaking. His face was pale and his green eyes were wide.
The ground beneath their feet rippled, an ear-splitting screech driving straight into Charlie’s head.
“Move!” Rhys bellowed. He ran, yanking Charlie and Gwynne in his wake.
The mad dash became an uphill struggle as the “floor” beneath them turned into a sharply sloped ramp. Charlie barely kept her footing, stretched between Gwynne and Rhys.
With a groan, the catwalk shuddered. Gwynne lost his precarious balance, his feet sliding out. He still clung to Charlie’s hand. Rhys grabbed for a handhold, but found nothing but air. A second jolt threw him down and all three of them began sliding down the smooth catwalk.
All of them scrambled to slow their descent, but the steep slope sent them inescapably down. Charlie lost her grip on the boys. They tumbled onto a stone floor – or what seemed like a stone floor – surrounded by a gallery of arches.
One of the arches was ribboned in red, nothing but pitch black beyond it. Another Gate?
Abruptly Charlie realized that in this space, the world held still even though she wasn’t holding Rhys’ hand. Charlie pushed herself to her feet and helped Gwynne untangle himself – his legs were longer than he was used to.
“Look, it’s Jack!” Gwynne said.
“Jack!” Charlie cried, starting toward him, but Rhys grabbed her wrist and held her back, his face grim. She took a closer look.
Jack stood upright, but his eyes were blank, his face pale and bloodless.
“Dead again,” Gwynne muttered.
At his words, Jack crumbled into a heap, revealing the woman standing behind him.
“The Mara,” Rhys said.
Charlie slowly backed away from the approaching Mara, keeping herself between it and Gwynne. She turned her hand to grip Rhys’.
“I’ve waited for you a long, long time,” the Mara said, her eyes fastened on Charlie. Those eyes. There was something about those eyes, the shape or the color or something…. Charlie couldn’t pin it down. They seemed to change from moment to moment even though they stayed the same.
The Mara lifted her hand and crooked a finger in beckoning gesture. Charlie felt something pull in the center of her chest. Her foot slid forward.
Rhys interposed himself between Charlie and the Mara. “You cannot have her.”
Charlie distantly felt Gwynne tugging on her hand and heard his frightened whisper. “Run!”
Why would she need to run? She had to pin down those eyes. The back of her mind vaguely recognized that there was something about eyes that she was supposed to remember.
The Mara smiled. Gently. Warmly. Hungrily. “If one cannot use the key to a lock, breaking the lock must suffice. Come, child.”
Rhys lunged at the Mara. She dissolved into green mist, evading his grasp, and coalesced behind him.
“You forget,” the Mara purred. She grabbed his head. Black chains snapped around Rhys, trapping limbs and torso, driving him to his knees. “This is my realm.” The chains wound around his face, covering eyes and mouth.
Something inside Charlie’s chest twisted. “Rhys….”
Forget him, whispered through her mind. Gwynne’s hand ripped away from hers. An ethereal touch at her chin redirected Charlie’s gaze to the Mara’s eyes. Come. Face your destiny.
The Mara turned Charlie to face the Gate. The thick red ribbons crisscrossing it blazed against the black opening.
Destroy it.
***
Mae shivered, every muscle in her body fighting against the instinct to cower to the floor. She ground her teeth together to keep her jaw from quivering. The Mara paid no attention to them on the ceiling, but it was all she could do to make her self move. Even so, it was as if someone else’s hand reached out to grasp at the shadowy bindings. Her hand passed through them with nothing more than a sensation of clammy cold.
“I cannot,” Mae hissed, hardly daring to speak the words for fear of being heard and drawing the Mara’s notice.
“Mae, you can’t use your hands. Use your mind. You have the power. Wield it.”
Mae shook her head. She had no magic. She could not fight the Mara’s power. “I cannot. I could not fight it without your help.”
“You resisted the Mara long before I could help you. You can break these, Mae. You must.”
