Read Gatewright Online

Authors: J. M. Blaisus

Gatewright (25 page)

“I
couldn’t find you on this side.  Just an open gate.  I looked,” he
continued.

Something
felt off, besides my own long-held fury with him, but I couldn’t put my finger
on it.

“I
know you might not be ready for a while, but I’ll teach you everything I know
about gates and the gatewright bloodline,” he finished.

I
bit back an insult and nodded instead.  “I’ll call you next week.  I
have an appointment later today.”  Driving to Charleston and making a gate
for Jack, I failed to add.  He’d
love
that.

He
bowed his head in acquiescence, and with curt farewells, I made a tiny gate to
ensure the restroom was still empty before enlarging it and crossed back to my
world. Ishmael, if he was telling the truth, had some very valuable
information.  Someone was willing to put a lot on the line to force a
gatewright into service in the first place.  If it had been me, I would
have either moved or just stabbed the
nagali
and popped her body through
a portal somewhere.  His willing obedience didn’t sit right with me. 
And then, suddenly, he’d stalked my movements through Azry and closed my
gate?  It wasn’t adding up, and I made a note to talk with Jack about it.
 Exile or not, Jack had a proven track record of looking after me.

One
thing did bother me.  Exiled, female
nagali
in this world were not
exactly common.  I did the math as I shut the gate behind me and left the
coffee shop.  Cheryl had arrived twenty years ago.  That’s when Ishmael
had left me and Mom.  Coincidence?

And
would Jack tell me the truth?

Chapter
Twenty-Five

 

I
was
tired
of packing up.

Jack
and I agreed we’d spend two nights in Charleston.  It was over a
seven-hour drive, and we’d need daylight to navigate Azry.  Flashlights
weren’t exactly an option.  My duffel bag got reloaded with the last of my
fresh clothes.  I hadn’t even had time to unpack from my last
adventure.  I ought to start keeping a “go bag” on standby, since this
looked like it was becoming a common occurrence.

The
attack on Jack nagged at my mind as I tried to concentrate on not missing
important items.  Everything had happened so quickly, but it bothered me
even more than Cheryl’s appearance.  I knew I was supposed to be defraying
tensions, but at this point, I wasn’t sure what I could do.   The
last thing I wanted to do was make it worse.  Kim would have had the media
eating out of the palm of his hand by now.  I’d escaped attention by
hiding in a military hospital, getting a new address, and abandoning my cell
phone for great periods of time.

I’d
never seen Jack nervous before, but he gripped the wheel tightly and attempted
poor jokes the entire drive down Interstate 95.  Halfway through North
Carolina’s endless parade of flat land and rows of trees, I finally demanded
that he let me drive.  Now with the authority of the driver, I blasted
country music to drown him out the rest of the way.

We
arrived after nine, crashing at the Hilton by the airport.  After last
night’s festivities, I was more than glad to get some extra sleep.

 

The
logistics of getting into Delque, one of the largest Becot cities, challenged
both of us.  We had to ensure we didn’t land on top of any fey, while
still hiding from human eyes.  Jack and I spent most of the morning
loitering suspiciously in neighborhoods, bickering over the appropriate spot.

We
finally agreed to make the jump behind an assisted living facility, a
sprawling, modern one-story complex that looked just right for a nice cup of
lemonade and a porch swing.  The woods directly behind it served as a
great screen, and we concluded we’d only be safe jumping back to Earth when
night had fallen and no one would spot us.  I crossed my fingers that
Sadie wouldn’t get towed by overzealous management.

The
sun beat down warmly, so much so that I took three steps before I turned back
and left my jacket in the car.  The fifteen degrees between here and
Charlottesville made a world of difference.  We tried to look
inconspicuous, as if we’d just visited a family member, and strolled to the
edge of the woods.  Behind a few trees, we looked both ways, suspicious as
hell, before I cracked open a small gate horizontally on the ground.  Jack
bent down underneath, then peeked through upwards.  If someone saw a face
hovering a foot off the floor, they’d probably have a heart attack before they
screamed for help.  In that time, Jack planned to intervene with his
nagayos
power.

He
pulled his face out of the gate and nodded to me.  “All clear.”

I
closed our peek-a-boo gate and opened a proper one for us to step
through.  Jack went first, and as soon as I stepped into Azry behind him,
I closed it hastily.

“Keep
still,” Jack murmured, placing both hands on my head.

