The Lighthouse between the Worlds

by Melanie Crowder

  Griffin plodded after Fi, the high brick walls sneering down at him with every step. Fi walked with her shoulders back and her chin high, completely at ease in the maze of hallways. She didn’t look much like a servant, except for her hair, which was red as the embers of a campfire, making her pale green veins seem to leap out of her skin. Griffin held his forearm up to the light. Was that creepy vine she’d dissolved into his skin going to turn his veins green too?

  When they passed one of the priests flanked by a pair of soldiers, Fi turned her face away, as if she had something more interesting to look at over there, on the brick wall. She didn’t duck her head or bow and scrape. And that funny-looking stick tucked through the sash at her waist seemed more like a weapon than anything a servant would need.

  Once they were alone in the next corridor over, she swung her gaze around, fixing Griffin with a probing glare. “Head down. Follow my lead.” She rounded the corner and strode directly toward a half dozen guards blocking the exit. When she reached them, Fi offered her metal stick with the barest twist of regret on her lips. She made for the door, and Griffin hurried after her, his movements stiff and his steps clumsy.

  “Hey, boy! Aren’t you forgetting something?” Griffin stopped mid-stride, terrified. He wrapped his arms around the bucket and dropped his chin to his chest. His hair was a little too dark to pass as Vinean, and his veins were ordinary blue shadows beneath his skin. They’d spot him as a fraud the second they got a better look.

  He never should have let Fi talk him away from the chapel door. He should have fought to stay close to his dad if it was all for nothing anyway—if they were going catch him no matter what.

  The soldiers closed in, blocking the exit, their arms crossed in front of their chests. Each of them was tall, with a lock of pale hair combed across his forehead at precisely the same angle. And the scariest part? Their eyes were flat, vacant circles.

  Before they could get too close, Fi scuttled around the soldiers and wrested the bucket and scrub brush out of Griffin’s hands. “Don’t mind him.” She set the tools on the shelf and grabbed Griffin’s elbow, yanking him out of their way. “This one’s burning up with a fever. I’ve got to get him home in case it’s catching.”

  The soldiers backed quickly away, arms rising to block their mouths and noses. “Well, hurry up! And don’t bring him back here if he doesn’t get better.”

  “No, no, absolutely not.” Fi bobbed her head and dragged Griffin toward the exit.

  As they passed under the arch, the fear fluttered out of Griffin, and he lifted a shaky hand to shade his eyes. It was all like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. He just wanted to be home, in front of the fire with his dad, drinking hot cocoa and watching the storms roll in off the ocean.

  Fi banged on Griffin’s shoulder to snap him out of it, and he gasped, his body remembering suddenly that he was supposed to be breathing. The air pulsed with heat, yellow and glaring. His sandals scraped on the bricks leading from the rectory to the servants’ quarters. Griffin glanced to the side. Fi’s face was hard, her whole body strung tight. How long had it been like this for her—soldiers around every corner, watching all the time, waiting to pounce? It was almost enough to make him forgive the bruise on his chest and the tender spot where she’d stepped on his throat. A person would need to be hard, living like this.

  Griffin had completely frozen back there. The soldiers had him, and then Fi had stepped in, like it was nothing, and whisked him to safety. He had wanted to believe that he could do this all on his own. But he couldn’t, that much was clear. Griffin didn’t exactly trust Fi, but he was pretty sure that her kind of tough was just what he needed.

  15

  AN INTRODUCTION

  As Fi veered off the main path to the servants’ quarters, she had to shake the feeling that the guards were still watching her. That they knew. That they were hanging back, out of sight, and waiting for her to lead them directly to her contacts in the resistance. She made three wrong turns, just in case, then checked over her shoulder one last time before she rounded the corner and strode toward what was, for now, home.

  “Almost there,” she whispered.

  Griffin’s feet dragged along the path, his shoulders hunched in defeat. “Where’s there?”

  But Fi only faced forward, scowling.

  “And when are we going back for my dad? I was right, wasn’t I? He’s in that room? Behind that locked door.”

