Gatekeepers

by Sam Ferguson

  The door swung open.

  We passed through and into a large chamber. How any of this was kept hidden from the world was beyond me. The forests of this area were thick, but surely someone must have noticed the strange trees with doors and the random cars parked in the cemetery by now. More than that, how could anyone have excavated this massive underground compound without Section Four shutting them down?

  Rolf led me through the large chamber and then into a side passageway that curved and wound through the earth. The walls of stone turned to clay as we descended down a spiraling staircase. It seemed we went down for three or four stories before the stairs opened out into another hallway. We walked for twenty yards and came to a three-way fork. The door on the left was blue. The one in the middle was gold. The door on the right was red. In front of each door was a box of black stone set upon a pedestal of gold. Rolf moved toward the red door and placed his hand atop the box.

  I watched as a yellow light grew from within the stone and enveloped his hand. It was like some kind of biometric scanner, but it didn’t use any technology that I recognized. The light faded and the red door opened. We walked inside and I was directed to a wooden chair. There were five other chairs in the room, four more along my side of a half-moon shaped table, and one large, high-backed chair on the opposite side. I expected Rolf to take that one, as it was obviously meant for whoever was in charge, but he didn’t. He sat next to me.

  A door at the back of the room opened and two women entered. They were gorgeous. Brilliantly bright blonde hair, sharp facial features, and tight, athletic builds. Their clothes were equally magnificent. Robes of green silk with gold and silver designs woven into the trim around the cuffs and hem lines. They only came in a few feet, and then moved to take positions on either side of the doorway.

  Rolf stood up.

  I did likewise.

  A tall man entered. His eyebrows were thick and dark. His face was stern, with angular features like the women, but a much wider jaw and nearly square chin. He looked at me with eyes that appeared to be purple. He wore a silver robe with red trim that matched the women’s in design. A long, slightly curved scimitar hung from his left hip. My eyes locked onto the blade as he moved toward the high-backed chair. As a boy, I had collected swords of all kinds. I had claymores, katanas, longswords, you name it, but I had never seen one like this. The scabbard was leather, not the cheap kind that only maintains its lacquer for a year or two before cracking, but expensive, supple leather. The hand guard was made of steel, and had a leaf-and-vine design carved into it. The handle itself appeared to be a mix of wood and ivory. I had this intense longing to see what the blade itself looked like, but I didn’t dare do something so bold as ask to see it.

  Whoever this man was, if Rolf was showing deference, then I would keep my mouth shut until spoken to.

  “Be seated,” the man said with a wave of his hand.

  Rolf and I sat.

  The man moved into the high backed chair and looked at me for a moment. Then he turned to Rolf. Neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other. I shifted in my seat and glanced to the two women at the back of the room. They were watching me carefully. I put on a smile and offered them a nod. They didn’t respond at all.

  My stomach was growing into a knotted mess as I sat quietly, waiting for whatever this silent period was to be over. Then, after a few minutes, the man reached up and pulled his hair back. It had been too long to see before, but now that the hair was moved I could see tall, pointed ears.

  “My name is Indyrith, I am the Oracle of the Gates.”

  I nodded. I heard the words, and had I not been stuck staring at the man’s ears, I might have responded. I had read many fantasy novels as a kid. Indyrith was the spitting image of every wise elf I had ever read about. The long hair, the sharp features. The graceful walk. The pointed ears and the vibrantly colored eyes. It was as if I had stepped out of reality completely now. Rolf had to nudge me to break my fixation.

  “I am Joshua Mills,” I said, rubbing my ribs a bit.

  “It is my understanding that the drakkul believe you have stolen something of theirs.”

  “No, I didn’t take anything,” I said. Why was nobody understanding this?

  Indyrith waved a hand. “The drakkul have laws that allow the direct descendants of criminals to be punished in the event that the criminal has either died, escaped, or is otherwise beyond their grasp.”

  “But they killed him,” I replied. “He already paid for his crime, if he actually stole something from them.”

