The Cardinal Gate

by Amy Cissell

Isaac glanced at me, and I nodded. I was sure it was him, but not sure enough to take any chances.

  “I am Isaac Walker. I’ve been following your elven ass around for too long, and if you don’t get that knife out of my face in three seconds, Finnegan Byrne, you won’t have a hand to hold it.”

  Finn dropped his knife arm. I sheathed my sword, jumped on Isaac, and kissed him. He returned the kiss and then tightened his arms around me, looking over my shoulder at Finn.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “Why don’t we eat while we discuss,” I suggested, opening the first pizza box.

  We ate, drank, and filled each other in on the events of the night.

  “I thought things couldn’t get any weirder,” Isaac said.

  I laughed and ignored the note of hysteria. “I can’t wait to go play with the witch tomorrow. Today was altogether too dull.”

  Isaac leaned over and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Sleep well, Princess.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A PATCH OF light streaming across my face woke me the next morning. Isaac was sitting at the small table, reading a paper and drinking a steaming cup of coffee. Finn was nowhere to be seen. It looked shockingly normal, like something that was happening in motel rooms all over the country. My eyes locked in on his coffee. I could smell it now—dark and rich.

  Isaac looked at me and smiled. “Good morning, Princess.”

  “Mmmmmrrrmph,” I replied. I needed that coffee. It smelled so much better than the stuff offered in the motel office. It smelled like good coffee. Home coffee. I crawled out of bed and stumbled towards Isaac. I put my best winsome expression on my still sleepy face and tried to look at him with innocent eyes. It was hard to do when I was standing, so I perched myself on his lap, knocking the paper aside.

  I tried again. “Good morning, Isaac.” I twirled a lock of his hair around my finger.

  His grin became a full-on laugh. He reached around behind him and produced a second cup of coffee and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I breathed. I inhaled the rich aroma and savored that smell before taking a tiny sip. I was prepared for the burnt flavor of poorly roasted coffee, but what I got instead was smoky and satisfying, lightened with the perfect amount of real cream. I slid off Isaac’s lap and sat in the other chair. About halfway through my beverage, I realized I still had a silly smile on my face, my eyes were closed, and it was morning.

  I opened my eyes and looked accusingly at Isaac. “Why didn’t you wake me for my watch?”

  He opened his phone then wrote something down. “Finn didn’t wake me until almost four. I wasn’t about to wake you in an hour for your turn, so I stayed up.”

  “Do you need a nap now? What about Finn?”

  “I’m fine. Legendary shifter stamina and all that.”

  My breath caught as I pictured him naked, on top of me, demonstrating his legendary stamina.

  “What are you thinking about? You look serious.”

  I muttered, “Nothing much,” into my coffee before taking a big gulp.

  Isaac hooked one hand around the arm of my chair and dragged it closer to him. “I’d like to hear a little bit more about this ‘nothing.’”

  I opened my mouth but hadn’t yet decided between clever retort or quick kiss when the door opened. Finn was framed in the sunlight and I wished I had my sword in hand; or a throwing knife at least. Everything had taken a back seat to my morning coffee. If the danger was going to keep growing at the same exponential rate at which it was already going, I needed to get in the habit of arming myself before hunting and gathering the caffeine.

  Finn walked into the room and saw me eyeing him. “Front porch, Jonathan Deacon, alder stake.”

  “Please, it was my front porch. Anyone could’ve been watching.”

  He grinned. “Fine. The Perch. Men’s room. Night we met.”

  I turned so red that my face felt like it was on fire. Recent events being what they were caused me to double-check that I was not, in fact, literally steaming.

  “That was evil, Finn.”

  “Bar bathroom on the night you met?” Isaac asked. I was glad he sounded amused instead of jealous or disgusted. “Kinda trashy, isn’t it?”

  I glared at him. “Oh, and the back hallway at a dance club isn’t?” I rethought my retort. “Maybe I am kinda trashy.”

