Aware

by Andy Havens

  “Flux,” Vannia barked. “Let’s find the Warden.”

  Annie looked up. Indeed, tears stained her cheeks.

  “What?” she said, seeming confused for a moment. Then she took a quick breath and rose, saying, “Yes. First, the Warden. We need to get to Ezer. Losing two Houses in one day. I can’t…”

  “Pull it together, both of you,” Vannia said. She reached down to the blood-slick floor and chose several weapons which she tucked in and around her person.

  “Last I saw, he was heading to bed. I have a vague idea where they put him up. But we’ll need to move fast, I think.”

  Somewhat relieved by the mere fact of anyone else taking charge, McKey nodded. She and Annie followed Vannia out of the gymnasium and into a long, narrow corridor.

  “You’re alone?” McKey asked Vannia as they walked quickly in the direction of the guest suites.

  “Yes,” the grim little girl answered.

  “The others? The Sae that remained loyal?”

  “Sa Martin and the others with me when the melee started are all dead.”

  McKey had never heard the girl’s voice so cold and sharp.

  “What about the traitors?”

  Vannia turned to look at her as they walked and the chill in her eyes nearly made McKey stumble.

  “The ones who were with me are all dead.”

  They took a right at the next juncture and Vannia added, “The ones who weren’t? When I have time… if we have time. They will wish for an end as quick as their fellow traitors.”

  As they walked, McKey kept probing the place inside her that had taken the blow when Monday died. The knowledge that he was gone. The empty space in the world that her friend, mentor and Lord had occupied. Every time her mind lighted on that spot, she shied away, knowing it was only getting worse. The wound was still growing. The pain wasn’t yet anywhere near what it would be when—if—the current crisis was averted.

  What is the world without Solomon Monday? she asked herself. Is there a world without him?

  She did not know. And the not knowing terrified her.

  * * * * *

  When the second key was turned and the Gate opened, Kendra felt it like the completion of a chord progression.

  Ahhhh…. Yes. That’s exactly what it’s supposed to do.

  She opened her eyes and looked down just in time to see the huge, silver half-circle dissolve into mist… and then disappear entirely.

  Her first thought was that maybe the Gate had been opened as part of their own mission. The gathering of five Houses to figure out what was going on with Blood and Earth.

  But that doesn’t make sense. We’re all here already. We’re not at each other’s throats or anything.

  Then she thought that maybe it was being activated in order to keep something out.

  It’s opened on the inside, but that means it’s shut to the outside. It could be used as a defense. A Way to keep out intruders. I wonder if that’s it?

  Regardless, the thrill of the opening was still singing in her mind and she wanted to get a close look at what the patterns were like on the other side. She rose from her seat and headed down the steps, still staring at the open space where the Gate had hung only moments before.

  She couldn’t quite see all the way across to the other side of the dome, even though the Gate was open. It looked identical to her side, she thought, though without the hanging lights above. Which she now noticed were now almost entirely dim. Instead of bright torches, they seemed like candle stubs, flickering and low.

  About halfway down, she noticed the bodies on the floor.

  Picking up her pace, she was now convinced that, yes, the Gate had been opened as the result of an attack of some kind.

  Stepping down off the risers, she saw the bodies of the dead Sae up close. After swallowing a shudder of disgust and fear, she wondered where their killers had gone. Aside from her, the Hall of the Gate was empty.

  What the heck should I do now?

  “The sound when it opens. It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?”

  She turned and saw Niles Fayton behind her.

  “Uh. Yes?”

  Has he seen the dead bodies? He sounds very calm.

  “You can feel the completion of the Way. How it accomplishes its purpose so perfectly in that one moment. It’s one of the most beautiful creations of the Domains, I think.”

  I wonder if he’s in shock, Kendra thought. Maybe whoever did this knocked him around a bit.

  “Are you OK Mr. Fayton?” she asked. “Something bad has happened, I think.” She glanced unsubtly at the bodies on the floor.

  “The guards? Yes. Bad. A waste, certainly. But a necessary waste.”

