Gatefather

by Orson Scott Card

  “I know he’s alive, but he’s also Mother’s friend, and I don’t think he’d do that to me.”

  “He did it to Danny.”

  “Before he even knew who Danny was,” said Enopp.

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” said Diamond. “I didn’t think you’d believe me when I said I didn’t want any magery, but I really don’t. Besides, what if I turned out to have some really dangerous power. Or an annoying one. Who wants the ability to summon mosquitoes? Or make somebody’s hair fall out?”

  Enopp laughed. “There’s no magery for that.”

  “That you’ve heard of,” said Diamond. “I’m probably the first.”

  “If you’re not interested in magery,” said Eluik, “I wonder why you’re taking us in?”

  “Stone told me he had a couple of kids from another country who had already suffered a lot and still needed to be kept out of sight. We don’t have a lot of security at the farm, but we have plenty of obscurity, and Stone was pretty sure that would be enough.”

  “One of the Great Families already has a spy watching to see where we go,” said Eluik. “And don’t bother with evasive maneuvers. She doesn’t use cars.”

  Diamond chuckled. “Stone said that Hermia would probably find you no matter what we did. His wife apparently has a low opinion of her. But they both agreed that she probably wouldn’t cause you any harm.”

  “Probably not,” said Eluik.

  “How do you know Stone?” asked Enopp. “We don’t know him all that well, we mostly just know the Silvermans. And Danny.”

  “I’ve never met any of them,” said Diamond. “Unless you count the phone calls setting up your flight. I know Stone because I met him when I was stationed at the Pentagon. One of the times I was stationed there.”

  “So you were an important guy in the Air Force?” asked Enopp.

  “I was a colonel when I retired,” said Diamond. “‘Important’ starts with a general’s stars.”

  “You were important,” said Eluik. “Stone said that you know everybody.”

  “I know everybody that I know,” said Diamond. “Still a few billion short of ‘everybody.’ I collect friends, and help them share information and ideas with each other. A few generals in that group, a couple of civilian leaders, some scientists. And now a couple of mages. Pretty eclectic group.”

  “So you’ll be sharing information about us?” asked Eluik.

  “Not about you in particular. But mages in general? ‘Westilians’ or whatever you call yourselves? That’s a pretty hot topic. What to make of these planes and tanks that run without friction and gather their own fuel from the air. How to maintain security when every hawk or eagle or crow might be a spy. Whether there’s any chance of drowthers like us remaining in control of our own government and military. Little things like that.”

  “So you’ll study us,” said Eluik.

  “I may ask you questions, if it seems pertinent, but no, I’m not studying you. I’m sheltering you. You can ask me questions, too. I don’t want to make you my subjects of study, I hope to make you my friends.”

  “Because it would be useful to have friends among the mages,” said Eluik.

  Diamond laughed. “I guess you’ll just have to get to know me and reach your own conclusion about my motives. But yes, it’s useful to have friends. It also makes me happy. And I’m happier when I have friends drawn from many different groups and classes and nations and ethnic groups. You’re definitely not from any ethnic group I already knew. And nobody could look at you and decide what race you are.”

  “Human race,” said Enopp. “Pretty much.”

  “Close, anyway,” said Eluik.

  Diamond chuckled. “Oh, you’re fully human, all right.”

  “And you have as much of the blood of the Mithermages as anyone else on Mittlegard,” said Eluik. “So don’t rule out the possibility that you have an affinity for some branch of magery.”

  “My first rule of intellectual inquiry: Don’t rule anything out till you have no choice.”

  “Good rule,” said Enopp. “But in this case, the only way to rule it out is to go through a Great Gate and see what happens.”

  “Shouldn’t my affinity, if I have one, show itself before I actually go through the gate?” asked Diamond.

  “If you had been trained from childhood, then probably, unless you’re a gatemage,” said Eluik. “That doesn’t show up.”

  “Stone told me that gatemages were always killed,” said Diamond. “If everybody needs gates, that seems counterproductive.”

