Seeker’s heart thudded. Relkan. This was his friend and if he could just get his frozen legs to move, he could do something to help him. Do something. He pushed himself against the rock, legs trembling but holding him upright, and managed a single step when several things seemed to happen before his eyes at once.
Rook swung her blade in an arc towards Relkan, who managed to jerk out the way just in time that the steel slid through his upper arm and severed limb from body. Relkan lunged away from her with a garbled laugh, eyes rolling in his head. Lyss stepped from her own cover behind a tree and fired her gun, the resounding bang assaulting his hearing and making him flinch.
When he opened his eyes again it was to Relkan on the ground with a hole through the centre of his forehead, smoke wafting from the barrel of Lyss’s gun as she stood over him with hard eyes. She looked up, possibly hearing his own thudding steps as he stumbled forward, blood rushing in his ears. He had been going to do something – he’d been going to –
Now that her target was down Rook kept charging forward, aiming for Lyss this time. Unprepared, Lyss fumbled with her gun to try and reload but she didn’t have time as she ducked out of the way of a swinging blade, rolling into dirt and mud.
Alik attempted to distract her as Lyss crawled away but Seeker could see how pale he looked, and how clumsy his feeble movements were, easily swept away by her sheer and overwhelming strength. While they battled Seeker fell to his knees by Relkan’s body, hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking at the sight. It was utterly horrific, seared onto his eyelids to be played over and over in quiet moments. The grey, sunken flesh, peeling from bone. The eyes that stared up at the sky, swollen and yellow. The arm lying palm up next to the shrine wall, black blood congealing from the wound. He gagged, a tear spilling over his cheek.
Then, because things could somehow only get worse, the pointer finger on the attached arm twitched and the eyes rolled. Seeker leaped back with a gasp, falling onto his hands as Relkan’s body began to shake. Seeker watched, waiting for the body to rise again, but just as suddenly as it had moved, it stilled again, sprawled out in the dirt with black blood oozing from its wounds, the smell pungent and eye-watering.
That bright fire appeared again, twisting and turning into a ball of red and blue before it stretched out into a face like the one he had seen in the forest, laughing. It flew closer and he yelped, falling, near enough for him to feel the faintest tingle against his nose, hands clutching the ground with all the desperation still left inside him. It seemed to hit against some kind of invisible barrier, grin shortening and Seeker would almost have described the expression on the creature’s face as puzzled.
Not yours. Mine.
The creature shrieked and dispersed in a puff of light. Seeker collapsed in fear, breathing heavily. He lay on the ground with the stones digging into the flesh of his back and stared up at the lightening sky in exhaustion as the melee raged on around him. Maybe I’m already dead and this is the Netherworld. It made more sense than this being any version of reality.
Another scream finally convinced him to roll onto his stomach and watch as Janus, clutching his stomach with bloody fingers, managed to jam the butt of his gun into Rook’s temple and knock her out, catching her slumped body with one hand. Alik moved past him when he spotted Seeker on the ground and trotted over, eyes flicking between him and the body.
As he got closer, Seeker saw that swirling mass of flame over his head. No, he tried to scream, throat closed over. Above you! No! He managed a strangled cry that only seemed to confuse Alik and then he whipped his head upwards, eyes widening just a fraction before the flame plunged into him, making his whole body quiver. For Seeker it was only confirmation. He had somehow died and was now in the Netherworld and everyone was suffering because they deserved to be punished for daring to bear names when they had proved themselves unworthy.
Alik’s whole posture changed in an instant, head rolling to an awkward angle as his lips spread across shining teeth that glowed blue, a cackle escaping past them that had Seeker huddling into himself instinctively. The whole moment seemed to stand on a knife’s edge as he stared at the thing inside Alik’s body. Then, with a howling moan into the sky, Alik took off in a blur, disappearing into the trees before anyone could react.
Part 2: The Awakening
Once they arrived at the Order’s house, Rook sank into a chair away from the rest of the party, feeling numb. She stared at the blade on her lap, still smeared with blackened blood and grime, wondering what this meant for her. I lost control again. How could she ever consider herself any kind of protector if she could lose control of her own body like that? And Alik… her mind supplied. She tried not to think of him but she couldn’t help it. He’d been possessed and she hadn’t even been conscious to stop it.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she saw Janus lug over to her table, face ashen as he clutched his stomach, a bottle in his other hand. It spurred her into action, unable to sit still for long. With quiet steps she approached him, hesitating when his dark eyes flicked up to her too quickly.
“Let me help. Please.”
He must have heard the desperation in her voice, or maybe he was just in too much pain to do anything himself, but he nodded and pushed a tin towards her. She flipped open the lid and rifled through some basic medical supplies, unspooling metal thread for stitching the wound. It felt good to focus on the menial task over her own troubled thoughts, losing herself in the motions of cleaning the ragged gash across his abdomen with alcohol and then sewing it up with quick, precise strokes.
“You don’t flinch,” she noted, simply to break the heavy silence that loomed over them.
“No,” he said, taking a swig of the bottle. “This helps.”
“Thank you. For, you know…” She waved her hand, for lack of words.
