The Cardinal Gate

by Amy Cissell

  “Werewolves are a yes, although not just wolves. There are shifters of all species, although they are usually predators. I don’t believe any of them are bound to change during a full moon unless they’re being pretentious about it.

  “Witches—yes and no. There are people who can do what you would consider magic. You’ll be able to do magic, and you are not a witch. Witch is generally considered a derogatory term to denote someone of little power or bad intent. Those who are of this world and can do magic call themselves mages, practitioners, or sorcerers—if they’re headed towards the Dark Side. Never, ever call them wizards unless you want pubic lice. Trust me. Apparently, Gandalf isn’t as much of a role model as you’d think.

  “As for unicorns—I’ve never seen one, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot. I haven’t spent much time on the Fae Plane, and who knows what sorts of wondrous creatures abide there?”

  I leaned forward and forgot all about my coffee. “This is insane. If that damned hedge wasn’t growing in front of my eyes and I hadn’t seen you stake a vampire last night, I wouldn’t believe it.” I tilted my head to one side. “Maybe I’m suffering from a psychotic break.”

  “You’re not psychotic—at least not any more than usual.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Now I want to talk about what comes next.” Finn stood up and stretched, then settled into a cross-legged position on the porch. He looked up at me long enough for me to become uncomfortable. I sighed and moved over so he could sit next to me.

  “During the last great supernatural war, the vampires, practitioners, and shifters buried old enmities and joined together to force the Fae off Earth and back to their own plane. The witches, using the power they were able to raise from the other supernaturals, slammed closed the gates that had allowed easy travel between planes. Those gates have moved over the years, but there have always been eight—one for each of the Pagan High Holidays. They are currently scattered around North America, although I don’t know exactly where.”

  “Why are they here? Shouldn’t they be in the old country?”

  “They’re here because the magic is younger and stronger here, and because the gates were closed in Europe.

  “You need to open them in a specific order on certain days—the old holidays which were taken from the Fae when they were worshiped as gods. Only a full-blooded Fae with strong connections to each world can open them. You’re connected to the Fae Plane through virtue of your birth and this world through virtue of your life. The final gate will open on Midsummer.”

  “A year? This is going to take a year?” I blinked rapidly and then punched Finn as hard as I could.

  Finn rubbed his shoulder. “Yes. You’re Fae, so you’ll live a lot longer than the average human. In the grand scheme of our lives, a year isn’t long.”

  “How long is longer than average?”

  “Forever, more or less. Provided you aren’t killed, you’re practically immortal. I’m only half Fae, so I’ll probably age and die eventually.”

  “How old are you, Finn?”

  He looked down. “Older than you. Does it matter?”

  “Right now, it does. How old?”

  “About 450.”

  “This keeps getting weirder and weirder.” I sighed, looked for my coffee, and rubbed my eyes. “So, what exactly happens if I open the gates? And what exactly happens if I pretend this never happened and go back to my normal life?”

  “To answer your first question, I’ve been told that nothing much will change. The Fae will be free to travel between worlds freely as once they did. Some might come live here, in the regions in which they are most comfortable. Most would likely stay on their plane but would have access to resources they don’t currently, like precious metals and stones, but this world has so much iron that few would feel comfortable setting up permanent residence.”

  “What’s the deal with the iron?”

  “Iron is to Fae as silver is to vampires and werewolves. Iron and the industrial revolution is what gave the powers opposing the Fae enough power to finally push them out. It burns—you’ll want to avoid being shackled or stabbed with iron.”

  “I kind of think that’s a given.”

  “If you’re stabbed with a silver blade, it’ll hurt, but unless it’s a solid hit, you’ll recover quickly. An iron blade would fester and weaken you, making recovery less likely and more difficult.”

  “Can I be killed by bullets?”

  “Yes, but it’ll usually take a direct shot to the heart or the brain to kill you before your body can heal the damage. I mean, I wouldn’t want to test an iron bullet and a gut shot, but if the bullet was removed from your body, you should be able to recover.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I catalogued this in the things I needed to remember but couldn’t currently process. “And if I say no?”

  “I’m not sure. The magic is flowing and nothing can stop it. My understanding is that the gates are a controlled way to let the magic into this world and without that, it’ll find every nook and cranny and break through. It’s the difference between a controlled sluice gate and a bursting dam.

  “Either way, you’re a target. You’ve been identified as the catalyst, the world-breaker—”

  “How? Who identified me? How do the bad guys know who I am? And what does “world-breaker” mean?”

  “There have been rumors for years that the world-breaker—the Fae destined to open the gates and change the course of history—was in Portland, but until the magic started breaking through at mid-summer, you looked ordinary. Now—to those who have the ability to see beyond the mundane—you kind of…glow. The magic recognized you and no matter what, you’ll never be the same. You won’t age—you’ll always look thirty-four.”

  “Who are the bad guys?”

  “There are certain groups of supernaturals who aren’t interested in changing the status quo.”

