by K. R. Bowman
Somewhere a bell tolled.
Graham looked up as he tied the rope off, “Shit, we’ve got to get moving. They’re about to close the gates.”
Instead of stepping off onto the bank, Graham stood at the edge of the platform that jutted out into the river. He motioned to Callum, “Show them how it’s done.”
Callum nodded, “Sure.” He shouldered his pack, walked to the edge of the platform, turned to face us, then fell backward with a stupid smirk on his face.
We barely registered what had happened.
Ashlen lunged toward him, but it was too late. He disappeared. We rushed to the edge and stared into the black water. The water only reflected our stunned faces.
Graham laughed out loud, “You should have seen your faces! Got to give it to Callum.” He laughed again.
I stared at him, “What the hell just happened?”
Harris looked up and down the river.
Graham smiled, “There’s a portal into the city right where Callum fell. Remember, we hide portals for safety.” He gazed up at the sky like he was checking a clock, “Okay, guys, you’ve got to jump in now before they lock it.”
The four of us looked at each other. Raleigh conceded first and stepped up. She grabbed her bag, running to the edge and leapt off. Ashlen, Harris, and I peered over the edge. Nothing appeared in the water.
Harris turned to us, “Hum, not about to let a lil girl show me up. I’m goin’ next! See you on the other side, gorgeous.” With a wink, he grabbed both of his bags, stood at the edge, and stepped off. He disappeared instantly—no sound or splash.
“Alright girl, let’s go before they lock us out.” Ashlen tightened her backpack and took my hand. She smiled, “Ready, Freddie?”
I frowned at the black water and sighed, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She nodded, “One, two, jump!”
My skin instinctually waited for cold water to rush over, but instead; I felt the ice-cold air rush by us. The air acted like a vacuum, seemingly trying to suck us down at the same time. Within five seconds, my feet hit a dirt floor. It took a moment to pry my eyes open. Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. I glared. Callum smirked and said, “You’ll thank me.” A second later, Graham landed in the same spot I had been, where I likely would have been squashed.
I stuck my tongue out at Callum’s already turned back.
Graham said, “So glad you all made it.” Something popped above him, and we gazed up. From this side, an oval sized black hole was right above us. The popping noise issued from it, it crackled and popped again, then blinked out.
“Whoa, that was a close call. Next time, everyone needs to move faster.”
I shook my head, “Hopefully, there won’t be a next time.”
We were now inside of the mountain. Rows of crops led to the city gate. Large sun lamps were positioned above the plants, encouraging them to grow. Rows of corn, beans, potatoes, and fruit vines littered the area. A handful of men and women were picking the produce. The city had thick rock walls around the main entrance, but the rest of the city disappeared into the inner mountain. People steadily proceeded toward the entrance. Lanterns hung on each side of the gates, with guards fanned out. Guards scattered everywhere. Graham nodded to each we passed.
We trekked up the path to the main building where the Leader supposedly stayed. At the iron gates, we had to trudge up numerous steep steps. My thighs were on fire by the time we reached the top, and I was breathing heavily. I refused to bend over to catch my breath, though no one would see. Everyone was in front of me, except Callum. Before I knew it, I felt lighter. My bag was quickly being removed from my shoulder. I couldn’t help but stop and smile at the man now in front of me. “I can carry my own bag. I’m not weak.”
“I know,” was all he said and kept going. I stood there, dumbfounded as he walked away. Then I hurried to catch up. How could one man be so infuriating? Rude, grumpy one minute, and then protective and sweet the next.
The castle-like structure was not as big as pictures of castles like the ones that I had seen in books, but it was still overwhelming. It wasn’t Gothic style -- with flying buttresses or medieval; it was square, with rounded edges. It was built to withstand heavy fighting. Graham spoke to one of the guards, who then turned to lead us into the structure, disappearing into the rock. We were walking into the belly of the mountain now. I half expected to see dwarves mining mithril or for Legolas to round a corner.