  “It wasn’t always that way. Gatemages are rare, but their gates can last for centuries,” said Enopp. “So every Family on Westil and here on Mittlegard had access to lots of gates, whether they had a gatemage or not. But then Loki stole all the gates. Suddenly nobody had gates. So whoever got a gatemage first would have a huge advantage.”

  “Still doesn’t explain why any Family would kill their own gatemage.”

  “The only Family that everybody monitored was the Norths,” said Eluik, “because Loki was theirs. The others probably all cheated when they thought they could get away with it. But any gatemages who tried a Great Gate ran into the Gate Thief and lost all their gates, and that was the end.”

  “Till Danny North,” said Diamond.

  “He got away from his Family in time—with some help, I understand,” said Enopp.

  “And he was stronger than the Gate Thief,” said Eluik. “He stole the Gate Thief’s gates.”

  “You sound happy about that,” said Diamond.

  “The Gate Thief was the one who kept us imprisoned,” said Enopp. “He’s sorry now. And he’s also the one who saved our lives when the Queen tried to have us killed.”

  “Sort of like Stalin,” said Diamond. “Started out as a very bad enemy, until an even worse enemy attacked him, and then he was our ally.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Enopp dismissively. “What’s the point of our learning Mittlegard history? We’re not going to stay here forever.”

  “When will it be safe for you to go back?” asked Diamond.

  “I don’t know,” said Enopp. “But Mother is free now, and so it’s only a matter of time.”

  Eluik shook his head. “She may never be able to bring us back,” he said. “She’s in the other body. She has to pretend to be her.”

  “She’s still our mother,” said Enopp.

  “In our enemy’s body,” said Eluik.

  “Your mother has changed bodies?” asked Diamond.

  Eluik realized at once that he had said too much. Why? He and Enopp were very good at keeping secrets. Their lives had always depended on it.

  There was something about Diamond that made Eluik let down his guard. To trust him.

  And then it became clear. “I know what your affinity is,” said Eluik.

  “Really? What?”

  “You’re a manmage, if you’re any kind of mage at all. And I think you are. A strong one.”

  “Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” said Diamond.

  “Enopp and I never tell secrets,” said Eluik. “We’re never lulled into talking freely. Until now, with you.”

  “Well, I’m glad you trusted me. Your secret is safe. I’ll never tell.”

  “Our secret is only safe if nobody else knows it,” said Eluik, “and we never tell. Only we told you.”

  “And that makes me a manmage? Isn’t that the other kind of mage that the Families all killed?”

  “And they weren’t joking about it, either,” said Enopp. “The manmages of Dapnu Dap ruled all of Westil for a while. They were impossible to fight.”

  “But you fought them and won,” said Diamond.

  “Not us,” said Eluik. “It was five thousand years ago. And we only defeated them because some of the most powerful manmages changed sides and worked with us. Afterwards, when all the other manmages were dead, the ones who helped us killed themselves. The law was: No manmage could ever be allowed to live.�
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  “So calling me a manmage wasn’t nice,” said Diamond.

  “Mother is a manmage,” said Enopp. “We think killing manmages is a bad idea. Because some manmages are good.”

  “What Stone told me,” said Diamond, “is that manmages ride other people the way a … blood brother? No, Clawbrother, the way they ride inside animals.”

  “Or a Bloodfather,” said Enopp. “And yes, the most powerful ones can. But Mother never did that.”

  “Yes, she did,” said Eluik. “But you have to remember how riding a heartbeast works. A Clawbrother can’t get inside a hawk or a bear and make it act like something other than a hawk or a bear. The creature is still itself. The Clawbrother can guide it, but it can’t change its nature.”

  “So people are still themselves,” said Diamond, “even if a manmage is riding them?”

  “Yes,” said Enopp.

  “No,” said Eluik. “It depends on what you mean by being yourself.”

  “As if you know,” said Enopp.

  “Mother told me years ago, when she first told me what she was,” said Eluik. “You only become a manmage the way you become any other kind of mage. By truly loving and serving your affinity. Sandmages serve the dry sand, Tempesters feed the storm, Trunkfathers love trees.”

