Antiquity's Gate: Sanctuary

by RF Hurteau

  Felix sighed. “You’re in no position to make demands,” he said softly.

  “Felix,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes, “Felix, please. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I tricked you. I should have told you the truth.” She was shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ve been tormented for so long, afraid for so long. I forgot what it was like, to trust someone, completely. I forgot what it was like to be loved. I never meant to hurt you. And I swear, on my life, that I will never do it again.”

  Felix stared at her, long, and hard. He wanted to believe her. Every fiber of his being longed to believe her. “How can I trust you, after what you did?” he asked mournfully.

  “You can’t,” Ambrose interrupted. “She’s broken your trust. She’s done terrible things. She put all of us in danger for her own selfish goals. And you may never be able to trust her again.” Onyx looked down, ashamed.

  Ambrose continued. “But, as twisted as her motives may have been, everything she did, she did out of love. A love for her sons. And a hatred for those who tore your family apart. She’s been living inside a nightmare for thirty years, Felix. I think that, even if you can’t trust her, you ought to be able to give her a little grace.”

  Felix didn’t speak. He thought of his own nightmares, of all the guilt and rage he’d been battling since all of this began. How it kept piling up, threatening to engulf him. Slowly, he found himself nodding. “Yeah. I think I could use some, too.”

  Onyx gave a sobbing exhale and ran to him, throwing her arms around him. He found himself once again returning his mother’s tear-filled embrace, though slightly more hesitantly than before. The innocence of their reunion was lost. It felt tainted.

  “I’m so sorry,” she cried into his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I know,” he said. A part of him wanted to comfort her further, to promise forgiveness, to shower her with thirty years of lost love. But the rest of him was still too upset over last night’s events. It would take time, he told himself. He just needed a little time.

  He pulled away and looked at Gavin. “I’m going to need your help.”

  Gavin nodded.

  If not for the whole, messed-up situation they were in, the trip would have been quite relaxing. Felix was in no mood for conversation and was grateful for Gavin’s predisposition toward silence. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes and letting the warm air wash over him.

  “Look alive,” said Gavin suddenly.

  “What, are we there already?” said Felix, opening his eyes, thinking perhaps he had drifted off. The Floater was slowing down, and Imradia loomed up ahead. Beside the city Gates, in stark contrast to the gleaming white marble, leaned a hooded figure. Felix wasn’t able to make out whether it was a male or female. The cloak was not the fine material or right color for an Evictus, but rather a faded, threadbare grey. Felix stared as they went past, and although he could not see any eyes, the hood followed them, which made Felix feel certain that the figure was staring back.

  “What do you make of that?” asked Felix quietly as they passed.

  Gavin’s eyes did not waver from his path. “Beggar,” he said, “most likely.”

  “Beggars? You mean you have poverty here?” Felix asked, craning his head to stare backwards at the figure. “I thought all life was precious to your people.”

  Gavin scoffed, and his mouth twitched. “Life, perhaps. They don’t kill, sure. But so what?” he grumbled bitterly. “There are worse things.”

  Felix said nothing.

  They entered the Council Chambers not long thereafter, and Gavin stepped to the side of the door, standing at attention and leaving Felix to fumble through on his own. Nero was sitting at the large table alone. He didn’t glance up, or offer an acknowledgement, but Felix knew he was aware of his presence. He pulled up a chair, trying to appear confident, which was difficult. He could not think of a single person who hated him more than Nero did, and they had never sat alone in a room together. But if he had any chance of saving Bohai, he would need information. Where to find him, for starters.

  Neither spoke for several minutes. Felix was pretty good at reading people, and he could tell that anything he said was likely to be enough to throw Nero over the edge. He decided to wait him out.