  “I was teasing. You’re not trashy, you’re perfect.” I grinned up at him—still embarrassed but slightly mollified. “Besides, Princess, you’re ignoring the most important issue at hand.”

  “What’s that?” I took another sip of coffee.

  “He brought food, and it’s getting cold.”

  I stood up and pounced on the bag that Finn held out. I grabbed a fast food sandwich from the bag, handed the bag to Isaac, and started wolfing down my ham and egg croissant. I was always hungry lately. I eyed the bag that Isaac and Finn were rummaging through, hoping that there was more than one in there for me. Isaac caught my eye and tossed me a second sandwich.

  “How long before she asked?” Finn asked Isaac in a low tone.

  “Ten minutes,” Isaac replied, tilting a piece of paper towards Finn.

  I glared at them, trying to look both disappointed and reproachful. “You bet on how long it would take me to realize I hadn’t taken my turn at watch?”

  “We didn’t bet money,” Finn said. He didn’t sound even a bit ashamed. “I wanted to bet you wouldn’t say anything intelligible before coffee, but Isaac wouldn’t take that bet.”

  “I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but I know enough that there isn’t a force on earth that will get anything useful out of Eleanor before she’s caffeinated.”

  I stuck my tongue out at them both. “I need to be better. I didn’t even think to grab my throwing knives or sword before I was across the room trying to figure out how to relieve Isaac of his coffee. I’m totally like a zombie, except coffee is my brains.” I held out my arms and affected a slack expression. “Coooofffffeeeeeee.”

  “How did you relieve Isaac of his coffee?” Finn asked, ignoring my zombie humor.

  “He gave me my own.”

  I knew I wasn’t imagining the look of relief in his eyes when he teased, “Wasted opportunity, man.”

  “I wasn’t sure what would happen,” Isaac said. “It could’ve erupted into violence at any moment.”

  “I’m trying to be serious,” I growled.

  “The zombie impersonation made that clear,” Isaac agreed.

  “Bite me.”

  “Any time, Princess.” The look he gave me caused a tendril of heat to spark low in my core.

  “Okay,” Finn said rather too loudly. “Let’s talk more about your pre-caffeine needs.”

  “I need to think of weapons and defense before coffee. If you’d been another imposter, I wouldn’t have been prepared.”

  “You didn’t need physical weapons last night,” Finn said.

  “The knives helped. They distracted him long enough to get the magical bag over his head. We won’t always have enemies invulnerable to my edged weapons—or vulnerable to my magic. I’d never take out a shifter that way.”

  “I agree, but I want you to remember that you always have formidable weapons at your disposal. You are never defenseless.”

  I finished my coffee. I didn’t want to think about how I’d killed someone the night before.

  “I’m going to take a shower. What time are we meeting the witch?” I asked Isaac.

  “Ten-thirty, so you’ve got a couple of hours. And princess…”

  “I won’t call her a witch to her face.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Where are we meeting the witch?” I asked as Isaac drove out of the parking lot.

  “At her business. Her name is Florence White Elk. She works with the local Pack. If her arrangement is anything like the Northwest Pack’s arrangements, she’ll be kind of on retainer, like a lawyer. We have one of those, too, by the way. You never know when you might need a fast talker when yo
u’re dealing with adolescent shifters. They get into all sorts of trouble.”

  “Adolescents? Don’t shifters reproduce by biting, like vampires?”

  “We are nothing like vampires,” Isaac growled.

  “Whoa, there. I just meant that vampires reproduce by biting.”

  Isaac took a deep breath. “It’s different than a vampire bite, but we can reproduce that way. It’s not the preferred method. I became a shifter through a ritualistic mauling, but most are born to shifter parents. Our birth rates are low; carrying a shifter to term is difficult and there’s a low probability of a human mate giving birth to a shifter baby.”

  I wanted to ask about the ritualistic mauling, but sensed that he wouldn’t answer. “I learn something new every day.”

