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Authors: J. M. Blaisus

BOOK: Gatewright
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Calin
whistled.  “Looking into ways?  Short of taking on all the Queens by
yourself, I don’t see it.”

“I
have a little help from my friends.” Jack grinned impishly.

“Ash…”
Calin warned.  “Mikiril is Queen now.  She’s destroyed every opponent
that came against her.  She’s trained against
nagali
harder than
anyone I know.  Don’t be
shecoa.

“Calin!”
Kestral scolded with a meaningful look at Copper.  Oh, so
shecoa
really
did
mean what I thought it did.

“He’s
not taking on anyone,” I clarified. “First, we need to figure out who ordered
or hired the outcasts to kill the humans, Hazel, and Kusay Vaal.”

Calin
slowly cocked his head at me.  “So Kusay Vaal
is
involved.” He
suddenly laughed.  “You’re Jan Leeman!  That’s how you
survived!”  He was sharp, I’d give him that. 

 “The
Girl Who Lived,” I proclaimed. Sadly, my
Harry Potter
reference fell on
unappreciative, pointed ears.

“And
you’re telling me
outcasts
attempted the murder?”

Jack
confirmed it.  “No fey would ever choose to cut their own hair.  They
were outcasts.”

Calin
groaned and leaned backward.  “Oh, this is
not good.

Copper
interjected.  “Don’t you and the priests look after all the outcasts?”

“Except
for the ones who escape,” Calin clarified.

“But
then who would hire escaped outcasts?”  Kestral jumped in.  “Who
would know where they were, and why would an outcast ever jeopardize
themselves?”

“There’s
not an easy answer.  A few things I’ve seen might make more sense,
however.  I’ll nose around and see what I can discover.”  Calin
frowned, eyes distant in furious thought.

“Send
anything you find to Kusay Vaal at Peregare,” Jack instructed.  “I can’t
say when I’ll be back.  But I will be.  I promise.”

 

Jack’s
family spent the rest of the afternoon bringing him up to date on all their
adventures, from how Kestral navigated the tricky waters of Jack’s “treachery”,
to how Calin had signed up for the priesthood, to Copper’s disappointment that
he wouldn’t qualify to study to become
adail. 
Occasionally, Jack
would tell them a story about his human life, but he kept them short and to the
point.  He described his art, and how he had met me, and some of the more
confusing aspects of life on Earth.

“I
was so afraid it was going to be a hell for you.”  Kestral’s eyes were red
again.

Jack’s
face shuttered.  “It was.  And I have to go back.”

“I’ll
be here,” Calin reminded him softly.  “I vow I’ll protect them as if they
were my own.”

Their
goodbyes were painfully prolonged.  Eventually, Jack slowly tore himself
from the cramped home and all the family he had in either world, dragging his
feet across the full length of Delque until we managed to find our little
gate-making spot and hauled ourselves back through.  With heavy spirits,
we returned to our hotel room to sleep off the emotional rollercoaster of yet
another day.

 

Chapter
Twenty-Six

 

I
realized the next morning was Thanksgiving when Rose called me in a huff
shortly after Jack and I hit the road once again.  “Where the hell are you
both?” she demanded when I picked up.

“Coming
back from an impromptu road trip.”

“Uh
huh.  To where?”  Rose had enough attitude for us both.

“Jack
wanted to check in on some people he knows.”  Dammit, I was spending too
much time around Jack.  How had life become a series of
what do they
actually need to know
s?

“Well,
dinner is at four.  Your parents are coming too.  You better get here
on time; I’m not saving any of my mom’s stuffing for you.”

I
couldn’t help but smile at her indignation.  “Thanksgiving sounds
wonderful.  We’ll make it.”  By the skin of our teeth, as long as we
sped the whole way back.

“Okay. 
I’ll see you soon, sista from another mista.”

 

Rose’s
family had a lovely ranch house on the edges of Charlottesville.  The lawn
had been raked recently, the grass a vibrant shade of green.  Lawn gnomes
stood in various poses around bird baths and colorful pinwheels.  The
painted siding was an unblemished, cheery shade of pale yellow.  A white
picket fence completed the ensemble.

Rose
and I had met in our sophomore year of high school, when her dad, Giles
Savatier, got a job as a physics professor at UVA.  They’d come from the
University of Wisconsin, and while Rose’s northern accent had faded, both of
her parents still sounded (to my ears) like Canadians.

Nick’s
Jeep was parked in the gravel turn-around at the end of the driveway, where
five cars were already crowded together.  I recognized Rose’s car, two
older fixer-uppers, and a newer red coupe that I guessed was the professor’s.

Jack
and I were a
few
minutes late, but it wasn’t enough to interfere with my
stuffing consumption.   I opened the door of Rose’s home to a
cacophony.  Dogs barked, running to greet us.  The terrier and the
basset hound crowded my legs as I tried to shuffle deeper into the house. As I
peeled off my coat, Rose’s two older sisters presented their newest
boyfriends.  One was a lanky architect, the other, a thickly-built
personal trainer.   The three Savatier sisters had vastly different
tastes.

