by S A Edwards
“I think it knows that,” Siren said, directing his gaze to the creature. “Don’t you?”
As if in answer, the cat rubbed its head against my leg, and the boat slid away from the dock.
Heat caused my cheeks to flush, but knowledge that this time I wasn’t alone to cross the lake comforted me, and I turned my thoughts instead to the road ahead.
26
The cat trailed behind in the overgrown field, pouncing every now and then toward the fireflies. Occasionally, its paw would catch the rear end of the creatures and a spark of light would crackle.
After two days of travelling through fields and forestry, my legs ached and the supplies in my pack had dwindled. Thankfully, water never became an issue since I drew it from the soil, the foliage, or a river whenever the need arose.
Wild, ankle-length grass tangled around my foot and tripped me for the fourth time. After the better part of a day the difficult terrain weighed on my legs and depleted my energy. “Isn’t there a nice, easy path to take to get to this Gate?” I asked.
Siren smiled. “There is, but it passes through a village and by three other Gates, each occupied by a Hellion. I thought it best to avoid them.”
“No arguments there. So, what’s through the Gate we’re going to?”
“A secret passage to the Might.”
“There’s a secret passage? But if the Gate fails, won’t it be open to anyone who wants to go there?”
He laughed. “No. It’s protected.”
“Of course, it is.” I should have figured.
He plunged back beneath the trees and wound between thick roots and knotted shrubs.
“I wonder which one I am,” I said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Which Keeper. There are two, aren’t there? Light and Dark. I wonder which I am.”
“Oh. Would you have a preference?”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. Light would be good because the Dark ones are creepy. But if I was a Dark Keeper, I could make sure no one used the bad Gates.”
“I’m not sure it works like that,” he said. “Anyone with a right to enter would have to be granted passage.”
“Well, not by me. Not if I can stop the wicked people doing bad things.” Like Kyne. “I don’t suppose I’m bound by the same laws the other Keepers are. I wasn’t born a Keeper, after all.” At least, I felt no different than usual.
The ground ended suddenly, dropping down into a deep, wide chasm. Mist clouded the shadow-filled bottom, and off to one side, a narrow strip of rock jutted out and led along the edge of the sandy-coloured cliff, like a path.
“Don’t tell me. This is the way we need to go,” I said. Hadn’t we faced enough heights by now?
“It is the only way to the Gate.” Siren reached for my hand. The cat hissed, and Siren jerked back. “I am attempting to calm her,” he said.
“Why do we explain ourselves to it?” I asked. “It’s just a cat. What more can it do?”
He shrugged. “Just a feeling. I want to stay on its good side.” He turned back to the path. “You needn’t worry. I will be with you. I won’t allow you to fall.”
It didn’t seem like I had a choice. If I failed to learn to control my Keeper gift, I couldn’t rescue Charlie. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Siren led the way, strolling along the path.
I edged after him, and the cat trotted behind. It struck me that it didn’t appear to be phased by the height, but then, this wasn’t an ordinary cat.
The day dragged on. We stopped once to eat and drink, but Siren was keen to press on, wanting to reach the clearing by the Gate before nightfall.
Several hours later, the path ended, and a small shelf jutted from the cliff. A crack opened onto a winding trail cut between the rock, leading farther inland. Relieved to be away from the drop, I slipped inside.
Daylight began to wane, and the moons lit up the sky between the first stars. I pulled on my Refiner gift, allowing orange flames to dance across my palms. Darkness flickered in the crevices of the walls, and the light distorted our shadows.
The trail widened. Boulders dotted here and there blocked our path, forcing us to climb and weave, and the need to rest sapped my energy.
One of the boulders shifted ahead.
I blinked but it didn’t move again. Strange. Probably just a trick of the fire.
The cat hissed. Its hair stood on end, and its eyes narrowed. Its whiskers and tail quivered, and sharp claws extended from its paws.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Siren stopped, too. His stance grew tense. “These are one of the protections I mentioned.”
The boulder moved again, confirming my previous suspicions, and then turned. A creature with long, shaggy fur and gleaming blue eyes blocked our path. Low growls emanated from deep in its throat. Movement from above revealed more of them, each identical and each as vicious.
“Clara,” Siren said, “you’re a –”
“Fire hounds,” I realised, and my fear dissipated.
“I was going to say Refiner, but I see you’ve caught on.”
“There are fire hounds back in my world, too,” I said. “They protected the Refiner Capital, and only Refiners could control them. So, I assume the same is true of these?”
Siren nodded.
Amicus said he had only met one other Refiner before me, which explained why this Gate was so well protected.
“You can wield fire, too,” I said. “Doesn’t that make you a Refiner?”
“I’m not sure mine counts. My flames don’t follow the same pattern as other Refiners. At least, that’s if memory serves right.”
The creature slunk forward.
My flames changed to blue at my silent command, and the hound ahead faltered. I sidled past Siren, hand outstretched. These were no tame creatures, yet I could touch them if I wished. If these ones would let me.
The hound staggered, and then dropped to its stomach, head dipped low as though it were bowing.