More Lord of the Rings. Heavy large wooden doors opened to allow us entry. As we went inside, a big living area was the central gathering spot of the building. A fire was lit in the middle with tables and chairs surrounding. Oil lamps and oblong white-blue bulbs hung from the rafters. The interior was rustic. People used rocks to help build and mold it, so there wasn’t much steel or metal used.
A group of maybe twenty people came in from a side door. They were laughing and seemed to be close-knit. One man moved away from the group to make his way toward us. The rest of the people settled around the fire and at the tables.
“Hello, welcome to Kingston. I’m the Leader of these rabble-rousers,” he held his hand out to everyone and shook our hands, “you can all call me Chuck.”
He was tall and lean with simple dark brown pants tucked into black boots and a beige shirt with long sleeves. He looked like the average Joe; medium brown hair a little long that curled over the tops of his ears and chestnut-colored eyes. A medallion hung from his neck that oddly resembled my necklace. I subconsciously touched the necklace hidden under my shirt.
Chuck led us to the tables where the others had assembled and sat at the head of the table so that he could see everyone.
He motioned to a man standing by a door in the far corner of the room, “Tom, can we get some drinks and food for our guests.” The man nodded and disappeared behind the door.
Chuck addressed Graham, “I heard about the attack at Brand’s Camp. Are you sure you are the only survivors?”
Graham leaned on the table, setting his hands on top and cracking his knuckles. His hair fell across his shoulders, “I can’t be completely sure, but when I went back and searched through the wreckage, there were no traces of anyone. Some may have run off into hiding, but I can’t be sure.” He shook his head with a grimace on his face. Without a doubt, Graham’s pain was evident. I was sure, at any moment, tears would fall, but he kept it together. Seeing his pain, I simultaneously wanted to comfort him and kill the monsters that started this.
The Leader nodded his head, “Alright, we will hold a vigil for them tomorrow night. I’ll send a few Hunters over to see what the Nightlins are doing and hopefully destroy them. Maybe we can find some survivors. Any insight on how they penetrated our barriers?”
Ashlen leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Not a good enough reason to use the word penetrate.” She barely contained her snorts.
I fought to keep my giggles under control.
Graham eyed us and shook his head, “Sir, it’s hard to say. As you must have heard, we were attacked before, and over half were badly injured. We were sitting ducks. It happened so fast. We just tried to survive.”
Chuck nodded his head, “You all did a good job. I’m glad you made it here. I’ll get a hunting party for tomorrow.”
“If it’s fine with you, I’d like to be part of that team,” Graham said.
I turned sharply and gaped at Graham. I knew my face was filled with astonishment. Graham glanced at me but focused his attention on the Leader. Callum was staring at me, watching my movements and reactions. His face was void of any emotion. He met my eyes for a few moments, then calmly turned toward the Leader. I clasped my hands in my lap and studied the wood grain of the table, slightly embarrassed that he caught my attention to Graham. But why should I care what he thinks?
“Yes, that will be fine with me. I’ve been getting news from the other side—more reports of accidents and ghost sightings. I’ll need to let them know about this last attack. We haven’t been ab
le to figure out how they’re traveling over. Somehow, they’re traveling faster and through portals that we have no information on. I’m afraid the Nightlins may be making new ones.”
“Making portals? Can they do that? I thought that was impossible?” Graham asked.
“That’s what we are trying to figure out. We have people trying to work out the science on the other side. Since the disappearances of James and Jacob, the Nightlins’ power has expanded. I don’t know if the brothers have something to do with the powerbase or what, but we’ve got hundreds of people trying to find the answer. But I don’t have much hope since we have been searching for that answer for over twenty years.” Chuck rubbed his hand across his face, showing how tired he actually was. He looked around the table and at each of us, “The rest here are either Groundlings or Watchers I’m assuming? Except, of course, Callum.”