The
dining room table had been extended from their large 8-seater to make room for
a baker’s dozen, using a plastic fold-out table and a card table.  The
turkey in the oven smelled amazing, and Vivian, Rose’s mother, was naturally
multitasking, instructing her daughters to set the table and the men to carve
the turkey.  She chattered away at my mother, making her points
emphatically with her spoon.  Jack caught my eye and grinned.  Yes,
watching Vivian and my mother was like watching Rose and me in a few decades.

It
was oh-so-traditional, and I found some comfort in that.  When I tried to
help, Vivian gently scolded and seated me almost as if I was a guest of
honor.  Rose
must
have told them I was fine, but the media could
have gotten it into the Savatier’s heads that I was a victim that had gone
through some kind of ordeal.

I
did feel different, though.  I wasn’t like them… could never be like
them.  I wished they had accepted my help.  I wanted to be back in
that space where nothing had changed and I was just an extra daughter they’d
accidentally acquired.

I
felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Jack standing behind me. 
{We’ve got your back,} he told me, and I consciously released the tension I’d
been holding, letting myself breathe.  I didn’t know if Jack was limiting
himself to the point where he couldn’t hear my thoughts, but I was
grateful.  Whatever I was, these folk were taking care of me.  And
Jack had my back.

We
all devoured the sweet potatoes, stuffing, turkey, gravy, and cranberry sauce
on festively themed dinnerware.  The boyfriends, whose names escaped me as
soon as I heard them, kept sneaking curious glances at me from the corner of
their eyes.  In between glances, they argued over football and next year’s
UVA basketball prospects with Giles and Nick.  Thomas attempted to
contribute, but as the youngest member, each of the other men took the
opportunity to educate him (much to his vexation).

I
paused in the middle of a bite of Vivian’s famous stuffing, distracted by a
sudden wave of apprehension.  I put my fork down, and took a breath,
bewildered.  Fuck.  I was NOT having a panic attack in the middle of
Thanksgiving dinner.  Why?  Nothing had triggered me. 
Nevertheless, it pulled directly at my heart.

“Eyes
too big for your stomach?”  Rose teased, but I could hear the concern in
her voice.

I
pushed my chair back, gripping the table, closing my eyes.  The wave ebbed
for a moment, but resurfaced, crashing against my consciousness.  I took
another breath, forcing myself to think through the anxiety and focus on the
source.  Nothing.  I was here, I was safe.  Not me.  It
wasn’t me.

Riven.

“I’m
really sorry, I think the fast food I ate for breakfast is disagreeing with
me.  Your food is so delicious, but I think I really ought to go
home.”  I looked up and did my best to smile at them.  I hoped Vivian
wouldn’t take any offence.  But this wasn’t about me.  This was about
someone that –
shit
– I cared about, in unspecified danger, over a
hundred miles and a world away.

Jack
rose immediately from the other side of the table.  “I’ll take you home.”

I
nodded mutely.  If Riven’s emotions got intense, I wasn’t entirely sure
I’d be able to stay on the road.  How far did this
lianyos
thing
go?

We
packed up as quickly and as unobtrusively as we could, the dogs confused and
underfoot.  My mother, understandably, fussed over me and offered to take
me home herself repeatedly.  I shook my head, trying to dispel the hazy
fear that was taking root. “I’ll be fine, Mom, I’ll call you in the morning.”

She
let me go reluctantly.

As
soon as we’d shut the door, I bolted for the car.  I hadn’t wanted to
alarm anyone, but time was of the essence.  I had no way of knowing what
was happening.  But if I could feel his emotions this far away, I wasn’t
going to take any chances.  I would
never
forgive myself if he was
harmed and I’d simply sat there eating turkey.

Jack
matched my pace, and sent gravel flying as he gunned Sadie down the
driveway.  “Let me guess, we’re going to Roanoke.”

“Something
is seriously wrong.  And I don’t know what.”  I couldn’t keep the
panic from my voice.

Jack
pressed down on the accelerator.

 

The
next two hours felt like an eternity.  I gripped the handle of the car,
gritting my teeth until my jaw ached.  Jack wove between cars, receiving
honks and glares from folks on their Thanksgiving holiday.  “How bad is
it?” he asked quietly.

“I
don’t know.  I’m still not familiar with being
lianyos
.”

“What
exactly is he feeling?  I’d rather not poke around in your head while I’m
driving.”

“Fear?” 
I ‘listened’ harder to the bond between me and Riven.  “Anger.”  I
wrinkled my nose.  “Maybe…” Like any good Jedi, I searched my
feelings.  “Dread.”

“That
should give us some time,” Jack reassured me.  “So long as it’s not terror
or desperation.”

“That’s
a cheery thought,” I shot back, yet it
was
marginally comforting. 
“Any guess what’s happening?”

