The Sixth Gate

by K T Munson

  “What did the Seer decide?” Troy asked when the last had arrived.

  “She has agreed to meet with you to consider all of your concerns,” Malthael said, but he was distracted by the appearance of the Orani gate keeper. “Ruhan, you look exhausted.”

  “We had an attack.” Ruhan’s old voice cracked. “My daughter is missing.”

  The old man turned away, but Malthael could see the sobs rack his shoulders. The other guardians bowed their heads at the news; even Meridith’s stern expression showed empathy. A sad silence fell, and Malthael knew words would not comfort a grieving father.

  “When?” Elisabeth’s voice broke the silence.

  Malthael spun around at her voice, ready to scold her for being late, but stopped when he saw the state she was in. Her clothes were dusty, and there was dirt smeared across her cheek. Her hair was wild, and the clip that normally kept it securely in place was gone. He looked at the guardian dogs, Duke and Nathan, and saw they had some sort of strange goop on them.

  “Elsa?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  She smiled softly at him, her eyes a little dull and worn, but she seemed resolved to have this meeting. He had never remembered her looking so self-assured. Her head was raised, and there was a new sense of assurance in her step as she moved to stand beside him. Nathan and Duke vanished again as all eyes turned to his adopted daughter.

  “Two days ago,” the Orani Keeper managed.

  “What else?” Elisabeth asked, looking from one face to another.

  Troy cleared his throat. “In Hystera, our Keeper, the one in tune with our planet, has found a disturbance in the harmony of our world. Our people are killing themselves, and Jinq believes more is to come if you do not see to them.”

  “We have had attacks,” Meridith stated next. “We have lost people to creatures from the Netherworld. Their relatives have come to the church for answers, and they turned to us. We need some way to track these attacks.”

  Malthael interjected, “I can work on that, Meridith. It may take some time, but I believe I know a way.”

  “We have had two attacks in Lyreane,” Emera said. “A Nightmare brutalized a band of wanderers and killed most of them before they could flee. A second creature took down a ship at sea. Most survived.”

  Elisabeth nodded before looking to Malthael. “Papa?”

  “I sent Gog out to gather information across Ashlad. There has only been one attack here so far. A swarm of butterflies sliced a man with a million cuts and left him there to bleed. It is unlikely that he’ll survive his wounds.”

  Elisabeth took a deep breath. “There is a pattern we cannot see. The Netherworld is bleeding through. I will go to the source of our troubles and try to find your daughter.” Elisabeth nodded to Ruhan.

  “Many lives are at stake,” Troy said, his young face grim. “There are many more tasks that require your attention.”

  “You demand too much,” Emera of Lyreane said, her voice airy. “She is one woman.”

  “Our need is greater than one lost girl,” Troy countered, his eyes narrowing. “Our planet is off balance.”

  “That lost girl is my daughter!” the Orani Keeper exclaimed in rage.

  “You have Shrikes in Tym Resh, suicides in Hystera, and I have just seen Weavers in Lyreane,” Elisabeth interrupted. The Guardians gasped at her words. Nothing was more feared in the Netherworld than the Weavers. They were deadly, and if they were ever free of the Netherworld, their hordes would overrun them all.

  “Weavers?” Malthael asked; even demons dreaded the Weavers and their numbers.

  “Later,” Elisabeth said under her breath when Malthael opened his mouth to press for an explanation. “These creatures are coming from the Netherworld, which is likely where your daughter is, so that is where I should go. I shall find your daughter and discover how the creatures of the Netherworld are bleeding through. What is your daughter’s name?”

  “Nanette,” Ruhan said, hope restored to him. “Her name is Nanette.”

  “Father,” she said formally for the benefit of those in attendance. “Since neither you nor the hounds can go into the Netherworld, I need a guide and I need one quickly.”

  “I must disagree,” Troy interjected, his face worried. “If Jinq believes the world is unbalanced, I would ask that you come to Hystera immediately.”

