by Todd, E. L.
“Christmas is over,” said Breccan, who stared at the tree reproachfully. “It’s time to throw the tree on the curb. Let the garbage trucks haul it to the chipper.
Easton glared at him, appalled at his violent suggestion. “It’s still winter time.”
“So?” he said. “By that reasoning, the tree would be here until March.”
“I like having it here,” said Calloway, who stared at the decorated branches and the star sitting on top. In truth, he was indifferent to the tree’s existence but he wanted to annoy Breccan as much as possible. He wanted retribution for his insistent comments, and he knew agreeing with Easton was the best way to get it.
Breccan stared at both of them, shocked they could think such a thing. “You guys are weird.”
“You’re just mad there are no candy canes on it,” Easton snapped. Being called weird was the most offensive thing you could say to her and her eyes brightened in anger, hating the label. “Nothing is edible.”
Breccan rolled his eyes. “I’m never going to get rid of this reputation, am I?”
“Nope,” Easton and Calloway said together.
They stepped away from the tree and looked around the room, studying the dimensions of the library and the old paintings of depicted gardens mounted on the end of bookshelves. The library was full of bookcases and various tables, but the walls had no ornamentation and looked extremely bare. There was dirt ingrained into the surface of the wood and the carpet was saturated with ancient grime, leaving the air scented with the smell of must. It tickled Calloway’s nose—he wanted to sneeze.
“The portal must be behind the bookcases,” Calloway said. He stepped away from the table and approached the end of the study area. “The Hara-Kirs seem to appear from back there. That’s the only explanation I can think of.”
Easton nodded. “That sounds right.”
Breccan pulled out his knife as they walked toward the rear of the library.
“That isn’t necessary,” Calloway said when he spotted it. “We’ll hear it before we see it.”
Breccan was hesitant, uncomfortable by the prospect of searching for the portal unarmed, but then reinserted his blade after a moment, realizing his friends weren’t afraid of the danger so he shouldn’t be either.
They walked down the aisle of bookcases and entered the back of the library. There were three identical walls, constructed of indecipherable engraved images in the dark wood, and they connected together. Calloway stared at the drawn images in confusion. He didn’t recognize the picture.
When Easton placed her hands against the wall, she pushed the solid barrier with all her strength but nothing happened. Calloway wasn’t sure what she was trying to do. When she applied force again, she fell backwards onto the floor, landing on her shoulder. Calloway grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She rubbed her shoulder for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “I’m okay.”
Breccan slid his hand across the wall then looked at the dirt under his fingers. “Gross.”
Easton glared at him, annoyed the Breccan wasn’t concerned for her at all.
Calloway stared at the wall for a moment but didn’t touch anything. There was nothing indicative about the three surfaces—they looked identical. “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Easton walked to the other wall and pressed her hand against it, feeling it under her fingertips. “I don’t even understand what we’re looking for,” she said. “I would assume that a wall would be a portal. What else could it be?”
Calloway placed his hand next to hers, but he, too, felt nothing. The surface was hard and solid; it wouldn’t move. “There must be a chapter about portals in the Kirin Book,” he said. “We might locate one after we read it.”
Easton shook her head. “I doubt it.” She dropped her hand from the wall. “They wouldn’t detail the positions of the portals—that would be stupid.”
“Your father didn’t tell you?” Breccan asked irritably. “Perhaps it’s in the trunk but you missed it.”
Calloway shook his head. “I read everything inside—it didn’t mention a portal.”
“We could just wait,” Breccan said.
“Wait for what?” Easton asked.
“For a Hara-Kir to appear,” he said. “Then we’ll know where it came from.”
“That’s dangerous,” Calloway said. “What if there are several?”
“And we haven’t seen one in a while,” Easton said. “They may have abandoned this portal because of our existence.”
“But how would they know that?” Calloway asked. “We killed them all.”
“You didn’t kill the two that followed you the night you stole the Kirin Book,” Easton said. “They may have told the others about your presence in the library.”
“Maybe,” Calloway said. “But I think that would encourage them to use it. They are looking for me, after all.”
Suddenly, Breccan sprinted towards the third wall and collided against the surface with a heavy thud. His body was pushed back and he fell to the floor, lifeless for several seconds before he rose to his feet. Calloway stared at him for a moment, amused by the amateur attempt.
“What the hell are you doing?” Easton snapped. “You could hurt yourself.”
“Too late,” Breccan groaned. He rubbed his arm then examined his leg for bruises. The lines around his mouth were tight in a grimace. Calloway cringed at the sight. It looked painful.
“You are so stupid,” she said.
“For the first time I’m going to agree with you.” He moaned. He leaned against the wall and caught his breath. “I thought you needed a running start to pass through.”
“Why did you think that?” Calloway asked.
Breccan shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “It sounded like a good idea.”
Easton rolled her eyes. “You’re the definition of stupidity.”
“Hey,” he snapped. “I tried, okay?”
“Stop,” Calloway said. He knew an infamous argument was approaching. “You guys can fight later.”
