The Sixth Gate

by K T Munson

  Their mother had had particular needs, most of which Nanette was too young to remember. When their father couldn’t provide them, she’d left. Abandonment had cut Yuna deeper, because she remembered their mother. Nanette was sometimes glad she knew neither their lost wealth nor their selfish mother. Their father had had enough to keep the small print shop going, living on paper and ink, and the generosity of others. He’d liked to think they lived on stories, but she had never endeavored to comfort herself with that level of creativity because all she had felt was hunger.

  Now she stood there in the garden as a princess married to the fourth prince of Jord and well secured in her wealth and position. Who would have thought that little starving Ettie would become Princess Nanette of Jord, kingdom of one of the great islands? Certainly not Nanette herself. Though she was grateful to not be starving and to have fine dresses, her happiness had died the day Tidus and Yuna had announced their engagement.

  Tidus had been a great warrior, the Great Protector of Jord, who had come to buy a book of maps from their father. Nanette could still remember the way the sun had shone off his straw-colored hair. It had seemed like gold in the sunlight. His smile had warmed her and his words had amused her, but in the end he’d chosen her saccharine sister. The past was what it was.

  “Nanette?” Prince Jason asked, his face neutral.

  She turned very carefully, making the shoes and clothes appear to be a natural fit for her, though she still felt out of place—like a false princess, even though months had passed since her marriage. To her the clothes were a mask, but one that did little to hid her true face, that of a commoner. A simple gray fish pretending to be blue but who knew its own color.

  “Are we ready?” Nanette asked.

  “I am,” he replied shortly before turning. “I said your name multiple times.”

  “I apologize. I was lost in thought,” Nanette said and took one step away from the pond.

  She felt something cold and wet slide around her ankle. Quickly looking down, she was horrified to see a tentacle pulling taunt. She fell straight to the ground, hitting her chin on the cobblestone path. Pain exploded in her face, and she heard the terrible crunch as her teeth broke on themselves. The Prince cried out and backed away, yelling for help but doing nothing to aid her himself.

  Her legs went into the water first. She screamed, trying to keep hold of the slick rocks to prevent herself from going under. Despite her efforts, her strength was no match for whatever monster clung to her ankle. Before it pulled her completely under, she took a deep breath. Under the water, she opened her eyes to see a circular silhouette at the bottom with multiple tentacles. It opened its mouth, revealing rows of tiny sharp teeth. She kicked to fight it, but it did not let go.

  Despite the blind panic, a thought occurred to her. She reached up into her hair and pulled out one of the two decorative sticks. Nanette gripped the hair adornment in her fist and, at the same time, pulled up on the leg the creature held. When the tentacle was close enough, she stabbed it with all her might. The creature let her go, and the other tentacles retreated to the large mass. Nanette clawed for the surface, her lungs burning for air. She kicked so hard that her silly shoes fell off.

  She burst through the surface, taking in a long gasp of sweet air, and then quickly pulled herself over onto the slick rocks. Her heart was pounding and she was terrified that she would feel another slimy tentacle wrap around her ankle. She flung herself up onto the shore and scrambled quickly away, putting as much distance between her and the water as possible. Landing on her stomach several yards away, she tried to catch her breath.

  She realized, suddenly, that she was lying on dirt rather than soft grass, and she slowly looked up. The palace that had just been pristine minutes ago was now in ruins.

  She knelt, water dripping off of her, and stared in confusion. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Forcing herself to stand, she rested her shoulder against a rust colored pillar that had once been gold and then turned to the sky. A red light spread across the land in a dull continuous drone. There was no sun, no blue sky.

  Nanette swallowed nervously as she looked around at this strange land and feared she knew exactly where she was. Only one place had a red sun illuminating a ruined landscape—the Netherworld.

