by Amy Hopkins
Julianne reached out to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been very clear, Francis, but it’s a very long story. We’ll fill you both in later, I promise.”
Francis nodded, then gestured to Lord George. “Mary will have lunch on by now, if you’d like to join me?”
Polly watched them go but didn’t move. She sat still and quiet, as if hoping no one would notice she was still in the room.
“Polly, I’ll need you to stay alert. If Marcus gives you a signal, you’ll need to detach Danil’s bracelet.”
“What?” Danil yelped. “It hurt like a kick to the balls to get on, now you want her to take it off me?”
“Only if something goes wrong,” Julianne reassured him.
Polly nodded. “What’s the signal?”
“I’ll swear like a sailor and jump on Jules like a rodeo rider,” Marcus said. “Will that be clear enough for you?”
Polly laughed nervously. “Sure. But… let’s not let things go wrong?”
“We’ll do our best.” Julianne leaned over the table, reaching a hand out to the two other mystics.
Danil took one and Bastian grasped the other. When their own hands were linked, Julianne let her eyes mist over.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, then muttered something under her breath.
CHAPTER TEN
Julianne extended her magic out to Danil and Bastian, but instead of reaching out to them directly, she channeled her power through the amphorald.
Even recognizing when her power was funneled through the device had taken training and practice. Artemis had teased her, insulted her proficiency until Julianne could deliberately focus on the device embedded into her skin.
Meanwhile, the entire Temple had buzzed with news of a new shield. Artemis’s mind link had never been seen, and almost every mystic present tried to expand on the technique by combining it with other spells.
The only one that seemed to be effective was mind communication, and even that had only given a minor improvement.
Now, however, Julianne had three Mystics with amphorald devices and a target worthy of their attention. If she could push far enough, hard enough, she just might catch the attention of Ezekiel or Hannah, his student. Both had the capacity for immense power.
It was this power Julianne sought as she linked with Bastian and Danil. Using their presence as an anchor, she pushed out with her magic, stretching it across Irth and into the far reaches of places she had never been before.
Julianne reached until her mind wavered. She fought past the tightening of her temples, questing out farther than she’d ever reached.
Time stood still. The sounds around her—the gentle rustle of paper in a breeze, a chirping bird outside—melded into a high-pitched hum. The feel of cloth on her skin became a restrictive coating across every inch of her skin.
Julianne pushed harder, seeking a glimpse of the immense power Ezekiel held.
Far beyond the boundaries of Irth as she knew it, something latent hummed. It was a source of power, but not human. Still, Julianne pulled, forcing her mind to thin and reach farther.
Her energy drained and hope sank.
Ezekiel. The name tore from her mind unbidden.
Jules? Jules!
Not Ezekiel. A girl.
Zeke’s kinda busy. What’s up? Hannah’s mental voice was bright and soothing, giving Julianne the strength to hold on just a little longer.
Monsters. A portal. A hole in the sky. Images, memories of thoughts taken from others and of the dead beast behind her leaked through the bond with agonizing slowness.
Part of Julianne was aware that her thoughts were beginning to scatter and fracture. Foreboding cloaked her, but she didn’t let go. This would be their only chance to find out what these things were—Julianne would not be able to expend this much effort again.
You mean the Skrima? Hannah sent a flash of imagery. Damn, these bastards are popping up everywhere.
How… stop… Blackness began to crowd out Julianne’s thoughts like a noose. She had to hold on… just a little longer.
A hand touched her shoulder, but she shook her head, trying not to divert her attention to Marcus’s warning.
Julianne, hold on. Hannah’s presence flared brighter, reaching towards Julianne. You’ve gotta shut down the portal. Those little critters? They’re nothing compared to what else is out there.
A demon rose before Julianne, humanoid in form with great tusks protruding from its scalp. She cowered, arms over her head as it rose above and sliced down with a red, glowing blade.
Buzzing in Julianne’s ears formed words in a voice she didn’t recognize.
