The Gatekeeper Trilogy

by Scott Ferrell

  As he watched, the blackness rippled like a violently disturbed pond. He not only saw it, but felt it, too. Deep down in his gut. It was like his stomach churned with the black.

  His feet moved of their own accord, taking him up the rise to the scar. The climb took only a few seconds and he stood before the gateway as it churned. Something splashed on his shoes. He looked down to find a viscous liquid pouring out of the gateway—its vibrant red coloring visible even in the dark.

  Gaige turned a circle, staring at the liquid run past him and down the rise to the park below. He lifted his head, his eyes going wide as he stared out at Gate City below him. It burned. Buildings fell. Sirens cried uselessly into the night. Tears pushed their way into his eyes.

  “It’s your fault, you know.”

  His heart stopped at the voice behind him. He turned with agonizing slowness back to the gateway only to find it gone. In its place was a large, thick wooden door.

  He looked around to find himself in a dark, dank hallway made of stone blocks. He approached the door, sure that was where the voice came from. His shoes slid on the slick floor as he leaned to look through a small slit in the door.

  A pair of eyes appeared there making him jump back. Bright, shining golden eyes.

  “It is your fault,” the voice said on the other side of the door.

  “I...I didn’t mean to.” Gaige’s voice sounded disconnected like it wasn’t his own.

  “‘I didn’t mean to’,” the voice mocked.

  “I...I.” He frowned. He knew the name of the person on the other side of the door, but he couldn’t recall it.

  The golden eyes narrowed. “Forgot me already?”

  “No,” he squeaked. He mustered what will he could find and said again with more passion, “No! I’m...I’m coming to find you.”

  “Coming to find me?” The voice laughed with mirth that stung with sarcasm. “You’re already too late.”

  “No,” he breathed. “I...I tried. I can’t be too late.”

  The voice laughed again. “You are too late because you’re worthless.”

  “I’m not,” Gaige bit off between his teeth.

  “Worthless!” the voice insisted.

  Gaige’s breath came hard and fast through his nose. Something welled up in him, clouding his vision. Anger. Sadness. Uselessness. Defeat. They all filled the empty spaces inside him.

  “Now you see it!” the voice laughed. “Worthless!”

  His heart slowed to a painfully sluggish beat. His chest constricted and he staggered away from the door.

  “Help me, Gaige,” the voice teased.

  “I...don’t know how,” he admitted, taking sharp, shallow breaths.

  “Because you can’t.”

  Gaige slipped on the stone floor, falling heavy against the wall. His breathing stopped. He couldn’t force air into his lungs. He gaped like a fish on land.

  A hand slid onto his shoulder as light as a butterfly. He looked but found nobody there. Still, the sensation remained. Just when he thought death had inched close enough to take him, another feeling slipped into him. At first, he didn’t recognize it, but it grew inside him. It pushed on him, forcing him to pull himself upright. To stare at the eyes through the slit in the door.

  “I can,” he gasped with ragged breath.

  And he recognized the feeling invading him. Hope. It was hope.

  ***

  I woke with a gasp and sat bolt upright.

  Seanna turned from the birds with a start. “Gaige?”

  I breathed heavily like I had just ran full tilt for several miles—or like I hadn’t been breathing a moment before.

  Seanna crossed the clearing to where I sat next to the now dead fire. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I said breathlessly. “Just a dream.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I said. “What are you doing?”

  The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, but it wasn’t far off. The woods around us were awash with its light. I was kind of surprised Seanna hadn’t woke me earlier. She was always in a rush to get moving.

  “I was communicating with the birds,” she said.

  “Oh.” I took a deep breath to try to steady it. “You can talk to them?”

  “In a way. I don’t chirp at them or anything. It’s a little bit deeper communication than that.”

  “Oh.” I rolled my spare shirt that had served as a pillow into a tighter bunch and grabbed my backpack.

  “They are eager to get moving.”