  Fi grabbed the skin above his elbow and pinched, hard. “Not here.”

  Griffin wrenched his arm away. “Where are you taking me? And how can I even understand what you’re saying right now? Or the soldiers? We can’t be all from different worlds and speaking the same language. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Fi sighed. Apparently the ban on questions was up. “We think it has something to do with the portal—it doesn’t just move you from one world to the next. It changes you, prepares you for the world you’re about to enter.”

  Griffin dragged his hands down his face in frustration. “And when are you going to tell me who ‘we’ is?”

  Fi grimaced, starting up the walk of a small house with a tile roof. She pushed the front door open and turned back, tossing a look over her shoulder like a challenge. Here’s your answer, it said. She didn’t shove him through the doorway ahead of her, but she wasn’t going to let him run away, either. Griffin hesitated, and when he finally stepped inside, he looked like he was half expecting to walk into a trap.

  Eb and Liv immediately stopped what they were doing. Liv drew in a hissing breath as she leaped to her feet. She had big brown eyes and thick hair framing her face like a pair of yellow leaves. She was a small woman, wiry as a juniper branch. But that was where her strength lay, in the invisibility that comes with constantly being overlooked. Beside her, Eb had gone completely still. Scary still. He was a quiet man, and he’d been kind to Fi from the beginning. Eb was an ideal spy—no one would suspect how quickly those hands could turn into weapons.

  After all, he and Liv were fighters, and this was a war. They looked Griffin up and down—the baggy stola that clearly had been made for someone else, the face that, when you got a good look, wasn’t Vinean and wasn’t Somnite. And then they saw his shoes.

  Liv raised an eyebrow in Fi’s direction. Then it was back to the shoes again.

  “Yeah,” Fi said. “He’s from Earth, and I’m not sure how yet, but he’s connected to that lady you’re looking for.”

  “For the last time,” Griffin protested, “I’m not here with Dr. Hibbert. And Fergus and Sykes are chasing me. I’m not—”

  But he was cut off by a glare from Liv. Griffin glanced between Fi and the adults. The skin between his eyebrows pinched in confusion.

  Eb circled behind Griffin, moving between him and the door. “You searched him, at least?”

  Fi’s eyes darted to Griffin. He was skittish enough already. “No . . . I mean, come on, he’s not dangerous.”

  Liv strode quickly forward. “Don’t be so sure. Hands out to the side.”

  Griffin glanced behind him. He edged toward the window, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I didn’t do anything,” he protested. “You have no right to—”

  From behind, hands closed around Griffin’s biceps. He squirmed, but Eb’s grip was too strong.

  “Fi,” Griffin pleaded. “You said you would help me.”

  “Liv—come on. If you’d just listen for a sec—”

  But the older woman only brushed Fi aside and began patting Griffin down, starting at the wrists and moving toward his torso. When she reached his waist, Griffin groaned in frustration. Liv undid the strap and yanked the pouch out from under his stola. She handed the loose pages to Eb and began flipping through the thin book. Her skin reddened, splotches starting at her throat and traveling up her cheeks to the tips of her ears.

  “What is this?” she hissed. “Some sort of spy code?”

  Griffin glared back, his mouth drawn in a hard line. Fi groaned. The
kid could be stubborn. The last thing they needed was for him to decide they were the enemy too.

  Liv snapped the cover shut, shook the journal, and turned on Fi. “You think something like this isn’t dangerous? What if this had ended up in the priest’s hands? And you . . .” Liv squared her shoulders and closed in on Griffin.

  But she never finished her threat. Though his voice was softer, Eb’s words cut across everything else. “What could you possibly be doing with Katherine’s drawings?”

  Liv whirled around to face Eb. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Fi said drily. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

  Griffin took advantage of the surprise on Liv’s face and swiped the journal back. He stuck out his hand and Liv took the drawings from Eb, paging through them one by one before placing them in Griffin’s upturned palm. She held on to one in particular—a sketch of small glass pendants—and studied the script all around the edges before adding it to the rest.

