Gateway to Fourline (The Fourline Trilogy Book 1)

by Pam Brondos

  “What about my questions?” Nat protested and grabbed her backpack.

  He held up his hand. “I left the Sisters trying to figure out a solution if you refused. We need to return with the good news. Hopefully Oberfisk and Andris haven’t done anything rash in the meantime.”

  “Andris may not think it’s such good news.” Nat slung her backpack over her shoulder and fell in step with Estos and Annin. The hall began to fill with students. A rush of cold wind blew over them as they approached the thick glass doors leading to the quad. Nat shivered. They stopped near a display case by the entrance. Computerized holograms of the planets spun in dizzying circles inside the case.

  “Come tomorrow afternoon.” Tomorrow was Friday. Estos grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

  “I want more answers before I go back.” She was not going to let him blow her off again with some other excuse. “I’m serious. Otherwise no deal.” She laid her hand on the display case. The planets spun under her fingers.

  “Tonight. You’ll get answers tonight,” Estos said over his shoulder. “Go to the place I showed you when you were sleeping.” A gust of wind slammed the door shut as soon as he let go.

  “I’ll try,” Nat said to herself as she watched the pair walk away into the wind. Estos looked back once and gave her an awkward wave. She bent down so she was eye level with the holograms. The tiny moons hurtled around Jupiter as it zipped past her nose. She wondered what tonight and tomorrow would bring.

  Instead of a ladder, a vine shot up from a small leafy patch in the middle of a bright-yellow meadow. Nat grabbed a stiff leaf and hauled herself up one leaf at a time until she reached the dark rim. She flung herself over the ledge. Her dream room was empty.

  “May I come in?” Annin hovered on the other side of the ledge, her face partially concealed by her dark hair. Nat scanned the whirling clouds behind Annin. No Estos.

  “Come on in. You remind me of Count Dracula.” Nat crossed her arms, still irritated with her.

  “Count Dracula?” Annin deftly vaulted the ledge and surveyed the emptiness. A green stained-glass lamp appeared above Nat’s head.

  “He’s a famous vampire,” Nat explained. Two white circular chairs popped into place next to her. “He always asked if he could come in. Then he would drain the blood of his victims, who were usually beautiful, brainless young women stupid enough to invite him in. They run the movie during Halloween Fest at the Bellmont. It’s probably not high on your list of social activities. Have a seat.” She gestured to a chair.

  “How do I remind you of Count Dracula?” Annin didn’t sit. She instead clutched the rounded edge of the chair.

  “I wasn’t . . . You just . . . It’s the ‘May I come in’ thing, that’s all. It’s a joke.”

  Annin relaxed her grip and spun the chair.

  Nat looked toward the ledge. “Is Estos coming?”

  “No, he can’t travel as far as I can. He would need to be in the same building with you to do this.” Annin plopped down into the chair with her legs dangling over the side.

  “But you don’t?” Nat asked, trying to hide her disappointment in not finding Estos waiting for her.

  “No. I can reach you from very far away,” she said so matter-of-factly that Nat ignored the possible threat and pressed on with her questions.

  “But I would still have to invite you in each time, right?”

  “Yes, but there are ways of getting around that. One thing you must learn to do is to send up sets of lines from your ledge and characterize them. It’ll protect you from unwanted visitors.”

  “Tell me about the lines first, then the unwanted visitors.” Nat intended on getting as many answers as she could. If she had to write an agenda to keep Annin on task, she would.

  Annin spun in the chair, her long hair now brushing the floor. The upside-down eye patch flashed each time she went round. “Think of an infinite number of perfectly parallel lines.” She stopped spinning and hopped off the chair. “Come here.” She took Nat’s arm and brought her close to the ledge. “Imagine a straight line starting here”—she pointed to a spot on the ledge—“that extends into infinity.”

  A white line shot up into the sky.

  “Good. Make another.” They walked along the ledge as one bright white line after another shot up into the darkness.

  “Now, in the back of your mind, imagine them extending forever in either direction. The trick is to keep that image in your head. Depending on who or what you want to keep out, characterize the lines. Heat is always a good choice,” Annin suggested.

  “Imagine the lines are hot?” Nat stood a few feet from the ledge, concentrating on the lines.