Jack
swerved again and a semi blared its horn.  “Any number of things.  My
binding might have been discovered by another
nagali
.  They may
have found out that he is
lianyos
to you.  Or something completely
different.  Perhaps assassins have attempted to strike again.”

As
we approached, I was able to separate myself from his emotions more
easily.  An odd inverse relationship developed… I could feel his emotions
more clearly, but confused them less with my own.

“Thank
you, Jack,” I murmured.  “You don’t have to do this.”

“What
you fail to realize is that I owe you a debt,” Jack grumbled.  “More than
you know.”  He spared me a smile.  “One day I’ll tell you.  For
the present, suffice to say, I’m in your service.”

What
had I done?  Was it because I’d brought him to his family?  It was
Jack.  Despite everything, a smile of my own twitched my lips. 
Answers from him never came easily.

 

As
we got off the highway, finally in Roanoke, the steady diet of fear I’d been
fed through the bond suddenly transformed into white-hot fury.  I cried
out in surprise, the whiplash unseating the little control I’d developed.

“What?” 
Jack asked, making a rolling right turn at a red light.

“I’m
going to fucking murder whoever is on the other side.”  Probably with
Riven’s help, from the feel of it.  Another breath, and I regained my
thoughts.  He was perfectly capable of defending himself.  Either he
was incapacitated, or he was roasting people alive this moment.  The
intensity of the emotion made anything else unlikely.

Jack
hurtled down the residential streets, and I commanded him to stop at the
construction site.  To my frustration, I couldn’t tell where in Peregare
Riven was, just that he was close.  I jumped out of the car before it
rolled to a full stop and dashed off across the uneven terrain.  Jack
followed a few steps behind me as soon as he’d locked it.  I didn’t waste
any time, but ripped open a portal in broad daylight and stepped through to
Riven’s bedroom.

Immediately
my sense of him was brought into focus, crystal clear compared to the blurry
impressions I had on Earth.  He was on the other side of the manor, and
not in the dimly lit, undisturbed bedroom where I stood, panting.  No clue
of what might be causing the chaos.  A flash of recognition through a
blaze of rage.  He knew I was here. 
Hold on, Riven, I’m coming.
 
I jumped back through my portal, slamming it shut, and ran into Jack.

“Don’t
follow till I know I’ve got the right spot!” I yelled at him, in panic more
than actual anger, and started sprinting across the neighborhood.  A tall
wooden fence reared up in my way, and without thinking, I simply made a gate,
almost tripping as I stumbled through the empty fey kitchen, closing the portal
behind me, then gating back to Earth three steps later.  Reckless, I
pelted around a house, across a street, gating around each fence or gully that
threatened to keep me from Riven.  I hated that closing each one slowed me
down, but it was still faster than attempting to navigate the obstacles on
Earth. I had enough presence of mind to close the gates, but not enough to
leave them open for Jack.

I
wielded gates left and right to move myself toward him as fast as I
could.  The few fey that saw me pass stared after me with wide eyes,
stunned.  Right now, I didn’t care who saw me, on either side. Each time I
jumped through, my sense of where he was refined my target.

My
last gate was in the middle of a street.  Riven was on the other side.

I
burst through to Azry and had only a second to take it all in.  The throne
room reminded me of the circular Judgement Hall in Emor.  A tall, stone
chair sat in the middle of a labyrinth made of small channels of water. 
Uniformed fey lined the chamber, watching the action in the center of the
room.  At my entrance, their focus swiveled to me in surprise.  A
male fey, the leader of the group judging by his elaborate clothes, stared at
me in bewilderment.  One half of his long, blue hair had been woven into a
thick braid.  Riven knelt not ten feet from him in the center of the
room.  Two red-headed
atsili
with iron expressions restrained him,
gripping his arms and shoulders.  A third
atsili
froze in
mid-action, primitive scissors motionless.

Riven’s
red hair lay butchered around him in a shining circle on the labyrinthine
floor.  His jewelry was nowhere to be seen.

No
time to think.  Any hesitation, and I would be as crispy as a chicken
nugget.  I bolted across the twenty feet between us, ignoring the cries of
alarm that rose around me, and threw myself against Riven like a
linebacker.  The force of my impact dislodged his two guards, and
reflexively, I gated us the hell out.

I
made the gate at an angle, and fell only two feet before we slammed into the
earth.  The wind rushed from my lungs.  I forced myself to keep
moving, and closed the portal with a choked yell of pure adrenaline.  Not
done yet.  Other gate.  I hauled myself to my feet, and dashed into
the street from the lawn we’d landed in to shut that gate as well.

Gasping
for breath, I stared at my shaking hands, beyond numb from buzzing.  I’d
done it.  I’d gotten Riven out.

I
turned and jogged back to where Riven lay on the ground, face scrunched in
either pain or concentration, or both.  His skin was even paler than
normal, coated with a thin sheen of sweat.  I knelt next to him and took his
hand, and hissed slightly.  It was
hot
.  “Riven, you’re out.”

He
didn’t respond, but I could still feel incoherent rage pouring from him. 

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