  “Necessary…”

  “Tools break,” he said simply. “Especially brittle ones.”

  I have no idea what he means, but it’s kind of creeping me out.

  “I’m confused.”

  She realized that she was actually calmer than she should have been. Something really was wrong. Very wrong. There were dead bodies at her feet. But the completion of the Sanctuary Way had somehow filled her with a sort of Zen-like peace. As if she’d been meditating for hours and only now opened her eyes. While she could tell that the Ways of the Seven Domains were almost entirely dampened around her, the pulsing of the Gate provided a kind of steadying influence. The eight-count cadence like a metronome or ticking clock in the next room.

  I wonder if that’s part of the Way, too, she thought. Since this is supposed to be a place where peace is negotiated. Does the open Gate make everyone in the Cathedral less nervous and jumpy?

  Fayton was standing directly over the body of one of the dead Sae, hands clasped behind him.

  “Of course you’re confused,” he said to her, though he was still facing away, toward the far, darker end of the hall.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Just that,” he said. “Why would you be anything but confused? A few months ago you were a young chronic on heavy-duty medication for acute schizophrenia. Now you are here, almost entirely by chance. I’d be surprised if you weren’t confused.”

  “I guess so,” she said, somewhat peeved by his attitude.

  In the distance, beyond the far end of the hall, she heard a sound like distant thunder.

  Seemingly intrigued by the patterns of the Gate itself, Fayton stepped forward a few paces and stood directly between the two halves of the great semicircle. He ran a palm along the tiles, tracing one of their patterns, and said, “If Rain’s garden and the Library hadn’t somehow wakened you to the Ways, you’d probably be at home right now, or out buying school supplies.”

  “Probably,” she agreed. “But I think Dr. Lyonne’s cards had something to do with it, too.”

  He turned to look at her, confused himself now, and maybe a bit cross.

  “What cards? What cards did Lyonne show you?”

  “The ones that looked a bit like a Rorschach Test,” she answered. “Like inkblots or random splotches. But the negative space made odd pictures if you turned your head just so.”

  She thought of the odd cards. About the patterns that accentuated what wasn’t there more than what was. About how the “lack of something” could “be something” in and of itself. About how Dr. Lyonne had seemed really interested in her reactions to them. About how they’d scared her.

  Fayton stood there, leaning against the Gate, and something in him became very still, very quiet and very, very angry. Though he didn’t move or scowl or anything, Kendra could sense the fury building up inside him as if it were a Way of its own. The strength of it seemed to reflect off the patterns of the Sanctuary Way and pick up something of his own essence. She sensed a harmony there similar to the tone when the Gate had opened. She could almost see the tiled patterns through him, rigid and fixed in place, yet framing a space in which power and possibility were born.

  In that moment, she had another epiphany—just as she had finally understood that the eighth beat of the
Gate’s Way was the absence of any Ways of the Domains, she now realized something equally startling:

  He is not of the Seven.

  That realization brought with it a cold, instant gust of wind at her back. She felt compelled to step forward and into his bright blue, angry eyes. He seemed frozen in front of her, waiting for her to do something. Waiting for her to act.

  Whatever she did, he would react. He would do something that countered her move or her words.

  As long as I don’t say anything, as long as I’m perfectly still, I’ll be safe, she thought.

  But that’s not true, either, she realized. Because doing nothing is a choice, too.

  He smiled a little then, and she realized something else about him. His everyday demeanor. His carefully configured blandness. It’s also part of his essence. It allows other people to paint what they want to see onto his neutrality. He can react. He can counter. He can be the spaces between others’ actions.

  Then, perhaps most terrifyingly of all, she realized: He’s like me…

  Still leaning against the Gate, Fayton nodded, sensing the realization as it swept over her.

  “Your mother was a broken, brittle tool,” he said. “There was a chance—a small one—that you would not be so fragile. Your father’s strength was part of that calculation. Now? We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  The thunder grew louder, and Kendra realized she was hearing, at some distance, the sound of marching feet and voices raised in a chant.

