I’m not sure what I expected Liz to look like—considering the limited time I had spent with her, I don’t think I ever put too much thought into her appearance. Her gloves covered the burns that had long since scarred over on her arms, and her hair hung in curls down past her shoulders, thrown in disarray from her journey through the box, streaks of premature gray contrasting her wrinkleless face. A face that mirrored Mary’s while also reflecting my grandmother’s, and I raised a hand subconsciously to my face, wondering if the resemblance was borne there too.
Her eyes narrowed as they focused on me, then widened as she saw that I met her gaze. A second later, Mary’s face mimicked hers, and together they spoke.
One voice left their mouths, mouths that moved simultaneously as the streams of sound intertwined about each other like threads in a cord. As both their right hands rose simultaneously to their heart, and both their left legs stepped backwards in surprise.
“What have you done?” they said. “Caleb, what have you done?”
“No, what have you done?” I shouted, pointing at Liz. “All I did was figure it out!”
“But your sight, how did you get it back?” she said, and gasped as she saw the demon leaning against the corner of the room, giving her a casual salute.
“The name’s Iaco—” he said, but she cut him off.
“Silence!” she hissed, her voice so sharp that his words ended in an involuntary strangling sound as wind whipped about the room once more. “Caleb, tell me you didn’t do it. Oh God, I tried to prevent this. I sent you lessons, tutoring, to guide you. To keep something like this from happening.”
“You abandoned me!” I answered. “Not just anywhere, but in a school filled to the brim with dead students, dead for decades, students you somehow knew that I would not be able to tell the difference from real people!”
“I didn’t abandon you, I was here the whole time,” she said, and gestured to Mary. “As you know by now, Mary and I share a connection—more than a connection, we’re one and the same. It’s not entirely true that I survived that day, Caleb; part of me died, just like part of you died by your grandmother’s hand. Mary died, and now what she sees, I can see as long as I am looking.”
“But why the hell would you do this?” I said. “Leaving me here in the first place.”
“Because it’s the safest place for you,” she said. “Caleb, no matter what you think you know, there is much more that you don’t know about. You’re safe here, on this holy ground, within the monastery and with your necklace. I could keep an eye on you while simultaneously completing crucial tasks elsewhere. While you started to discover who you were. Of course, that was assuming that the door to this cellar was to have remained locked, and that your instincts would have kept you from coming here. And now I see that I was mistaken.”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I said. “And what do you mean, discover who I am?”
“The Lord of Death, the Keybearer of Hell,” Iaco said, and Liz shot him another glance. “Sorry, I couldn’t contain myself.”
“The scum is right,” she said, and her hand rose over her face. “Oh God, your father would murder me if he found out—he’d finish the job. That’s where I’ve been, Caleb, trying to postpone this, trying to keep it from happening at all. But I see now that I’m too late.”
“I’m supposed to be what? And how, how are you too late?”
“Your eyes, you signed a contract to get them back, did you not? Probably a trivial trade, something that seemed like you could only win, something that seemed like you couldn’t lose.”
“I had to,” I said, “to save a friend.”
“It doesn’t matter now. But contracts, contracts come with titles. And those titles are fully realized upon signing. So all this time, I’ve been trying to free you from your title, trying to keep you away from this life, to keep you from your inheritance,” she said, and she shook her head as a smile snuck across the demon’s face.
“But you signed yourself up.”
Chapter 43 - What is Loosed on Earth
“This is ridiculous,” I said, and I pointed toward the demon. “Absolutely ridiculous. You’re starting to sound like him! I’m no sort of lord, I’m not different from anyone else now. With my eyes back, now I’m normal—more normal than I’ve ever been.”
“You’re anything but,” she said. “What you see is not normal, Caleb, and you know it. If other people were to walk the halls above us now, they would feel alone; they cannot sense the presences of those that once were. They cannot speak with demons as you are doing now, and they certainly cannot call a name into that box and summon that which does not belong on this Earth. You’re the rightful heir of your grandmother, a position that has not changed seats in thousands of years. A power imbalance with implications beyond what anyone can remember.”
“And what, exactly, does that position entail?”
“As the demon said, the Keybearer of Hell. To keep watch over Hell’s gates. Now, under your grandmother, that was a somewhat lenient watch—only toward the end of her life did the church manage to pin her down, forcing her hand to keep the gates tightly sewn shut, dissolving the majority of her power. There’s a reason why stories of monsters are more prevalent the farther in history you go back. They’re not fake. Dracula, he was real, is real. Halflings, werewolves, sirens… I could go on. But they’ve been in hiding or locked away. And now that word is out that your grandmother has left her post, and you, a mere boy, have taken it up, I can assure you that there are plenty of entities that will be trying to change that.”
“But if she was your mother, shouldn’t you be the heir? And that makes you my aunt, my father’s sister! Why isn’t it you?”