  “Of course, they are.”

  “They have concerns, though.”

  I stopped stuffing the shirt into the pack. “What concerns?”

  “Our, uh, altitude.”

  “What about it?”

  “Well.” She avoided my eyes, looking out at the trees surrounding us. “They flew so low yesterday for your benefit. They didn’t think you could handle flying higher because of the screaming you were doing.”

  “Great.” I shoved the shirt the rest of the way in. “Well, you can tell them not to on my account. I was just startled.”

  “Ah,” she said. “They will be pleased to hear that. I was kind of surprised you could make such a high-pitched—”

  “Don’t even start,” I cut in.

  She smiled. “Sorry, I had to.”

  “You really didn’t.” I pulled out a handful of almonds and a few peace of chicken jerky for breakfast and closed my pack. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you’re done.”

  “No need to wait.” I stood, dumped my breakfast in my coat pockets, and slung my backpack over my shoulders. “I can eat on the fly. Pun intended.”

  We approached the birds. They fluffed and preened their feathers, acting like our presence meant nothing to them.

  “The one I rode is named Red Beak,” Seanna said. “For obvious reasons.”

  The obvious in the reason was the fact that the tip of the bird’s beak looked like it had been dipped in red paint. Or blood.

  “Yours is her mate, Click.”

  “Click?” That one was a little less obvious.

  “Apparently he is very good with his talon.” She curled her hand to mimic bird claws and brought her fingertips together. “Click.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Great.”

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  I took a minute to try to stretch out my legs and arms. They had grown stiffer after a night of sleeping on the ground. I climbed onto the bird’s back with a little more grace than yesterday.

  “Let me know if you need a break,” Seanna said from the other bird.

  I nodded and managed to not scream when the birds took off without much warning. There was just a slight dip as Click bent his knees and we were in the air, climbing fast. I looked over his neck at the ground fall away from us and tightened my grip just a tad.

  ***

  We flew for a few hours high in the air. It took some time to relax, but I started to get comfortable. A little too comfortable, actually. There was something in the rush of wind that made me sleepy. It reminded me of the times when I was a kid when my parents and I would go for drives. My dad would roll the windows down and the rush of wind would blow on me in the back seat. I rarely made it home after the longer drives without falling asleep.

  High in the air, the wind was colder than those car drives, but relaxing nonetheless. At one point, I caught myself nodding off with a vision of slipping from Click’s back. That jolted me awake, but the sleepiness quickly rushed back in.

  I leaned to look at the ground passing below us for something to do to occupy my mind. My heart fluttered a bit at the sight of just how far up we were. Still, there was a thrill in it. I was riding a bird. A bird! How legit was that? I decided I needed to figure out which character I’d be in Lord of the Rings. Aragorn was always my favorite, of course. Did he ever fly the birds?

  I blinked and looked closer at the trees below. It wasn’t my imagination. They were definitely
getting taller.

  “Hey!” I called out.

  Click turned his head at my sudden shout.

  “Seanna!”

  She turned her blue eyes toward me.

  “Is that your city below?” I asked.

  She nodded once without looking down.

  “Do you want to stop?”

  She shook her head. “No time. We can cover a lot more distance before the end of the day.” She turned to look forward again but glanced back. “Do you need a break?”

  I shook my head and let it drop. I thought she might want to stop for a break with her people, but if she didn’t want to, then I was more than happy to let her pass it by.

  We flew for several more hours. Fighting off sleep became an epic battle of will. I even caught myself rationalizing that I wouldn’t fall off Click if I took a small nap. I’d wake long before I relaxed enough to let go of my hold completely.

  As my eyes drooped, something in the distance caught my attention, jerking in me fully awake. I blinked and looked harder.

  “Hey, Seanna,” I said.

  She looked my way.

  “How about a break now?”

  She looked down, her mouth drawing into a tight line. She hesitated a moment before giving a curt nod. She leaned forward and patted Red Beak twice on the side of the neck.

