The Door (Part One)

by Lizzy Ford

  I was tired of this kind of life, of feeling like this – as if nothing I’d ever do would ever matter and any happiness I found would be fleeting.

  It was stupid to believe I had a chance at anything with Teyan and even stupider to consider becoming a Caretaker, when everything I touched always turned bad. The door before me had miraculously survived a fire. We were alike – destined to watch the world around us fall apart, over and over.

  “You and your stupid door,” I muttered to the Caretaker, glaring at the wooden monstrosity. Teyan aside, I wished I’d never been sent here.

  I tore the post it note down and flung it then reached for the lock, bitterly realizing my sole disobedience of the Caretaker was one she’d never witness.

  I locked the door and lowered my hand. My triumph didn’t last past the quiet acknowledgement that this solved nothing. All it did was –

  Thunder smashed overhead so suddenly, I jumped. My eyes flew upward. In a blink, the sky was covered with gray storm clouds. A strong wind swept ashes past me, blinding me temporarily. I coughed and hid my eyes to protect them from the debris. Another crash of thunder made the ground beneath me tremble. The rain started then, fat drops that hurt when they hit me.

  “Gianna!” Carey sounded panicked.

  I twisted in the direction of his voice and risked a peek from the crook of my arm.

  He was pale, alarm on his face. He dropped his phone as I watched and bolted towards me.

  A gust of wind shoved me into the door, and I caught myself against it, squinting towards the sky.

  The freakish storm wasn’t … natural. It appeared too fast and was too strong to be normal.

  “Unlock the door!” Carey shouted.

  I froze for a second, not understanding the connection, before recalling how many times the Caretaker told me never to lock the door. Whatever was happening around me – the two were connected, even if I didn’t know why.

  I obeyed and unlocked it.

  In another blink, the storm was completely gone and the sky clear.

  Lowering my arm, I looked around, dazed and then up at the bright blue sky. If not for my soaked clothing and the ash and debris stuck to the cloak, I would’ve doubted the storm happened at all.

  “Oh, god!” Carey gasped as he reached me. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  He pushed me aside hard enough I fell to the ground. I caught myself and started to snap at him to be careful when I realized what was beneath my fingertips.

  Dirt. Not ash or charred wood, but dirt. The concrete foundation was all that remained of the house. It formed a square around us. All signs of the abode being burned to the ground, of the pyre and shed that had been there ten seconds ago, were completely gone, as if someone had come out here and cleaned up everything. Not even the well was present.

  Only the door remained.

  “Carey, what’s going on?” I asked and climbed to my feet.

  He was muttering and pacing, staring at the door then wringing his hands, completely oblivious to me.

  Movement from the driveway caught my attention. Instantly, I thought of Teyan, and my heart soared at the thought of seeing him before I registered what was there.

  No person was there, but something was nailed against the fence where nothing had been before the storm. The desert breeze lifted one corner, and it waved to me.

  I glanced at Carey then started down the driveway at a trot. Careful not to leave the property, I went to the part of the fence where someone had piled something outside, beside the road, and leaned over to see.

  It was a tiny memorial, the kind that I saw sometimes on the highway where someone had died. Several bouquets of dried flowers were accompanied by stuffed animals and at least one envelope partially buried beneath the sandy dirt.

  When had people come by to leave the offerings for the Caretaker?

  I leaned farther over to see the poster nailed to the side of the fence, and my breath caught. Unable to see it clearly beneath the dust covering it, I recognized enough to know it wasn’t the old lady’s picture on the fence. I leapt back from the fence and bolted to the driveway and then to the road, too frantic to heed the ankle bracelet.

  I stopped in front of the memorial and gasped.

  In loving memory of Gianna Dominico

  My picture was nailed to the side of the fence. I brushed the dust away, hands quivering, and knelt. It was my yearbook picture from my junior year, before life went to hell. Nailed to the poster was a plastic baggy containing two newspaper articles. One was yellow and old while the other appeared relatively unscathed by the sun.

  “I don’t understand,” I mumbled. After a moment of shock, I yanked down the newspaper clipping and tugged it out of the plastic covering. It was brittle and faded from the sun, but still readable. “On the ten year anniversary of the disappearance of Gianna Dominico, her mother continues to urge police not to give up searching for her daughter. The cold case has baffled state and federal law enforcement since the sudden disappearance of the nineteen-year-old following a fire at the …”

  I stopped reading, and my mind felt frozen, heavy.

  Ten years? Was this some kind of joke?

  This can’t be happening. I stared at the photo of me, unable to process what I was seeing or how this was possible. The sense of my surroundings becoming surreal returned. For a split second, I wondered if I’d really returned to my world or one that only looked like it.

  “What’s the damage?” Carey snatched the clipping from my hand.

  Unable to respond, I continued to stare at my poster.

  “Ten years. Okay.” He released a breath. “Could’ve been much worse.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said hoarsely.