  She looked at him and saw that there was something very powerful and centered there. A kind of calm assurance. Maybe even a balance that Reckoners from the other Houses were missing.

  The spaces between are the same, she realized. Seven different notes, but one singular, universal rest.

  Wait and see, she thought. That’s part of the power here. Not like Sight. Not the desire to learn and know. Not like Flux, either. Not the power of “the turn.” No… This is the space between the Ways.

  “You’re… From Beyond,” she whispered, finally seeing the connection.

  “Not exactly,” he said smiling. “But it’s a keen observation nonetheless. You are not a dumb child. Which speaks well for your prospects.”

  With a roar, the stamping feet and chanting voices seemed to turn a corner and echo through the arch on the far side of the Hall of the Gate.

  “Soon the hordes will be upon us, and you will need to make a decision,” he said matter-of-factly.

  He’s so damned calm, she thought. It can’t just be the Way of the Gate, can it? That peaceable feeling I was wondering about?

  Then another piece of the puzzle snapped into place. It’s not about peace, she realized. It’s about pause.

  Just like the negative space on the cards. The sky through the branches of the topiary. The silence built into the tempo of the Gate. The border between the Narrow Roads and the Mundane paths on which they were built.

  And the blurring of the Ways that I was working on at Bardonne’s? That happens in the empty spaces, too, doesn’t it? Am I like him? Is this where I belong?

  The army of Blood and Earth burst through the far archway with a roar and she turned to see Fayton smiling quietly at her.

  So cold. So empty. So very, very peaceful and…

  … compelling.

  Then she felt, along with every Reckoner in the Cathedral, the death of Sa Martin.

  Kendra almost fell to her knees the shock was so strong. Nausea gripped her guts and she thought she might actually vomit. The Sanctuary knew its master and felt his death in all its stones and halls and the entire edifice seemed to shudder as if in the grip of a kind of spiritual earthquake.

  The wave of Blood soldiers and Earth Masters faltered a bit, tripping and stumbling a little in their rush toward the Gate. They slowed but did not stop, resuming their advance with a more measured, marching stride.

  Fayton only trembled a little. A shudder like when a chill goes up your spine. But, unlike her, he seemed…

  pleased?

  He continued to wait for her to react. His silence and stillness both alarming and attractive.

  I can do whatever I want. Of course I can. He’s not judging me or forcing me. He’s just waiting.

  The first wave of Blood soldiers and Earth Masters slowed a bit, seeing them standing there in the center of the huge, circular room. But they didn’t stop. They came on.

  He finally stepped back and a bit away from the Gate. He held out a hand and said, “You need to choose, Kendra. You can join me, or face them.”

  Someone finally wants me, she thought. None of the Houses ever said so.

  Time seemed to slow for her then. She turned to look at the oncoming mass of fighters and was able to make out individual Blood warriors, their skin dark with pulsing lines. Reckoners in the shape of fit, naked men and women, brandishing spears and swords and arcane charms. Among them were things of Earth with horns and claws, some the size of horses and bears. Some with wings and long, spiked tails. All howling now, the chant having dissolved into individual shrieks and screams. Ready to rend, to tear, to destroy, to kill.

  Ready for war.

  That’s one choice, she thought, wondering how long it would take them to stomp her into paste.

  Then there was Fayton, holding out his hand. The emptiness between Ways now apparent in his stance, his eyes, his strength.

  That’s another choice.

  One she found strangely attractive.

  But she knew that in both cases, her friends would die. No matter how wise Monday was, how skilled Vannia, how strong and well-armed Ezer. No matter how many of the Sae still remained to fight…

  The army of Blood and Earth will sweep them up, she realized. And they won’t even be able to escape. Because the Gate is open, the Sanctuary sealed.

  Barely discernable above the growing din, Fayton said simply, “Choose. The invitation will not be repeated.”

  Parrot Girl. McKey. Ezer. Wallace. That blue-haired lady. I don’t even remember her name. All the other Sae… I wonder, when they die, if I’ll hear the notes being struck. Like with Sa Martin.