  Chapter 19: Ashlad

  Elisabeth listened to Malthael explain what had happened, a sense of dread filling her. He had told her stories of the Netherworld and its strange monsters. Some of the most frightening things there were harmless, and some of the sweetest looking things were vicious. Shrikes also existed on the planets and were known as “butcher birds” for a reason. Normally their prey consisted of mice, but it seemed their counterparts in the Netherworld had even larger appetites. Not everything was different in the Netherworld, but when it was, it was rarely better.

  “That poor man,” Elisabeth said when he finished. “And what of this Keeper? What do you know of him?”

  “I do not know Jinq,” Malthael admitted, leaning back, “but through Troy I know of him.”

  “Is he a good and honest man?” Elisabeth asked, watching her papa closely. “Is this where we should put our attention?”

  “The Det Mor Clan is looking for your assassin,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. “I do not want to ask this of you because using your gift makes you susceptible, but Jinq Rekis is known to be a willful but good man.”

  Elisabeth considered this. She never had viewed her ability as valuable. She was likely the last of her kind, and every decision she made would result in one of the Gate Guardians waiting. She could not deny that part of her was terrified that this was leading to her own doom. Every time she used her curse, she felt it get more and more out of control. Even a simple brush of hands had her demon half wanting to feed, wanting to take the mortal soul. Only her assassin had been immune.

  After a moment, she lifted her head and answered, “I would like to meet the rest of the Gate Guardians and hear what they have to say. I have only heard one person’s need for a Seer. It would be unwise not to assess other issues among the other planets.”

  Malthael studied her face a moment before smiling slightly. “I agree. You should meet those who ask for your help. We’ll meet tomorrow in the early morning.”

  They both stood. The study did little to comfort her as he turned toward the hidden entrance. Elisabeth’s heart began to pound in anticipation as he stared at the lone tapestry. She was beginning to realize that her cozy life was coming to an end and there was nothing she could do about it. It made her feel small and helpless, like she was being swept along. It didn’t matter that she could see spirits and pull souls from the living. What mattered was that she’d never truly been alone. Tiss, Milo, or Malthael were always with her.

  “I should like to go out,” Elisabeth said.

  Her father turned. “Out? To where?”

  “If I am to leave home, I want to see a part of a world that I’ve dreamed of for years,” she said almost breathlessly, “and I’d like to go alone.”

  “You’ve never mentioned this to me,” Malthael said, startled. “Where do you wish to go?”

  “We all have our secret wishes, Papa,” Elisabeth said and took his arm in her hands. “I’ve always wanted to see my mother’s childhood home.”

  He straightened, looking stricken. “Your mother isn’t from Ashlad.”

  “I know,” she muttered softly before putting her hands out to her sides. “I’ll be back before tomorrow morning.”

  “Take Duke and Nathan,” Malthael insisted.

  Elisabeth cleared her throat. “And only them?”

  Her father seemed to consider it before nodding solemnly. Nathan and Duke were quick to appear. As she sunk into the ground, she imagined what her life would have been like if she had stayed in Lyreane. Malthael had said that those with blond hair were coveted because they were considered to be touched by light. She rarely spoke to Malthael about her mother because it seemed to be one of the few subj
ects that caused him pain. When she was old enough, he had given her a box of Serena’s things. Amongst the belongings Elisabeth had found the deed for a cottage and a portrait of her mother as a young girl.

  Traveling along the spirit lines always felt like falling, like she was sinking slowly down a long hole. Using the spirit world as a passage point was not common. Only the dead and Soul Collectors frequented it. She couldn’t wander in it herself, but required a guide—which is what Nathan and Duke were for. They were used as guards in the Netherworld and had been Malthael’s faithful dogs for ages. Though they had been unwilling to part with him, eventually they’d had become attached to Elisabeth by default. It was the only reason she could summon them.

  When she opened her eyes, a snowflake touched her cheek. She raised her head as they materialized outside a small cottage, her boots immediately sinking into the snow. She stood next to the frozen pond and ignored the chill as she looked over at the simple house. It was hard to imagine that her mother had been born in this house—it was unremarkable.

