The East Gate (Dawnbringer, Book 2)

by Elon Vidal

"Perhaps somewhere more private will do?" Damon said, looking around even though the shop was empty.

  "You warriors and your secrets," the woman smiled. "I assure you no one thinks you are interesting here."

  Damon sighed and took out a silver bracelet, holding it out for her. The woman almost squealed in delight as she took it and examined it before putting it on. Pixies were famous for their love of shiny trinkets, and it seemed even the dark ones did too.

  "Oh, I like you, you have excellent taste," she said. She snapped her fingers, and a door appeared. "Follow me."

  Damon looked at Dawn and Elijah, giving them a small nod as he followed the Pixie. They, in turn, followed him. The door led to a dark living room, which was nicely furnished with an oak flooring, tall ceiling, a couple couches facing a fireplace and a table on the opposite end lined with a floor-to-ceiling showcase with all manner of books, vases, and small statues. The door closed behind them just as the woman snapped her fingers again, and the lights came on.

  "Helena, we have guests!" she called out, then turned to them and offered some seats.

  Dawn sat down next to Elijah, while Damon sat down opposite them. A tray with a tea set appeared before them, and the woman finally sat down and started pouring.

  "Pardon my manners, I am Grace."

  Another woman walked into the room, with a striking resemblance to Grace. With the same black eyes and long white hair, only much younger. She took one look at Damon, and her face lit up.

  “Oh, this is a treat,” she said. “He is delightful to look at; where did you find him, Gracie?”

  “He is far too young for you, Helena,” Grace giggled and reached for her cup.

  “Oh, pish posh! I am only a hundred and six.”

  “Hundred and seven this summer,” Grace corrected.

  Dawn bit her lip to keep from laughing while Damon looked like he just wanted the earth to open up and swallow him. Helena waved her hand in dismissal before walking to an empty seat.

  “So to what do we owe the pleasure of having two warlocks in our humble home? This one does not seem to like us very much,” Helena said as her eyes focused on Elijah.

  “Me?” he almost squeaked, his eyebrows shooting up.

  "I am a telepath, and my sister is an empath. There is not much you can hide from us," Grace said. Then she looked at Damon, “Including that which you hold so close to your heart, warlock.”

  Dawn wanted to ask what that was, but it was none of her business. She was curious though, Damon was proving to be quite the enigma.

  “Nor you, pretty girl,” Grace said as she turned to her with a wink.

  Great, Dawn thought. She couldn’t think or even feel anything these two couldn't pick up on. It must be a nightmare living with both of them.

  Damon cleared his throat. "I'm sure we can all agree that you keep your thoughts, and ours, to yourself. That is not what we came for."

  Grace laughed. "Of course. Please do state why we have been honored by your presence tonight?"

  “And more importantly, what is she?” Helena said, looking at Dawn intently with a tilted head.

  “She’s a Fae Halfling,” Damon replied.

  “Ah, so she is the reason you are here then,” Helena stated. “And she is no ordinary Halfling.”

  Dawn felt her heart almost stop at those words. What did that mean?

  A large clear bowl of water appeared on the table, and Helena gestured to it. “Please, put your hands inside.”

  Dawn looked at Damon, and he nodded, which made Grace laugh. “It is only water, little one. Promise.”

  She put her hands in the water, and it immediately turned black. Startled, she pulled her hands out, watching in fascination when the water quickly cleared.

  “Do not fear, no harm will come to you,” Helena said.

  Dawn put her hands back in the water, and the water turned black again.

  “This is ancient water Sprite magic, used at the time to detect a person’s intentions before they were allowed entry into their realm. It removes all perceptions of self, all exterior cloaks, leaving the true core of a being.”

  The Pixie waved her hand over the bowl, a red glow coming from her fingers. “Something dark clings to you,” she stated.

  “The mark of a hound,” Grace responded.

  As she spoke, Dawn watched as the water turned green.

  “She is indeed Fae,” Helena said with a tilt of her head.

  “Was there any doubt?” Dawn asked.

  “Oh, you never know with you light magic folk; your lies tend to only be surpassed by your self-righteousness,” Helena replied with a wink.

  The water turned blue, and Dawn felt something warm running down her nose to her lip.

  “What’s happening?” Elijah said, quickly standing up. “You are hurting her!”

  “I’m fine,” Dawn said. She didn’t feel pain anywhere.

  “Your nose is bleeding! We need to stop this.”

  “She will have a massive headache tomorrow, but she’ll be all right,” Grace said.

  “What does blue mean?” Damon asked.

  Helena leaned forward and touched Dawn’s wrists, closing her eyes. “There is nothing,” she said, then frowned. “I can definitely sense something there, but I can’t see anything.”

  Helena drew back, and Dawn watched as the water turned white. “What does this mean now?”

