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The Gates

Page 7

by Rachael Wade


  “I only wished I would’ve talked to you first,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “But everything happened so fast, and I knew you’d talk me out of it—”

  “Aud.” I reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s already forgotten. What matters now is making things right—for everyone involved.”

  “I missed you, Camille Hart.”

  “Missed you, too.” I nudged her and smiled, pointing to the bowl. “Let’s just never speak again about those temporary lapses in sanity, huh? Now finish the eggs or else the cavemen will be starved. I’ll take the bread and butter out—”

  Scarlet flew through the door and grabbed up the tray I was reaching for. “Ugh. I forgot how boring humans can be. No offense.” She crinkled her nose as she lifted the tray, which held the empty plates. I managed to turn my back in time. She didn’t see me roll my eyes.

  “None taken,” Audrey mumbled. “Speaking of boring humans, why is it you want to be one again?”

  “Audrey, don’t start.” I whispered, handing Scarlet a loaf of bread from the ones I’d made the day before. I didn’t look at her.

  Scarlet snatched the bread from my hand. “Oh, I’m just as tired of Samira’s rule as everyone else is, thank you very much. Mostly I just go where the action is, though.”

  Since our exchange the night we arrived, I avoided conversation with Scarlet as much as possible, but when she and Audrey got into their little scuffles, it was hard to resist jumping in.

  This time, it was easy. “So you joined the resistance and jumped into the middle of a war because you were bored?”

  “Camille, don’t start,” Audrey chimed, giving me a smartass grin. I picked up the butter crock and threatened her with it before placing it on the tray.

  “As far as I’m concerned, Samira needs to be tossed out with the garbage,” Scarlet continued, intentionally bumping into me as she reached for more plates. “But I have other motives, of course.”

  “Oh, I bet you do.” Audrey placed the platter of scrambled eggs on another tray, glanced at me, and picked up the tray. “Hey, Scarlet. Need the rolling pin? I have somewhere you can shove it.” She bumped into her, knocking the plates from her hand before slipping out of the kitchen to head toward the living area, leaving me alone with the hussy. Great.

  Scarlet scoffed and bent down to pick up the plates, staring Audrey down as she watched her stroll from the room. “Is there a reason I threaten you, Camille?” She turned her attention to me now. “Are you sincerely that unsure of your relationship with Gavin?” She placed the plates on the counter and suddenly cornered me, dipping her finger in the bowl clutched in my hand, licking the batter. I shoved the bowl forward and moved around her. I’d had it with her little underhanded comments, and now she was starting to be downright vicious.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” I shot back. “Are you so unsure of yourself that you feel the need to constantly try to intimidate me?”

  “Oh, I don’t have to try, sweetie. You’re an easy target. That’s probably why Gavin feels for you. You appeal to his sympathetic streak. It must be the humanitarian in him.” Hissing, she shoved me into the corner again, one hand to my throat, her fangs bared. “He won’t even sleep with you, will he?” She studied my face. “You poor thing, unable to meet his needs.”

  “What do you want, Scarlet? You want him? Go ahead and try. Be my guest. But for the record, there’s nothing appealing about sloppy seconds.”

  “Careful, Camille,” she hissed, cocked her head to the side. “I’ll have him again soon enough. Weak little mortals aren’t his thing. He might be shy, but he’s deliciously rough.” She smiled down at me, licking her lips. “He needs someone who can keep up with his appetite. Something you can’t do, I assure you.”

  “Scarlet.” Audrey. Her voice cold. “Gavin’s taken. Get over it. Go find another shiny new toy. I’m sure there are plenty of eager new contenders you can sink your teeth into. Now piss off.”

  Scarlet let go of me and swung around to face her. “On second thought, maybe I’ll have both Gavin and Gabe. Old conquests are always fun to revisit.” She shoved Audrey away and hitched up her skirt before she headed toward the crowd in the living area, and instinct told me her sights were set on Gabe.