  “We’re here,” Isaac said as he pulled into a parking spot in a strip mall.

  The strip mall had a new age bookstore, a yogurt shop, two empty storefronts, and a video poker establishment.

  “Classy,” I commented. I headed towards the bookstore. Isaac caught my arm and turned me towards the other end of the strip. “Stereotypes are hurtful to everyone,” he chided, and led me to the video poker establishment.

  It was smoky, and even at 10:30 in the morning, there were a half dozen people sitting on stools, drinking coffee or beer, and feeding twenties into the machines. Their faces reflected the sickly glow of the machines, and they looked a lot more zombie-ish than I had earlier. I shuddered and looked for our hostess.

  A Native American woman appeared behind the bar and gestured us forward. She was taller than me—most people were—about 5’6”. Long, black hair that was heavily streaked with silver framed an unlined face that made her age difficult to gauge. She was solid, almost stocky, but when she moved, muscles rippled under her skin. Blue jeans and a scarlet button-down blouse emphasized my initial impression of averageness. Her appearance wasn’t memorable in any way—until I looked into her eyes.

  They were dark pools, too deep to plumb. Her gaze pulled me in until I was drowning in it. She reached out and touched my face, and that’s when I realized that I’d moved.

  “You are going to destroy this world,” she intoned, her voice rich and resonating as though multitudes were speaking through her. “That course is set. You are also the potential instrument of its salvation. There are many obstacles in your way. Secrets that have been kept from you will soon come to light and threaten to destroy everything. You will not make it to the end intact, and you will lose someone close to your heart before this is over. Accept help where it is offered, whatever the source. Never forget that although you were not born of this world, you are of it now.”

  Her hand dropped from my face, and I stepped back. She was glowing slightly, and I no longer thought her unremarkable. Her power shone through her, and it made her stunning.

  She looked at me and then grinned as her gaze traveled up and down my body. She pursed her lips appreciatively. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Sometimes I can’t help saying what I See.”

  “Prophecy?” Isaac asked.

  “Indeed. I’m Florence White Elk.” She held out her hand, and I grasped it tentatively. “We’re good,” she said. “It’s unlikely I’ll get a vision every time we touch.”

  We shook hands, and then she led us to a small table in back.

  “Don’t you need to keep an eye on the gamblers out front?” I asked.

  “I’ve got the security cameras for that, plus they will only move if they run out of twenties. I go around every thirty minutes or so and fill up their drinks. That keeps them happy.”

  I shivered. “Creepy.”

  “It’s a living.”

  “Doesn’t the pack pay you enough?” Isaac asked.

  “My business arrangements are not your concern,” she replied.

  He bowed slightly. “Of course, Ms. White Elk. Forgive me.”

  She nodded with narrowed eyes and asked, “Why have you come to me? Why have you humiliated the Alpha in front of his pack, sowing dissent throughout the ranks and in his marriage?”

  “Christ,” Isaac muttered. “That was not my intent.”

  “You may have to take the pack to prevent an internecine war,” Florence said.

  “Greg is an idiot,” Isaac said. “He could’ve given me what I wanted without a fight, saved face, and saved his pack.”

  “And what did you want?” she asked.

  “You.”

  She looked at him, her gaze brimming with power.

  “I am not a commodity to be bartered or fought over,” she said. “I may work with the Pack, but they don’t own me.”

  Isaac waved his hand, stirring the air clear of the misinterpretation. “That’s not what I meant. I wanted your contact information. We have two requests and recognize that you’re free to help us or not. Your name and number were what he wouldn’t share without a fight. I even suggested he pass on my contact information to you so that you had the choice of whether or not to get in touch with us. I trusted his honor. He wanted a fight, though, so a fight was what we had. He was stupid.”

  “If those are the choices you offered, then he is stupid. But, his standing with the Pack was tenuous before you arrived.” She leaned back. “It isn’t my place to share Pack secrets and dish Pack gossip, so let’s move on. What are your requests?”