“Yes, all of them are Groundlings, for the most part. Sloane here,” Graham poked me with his elbow, “she is not quite a Groundling or a Watcher. She has some interesting anomalies.”
Chuck’s chestnut eyes examined me, “How do you mean?”
Graham nodded, encouraging me to speak. My mouth was locked shut.
After an awkward silence, Graham decided to speak for me, “Well, first, she showed up on her own, transported home, and the next day back, and then it seems her eyes can change to solid white,” Silence followed that announcement. I was afraid to meet Chuck’s eyes, so I glanced at Graham. His golden eyes encouraged me.
Chuck sat for a minute, then replied, “Well, that is something I have never heard. I’ll talk to Patrice, see if she has any idea as to what it means. It sounds as if you are on your way to becoming a Watcher, but I have no way of telling you what the white means.”
“You think the white might mean something?” I faced him. My curiosity was overriding my shyness.
“I’m not completely sure, but usually these things have a bigger meaning than what we initially think. We will go see Patrice, she’s a kind of historian, and she should be able to decipher the meaning or should at least be able to give you some kind of direction.” Chuck smiled encouragingly at me. I had a good feeling about him.
Tom came through the door, laden with lots of food and drinks. Several other servers filed out behind with even more food on platters ranging from bread, fruit, veggies, and several kinds of meat. Plates were passed around, and silverware placed in our palms. People talked amongst themselves, but I was busy thinking over how things kept changing for me.
Lights flickered as we trudged up the stairs. The flames inside the lamps danced side to side, casting long contorted shapes onto the stone walls and steps.The stone steps had seen a lot of use. A path had been worn up the middle. We curved upwards and landed in a small, dimly lit hallway. Callum and Harris had to bend their heads slightly; otherwise, they would have scraped them. The hallway only allowed enough room for two small people to walk side by side. Ashlen’s arm kept bumping up against mine. Chuck led the way down the hall to a once blue painted door. Long strips of peeled paint showed the wood grain underneath.
He knocked loudly and waited for a response.
The door creaked open, and a short old lady appeared peeking around the edge of the door. Her white hair was sparse and stuck out in odd directions. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty, and the glasses perched on her nose had a crack in one lens and were held together in the middle with tape. The eyes behind the cracked glasses were sharp and demanding. A scar cracked the right side of her face. Her eyes settled on Chuck and then opened the door further to allow us room to enter.
Chuck went in, taking a seat on a worn wicker chair in the corner, while the rest of us sat on the floor or on stools. The lady closed the door and locked it, which consisted of a large wooden plank that she slid into place across the door, before turning back and taking a seat in a big green upholstered chair. A tall linear bulb was anchored in the corner. My guess was another Vitamin D bulb. The room was sparsely furnished with the fireplace centered in the room. A small kitchenette was to the right, and a small wooden framed bed was to the left of the sitting area. It was kind of creepy to be in a room with no windows.
“Well, why are you all here?” Her voice was gravelly and tired, but her eyes stared pointedly at all of us.
Chuck replied courteously, “We have a girl here that I think you’ll find her markings to be of interest, and I was hoping you could shed some light on them?”
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her stomach, “And why did you think I would do that?”
“Patrice, you are the one who knows more about markings than anyone else I know.”
“There was a time when you came to see me because you wanted to, not because you needed something.” She glared at Chuck. Her stare was accusatory.
I looked from one to the other. I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
Chuck leaned forward on his elbows, “Patrice, you know why I can’t come to see you anymore.” He glanced at all of us and then back to her, “We can discuss this later.”
She waved her hand as in dismissal and straightened up in her chair, “Which one of these girls?”
“Sloane, could you come over here?” Chuck waved me over to stand next to them.
I got up from my seat on the floor by Ashlen and went over to Chuck and Patrice. I brushed my hair across my shoulders, tugging on the ends, a nervous habit of mine. Everyone had their eyes on me, except for Callum, who thought something more interesting was happening outside the door. Graham met my eyes and smiled with the yellow flames of the fire, dancing in his golden eyes.