  “Did I or did I not tell you she was trouble?” Audrey slammed her apron down, her temper flaring. “She’s been with Gabe, too? That’s it!”

  “Oh, yeah. I think it’s time we have a chat with those boys. Right now.” I tossed my apron down, too. We headed toward the living area but shouts and screams startled us midstride, followed by the sounds of chairs breaking and punches being thrown. We stopped, glanced at one another, then catapulted ourselves toward the commotion, but went wide-eyed and helpless when we spotted the eruption taking place.

  7

  THE BEGINNING OF THINGS TO COME

  Gavin stood on a chair, shouting, “Everyone, calm down! Let’s sit down and talk civilly!” He failed to get the men’s attention. It seemed they were more interested in swinging and hollering at one another. Though already high, I felt the tension in the room escalating. The front door was wide open; villagers outside were trying to make their way in, burning torches, swords, and all kinds of silver blades in their hands, ready to stampede through our tiny home.

  “Holy hell, what do we do?” Audrey shouted over the ruckus.

  “I don’t know, why doesn’t Gavin just stop them?”

  “Camille,” Gavin shouted and waved to me, “get out, now!” I looked to the cooking area and grabbed Audrey’s hand, whisked her away. Once outside, we made our way around to the front of the house to find crowds of people trying to break in through the windows and front door. The uproar inside sounded like it was growing.

  “Where are Gabe and Josh?” Panicking, Audrey searched through the sea of faces swarming around us.

  “I think they’re still out near the West Village,” I said. “If this keeps up, the guards will be here next. Come on, let’s go find them!”

  Audrey grabbed my hand and we worked our way around the crowd, pushing, shoving and kneading our way through until I felt Audrey’s hand leave mine and I couldn’t see her anymore.

  “Aud?” I squirmed my way through, searched for her face.

  “That’s enough!” A woman’s voice broke through the clamor, a loud bellowing that caused the villagers to ogle around them, searching for the source. People were thrown backward, away from the front door and windows, cast through the air as if thrown from an explosion. Gavin appeared through the doorway, his eyes wide, searching for Audrey and me. He was at my side in an instant, gripping me tight behind him.

  “What’s going on?” I yelled.

  “Someone’s helping us, but I don’t know who—” He spotted Gabe and Josh the same instant I did, and signaled them to join us.

  “Where you been, man?” he barked at Josh. “Been telling you to get over here for fifteen minutes now.”

  “We tried to get here as soon as we could, Gav. It was crazy on the west end, too. What the hell’s going on?”

  The woman’s voice rang through the crowd again, causing the commotion to settle down, the villagers shushing one another and murmuring quietly. “Everyone to Preservation Hill!” she ordered, suddenly appearing from the end of the street. She casually strolled through the crowd, everyone clearing a path for her as she walked toward us. “Now, before we draw anymore attention to ourselves!”

  I watched, astonished, while she waved her hand through the air, flinging more people away from the house with an invisible force similar to Samira’s. The crowd obeyed, turning in the direction of the hills, away from the village.

  “I respect what you’re trying to do here, Mr. Devereux,” she said to Gavin, “but this needs to be done in private. Word is spreading fast. Come,” the woman patted his back, motioned him to follow her. Her naturally wavy, strawberry blonde hair hit her hips, and she looked middle-aged, with a gentle and concerned face. My thoughts scattered. How did she kno
w Gavin’s name? There are witches inside the gates of Amaranth?

  She ushered all of us into what at first appeared to be a hole in the ground. But the hole turned out to be an entrance, buried alongside a vast green hill near the windmill, that led to a large underground space. From there she led us down a flight of wooden stairs. The space here was dark, with cave-like walls and damp recesses. The walls were lined with shelves that housed all sorts of artifacts and texts, like some sort of museum or library. My eyes scanned the items, fascinated, though my mind was mostly preoccupied with relief at being out of that terrible crowd scene.

  “These people need to know you’re not here to whip them back into Samira’s submission,” the woman said to Gavin, then turned to face the crowd while everyone huddled around us to listen.