  “What’s not to understand?” he replied and knelt beside me. “The door exists in the corridor between places, in a pocket where space and time do not exist unless both sides of the corridor are anchored in universes with similar passages of time. You locked the door. You closed the portal between worlds and broke the connection with our universes. Ten seconds in the corridor became ten years outside of it.”

  “No,” I said and shook my head. “That’s not possible!”

  “You went into a different dimension with dinosaurs, and you think this is impossible?” He was wringing his hands.

  His logic hit me hard. “But ten years … my mother … she thinks I’m … and Teyan …” I stared at the poster, and my eyes began to overflow with tears. “I have to call her!” I pulled out my phone and stared at it. It was completely dead. Shifting onto my backside, I checked the ankle bracelet next. It, too, was dead. “Carey, I have to contact my mother!”

  His gaze was on the door. “I don’t know what to do,” he said softly. “We never learned what to do if the doors got locked, only that we were never to lock them.”

  “I don’t care about the stupid door or other universes!” I snapped and rose. I began walking, desperate to reach town so I could alert the police I was still alive and tell my mother as well. If this really happened, and I was ten years in the future, how much agony had she gone through over the past decade? I couldn’t imagine her reliving the pain we both experienced when we lost my father.

  “We’re lucky you didn’t destroy a world. Although, we don’t know whether or not that’s true. We didn’t destroy your world. I think the portal was open to the Tili home world when you locked the door.”

  Carey’s words stop me in my tracks. “What?”

  “You won’t like this, but can you stay here? I’ll go to town and alert the Caretaker Council and the police that you aren’t missing anymore.” He drew alongside me as he spoke, features tight with worry.

  “Are the Tili okay?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve got bigger issues right now, Gianna. The doors have never been locked – I don’t know what else might have happened since one of them was.”

  My mind was on Teyan, and I looked back, towards the end
of the driveway, where the visitors appeared and disappeared. If I hurt Teyan or his world …

  And my mother and all our relatives …

  My knees felt weak and my stomach roiled.

  “Stay here,” Carey said. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible. Maybe some of the visitors will come through, now that the door is unlocked.” He began walking at a quick pace, towards town.

  “Wait, Carey! What about me? Are you coming back?” I called after him, starting to panic. “What if someone comes through?”

  “You’ll be okay.” His answer, while warm, was distracted. “You agreed to be a Caretaker. No one can hurt you.”

  It wasn’t what I was asking, but I was gripped by such fear, I didn’t know what else to ask. I watched him walk away, helpless to stop him.

  He paused and turned when he was about twenty feet away. “If a Nidiani named Jiod shows up looking for me, or if he comes through the portal, do me a favor and don’t tell him anything. You want to avoid him, just in case. He was the reason I came to see the Caretaker, and … Ten years.” An incredulous look crossed his features. “How much could he have done in ten years?” This question appeared to be for him, not me.

  I blinked. What the hell was he talking about?

  With a shake of his head, Carey turned and began walking again.

  Don’t leave me. I couldn’t say the words aloud. I was working on not collapsing into a panic attack, but by the amount of effort it took to draw a breath, I was going to lose this battle.

  How long would it take him to go twenty miles?

  I wiped away tears. I was in no shape to join him, not when I couldn’t get the idea of my mother in pain, or Teyan dead, out of my mind. Woodenly, I returned to the end of the driveway and sank to the ground, staring into the space where the invisible portal was.

  If no one came here, could I go to their worlds again? I didn’t quite understand how the portal worked, but I knew there were rotations. The visitors had always arrived in the same order every night and left at the same time in the morning.

  I pulled the rock Teyan gave me from my pocket and rested it in my palm.

  There were two images today. One, of my parents. The second was of him, standing at the portal on Komandi, smiling as I walked away.

  “Oh, god,” I breathed. “Please, please, please don’t let me have destroyed his world!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nothing about this panic attack was mild. I curled up on the ground, shaking, and sobbed. I lost all track of time, until the morning became sweltering. Sweating and trembling, I forced myself up at some point and sat at the base of the door, the only source of shade on the property. Seated on Teyan’s cloak, I huddled with my knees drawn to my chest and waited for the episode to pass. It drained me, left me weak and fatigued. When it was over, I rested my head back against the door and gazed up at the vibrant blue sky.

  Ten years.

  I wasn’t able to wrap my head around such a thing. What had happened in the past decade? New technology for certain, but what about my family? Was everyone still alive? Did I look the same?

  Would anyone find that weird, if so? And what did I tell someone who asked where I was?

  I didn’t have the energy to worry and neither was I fully willing to believe this wasn’t a joke or bizarre prank. Sure, someone had cleaned up the house in ten seconds and created a memorial, which seemed morbid, but did that mean ten years had really passed?

  I felt the answer and squeezed my eyes closed, unable to handle another meltdown right now.

  Concentrating on my breathing instead of my emotions, I held the rock Teyan had given me tightly. Neither of us had any idea it might’ve been a farewell gift. Was he alive? Had he forgotten me and moved on with his life?