He didn’t say anything and she continued to work until she had sealed up the wound, snipping the thread and wiping back her sweat-drenched hair from her forehead. “You’re probably going to have a nasty scar because of my stitchwork. Sorry.”
Janus shrugged. “What’s one more to a collection?”
Sure enough, his torso was marred with thin white lines and knots of scar tissue that looked like old bullet wounds. What kind of life had he lived to write this kind of story upon his skin? She looked up at him again in question, attempting to read the answer from a closed off face as his eyes went back to surveying the room. It wasn’t her business, she reminded herself as she stood and dusted herself off.
“You are a beserker.”
It wasn’t a question but she felt compelled to answer, “Yes,” all the same.
Janus nodded like this was a perfectly normal conversation. “How is it that you lose control of your body like that? Must be formally contracted, no?”
She blinked, surprised that he knew of such things. I do not even know where he’s from. She did not know what he had seen or experienced, but it was unusual to meet anyone who knew of contracts with riftspawn, especially someone not born of the Myrliks. He knows you’re a beserker and he’s not running away. That in itself was unusual. Perhaps it would have been wiser to be more guarded around this stranger, but she was tired and frightened of how the others would react. His lack of judgement was refreshing.
“Perhaps it is simply in my nature. That’s what most people would say.”
“Hm. Find those kinds of arguments unconvincing.”
“I wish I could guarantee the others would say the same,” she said with a rueful smile, sitting down beside him. “I can’t tell if you’re wise or naïve.”
Janus offered her the bottle. “Easy mistake to make, I’m told.”
Despite herself, she felt a laugh escape her. “I won’t pry into your history, friend, but I can’t deny I’m curious.” She took a drink and relished in the burn as it went down her throat.
“You’ll have to continue being curious, then.”
She followed the line of his vis
ion and felt the warmth instantly freeze over. In walked Kilai and she looked positively fuming, brows drawn and mouth quirked down. Rook grabbed the bottle as if it would save her from what was about to ensue. She envied Janus’ ability to fade into the background, knowing how she stood out in any room. What she wouldn’t give to be invisible for a day.
“Cheers,” she mumbled as she stole another gulp of liquor.
Janus nodded, throwing her a mock salute.
Rook waited for the inevitable scolding with the bottle gripped tight between her fingers. She would deserve every word.
*
“How in the Locker did you manage to screw up that badly?”
The entire party – now consisting only of Rook, Janus, two soldiers and Viktor himself – flinched under Kilai’s spat words. She was perched on a creaky wooden stool but managed to make it look like a throne as she levelled that imperious gaze upon each of them in turn, lips pressed into a tight line. No one seemed willing to speak and Viktor couldn’t blame them. What was there to say? He still wasn’t sure what he’d actually witnessed. He still couldn’t believe it was real.
“Someone tell me what actually happened.” Somehow Kilai lowering her voice was worse than the shouting.
“It shouldn’t have been that strong,” Rook finally said, eyes distant. “The rift must be more unstable than I thought. I’ll need to write to the Order in Tsellyr and––”
“What was it?” Viktor asked, shivering at the memory.
“I think it must be a Gorgei. It’s the only thing that can fit that description but I’ll need to check the library again.” She shook her head and muttered to herself. “I should have realised with Dhakar Mir. He was theorised to be one.”
“You shot him,” said Seeker, turning to a pale-faced Lyss. “You killed him!”
“I had to or we would all have been killed! Your friend was already gone!”
Seeker cringed, reeling back from her with a murderous glint in his eyes. “As if you even knew that! You just shoot first and ask later. He might have… We could have…” he trailed off at the silence of the group around him, jaw clenching as he looked away.
“Does this mean that Alik – will – is – you know,” Viktor stumbled over his words, waving his hand to fill their absence.
Rook seemed to get smaller, shoulders hunching as she wrapped her hands around her shins. “I don’t know.”
Kilai rubbed her brow. “Does anyone know anything? How can you kill this man and the spirit still lives?”
“It just finds another host to possess,” said Janus.
“Riftspawn can possess inanimate objects and even dead things, but this creature must be so strong it needs a living link to keep it on this plane,” added Rook. “It’s looking for a way to stay in the physical realm permanently. If it is a Gorgei, we’re dealing with an even more dangerous level of creature than I’d imagined. It shouldn’t have been able to get through the rift.”
“That doesn’t really help me when I have people on the streets trying to set fire to my father’s offices because this thing is running rampant. Can I even trust that any of you can actually handle this?”
Viktor struggled to meet the weight of her stare, running his finger around a sticky ring of alcohol on the wooden table in an effort to look preoccupied. He felt sick to his stomach and every time he closed his eyes it was that ghoulish face that loomed in the darkness behind his lids. To know that thing was out there and could easily take over his body made him want to get the first boat off this island. This wasn’t what he signed up for. Viktor had just wanted to escape his situation but now it appeared that he’d picked himself out of the gutter only to seal himself in the Locker instead.