Mae thought again of William, of the days before they realized she had no talent for magic, when he tried to teach her the trick of it. To shape what she wanted in her mind, and then….
Mae reached again to grasp one of the chains, her hand closing around the writhing black ribbon. She could feel it. She could feel it in her hand, cold and pulsing like a live thing. Her fingers squeezed it tight. She pulled, holding her breath for fear she would lose her grasp on the insubstantial wisp that somehow held harder than iron. Like a rope, it pulled away from its fellows. With a sharp wrench, she twisted it away from him. It shattered in her hand.
She did it. She broke one of the bonds.
Mae grasped another with both hands, more confident in her grip. It broke away. Another. Another.
She could do this. She looked up at the ceiling/floor, where the Mara now stalked the bound vampire. Occupied.
This method was too slow. Breaking the chains one at a time would take an age, and every moment he was away from the Gate was another moment that the Mara could use.
With her mind Mae created a sword of shadows, taking form in her hand, its edge sharper than glass. It looked as insubstantial as the chains. You can break these. You must.
With an indrawn breath, she swung it high and sliced down through the layers of chains. They resisted her sword, but she made it sharper, stronger, pushing against their poisoned bondage. It sliced through a layer of chains. They shattered and fell away, dissolving to nothing.
She could see him more clearly now, no more a shadow but a man. The chains ensnared arms, legs, torso. They wrapped around his neck and dragged at his wings.
The entire bridge screeched. Cracks broke through the masonry, leaving black gaps. Mae choked down a screech as her feet nearly lost their grip on the “floor” beneath them.
***
Gwynne dove behind a pillar before the Mara could turn her eyes on him. Not getting’ me, you aren’t. He’d seen what happened when she fed blood to the fang faces, and it wasn’t happening to him! This was bad. This was so bad.
Gwynne cautiously ducked down and peered around the pillar. Her expression glazed, Charlie walked steadily toward the sealed Gate. The Mara, confident in her work, turned her back on Charlie to plant her clawed hands on either side of Rhys’ face. So much for him. At least she wasn’t considering Gwynne as a threat, and he wanted to stay that way.
Keystone! Gwynne recognized the magical texture of another Keystone shard. He dashed to another shadowed arch and surveyed the room, trying to pinpoint that bright flash of power.
Behind the sealed Gate.
How had it gotten there?! No way was Gwynne trying to go after it.
>
Then Charlie reached out and touched the Seal.
***
Charlie’s feet paced steadily toward the Gate. She dimly heard something happening behind her, but it was none of her concern. Nausea coiled in her stomach, but she couldn’t imagine why.
Charlie reached out to touch a pulsing red ribbon.
“Charlotte!” The deep, male voice was like a dousing of cold water, bringing Charlie out of her haze.
It felt like she had her hand pressed to a sheet of red glass. Glass with a wide crack through the center, radiating tiny spider webs that flaked off tiny shards. A fresh crack sliced under her hand.
Behind the glass, she saw a green eye in a shadowed face. A bright green eye glazed with pain. Maelyn’s eyes. Gwynne’s eyes.
“Charlotte Marie Donahue.” The man behind the glass invoked her full name, chasing out the last wisps of the Mara’s mind magic. “Don’t break the Seal. Not yet. But when the time comes, it needs to be you.” He flinched as another crack radiated outward.
“You sent Lallia?” The words came out as a whisper. Him. The one behind the blood Seal. High King Gwalchmai. Alive.
He flashed a familiar grin with a crooked tooth. So that was where Gwynne got it from. He was one of Gwalchmai’s descendants too. “That’s right, Miss Hero. You’re a Gate Breaker. One in a lifetime. You distort the magic that touches you.”
Gate Breaker? She was touching the Seal.
***
A shudder ran through the entire room. Gwynne felt it from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. The Bridge itself made an audible groan that hit him in the gut.
The Mara whipped around, startled. Her eyes swept the room and Gwynne ducked back behind a pillar. Did she see him?