  The thought stung hard enough for my breath to catch.

  I barely knew him – what did it matter if I lost him? Surely there was a process for Tili alliances where someone died.

  But … I didn’t die. Not only that, but Teyan came after me when I ran through the portal without hesitation, because it was what allies did for one another. I owed him. At least, I thought I did. Somehow. If he tried to find me and couldn’t come through the portal, then shouldn’t I let him know I was alive, instead of running back to New York and trying to forget this entire experience?

  What about my mother? What if she was killed in a car accident or something the past few years?

  If I let myself think too long on any aspect of my life, I’d start weeping and never stop.

  “Just breathe, Gi,” I whispered to myself.

  With some effort to redirect my thoughts, I managed to focus on my breathing and relaxing my distressed body.

  The faint flutter of the poster against the fence was a reminder of how my world had changed so suddenly. Again. First my father’s unexpected death, then the incident, and now this. I had the worst luck in the world.

  How long would it take before Carey returned?

  Restless and tired of the heat already, I opened my eyes after a while and frowned. Something was blocking my view of the sun. It looked like … an envelope?

  My first thought – that I’d somehow vaulted another ten years into the future without noticing – scared me enough that I leapt up and circled the door to ensure it wasn’t locked. My nerves calmed some to see it wasn’t and I centered myself before returning to the front of the door.

  The envelope remained.

  Caretaker was written on the front.

  I debated leaving it for Carey, but another flare of anger made me reach out to take the envelope.

  I opened it and found a letter inside. Withdrawing it, I sat down against the door once more to read. The letter was dated the day before the Caretaker died.

  “If you’re reading this, you’ve been selected to become the next Caretaker at this location, a lifelong assignment that ends only with your death. The deed to the property has been recorded in your name, and you may take possession immediately. You MUST rebuild the refuge around this door, for it will not ever move. The houses and Caretakers may change, but the door never will. Our visitors are relying upon us to help them create peace among their worlds. Our existence, and our duties, are essential in creating universal harmony.

  For advice and assistance, contact the Caretaker Council. You know how to reach them. As always, never lock the door.”

  I read through it again, frowning, and then twisted to stare up at the door. The letter hadn’t been there when I sat down originally – this much I knew. If this is true, and the door – and its property – now belonged to me, then my decision about my future just became much more complicated.

  I tucked the letter away and chewed my lower lip, staring at the end of the driveway, where the invisible portal was located.

  I didn’t deserve to be a Caretaker, not after what I’d done. But didn’t I owe it to Teyan and those like him to takeover the duty, to provide them a refuge? If I walked away, did the Council choose another Caretaker, or could there only be another if I died? And if I didn’t die for eighty years, what happened to those who came through, seeking refuge? They’d have nowhere to go and no one to help them.

  I’d never had a purpose in my life. One had fallen into my hands, and it not only came with duties of epic importance, it came with a home.

  Sort of. It came with property on which I could build a home, which was more than we’d ever be able to afford in New York.

  Given my track record, though, wasn’t it better to decline the duty and let someone more responsible, less emotionally fragile, take over?

  I lifted the memory rock before my eyes.

  The image of Teyan crushed me.

  He would never walk away from an ally or a duty. Perhaps, if I ever wanted to be a better person, to become someone who wasn’t so afraid of everything, I had to take one last chance on something that terrified me.

  I might see him again, if I stay here. Assuming he was alive, and I hadn’t destroyed the ot
her worlds, and my mother was alive, and I didn’t crack and end up in a mental institution. This sense of urgency, and accompanying rush of adrenaline, hadn’t been experienced since the night I fought off my attacker. Except this time, I really was helpless. I could only wait in agony for Carey to return, for news of my family.

  My eyes went to the spot where the driveway met the road.

  I could only wait and hope Teyan was alive and hadn’t forgotten me.

  Ten years?

  ***

  “The Door (Part Two) Available Feb 7!

  Also by Lizzy Ford …

  Non-Series – 2014 & 2015

  Black Moon Draw (about a reader sucked into her book)

  Highlander Enchanted

  The Door (2016)

  Water Spell (2016)

  Dragon Tear (2016)

  Trial Series

  Trial by Moon

  Trial by Thrall

  Trial by Blood (2016)

  Trial by Heart (2016)

  Super Villainess Chronicles

  It’s Not Easy Being Evil

  It’s Complicated

  (untitled)

  Lost Vegas Novellas – young adult post apocalyptic

  Aveline

  Tiana

  Arthur

  Singing Coyote

  History Interrupted – Time Travel Romantic Adventures

  West

  East

  North (2016)

  South (2017)

  Omega Beginnings Miniseries – individual episodes

  Alessandra

  Mismatch

  Phoibe

  Lantos

  Theodosia

  Niko

  Cleon

  Herakles

  Omega Beginnings Miniseries – complete set

  Omega Series

  Omega

  Theta (2016)