Not to mention the way Rook had tried to kill him. He was currently sitting as far away from her as possible without drawing attention to himself but he couldn’t forget the way her eyes had glazed over as she had risen from the ground, or the complete focus with which she had tried to take his head from his shoulders. It was like for a brief moment she had been possessed the way the soldier had, her own aura appearing around her like smoke on the wind. She seemed to be back to normal now but Viktor was still wary, bracing himself in case it happened again. Every so often he would catch her out of the corner of his eye and the memory froze him in place.
“We should probably talk about you,” said Lyss, looking at Rook. “I might not know a lot about this but I recognise a beserker when I see one.”
Rook’s eyes widened. “It was just a mistake. I’m not – I’m in control.”
“Are you?”
“Is this true?” said Kilai. “You are what she says you are?”
Her eyes flickered back and forth between them. “I’m not – it’s not what you think – I have a proper contract.” She waved her palms in defence. “It’s not like that. I did it under the jurisdiction of the Order.”
Viktor watched this exchange unfold, not understanding any of it. He nudged Janus as the women continued to argue, voices rising over one another whilst Rook began to panic. “What are they talking about?”
Janus didn’t look at him as he spoke, softly. “Contracts can be made with riftspawn. Work similar to possession but do not kill the person, by allowing for a kind of equal exchange between their energies. Riftspawn can then exist in the physical form, and in theory the person in the spirit realm beyond the rift. Together they’re not quite either. Something like both spirit and human.”
Viktor frowned. “What? So she has one of those things inside her?”
“She bears a contract made with a riftspawn, yes. “Beserkers’ are those whose body can be taken over by the riftspawn fully when they lose control. Has been known to happen and why the process of contracting riftspawn largely died out a long time ago.”
“Why would anyone want to do that?”
“For abilities it affords. From my observation she has heightened senses and strength. Also means she cannot be possessed by malicious riftspawn like the type we encountered.”
Viktor watched as a pair of soldiers came over and grabbed Rook by each of her wrists. She tried to protest but eventually slumped and let them haul her up.
“I’m sorry,” said Kilai, “but it is illegal for a beserker to roam free. I cannot in good conscious let you away if I know this. I’d be strung up by my own people.”
“Write to the Riftkeepers! Tell them what’s happening!” she called as they pulled her away.
Viktor stood up. “What are you doing?”
“Sit down, Viktor,” Kilai sighed. “Trust me when I say I don’t relish doing it, but needs must.”
“How are we supposed to kill the thing that can possess anyone without Rook or Alik?”
“You’re creative. I’m sure you can work it out.” She paused as someone scurried up and whispered in her ear. Pursing her lips, she stood and looked them all in the eye. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on your progress. If you don’t have a solution by then I’ll find someone else to do the job.” With that said she strode off, leaving Viktor to look between the other three.
Lyss stood too, chair scraping as she did. “Don’t look at me. I have nothing to do with this.”
“So, you’re what? Just going to run out now, are you? Bang, I’ve killed a man. Who cares about the rest of it?” said Seeker.
Lyss’s eyes flashed as she leaned down over him. “I don’t care about your petty jealousies, Seeker. I’m sorry about your friend but that wasn’t my fault.” Viktor could see that the skin around the knuckles of her hand had turned bone white, pressed against the back of his chair and trembling slightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.”
Seeker huffed a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Curse your name, then,” he murmured, eyes squeezed shut.
Viktor opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, looking down at his own shaking hands. What now? He didn’t have enough money for passage on a boat but maybe if he worked off the cost of the trip as a deckhand h
e would be taken on and he wouldn’t have to go back. Then what? Rifts existed everywhere, and what if the same thing happened wherever he went? What if I’m cursed? As miserable as he felt in the moment, the idea seemed increasingly likely.
Janus rose and went to the bar, returning with another bottle and three stacked glasses. He poured a sizeable measure into each glass and then downed his own in one go, wiping the back of his mouth with a satisfied noise.
“What are you doing?” said Viktor, eyeing the glass in front of him dubiously.
“When everything goes to the Locker the best thing to do is drink.” Janus shook out a pouch of tobacco and began to roll it up in a piece of paper. “One day at a time, Vik-ka. Only way things get done.”
It seemed like reasonable advice to his exhausted brain and he couldn’t help the small flood of elation at being called such a heartfelt term for friend. Viktor drained the glass in one go before he could even taste what he was drinking, coughing and spluttering as it burned his throat, eyes watering. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”
“How you know it works.”
Viktor laughed despite himself and glanced at Seeker who was still staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression, like the watermarked constellations held all the secrets of the universe. “How about you, bluebell? Are you going to help with this?”
Seeker narrowed red-rimmed eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
Viktor just nudged the glass over to him. “You could get your revenge.”
“All right. You got my attention.”
Viktor reached for the bottle to pour another round of drinks. It was weird given the situation. Here he was, having just narrowly escaped death at the hands of both a spirit-infused soldier and a beserker, now drinking with another soldier and the island’s most mysterious gunslinger, and yet he couldn’t help but feel like it was nice to be included in something. To be a part of a group. I should count my blessings and get out of here, he thought to himself as the liquid sloshed into the glass, but I don’t want to leave. Who else would understand what he’d just been through?
The Broken Door Page 13
