by Janean Worth
All of the anxiety that he’d been holding inside—all of the grief that had nearly destroyed him when he’d thought her dead—suddenly fled. Joy, bright with love, lodged in his heart instead, replacing the dark feelings.
He grinned at Kara, then reached over to give her an awkward sideways hug.
“Please don’t ever die again, Kara. I can’t take it.”
Kara hugged him back. “We all die some day, Mathew. But I’ll try not to do it again anytime soon.”
Mathew pulled back and settled upon the feather‑soft pillows, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
“So where are we?”
Kara’s smile grew. “You won’t believe it.”
Mathew raised his eyebrows, waiting.
She held her silence a moment more, impishly dragging out the moment.
“We are at the Narrow Gate,” she said, grinning so widely that her face seemed illuminated with happiness.
Chapter Forty
Mathew stood beside his father and looked out across the place they’d chosen to call the Narrow Gate.
It was not what he’d expected at all. It wasn’t a glorious city, raised from the disaster of the Fall and brought back to pomp and glittering glory. Instead, it was a quaint village, very well maintained, populated by Believers whose only aim in life was to do the right thing and follow the instruction of the One True God.
“I cannot believe most of the citizens wanted to stay in GateWide, now that their gate is gone,” he said. There weren’t as many people in the Narrow Gate as he’d thought there would be.
“Each person can make their own choices, Son. None can be forced to believe. And, each must find the Narrow Gate when they are ready. If they do not seek it, then they should not find it.”
Mathew nodded. “I know, but who would want to live in GateWide after all of the suffering that the Sovereign caused there?”
“To some, that is all that they know, and they are afraid to leave it.”
“And, after the fire, no one found the girl that led the Strays away from Otto’s sanctuary? Or the people that she said were brought to GateWide? Or the Sovereign?”
“No, all that was found was the Sovereign’s carriage. The horses wandered back into GateWide with it late the next day.”
Mathew nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
“I never thought that I would see you again,” he said, trying to keep his voice from catching up on the emotional words.
“I always hoped I would see you again, Son. I knew that the Creator would not leave us parted forever.”
“And Kara’s father? He’s not here?” Mathew asked, a pang of sadness dampening the joy in his heart.
“No,” Gregory said, shaking his head. “Kara’s father went to find her years ago after he contacted her and found that she was a Stray living in the wilderness. He never returned. I fear that he was killed by the Enforcers, or by a hungry leob, or perhaps a group of Fidgets.”
“Have you told Kara?” Mathew asked, his heart heavy for the grief the news would bring to her.
“Yes,” Gregory said. “She took it well, but I know that it was a hard blow after all that she has endured.”
“Why did you never come to find me, Father?” Mathew asked, hating the tone of hurt that had crept into his voice.
“I tried to find you, Mathew. Time and time again, I tried. But I couldn’t. And, now I see that, perhaps, this was the Creator’s will. You had much to accomplish on your own, it seems.”
Mathew glanced out over the Narrow Gate, his eyes seeking and finding the people he knew. Kara stood off beside a hut, talking with Truchen, whom his father had found wandering very near to the Mire. Gabert was some ways off, helping an older woman with what looked to be laundry.
Several tracken, including Zandra and Razer, lounged in the sun near a split‑rail fence that encircled the whole of the small village. Jack and Merrilee sat near the gathering of tracken, as did the other Strays who had been betrayed by the girl and captured, all of them enjoying the sun and lavishing attention upon the gentle beasts that lay around them.
Everyone looked so peaceful and content.
“Yes, I guess it did. And Kara, too,” Mathew agreed. “But I don’t understand why you did not just tell me where the Narrow Gate was. Why all of the trouble and struggle to find this place? Why did I have to learn to do the right thing?”
His father smiled down at him gently. “It was never about the destination, Son; it was all about the journey. Much like life itself.”
Chapter Forty-One
The Fidgets dragged him down a dark tunnel, and he could not free himself from their grasp. He could barely move his arms. They were heavy with useless Old Tech that no longer worked. His eye socket ached where the Far‑Seeing device cut into his skin, and he longed to tear it from his face now that it was no longer functional. The pain he’d borne after he’d fused the Old Tech to his body had always been offset by the power that the devices gave him. With the power gone, the pain seemed too much, and he longed to rip the Old Tech from his body.
But he could not, because his hands no longer functioned as they once had. He could barely move his arms at all, and when he did, his hands remained as useless as stumps.
The Fidgets had been carrying him for hours. They’d first come out of the darkness, angry at the massacre of their fellow creatures, slinking up to him as he knelt helplessly in the meadow.
The driver had not survived their attack. The horses had been luckier, as they’d managed to flee, dragging the heavy carriage off into the darkness with them.
The Fidgets had sniffed at him, at the putrid flesh of his arms and face, and one of them had, astonishingly, muttered a single word: “Companion.”
After that, they’d finished their feast of the driver’s remains, taken the man’s possessions, and then begun to drag the Sovereign though the Old Forest.