Easton sighed. “Well, the portal must be located in plain sight,” she said. “It must be hidden so someone won’t accidently pass through, but it needs to be easily identifiable to the seekers.”
Calloway nodded. “I agree.” He looked around the room and didn’t see anything identifiable. Every wall looked dull and solid, nothing that resembled a portal at all. “But I still don’t see anything.”
Breccan rubbed his arm, still massaging the pain from his limbs. “Maybe you need the portal key.”
“It’s in my pocket,” he said.
“But maybe you need to put it in the wall or something,” Breccan said.
“There’s nowhere to put it,” Easton snapped. She banged her first against the wall and the sound echoed in the room. “The wall is solid.”
“Just try it,” Breccan snapped.
Calloway pulled out the orb and held it against the wall—nothing happened. The glass was dull and lightless, blending with the shadows that stretched across the surface. He felt odd holding the glass orb against the wood—it clearly didn’t go there.
“Try the other wall,” Easton said.
Calloway placed the orb against the wood, but, just like before, nothing happened.
“How about the one I ran into?” Breccan said.
When Calloway pressed the orb against the surface there was no change. The wall was just as lifeless and dull as it had been a moment before and Calloway knew this wasn’t right—it certainly didn’t feel like it. He dropped his hand. “I feel stupid for doing this.”
“You should feel stupid for dating Beatrice,” Breccan snapped.
“Not now,” Calloway snapped. “Save your comments for later.” He knew dating Beatrice would be an issue with his friends, but he didn’t realize how insistent their comments would be. The possibility of them hanging out together, with Beatrice, was never going to happen—they hated her. “I
don’t know what to do.” He played with the orb in his fingers and squeezed the surface, making it shine brilliantly in the dim library. The glowing light was a comfort to him when he couldn’t sleep at night. He used to caress it as a child until he finally fell into his dreams, assuaged by the sight of the burning light keeping away his nightmares and fears.
There was an almost inaudible hum, lightly ringing in his ears, and Calloway stiffened at the sound, aware of the unusual noise. He turned to his two friends. “Do you hear that?”
Easton’s eyes were wide. “Yes.”
Breccan nodded but didn’t speak.
Calloway extinguished the orb and the sound disappeared.
Easton looked at him. “Turn it back on.”
Calloway squeezed the orb and the sound continued, humming just as it did a moment before, and he concentrated on the sound, trying to decipher its meaning. He stepped closer to his friends, and together, they gazed at the walls—they still appeared lifeless. The humming grew louder as Calloway moved to the opposite wall and it blared in his ears. The sound of his beating heart was mute in comparison to the noise, which took over every thought and sense. When the hum was clear and audible, louder than anywhere else, he stopped and stared at the wall. He didn’t touch the surface because he didn’t need to—he knew it was the portal entrance.
Revelations
Aunt Grace and Uncle Scott were both working that morning, so Easton drove them to school in her classic car, which received gawking stares from passing drivers for the entire ride. Easton smiled happily as she watched them appraise her vintage vehicle. The powerful engine roared as they drove to the campus, and Calloway felt sleepy in the backseat despite the loud noise. The heater was thawing his extremities, leaving him lethargic and comfortable, and he felt relaxed as he leaned against the leather seat. The music was playing on the radio, an indie rock song, and it subdued his mind.
They had discovered the entrance to one of the portals and he couldn’t understand— fathom— the achievement. It had been there, hidden in plain sight the entire time, and they never recognized it—they didn’t have a clue. Now they understood why the Hara-Kirs were drawn to the location. Calloway felt stupid for not realizing it before—it was obvious.
His father purchased the Grandiose Historian Library then marked it as abandoned to keep the humans safe—Calloway was certain. If innocent bystanders were reading in the library they would be killed, slaughtered before they realized they were attacked, and their essence would be taken, used to fuel the end of their world as well as the Anti-Life. Calloway was proud of his father, and he hoped he would be as courageous when he entered the portal, crossing over to the plane of the unknown. Even with his friends beside him, he was still frightened of traveling to the other side. He didn’t know what to expect. What was this other world like? What if he didn’t come back? His family would mourn for him until their deaths, wishing they knew what happened to their adopted son. Beatrice would be absent from his life, finding love in someone else. Weston would never know about his true feelings, that he thought the world of her. When his thoughts turned to Weston, he shut off the feelings, knowing they were completely inappropriate—he was with Beatrice now. To think of someone else in that light was morally wrong and deceitful.
Beatrice was beautiful and perfect, like a summer flower that defied the thaw of winter, and she continued to outshine everyone in her vicinity. She was shy, but forward at the same time, and Calloway admired her confidence. If she hadn’t initiated their first kiss it never would have happened—Calloway was too scared. His initial impression of her was correct—she just made a wrong decision, one that caused her anguish and sadness, but she changed her ways and made the right choice eventually. Now that she wasn’t with Hawk, she seemed happy and carefree. Calloway felt himself smile when he thought of her; he was the source of her happiness. It was obvious that she felt safe with him. He wondered if the New Year’s Eve party made her realize that Calloway could protect her—he almost broke Hawk’s nose.