“Come out, come out, little mouse,” the Mara sang. “I know you’re hiding in a hole.”
Gwynne looked desperately for a new hiding place, but all he saw was more pillars. He couldn’t see a way back to the rest of the bridge either.
But he did see Jack’s hand twitch. Bugger. He was alive after all. Alive again? Whatever.
Cracks webbed across the Seal with a series of crackles and pops.
Running out of time. Gwynne knew enough to realize that all kinds of nasty would be set loose if the Seal on the Gate broke. He couldn’t let it happen.
“Why do I have to play hero?” Gwynne muttered. Because he was the only one who could. Gwynne took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “I’m gonna regret this.”
Belting out a war cry at the top of his lungs, Gwynne dove from the shadows to sprint at Charlie. He slammed into her side, intending to knock her away from the Seal, but her hand stuck. All he did was smash his nose against her shoulder.
“I’m in trouble!” Gwynne grabbed Charlie’s arm and yanked. “Come on, ye blasted squirrel. Move!” He braced his foot against the seal and heaved.
With an earsplitting boom that Gwynne felt all the way through his gut to his spine, the Seal split in half.
***
“Listen!” Gwalchmai said. “You must –”
A deep crack tore through the Seal. Gwalchmai broke off with a gut-wrenching scream.
Charlie felt something reach though the crack and touch her. It instantly sucked the warmth from her with the cold of the grave, diving to her bones and deeper. It clutched at her mind with skeletal fingers, sucking the air out of her lungs and reaching for her heart.
Arms around her shoulders ripped her away from the Gate. It felt like her hand left a layer of skin behind. Contact with the Seal broken, she tumbled back into her rescuer. He fell with a squeal.
“Gwynne?” Charlie said incredulously.
“Move!” he shrieked.
Charlie had no time to process it. The floor buckled under her with a deep moan. She rolled aside as the stone floor crumbled away, leaving nothing but a black hole.
Charlie scrambled away from the hole, clutching Gwynne’s arm.
The Mara screeched.
***
“What is happening?” Mae demanded. Everything was falling apart. Very literally.
The Guardian groaned as if in pain. “The Seal is breaking.”
Breaking? How could it be breaking?
“Mae, leave me,” he said. “Free Rhys.”
Free the vampire? Mae looked up. The Mara had turned her back on him, now flitting between the arched pillars. He’d been trapped in the same kind of mind bonds.
“The Seal cannot be broken yet,” the Guardian said. “Free him!”
Mae steeled her trembling spine. “Why did you trade yourself for me?”
The shape of his helm hid most of the Guardian’s face, his eyes hidden in shadow, but she could see his mouth, strong and firm and masculine. A white scar marked one corner of his lips. She could see his smile. He reached out to her through the clinging wraps of mind magic. Mae took his hand, blindly trusting.
He caught her up, crushing her to him. His mouth descended on hers like a swooping hawk, hungrily devouring her with a kiss that branded her to her soul. She could either drown in it, or return it. Return it she did, opening to him and seeking to sear him as deeply. He moaned her name against her lips and the sound struck her to the core. She wrapped her arms around his neck, molding herself to his armor. One of his hands laced through her hair, pressing the kiss even deeper, the other hand encircling her waist. She never paused to think of consequences.
“God forgive me,” he muttered, then shoved her away. Mae felt her feet leave the floor, and suddenly the floor became ceiling.
***
You distort the magic that touches you. “Gwynne,” Charlie snapped. “Is the Mara magical?”
“What? She’s nearly made of magic. Of course she’s magical!”
Touch her. All she had to do was touch her. Right?
With a defiant yell, Charlie flung herself on the Mara, grabbing at anything she could grip. The Mara shrieked and writhed, but Charlie clung like a leech. The Mara’s face changed, turning twisted and ugly, her eyes black and her mouth full of jagged, crooked teeth. She snapped at Charlie’s face.