  Indyrith shook his head. “I’m afraid that is not how the drakkul see it. They will continue to maintain that they have a right to claim recompense until they are satisfied. The more valuable the object stolen, or the greater the crime committed, the more the drakkul will demand as fair repayment. In most cases, blood is considered fair payment for theft, murder, and other acts that dishonor the victim.” Indyrith laced his fingers together on the table and leaned forward a bit. “I have seen them carry on feuds for generations, both in their worlds, and in ours. To put it into terms that are readily understandable, you are familiar with the fact that there are groups of people who seek reparation from the U.S. government for the slavery of African Americans, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “If this situation was the same, but drakkul people had been enslaved, they would be demanding the deaths of each and every direct descendant of every slave owner not only now, but for another three hundred years, or until their descendants were destroyed.”

  My eyes shot open wide. Suddenly the couple of complaints I had heard from my crazy uncle about affirmative action seemed pathetically paltry by comparison.

  “I don’t even know what was stolen,” I said.

  Indyrith nodded. “Yes, I have the details that Rolf gave me.” He reached across the table and held out his hands for me. “Come, give me your hands. I will search your memories. If we can find any clues that will help us, then I can maybe present a solution to the drakkul.”

  “But, I thought Rolf won the fight. Doesn’t that mean they can’t come back?”

  Rolf shook his head. “Seven weeks. That’s all the longer a portal closure is good for. In seven weeks, they can return with another champion.”

  “Yet, I fear they will not wait,” Indyrith said. “The first drakkul came covertly to find your father. Whatever he stole is of such vital importance that some drakkul individuals are willing to risk their own honor and deceitfully gain entry into our world. If we do not stop them, it will open the way for further attacks. If other races see that we are unable to protect ourselves, they may also try to take advantage of the situation.”

  I reached my hands across the table. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I didn’t see the harm in allowing Indyrith to look into my thoughts. “I don’t think you’ll find anything new,” I said.

  Indyrith smiled. “We shall see.”

  The instant my hands touched his, there was a power that seized my wrists and held them fast. My vision went dark. A rush of wind whirled about me in the blackness, and then there was a flash of silver light, followed by a second, and then a third flash. It was like a lightning storm off in the distance, breaking into a moonless night, except I knew it wasn’t nighttime. I could no longer feel my chair, or the floor beneath my feet. There was only the rush of air, and a stirring in the dark that I could not see.

  “Calm your mind. Try to relax. The longer you fight it, the harder it will be for me to find what I need,” a voice said in the darkness. It took me a moment to realize that it was Indyrith speaking. “Focus on your breathing. Take a deep breath in, hold it, and then slowly let it out.”

  I tried, but it was like taking a breath while sticking your head out the window of a car moving at high speeds on the freeway. The air assaulted my face, and my body was resisting against it.

  “Calm,” Indyrith said again.

  I tried to open my mouth to speak, but it was filled with a gust of a
ir that blew out my cheeks and made my lips flap about. Forget the car metaphor. This was like that Chevy Chase movie with the g-force machine. My hair was whipping back behind me. I squinted my eyes shut. My stomach flipped and I felt as though I would retch last week’s breakfast.

  “Clear your mind,” Indyrith said.

  Clear it? How does one clear their mind after seeing the things I had seen in the last couple of days? A secret government organization that wanted to kill me if I refused to work for them, a random team of super soldiers that fight the monsters that keep children awake at night, lizard-men that visit our planet through massive portals, and elves. Let’s not forget there was an elf holding my hands at this very moment. Being raised Mormon, I had never taken drugs, but I was starting to wonder if someone had slipped me something back in jail. Maybe I was still there. Or, maybe I really was in the mental hospital. That would explain a lot of this.

  “You must clear your thoughts!” Indyrith shouted. The voice echoed in the darkness. I tried to focus on my breathing, but it was still coming in short gasps. I couldn’t simply think of nothing. It was impossible. There was far too much going on. Still, I wanted to work with Indyrith as best I could. If he could devise a way to appease the drakkul, then I had to try.

