Guardian of the Gate

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Guardian of the Gate Page 18

by Michelle Zink


  I nod, grateful to be led. We make our way through the door and into the inner hallway. Dimitri is beside me every step of the way, and I can no longer imagine bringing the prophecy to an end without his companionship, his loyalty.

  Of course, it is not that simple, but I force from my mind the question that rises again and again in the sea of my consciousness: Where does that leave James?

  The room is dimly lit, though not because it is closeted by tightly shut or draperied windows as one would expect in a sick room. On the contrary, two sets of double glass doors are left open to the warm night air. The breeze off the water sighs against the curtains, causing them to rise and fall with a breath all their own.

  Dimitri remains near the door as I enter the room. Una comes toward me while two Sisters move about in the background. One pours water into a bedside cup. The other shakes out a blanket from the massive wardrobe near the window.

  “Lia! I’m so glad you’ve come.” Una leans in, kissing my cheek. She speaks in a low voice that is not quite a whisper. “Lady Abigail woke up about a half hour ago and began asking for you immediately.”

  “Thank you, Una. I came as quickly as I could.” I look over her shoulder at the figure on the bed. “How is she?”

  Una’s face becomes grave. “The Elders say she may not last the night.”

  “Let me go to her then.” I step around Una and make my way to the bed, nodding at the Sisters tending Aunt Abigail.

  As I come closer to the bed, my steps slow involuntarily. I have long waited to meet Aunt Abigail in person. Now it is a moment I do not want to pass. I steel myself and move forward, though, for what else is there to do?

  When I finally stop at the side of her bed, the stone around my neck begins to pulse with a vibration I can nearly hear. I pull it from within my robe, cupping it in my hand. It is as hot as if pulled from a fire, yet it does not burn the soft flesh of my palm.

  I slip it back inside my robe and look down at my aunt. I have always imagined her vibrant and full of life as she surely was in the time before her illness. Now her skin is as thin and wrinkled as crepe, her form so small it is barely visible under the coverlet. The breath leaves her body in painful rasps, but when she opens her eyes, they are youthful and vibrant, as green as my own, and I recognize her as my grandmother’s sister.

  “Amalia.” She speaks my name almost the moment her eyes open, as if she knew I was standing there all along. “You’ve come.”

  I nod, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Of course. I’m sorry it took me so long. I came as quickly as I could.”

  She attempts a smile, but the corners of her mouth only barely lift. “It is no small journey.”

  I shake my head. “No. But nothing could have kept me away.” I reach for her hand. “How are you feeling, Aunt Abigail? Or shall I call you Lady Abigail as the others do?”

  She begins to laugh but it ends in a series of coughs. “Please do me the honor of calling me Aunt Abigail.” She sighs, her voice fading with melancholy. “It seems a very long time since I was Abigail. Since I was simply a daughter, a sister, or an aunt.”

  “To me, you will always be Aunt Abigail.” I lean in and kiss her dry cheek, marveling that she can feel so familiar.

  The chain holding the adder stone around my neck spills out the neckline of my robe, and Aunt Abigail reaches toward me with one hand, touching the still-hot stone.

  “You have it.” She lets it fall back against my chest. “Good.”

  “What is it?” I am unable to hide my curiosity, even in the face of her illness.

  “Glain nadredd.” I do not understand the words, but they leave her mouth in a sigh of remembrance. When she next speaks, her words are clearer. “It is an adder stone. But not any stone. Mine.”

  I lift my hand and hold it against the stone as if doing so will unlock its secrets.

  “What is it for?” I ask her.

  Her eyes drift to my wrist and the medallion that is visible along the sleeve of my robe. “That.” She pauses again as if for strength. “All the Sisters on Altus have a stone imbued with their magic. Its strength depends on its owner. Mine has protected me from harm, healed me when ill, and bolstered my power when required. Now it will protect you from the Souls, even as you wear the medallion of the Gate. Even as your closest friends fall to Samael’s power. But it will not work forever, and when its power, my power, wanes you must imbue it with your own.”

