The Broken Door

by Sarah Stirling

  “It points towards the temple.”

  She nearly jumped at Janus’ rasp behind her. “You can tell?”

  “It slopes towards the east,” he said. “Follows the same line as the path into the heart of the island.”

  Her mind stuttered. “Didn’t Alik say that the Illuminated believed in something about the importance of the east?”

  He scratched his chin, darkened with stubble. “Something about the journey beginning in the east and ending in the west. Then coming back?” He shrugged, hugging Rook to his chest in the same motion.

  She threw him an imploring look. “I’m trying to figure out the connections here, Janus. There’s so much we don’t know about our own history and its connection to the otherworld.”

  “Never bothered you before.”

  “It hadn’t been a problem before.”

  Janus walked past her as she continued to investigate, footsteps echoing in the cavern. “As interesting as this is, my arms are numb.”

  Kilai shook her head, stealing one last look at the carvings in the dancing red light of her lantern. Then she tore her gaze free and followed the sounds of his shoes and the smell of brine until she spilled out onto the black shingle of the cove, nestled into a smaller cutting of the black cliffs than the valley on the other side of the slope. The water lumbered towards the sand and then reluctantly pulled back in lethargic lulls, but overhead the clouds were rolling in, shrouding the moon from view. Cast in the blood red of her lantern light, the shore took on an eerie cast, as if she’d left the real world in the tunnel behind.

  “Where’s the kid?”

  Janus had put Rook down on a slab of slick rock, pooling with saltwater and running down in rivets. He was standing by the dingy that she had dragged up behind the outcropping, the marks where Viktor had been only vague impressions in the sand.

  “Rook said he’d been injured. He can’t have got far.”

  Janus’ coat flapped in the wind as he gazed out to sea, eyes hard. “Will be hard to navigate with the skies obscured.”

  “I know. But I’ve sailed these waters before.”

  “Might not help you.”

  “Someone must play the optimist if our partnership is to work.”

  His lips quirked and he jumped down onto the sand. “Forgive my transgression.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “Come here, please.”

  She approached his side as he peeled back Rook’s bandages to inspect the wound and she grimaced at the blood shining black in the light of her lantern as she held it up, training her eyes on Rook’s face. Pale lashes fluttered.

  “’M I still alive?” she croaked, hand batting at her arm.

  When Kilai took her hand it was cold. “You’re just fine.”

  Janus pushed something past her lips. “Chew.”

  Rook wrinkled her nose.

  “Don’t spit it out. Chew it. Will ease the pain.”

  With a tense jaw, Rook chewed, grip tightening on Kilai’s hand enough for it to hurt, but she didn’t say anything. A strong grip was probably a good sign for her chances of recovery. So she held on, rubbing soothing circles into her skin as Rook swayed and fell into Janus’ side.

  “We should try and get her into the boat.”

  “You want to try lifting her?”

  Kilai gestured down her body with a hand. She was a whole head shorter than Rook and not particularly strong at that. It was pretty unlikely she was capable of lifting her, even if she wanted to. “I’ll go and look for Viktor. Teamwork.”

  Janus raised his brows and then sighed, massaging his arms. “Suppose I’ll be pulling the boat down, too?”

  She flashed him a saccharine smile as she pulled away, clambering over more formations of black rock with clumsy movements. In the gloom it was difficult to see what she was doing, scraping her arm when her hand slipped from the wet surface of the rock, stones clattering down and pelting her face. If she made it out of this alive she was owed a nice warm bed and a few days rest to sleep it out. If only the world would just hold off on all its problems for few a days to allow her that much.

  Perched atop the rock, she could see little beyond the black mass of ocean stretching endlessly into the dark. The clouded sky above made her nervous – she caught glimpses of the stars beyond – but it would be like trying to navigate a map worn away by time and seawater. It felt cruel that she’d been through everything she had only to fall now, before she could reach Tsellyr, but despair cast a taint upon her thoughts.