  “So manmages love people,” said Diamond.

  “Like you,” said Eluik. “You collect people. A huge network of intellectuals and decision-makers all around the world. You don’t rule them, you don’t try to organize them, you just know when one of them needs to meet with one of the others to exchange ideas. Did I remember that right? Did the Silvermans get it straight?”

  “I never thought of it that way, but yes, I’m pretty good at networking.”

  Eluik laughed. “That’s a nice way of putting it. So you love those people, right? You care about them. You try to get them what they need.”

  “When they have to solve a problem, I rarely know the answer, but I usually know someone who might know what to do.”

  “Manmage,” said Eluik.

  “Why didn’t we see that right away?” asked Enopp.

  “Why didn’t Stone see it? Or Leslie, or Marion?” asked Eluik.

  “Because it’s not magery,” said Diamond. “It’s just … being a good friend.”

  “The way a Rootherd is a friend to corn, or a Stonefather to a mountain,” said Eluik. “Mother said that she sees what a person really loves and cares about, and then she can talk to them and help them realize how the thing she wants them to do is exactly what they already wanted to do.”

  “Ah,” said Diamond. “But I don’t do that. My friends decide for themselves what they want.”

  “You haven’t been through a Great Gate,” said Eluik. “And do they really? Don’t you sometimes persuade them to accept ideas that they didn’t like at first?”

  “Everybody does that,” said Diamond.

  “But manmages always succeed,” said Eluik.

  Diamond laughed sharply. “If I let you keep talking to me, you’ll persuade me that I know how to ride a hawk and fly.”

  “Not a Bloodfather, not a Clawfriend, not even a Furboy,” said Eluik. “Manmagery isn’t like beastmagery. You can’t use words with a hawk or a lion or a horse. The beast has to trust you and let you in, because of how you treat them, how you feel about them.”

  “Well, as you said, there aren’t any Great Gates anymore, so we’ll never know about me,” said Diamond.

  “I’m a gatemage,” said Enopp.

  “You might become a gatemage,” said Eluik. “You might even become a Gatefather like Wad or Danny. But it won’t matter because if you try to make a Great Gate, the Gate Thief will stop you.”

  “He doesn’t do that anymore,” said Enopp.

  “What makes you think that?” asked Eluik. “He didn’t block Danny because Danny was stronger. But he ate the Wild Gate that Hermia had moved, didn’t he? He has all of Danny’s gates and he didn’t give them back.”

  Enopp fell into a thoughtful silence.

  “I’m probably wrong,” said Eluik to Diamond. “You’re probably not any kind of mage at all. You’re just a really nice man who makes friends easily and holds on to all of them.”

  “That’s what I think I am,” said Diamond. “Or what I try to be, anyway. My kids will tell you I’m not always a really nice man.”

  “Your kids don’t always do what you want?” asked Enopp.

  “Are you kidding?” asked Diamond. “I tell them what’s the right thing to do, but they’re free to choose, and … then they do whatever they damn well please.”

  “So … not a very good manmage,” said Enopp.

  “No, an excellent manmage,” said Eluik. “Like Mother. She didn’t control us. She left us free.”

  “Because she loved us more than anybody,” said Enopp.

  “Hardest thing I’ve ever done,” said Diamond. “Letting my kids do some of the insane things they chose to do.”

  “Doesn’t mean you’re not a manmage,” said Eluik. “Just means you’re not the kind of manmage that needs killing.”

  There were fields on the left side of the car when they turned off to the right, plunging into trees and winding up a narrow lane through deep woods. “Almost home,” said Diamond.

  “I can see why somebody might think you’re a treemage,” said Enopp. “This is serious forest.”

  “I love trees,” said Diamond. “I know most of the grand old trees on my property by name.”

  “Name?” said Enopp. “Trees don’t have names.”

  “He just means the name of the kind of tree,” said Eluik.

