And just like last time, it’s my desire to yell at Soren that convinces me to finally shift back into a human.
The conversation is interrupted for a few tense moments while I fight my way back to my human form. And yes, it’s definitely a fight. Particularly since I’m trying so hard to make sure my clothes shift properly back with me this time, as I have a feeling that ‘Naked on a Mountaintop in the Middle of a Doomsday Conversation’ is a way worse nightmare than the classic ‘Naked and Giving a Speech to Your Class’ adventure.
By the time I finish, I barely have the energy to stand. But I manage to turn my irritated gaze in Soren’s direction and to repeat Casandra’s question to him.
“I told you when we first met: I’d been researching stuff about those keys for years. And that was the truth. Elle, I—”
“Research would only have gotten you so far,” Casandra interrupts. “You would have had to perform a powerful spell in order to break down the long-standing barrier to the Bridge of Worlds. The sort of spell that you wouldn’t have found in any book.”
“But Liam and I were able to get to this world without anything except our own research,” Carys points out.
“Because the wall weakened once they made the initial opening,” Elric says quietly. “Another part of the queen’s plan, we’re pretty sure. Which is why she must have somehow planted the spell’s information in Soren’s head.”
“Planted?” Carys repeats, sounding equal parts horrified and curious. “How?”
“She could have someone working for her on the other side. Or perhaps it was her own magic, manifesting in the form of visions or dreams or something similar?” She gives Soren an expectant look.
We all give him an expectant look, until finally he says, “I… There were dreams when I was younger, I guess. I might have written some of my notes based on the things I heard in them.”
I frown. “You never told me about that.”
“It’s not like we’ve had much of a chance to sit and discuss our dreams with each other,” he says drily.
“You’re right,” I fire back. “That’s date stuff, isn’t it? And we both know how our first date turned out.”
“So you’re saying they were lured here?” Carys says, loudly redirecting the conversation.
“So it would seem,” Elric says.
“But why them?”
“To get an entire army across another dimension will be no small feat. And the path into Canath is open and more easy to manipulate now, but the one that leads back to Earth is still much more formidable. And likely impossible to pass through—at least for now.”
“See,” I mutter to Soren, “You couldn’t have gotten rid of me that easily anyway.”
“It was worth a try,” he murmurs back.
“On the contrary,” Casandra says, her eyes flashing to me, “If anyone could get back, it would be you, Eleanor. It would be dangerous, of course; one wrong step, and it would be like an explosion blasting a hole through a mountainside, widening the path for an army’s worth of traffic to funnel through after you. But you could do it—and that is why the queen wanted you here. As for why she decided to use Soren in particular to withdraw your key and help accomplish that…well, it’s anybody’s guess. It could be mere coincidence, for all we know.”
“I don’t believe in mere coincidence myself,” Elric pipes in, which for some reason makes Casandra sigh impatiently again.
“So how exactly am I still capable of creating this ‘explosion’ that could break the barrier between worlds? The key to Canath was extracted, and I felt stable for a grand total of about five minutes when I first came into this world. And now…” I fall quiet, because I’m getting dangerously close to sounding whiney, and I know it.
I’m probably imagining it, but I think I see something like pity flash in Casandra’s sky-blue eyes before she says: “Hold out your hand.”
I do, slowly, and I turn it so that the symbol of Earth is plainly visible on my wrist. It’s faint, but thanks to my shift it’s definitely there, and I’m sure that’s what she wants to see. I’m also sure I don’t want to hear what she’s about to tell me.
I force myself to keep listening anyway.
“Worldkeeper,” she says after taking a deep breath.
“Are you ever going to tell me what that stupid word means?”
She nods. “You were a guardian of one of the curatorian keys that unlocked the path to the Bridge of Worlds—from Earth’s side.” As she speaks, her eyes close and her fingertips hover just above my Earth mark, which burns and glows brighter and brighter as the seconds pass. “You also hold what is believed to be one of the only remaining keys to Earth.”
Before I can utter a single syllable of protest over this, my arm catches fire.
Soren gasps.
Carys gives a terrified cry.
I stumble away from them as blue and white flames dance up from the lines of the mark, flickering wildly for a moment before sinking down and coiling around the length of my arm like a strange piece of statement jewelry.
The flames aren’t hot. They’re mind-numbingly cold and heavy as they wrap tighter, squeezing until they disappear into my skin.
As they’re absorbed into that skin, they force something else out: a small silver stick, tipped with a circular emblem that’s evenly dissected by one horizontal and one vertical line. I take one look at it floating in the space before me. At the blood oozing out of the skin it broke through.
And then I hit my knees, and I’m unconscious before I crumple all the way to the ground.
Chapter Nine
I wake up because I sense someone staring at me.
But I don’t open my eyes.
There’s a strange ringing in my ears. I feel stable—neither the ground nor my bones shifting in ways they shouldn’t—but I also feel like maybe I just got hit by a truck, so I decide I’m going to pretend to sleep for a little bit longer.
“All I’m saying is you could have gone easier on her.” It’s Soren’s voice.