  I thought of Susan. Our wedding day. It had been the best day of my life. The ceremony had been wonderful, with friends and family gathered into the temple in American Fork, Utah. The reception had been held at an outdoor park. It had made for wonderful pictures, but I could still remember how hot it had been wearing a tux outside during the last weekend of June. In my mind’s eye, I saw Susan’s face. She was smiling, brushing a stray bit of hair from her face as we went to cut the cake. We didn’t shove the pieces into each other’s faces like some do. After the reception someone had told us that not doing so was a sign of good luck, that we would be strong as a couple. I guess there was no omen to warn us about me being charged with murder.

  Soon the line between memory and reality faded. I wasn’t just seeing the past. I was reliving it. I held her close for our first dance. She laughed as we focused only on ourselves. She was radiant in her gown. It was like dancing with a star. She laid her head on my shoulder and we finished out the song before giving each other a kiss.

  I fast forwarded to the day Tommy was born. It was a cool day in late September. Susan went through thirty-six hours of labor while I sat there holding her hand and wishing I could have taken the pain for her. I could still feel the overwhelming sense of joy, pride, and love that filled the room when little Tommy finally emerged. He wasn’t overly large, but he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The nurses cleaned him up and performed their measurements and tests. Everything had worked out better than I had ever anticipated.

  Next I saw his second birthday. We had stuffed dragon’s hanging from the ceiling. At the time, Tommy was so into the movie How to Train Your Dragon, that he hardly talked of anything else but dragons. We were happy. Life had been perfect.

  “Good, now let me direct you,” a voice said.

  I turned around and saw Indyrith standing in the living room of the small apartment we had been living in during the time of Tommy’s second birthday.

  “How did you get here?” I asked. I had almost forgotten that I was inside a memory.

  Indyrith smiled. “Come with me.”

  The tall elf led me to the front door. I looked back into the apartment. Susan and Tommy were playing, and then I saw myself, as if watching a family movie. The past version of me filled the void in the memory as I left it behind.

  “Come,” Indyrith said. “We cannot stay long, or you will get lost in your own mind.” I nodded, but there was a part of me that thought it might not be so bad. If I could relive those early years again, before the alley in Dallas, before the…

  I shook my head. No. I had a job to do now. The real Tommy and Susan were still out there, and they were going to need me if this drakkul feud was going to involve all of my father’s direct descendants.

  I stepped out the open door, but instead of reaching the apartment balcony, I found that we were in the alleyway in Dallas. I saw the old me and my father come around the corner. I stayed quiet as Indyrith walked around them, listening intently to their words.

  The portals opened. The fight ensued. I had been able to detach myself somewhat from the videotaped version of the past, but seeing the memory played out around me was entirely different. While the old me ran for the harbinger wolf, I sprinted toward the drakkul warrior. I lunged for him from behind, and then sailed through his body as if I were nothing more than a ghost. I hit the ground and rolled to a stop. I jumped up and made to attack again, but Indyrith suddenly was at my side and held me still.

  “There is nothing you can do,” he said.

  “I have to try.”

  Indyrith held tight.

  We were both pulled through the portal along with the old me. I guess since my mind didn’t see what happened in the alley until I returned, we weren’t able to stay where we were and help. I watched as I struggled with the harbinger wolf. I felt the same rage as I watched it tear into my back. Then, in the blink of an eye we landed on the other side of the portal. The harbinger wolf went down first and then I crashed onto it and finished the fight, or at least I thought I had. In that moment I remembered Katya’s warning that the creature would heal from the injuries I inflicted on it.

  We rushed back through the portal once more.

  “I don’t know where it is, I swear!” my father said. I already knew how this was going to play out.

  The masked drakkul plunged the sword deep into my father’s chest. He then pulled the blade back out and cut off my father’s head.