  At last, Nero spoke. “I spent one hundred and twenty-five years on that filthy planet,” he said slowly. “One hundred and twenty-five years. Of all the Councilors in Sanctuary, I was the only one to retain my seat upon our return. I’m offered a Lordship, something I worked over a century to achieve, and what do I find out?” He turned to Felix. “That Laevus, half-blood son to a traitor, not even thirty, was offered a Lordship, too.” He cocked his head, starting at Felix with a look of disgust. “Do you have any idea how dirty that made me feel?” He went on. “And, to add insult to injury, you had to go and look exactly like that…that…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence. “He stole my daughter!” he growled at last. He stared around at all the empty chairs. “They were the ones who made me work so hard for it. They gave it to you without a second thought. But they’re all dead, now.”

  Felix was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute. What was Nero getting at?

  But the moment of introspection had passed. Nero drew himself up to his full height and turned to glare at Felix. “I want you to take a half-dozen Evicti through the Gate and bring back that prototype vehicle the Ambassador spoke of,” he said. “A little something for our troubles. It may not fit many at once, but it could still prove useful.”

  Felix didn’t like the sound of that. “And his crew?”

  “Kill them. Let it be a poor payment for the lives their leader stole from us.”

  Felix was thinking quickly now. “Perhaps I should take the Ambassador along,” he began.

  “No,” said Nero, with an air of finality.

  “It’s possible we won’t be able to pilot this prototype,” Felix said, his voice cool and silky. “We may need him to help…persuade…his friends to bring it through the Gate. And then, once they’re no longer useful…”

  Nero stood, towering over Felix, his face menacing. “You might have been used to a certain amount of coddling from the old Council,” he hissed. “You might have been their little pet project. You probably learned how to manipulate from that snake charmer, Pike. But let me make one thing perfectly clear.” He bent low to whisper in Felix’s ear. “If you step one foot out of line with me, I swear, you will pay dearly. I am the new Council. And the new Council does not recognize sanctity of life in regard to Halfsies. Do you understand me?”

  Felix swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Bring me the prototype. After that, we’ll talk more about your future role here.”

  * * *

  Felix’s heart was still pounding when he stepped outside of the Council building. Nero had not taken the bait. He looked around and found Gavin, waiting patiently outside the door.

  “Come on,” he said quietly, “I’ll fill you in on the ride.”

  “So, what’s the new plan?” Gavin asked after Felix recounted what had transpired with Nero.

  “Where would they be holding Bohai?”

  Gavin turned down a small side street and brought the Floater to a stop, then turned to stare at Felix. “Please tell me you’re smarter than I’m giving you credit for. You do value your life, do you not? Because if you go against Nero’s wishes, and you’re caught, that’s the end of the road for you.”

  “I think it’s a little ironic, you trying to lecture me on bad plans” Felix said, then added in a lower voice, “You and my mother captured Laevus and killed three Evicti, and I didn’t see you debating the merits of her decision.”

  Gavin’s expression remained unreadable. “Onyx said she was sure.”

  “Well, I’m sure, too,” Felix replied firmly.

  “You’re just as stubborn as she is,” Gavin said. He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. “There might be
a way,” he said after a long moment.

  “Excellent!” said Felix, eagerly, “So what’s this way of yours require, exactly?”

  “Not what,” Gavin said, shaking his head. “Who.”

  Gavin brought the Floater out of city and went east until he reached a grove of ancient-looking Elm trees. The vehicle came to a stop, and they dismounted, Felix giving Gavin a wide birth as the larger man walked around, scanning the ground.

  “It’s around here somewhere,” he grumbled. “Just been a while. Ah, there we go.” He stooped down, brushing aside some fallen leaves and branches to reveal a small handle.

  “So…what am I looking at?” Felix asked. Gavin, who had been staring at the handle, turned his gaze to Felix.

  “My past,” he said. Then, without another word, he reached out and grasped the handle, pulling it to reveal a shaft whose bottom was lost in darkness. “Come on,” he said, swinging his legs over the opening and disappearing inside.

  Felix leaned over to watch him descend and saw a rusty ladder attached to one wall of the shaft. “Uh, exactly how much past are we talking? Because those rungs look a little questionable to me.”

  “It will hold. Just come on and close the door behind you.”