  “How long will it last?”

  “At least until you reach the pages. If fortune is with us, a bit longer. I…” She licks her dry lips, and I pause in my questioning to offer her water that she refuses. “I emptied myself of all my power, child, and poured it all into the stone.”

  Regret is like a dagger in my chest as I realize the reason Aunt Abigail has fallen so ill; she has given all of her remaining strength to me via the stone. She must have been aware of Alice’s increasing strength, and I wonder if she knew as well about Sonia’s betrayal. I cannot bear to ask if I am the cause of her weakness. Cannot bear to know. And in any case, there is no undoing what is already done. It is far smarter, and far kinder, to use our time wisely.

  “Thank you, Aunt Abigail, but what if it is not enough? When your power leaves the stone… what if I cannot provide enough to ward off the Souls until I can bring the prophecy to an end?”

  Her smile is faint, but it is there. In it, I see the life force that has guided the Sisters for decades. “You are stronger than you know, my child. It will be enough.”

  Her words ring through my memory. In an instant, I am transported back to the morning at Birchwood when Aunt Virginia gave me the letter my mother wrote just before her death. You are wiser than you believe, dear heart. And stronger than you know, Aunt Virginia had said.

  Aunt Abigail closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, they burn with new intensity. “You must uncover the pages.”

  I nod. “Tell me where they are, and I will use them to end the prophecy.”

  She grasps my hand tighter. “I cannot… tell you.”

  I shake my head. “But… that is why I’ve come. Why you asked me to come. Don’t you remember, Aunt Abigail?”

  “It is not memory that fails me, my child.”

  I still don’t understand.

  Aunt Abigail’s eyes roam the room, though she is too tired to move her head. She lowers her voice even further so that I must strain to hear her. “There are… many ears in the Sanctuary. Some of them will use that which they overhear to aid the cause of the Sisters. Others will use it to aid a cause of their own.”

  I look up, noting one Sister folding bedsheets near the window. I do not know where the other has gone, but Una is grinding something with a mortar and pestle and mixing the powder in a glass while Dimitri still leans against the wall by the door.

  I turn back to Aunt Abigail. “But how will I find the pages if you cannot tell me where to look?”

  Her hand leaves mine, grasping my arm and pulling me closer so that I am mere inches from her dry, cracked lips. “You will leave the day after tomorrow. Your father’s trusted companion, Edmund, will see you safely off the island and to your first meeting point. A new guide will lead you for each segment of travel. Only Dimitri will accompany you the whole way. He has been in my service for some time. I trust him implicitly.”

  Her gaze meets mine, and I think I see a twinkle of pride. “No one person will know the way of your journey. Rather, each guide will be responsible for only a small portion of it. Even the final guide will not know his segment is the last. He will be told it is only one of many stops.”

  I sit up, feeling a surge of love and pride for my aunt. Even ill and dying, her mind and will do not fail her. Still, I am not as trusting as I once was.

  “What if one of the guides should abandon us or fall to the Souls?”

  “The guides have been chosen carefully, but you are wise to allow for every possibility,” she rasps. “That is why I am prepared to tell you and only
you what you must know.”

  She motions me toward her, and I lean down.

  “Come closer, my dear.” I position my ear near her lips, and she whispers only one word. “Chartres.”

  I straighten, puzzling over the word. I know I have heard it correctly, but I don’t know what it means. “I don’t — ”

  She interrupts with a whisper. “At the feet of the Guardian. Not a Virgin, but a Sister.” Her eyes dart around the room. “As long as you have crossed the sea, my words will guide you. Should you be forced to continue alone, I trust you have enough now to find your way.”

  I mouth the single word, liking the feel of it on my tongue, and commit the strange phrase to memory. The faintest sense of familiarity lies within it, though I cannot recall anyone ever speaking it aloud until now.

  Una appears on the other side of the bed holding the cup into which she was mixing the ground powder. She smiles sadly.

  “I believe Lady Abigail requires rest now.”