As
he worked the binding that would make the fey assume I was a perfectly normal
resident of the area, I took in my surroundings.  We’d landed between two
fey homes, conical wooden frames coated with plaster and shingled with
bark.  Judging by the quality, we were on the outskirts of the city. 
One predictable aspect of the fey… the most extravagant homes were always to
the center of town.

Azry
was slightly cooler than Earth here, but not uncomfortable.   Perhaps
a study of Azry would finally lend irrefutable proof of global warming. 
The air smelled of dirt and swamp, with a vague hint of the sea. 
Children’s laughter drifted to me on the wind, followed by neighbors hollering
greetings to each other as they went about their errands.  Still, the
relative quiet was deafening.  No cars, no planes, no irritated humans
honking at each other in their desperate attempt to arrive home five minutes
earlier.

Jack
finished, squinted, tweaked something above my shoulder, then nodded in
satisfaction.  {It’s the best I can do, considering you’re not remotely
fey.  And don’t speak.  I can’t hide your terrible accent.}

I
opened my mouth to protest but remembered to shut it just in time.  I
glared instead.

Jack
gritted his teeth.  {Don’t worry, I’ll subject myself to listening to your
thoughts.  I hope there aren’t any
nagali
around, you’re like a car
horn that won’t turn off.}

Asshole.

{Just
doing what needs to be done.  Now let’s go and I’ll see if I can’t figure
out where Kestral is.}

How
had I not known her name before?

{Because
you didn’t need to know.}

Typical.

{Ok,
as soon as we get back, I am teaching you to learn to shut up.  Actually,
no.  Riven’s good at that.  We’ll make that his job.}

At
the thought of Riven, I instinctively felt for the connection at my
chest.  Being back in Azry brought it into focus.  Other than the
fact he was far to the
north,
I couldn’t make out much
more than vague confusion.  Oh well.

We
moseyed down the dirt road, Jack casually nodding to the fey we passed as if he
knew them.  All part of the charade.  I knew he had his own
“no-see-em” binding, too.

He
paused, as if listening, when we came to the main square, then veered to the
right, to pleasantly greet an older fey
amayi
.  “Good
afternoon.  I was wondering, have you seen Kestral today?  I meant to
deliver a package of fruit this afternoon but I must have missed her at her
house.”

The
fey shrugged.  “She’s been spending all her time at the temple. 
Can’t say why.”

Jack
thanked him, and steered us both away.  {This doesn’t sit well with
me.  Temples are for the poor and those seeking sanctuary.}

 

The
Temple was easy to find.  Imposing obsidian monoliths encircled the top of
one of the tallest hills in the city.  Small wooden and plaster buildings
clustered at the edges, leaving the interior of the Stonehenge-like design open
to the air.  Thin, deep channels of water had been laid out in a complicated
maze, which took me a minute to identify as a labyrinth. Was the earth or the
water the labyrinth?

A
few larger buildings with clean stone edifices on the outside of the labyrinth
caught our attention.  A young man in pale yellow fey attire, wearing a
gaudy amount of jewelry, stopped us hurriedly before we reached it.  A few
other, older, fey, likewise wearing a ridiculous number of necklaces and
bracelets, paused in their duties to watch.

“Hold,
hold!” he panted.  His hair was dyed bright green, by the obvious brown
roots that contrasted sharply.  “What’s your business?”

Jack
paused, opening his hands at his sides.  “Greeting in the name of the
Great Mage.”

“You
are a follower of Kaiyo.  Why are you here?”  He glared at us.

Gee,
Mary the Church Scribe was looking a hell of a lot friendlier than this
lot.  A sudden stab of inspiration.  I opened my mouth and tried to
form a word.  “Mah-ah-ager.”  I pretended anger and frustration.

Jack
figured it out instantly.  “I’ve been caring for her for the past year but
I can’t support both of us anymore,” he pleaded.  “I’ve been looking all
over the city for her father’s sister.  Her neighbor said that Kestral has
been spending a lot of time here?”

The
young priest’s eyes shifted warily and his guard remained up.  “Follow
me,” he ordered us.

We
obeyed.

{I
don’t want to have to break his mind, but there’s not a lot I can work with
right here.} Jack growled, frustrated.

Patience,
Jack, I thought.  Patience.

He
led us around the edge of the labyrinth, toward a smaller building off of the
main circle.  Thin window slits welcomed the Southern breeze, but obscured
my vision of anything inside.  Jack stumbled suddenly, grabbing for my
shoulder.  {She’s here, she’s right inside there.}

Calm
down, Jack.