  “My father has informed me that I am likely the last of my kind,” Elisabeth replied pointedly, her jaw set in the same stubborn way her mother’s had. “Do you think that you have any right to command me? I will see to this girl and the Det Mor Clan, and I shall do so of my own accord.”

  Troy sat back and focused his gaze on Malthael. “I believe that means this meeting is adjourned.”

  When his face disappeared, the others glanced around at each other. One by one they then vanished as well, until only Ruhan remained. He lingered just long enough to thank Elisabeth before he, too, left.

  When Elisabeth swayed, Malthael put a hand on her arm to steady her. “Are you all right?” he asked, trying not to think about how she would know Weavers were in Lyreane.

  “Tired,” Elisabeth said, leaning against his arm. “Today has been a trying day.”

  “Did Duke and Nathan protect you?”

  She huffed as though the words amused her. “My personal assassin saved me.”

  “The assassin?” Malthael sputtered as he led her up the stairs. “He protected you?”

  “I was as shocked as you are,” she whispered, looking preoccupied. “Apparently I need to die a very specific way: by his sword.”

  “So he intends to keep you alive by any means until he can use the Sin Eater on you,” the reformed demon stated, his voice contemplative. “Perhaps Troy is right. Perhaps this is all connected.”

  “That pretentious boy will have to wait,” Elisabeth snapped, getting some of her fire back as they entered the study. “Nanette and the Det Mor Clan are my priority.”

  “I do not cherish the idea of you mingling with the Det Mor Clan,” Malthael countered. His expression betrayed his worry. “They are tricksters. Do not eat anything they offer or make any promises.”

  “You need to find me a guide we can trust,” Elisabeth responded, “and you may have kept from telling me about the Netherworld and Morhaven, but you did not keep me out of the library.”

  “Clever girl,” Malthael responded with pride in his voice. “You’ll need all your wits in the Netherworld.”

  “Is it truly like the texts suggest?” she asked. “That nothing is at it seems?”

  “It is a place of wonder and of terror. You will be tested at every turn. More so, even, because you will be unable to suppress your demonic half. The Netherworld is your father’s home.”

  He could see the sudden dread on her face, but she made no move to revoke her intent. Instead, she seemed to have an internal debate as she crossed her arms and drummed her fingers, staring absently at the floor. Malthael waited as her mind analyzed the angles, something she had done since she was quite young.

  Finally she looked up at him, her hands clasped in front of her. “The King Nauberon will sense where there is a something out of balance in the Netherworld. If not him, perhaps his grandmother, oldest of the Det Morians, will know. They may know where Nanette is and perhaps what is happening. Set up a meeting and find me a guide, Papa. I will be careful when dealing with the Det Mor Clan. I promise.”

  Malthael watched as she turned and walked away, her hand patting slightly at her leg. She was worried and thinking hard about what was to come. It was good that she wasn’t disregarding what was going to be required of her, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like that after all these years of their mostly tranquil life, she was going to be thrust into imminent danger. Those that had come for her before had been easily dealt with. The world was going crazy, and his daughter was right at the middle of it. Yet she bore it all like her mother had. Serena may have been mortal, but she had been a force to reckon with.

  Malthael ha
d nearly died once at the hand of a Soul Collector, and Serena had stood with a babe in her arms to stop it. She had looked like a warrior mother. When the Soul Collector had taken her deal, with the intent of breaking it, Malthael had broken his horns and driven them into the Soul Collector’s shoulders. Though he hadn’t been able to do it before Serena had lost her soul, Malthael had been able to spirit the half-breed infant away to safety.

  Now the world needed Elisabeth, and this time Serena wasn’t around to protect her. She was going to have to protect herself because where she was going, Malthael couldn’t follow. He swallowed heavily, his worry as great as hers, but he reveled in one thought—she could not take a soul while in the Nether. Even if she felt the urge to feed on life force, there would be not one mortal around to feed from.