“It transfers to the oldest in the line, which was your father, then to you,” she responded. “It’s always been that way. And my mother did everything in her power to prevent me from inheriting the power. That gas leak here was no accident, Caleb. It was meant to kill me, and ironically, I was the only one that survived.”
“She tried to kill you just as she tried to kill me, then? And she succeeded neither time?”
“That’s right, and that failure ate at her. When she tried to kill you, that was self preservation, but when she tried to kill me, it was malice. Already at that time she knew she was being watched carefully, and that such a killing would bring the armies of Heaven down at her doorstep. So instead, she was clever and found a loophole. There was a priest here at the school, a priest that she managed to seduce when he left the monastery after months of temptation. Meeting on his trips to the supermarket, cornering him alone in the park, slowly eroding away his resistance. And then, once he cracked, and succumbed, she threatened to out him.”
“So it was blackmail?”
“Yes, it was. And all she asked was a tiny favor from the priest. You see, he was the last remnant of an old order. An order that had forgotten its purpose over the years, which was to contain the box behind me, to prevent it ever from being opened, as the last time that occurred it burnt down their previous monastery. So the favor she asked was simple: Leave it open for an hour, just one hour, and she would keep his secret safe.”
“And when he did, there just so happened to be the gas leak from Hell,” I said. “Traveling up through the box. Technically, she would not be responsible for your death, since it was the priest himself who opened the box. A supposed agent of Heaven with bloodstained hands.”
“Precisely. Hell is a toxic place, Caleb, and a gas leak where it touches Earth would not be uncommon. Which brings us back to the box. Before, I thought I could strip you of this responsibility. But now, it’s up to you to complete it. This box was carved from the wood of the Tree of Knowledge, where the first sin originated. Where Adam and Eve took their bites of the apple and committed the sin of pride. A dead place.”
“Yes, I know, where Heaven, Hell, and Earth intersect.”
“More than that, Caleb. The sin of pride was so great that it created one of the seven
gates of hell, the Gate of Pride, locked shut at the root of the tree. One of the gates that you are now responsible for keeping closed.”
“But if it’s locked shut, then what’s the problem?”
“Because ever since your grandmother died, it’s been cracking open. And now that you’ve taken her title formally, it’s about to shatter.”
Chapter 44 - Sacrifice
“Go on,” said Liz as I stood silent. “Check for yourself. Look through the box.”
“And what happens if it breaks?” I asked, walking past her to pick up the box and holding it to my eye.
And there again I saw the massive tree, the same silver chain wrapped around the trunk, the tarnish coloring the metal a deep black. The links were stretched farther than before, barely clasped together, threatening to break at a dozen points across its length, bent in ways that made them appear as if they were about to shoot away like coiled springs. Below the links, blending in with the dark roots of the tree, I saw a hole that tunneled underneath, earth falling away in clumps from the surrounding dead grass. And stretched across the hole was a form of translucent fabric, so taut it was ready to split, its material shimmering like tangible moonlight.
“Terrible, terrible things happen if the gate opens,” said Liz. “Worse than you can imagine.”
“But it’s so small, surely nothing too terrible could come through.”
“Just as I walked through the box into this room, creatures will spill out of there. And if enough of them travel over into Eden, it’s only a matter of time before they can find a way to bridge between the worlds. But it’s not just monsters that spill from the hole—no, the worst are the ideas and intentions that also pour forth, the corrupting forces that spill outward from Hell and seep upward to our world. And those, while invisible, cause far more damage than any monster can.”
I frowned as I looked into the box another time and bit my lip, thinking back to the deal I had made.
“I didn’t do it for me,” I said, my voice low. “The deal, that is. I saved my friend’s life, someone who was here for me, and ever since I’ve had to protect her, else she’ll die again.”
“Death is unforgiving,” said Liz. “Even as a lord, you cannot steal from him. I hope the friend was grateful, because it will cost you dearly.”
“She doesn’t even know,” I replied.
“Probably for the best,” answered Liz.
“Why’s that?”
“If there was a way to twist your arm to force the seven gates open, such as a person you cared for deeply, I can assure you that they would be in grave danger.”
I thought back to Oakley, her words from our last conversation echoing in my head.
Don’t you ever come near me again, Caleb.
And even though she had said it, even though she had stormed away, I had still hoped that maybe she would want to see me again. That maybe I could explain what had happened to me, and despite how insane it sounded, that she might believe me.
That maybe in that one aspect of my life I could cling to normalcy. That I could have someone as my friend, as more than a friend.
But if that meant putting Oakley’s life back in jeopardy, then there was no question to the decision that I had to make.
“So I should just let her go then, and never tell her?”
“The more she knows, the more danger she’s in,” said Liz, and she studied my face, her frown deepening. “And the more you care about her, the more that danger deepens. Let her go, Caleb, or else you’ll be gambling with her life. And additionally, you have to fulfill your duties now. You have to restore the lock on that gate, before it’s too late.”
“And how do I do that?” I asked, turning my face away.