  “I’d think the magical beings in this world would welcome having the magic back. It must make it easier to be magic if there’s more to draw on.”

  “The supernatural races that aren’t Fae either don’t remember or are too young to know what they’re missing. The Fae were not always nice. They occasionally killed for no reason and they kidnapped the mage babies to keep as magical slaves. Overall, they were a pain in the ass.”

  “That sounds like the understatement of the century. Tell me why I’d want that to change.”

  “Things have changed. The Fae need contact with this world to renew their own magic, and this world needs the Fae magic to help eliminate the environmental imbalances that have sprung up since the Industrial Revolution.”

  It wasn’t enough of an answer, but I could tell by the set of Finn’s jaw that I wouldn’t get more from him right now. I wasn’t going to let this go, though. If there was opposition, I needed to understand it to make sure I wasn’t the bad guy. “So, you’re saying I have no choice?”

  “You have a choice. You can refuse, but I don’t think you’ll be allowed to return to your life. You were put here with a purpose, and if you refuse to fulfill it, you’ll lose the protection I can offer. The Fae, especially the old ones, are not known for their compassion.”

  “My choices, then, are to open the gates and bring down a barrier that was erected centuries ago for what might be excellent reasons or don’t and watch the world destroyed under a barrage of uncontrolled magic? Not great choices.”

  I drew my legs into my chest and rested my head on my knees. I didn’t want this. Any of this. It was too much responsibility and too much work. It was barely believable. I was a pragmatist, but Finn was asking me to believe more than six impossible things immediately after breakfast.

  Breakfast. Dammit. I shot out of the porch swing and threw up over the railing. When my stomach was empty and the retching finally stopped, I turned around and looked at Finn.

  “I can’t be responsible for the end of the world.”

  “This is who you are. Either you choose to go forward with me or you don’t.
Either way, you’re choosing, and either way the world is going to be shaken up.”

  I didn’t want to believe, and I didn’t want to go forward with this, but at the very least I owed it to everyone to find out if there was a way to stop the destruction from happening. I could do the work, find the first gate, learn to harness my powers, and still change my mind at any time. Agreeing now did not mean an iron-clad—or should that be some other metal, now that I knew I had a crazy iron allergy?—oath. “Fine. Let’s do this thing. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead and all that.”

  “The first gate has to be in Portland. You didn’t even think of moving anywhere else. I think it’s in Forest Park, which is why you spend so much time there. It calls to you. The next Pagan high holiday is in about five weeks. You have five weeks to learn everything you need to know, five weeks to get your affairs in order, and five weeks to find the gate.”

  Chapter Two

  EARLY THE NEXT morning, we hiked. It wasn’t the kind of hiking I was used to. We left the marked paths and found game trails while Finn kept up a constant barrage of instructions. “Reach out with your mind. Feel the forest. Find the plants, the animals, the humans, the supernatural beings. Feel for something different, sharper. Something that feels like home.”

  “Yoda, the whole forest feels like home. Wasn’t that your point yesterday?”

  “If it were that easy, Eleanor, you’d have moved in with me three years ago when I asked. I live much closer to the forest than you do.”

  “I thought you were joking!”

  “I never joke about cohabitation. The gate must be closer to your end of the forest than mine, and you didn’t want to leave it.”

  “Or I didn’t want to move in with my fuck buddy.” Finn grinned, but not before I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. “Sorry, Finn. That was harsher than I meant it to be.”

  “It is the truth, isn’t it? We are only friends with former benefits.”

  “Emphasis on friends, and isn’t my friendship benefit enough?”

  He smiled at me, but his expression was veiled. “Sit.” He motioned towards the forest floor and sank gracefully into a cross-legged pose. “Let’s talk about magic.”

  Three hours later, I was stiff, thirsty, dirty, and nowhere closer to understanding magic. “So, you’re saying my magic is earth-based, and I can affect the earth and growing things? I can feel anomalies in the land and heal them? And that this isn’t crazy?”

  “Yes. You’re bound to the earth—all the Fae are to differing degrees. Most are tied to different elements as well. Since you’re royalty, which generally means power, it wouldn’t surprise me to find that you have other—maybe even stronger—affiliations. You’ve never exercised your power on purpose, and you need the Fae magic to fill your power coffers, so to speak, so you’ve never had much to work with. I’ve gone back and forth between planes often enough to feel the difference between having plenty of power to draw on and having to rely mostly on my internal stores. Without Fae magic to use, everything you do will draw on your own personal stores—it’ll be exhausting, like a physical workout. You’ll be able to find trickles of magic here and there, but it won’t be enough to exercise your power.

  “That’s the main reason why so few Fae stay here and that the ones who do are usually lesser powers. It’s uncomfortable to be in a place where you’re cut off from the raw energy that is Fae magic. The Fae were responsible for keeping the earth in balance, environmentally speaking. When they were forced out, the imbalance accelerated, leaving the earth polluted and hovering on the verge of climatic destruction.