  Chapter 24: Hystera

  Jinq helped put the last of the stabilizers up as Mara used her trunk to hold up the top of the tent canvas. After a few nights of strange dreams and Kerrigan’s sudden lack of energy, Jinq decided they needed to move further back. Whatever was happening in Himota, it was spreading, expanding out further and further into the surrounding grasslands. He’d been keeping a close eye on the birds. When the sphere of gloom around Himota widened, the fowl steered clear. There had been another suicide the night before.

  It had left them all restless and uneasy. Worse still, Troy had not contacted them, which didn’t bode well. Every night Jinq was reluctant to sleep for fear of the nightmares that were to follow. Most started out harmless, even dreamlike, but they always ended with one of the people who had died. The words from girl who had killed herself on their first day haunted him, and he could feel the planet weeping.

  “A little to the right,” Jinq said, stepping back and shielding his eyes from the sun. “That’s it.” Mara let it down, and the outer skin of the tent dropped perfectly into place. Unwilling to show the village people that they had lost hope, Jinq put it just by the tree line, claiming it was to keep them cooler. Yet he felt these people were already lost, and so far Jinq was unable to find their spirit animals. They couldn’t be dead, or all these people would be dead as well.

  “Elder Rekis,” Kerrigan said, her voice sounding so empty of emotion that he was starting to think he should send her back to the capital, “the Gate Guardian is on your mirror.”

  “Come and feed Mara,” Jinq said, relieved but unwilling to let the girl overhear their conversation.

  “All right,” she said without much enthusiasm, her owl perching on her shoulder.

  He watched the exhausted girl try to put on a smile as she greeted the elephant. Mara’s behavior had improved since they’d decided to move the tent back. Setting the encampment up had given them a distraction from the misery behind them. He hoped moving their campsite would do more good than harm, but he worried about what the villagers were likely saying about their relocation.

  When Jinq ducked into the tent, the mirror was leaning up against their only table. Jinq walked up to it and saw the hard look on Troy’s face. He only had that expression when there was news that greatly displeased him. Jinq recalled that Troy had worn that same look when they’d first heard about the string of suicides.

  “What did she say?” he asked before Troy could manage a word.

  His young face held the eyes of a wise old man, although the dots on his head showed he was hardly a man. Most guardians were older, and many had children of their own, but Troy was special. He learned quickly, and by the time he was eleven he’d been reading books that even Jinq struggled with. He understood the dynamics of the clans’ politics and many of the northern clans’ cultures. In the two years since he’d taken on the mantel of Guardian, the now thirteen-year-old boy had proven to be as tenacious as the older Gate Guardians.

  “She said our request was secondary,” Troy informed him, doing little to hide his anger. “Once she recovers a girl from the Netherworld, she will consider our request.”

  “Did you tell her about the wrongness?” Jinq asked, having no other word to describe it.

  “She disregarded it.” Troy’s words were biting, but he stopped and added, “Though she is meeting with the Det Mor Clan.”

  “The Chaos Clan?” His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea,” the boy said, his face contemplative. “Although I wonder if it may be because of the attacks across all worlds by creatures in the Netherworld. They would register as unbalance. My temper perhaps clouded my initial judgment.”

  “What does it mean?” Jinq asked, trying to bring the boy out of his thoughts.

  Troy’s eyes returned to focus. “It means I judged the Seer hastily. She may be more astute then I thought. I need you to do some reconnaissance in the area, look for any points of entry into the Netherworld. Ask them if they saw any strange creatures or anything that can indicate that the Netherworld is involved. When the Seer returns, I will discover what she has found out and implore her to come here.”

  Jinq nodded. “I’ll look for what I can and report back.”

  “How is your assistant?” Troy asked, his eyes watching carefully.

  “She is competent, but this place is giving her nightmares, and she doesn’t appear to be getting much sleep,” Jinq replied, glancing over his shoulder. “I have been suffering from similar problems, but meditation has helped. Perhaps this assignment will exhaust us enough to allow us to sleep without dreams.”