I knelt before it and placed my hand on its rough fur. It pressed its head against my hand. “We mean you no harm,” I whispered. “We just want to get to the Gate.”
Its gaze met mine, and then it stood and padded back. All along the top of the cliff, the hounds retreated and moved out of view.
“Nice job,” Siren said.
“Just don’t touch it.” I wasn’t sure whether he remembered their danger from his time in the egg, and although I could heal him, I’d rather he wasn’t attacked.
“Of course.”
The trail led to a wider clearing where the path ended. Rock surrounded us on all sides, towering beyond our reach. The moons dominated the sky, the light of each beaming into the space.
My flames diminished, and I stared at the rocks. “Where’s the Gate?”
The cat curled up on top of a boulder and watched in curious silence.
Siren leaned against the wall. “It’s hidden. Use your gift to find it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Focus on your instincts. Allow them to use you.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. A stab of power caught my attention, tugging from behind. I turned toward it, allowing it into my mind. The urge to embrace it called to me, begging to be pulled open, to be revealed. I willed it to spread, to show what lay within.
I opened my eyes.
The wall changed, revealing another path leading down into the blackness. “I did it.”
A wave of tiredness washed over me.
Then, the air shivered, and the power within me seemed to crack, sending a stab of pain through my ribs. I staggered and clutched my chest. The magic died, but the opening remained visible in the wall.
I gasped at the air. “I think the Gate just failed.”
“It’s okay.” He hurried to me, but after a sharp meow from the cat, kept his hands by his side. “We expected this to happen. I believe if you can close it, restore it, you will master your Keep
er ability.”
I rubbed my aching chest. “I don’t think I can.”
“Can you try?”
I rubbed my arms against the growing night chill. Tiredness pressed against my eyes, but I fought to hide it and nodded.
Facing the Gate once more, I extended my mind to it, searching for any trace of the magic it previously held. There it was. Faint but definite. A ball of white in my mind. I reached out to it, willing it to grow, to return to its proper place within the Gate.
It rippled closer. The air shivered again. Then, the glow of the ball turned black.
“Something’s wrong,” I whispered.
Power gripped me with unyielding force. My breath caught in my throat. Pain flared through me. My back met the ground.
“Clara!”
The power disappeared as quickly as it had come, and I inhaled deeply.
Siren crouched over me, eyes wide with panic. The cat leaned on my arm, its wet nose nudging my cheek.
“Did it work?” My words scratched at my throat. “Did I restore the Gate?” Despite the pain, if I’d succeeded, I’d be one step closer to rescuing Charlie.
Siren’s expression revealed the answer before he spoke. “No.”
27
Islumped against the wall beside the failed Gate, still weakened. The exhaustion brought back memories of my fatigue when attempting to master the other gifts. I thought I’d passed that stage.
What had gone wrong? It seemed so simple to restore the Gate. For a moment, it appeared to be working. In my mind, at least. Was the unbalance growing stronger the longer I remained here?
Siren sat opposite me with a white-flamed fire burning between us. The rocky ground appeared to have been made for fire. The ground caught quickly and burned with flickers of blue, purple, and violet, yet no scorch marks seared the stone.
The vicious cat made it impossible for Siren to sit near me. Its acts of aggression every time Siren attempted to touch me were what set him beyond the fire. Weird as it felt, I could have used his comforting influence now, and I found myself missing the little newling once more. At least those few days with him in the Might brought some semblance of peace. Now, the reality of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders.
Without the mastery of my Keeper gift, how was I to rescue Charlie? I could open the Underworld Gate, but without being able to close it, the danger only increased. Would the Keepers be willing to help? Doubtful.
I grabbed my pack with a sigh and tugged out the book. The lock held fast, and the sharp edge of the metal binding glinted in the moonlight.
I’d searched through the book every night since starting our journey two days ago, and each time I hated the sting that accompanied having to cut my finger.
Pages of information overwhelmed me: herbs, potions, images of other unfamiliar creatures, though I was careful not to touch any of them. The last thing we needed was to pull something else from the pages. Especially if that thing was dangerous. But despite my searching, I had found nothing to help Charlie or for me to master my gift or to restore the Gates. Of course, I’d only looked through a tiny part of the thick book so far.
The cat leaned against my leg, his warmth nothing compared to Siren’s. “Is there another way to get into the book without having to cut myself?” I asked.
The cat peered up at me.
“Right.” I frowned. “Well, I have to know about you.” Bracing myself, I slid my finger across the binding. Pain slashed through my flesh, and blood dripped from the cut. I wiped it over the lock.
It melted away.
Grimacing against the sting, I flipped open the cover.
Writing filled the pages in stunning detail, spaced out here and there with symbols and drawings. I could have been looking at the actual items, trapped within the walls of the pages. Perhaps that’s how it was. The cat had, after all, come from the book.
I reached the familiar sketch. There was the cat, drawn by the hand of a masterful artist, each stroke the exact match of the creature that leaned against me now. “I can’t keep calling you cat,” I said. “Do you have a name?”
As though in answer, it rested one paw on my leg and touched the page with the other.