  “Do I know you?” Gavin raised his eyebrows, examined her face.

  “No, but I know you. Knew your parents. They were good people. My name’s Cecile.”

  Audrey gripped my arm, and her jaw dropped as she stepped around Gavin and me to face the woman. “Cecile,” she whispered, staring intently into her eyes. “I’ve been looking for you … I think you’re my …”

  “Audrey,” Cecile reached out and brushed her cheek, a sentimental smile seizing her face. “I don’t get out much, like to stay hidden from this hellhole city. Come, sweetheart. We’ve much to discuss.” With a knowing look, she slowly extended her hand, and eyes aglow, Audrey willingly took it. Cecile motioned to Gavin to address the people while she took Audrey in her arms and led her away from the crowd.

  “This just keeps getting crazier and crazier.” Gabe looked at me, dumbfounded, exchanging glances with Gavin and Josh.

  “Tell me about it.” My eyes followed Cecile and Audrey until they were no longer in sight. The four of us buckled together, then allowed Gavin to step in front of us to handle the crowd.

  “Please, everyone, listen to what I have to say. And then spread the word throughout the villages.” Gavin cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the cave walls. “We were trying to meet with small groups in our home, to do this quietly, but I understand your concern and I know you all want answers. We’re not here to hurt you, or to force anything upon you, although I know that’s what you were told.”

  “Then what do you want with us?” a husky voice demanded, igniting a new wave of chatter throughout the crowd.

  “It’s true that I was sent here by Samira. To put a stop to the resistance and to end your rebellion against her laws. I am to use my reading abilities to help influence you, and redirect your energy toward living a peaceful, submissive lifestyle again. That’s what Samira assumes I am here to do, but I’m here to do the opposite.”

  The chattering faded to silence and everyone zoned in on Gavin. Gabe, Josh and I carefully scanned the haven walls as he spoke, keeping an eye out for any guards or signs of intrusion.

  “With your help and support, I’d like to end Samira’s reign. My friends and I have a ring of protection around us, thanks to help from an original conjurer friend we can trust. We were able to penetrate the outer walls of the castle and confront Samira without one scratch on our bodies. It turns out, Hoodoo can be used amongst my kind, and right now, Samira cannot touch us.”

  The villagers burst into uproar again, shaking their heads in disbelief and shouting questions. Among them were, “Why couldn’t Samira break through your protection?”, “You can use the same magic as the hybrids? But humans can’t use it on you!”, and a final question: “You can’t possibly have a spell that powerful!”

  Gavin addressed one of the men who’d challenged him. “But we do, sir. Our invincibility to humans’ magic is just another defense mechanism we were designed to have. Our friend went out of her way to cast this sort of protection, and to give us this energy. As you might imagine, it’s putting her people in the line of fire with Samira and the frozen souls. This protection won’t last forever, though, which is why we’re limited on time. Our success depends on your loyalty and your cooperation. The resistance on earth is coming to help us, and they will have this protection, too. Just enough to take down Samira and her guards.”

  “What do we have to do, son?” The same interrogative man stepped forward to stare Gavin down, his brow furrowed and eyes determined. “And how do you know we can escape from here, even if we bring her down?”

  “You have to make it appear as if you’re submitting. Samira needs to see that I’m following through with my orders. That I’ve won your trust, convinced you to obey her again. Only then can we strike. Samira’s magic is the only thing holding you here. You can return to earth then.”

  “What’s in it for you, son?”

  “I want what you want. She agreed to remove my curse if I persuaded you all, but I intend to gain more than just my freedom. I want freedom for all, and justice for my parents, who led this city years ago, before Samira killed them both. I’m on your side, sir. My loyalty belongs to the Amaranthians.”

  Gavin laid out the plan to the crowd, describing the second strike that would take place less than three months from now, on the first day of the crescent moon. Cecile and Audrey returned to join us, Cecile pulling a slate calendar from a chest and handing it to Gavin. He hung the calendar in front of us, showing the moon’s cycles as he continued to elaborate on the plan.