  Climbing down the other side of the rock, she tugged on her skirt as it caught on a jagged edge, beyond the point of caring when it ripped away and exposed her ankles and calves. She wiped at her grimy face and kept moving, even if she didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for. Footprints would have washed away by now, lost to time and tide. If Viktor had abandoned them then perhaps it was for the best. He had just obliterated an entire warship with his strange green fire and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in his presence, anyway.

  “Who’s there?”

  She whipped around, stifling a scream as she found herself face to face with Viktor himself. Her hand was clutched to her chest, over her thundering heart. “Where have you been?” She willed herself to calm but her treacherous body disobeyed.

  “I woke up here on my own and I didn’t know what to do, so I went to see what was going on. I thought maybe you had all left me after, uh, what happened earlier.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, mouth quirked.

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  “They’re monitoring the bay to stop people coming in or out.”

  Kilai pinched the bridge of her nose and gritted her teeth. “Of course they are.” She heaved the sigh from her shoulders and gazed out to sea as if she could see anything beyond its inky depths.

  “What do we do?”

  “We go as planned. It’s dark out and we can skirt the bay as much as possible.”

  “What if––”

  She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shh. Let’s get back to the others and then we’ll panic. Hm?”

  She heard the sound of Viktor’s footsteps squelching in the sand as he followed her. “What happened when I was out? I couldn’t find any of you.”

  Kilai examined the rocky outcropping with her hands, searching for stable holds so she could climb. “Chaos. I honestly don’t quite know myself. And you…” Flames, unnatural and terrible. How to even find the words?

  “Ah.” He fell silent as they climbed, punctuated by soft huffs of breath. It seemed they were both tired. “I had no idea, you know. That I could do that. Or even if I can do it again.”

  Kilai didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. “Let’s keep focused on our escape. They’ve been executing criminals on the spot.” Her hands kept slipping on the rock, both from the darkness and her own exhaustion. By the time she reached the top she had to pause to catch her breath, eyes catching on the red glow of her lantern below.

  “Can they really do that?” said Viktor in a small voice. “You can’t just – without a trial – even if they are criminals – it’s not right.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  She managed the climb back down the other side, dropping the last few feet onto the sand, where she stumbled and folded in on herself. Viktor reached for her hand to help her up and she snatched it away on instinct, guilt seeping in as hurt flashed in his eyes. Despite everything, she could see no bad intentions in him, and it wasn’t fair to blame him for something beyond his control. The heart, however, tended to win the war over the head.

  “I found him,” she said instead, lurching down to the waves, following the trail in the sand left by the boat.

  Janus’ silhouette turned and nodded. He reached out and clapped Viktor over the shoulder with a calm that made her envious. “Time to go. You ready?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  “Good enough.” He made a neat bow and gestured to the boat as if he were some kind of manse
rvant and she huffed a laugh.

  Viktor gasped and shoved past her. “What happened to Rook?”

  “Shot.” Janus prodded him between the shoulder blades. “Help push.”

  Kilai shot him a warning look. For all they knew he could be volatile. It wasn’t a good idea to stir up his emotions. “She’s going to be all right,” she said as she pushed the boat onto the water. The lie sank heavy in her stomach but she shoved the feeling into the motion, air escaping through her teeth in a hiss. She jumped in as it began to bob and water sloshed against the sides, wobbling like a spinning top.

  Viktor followed, clutching the sides as it rocked. “Does she heal? Like me?”

  “No,” she said.

  Janus splashed into the shallows, grabbed the edge and swung his legs into the boat. With the four of them it sat low in the water, cresting the waves caused by their jumping. He moved Rook’s head onto his lap as he flopped down against the wooden bench, leaning back against it as if he no longer had the energy to hold himself up.

  “Am I to be left to getting us out of here?”

  Janus cracked open an eye. “You’ve slept in the last two days,” he murmured, eyes closing again.