  “No,” said Diamond. “I mean: Annie’s Sycamore. Elm by the Brook. The Reading Oak. Things that we’ve done with or on or under or near the tree. They all have a story and that becomes the tree’s name. We love these trees.”

  “Treemagery is a lot safer,” said Enopp. “Nobody kills a treemage.”

  “That settles it, then,” said Diamond.

  The car crested a rise and emerged at the top of a hill. The ground was meadow for a ways around the house on all sides, but as soon as the ground started downward again, the trees came back. In every direction, they could see miles and miles of tree-covered hills, but hardly any houses at all.

  “It almost looks Westilian,” said Enopp. “Like there aren’t any paved roads or big houses except this one.”

  “That’s why I love this place,” said Diamond. “Surrounded by life—beasts as well as trees—but the trees are the mothers and fathers of all. They shelter everybody, provide for everybody. Look down there, in that glen. Those are trees that have never been clear cut. There are some thousand-year trees there.”

  “For this world, that’s really old,” said Enopp.

  “The Indians used to walk among those trees. And really ancient creatures walked among the ancestors of those trees. This place was never a killing ground for trees. That means something to me.”

  “You were in the Air Force,” said Eluik. “The Air Force drops bombs and blows things up.”

  “Sometimes it’s a job that has to be done,” said Diamond. “But that doesn’t mean that a soldier doesn’t dream of finding a place that’s full of peace.”

  Eluik thought about that. Full of peace. Kind of a backward way of looking at it. Eluik would have thought that peace was the absence of war. But maybe war is the absence of peace. Maybe when you leave a place alone, for all the creatures to live their lives, the place fills up with peace, and the peace spills over. Like a lake with a stream running out of it, so that people downstream can drink up all the peace they want, and be filled with it.

  “You know, Westil might be full of magic,” said Eluik. “More than Mittlegard. But what neither world has very much of is this.”

  “Trees?” asked Diamond.

  “Plenty of trees in Westil,” said Enopp.

  “Peace,” said Eluik. “No peace in either world. Except maybe in little islands like this.”


  “Then it’s a good thing we’ve come here, isn’t it,” said Diamond. “Now come on inside, I know Annie will have all kinds of food for you. Regular food. Plain food. Bread and meat and cheese and fruits and vegetables. Nothing fancy but everything is good for you.”

  “In Westil,” said Enopp, “that’s all anybody knows how to make.”

  “Then you’ll feel right at home,” said Diamond. “Come on inside.”

  Eluik and Enopp got their bags—the ones that Diamond didn’t grab first—and followed him up the porch stairs into the house.

  Eluik took one glance back at the trees beyond the car and he thought maybe he caught a glimpse of somebody. No, not “somebody.” Hermia. Probably not his imagination. Probably she knew exactly where they were. Can’t be helped. But if anybody can damage the peace of this place, it’ll be her.

  Living with the Silvermans had prepared Eluik and Enopp for the American way of life. None of the customs of Iceway applied, and while there were differences between the Diamond kitchen and Leslie’s cooking back in Ohio, the ways of procuring the food—buying packages in stores, keeping everything in refrigerators and freezers, baking and frying and grilling and nuking things according to an arcane set of principles that Eluik couldn’t begin to guess at—were very similar. The colonel joked about cooking up the native fauna—about raccoon and squirrel stews, and how oily and nasty possum meat tasted (“but it would keep you alive in a pinch”)—but nothing like that was served.

  Eluik and Enopp had grown up on wild game, when there was meat at all, and Eluik missed it, though Enopp professed that when it came to eating, he never wanted to leave Mittlegard, or America, or even stray more than a hundred miles from the Ohio River. But that was a matter not at all under their control.

  Mother would call for them sometime. Probably not soon, because as Danny North explained, Anonoei had spent years setting up the destruction of Queen Bexoi, and now that she had to live inside Bexoi’s body and pretend to be her, she had to find a way to undo all her plotting—preferably without betraying people who had, after all, trusted her when she had her own body. It was a very tricky thing to do. Of course it would take time. Of course.