  The Empath shook her head slowly. “I do not know. It is strange, but by all accounts, you seem to be just half-Fae. Whatever that is, I cannot tell you. It is neither light nor dark magic is all I can tell you.”

  Dawn withdrew her hands and wiped them against her jeans. Grace handed her a tissue, and she wiped her nose. They had come all this way for nothing then.

  “Yes, you may,” Grace chuckled, looking at Elijah.

  Dawn looked at her blushing friend, wondering what was going on now. Grace waved her hand, and a door appeared. “Second door to your left.”

  Elijah stood and nodded, then excused himself.

  “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Grace chuckled again, “Kids.”

  Damon seemed to share the same feeling, either about Elijah or Grace, Dawn didn’t know. But he rolled his eyes and looked like he’s had enough of the Pixie’s giggling. “So what do we do now?”

  “Give me your hand.”

  Damon extended his hand to her, and she took it in hers, running her finger down his palm. When she was done, she let go and pointed at his hand.

  “That spell will lead you to a friend of ours. He’s Djinn, and if anyone can help you, then it will be him.”

  “Thank you,” he said, standing up.

  “Ah-ah, not so fast, handsome,” Helena said with a click of her tongue.

  “What?”

  “Nothing is for free around here, you should know that.”

  “I already gave Grace a bracelet, I don’t have anything else.”

  “My sister is easily amused by childish things; I am more interested in good magic.”

  Damon looked visibly tense. “What do you want?”

  “A drop of your blood should suffice. Warlock magic is great for healing potions.”

  Dawn wondered if that was all she could use warlock blood for, and she found that she didn’t want to know. The thought of it was creepy enough. She stood as Damon offered his finger, wincing slightly when Helena took out a needle and pricked him.

  “Now that is done, you can be on your way. I suggest you visit the djinn soon; it’s not safe to be walking around with her like that,” Grace said and took Dawn’s hand.

  “A quick word with the warlock in private, please?” Helena said, and Damon gave Dawn a small nod.

  “Come on,” Grace said, pulling away Dawn.

  She pushed something in Dawn's palm as they walked back into the shop. When Dawn looked at it, she was surprised to find a small vial with blue liquid inside and a heart sticker on the side.

  "A teaspoon for both parties should do th
e trick. Exactly the same amount for either one."

  "Is this...?" her voice trailed as the excitement built up. She had to be dreaming!

  Grace giggled, rubbing her hands together like an excited child.

  "Thank you!" Dawn exclaimed, putting the vial in her pocket.

  "For what?" Damon asked as he finally walked in behind them.

  "Umm, for giving us information," Dawn replied with a quick bite of her bottom lip.

  Damon narrowed his eyes at her but didn't question her further, instead looking around for a second. "Where is Elijah?"

  "I don't know, didn't he come back inside?"

  Damon shook his head. "No. All this time I thought he was here, with you."

  Dawn shook her head. She hadn’t seen Elijah since he went to the bathroom several minutes ago. And now that she thought of it, it had been too long.

  "Can you check on him?" she asked, now a bit worried that maybe he wasn't feeling well.

  Damon returned a minute later with a concerned expression. Dawn knew what it meant; Elijah wasn’t there or anywhere else in the house. She took out her phone before Damon could say anything and held up a finger to silence everyone as she called her friend's number. The phone rang a couple of times before Damon frowned.

  "Do you hear that?"

  He walked to the front door, and both ladies followed him, watching as he walked outside and bent to pick something up. The sound of Elijah's ringtone filled the space as Damon held it up, broken screen and all. Dawn froze as she stared at the ringing phone, hers still glued to her ear as Elijah's voicemail finally came on.

  "Oh no," Helena’s voice said behind them, her face twisted as if in agony.

  "What is it?" Damon asked, taking long steps towards her.

  "I sense..." the woman paused as she shivered. "Wraiths."

  Damon cursed under his breath as he closed his eyes and quickly waved his hand through the air and chanted. "Precious wind, you are everywhere where we cannot be. Show me your memories, reveal your footprints to me."

  A faint mirage swirled in front of them as they watched an impression of Elijah walk a few steps away from the store with his phone pressed to his ear. Two shadows appeared and swirled around him, causing Dawn to run towards him. Damon caught her and held her to him, and she screamed.

  "Elijah, no!"

  The shadows disappeared as quickly as they appeared, taking Elijah with them and leaving the phone behind with a silent crash.

  Elijah was gone. Dawn sagged against Damon in defeat, and the tears finally came. She had no idea where he was, and fear wound itself around her the same way the shadows had done to her friend. It was her fault, and that was the worst thing of all.

  They had to find him.

  SEVEN

  “Dawn, try to breathe.”

  Dawn dry heaved. She used one hand to support herself against the wall and the other to hug herself around her stomach. Every time she tried to breathe in, the air seemed to choke her and threaten to empty her already empty stomach. And she deserved every bit of pain.