A small paragraph of characters unfamiliar to me lay above the image. Like before, the writing shivered, shifted, and changed to my home tongue with the heading ‘Chimera’ etched above it.
“Chimera? That’s your name?”
It lay back down again without so much as a nod.
I turned back to the paragraph and started to read.
The Chimera, Guardian of the Nephilium, will spend his lifetime protecting the one who calls him forth. All must be warned to keep distance from the Chimera, for his wrath is fatal.
“That explains that feeling of yours,” I said.
Siren’s attention shifted from the fire.
“Come and see.” I pointed at the page.
He made his way over, focus on Chimera, and peered at the writing. “It still amazes me to see such an old dialect. It is so rare.” He ran his fingers across the letters. “You can read this?”
“I couldn’t at first, but they changed to my language.”
“How interesting.”
“Haven’t they changed for you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I read many languages, so I can understand it, but I wonder if the words transformed for the same reason that only you could see and open the book.”
“But we still don’t know the reason for that.”
“Mm.” He scanned the paragraph.
Chimera rested his head on my arm.
“Oh, yes. I remember now,” Siren said. “I will have to gain the Chimera’s trust before he’ll allow me to touch you again.”
“But he’s just a cat. How can he protect me?”
“Appearances can be deceptive. The Gates have proved that through their beauty. Perhaps, in time, he will see I am not your enemy.” He moved away from me again and settled against the wall.
“Do you remember anything else? Anything about this Nephilium people?” I asked.
“My memory of the time within my egg is fading fast. It is frustrating, but it must be so.”
“Why?”
“That kind of knowledge would be too much to bear. I will have to learn again as I grow.”
I stared at the fire and yawned. After the long journey of the day and my battle with the Gate, my energy ran low. Under the knowledge that fire hounds patrolled the trail, I allowed sleep to take me.
*
A deep blackness built before me like the uncontrollable magic of the Gate. It guided my path, eager to be followed, to grow, to be released. It filled my whole body, tingling with anticipation, with the promise of relief.
The world shivered, and the magic within me cracked like shards of glass through my chest.
I gasped and jerked awake.
Trees surrounded me on every side and reached to a thick canopy. Silver light slipped through gaps in the leaves and pooled on the floor. A flawless stone path led between two, upturned roots, and an uneasy silence filled the woodland.
Fireflies buzzed, brushing against the leaves, then scattered, disappearing into the night.
The whole place held a simple beauty, and that fact alone had my stomach turning. “Siren?”
A dark figure rushed past me.
I whirled but saw nothing. My heart pounded, and my breathing amplified, misting in the air before me.
Then, a sweet, eerie song filtered through the trees.
My legs froze.
Yellow eyes appeared ahead, their owner cloaked in black. An evil presence emanated from it, almost matched by the dark power of the Gate I sensed moments earlier.
A Hellion.
It glided closer, the sweet singing unrelenting.
Absolute fear clung to my muscles, tearing away my cries of help before they were uttered.
I longed to call my flames, my ice, my water, anything that would help me against the creat
ure, but they refused to rise. Every instinct screamed at me to flee, yet my body stood as useless as the trees on either side.
The Hellion shifted closer, black pupils just slits in its orb-like eyes.
A rush of white streaked beneath the canopy. Siren folded in his wings, dodged around the trunks and dropped Chimera between the Hellion and me.
The tiny guardian spat and hissed, claws extended. His wails screeched over the Hellion’s song.
Siren landed and transformed back into his human form. “Get your hands over your ears!” White flames shot from his palms at the monster, highlighting its wrinkled, grey skin and blood-stained rags. Its tune faltered just long enough for me to clamp my palms over my ears.
Strength returned to my limbs.
Chimera shoved his body against my shin, urging me toward Siren. The Ancient changed again, and his claw wound around my middle.
The Hellion darted closer, stretching out gnarled hands. Its face distorted, stretched over what could only be broken bones.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I called my flames, shooting a burst of searing blue at the creature.
It screeched and curled backward, rags billowing in the heated blaze.
I grabbed Chimera, and Siren took off, burst through the canopy with a roar, and carried us over the treetops.
I clung to Chimera. What was going on? We’d been at the Gate. How did we get here?
The forest passed in a blur for ages before Siren dipped into a clearing and deposited me on the grass.
He landed a short way down the field, transformed, and then raced toward me. He grabbed my shoulders, sending heat through my muscles. “Are you hurt? What happened? Why did you leave?”
“Leave? I didn’t, I mean, I don’t, I was sleeping. I just woke up and,” – I stared at his hands – “you’re touching me.”
He backed away.
Chimera remained in my arms, tail flicking.
Siren knelt until his face was level with Chimera’s. “So, I’ve gained your trust, now?”
He bowed his head to Siren.
“Does this mean he’ll protect you now, too?” I asked.
“I doubt it. He’s only meant to guard you, but at least now he knows I’m your ally.” Siren straightened, and a troubled expression drew out his frown. “He woke me. Light surrounded you like a whirlwind. Then, you vanished. It was he who led me to you. It was like he knew exactly where to go.”