Calloway had never acted so violently in his life, or lost his temper in such a profound way, but seeing him push Weston sent him to a dark place—unexplored territory. The moment was so heated and intense that Calloway couldn’t remember his thought process. All he knew was that he was mad—furious. There was no doubt that Weston could protect herself and injure Hawk badly, but that was beside the point—no one should ever push her. Calloway wouldn’t tolerate anyone harming her—ever. Calloway felt the anger return when he remembered the sight—he was livid. He would rather die than let someone hurt Weston—die a thousand times. Calloway sighed when he realized the progression of the thoughts and he ended them. He knew If Hawk pushed Beatrice he would react in the same way.
“You aren’t going to see Beatrice today, right?” Breccan asked. He turned around in his seat and looked at his cousin. “We have to decode the Kirin Book so we can use the portal.”
Calloway sighed. “I already said I would see her.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Easton snapped. “You shouldn’t have said yes to begin with. You have other responsibilities, Calloway.”
“I can’t help translate the book anyway,” he said. “I just sit there.”
“But what if another Hara-Kir attacks us and you aren’t there, Calloway? You are the strongest one. We need you.”
Calloway ran his hands through his hair. He was being torn in different directions and he felt his body sever apart. If he wasn’t at school or working in the Headquarters, he was working, and if he wasn’t doing one of those things, he was sleeping. Calloway never had time to do what he wished, not even see Beatrice. “Stay in the car until I arrive. Then we’ll go inside together.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Breccan said. “What about that saying? Bros before—”
“I can’t believe you’re choosing her over your friends, Calloway,” Easton said. “I am seriously disappointed in you.”
“It’s not like that,” Calloway snapped. “I’m just going to get lunch with her—that’s it. You seriously can’t survive without me for an hour? You’re the one being unreasonable, Easton.”
Easton shook her head but didn’t speak. When they arrived at school a few moments later, she parked the car in her usual spot then walked toward the building without speaking to Calloway. Breccan followed behind her, and Calloway watched them go with a saddened expression. Calloway progressed to the campus and saw Beatrice standing on the sidewalk but she didn’t smile when she saw Calloway.
“Hey,” he said. Easton disappeared into the classroom building without a backward glance, and Calloway knew how angry she was just by watching her. He turned back to Beatrice.
Beatrice stared at him for a moment. “Hi,” she said dully. She turned her gaze to the students walking by and avoided his look. It was like she was feigning boredom, wishing she were with better company
Calloway knew something was bothering her. She wasn’t smiling like she usually was and her frame was tense. It reminded him of Easton. When she was angry she became quiet until she couldn’t bottle her anger further. Then her ferocity spilled forth with hateful words and insults. Beatrice was acting the same way; the calm before the storm. If he wasn’t friends with Easton he would have no understanding of women at all. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. The frown on her face said otherwise.
Calloway kissed her on the cheek but she was unresponsive to the touch. There was no smile on her lips or twinkle in her eye, and she didn’t return his gesture in any way, staring at him blankly. Since she already stated that she wasn’t mad, he decided not question her further and annoy her with his excessive inquiries. If she said she wasn’t upset, she must not be. Why would she lie? He turned to the front door and Beatrice walked beside him.
Beatrice held her binder to her chest tightly. “Does she always take you to school?” she asked. Her voice was full of accusation and anger, and Calloway flinched at t
he venom in her voice. He never heard her speak that way; she was always so sweet.
After Calloway recovered from her heated words and thought of a response to her question—he didn’t know what she talking about. “What?”
“Does Easton always drive you around?”
“Um,” Calloway stumbled. “No. My aunt was working this morning. Why?”
Beatrice shrugged. “You spend a lot of time with her, that’s all.” She didn’t look at Calloway while she walked, staring at the ground below her feet. Calloway was feeling more confused by the minute.
“I suppose,” he said. “She’s my friend.”
“Friends like us?” she asked.
Now he wasn’t sure what they were discussing—at all. Obviously they were friends. “I don’t know,” he said honestly.
Her eyes widened in anger, spitting fire like an erupted volcano. She unleashed the flames on Calloway, conveying her unbridled ferocity in her gaze alone.
Calloway knew he said the wrong thing. “No,” he said quickly.
She stared at him for a moment then continued to walk down the hallway. Calloway decided to remain quiet so he wouldn’t make the situation worse. Somehow he kept saying the wrong thing, over and over.
“You have an unusual friendship with her,” she said simply.
Calloway didn’t know how to respond. Was that a question? His understanding of women was dwindling with every passing second. Aunt Grace never made evasive comments or asked vague questions. “I guess,” he said.
“Do you like her?” she asked.
Calloway pretended that he hadn’t heard her question, knowing any response he made would be catastrophic. “I am excited to spend time with you after school,” he said quickly. “What should we do?”
Beatrice seemed to calm down after his question. “I don’t care.” She smiled. “We could eat.”