  I look down at my grandmother’s sister. She is already fast asleep, and I lean in and kiss her hot forehead. “Sleep well, Aunt Abigail.”

  Una places the cup on the bedside table. “I am sorry, Lia. Is there anything I can do to ease your sorrow?”

  I shake my head. “Just make her comfortable, I suppose.”

  She nods. “I’ve brewed something to ease her pain, but I don’t want to wake her when she is finally resting comfortably. I’ll watch over her, though. When she awakes, I’ll make sure she is not in pain.” She smiles. “You should rest. You still look quite tired yourself.”

  I do not realize the truth in her words until she says them, and then, all at once, exhaustion falls over me. “Will you come and get me the moment she is awake? I should like to spend all the time I can with her before…”

  Una nods in understanding. “I’ll fetch you the moment she regains consciousness. I promise.”

  I walk on shaking legs to meet Dimitri by the door. He takes my hand, and we step into the hall, closing the door behind us.

  “We should get you to bed,” he says. “You will need all your strength in the coming days.”

  I look up at him as we walk. “What do you know about the location of the pages?”

  His expression narrows in contemplation. “Very little. I’ve only been told to prepare for travel and that you and I, together with Edmund as our guide, will be leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  I nod. Though I trust Dimitri completely, I have already vowed to honor my aunt’s confidence. I will not tell him of the words whispered within the sacred walls of her room.

  “Dimitri?”

  “Hmmm?” We turn a corner, and I recognize the hallway leading to my room.

  “I must see Sonia before we leave.”

  I feel guilty that I have not insisted until now, but I have not been certain of my own strength. I want to believe that my sense of forgiveness is strong enough to overcome anything, but I am still reeling from the shock of Sonia’s betrayal. I suppose I will not know, truly, my ability to forgive her until I see her again. And so, see her I must before I leave Altus, perhaps for the last time.

  Dimitri stops at the door to my room, and I see the working of his mind behind the shadow of worry in his eyes.

  “Are you certain that’s a good idea? The Elders do say that she has improved, but perhaps it would be better to wait until she is completely well and we have returned from our journey.”

  “No. I need to see her, Dimitri. I will not rest until I do, and I really should have done so much sooner.”

  “Nothing could have been gained by seeing her as she was when she arrived on Altus, and the Elders would have forbidden it anyway. But if you feel it necessary to see her before we leave, I will speak to them and arrange for a visit tomorrow.”

  I stand on tiptoe and wrap my arms around Dimitri’s neck. “Thank you,” I say, before touching my lips to his.

  He returns my kiss with barely contained passion before pulling away. “You must rest, Lia. I will see you in the morning.”

  I lean my forehead against his chest. “I don’t want you to go.”

  His fingers move through the curls at the back of my head. “Then I won’t.”

  I look up at him. “What… what do you mean?”

  He shrugs. “I will sleep on your floor if you like, or anywhere else you would like me to stay. There is no shame in it. Not here. And,” he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “I’ve already told you that I will honor your society’s rules whether or not you wish it.”

  There is a remnant of my brain, the one that was instructed by Miss Gray at Wycliffe in all matters of propriety, thet wonders at my own lack of shame, but it is only a candle compared to the fire building within. It is not a fire stoked by my growing feelings for Dimitri. Not those alone. It is lit by my own exhilaration at the knowledge that there may be another way, another path, open to me yet. That my options may not be as limited as I once believed.

  I cannot help smiling. “All right, then. I want you to stay.”

  He opens the door to my room. “Then stay I will.”

  I do not change for bed. Remembering the state in which I woke up this morning, I am not entirely certain I have a choice. Having a man in my room overnight is scandalous enough, even for my own newly burgeoning sense of freedom. Having a man in my room while I am naked, even under the covers, would be impossible for me to justify, even in the mystical world of Altus.

  I make myself comfortable on the bed while Dimitri retrieves blankets and pillows from the wardrobe and spreads them out on the floor. When he crosses the room and parts the curtains over the big window, I discover that it is not a window at all, but a set of double doors like those in Aunt Abigail’s room.