Chuck said, “You won’t be able to see now, but her eyes had begun to change white when she was challenged. We are hoping you might be able to share some knowledge on the cause.”
Patrice’s chair squeaked as she got up. Her rough hands pulled my face down closer to her. I had to stop the urge to jerk away. She stared into my eyes, unflinchingly. I couldn’t keep the helpless fearful look off my face, so I just stared back. She jerked away, then grabbed my hands. She turned my palms face-up so she could study them. She traced the lines on my hands, murmuring as she did. I wanted to see Chuck’s reaction, but he was steadily watching Patrice.
“Hmm… for once you’re right, these markings may be of interest.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
She traced a line that ran from my thumb to the other side of my hand, “This marking I have seen before, it usually means a continuance. Fate decided you will become a Hunter, but not without a price. Who are your parents?”
I pulled my hands from her. I’ll be a Hunter? “My mom isn’t part of this realm, and my father, I don’t know who he is or what he was. You’re sure I will be a Hunter?”
Patrice slowly nodded, staring at the floor as if the answer might be there, and turned back to sit in her chair. “Yes, I am sure.” She waved her hand like she was dismissing my question and settled back into her chair, “Your father must be the key. When did he disappear?”
I quickly glanced around the room. Everyone had their eyes fixed on me, waiting for my response. I wasn’t used to talking about my dad in front of so many people. Even at home, mom and I were the only ones that talked about it. If someone ever asked, I would say he wasn’t around and never elaborated.
I took a deep calming breath and replied, “It was when he and my mom were in college together. They had planned on getting married then, one night he was gone. It was a year after they had met. The only thing my mom had of him was this necklace and dagger.” I lifted the necklace from under my shirt and over my head to hand to her then took the dagger out from its holder on my leg.
She took the necklace from me carefully. Her eyes enlarged, filling with astonishment. She examined the necklace then at me and back to the necklace again. Chuck sat on the edge of his seat and stared. It was like they were both suddenly entranced.
“Your father… must have been one of the Sullivan twins. That’s the only
explanation as to why you would have this.” Patrice carefully turned the necklace over to study the designs. She addressed Chuck, “Is that not what you think as well?”
Chuck slowly nodded, “How could this be?” His eyes bore into me.
“Wait, my mom said my father’s name was Jacob Sloane. That’s why she named me Sloane. Why would he give her a different name?”
Patrice was nodding as I spoke, “Jacob was the older brother, by a few minutes. Most of the Realmers are encouraged to give fake names in the Norm to try and keep the Norms far from the Realm.”
“Great, so everything I know about my father is a lie.” Anger bubbled up inside of me.
“He only lied about his name, not about everything else. He lied because we are all made to, so don’t blame him. Remember, he had no knowledge of you. Otherwise, your story would have turned out differently. If he was here now, he would ask you to forgive him, and he would have loved telling you his family’s history,” Chuck’s eyes were pleading with me.
I had nothing to say, just a blank expression. It’s not that I didn’t understand. It was that I was angry that I would never get to have the chance for him to tell me his history. I was going to have to learn from someone else what my family had done, I had lost that moment, and I would never get it back.
Patrice still examined the necklace and dagger.
“With these pieces, you have to know the name to activate the magic within. There is a library below that might be able to help with that. These objects only work for those who share the same bloodline. Your father always had these items with him. If it is the same man, his father’s blood is in these objects, and so is yours.”
Blood. “Someone’s blood is in that thing?” I couldn’t help the queasiness that spiked through me.
She nodded, “It’s how these objects are able to work, and how they are entrusted to only family members. It keeps others safe. If these objects were to get into the wrong hands, they would not be able to wield them.” She carefully handed me the necklace and dagger back. “You must keep them safe from harm and hidden. Not everyone should know that you have these.”