  The bird’s eye flicked back and forth before letting out a low squawk. She twisted her wings, cutting her speed dramatically. Click followed suit and the two birds circled toward the ground

  As they twisted in the sky, I turned to keep an eye on the long, dark slash across the ground like an open and seeping wound.

  19

  An old friend (Of sorts)

  I climbed off Click and wobbled with a wince when my thighs tried to lock up. The long flight had caused my already sore leg and arm muscles to tighten up even more than they were. I kept a hand on Click to keep from tipping over.

  Of course, Seanna looked no worse for wear beyond her windblown hair as she strode up to me.

  Behind her, Red Beak took wing, launching herself into the sky. Click nearly knocked me over spreading his wings to follow suit. I had the feeling he did it on purpose.

  “Need a break, huh?” Seanna asked.

  “Yeah, I’m really starting to feel it.” I bent over to grab my ankles, trying to stretch out my legs as a show of much I needed the break.

  “And it had nothing to do with us being near Sholto’s swamp?” She pointed toward the dark slash dominating the horizon a few hundred yards away.

  I straightened and reached as far over my head as I could. “Maybe.”

  “I’m guessing you don’t remember him saying we’re not welcome back.”

  “I remember an open invitation as long as I ask,” I said. “It’s you who’s not invited.”

  “Okay,” she said. “You’re going to go in there alone then?”

  I stared at the swamp. It was like the collection dead trees that swallowed light and spit out a stinking mist in its place. We weren’t actually close enough to smell it but I remembered the stench quite vividly. Aoife, Seanna, and I had spent the better part of two days trekking through the landscape bombarded by biting bugs and the fearsome swamp creature could possibly appear from the waters to eat us. Turned out a creature did appear but he was more helpful than hungry.

  Sholto, master of this swamp, was respectful and kind to us. Well, to Aoife and me. He didn’t much care for Seanna but in his defense, he was just returning the feeling in kind. Seanna—all the Ashlings really—didn’t like Sholto’s kind. Where the Ashlings lived and thrived cultivating life into his forests, Sholto and others like him called a land of death their homes.

  Still, he chose to help us. He guided us through his swamp. After the fiasco in Delicia, he helped fight off the Balataur after us and provided giant lizard-like creatures for us to ride to save Seanna’s Mother Tree. He turned out to be quite deadly against the Balataur, looking like a blur compared to the big brutes’ plodding movements.

  We ran while Sholto and Minotaur fought for our escape. I wanted to make sure he made it through the fight and to thank him for his help. A little time in the stench was a small price to pay to do that.

  “If I have to,” I said. “I’ll admit this is one of the few times I’d be happy for your company, though.”

  “Thanks,” she said sarcastically.

  “We owe him a lot,” I said. “In case you forgot, he’s the reason your clan survived. If it weren’t for him, we would have never made it to the Mother Tree in time.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” she said through tight lips.

  “I just want to say thanks. We’ll go in a little ways, see if we can find him, thank him, and then come back out here to camp the night.” I glanced at the sun sinking toward the West. “On Red Beak and Click, we should make Delicia tomorrow, shouldn’t we?”

  She considered it a moment and gave a short nod.

  My stomach unexpectedly clinched. During the day’s flight, I’d had plenty of time to think about what might happen with my return to Daresh’s shadow. It was a risk I was willing to take. Without my Gatekeeper abilities, he had no reason to want me—other than revenge maybe. Surprisingly, that wasn’t what made me want to throw up. That distinction belonged to the thought that we might not find any clue as to Aoife’s whereabouts. Delicia was my one and only lead. If she wasn’t there...

  “I never really told you why the Ashlings hate the lizard people like Sholto,” Seanna said.

  “Yeah you did,” I said. “You cultivate life while they live in death.”