We call it the rift. It is through that hole that she has been sending her creatures. Their attacks serve many purposes, but I believe she has been testing us for weaknesses. Preparing for a larger invasion. I think she wants to take this planet for her own.
Jules? Jules, I’m losing yo—
Hannah’s voice faded, and Julianne slipped into the abyss.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Julianne’s head ached. The room was dark—no, her eyes were closed. She cracked one open and promptly shut it again when light stabbed her brain, making it scream.
“She’s moving,” Marcus said above her. “Can’t either of you do something?”
“Not if she’s burnt herself out.” Danil sounded worried, and Julianne tried to form the words to reassure him that she was ok.
“Nrgghh.” That wasn’t what she’d intended to say…
“Gods, will she be able to speak again?” Francis must have come in. If Julianne hadn’t been in so much pain, she’d have rolled her eyes.
I’m fine, dammit. Oh. They can’t hear me. I need to say it out loud.
Julianne stretched her eyebrows up in an effort to lift her eyelids. It worked, and this time she steeled herself against the light, angling her glance away from the window above her with an effort.
The window above her? She felt around with her hands and realized she was on the floor. Squinting, she grimaced at Marcus.
“Jules?” He leaned down, obscuring the glare.
“Wa—water?” She worked her mouth, trying to bring some moisture back into it and banish the hoarseness in her voice.
“You’re lucky I don’t tip a pig’s trough over your damn head.” Danil leaned over, coming into view as he spoke. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Of all the slug-brained, idiotic, goat livered things you could—”
“Should I assume that the danger is over?” Marcus asked dryly. “Because a minute ago you were promising you’d never curse her out again.”
“Not my fault the leader of the entire mystic community has a steaming pile of cowshit for brains.” Danil disappeared, his stomping feet sending prickles of pain through Julianne’s head.
“Wa—” Bastian appeared and lifted a cup to her lips before she could finish her demand.
Julianne swallowed thirstily, then rolled her tongue around her mouth. “We’re in danger,” she said in a low voice.
“Will this danger strike within the next few minutes, child, or can we take a moment to reassure ourselves of your safety first?” Lord George took her hand, and Julianne nodded.
She lifted herself up on one elbow, and he quickly helped her up as Marcus diligently assisted. Once she was back in her chair, she looked around the gathered faces, wondering how to explain what she’d learned.
What she needed to say was terrifying. Lord George and Francis had led their people admirably, but how would they defend against demons? Bastian and Danil would be able to see what was coming, once she’d recovered a little—but would it help them cope?
Her eyes turned to Marcus. She had no doubt he would stand and fight whatever came their way, but even his sword had its limits.
“The portals,” Julianne said after a moment. “They’re from another world.”
Francis sat down, hard. “From another world?” he asked, voice unsteady.
“Yes.” Julianne
leaned back to accept the cold washcloth Polly draped over her forehead. It wouldn’t do much to help with the thumping headache, but at least it felt nice.
“And you thought I was an idiot for trying to mind-link with a vark, who, as it turns out, is an alien,” Bastian muttered. “Look, Master. I’m expected to do stupid stuff like risk my life in an experiment. You’re supposed to be smarter than that… no offense.”
Irritation prickled at Julianne, probably because he was right. She’d done something dangerous, and probably stupid, but it had paid off with a warning they’d be stupid to ignore.
“I’d add my support to Bastian’s comments, but I’m sure you know where I stand.” Danil’s face was dark and angry. “Dammit, Jules! Why didn’t you pull back? We could feel you breaking apart!”
Julianne shrugged. “I was too close to give up. But… there’s more.” She’d only touched on what Hannah had shared with her. A shudder crept over her skin.
“More?” Lord George asked. “More than aliens from another world, appearing through portals? I’m beginning to think that your actions will change our world.”
“Can this wait?” Marcus asked. “Francis, do you have somewhere Jules can lie down?”