{But
that’s not it.  There’s another in there.  No, I don’t believe
it.  I
refuse
to believe it.}

The
door opened as soon as the priest tapped on the slight wooden door, and a tall
elohi
with dark robes and equally dark eyes quickly scanned past the priest and
settled on us.  He paused.  I stared.  If I’d ever wondered what
Jack looked like before he was exiled, I now had my answer in front of me.

“Return
to your duties,” Jack’s splitting image told the priest in a strangled voice.

Our
guide scowled at us and strode away.

Jack
and his mirror still hadn’t moved.


You’re
the one looking for her?  They told me it was Kusay Vaal.  How
did you… it’s impossible.  But it’s you.”  Jack’s clone shook his
head, incredulity warring with joy.

“Calin.”
Jack’s voice was warm with affection.  “I’d never thought I’d see
you
in the gems of the priesthood.  Certainly not as the
ras
of the
elohi.

“Who’s
there?” I heard a light, feminine voice
call
out from
the darkness.

“You’re
not going to believe this,” Calin warned her, stepping aside.  I followed
Jack inside, practically invisible.

The
interior of the wooden home was neat, illuminated by the streaming
sunlight.  The main room, with a simple couch and cabinetry, was spacious
enough for a single person, but a makeshift cot against the wall changed the
dynamic from cozy to cramped.

Kestral
was as delicate as Cheryl was sturdy.  Long blue hair hung well past her
shoulders in graceful waves.  Her eyes had a certain sharpness to them
that contradicted her soft mouth.  She stared at Jack as if he were a
stranger.

“Calin?”
she asked, slightly confused.

Jack
swore, and I could tell the moment he undid his binding.  She shrieked and
stumbled backwards, clutching the wall behind her.  “Ash?” her voice
cracked.  “I don’t believe it.  No.”  She started to weep.

Jack
said nothing, just stepped forward to wrap her in his arms as she
collapsed.  Ever so gently, he brushed her hair from her face, closing his
eyes.  He may not have been
lianyos
to her, but it was pretty damn
clear that he loved her.

Calin
finally seemed to notice me.  “Who are you?  You’re not what you seem
either.”

I
froze with indecision.  Jack, understandably, seemed rather
preoccupied.  What was I supposed to say?

Calin
frowned.  “You’re not even fey, are you?”  Then his eyes
widened.  “You’re a gatewright,” he breathed.

“How
did you know that?” I asked in consternation.

Calin
cocked his head.  “How
else
would Ash have gotten here?”

I
decided not to mention anything about the Apostate that Cheryl had
mentioned.  Jack hadn’t spoken very highly of his parents, and I wasn’t
sure how this new relative fit in.

“How
rude of me, I haven’t introduced myself.  I’m Becot Calin, Ashad’s younger
brother.”  He offered me a warm smile.  “Thank you so much for
bringing him back to us.  We are in your debt.”

Fey
debt?  I would definitely keep that in mind.

Another
fey, a lanky teen with dark brown hair and long, arched ears, rushed through
the door.  “Mom, I heard you had
-“ he
cut himself
short as he took in the situation.  “
DAD?”
Copper looked less like
his father than Jack’s brother.  A round face framed almond eyes.

“I
had the chance, I had to see you both.”  He offered his palm, and his son
cautiously took it.  Jack gazed as if memorizing Copper’s face, one arm
still wrapped tightly around Kestral.

How
the hell was I getting him home?

 

We
sat down, Calin and I sharing the limited space on the cot, Jack and Kestral
attached at the hip on the low couch, and Copper uneasily seated on a stool by
the door, cautiously keeping a lookout although Jack had already assured him
he’d know if anyone is coming.

Kestral
was fascinated by Jack’s human features, tracing her finger down his jawline or
stroking his arm in wonderment.  Not outright attraction, but a puzzled
study of her husband’s transformation.  “How long will you be here?” she
asked him, fearing the answer.

“Just
until nightfall.”

“Then
he turns into a pumpkin,” I joked lamely, but Jack’s family just stared at me
blankly.

“Sounds
like one of Ash’s jokes,” Calin graciously saved me.

Kestral
nodded with a sad smile.  “Until nightfall then.  You’ll come back
regularly, right?”

Jack
shifted uncomfortably, and I cut in.  “No.  He wants to be your
husband by rights.  Sneaking in like this could get you
all
hurt. 
So, we’re looking into ways to get his sentence reversed.”

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