They’d travelled like that for hours, reaching the abandoned city just as the sky had begun to lighten. The Fidgets had become a little agitated then, and had rushed into some subterranean tunnels that were lined with iron rails.
Now, they were hauling him down yet another tunnel.
The dragged him up over a platform of some type, and then dumped him unceremoniously in front of what looked like a huge chair. In the chair sat a shriveled, ancient man.
Through the darkness, the Sovereign could just barely see the man’s smile.
“My horde found you unappetizing. I cannot wonder why since you stink of rot so badly. But we will fix that up. Yes, we will. What interesting things you have attached to your body. But, where are my manners? Welcome! Welcome, Companion.”
Author’s Note:
I hope that you enjoyed Road’s End. If you did, please consider leaving a review on Amazon for me because I’d love to hear what you thought of the book (and if you’d like to see a fifth book in the series). If you would like to be notified about upcoming releases, please join my mailing list at www.janeanworth.com so I can stay in touch with you.
If you like Christian fiction, you may be interested in a new series that I started this year: The Invisible. Following, you’ll find the complete first novella of the series, Beauty, The Invisible, Episode One. Happy Reading!
Beauty
The Invisible
Episode One
By Janean Worth
Beauty is a work of fiction. Characters, names, incidents, and places are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally, with much creative license. Any resemblance to actual locations, places, events or persons, either still living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 by Janean Worth
All rights reserved. . Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying, recording, xerography or in any information storage or retrieval system, is fo
rbidden without the written permission of the author, Janean Worth and the publisher, Author’s Art, www.authorsart.com
Cover design by Janean Worth, graphics from Adobe Stock
Scripture quotes/verses from the Bible, King James Version.
Foreword:
This book deals with fictional characters who possess supernatural abilities. Although I have never personally met anyone who has been gifted with a supernatural psychic ability, I do believe that God blesses each of us with a gift as described in 1 Corinthians 12.
I also believe that, as described in Matthew 17:20, should any of us have faith the size of a mustard seed, nothing would be impossible for us. If we genuinely wanted to use our gifts only to serve God and His desires, and had sufficient faith, we could possibly be gifted with such physical gifts as I’ve seen fit to give the fictional characters on the following pages.
Chapter One
Lucien Curmodene leaned against the wall outside Bella Thompson’s apartment and listened to the commotion going on inside, not even trying to wipe the delighted smile off of his face. He really enjoyed the sound of a good, raging argument. Especially this one.
He’d rented the apartment on the floor above Bella’s earlier that day. Hers was a very nice building, with a long waiting list—very posh, very safe, in a prime spot in Portland. He shouldn’t have been able to rent the apartment at all. He hadn’t been on the waiting list. He hadn’t even known there was an open apartment until sweet Bella had told him about it a few days ago at work after she’d seen the previous occupants moving out.
Work! He held back a snort. He hated that job. He was glad he’d only be working there a few more days. In fact, tomorrow would be his last day, if his plans progressed as he expected. He couldn’t wait to walk out for the last time. He hated everything about it. It was demeaning to lower himself to help the customers and grovel to the boss, demeaning to hide his power from them. He wasn’t sure how he’d been able to force himself to do it for the previous three days without resorting to violence. The customers, the manager, his coworkers—even sweet, beautiful Bella—had no idea what he was or what he was capable of, and he couldn’t wait to show them. The next day couldn’t come soon enough for him.
There was more shouting from inside Bella’s apartment, and he returned his attention to the epic argument that Bella and her fiancé were having.
It was escalating quite nicely. In fact, after Lucien’s initial manipulation of her fiancé, the argument had progressed just fine on its own, without any more help from him.
Bella’s fiancé was shouting at the top of his lungs. The man sounded like a bull, bellowing like that, and for a moment Lucien contemplated breaking down the door and barging in to put an end to the way the man was speaking to his beautiful Bella. But no, Lucien had to stop himself. This was all part of his plan. Bella had to suffer this indignity, and quite a few more, before he could set the rest of his plan in motion.
It was too bad, really, but that was just how it had to be. Staring at the closed door as he listened to the man spew fury and vitriol at Bella, Lucien wasn’t particularly sorry about it. Sometimes a little suffering was good for a person. Any suffering that she had to go through would just make the culmination of his plans for her that much sweeter, and perhaps humble sweet Bella just a little.
Lucien very much liked his women humble. He grinned again just thinking about his future plans for Bella and for himself, all of which were going to be made possible by his new talents.
He loved his newfound abilities and, most important, he loved what he was able to achieve with them. He only wished he’d discovered how to use them sooner.
If he’d known about his gifts earlier, he’d have been able to create quite a few more arguments, just like the one that Bella and her no‑good fiancé were having, purely for his own enjoyment.
Chapter Two
“That’s it!” Derek yelled, his face suffused with angry color, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “I am not putting up with this any longer! If you don’t love me enough to give me what I want, like a normal woman would, then I can find someone else to love me. The engagement is off!”
Spittle flew from his open mouth as he shouted viciously at Bella. Confronted with such unleashed rage and bitter criticism, Bella took a fearful step back, shaking violently with emotion.