  Griffin wrapped the pages reverently back around the journal and clutched the bundle to his chest. “Katherine was my mother.”

  Eb exchanged a long look with Liv. When he finally spoke, the tension in the room snapped, like a twig underfoot. “Fi,” he said. “Start talking.”

  She nodded. Took them long enough. She set her feet wide and clasped her hands behind her back like a soldier addressing her superiors. “I spotted Griffin leaving the temple last night with the other three from Earth. And then I was making my afternoon rounds in the rectory, minding my own business and waiting for my chance to slip into the bishop’s quarters, when I caught him hanging around the chapel door. I wasn’t sure at first that it was the same kid—but then I saw the shoes.”

  Griffin peeked over the edge of his stola at his grungy Tevas.

  “I knew he wasn’t one of us. He’s pale, though—he could almost pass for Somnite. Anyway, I guessed that whatever he was doing was going to end just as badly for us as it would for him, so I grabbed him before the priests got a good look at him.” She adjusted the sash at her waist, wishing for the hundredth time that she didn’t have to leave her paddle back in the rectory storeroom. “But then things got complicated.”

  “Because you learned who his parents are?” Liv prodded.

  “Yeah. I knew you’d want to talk to him.” She glanced at Griffin, her head shaking almost imperceptibly side to side. “And I think you’ll even want to help him.”

  Liv ran a hand through a lock of yellow hair, tugging at the ends before letting it go. And then, for the first time that afternoon, her expression softened. “You did well, Fi.”

  Eb offered Griffin a smile. “I bet you’re hungry.” He crossed to a rug beneath a scattering of cushions, tossed it to the side, and lifted a grate set into the floor. The whole thing levered up to reveal a gaping hole below, and Eb climbed down a ladder that descended into the darkness. Liv reached down after him, lifted out a bowl and pitcher, and set them on the floor before extending a hand to help Eb climb back out again. They replaced the rug, rearranged the cushions, and looked up expectantly at Griffin and Fi.

  “Join us?”

  Fi plopped down on an orange cushion embroidered with bell blossoms. She reached out a hand to Griffin and beckoned. When he didn’t budge, she said, “Look, I can’t promise you anything. I don’t know much about your mom or why she was so important to what we do. But I’ll tell you one thing. If you go back out there alone, you don’t stand a chance. If you stay here, and if you can convince these two to help you, you might just have a shot at getting your dad out.”

  Liv jumped to her feet. “Philip is here? How?”

  Without another word, Griffin crossed to the cushions. He sank into the soft pillows, overwhelmed. “Okay. So my mom traveled here, to Somni. I get that. Maybe you met her on one of her trips, or something. But it doesn’t make any sense—how could you know my dad?”

  “We’ll explain as much as we can,” Eb reassured him. “But we need to hear from you first. Start at the beginning.”

  Griffin dug his fists into his thighs. He didn’t have to trust them. He didn’t have to give them everything. Just enough that they would believe him, so they’d help him. “Two days ago, this really loud alarm went off. Dr. Hibbert and the Keepers showed up in a helicopter. They wanted Dad to do something for them. He refused, but then the alarm sounded a second time, and he said he had to help them.”

  “Two days.” Eb drew his palm along the stubble that shadowed his cheeks and chin. “So he would still be in the chapel, maybe down in one of their oubliettes.”

  Liv nodded. “We have a few days before they’ll move him to the temple. Griffin, I know this is hard to hear, but if the priests can’t make your dad talk, they’ll stick him in the temple, hooked up to a bunch of tubes, and they’ll steal his dreams until there isn’t any life left in him.”

  It had been scary enough to hear the Keepers talking about the priests and their mind control. But now that he had seen those people hanging there, lifeless—Griffin thought he might pass out.

  “So they’re not just going to kill him. They’re going to torture him first?” The stubborn was gone, wiped clean off Griffin’s face. He looked terrified, and Fi could understand why. Anyone who got in the way of something the priests wanted disappeared. Or worse. She knew that all too well. Fi bit down on her lip and turned away.