  Kilai shook her head and moved to the stern to operate the rudder. She could navigate herself out of the strait between the cove and the island but once they hit open water they would be at the mercy of the ocean and the brewing storm. At least her father had made sure she knew how to sail. She sent a prayer to the sky for him. Not knowing whether he was currently alive or dead was a cruelty she didn’t have room to dwell on. Yet it wasn’t easy to herd stray thoughts when they escaped her.

  Beneath the wind loomed a humidity that spoke of the gathering clouds overhead. What they were doing was foolish and reckless and all the other things she did not like to be. And yet. Here she was, attempting to defy a sea, and a storm, and an empire all at once. Strange, how the whisper of air sounded like freedom. Adventure had always called out to her but she had never dared answer until circumstances pushed her to it.

  The boat skipped over the waves, water spraying against her flushed skin. It had been too long since she’d last been out to sea. She shrugged off the last of fatigue and settled herself in for the journey ahead. She didn’t know what it meant that she could not distinguish whether her beating heart was from fear or freedom but she let the feeling engulf her, breathing in the sea air. This was it.

  *

  Viktor was too stressed to sleep. Across from him Janus’ head was bowed into his chest, lolling with the waves, Rook sprawled between them. His hands were clenched tight on his thighs, the woven fabric of his trousers bunching beneath his fingers. The boat rocked as it hit the crest of a wave, seafoam spraying into his face. His stomach churned, the motions disorientating. Humans weren’t made to be on the ocean otherwise they would have developed fins, as far as he was concerned. The back of his throat burned as he felt his insides trying to come up and he groaned.

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  Viktor turned to examine the intense expression on Kilai’s face as she studied the choppy horizon. His tongue swiped across chapped lips. “Don’t think I want to.”

  The air was damp and hot despite the strong wind against his face and he shivered even with the layer of sweat moistening his skin. A purring of thunder soon rolled into an ominous rumble and he looked up just as the first drop of rain fell cool against his flushed skin, eyes shutting on reflex. He heard Kilai curse and cracked them back open.

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  Her eyes flickered between him and the horizon, lips tight. “We might survive the storm. If we’re lucky.”

  “And if we’re not?”

  She grimaced. “You’ll be sleeping with the fishes. Permanently.”

  Viktor shuddered. “If we survive?”

  “If we survive you can thank whichever god you pray to.”

  He sighed, trying to settle against the groaning wood. Rain was falling harder and harder, seeping through his clothes and chilling him to the bone. As welcome as it was against the swelling heat, he felt more uncomfortable than ever. Somehow Janus and Rook were able to sleep through the rain as it pelted them. It only made him feel resentful.

  “What is that? Can you see?”

  Viktor blinked, wiping his eyes and peering through the haze. At first he wasn’t sure to what she was referring, but then he thought he saw a light winking through the falling rain and he leant forward, squinting. The boat continued to lurch across the waves, jostling him this way and that so that his teeth clacked together and his spine banged against the wood. There. A lantern from what could only be a ship ahead.

  “The lantern! Put it out!”

  The wind grew in force, whistling in his ear and making his sodden form shiver. Viktor could barely see but he managed to glimpse the red of the lantern and he crawled on his hands and knees, cringing as the boat swayed perilously to one side. He felt his grip slip, fingers scrabbling against the wood.

  “Don’t let them see us!” Kilai cried.

  Viktor tried to turn his neck to snap at her but he was buffeted by the wind, saltwater stinging his eyes. A hiss passed his lips and he kept crawling towards the red lantern that had been left at the bow of the ship. Was it moving? His eyes struggled to focus as it swung wildly in the storm and he gritted his teeth, slipping and sliding towards it. His heart lurched in his chest as he reached out just as the boat hit a strong wave and his torso went careening over the edge, only just managing to grab the edge and throw himself back with the timing of the boat rocking backwards. Frozen in fear, he huddled into the corner, shivering, unsure whether it was tears or saltwater that tracked his cheeks.