  After a talk that sounded to me like a pep rally back home, the crowd gathered in clusters, waiting to shake Gavin’s hand before they ascended from the haven. I stood back with my friends, watching Gavin claim his leadership position. He slipped me a smile in between handshakes, and I was mesmerized again by the sight of him taking charge, transforming and moving toward his fate. I returned his warm smile and headed back to the village with Audrey, Gabe and Josh, feeling more at ease and hopeful despite the long months ahead.

  * * *

  I sat in the windmill, a place I’d come to think of as my quiet spot. My journal sat on my lap, but I hesitated. How could I possibly channel any inspiration into thoughts for my novel at a time like this? Because of hope, I decided. I’d follow through with writing the novel in hopes that this would all eventually feel like a bad dream, that the time spent here would be a fleeting, blurry memory. And that there would be life after this. The show must go on, I thought to myself in a cheesy, theatrical voice.

  The uprisings had died down all throughout the city, each village growing quieter and quieter as the months passed. The crescent moon we’d all been waiting for was just weeks away now, and we watched Cecile’s moon-cycle calendar like hawks while we went about our daily chores. The modest, Old World clothing now felt comfortable to me. In a similar way, I felt myself adapting to my new environment, missing earth less and less. My Louisiana home and my former bookstore job seemed faint memories now, and I gladly embraced my new, temporary home with hopes for a better future for my friends and me.

  Audrey and Cecile were inseparable now, constantly cooking, cleaning and laughing with one another, Cecile regularly filling her in on their family’s history. Turned out Cecile was the only Voodoo witch in Amaranth, though she was once a vampire until she went into exile. She’d learned to practice magic and became a witch after she settled into exile, turning into a recluse and rarely venturing from her home except to occasionally use Hoodoo to help the Amaranthians. Most of the Amaranthians had never heard of her, and those who had thought she’d died long ago. Still, her magic was no match for Samira. And she wasn’t an original conjurer like Vivienne. She knew her place, and relied on her practices only to protect herself and others from crime and other threats throughout the city.

  Josh relocated to the west end of the village, where he helped the farmers and assisted with hard labor. He was able to keep an eye on the guards and their treatment of the people there. I was beginning to miss Gavin. I’d been seeing him less and less while he worked with the people to maintain a facade for the guards. A strange loneliness had begun to set into me, but I worked to mollify it, knowing the third month’s crescent
moon was quickly approaching and it would soon be time to attack and hopefully return to earth.

  Feeling my eyes growing heavy, I closed my journal and looked out the windmill’s window, saw how late it was getting. Audrey would need help with our dinner.

  The sky began to make its usual transition from muted gray to an inky black, and the wind picked up as I climbed my way to the bottom of the windmill. Gavin made his way toward me from the distance, with an uneasy, nervous walk that immediately put me on edge. I lifted my lantern to better see his face, and my heartbeat accelerated when I saw his distress.

  “Camille.” He made the last few strides up the hill to meet me, hands in pockets, a restrained anguish darkening his expression. I reached for his face, saddened by his disposition. He lowered my hand and returned it to my side, his eyes filled with torment.

  “What …” I swallowed, my eyes following the trail of his abrupt rejection. “What’s wrong?”

  “We need to talk.” He inhaled sharply and stuffed his hands back into his pockets, took a step back.

  I lowered my lantern, an instinctual clench seizing my stomach. Something was very wrong. “Okay. What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure how to tell you this, I …”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Hurry, come with me inside,” he rushed forward, taking me by the arm to lead me back inside the windmill.

  He slid the wooden door shut and secured it, gulped and took another step back from me, ran both hands through his hair, his expression becoming more pained by the second.

  “Gavin?” I eased myself forward, dread chilling my heart. “You’re really scaring me, what’s going on?”

  He skimmed his chin with his fingers and loosened his collar, looking everywhere but at me. “Something’s happened, Camille. We have to stay away from each other or everyone’s going to be in danger.”

 

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