  “That’s only part of it.” She shook her head. She wrapped her arms around herself as if chilled, stared at the swamp. After a moment, she jerked a head toward it. “That used to be a living forest.”

  “Yeah, that’s obvious,” I said with a shrug. “So?”

  “You don’t get it. It used to be a living forest.”

  “I know—” It sunk in mid-sentence. “Wait, this used to be an Ashling forest?”

  “It died out long before I was born,” she said. “But, yes. A neighboring clan. One of the few we still harbored good-will towards and bartered with regularly.”

  “What happened to…oh.”

  She must have read my face correctly. She nodded slowly. “Their Mother Tree died. There were whispers among my clan that foul play was at work.”

  “You think somebody killed their Mother Tree?”

  She shrugged. “We don’t know. We likely never will. Their people chose to stay and die with their forest instead of seeking asylum with other clans like mine.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Yes,” she said distantly. “I have found that humans lack the ability to comprehend the bond Ashlings have with their forests.”

  “That’s a little narrow-minded,” I said.

  “Is it? I saw some of the destruction leftover from the earthquake in Gate City. Homes damaged beyond the point of livability if not completely tumbled to the ground. It’s been over a year and those homes have not been repaired or rebuilt. What do you supposed happened to the people that lived there?”

  I shrugged this time. “I don’t know. Moved somewhere else maybe.”

  “Exactly.” She sighed. “If something like that were to happen to an Ashling clan, they would rebuild on the spot. Do you know why?”

  “The Mother Tree?”

  “Roots are deep within the Ashlings. It would be like if those people left their mothers in those destroyed homes while they moved away to a safer place.”

  I nodded an understanding. “But, stick around and die?”

  She sighed again. “It is hard to explain. The first time you came here was to help your mother, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said with a tight jaw.

  “It’s not like they sat waiting to die. Even as their forest rotted around them, like you, they tried everything they could to save it and their Mother Tree. To the Ashling, they stayed, never giving up hope they cou
ld reverse the irreversible.”

  I glanced at her beside me, staring straight ahead, her whole body tight, and thought about Seanna’s reaction to first seeing this swamp. How old had she been? Swamps were a normal thing back on Earth, but in the lives of the Ashlings, they were a symbol of everything they fought against. At what age had she been told the story of the neighboring Ashling clan? What kind of impression had it made on her?

  “This is what would have happened if we weren’t in time to save the Mother Tree?” I asked.

  She nodded. “They just moved in.”

  “Who?”

  “The lizards,” she said, voice hard. “Like maggots on a corpse.”

  I thought of saying something to remind her the Ashlings weren’t using the ground anymore and likely never would again. Luckily, my filter clicked on and I bit back that sentiment. I was pretty sure it was at the very top of the list of What Not to Say.

  “You don’t have to come with me,” I said instead. I didn’t relish the idea of going in alone, but it was better than dragging her along with me.

  “No. I’ll go. It’s too dangerous in there for you to go alone.”

  “Suit yourself.” I glanced up at the two birds circling over the woods opposite the swamp. I hoped they found dinner out there. That was a role I didn’t want. I pulled off my coat, dropped my pack on the ground, and turned to stomp on the ever-increasing spongy ground.

  ***

  The stink was worse than I remembered. It curled my nose hairs like a bad perm. I pulled my shirt sleeve down to cover my palm so I could use that to filter out some of the stench. It didn’t work that well, but at least actively trying to prevent it from reaching my nose helped on a subconscious level.

  The further we made our way into the swamp, the more the dank darkness closed in around us. We tried to pick our way along the driest route while keeping the light of open air in sight. As usual, I slogged along like a heavy-hooved donkey while Seanna basically glided across the slimy water. The gunk soaked my shoes and pants up to the knees.

  “I’d forgotten how much I hated this the first time,” I muttered.

  “It was your idea,” Seanna said.

  “I know. Doesn’t mean it was a good idea.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Don’t even,” I said.