  Elisabeth had wanted to come here sooner but had always been too afraid. Now she needed to be brave. As she stared at the neglected cottage, she wasn’t sure what she’d expected by coming there. It wasn’t this, yet she wasn’t disappointed. She took her hands off Nathan and Duke and proceeded to the white fence. The snow crunched under her shoes. A twig snapped nearby, and she froze.

  Slowly turning her head, she spotted a deer. Its white spots shone bright against its brown hide and almost seemed to glow in the white light. Beginning to shiver, she stuck her hands into the pockets of her coat, grateful that she had worn such a warm one. Foolishly, she hadn’t considered weather when she’d decided to come here. Elisabeth was rarely impulsive, but if she hadn’t just come at that moment, she feared she never would have.

  Ever since Malthael had given her the deed, she had put off coming here, focusing on her work or anything else. Concentrating on A.J. and making his life better—anything to forget who and what she was. She pushed the gate open, and it protested from lack of use. It opened a foot or so before refusing to open any further, no matter how much she shoved at it.

  Frowning, but unwilling to do damage, she slipped around it. Her skirts barely fit, but she managed and walked up to the door. She stopped just short of the porch steps, unsure what to do next. She didn’t have the key with her. She had just wanted to see the house, but now the need to know where she had come from drove her further. She put a hand out and Nathan appeared at her side. They passed through the walls together.

  It was dimly lit inside, but she could see old rugs on the floor and simple decorations on the walls. The floorboards were worn and covered in a soft layer of dust. She kept her hand on Nathan even though they had rematerialized.

  To the left was a small dining area with a door that likely led to the kitchen, and there was a small living room to the right. There were dishes on display above the window and a cabinet that likely had more. In the living room she could see an old loveseat. Bugs had found their way into it, and much of the edges had been frayed. This place had been empty for some time, but not twenty-five years. It made her wonder if she would have met family had she returned sooner. Malthael said she had grandparents, but he had told her it was too dangerous to see them because of what she was. It was safer for them to never know she existed. Elisabeth knew he had been right, but part of her wondered: Would they have loved her and accepted her?

  She ignored the hallway in front of her that had two doors, one to the left and one to the right. Instead she walked down the hall to her left that led into the kitchen. It was mostly maintained and was made of good solid wood, but even that wasn’t completely intact. She was afraid to touch anything, as she felt sure it would vanish or fall apart. Instead she left it as it was: a tomb of her mother’s memories.

  When she reached the back door, her arm went out and Nathan appeared beside her again. The back area looked like it had once been a vegetable garden. Berry bushes crowded against the back fence, but most of the yard was snow-covered, empty garden beds. In the middle was a great tree, one likely to produce fruit in the summer. Now, in this frozen season, it just looked barren.

  Elisabeth wandered amongst the garden beds with Nathan at her side. When she came to a high gate with a secure lock, she touched Nathan’s back so they could pass through it. On the other side she stopped, startled by what she saw. There were seven headstones, all with caps of snow piled an inch high. The one right in front of her bore her mother’s name. Beside them were two names she didn’t recognize. Likely her mother’s parents, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Elisabeth crouched down and touched her mother’s cold headstone. It sat neglected, but enduring, with Serena written across in curly scrawl. Studying her hand a moment, she wondered if she had it in her to be courageous like her mother. No last name because she had birthed a child without a husband. In Lyreane, men owned their women, much like on the planet of Oran. If a woman lay with a man and had a child while unmarried, she could not keep her maiden name. Glancing down, she wondered if Malthael had brought her mother’s body back here or if they had buried an empty casket. With a sigh, she returned to the frozen garden.

  While considering what to do next, she caught a flicker of white out of the corner of her eye and turned back to the window. Her eyes raked over it, but there was nothing there, only her own reflection in the center of a frosted glass. Perhaps it had been a trick of the light. Either that or the eeriness of the hollow place was getting to her.