  Troy nodded. “I’ll report this to Hipasha. She insists that the girl remains until your mission is complete.”

  “I will keep her with me, but if I feel she is no longer able to assist, I intend to send her back,” he responded, rubbing his chin. “I’ll inform you if that becomes necessary.”

  “Understood,” Troy nodded in agreement. “Do everything you can, but your safety is paramount. You are our Keeper and the most connected with the planet. Should Hystera suffer an attack, you must flee to safety.”

  That was the life of a Keeper. If at all prudent, he must first and foremost remove himself from danger. Keepers should never attack, but if escape was unwise, they could defend. Jinq was the youngest of the Keepers and most able, but because there were not many of them, they could not risk dying before their time. Yet the idea of abandoning even one soul to save his own didn’t sit well. It never had.

  Despite his reservations, he agreed. “I will do what is best.”

  “Very well,” Troy said, and his image faded.

  Jinq set the mirror down and leaned back on his heels. He let his head roll back as he felt the planet cry out. Hystera knew something was wrong. It wanted help, and the Seer had denied them. Which meant it was up to him, and a marked girl of barely fourteen winters. Not good odds.

  Chapter 25: Netherworld

  Ki stood outside the orc’s cottage watching the Night Fairies dance, their wings illuminating the area. Their combined glow acted as a single point of light in an otherwise all-consuming darkness. He stood on the grass listening to them sing their soft song as the gnomes carefully moved around him. Even at night, the gnomes could not rest. The fairies slept during the day on Cyprus trees in Verten and appeared to be ugly little bugs, but at night they blossomed. Swayed by their subtle power, he stood transfixed for a moment before climbing the stairs.

  He opened the door, and the heat of the little schoolhouse hit his face. There were many that lived in the Nether’s safe havens, but this was the easiest one to pay off. The old orc was still by the fire, cleaning his sword arm, when Ki entered. He glanced up, his eyes dazed, and Ki wondered if he ever left that chair.

  He wasn’t as sharp this time. Instead, he looked empty, and at first he didn’t seem to recognize Ki. Motionless on the threshold of the room, Ki waited, studying the orc. After a moment, he seemed to remember who Ki was, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “Have you found him?” he asked, his left arm cleaning his bladed limb absentmindedly.

  “No,” Ki said, knowing this was a bad day. “I’ll tell you if
I find anything.”

  “Good, good,” he replied. His mind was half gone as he muttered to himself, “The Black King will pay when he returns.”

  “As you say,” Ki said, as he always did, before turning toward the back of the house.

  “The fairies whisper,” the orc said, and Ki turned back in surprise. “You should listen.”

  “What do they say?” he replied politely, but knew the ancient orc was half mad on his bad days. The last time the fairies had whispered, it had been the death of a Gate Guardian.

  He looked up, and for a moment his eyes sharpened. “The Golden Demon who tore his horns asunder and became a Mad Dog is looking.”

  The orc peered down at the sword and seemed to forget Ki was there. Ki’s eyes narrowed. “Looking for what?”

  He seemed to blink and focus once more on Ki. “Do you have news of the Black King?”

  “No,” Ki answered slowly, “but I may have news soon.”

  The orc nodded and returned his attention to his weapon. Ki watched him closely before turning around and going back toward the front. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a single mushroom, and opened the main door.

  All the fairies stopped their singing and immediately flew over to him, screeching, “Mine!”

  “This food of the living,” he said as they flew around him a frenzy, their razor-sharp opalescent wings shimmering, “I offer in exchange for information.”

  One of them hissed, revealing rows of pointed teeth in her little head before she zipped away. Her two rows of arms and oversized heads were characteristic of the fairies. The first set of arms had hands on the ends, but the second set were pointed and used to attack. Below them, the hideous gnomes took the opportunity to regroup before the fairies noticed. He knew that at least one fairy would not be able to resist the mushroom. It would not be long before he would have his information. Fairies of the Nether were addicted to mushrooms from the planets, which for them were aphrodisiacs.