  “Exactly.”

  The lines changed in hue from yellow to light blue. Nat’s face warmed as she faced them.

  “You’re not as hopeless as I thought,” Annin said as she carefully touched a line.

  “Thanks a lot.” The lights began to fade.

  “No, don’t let them go, keep them up!” Annin’s yell brought the lines crashing down. Shards of glass shattered around them as they jumped behind the chairs to avoid the flying splinters.

  “You control it, Natalie!” Annin cried over the sound of breaking glass.

  I control this? Nat ducked behind the chair. She imagined the game of statues she used to play with MC. Silence filled the room. She opened her eyes. Suspended bits of glass and dust hung in the air.

  “Form the lines again, slowly,” Annin called out as she peered over the edge of the other chair. The glass moved around and upward until the pieces coalesced into bluish lines illuminating the ledge as far as Nat could see.

  “Keep that image in your head. Don’t let it go,” Annin said softly. The lines glowed and stayed in place. “Okay.” She let out a breath. “I have a new set of directions for tomorrow’s trip. Can you pull up Estos’ map while maintaining the image of the lines?” She gave Nat a doubtful look.

  Nat closed her eyes. When she opened them, a small forest hovered between the two chairs. Annin circled the map.

  “Where did you see the Na—thing in the trees?”

  Nat pointed to an area south of the cliff’s entrance. Annin pulled the sides of the map, and it stretched out in all directions. The top of the cliff was visible. It crumbled into a low, long plain to the north of the forest. A small house sat at the very southern edge of the map, not very far from the message tree. Annin pointed to the house.

  “That’s your destination.” She paused. “An old man, Benedict, lives there. He’ll have a response to the message you left. You’ll tell him Sister Barba sent you. But don’t tell him anything else. Sister Barba, Ethet, and Estos trust him, but he is a rat.” She punctuated each word.

  “Wonderful.”

  “He won’t be a problem for you. He’s trustworthy enough with his own kind. No, your problem is getting to his house.” Annin examined the map a moment, then traced a path up and over the cliff and straight down into the heart of the plain. “It’s best you stay out of the trees this time, but we can’t have you on the plain midday. Cliffs until sunset, then out on the plain at dark. You should reach his house before midevening. Get his message and return. Ready?” Annin held out her hand. Nat hesitated.

  “Why can’t I go through the trees this time?”

  “Can’t answer that, Estos made me promise.” Her hand was still extended.

  “He’s going to answer it before I leave tomorrow. I’m done with not knowing. That’s the deal.” She took Annin’s hand and stepped out of the cliff’s entrance. The forest was on the verge of darkness. She looked up. The very top of the cliff was still covered in sunlight.

  “The climbing path is over to the left.” Annin sat on the same boulder Estos had occupied on Nat’s first map trip. She motioned her head to the left. “It’s pretty steep at the base but then it levels out. You’ll need to
search for the toeholds in this light.”

  Nat brushed her fingers over the rockface, searching for a hold until she found two indentations deep enough to ram her hands in. “This is no path.” She hoisted herself up the first set of rocks. They formed a tunnel, shielding her from the forest. Pulling herself out of the rock chute, she sat back on her heels at the top of the cliff. She’d scaled the face in no time.

  Cracks ran along the surface of the cliff. Her feet skimmed over the small crevices, and she jumped the wider gaps. At the very edge, the cliff crumbled away onto a plain. Scraggly shrubs poked out of the crags in the red rocks. How am I going to get down this without breaking something? she wondered. She eyed the loose rock and took off down the cliff face at an angle, switching back and forth until she reached the softer grasslands of the plain.

  The sky was almost completely dark. No moon, no stars. She closed her eyes, visualizing the map, and began to run. A few drops of rain fell on her face, and Nat wondered if it was Annin’s doing. The field was filled with tiny yellow flowers bright enough that she could see them even in the darkness. A single light came into view and illuminated a small dwelling. Nat circled the house, noting all windows and entrances. She tried the arched front door and found it opened easily into one small room containing a hearth, bed, table, cabinet, and chair.