  “You eat,” Eb said, handing Griffin a plate loaded with an assortment of root vegetables, a dense, unleavened bread, and a half dozen dipping sauces. “We’ll talk.”

  Fi tucked her feet beneath her and grabbed a plate. She never passed up an opportunity to eat real food. The rations handed out at the ceremony were enough to keep a person alive. But they weren’t enough to keep her thinking quick on her feet or to build up any kind of muscle. Besides, there was nothing remotely satisfying about a liquid diet.

  Liv leaned forward, her eyes locked on Griffin’s. She was the kind of woman who, when there’s bad news to tell, will speak it plain, looking a person right in the eyes. “You must know by now that the portal links eight worlds together. Each one has an exact replica of the tower in your lighthouse. But apart from that, the worlds couldn’t be more different. Somni has colonized four of them; only Caligo and Stella have been able to beat back their invading forces. Our home world, Vinea, has been under Somni control for a hundred years. The priests believe our population is completely subdued, that the resistance went extinct long ago.”

  Eb cut in. “And we keep them believing this because we operate in the shadows, invisible. We’re spies for now, nothing more. All the priests see when they look at us is servants. No matter how much we might want to blow up that tower or take out the priests one by one, we can’t do anything that will expose the presence of the resistance here, not until we’re sure we can defeat Somni for good. If the priests learn that the Vinean resistance is alive, they will slaughter every last one of us, and Vinea will be lost. Forever.”

  Griffin ate. And he drank in their words like someone dying of thirst.

  “Your Earth is a relatively new interest. When Dr. Hibbert and the Keepers realized Somni was laying the groundwork for colonization, they searched for us. They guessed that a resistance must exist from at least one of the other seven worlds, and they believed their survival hinged on cooperation with us. They sent an anthropologist as their envoy: your mother. Katherine moved among us for years. She studied our network, and she proposed a way for our worlds to work together. She even reached out to Caligo, but their spiritual leader, the Levitator, wouldn’t support any plan that might lead to more violence.”

  Eb paused, and Liv continued. “But after a time it became clear that not everyone from Earth shared Katherine’s intentions. We began to suspect Dr. Hibbert was working against us.”

  Griffin picked at the bread on his plate, his appetite gone.

  Liv’s face clouded over, and she tensed up the way she did when something big was about to happen. Suddenly Fi wanted to reach out and cove
r Griffin’s ears, shield him from whatever Liv had to say next. It wasn’t easy, the things you had to get used to living this kind of life. Fi had never known any different. But Griffin had, and it seemed cruel to drag him into this.

  “Katherine had always known how dangerous her work was, especially those moments when she accessed the portal. If she was ever seen coming or going from this world, she couldn’t turn to us for help without betraying the resistance. If she fled home to Earth, the priests would only have followed her there, straight to you, and your father.”

  Griffin blanched. The plate began to rattle in his hands, and Fi lifted it away, setting it on the floor in front of his crossed shins. She hadn’t planned on getting drawn into all this. She was going to turn Griffin over to Liv and Eb and let them take care of it—whatever that meant. She was here to do a job, not to collect strays, and definitely not to start feeling bad for them.

  Liv didn’t wait for Griffin to calm himself. “Three years ago Katherine left us to return home. We created a diversion, and she snuck into the tower to activate the portal. But the priests were there, waiting for her. They knew exactly when to expect her. We were too far away to help—all we could do was watch as the beams flicked on, illuminating her silhouette high in the lantern room. The soldiers closed in and knocked her to the floor. We could only watch as their batons rose and fell over and over again.”

  Liv didn’t wave her emotions around like a flag where anyone could see them. But replaying that moment was too much, even for her. She bowed her head, pinching the bridge of her nose and blinking in stuttering bursts.

  Eb laid his hand on Griffin’s shoulder. “We never saw Katherine again.”

  Griffin gripped the cushions beneath him, his chest heaving as if suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room. Everything went silent except for his ragged gasps. When he finally found his voice, it was weighed down, too heavy almost to be heard in the close space. “They told me she died in an accident.”