  “I’ve been told that once we open the first gate, that will fill you up and give you the power you need to unlock your abilities. However, before that happens, you need to learn the basics. It’ll be like learning to ride a bike. We’ll start now with training wheels so you can figure out the mechanics and start to find your balance, so that when the trainers come off, you won’t fall down.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “You know that I don’t actually ride a bike, right?”

  “It’s a metaphor. Go with it. Now, concentrate.”

  I closed my eyes and listened to Finn’s hypnotic voice. “Breathe deeply. Imagine you can see the trees surround you. You can feel them, they’re alive. You can feel the small plants and the ivy creeping up the tree trunks. You can feel the vibrations of the earth. You can feel the footsteps of humans and animals. The earth speaks to you.”

  My breathing slowed until it was almost imperceptible. I stretched out with my senses. Finn’s presence, warm and bright, but tinged with darkness, was in front of me. The ground, cool and shadowed, was solid below me, dark and rich. The trees were alive and swaying to the song created by chattering squirrels and singing birds. They rose up around me and the life force that emanated from them filled me with ecstasy and anticipation. There was something else, something I couldn’t quite identify. Something exuding hunger and frustration was stalking a human runner from the deep shadows.

  Energy surrounded me, encompassed me. I couldn’t label it—only that it was stronger than anything else in the forest. It called to me irresistibly, and the power of that pull was terrifying. I opened my eyes to tear myself away and found I was floating about five feet up in the air.

  I crashed to the earth, bruising my tail bone.

  “Motherfucker,” I muttered.

  “Anything?” Finn asked.

  “Everything is so alive.” I shivered, remembering what it was like to be flooded with energy. “I also felt something different. Something wild and scary, not natural.”

  “Where?”

  “That way.” I gestured off to the west. “Maybe if we start there next time, I can pinpoint it, especially now that I know what I’m looking for.”

  “That’s great. Do you want to try now?”

  “Hells to the no. I am exhausted and hangry. Time to head home.”

  The weekend had passed in a blur. I sorted and packed as if I was going on sabbatical. I told myself constantly that’s what this was—a short break from the real world. Whenever I was most distracted and least aware, Finn would appear behind me and either whack me with a training sword—which still hurt like crazy—or throw tennis balls at me. He claimed he was “testing my defenses” and I was bruised and battered by Sunday evening.

  “Eleanor, you need to be aware of your surroundings. You should’ve heard me behind you. If I’d been a vampire, you’d be dead.”

  “If you’d been a vampire, I wouldn’t have invited you into my basement and turned my back on you. What do you want from me? Other than a three-month fencing class at the community center, I’ve no training. How am I supposed to learn how to defend myself against weapons and magical creatures in five weeks?”

  Instead of answering, Finn threw a tennis ball at my head. It bounced off before I could even react. Why isn’t there some kind of super power related to reading speed? I growled in frustration, grabbed the ball, and hurled it back at Finn. It hit him in the center of his face and blood welled from his nose immediately. My jaw dropped. I was pretty sure I couldn’t have done that if I’d tried. “Sorry.” I hunched my shoulders up and pulled my head down in apologetic imitation of a turtle.

  “Don’t apologize. That was great.”

  I allowed myself a tiny proud grin and then Finn hurled the ball back at me like he was trying for the fastball pitch record at Yankee Stadium. “Dammit! Enough!” The ball exploded inches from my head, and there was a small rain of felt and dust, causing me to sneeze.

  Finn smiled smugly. “That’s how. You’re extremely powerful. You need to figure out what your powers are and how to harness them.”

  “In five weeks?”

  “All we need are the basics, and for that, you need to be alert. So pay attention.”

  The days turned into a pattern of increasing urgency. Trying to balance responsible-human Eleanor with leaving-on-a-quest-Fae Eleanor was ridiculous. I handed in my resignation, wrapped things up
at work, and tried to rent out my house, but most of my time was spent with Finn practicing various forms of combat and magical training: hand-to-hand, dagger work, throwing knives, sparring with the rapier Finn had found for me. I was exhausted, covered in bruises, and ached in places I didn’t even know I had muscles.

  Afternoons were spent in Forest Park as I tried to hone my magical skills and pinpoint the frightening, but desirable, anomaly that hid deep within the trees.

  After three weeks, I still wasn’t any further along than I’d been on the first day. I could only use my magic as a defense if I was extremely pissed off and not too tired. I was hit or miss with getting myself into a deep enough meditative state to follow the pull of the dark magic, and I could feel my own anxiety amping up with Finn’s frustration. “You need to concentrate. You are running out of time.”

  “I’m trying. Don’t you think if I could, I would? I’d do about anything to get you off my back,” I groused.

  “It’s not your back that I want to be on.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  “C’mon. We’ve been living together and working side by side for three weeks. Celibate. How are you still alive?”

  “We haven’t been sleeping together for years. What makes this time a big deal?”

  “I’ve been here with you constantly. You test my resolve.”

  “I test your resolve? I don’t think it’s your resolve that’s keeping you out of my bed. Friends only, Finn.”