“Shh.” Julianne waved down Francis’s answer. “There’s more. More than little varks and overgrown insects.”
“What do you mean?” Danil leaned closer, curiosity finally getting the better of him.
“I mean…” Julianne took a breath, wishing she had the energy to just show them instead of relying on words to convey the impossible. Casting an image spell now was about as possible as flying up to touch the clouds.
“Go on, my dear,” George said softly.
“Hannah showed me what else is out there. Demons. Huge, angry demons that lay waste to cities. And a presence, something so evil I couldn’t begin to understand what it was.” Julianne swallowed to hold back the urge to scream. “We have to close that portal. We have to do it now. Before…”
“Before a demon comes through,” Danil whispered. “Bitch’s oath, Jules. Couldn’t you have just found a nice little planet with friendly paper-munchers?”
Julianne summoned a wavering smile, and Danil grinned back.
“Well, then, let’s close this damn thing.” Bastian stood, hands on hips. “I don’t suppose Hannah showed you how?”
Julianne carefully shook her head. “She just said we have to close the portals. No matter what.”
He nodded, opened his mouth, then stopped. A moment later his eyes grew wide. “You said portals? Plural. More than one?”
Julianne blinked slowly, gathering the fractured memories of her desperate conversation with Hannah. “She said… they’re popping up everywhere.”
Marcus rested his hand on her arm. “That means she’s encountered more than one herself,” he said, looking around. “And knowing Hannah, that means she’s shut down more than one. Probably by herself.”
“If she can do it, so can we.” Julianne sat a little straighter, feeling hope penetrate the fog in her mind. “There must be a way, or she wouldn’t have suggested it.”
“Well, then,” Lord George said, some of the color returning to his face. “I suggest we go about finding a way to do so. In the meantime, let’s not scare the people more than needed, eh?”
Francis nodded. “This must stay between us, at least for now.”
Bastian glanced out the window. “I agree.”
Julianne nodded her consent. Together, they would face what was to come, and they would beat it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning, Marcus left Julianne with strict instructions to rest as much as she could. She’d fought him, of course—but a meeting scheduled with Lord George should at least keep her out of trouble.
With a smile of his own, Marcus eased the door shut to Danil’s house and strolled off down the street.
Despite the news Julianne had delivered, nothing in the town had changed. Why would it? Marcus wondered. Just because I know there are whole other worlds out there—worlds with monsters and Skrima and demons—Tahn has no reason to change.
The thought reassured him, that no matter what they faced, there would always be places worth protecting.
He met Garrett at the gate just as Bette was returning from an overnight shift at the portal. The two had been informed of Julianne’s conversation with Hannah, but seemed to have taken it in stride.
“Good mornin’, ye big lug,” Bette called with a wave. “Don’t let me lieutenant here get ye into any trouble up at the crack!”
“The crack?” Marcus asked with a sideways glance at Garrett.
“Aye,” Garrett said mournfully. “She won’t let me call it the vagina, so now it’s the crack—shits out monsters like a rabbit in a field full of laxative carrots.”
“Yer a dirty minded wee shit, aren’t ye,” Bette teased. “It’s a crack in the air, no cheeks to be seen. Or hair, so we know it’s not Garrett’s crack at least.”
Marcus shuddered. “Please, no visuals. I’d like to eat again one day.”
“Oh, but can’t ye just picture runnin’ yer fingers through the silky soft locks?” Garrett asked innocently. “I’ve almost got the ones up close to me nuts long enough to braid.”
Marcus made a gagging sound and Bette erupted into laughter. “I wish I could tell ye he’s lyin’, but he’s not!”
“Bitch’s tits, stop!” Marcus pleaded. “If you say another word, you’ll have to explain to Julianne why I suddenly can’t—”
“Get yer dick up?” Garrett hooted. “There’s a herb for that!”
“I was going to say keep my food down,” Marcus shot back. He rolled his eyes and waved at Bette. “See you when we get back!”