A flat reply from Casandra follows a moment later: “If I’d told her what I was going to do, she would have resisted, and it would have been worse for her.”
Apparently the two of them are bonding over their common interest of ripping world keys out of my body.
How sweet.
I feel a little bad for eavesdropping, but I feel worse about waking up. So I keep quiet.
Not that there’s much to eavesdrop on. They sit in a prickly feeling silence for several minutes after that last exchange. I don’t hear Elric, Carys, or Liam, either—but I do think I hear the latter snoring loudly somewhere nearby. And even without opening my eyes, I can tell that it’s gotten even darker. There’s a small fire crackling now, but the heavy scent of smoke suggests that it’s only smoldering at this point.
I should just go back to sleep.
I can deal with everything in the morning—assuming, of course, that morning actually comes in this place, and that I’ll be able to recognize it when it does.
“Can I ask you something?” Soren’s voice is quiet, a little more unsure than I’m used to hearing it.
Casandra must not object, because he continues: “Even without the doors to Earth flung wide open or whatever, there have still been instances when creatures from Canath were able to slip through.”
More of that sharp silence for a minute, and then: “Yes. Partly because of your friend’s inability to properly control herself and wield the keys bestowed to her.”
I bite my tongue.
Inability?
Really?
It’s not like they came with an instruction manual and a practice schedule.
I didn’t even know they were in there until a few days ago.
“About fifteen years ago,” Soren continues, “some creatures that looked similar to those masked Anima creatures slipped through, and they attacked my mother and sister. And they took them away—to here, I’m assuming. So I was just wondering…” He
hesitates.
“What happened to the ones they stole?” Casandra supplies.
“Yes. That.”
“Once they drain their targets of their magical energy, they take the shells of those targets to their leader—to the queen, now. More bodies that are modified and then placed in storage, ready to physically replace any fallen members of her army. A recycling operation, essentially.”
She delivers this information so coldly, so matter-of-factly, that I want to leap to my feet and punch her in the face for being so insensitive.
And she’s not even finished.
“You saw underneath their masks, yes? So you know they’re usually disfigured beyond recognition—a side-effect of the magic used to reanimate those shell bodies they’re given. Not always, though. Sometimes they retain features of the ones they once were. So you should be prepared to guard yourself against that, just in case you find them again.”
I hear her getting to her feet and starting to walk away, while Soren starts to reply several times but ultimately doesn’t find the words to do so.
I can’t pretend to be asleep anymore.
I sit up, stretching and yawning and acting as though I just woke up.
Soren doesn’t seem to notice. He’s staring blankly, silently into the fire. Casandra stands just outside that fire’s light, her arms crossed and her head tilted toward the sky that’s strewn with dark red clouds.
I plop down next to Soren and try to keep my voice light as I say hello.
“Hey,” he replies, startled. He quickly shakes off that surprise and manages to mold his expression into something almost normal. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’d rather be home in my bed and not caught up in any of this insanity. How about you?”
“Same.”
“In my bed too, you mean?”
“Maybe,” he says with a mischievous smile.
My cheeks burn at the thought, but I laugh it off, and then I join him in staring at the fire until Elric appears with a bundle of wood scraps in his arms. He drops it into a messy pile; the clattering of falling twigs and bark echoes loudly across the stone-face we’re camped on, and I immediately turn and look for my sleeping companions.
Still asleep despite the noise; they’re both lying next to that overhang Liam rested underneath earlier, both of them curled up and resting as wolves. Much more secure to sleep in that form. And the fact that Liam must have woken up and been at least conscious enough to shift relieves some of the tightness in my chest.
But the relief is short-lived, because then I catch a glimpse of the Earth key—hanging from Elric’s neck, just barely peeking out from under the collar of his long coat—and suddenly I’m reliving all the worst parts of these past few hours.
I want to pretend I haven’t seen it, but I can’t help but say: “Another key successfully extracted. Hooray.”
“Just hanging on to it for safe-keeping,” Elric says, almost sheepishly.
I absently run a hand along my wrist; there are fresh scars there, formed in the shape of the key’s exit. Faint, thanks to my healing abilities, but the branding is still unmistakable.
“I thought I was the Keeper? Like of the whole world or whatever?” I muse.
“We didn’t have a chance to finish that explanation, did we? Before you, er…”
“Understandably passed out?” I offer.
He nods, looking over his shoulder at Casandra for help.
She turns back to us in that usual, you’re-all-really-annoying-me sort of way, and says: “Worldkeeper. You were born of both worlds—conceived on Earth but marked by creatures of Canath. So you have the power to open doors between the two…or shut them permanently. Curatorians. There used to be many of your sort, but over time more and more worlds have been permanently sealed off from each other, and thus the Curatorians have faded in number and power. But the texts that speak of them, and the prophecies that predict their eventual identities, still exist. Most of those texts are currently residing in the Dusk Queen’s Palace.”
“How do you know what texts are in the queen’s palace?”
Casandra’s gaze slides toward Elric.