  He thought he could hear his name being called over the shrieking storm but he couldn’t find the strength to respond, pressing his knees into his chest as tightly as he could manage. It was hopeless. Viktor was no hero on some daring adventure to new lands. He was just a thief, scared and out of his depth, and now he was going to die in the middle of this watery hell. It was all he could do not to empty the contents of his stomach right there on the floor of the boat, a layer of water sloshing left and right with the frenetic tempo of the waves.

  Viktor pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, using the sting to distract himself as his body was racked with shuddering gasps of breath. He sank further and further into panic the way he was sure to sink into the ocean once their flimsy boat either capsized in the storm or was destroyed by the ship ahead. Deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless abyss.

  Except it seemed there was a bottom. It was the feeling of feet hit solid ground. Breathing evening out, he felt his mind cleanse itself, a deep sense of calm spreading across the infected thoughts.

  With a sudden clarity he could feel his connection to the world at large. To the ocean all around him and the life that lurked beneath the waves. To the people huddled in the boat with him, riding out the mercy of the storm. To the spirits that continued to spill from the rift, strengthening the connection between the worlds. Everything around him was simply an extension of himself; nothing to be afraid of. It was the strangest sensation, like the fear had just spilled out of him, leaving him hollow.

  A flash of red caught the corner of his eye and he glanced up through the rain. The red light hadn’t been the lantern at all. It was his guardian riftspawn, hovering over him and emitting a bright glow through the rain. He could feel its presence too, like warm, flickering candlelight; a comforting blanket of security around him.

  “Hey,” he said, voice hoarse. His hand extended without thought, barely feeling the prickles of cold water against bare skin. A tug on the creature’s thread of energy sent it closer, until its head nudged his palm and then burst through the flesh in a flare of fire that had him reeling back, stars sparking across his vision. When he could see again he felt warmer, stronger, and he found he could see more clearly in the dark, sensing more riftspawn pooling around them from far out. The guardian
riftspawn’s light had dimmed a little, water rippling with only a faint red.

  “Viktor! It’s going to attract attention!”

  The ship ahead. He could feel it and all the bodies within as easy as knew how to breathe. Had he always been able to do this? It felt as if he’d been walking around blind and now he’d finally opened his eyes to the world around him. Each breath he took reeled in the stray riftspawn in his vicinity; he could feel the way they drew towards him like moths to lanterns in the city streets, and he relished in the feeling.

  Kilai’s yelling over the storm forced his attention towards the ocean and his fear was momentarily forgotten as he rushed to the side in awe. The waves were lit by the bobbing lights of riftspawn, mostly small blue lights scattered against the black like a mirror image of a clear night’s sky. Bigger riftspawn danced between, swooping with bat-like wings, coloured a pale violet. More colours flickered beneath the surface but the crash of the boat against the waves reminded his queasy stomach of where he was and he grasped the railing, gagging, before pulling himself back, wiping his mouth.

  Kilai gaped, momentarily frozen. Even Janus had awoken, blinking at the sea with a half-dazed look. Viktor thought he saw Rook’s head stir but his head whipped around as the ship came into view, looming large in the distance. Had they spotted the lights? It would be hard not to notice the commotion around their boat when the waters around them were growing brighter and brighter with the soft glow they emitted. They fluttered around him in the sky, drawn to his presence. Strange, how their presence felt comforting and familiar to him now.

  “The ship! It’s turning!”

  Viktor didn’t know how she could tell with the way the rain distorted his vision and the churning of the steep side of the waves as they crashed into them hard enough to sweep their boat back, so close to capsizing he could look into his own potential grave. The dark shape swayed ahead of them but ploughed on.

  “Could it be an ally?”

  Kilai yelled back but her answer was stolen by the wind.

  Viktor shivered and braced himself for the worst. He didn’t really know how he had managed to set the last ship on fire but maybe if he concentrated hard enough he might be able to do it again. It involved taking in energy from his surroundings, finding the connections to the world around him and tugging on them, as if he were a spider at the centre of a vast web. These riftspawn were here to serve him – he knew that much. With a ragged inhale, he attempted to draw in their energy. The energy flooded through him, warm and heady like a fine liquor.