  Thump. Nat hesitated near the door when she heard the sound. No one else was in the room. Thump. The sound was emanating from the massive cabinet occupying a corner of the cottage. She grabbed a stubby candle from the hearth and lit the wick from the crackling fire. She tried the worn latch securing the cabinet door, but it wouldn’t budge. The light from her candle fell on a tiny brass button above the latch. Thump. Nat swallowed and reminded herself this was only a dream. She pushed the button and heard a click, then shuffling. The cabinet door opened, and a hairy black form scrambled toward her. Nat hurried to the light of the hearth as a small, thin girl stood and pushed back a mop of tangled black hair. A much younger Annin stood before her. Nat stared at her face, mesmerized by her silvery faceted eye.

  The girl looked around the room. She grabbed a glass jar from the center of the lone table and placed it under the worn blanket on the bed. She jumped on the bed, and Nat heard the crunching of glass. She was out the door in the next instant.

  Nat followed her. “Wait! Annin, wait!” She chased her back down the plain and scrambled after her up the crumbling rock to the cliff top. The chase continued over the rocks and down the cliff wall. The girl was just a few steps ahead of her when Nat jumped onto the boulder where Annin sat. The girl’s form disappeared into Annin’s.

  “What was that? Where is she?” Nat circled the boulder. Annin hopped off and reached for Nat.

  “I told you he was a rat.” She grabbed Nat’s elbow. “Field trip’s over. Time to wake up.” Annin and the boulder faded into darkness. Nat stumbled in the pitch-black surroundings.

  “Ouch!”

  “Nat, what are you doing?” Viv’s sleepy head appeared under the bunk rail.

  Nat rubbed her temple and looked around her dorm room. “I hit my head, Viv. Go back to sleep.” She shivered, thinking of the dream and the little girl’s odd eye. She pulled her tangled covers to her chin, knowing tomorrow her journey to Benedict’s house would be real.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rain soaked through Nat’s cloak. It hung heavily over her shoulders as she ran across the plain dotted with yellow flowers. Her feet landed with certainty. The sensation still unnerved her, but she was thankful as she made her way through the darkness and the stinging rain. Icy drops fell from her hood into her eyes. She blinked and thought of the odd send-off she’d had before passing through the membrane.

  Everyone had had something to say. Estos had given her a small ruby ring and told her to show it to Benedict. He’d looked so thankful that she couldn’t bring herself to refuse to go, even after he’d deftly evaded her questions. Sisters Barba and Ethet had told her not to speak too much and to act aloof. Riler and Oberfisk had cautioned her to give the woods a wide berth. All Andris had offered was a scowl. The memory of his expression lingered in her mind as she ran through the rain.

  She slowed her pace and cut down a steep draw. A rutted clump sent her reeling to the side. Wet yellow flowers stuck to her chin and hands. The rain poured over her eyelids and down her cheeks. This has to be a dream, she thought. She opened her eyes. No, still dark and wet and somewhere that shouldn’t even exist. The ground squelched under her hands. Mud covered her fingers and the side of her cloak. A dim light appeared in the distance. She took a deep breath and moved on. Rat or not, she needed to make contact with Benedict.

  Nat cautiously approached the house. Water dripped from the pitched roof onto the uneven stone path encircling the house. Shivering, she rounded the back. No sign of anyone other than an old mule asleep in the tilting barn. “How about I just get this over with,” she mumbled to herself. She stepped onto the slippery rock path leading toward the weathered front door. Light shone under a thin crack where a stone slab met the base of the door. Her knock was light, almost inaudible. The door creaked open and light flooded around her. A slight man stood in the doorway, his mouth twisted into a frown. He stepped back, leaving the door wide open. Droplets of rain fell on the stoop. She hesitated. He hadn’t exactly invited her in.

  “Well, come in, then,” Benedict said, his words followed by a wheezy cough.

  Nat ducked under the low opening. Benedict leaned slightly to the left with each step toward the hearth. His right pant leg hung loosely over his calf. Sparks burst from a broken log when he poked it with a long hooked rod.

  “Close the door, Sister. It’s hard keeping the warmth in my bones.”

  Nat shut the door. Water dripped from her cloak, forming little puddles around her feet. She unhooked the garment and looked around for a place to hang it.