  Felix shrugged and, mimicking Gavin, lowered himself down, pulling the trap door down behind him and casting them both into darkness.

  It wasn’t long before, reaching down for the next rung, Felix’s foot found solid ground. He let go of the ladder and turned his head from side to side, but it was no use—it was completely black.

  “This way,” said Gavin, and Felix followed the sound of his voice, then the rhythmic beat of his footfalls. They walked for a while like that, Gavin occasionally murmuring something like “Right here,” or, “stay to the left.”

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re under the city. These tunnels have been here a lot longer than Imradia has.”

  “And…who are we expecting to find down here again?” Felix asked, imagining what kind of person would live down here.

  Gavin was silent for so long that Felix had begun to wonder if maybe he hadn’t heard the question. When his answer came, he spoke slowly, as if the words pained him.

  “I was young, once,” he said, as if this might be hard for Felix to believe. “And foolish. I set my sights on a career as an Evictus. I thought that I would be doing my part to help protect the heritage of my people. I never really stopped to think about who I’d be protecting them from, or why.”

  He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “I lost both of my parents during the Great War. My hatred for the enemies of my people consumed me. My desire for revenge was so great, that I poured myself into my training. I excelled at everything I tried, except for discipline. I was never any good at following orders.

  “I was assigned a mentor who took me under his wing. He taught me so many things. He taught me how to listen, but he also taught me the wisdom to question what I was hearing. He tamed my bloodlust and taught me how to master my emotions. He showed me what our leaders truly were and what they’d been hiding. He showed me truth, something for which I will forever be in his debt. He was, and is, the wisest person I have ever had the opportunity to know.”

  “So, what happened to him?” Felix asked, trying to keep his mind off the gradually narrowing passage. He didn’t really like small spaces.

  “Together, he and I founded an organization intended to preserve the truth. We gathered recruits from across Thera, even amongst the very enemies against whom I had sworn revenge. We worked to spread knowledge to all people, in the hopes of someday bringing peace back to a broken and corrupt world.”

  Felix thought about this for a while. It smelled like mold down here. Mold and sadness. And when Gavin wasn’t speaking, Felix was certain he could hear the skittering of rats. It hardly seemed like the type of place a great revolution would have been born. “If this guy is so great, why does he live alone, underground, in the dark?”

  “He disappeared for a long time. Without his guidance, our fledgling movement quickly crumbled under the crushing weight of the Council. They sought us out, scattered us far and wide and destroyed everything we’d worked to build. When he suddenly reappeared six months ago, he began reaching out, finding us, building our network up again. But he must do so from hiding, and the work has been slow. Especially since some of us no longer wish to be a part of his dreams. It’s been a long time for all of us. We have built new dreams. Smaller ones, yes. But attainable.”

  “So, he’s probably not very happy with you, is he?”

  “No,” said Gavin flatly, “probably not.”

  “But you think he’ll help us?”

  “Regardless of how he feels about me personally, he is still a defender of truth. He will still champion a just cause.”

  Felix nodded. “Good. So, does he have a name?”

  Gavin’s voice floated out of the darkness, carrying with it the bitter melody of sadness and regret. “He’s had many names. Myself, I had grown to call him Father. But to everyone else, he was known as the Weaver.”

  * * *

  Gavin stopped short, and Felix, still blind, ran right into him. “Sorry,” he murmured. Gavin reached forward, feeling for something in the inky blackness. There was the sound of metal on metal, a creaking, and then light flooded out into the tunnel.

  Felix shut his eyes quickly, then blinked several times in rapid succession. His eyes gradually grew accustomed to the light as he followed Gavin into a small, round room with several other doors. The ceiling was low, except for in the very center, where a foot-wide channel led straight up and out of sight. A small fire crackled on the earthen floor beneath it, casting dancing shadows on the curved walls. A hooded man sat beside it, chopping some kind of root into small pieces. With a start, Felix realized it was the same man they’d seen earlier by the city Gates.