  I saw my old self charge the drakkul. The drakkul turned, laughed at my old self, and then raised his sword and took three steps toward the old me.

  I watched helplessly as the old me engaged the drakkul. The only saving grace was I knew how this was going to play out. I would win and survive, and the drakkul would get stabbed through the gut. It would be a slow death for him, and an agonizing murder charge that would change my life.

  “Study everything,” Indyrith said as he motioned for me to walk with him to survey the battle up close. “The human mind picks up on things that you cannot always recall clearly. That is why I prefer to walk among memories myself, rather than discuss important questions.”

  “And I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t trust me,” I said sarcastically.

  Indyrith nodded. “It is harder to lie in such situations, yes. That is part of it. I trust that you would tell me what you could, but I am looking for something you can’t tell me. A lie of omission because your subconscious recorded a detail you can’t remember. I trust you, Joshua Mills; it is the failings of the human mind in general that I distrust.”

  I shrugged and watched as the masked drakkul stepped in and sliced down. The past me turned sideways, allowing the blade to sail harmlessly in front of me, and then I spun around so as to use my momentum. The attacker dodged away, and I tackled nothing. The old me grunted as I hit the ground, and rolled away. The sword came down and threw out orange sparks as it struck the asphalt. The drakkul growled and ran after me.

  “You aren’t going to win, snake-face,” I said as I grinned. I would never call myself a fighter, but watching the moves I executed in the alley, I had to admit that I was doing a fine job of it, especially considering the circumstances.

  The old me kept rolling out of the way as the drakkul continued his assault. After a few more near misses, the old me kicked my legs forward. My right leg connected with the drakkul’s groin. The drakkul stumbled backwards. The old me masterfully pulled the spare blade and jumped up.

  The masked drakkul swished his sword from side to side. Lightning streaked across the blade. Then, he charged in. The drakkul swung and the old me moved to parry. The swords connected and that terrible thunderous sound rocked the alleyway again. The drakkul spun around, changing directions. T
he old me blocked that strike as well, and then the drakkul kicked the old me in the stomach.

  “You were doing well,” Indyrith commented as I watched my old self fly into the building and slide down the wall.

  “Until this point,” I replied.

  The drakkul charged, but the old me blocked that strike as well. As I watched the old me punch the drakkul, I mimed a savage left as if fighting again. It was hard not to get into the action, despite having already sailed through the memory-produced image of the drakkul once.

  The drakkul came down with a hard chop that despite the block, cut down into old me’s shoulder. Streaks of lightning fired off around the swords. Then, I noticed that the old me drifted his gaze to my father’s corpse.

  I stepped forward. “No, don’t lose your focus. Get back in the fight. Think of Susan and Tommy, fight for them! Don’t let them find you here in an alley like some gutter-rat! Get up!” I shouted at my old self.

  Old me set his jaw and kicked again, this time pushing the drakkul back several feet. Old me shot upward, angling the sword up and out. The masked drakkul charged in. Old me leaned forward and prepared to launch off the wall with the sword, but I could no longer contain myself. Indyrith had already told me there was nothing I could do but watch, and I had already discovered that myself when I tried to tackle the drakkul, but something urged my feet forward.

  The angle of the drakkul’s sword was not where it should have been. In the alleyway, the sword had flashed over my back horizontally, but now the memory-produced version was angling for a diagonal chop. There was no way the old me was going to avoid being hit.

  I rushed forward with speed like I had never had before. The drakkul was fast, but with all of my rage focused on him I swung at the back of his head. My fist connected with his skull. He stumbled forward and in an attempt to correct himself, he shifted the angle of the sword.

  The old me stabbed the drakkul through the chest, and the drakkul swished his sword through the air, just missing old me by a hair.

  The drakkul howled in pain and crumpled to the ground with old me. Old me let go of the sword and climbed up the drakkul’s body and seized the creature’s sword arm. Old me pressed his wrist to the ground with his left hand and then began wailing on the side of the drakkul’s head with the right.