“I lived in the palace for a short time,” he explains, his eyes not quite meeting mine. “Worked there, as a consultant to the queen on behalf of my kind. A position I took willingly, back when we thought we could change her mind about all of this army nonsense, make her see reason and focus on building up this world instead of tearing her way into another one. We thought wrong. I was deep in her clutches by the time I realized this; if not for Casandra and her associates, I never would have escaped that place.”
Soren and I look to her for further explanation.
“Not every creature in Canath is a monster,” she says, the usual ice in her voice melting a bit. “It’s complicated. But there are a small number of us who oppose, and regularly go to battle with, the queen. And we plan to keep saving people from her. And to keep her from marching her army into Earth—by whatever means possible.”
I grab one of the sticks Elric dropped and start poking at the smoldering fire.
Casandra fixes me with a hard, searching look. “We were hoping you would be the one who might be able to put an end to all of our battles. Those ancient texts suggested you should be capable of at least as much. But I believe they might have overestimated you.”
I stop stoking the fire. Irritation burns the back of my neck, sends a crawling sensation over my skull.
“Which is why I’m holding on to the key for now,” Elric interjects in his much friendlier tone. “So that the enemy won’t target you, or attempt to use you or anything like that. You also make it easier to track that key when you become ‘unstable’—we believe that’s why your friends were captured. The Anima are not particularly smart; they likely sensed the key’s energy, found your friends who were fresh with the scent of Earth, and so kidnapped them thinking they might have been the ones hiding said key.”
My gaze finds Carys and Liam again. Still resting peacefully. Still in one piece, despite all the suffering they’ve gone through because of my mistakes.
But how many more of those mistakes are they going to make it through?
“The key is supposed to be in your possession,” Casandra says, “but you obviously can’t control it, so—”
“I’m a liability. Got it, thanks.”
I get to my feet, brushing ash and rock dust from my jeans. I feel Soren watching me. I can sense his concern. But I don’t look at him; I only shoot one last glare at that key that I wanted nothing to do with, and then I turn away and start to walk, thinking only of putting as much distance between it and myself as possible.
I don’t go particularly far. I don’t want to worry my friends. But I wish I could run. Shift, and let the incredible speed of my wolf side carry me away from all of this.
Instead, I find a smooth, wide groove along the summit’s edge and I carefully lower myself down into it, letting my legs dangle over the edge of the cliff. After a few minutes of sitting there, attempting to come up with a plan about what to do next, I hear footsteps behind me.
Soren sits down next to me. He braces his hands against the rock and cautiously leans forward, studying the long, steep drop to the bottom. “Dare you to jump,” he says.
“Don’t tempt me,” I deadpan.
He laughs. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I try hard to keep the self-pity out of my voice.
I’m unsuccessful.
Which is annoying, because it isn’t like me to throw pity parties for myself. But there are definitely tears pricking the corners of my eyes, and I’m definitely considering throwing myself off this mountain before I let Soren see them.
I settle for burying my face in my hands, and I quietly say: “It doesn’t matter where I go, I’m still in the wrong place. I’m still making a mess of things just by existing.”
“Both keys are out now,” he points out. “So you should be less unstable, less
…messy.”
“But they were a part of me to begin with, right? I feel responsible for them—so it’s not like I can just look the other way while people use them to screw with the fabric of space and time or whatever. What happens if this Dusk Queen person gets a hold of the key? And Casandra and Elric…do we really trust them to hold it, either? If any of them do anything bad with it, then it’s kind of on me for bringing it into this world.”
“On us, really, since I’m the one who tricked you into coming here.”
“I chose to come here.”
He shakes his head. “Whatever. My point is, maybe your choices aren’t the only ones that will determine whether these entire worlds live or die. So cut yourself some slack.”
I want to argue, but my despair does sound a little over the top when he puts it like that.
“Forget saving the worlds, then,” I concede. “Things are still a mess, even without a war between them—because if I can’t properly wield the Earth key, then we can’t go home. And I don’t know if you heard, but time passes differently here. We’ve been gone for over a week now, as far as Earth is concerned, and my family is probably beside themselves with worry. My mom and dad will—”
My voice fades as he looks away, stares toward a curving, dark and shimmering path that might be a narrow river far below us.
I probably shouldn’t have brought up family.
Good job Elle, you moron.
He has no one waiting for him back on Earth, and if Casandra was right, there’s no one waiting for him anywhere in this god-forsaken world, either.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “We came here to save your family. I haven’t forgotten.”
He waves a hand—dismissively, like maybe he wishes he could just wave away his decision to try and find them, along with all the work he put into doing it.
It’s heartbreaking, and I hate Casandra all over again for so carelessly stomping all over the little bit of hope he had of finding them.
I refuse to stomp on it too.
I clear my throat. “Getting you to them should be the first thing we do. And then all of us can go back to Earth. Together. See, that’s what we should be thinking of, so I don’t know why I’m sitting here thinking about turning it into another save-the-entire-world adventure instead. You were right: I need to learn how to focus better.”
Silver and Shadow (The Canath Chronicles Book 2) Page 9