  Isaac looked at me, so I cleared my throat and tried to figure out how to say what I needed say.

  “You’re aware of who I am and what I’m doing?”

  Florence nodded.

  “So, you know that less than two weeks ago, I opened the first gate between this world and the Fae plane in Portland?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Are you contractually obligated to kill me now?” I asked. “The local covens were more than a little perturbed by my plans.”

  “I’m not going to kill you. I’m not excited about the idea of free traffic between our two worlds, but I have reasons of my own for wanting you to succeed.”

  I opened my mouth to ask, but she held up a hand and forestalled me. “You don’t need to know right now. There may come a time when I’ll trust you with my story, but that time isn’t now.

  “Stop stalling and tell me what you want.”

  I took a deep breath. This was so much harder to admit to a stranger than to agonize about in front of friends.

  “You know what happened when I opened the gate.” I let the words flood out, hoping she wouldn’t ask questions. “I can’t have that happen again. I need to find a way to contain the magic pulse, or mitigate it, or deflect it, or something. I can’t kill a few hundred people every few weeks. I won’t.”

  She looked at me closely as if she were trying to see inside me. Remembering the feel of her power on my skin, I shivered. She probably was trying to see inside me.

  “You didn’t know,” she said.

  “Of course not!” I was indignant. “Why does everyone think I would willingly kill off a bunch of people for no reason?”

  “There is a reason,” she said. “But your ignorance speaks both ill and well of you. How certain are you that there are no more secrets being kept from you?”

  I looked over my shoulder at the men standing behind me, trying to see into them the way Florence had looked into me. “There are secrets, but I’ve been told those secrets have more to do with them than me. Regardless, they’ve both been warned that withholding information I need means that they have reached the end of the line with me. I won’t tolerate being kept deliberately ignorant.” It may have been my imagination, but they both looked uncomfortable.

  Florence interrupted my train of thought, “You want me to help you to figure out a way to mitigate the damage caused by opening the gates that will destroy my world?”

  I opened my mouth to protest her wording, but decided that was as accurate as I deserved from a witch and nodded. She shot me an amused glance and then started speaking again. “And the second request? I hope it isn’t of the same magnitude as the first.”


  Finn took this one. “Ellie…Eleanor…is coming into some significant magical power. I know it’s likely different from your own as you’re different magical races, but we were hoping that either you or someone you know could spend a little time training her. She’s so far exhibited some significant earth and air powers, and if the random smoking is any indication, fire is lurking below the surface.”

  “That is easier remedied,” Florence said. “Give me your contact information. I’ll think on your requests and have a decision for you within the week.”

  Isaac gave her an index card with his number on it and she stood up. We were dismissed.

  We headed back to the car and got in.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  Two hours later, Isaac and I were checking into our new accommodations—a KOA cabin near Hill City. The pull from the campground was almost as strong as what I’d felt the day before, but this time, it was coming from the south. Finn popped off to get the rest of our stuff. I headed to the campground store to see what I could pick up for lunch. There weren’t a lot of choices. I got some soda and a few pre-packaged sandwiches and headed back to our cabin.

  The cabin itself was tiny—two rooms, neither of which were bathrooms. I sighed. At least we weren’t sleeping under the stars. Yet.

  Isaac was sitting on the porch swing looking at our map. We’d drawn the lines arced out from the general direction I’d felt the gate pull, and there was an intersection now.

  “Harney Peak?” I asked.

  “Looks like,” he said.

  “I don’t want to get too set on this being the place. We should at least check out a few other likely places.”

  “Do you think landmarks are more likely than a random spot in the mountains?” Isaac asked. “It was pretty random in Forest Park.”

  “That’s an excellent point. I’m not sure why I’m so set on it being something I can find on a map—maybe I want it to be easier. This could be complete bullshit, but if the site is someplace with significant magical or spiritual significance, it would be easier for a gate to anchor there. Less natural resistance?”