  He opens one of the doors halfway, turning to me. “Do you mind? I like the breeze off the water.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t realize it opened.”

  He comes back to the bed, tucking the thick coverlet around me. “Now you’ll be warm while you sleep to the sound of the sea.”

  He leans in and kisses me chastely on the lips. “Good night, Lia.”

  I feel shy despite our close proximity. “Good night.”

  He blows out the candle by the bed, and I hear him settle into the blankets on the floor. It does not last long, though, for the bed is wide and unfamiliar, and I do not like thinking of Dimitri on the cold floor.

  “Dimitri?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Would it be possible for you to sleep in my bed while… honoring the laws of my society?” I wonder if he can hear the smile in my voice.

  “Quite possible.”

  I am certain I hear the smile in his.

  25

  “My goodness!” Luisa’s voice startles me from a deep slumber. “I daresay you have grown quite used to the ways of the island!”

  I sit up, untangling myself from Dimitri’s arms. He opens his eyes slowly, not at all startled by Luisa’s abrupt morning greeting.

  “Yes, well, for the sake of my remaining sense of propriety, let’s keep this between us, shall we?”

  Luisa raises her eyebrows. “I shall keep your secrets if you keep mine.”

  “I don’t know any of your secrets. At least not any of the more recent ones.” I stretch, fighting the urge to lay back down with Dimitri.

  “A situation I might be able to remedy if you send your heathen island boy away while you bathe and dress.” She marches to the wardrobe.

  I do not want Dimitri to leave, not even for a moment. But I do need to prepare for my visit with Sonia, and I would also like to check on Aunt Abigail.

  I lean down and kiss Dimitri softly on the lips while Luisa digs through the wardrobe, her back turned to us.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  He runs a finger from the messy hair at my temple down my cheekbone and neck, all the way to the point where the neckline of my robe begins. “It’s quite all right. I need to dress and speak to the Elders about your
meeting with Sonia. I’ll be back to fetch you in a while.”

  I nod. “Thank you for staying.”

  “Thank you,” he says, grinning. “It was the best night’s sleep I have had in some time.” He rises from the bed and turns to Luisa, standing at the foot of the bed with a fresh robe in her arms. “The rest of the island already knows of my feelings for Lia. I couldn’t care less if they know where I spent the night, but on her behalf, I thank you for your discretion.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes. Be gone now, will you? I shall never get her out of this room if you don’t leave!”

  “Very well, then.” He smiles, making his way out of the room without further word.

  Luisa bursts into laughter the moment he is gone.

  “What?” I try to feign innocence, but the heat on my cheeks makes me suspect I have failed.

  She throws the robe at me. “Don’t be coy with me, Lia Milthorpe. I know you too well.”

  “I’m not being coy.” I shrug. “Nothing happened. He… honors the laws of our society.”

  The laughter begins as a giggle she can contain behind her hand and builds to a full-fledged howl that causes her to fall onto the bed next to me. I am slightly offended by her mocking laughter but cannot manage a word in my defense or Dimitri’s. Luisa is too busy gasping for air to hear me anyway, and worse, it is contagious.

  I do not want to join her on principle. I am, after all, the subject of the ill-begotten humor. But I cannot help myself, and soon we are both laughing so hard that tears run down Luisa’s cheeks and my stomach folds in on itself in pain. Our laughter subsides a little at a time until we are laying side by side atop the coverlet, our breath coming in increasingly slower heaves.

  “Now that you have had a good laugh at my expense, why don’t you tell me about your night with Rhys?” I say, staring at the ceiling.

  “Well, I can tell you one thing: I do not think ‘honoring the laws of our society’ is” — she begins laughing again — “very high on his list of priorities.”

  I throw a pillow at her. “Very well. Have a good laugh. But while you and Rhys satisfy your less virtuous desires, I think it very selfless that Dimitri cares about the customs of our society.”

 

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