  “You need to calm down,” Damon said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  Dawn turned around fast and pushed him away from her. He was taller and much stronger, so the effort only moved him a little.

  “Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

  “We need to go. Now.”

  “Go? We can’t just leave without…without finding out where they took him.”

  “We can’t find him if we stay here any longer.”

  “So what? You have another plan now?”

  “We have to find the djinn.”

  “No!”

  “Dawn—”

  “No more Wiccans!”

  Her anger was increasing with every word that came out of Damon’s mouth.

  “They won’t be able to find him.”

  “We are going back home, now, and we are going to get Elijah back,” she said firmly.

  “You don’t understand. Wraiths are shadows born of great tragedy, and if you thought hounds are, bad then this is just a hundred times worse. You can only make a wraith when you kill a magical being, Dawn. Whoever took Elijah is not someone we want to waste time looking for the light magic way of doing things.”

  The thought that whoever had taken Elijah could turn him into one of those things made her nauseous all over again.

  “It’s my fault he’s been taken. I shouldn’t’ve dragged him into this mess. I feel awful. I have to..”

  “The pixies gave us a spell to travel to where the djinn is, we need to go there. Now. I know it’s a lot to process, but we can’t stop to think. We need to act.”

  He was making sense, even though she didn’t want to think about that right now. He gave her a minute to consider what he was saying. Dawn had barely managed a hesitant nod when Damon grabbed her hand and transported them.

  They emerged in the middle of a living room, the smell of burning incense all around. An old man sat in a meditating pose not so far from where they stood, and he didn’t open his eyes.

  “You are not welcome here,” he said calmly. His feathery mane extended along his back and seemed to connect with a feathered covering around the sides of his arms and torso which ended on naked human front. He was levitating facing a wall-to-wall window that revealed a lush garden that contrasted with the mostly empty interior.

  “We are sorry to intrude, but we need your help urgently,” Damon said, taking a step forward.

  “Stop there!” he raised his voice a little, as his eyelids slowly opened to reveal owl-like eyes.. “What makes you believe that I can help you, warlock?”

  “Helena sent us here—” Damon started before the djinn cut in.

  “Pixies,” the old man scoffed. “Annoying, the whole lot of them!”

  Damon’s jaw clenched, and Dawn imagined him to be trying to summon as much patience as she was. They needed to find Elijah, and the djinn was their only option right now to actually make progress. They had to play nice, even if the old man didn’t seem to be the most pleasant.

  “Warlocks too,” he continued, then looked at Damon pointedly.

  “We need your help, and then we will be out of your way.”

  “Falling into a pit of your own making, requiring a hand to climb out?” the djinn questioned, tilting his head to the side.

  “Our friend was taken by wraiths,” Damon said, “We need to know who might have that kind of power.”

  The old man was quiet for a long time, and Dawn began to wonder if this had been a good idea after all. They didn’t have any time to waste, and the djinn seemed to be in no hurry.

  “Will you help us or not?” she asked, her impatience rising to the surface.

  If he wasn’t going to help them, then they needed to go and find someone who would. And if that meant facing Ezekiel and the Council’s wrath, then so be it.

  “I do not know, young Halfling. Should I?”

  “Please,” Damon tried in a calmer voice.

  The old man tilted his head to the side again and looked at Damon without saying a word. And just when Dawn was ready to burst and let him know that they were going, he pointed at her.

  “Perhaps your friend can help with that.”

  “Me?” she asked in surprise. “What do you mean? I am not the one who took Elijah!”

  “One can argue that things often seem insignificant, but they are not. Small things lead to catastrophe, a small germ can lead to a pandemic, and one girl can start a war.”

  “What the heck are you talking about? What war? We just want to find Elijah, and all this is not helping us!”

  The djinn turned to Damon, “Ever impatient, she is.”

  “When my best friend has been kidnapped by magical creatures that should not exist, and we have no idea how to find him? Of course!” Dawn said.

  “There is much to be learned in listening, young one. Listening, and paying attention.”

  Dawn wanted to throw something at the old man; what was he even
talking about? Listening to what? Paying attention to what exactly when he hadn’t said anything useful since they got there!

  “You think with your experiences, and what you perceive to be real and true. But the mind is much more than you understand, and it is capable of wonderful things. That is the essence of magic, you see? Drawing energy from a life force to create something the mind cannot even begin to comprehend. Because if it were for what we believe alone, we would not be what we are. Limited by our own fears as we are, what we call magic is merely an expression of what we would be without those limitations.”

  “And what would we be?” Damon asked, making Dawn look at him as if he had lost his mind.

  Surely, he couldn’t be indulging this madness!

  “Gods,” the old man replied simply, as if that made any sense at all.

  “Are you saying what we think is real and true, might not actually be?” Damon asked again.