Charlie flinched with a gasp, but didn’t let go. The Mara spat curses, raking her nails across Charlie’s arms and drawing blood. Charlie tightened her grip.
You distort the magic that touches you. You distort the magic that touches you. It had to be having an effect. Otherwise the Mara would have turned to green mist by now. It had to be working!
Or was it? Was the Mara faking? Or using mind magic? Charlie searched for that telltale sensation that meant she was being manipulated. Nothing.
The Mara stopped struggling, her face settling into thin, sharp features, her hair short and black. Her head twisted around on her neck to face Charlie. Her eyes flashed yellow. “Magic bane,” she whispered, layered with several different voices.
The floor beneath them shrieked and rippled like a waterbed instead of stone. A huge tear ripped open under Charlie’s feet. Her stomach jumped into her throat as she fell. She let go of the Mara, flailing for the edge of the floor. The Mara instantly dissolved into mist.
A cold, long-fingered hand clamped around her wrist, jerking her to a halt, dangling inside the rip, under the floor. She flung her head back. Rhys!
Cold vines of shadow snaked around her ankles, pulling her downward toward the empty darkness.
Don’t let go, Charlie silently begged. She reached up to grab his wrist with her other hand. Her weight stretched her arm to its limit, tears squeezing into her eyes as pain hummed through her tendons. The gaping nothing below her crept up to wrap around her legs, pulling slowly and inexorably. Charlie’s breath came in shallow gasps. It felt like the air was so thin there couldn’t possibly be any oxygen in it.
Rhys braced his other hand on the edge of the tear and pulled. The sharp edge of the floor sliced across his palm. The darkness refused to release her.
More stones crumbled as the floor bucked. The rip tore further, jarring Rhys’ supporting hand free. His upper body now hung
over the emptiness, and Charlie could feel it stretching black fingers upward along her body toward him. No. No, it couldn’t pull him in with her.
“Let go!” she gasped in panic.
Instead, Rhys grimly reached down to grasp her wrist with both hands.
Gwynne’s head appeared over the edge of the rip. He reached down to grab Rhys’ upper arm and pulled, but he had as much success as Rhys.
Charlie closed her eyes and forced her fingers to unclench. Her arm slowly began to slide free of Rhys’ slick grip.
“Charlie!” Rhys shouted, naked panic in his voice. “Reach up your other hand!”
Charlie mutely shook her head. The darkness had her firmly by the waist now and vines of it climbed up her arm. “Let me go before it reaches you!”
“Never,” he said and pulled against the darkness.
The ground beneath him crumbled.
The darkness swallowed them up as they fell into an endless chasm. No sight, no sensation other than wind ripping past and Rhys’ grip on her wrist. No sound but a hollow, roaring echo. Then Rhys’ hand tore away, leaving nothing at all.
***
The roaring emptiness spat Charlie out into bright, cold sunlight. She tumbled onto hard, frozen ground, biting into her hands and knees.
As she struggled to get her bearings, another solid body collided with hers, knocking her back down. A chorus of moans and groans signaled that more than one body had fallen out of the thin air to join her in the heap.
Of all the - Charlie wrestled free and whirled on them. “You stupid, stupid… stupid!” She couldn’t come up with any better word. The entire party had followed her. Rhys, Gwynne, Jack, even Maelyn.
She barely registered Rhys’ stricken face before he grabbed her and pulled her into a crushing hug, squeezing any further words out of her lungs. She clung back, suddenly so grateful that he’d been so stupid. Whatever else happened now, she wasn’t alone.
They were all in this together.
Then she looked over Rhys’ shoulder and let out a gasp.
They’d landed on a windswept plateau on the side of a mountain. Across the valley before them, another rocky peak rose, capped with ice crystals in brilliant colors that captured the light of the setting sun and blazoned it across the sky in rippling rainbows. In short, it looked nothing like Seinne Sonne.
Keystone (Gatewalkers) Page 26