“I don’t know every way, and surely there are more than one. Your grandmother knew them of course, and she guarded those secrets closely. Many of them she alone could do, with her title, and if we knew how, then you could too. But there is a way that I do know of, a way that the last lock was placed, that anyone can do but your power would amplify.”
“Well I definitely have not had any revelations about the other ways, and I try to keep my chats with grandmother short, so what would that be?”
“A sacrifice,” said Liz. “The Gate of Pride exists from placing yourself before others, from self love. To counteract that, a sacrifice can be made. An act of selfless love for others. It doesn’t have to be enormous, though it does have to come with pain.”
“And that lock there, the one currently holding the gate closed, what sacrifice was that?”
“One your father made when you were born, Caleb. One he made in fighting your grandmother to protect you, dying in that effort to ensure that you would never be in the position you are now. And now that you are, well, the sacrifice is broken.”
Chapter 45 - The Plan
Liz arrived in person the next morning, Matthew close behind her.
As our conversation finished in the cellar, she had departed back through the box, taking Mary with her.
“What you called here,” she had said, as the box exploded once more and she walked through, “is but a fragment of me, and not my true physical self. Consider it my spirit, or soul, the part of me that doesn’t need a physical representation. So I need to return to my full self, but I’ll be back soon. My full self this time. Stay put until then, and we’ll tackle this issue together.”
Mary was there when Liz walked through the door, and she placed her own feet on top of Liz’s, their bodies meshed together in an overlap of ghost and physical, Mary’s elbows sticking out at odd angles from Liz’s hips.
“Liz explained to me the current circumstances,” said the preacher man, his deep voice rumbling. “And I agree with her on the actions we must take. Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil. The gate must be closed.”
“And you expect me to close it,” I said.
“You’re the only one who can,” he replied. “Or at least, can without incredible risk, considering that necklace of yours.” He bent over and pointed to the silver ear of corn around my throat. “A protective piece, given to you by your grandmother herself as part of your title.”
“Here, then, you wear it,” I said, and I pulled the cold chain off my neck and held it toward him, but he took a quick step backward, holding up his hands.
“I’m afraid I cannot,” he said, and the sides of Liz’s mouth turned upward.
“He’s more of a purist,” she said. “Considering the amount of time that your grandmother was in contact with it, and what she did to the last priest she was in contact with, I can’t hold him at fault for wanting to keep his distance.”
“But it’s ok for me to have it, then,” I said, a hard edge entering my voice, “because I’m already unclean. How about you take it, then, Liz. You already said you were considered less innocent than me.”
“My mother already rejected me, and therefore so would the necklace. It won’t work, and without its protection, I can assure you that I would be lucky to seal the gate, and luckier to escape alive. In addition, I hold only a fragment of the authority you do, and any seal I place will have eroded away by year’s end. So it is up to you, Caleb.”
“Which means you will need a token of sacrifice,” said the preacher man. “A burden to bear.”
“Is signing myself into this already not enough of a burden?”
“That action was a trade, not a sacrifice, so it is void,” said Matthew. “And with your sacrifice, you must have something that represents it. Something that you can place at the gate, which will fend away anything that tries to pass as surely as that necklace fends away harm. A trinket imbued with the meaning of your action. Now, son, is there anything that you can give up that will lead toward the betterment of others? Anything you can bear so others do not have to?”
I sighed, thinking.
Already I had lost so much. I had lost my mother, my home, and for some time, my sight. I had lost any hope
for a normal life, for friendships with others. And I had probably lost my relationship with Oakley.
Probably.
“I’ll need sunglasses and my cane,” I said. “As well as Shankey. And I’ll need to be alone. But after this, I want to be clear there will be no secrets. That you’ll fill me in on everything. And that you’ll never abandon me again.”
“Of course,” said Liz, turning her gaze toward the preacher man, who gave no answer of his own. “Of course.”
Chapter 46 - Bracelets
I tapped my cane along the street, allowing Shankey to lead me forward, the dark sunglasses obscuring eyes that now took in the world around them.
The streets were dirtier than I had thought now that I could see, scraps of litter blowing along them in the wind, smog from cars accumulating on the snow plowed off to the sides. The clouds above hardly let any sun through, serving to darken the already bleak atmosphere. And underneath it all, I could still sense the things that I could when I was blind. In the distance I could just barely make out the cemetery I had visited, the dark black undertones of death shrouding the tombstones. And every so often, around a corner, I would catch a flash of red, of one of the figures, now with more detail than the simple red outline I could see before, but still too distant to properly make out.
In my hand I held two bracelets, the small chain around them silver, one with a clear crystal set in the center and the other with an opaque stone. I’d taken special care in selecting them, choosing the crystal which had a frosted coating over the top, and scraping that away to make it completely see through. And the other had come with a dot of black paint on its stone which I had removed, chipping it away until none was left, a slight gouge digging into the jewel.
Eden's Eye (The Gates Book 1) Page 14