  “Over here.” Benedict pointed to a weathered bench near the hearth. “I don’t have much in the way of accommodations for you, Sister. Your kind rarely stops here. I haven’t seen a Sister in years what with all the, well, I don’t need to tell you, do I?”

  Nat nodded and laid her cloak on the bench, doing her best to spread it out in front of the fire. She glanced up and recognized the massive cabinet from her dream. She nervously stepped past the cabinet and perched on the narrow end of the bench.

  Benedict lifted a battered copper kettle from the edge of the hearth and hooked it to the curve of a long iron rod hanging over the fire. He limped over to a sagging rush chair next to Nat. She waited, watching him closely as he slowly lowered himself into the chair. She got a better view of his face as he settled in. His nose had an odd curve to it, and Nat wondered how long it had been broken. His hair was a deep chestnut color with a small bald spot in the back.

  “I haven’t seen that in a long time.” He leaned forward to get a closer view of her forearm. Nat quickly covered the design Barba had drawn.

  “Don’t be offended.” The water in the kettle began to hiss, and Benedict pushed himself out of his chair. “Can’t blame me for being curious. I haven’t seen a Sister from the Warrior House in years. And that”—he gestured to her arm with an empty mug—“I can’t say I’ve ever seen that on a living Sister.” He poured the steaming water into two mugs and moved slowly back to his chair. He handed her one. “Mudug got rid of your Houses and sent you north. Ha! Wouldn’t he be interested to find one wandering on the Meldon Plain.” He eyed her with curiosity.

  Nat had to force herself to sit still and not bolt out the front door. She placed the mug on the floor and pulled the small ruby ring from an inner pocket after touching the hilt of her dagger. She remembered Barba’s words to her before she left: “Treat him the way a general would treat a lowly soldier. He is nothing to a Warrior Sister.”

  “You have something for me,” she said, her voice artificially low and cold as she held the ring between her thumb and f
orefinger. The red stone glowed in the firelight.

  Benedict gasped. “Where did you get that?” He reached for the ring.

  “You received a question in the last two weeks. Do you have an answer for me?” His thin fingers hung in the air as she tucked the ring back in her pocket.

  “He’s well?” Benedict watched her for a moment.

  “I’m waiting.” She leaned back as he scowled. She kept her face emotionless as she met his unhappy look.

  “It’s been a year since I’ve heard anything, and then Sister Barba’s indecipherable handwriting makes its way into my tree. Wanting to know . . .” He stood again, limped to the hearth, and began jabbing the logs with short thrusts of the poker. Sparks flew in all directions. “I assumed it was a hoax. Some plan Mudug or the Chemist conjured up to catch me.” Benedict said the name “Chemist” with vehemence. He poked the logs again and continued, “The answer is they’re all marked. Tell the Sister they are all marked. Estos, Sister Barba, Andris, the lot of them, even that little half-breed. Mudug sits like a spider in Rustbrook, waiting for that Chemist of his to tell him when one of them pops up and shakes the web. He has men stationed throughout the lower valley who can be sent out as soon as the Chemist gives the word. I don’t know where Estos is.” His eyes narrowed. “And I don’t want to know. He needs to stay away. Mudug intends to slaughter him—all of them—before next year. Don’t doubt it.”

  Nat stared at Benedict, struggling to keep a calm demeanor. Estos hadn’t exaggerated the danger Mudug posed to him. Her stomach flipped with nerves. “How does this Chemist know where they are?” Her voice trembled.

  “I don’t know how he did it, but I think he’s got bits of each of them, and he’s using a modified orb, possibly a calan orb, to signal when they appear in Fourline and where they are.” Benedict made a little circle in the air. Nat listened to every word, but none of it made sense to her.

  “Not knowing if the note was real or not, I only worked out two ways to counteract the orbs. Why waste the effort unless one must?” he said apologetically as he put down the poker and opened his palms like a book. He jabbed one palm with an index finger. “If he’s using a calan orb, which I suspect he is, then we can erase its memory with suix stone. Or we can simply destroy the orbs. The suix stone is the better option, because he won’t know they aren’t working until someone slips up and gets spotted, and by then it will be too late.” Benedict rubbed his hands together. “Oh, that would twist him up like he’d eaten a rotten sausage,” he said gleefully as he turned back to the fire.