  Blinking back tears, Elisabeth walked around the house without looking back. She slipped through the front gate again and pulled it closed before walking down the lane. Just beyond the cottage road was a main road that would lead her to the small town. As she lifted her arms to summon Nathan and Duke, she looked down and saw the snow moving like a billowing smoke. It took her a moment to realize that a layer of fog was rolling down the lane. Her eyes narrowed as it seemed to grow as tall as her.

  She turned and walked down the cottage road, stuffing her hands in her pockets for warmth. Her fisted hands in her pockets began to sweat a little with nervous tension, and her stomach filled with worry. Something was itching at her brain. Somewhere in her mind a memory was trying to surface, a specific detail she was trying to recall. Standing in the road staring at the odd development of thick vapor, she was comforted by Duke and Nathan’s presence. She was sure it would not form like this in the middle of the day, in the middle of the road. Soon, though, it was rolling against her knees, obscuring her feet entirely from view. She heard a clicking noise.

  Elisabeth stopped breathing and remembered what was bothering her. She took a step back as the something in the fog clicked again. At the edge she could see long spikes, organic but engrained with steel. Suddenly, she heard a thunder of horse’s hooves, and the thick mist rose up to her waist. A horse and driverless carriage hurtled toward her, but the horse fell to its knees and gave a strangled cry. A giant spider-like creature jumped clear from the top of the carriage and back into the safety of the fog. Elisabeth’s eyes widened and she did the only thing her mind could comprehend. She screamed.

  Chapter 20: Hystera

  Kerrigan slept fitfully, just as every member of their party had done the last two nights since their talk with Troy. Beside her, Cav dozed softly, breathing in and loudly breathing out. He made soft hooting noises every time he exhaled, which normally gave Kerrigan comfort. Instead, though, she twisted in her covers tonight. The warmth of the day did little to help with the chill of the evening, and their tent didn’t seem to be helping as much as it normally did.

  Her dreams were nightmares, and her skin was covered with uneasy perspiration as she tried to wake herself. Her blood felt thick, as though it were turning to sap, and yet she still could not wake up. Empty faces were whispering unclear words to her. Her head turned one way and then another until she could finally make them out.

  “Kerrigan,” the woman’s voice said. />
  Her eyes shot open, and she sat up. Thankfully, Jinq slept through her startled gasp, and she made no further noise. Glancing at Cav, who slept peacefully, she pulled at the blankets to cover herself better. She was about to turn over and return to sleep when she heard her name again. A shadow crossed in front of the door.

  She quickly pulled her sheathed knife from under her pillow and crept along the flattened grass before throwing open the tent flap, but there was no one there. Baffled, she stepped out into the sea of pale grass. The light of the large moon winked at her from behind some wispy clouds. It was full, so everything about the plains was clear to see.

  “Kerrigan,” came on the wind again, and she spun to her right to see a woman reaching for her.

  “Mother?” she whispered, shocked, her blood running cold.

  “Come,” she whispered, her sweet face beckoning as she floated toward the tree line around the village.

  This is impossible, Kerrigan thought.

  She stood transfixed but decided it couldn’t be her mother. Even if it was, Kerrigan shouldn’t be able to see her, as she wasn’t a Seer. The only explanation that Kerrigan could come up with was that she was still asleep. Trying to will herself awake to no avail, she turned back to see if Jinq would wake and join her. This time, her mother’s voice was urgent. Feeling lightheaded, she let the words sing all worry away. She slowly walked across the grass. Her underlayers were not enough to fight against the cold, yet she barely felt it.

  “Mother, where are you going?” Kerrigan asked as the woman turned to face her. Her eyes were serene as they met hers. Her mother moved into the tree line without hesitation.

  The wispy shape of her form shone a pale white against the shadowed woods. The trees were tall and thick, but Kerrigan moved around them with ease. Their roots would normally have tripped her, but the full moonlight was enough to keep her from falling. They emerged into a wide field with a single great tree in the middle.