She was so frightened that her mind began to imagine oily black shapes coalescing in the corners of the room, just at the edges of her vision. The anger in the room was almost palpable. It seemed to hover in the air between them like a living beast, hungry for prey.
Derek had never treated her this way before. Never. She wasn’t sure what had triggered such a ferocious outburst from him. She wrapped her quivering arms around her stomach, trying to hold in her sobs, trying not to let the bitter tears that burned her eyes escape from under her lids.
“I do love you, Derek. I do, it’s just that I wanted to—”
“Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t want to hear it anymore!” he yelled, his white‑knuckled fists now clenched at his sides as he leaned toward her, rage glinting in his eyes. In a high falsetto, he mimicked her voice, “You want to remain pure and chaste. You don’t want to have sex before marriage. The Bible says . . .”
Bella bit back another painful sob. It hurt to hear him say those things, to make light of her beliefs, to belittle her so crudely. It hurt a lot.
“I’ve heard it all before! I don’t want to hear it again,” he bellowed. “If you loved me, you’d show me the affection I need!”
“But I—”
“I said shut up!” he roared. “I’m done with you. Just done!”
Derek grabbed his leather jacket from the rack beside the door, nearly tearing the rack from the wall when the fabric caught on it momentarily. He ripped open the front door and, without even a backward glance, stormed out. The powerful slam of the door shook the entire wall and a tiny crack appeared in the aged drywall that edged the hardwood frame.
“Derek . . .” Bella whispered into the empty air. “Don’t go . . .”
She stared at the closed door, eyes burning, cheeks hot with humiliation, stomach churning with fierce emotion. She stood there for a full minute before she finally dared to let her sobs escape. And once she started crying, she didn’t know if she could stop. Great, gulping sobs tore out of her as a torrent of tears rained from her eyes.
How could he treat her like that? After a two ‑ year relationship, with their wedding less than nine months away, how could he demand sex from her in such a cheap way? How could he say that she did not love him? She loved him more than any other man she’d ever dated. She loved him so much that she’d agreed to become his wife. She’d done more for him than she’d ever done for anyone else she’d ever gone out with, but she wouldn’t cross that line. She believed in purity before marriage. She believed what the Bible said about it. Why couldn’t he see that she was saving herself for him too? For their future? For the stability of their marriage foundation?
Sobs shook her so hard that she stumbled to her leather couch and crumpled down upon it, afraid she’d just fall into a heap where she stood if she didn’t sit down.
It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair!
She’d thought that Derek was different. How could she have been so wrong? She’d thought that he truly cared about her. That he loved her. That they had the same goals in life.
Of course, lately she’d noticed small signs, mostly in the previous couple of months, that maybe Derek wasn’t as happy in their relationship as she was—the little digs, a sarcastic tone sometimes, comments about her “cold” nature. But, she hadn’t realized that his unhappiness with her choice to remain chaste had gotten quite so out of hand. She hadn’t realized that he had been so terribly angry at her.
And she wasn’t cold. She wasn’t! She’d shown him affection all of the time. She’d cuddled with him on the couch while they watched movies. She’d embraced him frequently. Even kissed him passionately. But
she didn’t throw herself at him, or rub her body against him suggestively, or lead him on, because that would have been wrong considering her vows of purity. She’d been straightforward and honest. She’d told him of her Christian beliefs early on in their relationship. She’d told him that she would remain pure until her marriage. And he’d said it was fine with him. He’d even said he’d admired her choice. But he’d lied.
Just like all the rest. Men only saw her appearance, the shape of her face, the shape of her body. They did not see the shape of her soul.
Slowly her tears lessened, but she remained on the couch, despondent. The black shapes that had lingered just at the edges of her vision seemed to draw nearer to her as she sank into deep despair.
Without Derek, her plans for the future seemed empty. Meaningless. No marriage. No husband. No children. Nothing. She hadn’t realized just how much hope she’d invested into the future of their relationship until he’d ripped it away from her.
Thinking of her past experiences with the other men she’d dated, she realized that she would probably always be alone. Men only saw her beauty—nothing more. They only wanted a physical relationship with her—nothing more.
Feeling broken, she closed her eyes and said a quiet prayer, asking for comfort.
Chapter Three
The morning alarm on her phone awoke her after she’d fallen into a fretful sleep on the couch. After Derek had stormed out the night before, she hadn’t had the fortitude to get up and do her nightly routine of brushing her teeth, showering, or even taking off her makeup. In a fit of self‑pity, hating her own beauty, she had lain there until she’d drifted off into a land of nightmares and repeated rejection.
Groaning, she sat up, rubbing at the sharp kink at the base of her neck. Her mouth tasted foul and her morning breath would rival a dragon’s. As she struggled up out of the cushy couch, she silently berated herself for not at least brushing her teeth before she went to sleep. Brushing her teeth had nothing to do with a beauty regimen, she told herself. It wasn’t vanity to want to have a clean mouth and teeth; it was cleanliness. Nothing more.