“Not if he shows ye his hairy ass—ye’ll spend the rest of yer life blind as Danil is!” Bette walked off laughing so hard she was nearly doubled over.
“Come on, ye prick. Stop lustin’ over me beautiful ass.” Garrett hoisted his axe over one shoulder and strode off down the road.
Wiping tears away, Marcus jogged to catch up. “I needed that laugh today,” he admitted. “Bitch’s oath, anything to take my mind off what’s on the other side of that… giant vagina?”
Garrett snorted. “Ye’ve never seen a thing like it, but that don’t mean we can’t blow the fucker up. I’m a rearick, remember. I’ve spent me whole life blowin’ shit up.” He rubbed his chin. “Not all of it on purpose, mind ye.”
Buoyed by the rearick’s confidence, Marcus felt the tightness in his chest ease. “So, how are things back here since we left? Apart from the giant vagina-crack, the remnant incursion and those new soldiers George found.”
“Ye mean the ones that are uglier than the wrong end of a dog?” Garrett asked, scowling. “Aye, fuckin’ peachy.”
“Woah, what did I step in?” Marcus asked, startled by Garrett’s sudden change in demeanor.
“Those hired swords aren’t worth the shit they flush down the latrine after bad chowder.” Garrett spat on the road. “Bully boys that never finished on their mother’s teats, if ye ask me.”
“Bullies?” Marcus asked. “That doesn’t seem like something George would stand for.”
“He doesn’t know.” Garrett shook his head. “And we can’t prove a damn thing. Seen a hint here and heard a rumor there, nothin’ clear enough ta take ta the old man.”
“Still,” Marcus said, “Shouldn’t someone say something?”
Garrett sucked air between his teeth. “Most likely. We were goin’ to mention it to George this visit. If it comes to a head here, we‘ve got the mystic to crawl in their heads and see who’s a dick and who’s a rotten dick.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Marcus said. “Julianne has already offered some suggestions.”
“Anything would be an improvement,” Garrett agreed. “As long as Bette don’t kill one of ‘em before we get the chance ta see yer lass’s plans through.”
“Ah.” Marcus grimaced. “I see.”
The walk to the portal was brisk, and Marcus had sweat running down his back by the time they got there. He rested one hand against the watchtower, letting the breeze cool his face.
“What, a few months on a mountain made ye soft?” Garrett scoffed.
Marcus straightened. “Soft? No. It’s just a warm day.”
“Aye, I find meself pinin’ for the cold winds and black toes of the Heights on days like this one,” Garrett said.
Marcus hesitated. “Black toes? Not exactly what I was missing, you strange little man.”
“I’m no’ little!” Garrett snapped, then stomped away.
“Where’s this big vagina?” Marcus called after him.
Garrett flung an arm up, gesturing Marcus to follow him. Groaning as he left the cool shade, he did so.
Garrett pushed through some foliage, and Marcus trailed behind. When he got to the clearing just a few feet into the heavy undergrowth, he froze. “What the fuck?”
He blinked, but the razor-sharp slice taken out of the sky still hung there.
Garrett laughed. “Aye. That’s what we all said the first time we saw it. Except Mack. I swear on the Bitch’s own boots he said, ‘want to fuck’, not ‘what the fuck’. Mack always did have strange taste in the lasses, though.”
“Fuck you, tiny man.” Mack waved cheerily at Marcus and headed over. “Watch the hole, Carey!” he called over his shoulder.
“Watch your own hole,” Carey yelled back, but readied his spear and stood straighter anyway.
“Bitch’s oath, Garrett,” Marcus said, still staring at the rift. “If you think that’s a vagina, I’d hate to see what you’ve been fucking in your spare time.”
Mack let out a whoop of laughter as Garrett grumbled under his breath.
“How does anything fit through there?” Marcus asked. He walked closer, tipping his head to view the rift from different angles. No matter how he looked at it, the opening was paper-thin, and vanished as he tried to view it from the side.