  The man lowered his hood, revealing long, brilliant white hair and green eyes. He looked at Gavin and frowned. “You could have brought some wood,” he said sullenly. “I’m old, and it’s a long walk, you know?” He stood and gestured for them to come closer. “Don’t just stand in the doorway. In or out, make up your mind. I’ve got some soup going for us.”

  “For us?” Felix asked in surprise. “How did you know we were coming?”

  “I saw you come to the city, and I saw you leave the city,” the man said. “And then, I saw you come again. I would recognize Gavin anywhere. He always did wear the uniform so well.”

  Gavin walked forward and gave the man a tight hug. “It’s good to see you, Father,” he said.

  “And you,” the man replied, nodding in Felix’s direction. “Hello, Felix,” he offered with a smile.

  Felix felt his eyebrows disappear beneath his hair. “How did you—”

  “Tut, tut, a master never divulges his secrets,” the Weaver said, still smiling.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “He’s kept tabs on you your entire life. He promised Onyx he would.”

  “Wait, what?” Felix sank to the floor, suddenly wanting to sit before he fell over. “Are you saying that this guy was in Sanctuary?”

  The Weaver nodded sadly. “From its first day, to its last. I harbored a great deal of guilt when I discovered what the Council had done. Guilt for failing the people of Sanctuary, but also for not saving you in particular. So, you’ll excuse me if I was more than a little surprised, seeing you in that Floater with Gavin, six months after Sanctuary was supposedly destroyed.”

  “How did you know I wasn’t Laevus?”

  The Weaver gave a hearty laugh. “The day Gavin chauffeurs Laevus all over Imradia is the day I get appointed as The Most-High Elder! So, tell me, young Felix, how is it that you’ve come to be here in Imradia after what transpired in Sanctuary?”

  Felix glanced at Gavin, who inclined his head slightly. “Sanctuary wasn’t destroyed,” he explained. “We discovered the Council’s plans before they left, and we were able to stop them.”
<
br />   “We?”

  Felix nodded. “My friends and I. Some of them are here, with me, on this mission. One of them,” he swallowed hard, “one of them died saving the rest of us.”

  The Weaver’s expression was sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said quietly. “I, too, have lost friends. Dear friends, whose sacrifices made our continued fight possible.” With this, he cast a sad glance toward Gavin. “Do not let your friend’s sacrifice be in vain, Felix. Do not give up the good fight. Nor consider your own well-being to be more important than that of those around you.”

  “I’ve given you my reasons. I won’t defend them again,” said Gavin, who looked angry. “This isn’t my fight anymore. You were gone a long time, old man. Things have changed.”

  The Weaver put his hands up in surrender, shaking his head sadly. “Not enough, I’m afraid. And not the right things. But perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the time. So, what brings you to my humble abode?”

  “Nero is holding the Culeian Ambassador prisoner,” said Felix, wanting to head Gavin off before he tried to put a negative spin on the whole idea. “I want to free him and get him and my friends back through the Evenmire. Only…”

  “Only you don’t know where to find him?”

  Felix nodded.

  The Weaver clasped both hands behind his back and began to walk the small room in a slow circle, staring at his feet as he pondered Felix’s request. “As it turns out,” he said, “I do know where to find your Ambassador. I’ve been following these proceedings with great interest. Things certainly took an unexpected turn, didn’t they? It just so happens that I have a man who can get you where you need to go. However…” he trailed off.

  “What? What is it?” Felix had gotten to his feet, too, and was following the man’s slow rotation around the room with hopeful eyes.

  “Getting him out will be easy. But getting you, him, and your friends back through the Evenmire? Well, that’s another matter entirely.”

  “How so?”

  “Nero has sent a dozen Evicti to stand watch at the Evenmire, in case the Culeians decide to send anyone else through. Apparently, he swallowed that drivel about the Ambassador being the culprit. Honestly, I thought he was smarter than that. But apparently, his hatred of Humanity outweighs his better judgment.” He shook his head. “Honestly, Gavin, how you could have let her go through with it? She could have gotten you all killed.”