  Probably. Fainter, maybe.

  But I’m pretty sure I’ll still feel them die.

  Kendra took two steps forward, standing now directly between the two halves of the Gate. The runes on the far side were the mirror-image of those she’d already studied, which was as she’d expected.

  The soldiers of Blood and Earth had nearly crossed the Hall of the Gate. Their eyes reflecting the light from the hanging lanterns, bright with rage and anticipation.

  She turned back and looked at Fayton. He was still smiling slightly, holding a hand out for her to take.

  Kendra looked to her right at the army streaming toward her through the hall. Then she looked down at the winding patterns of the Way beneath her feet. Finally, she looked back up into Fayton’s smug smirk on her left.

  “I choose neither,” she said. Then she knelt on the floor, pressing one hand down on either side of the Sanctuary Way.

  She un-knitted the eighth part of the pattern—the silence—out of the other seven. It was easy. It just made sense to her. Like how a bow-knot can be undone with a simple pull on one of the bunny ears.

  Kendra had the distinct pleasure of seeing Fayton’s look of surprise and rage just before the Way of the Gate slammed closed on her.

  Chapter X: Visions

  “Perhaps one of the four had second thoughts,” Ezer ventured.

  They shouldn’t have worried about him at all, Vannia realized. He’d managed to surround himself with Sae of Increase even before the attack. All of them armed with weapons forbidden to the Order of the Gate but secreted, somehow, around the Cathedral.

  “That can be the only explanation,” Fayton agreed. “The death of any of the four who unlocked the Gate wouldn’t close it.”

  “True,” said Sa Neyya, the new leader of the radically reduced Order of the Gate. “And if all four died, it would remain closed until representa
tives from all seven Houses met outside to unlock it.”

  “A kind of failsafe,” Wallace piped in. “Like a dead-man’s switch of sorts.”

  They all nodded. McKey wasn’t there. She was resting and recovering from her wounds and shock. But the other members of the group had all gathered back on the terrace. McKey’s absence, and Monday’s, was why Wallace had been asked to join the conference.

  It had been a frightening, hectic and dangerous three days since the Gate had suddenly opened and then just as abruptly shut with an army of Blood and Earth about to swarm through into the Zambar.

  That army was now camped in the hills surrounding the western half of the Cathedral. It had been eight hours since the last frenzied attack, which had allowed the group to finally get some decent sleep.

  As for that attack, they’d handled it the same way they’d countered the first, largest assault: they simply opened the Gate. While it shut the Sae and their guests inside, it also presented an impregnable barrier to the attacking warriors. Blood and Earth had tried a few feints and some sneak attacks. But by using the Warden’s modern communications technology, all they had to do was issue a quick command and two matched pairs of the Sae on either side of the Gate would turn the keys. They’d wait a couple hours, open the Gate for a moment and, if there was still a threat, shut it again immediately.

  This plan only worked because they’d won the Battle at the Gate—an epic struggle as the remaining Sae cleansed the Cathedral of Blood and Earth warriors. Two Sae, one of Release and one of Chaos, had snuck into the still occupied eastern half of the Sanctuary, the Ibrahim, and had triggered the Gate, opening it so that a carefully planned attack could knock the invaders back on their heels. It had also trapped most of the occupying forces outside the Sanctuary, the maneuver timed precisely with a feint on the outside.

  After that initial clash, the defenders could control the Gate whenever they liked, using it like a kind of impassable moat. Not the original intention of the Sanctuary. But, then again, the Gate had never been opened by subterfuge to allow an invading army inside.

  Vannia had worked with the Sae of Increase to round up all the Earth and Blood members of the Order remaining in the western half of the Sanctuary. They’d lost many on both sides in the first moments of frenzied fighting. But after those from the other five Houses realized what was going on, most of the casualties were among the traitors. And while it seemed as if all the Blood Sa had turned traitor, several dozen of those from Earth continued to declare their innocence.