The Doorway God

by Tom Early

  I shattered it without even noticing I was doing so. One moment it was running, and the next there was a slight touch, a slight pressure, and then I was walking past the fractured remains of a frozen statue. Another group broke off from the swarm and advanced more cautiously. They too were wiped away, and I still hadn’t given it any conscious thought. Given the haze of snow and ice inside my mind, though, I wasn’t sure I was capable of that much anyway.

  I felt rather than saw Janus shift his attention to me. “Pity,” he rumbled, his voices overlapping eerily. “I was hoping to have a little more fun before it came time to take things seriously. I’d half expected you to die in that cage of mine, little human.”

  My mouth opened, and I was barely aware of forming the words. “Then you shouldn’t have opened the door, interloper,” I said in a voice like crackling floes of ice. “You should have known better than to finish what the other started.”

  Janus peered down at me, placing his hands on his knees and lowering his head to my level. He turned his back on the entire university as he did so, the ultimate insult. Apparently he thought his homunculi were enough to keep them busy. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you?” Janus asked, his voice mild, almost curious. “You’re a child given the power of a god much diminished. Winter has been gone for thousands of years, and you’ve had them in you for barely a year. I felt their return, during the Trials held so close above my head. That’s not enough time for them to be a threat.”

  I rose to his eyes on a pillar of twisting frost and met him with a smile. “That’s where you’re wrong, I fear. I’ve been back for a little longer than that.” Janus had a moment to let what I’d said register in his mind, and then he was pulling back, energy pouring off his form as his mouths opened in a roar—and I leaned forward and touched a hand to his brow.

  He was still straightening up as it happened. His two-faced head was the first to go, ice crackling in a roar over the flesh, jagged lines of it crisscrossing the rest of his massive form, devouring his energy as it came into contact with them. His eyes were still barely able to move while the ice was thickening, and he raised one massive arm to bring it crashing down on me. I carelessly made a cutting gesture in his direction and a gleaming scythe of cold sent the offending limb flying far away, blood not even leaving the stump before it too was covered in ice. He forced his mouth open to roar one last time, and then he was gone. As one, the homunculi stopped moving, and then slowly faded away. I stared contemplatively up at the ugly statue Janus left behind. It really didn’t suit my tastes, so I shattered it and walked easily through the deadly rain of debris.

  There were cries of pain from the humans by the remaining structures as ice rained down on the unlucky few who didn’t have their Wards ready. The snow in my mind was now a raging blizzard—all I saw was the heat of their bodies, waiting to be snuffed out like everything else. That was what Winter was for. That was the role of the Final Season. My role, now.

  I advanced toward them slowly, giving them a chance to put up a fight. I wasn’t going to be unfair about it. Something about the way I walked must have given them cause to worry, because the ice rose up to protect me a moment later as they started their assault. Flashes of incandescent color, energy that charged the air enough to set my hair on end, and enough raw force to slightly crack my Ward for the barest moment before it repaired itself. I was impressed. A few more sparks of heat disappeared—not my doing. Fleeing, I reasoned. I couldn’t blame them. Survival was as much their role as the end was mine.

  I raised my hands and felt the rumble in the air as my power gathered. I’d do it in one blow. There were a few sparks with brighter glows than the rest advancing toward me. One of them, its fire a strange, flat gray, was trying to speak, but the words couldn’t get past the storm in my head, and I was so tired. Maybe… maybe the storm would just stop if the heat went away. I think I said something to that extent out loud, because the gray form flinched, and then more and more sparks of heat started to disappear. Part of me was glad, and hoping more would run and be safe. Mostly, though, I didn’t care. I brought my hands down, and the avalanche came crashing down with them.

  “Enough.” There was a burst of familiar heat and light, and then I felt my avalanche melt into a roaring wave under the sun’s burning heat, felt the water pushed aside by tempest winds, and watched as the green and growing soil drank it greedily up. “Enough, Feayr,” said the first of the new three, each glowing more brightly than anything I’d seen before. “You promised that you would succeed at this. We put our faith in you. Do not fail us now.”

  Who was Feayr? I knew the name, but I wasn’t sure where from.

  “I thought something like this might happen,” another muttered. It had horns, and colors of shifting autumn. “Give us a little more time, Summer. She’s almost back.”

  “Feayr, I know you’re in there,” the third said desperately. “I still see it in you, the desire to finally be safe, and to keep others safe. You don’t want this. You’ll hurt people if you continue.”

  “Let me handle this,” the gray voice from before snapped. “I can reach the boy. I still have his first victim. If reason cannot bring him back, then guilt will.” It stepped forward and spread its hands. “I know you’re in there, Feayr. Do you see what happens when you do not follow my instructions? Death and destruction, all of it your fault. You remember Aria, don’t you?” Pain. Sorrow. Regret. The storm was getting worse, frozen tears tracking down my cheeks. “Ah, I see you do. Do you know how many more like her you have already created, without even thinking? How many more? It’s a wonder you can even think for yourself at all.” It held up a hand, pulsating with strange power, and all of a sudden his voice was so much clearer, and the other three were being pushed back. “I saved this for you,” he said, his voice comfortable and warm. “I’ve spent centuries gathering relics of power, transferring their energies into this. My last resort. Come with me, Feayr, and I will strip Winter from you and force the Seasons back into the void. Come with me, and you will never have cause to worry again.”

  I reached out blindly, the light pulling me in. The voice was my friend. I trusted it, I cared for it, it held all the answers I would ever need. Then there was a slight “pop!” and two sparks came flying out of nowhere from directly behind the gray man. “Like hell I’m letting him go with you,” one of the voices snarled, and then she was on him, fists slamming into his face while his guard was down, and the strange pulsing light fluttered in and out, on and off.

  And then the other one was standing in front of me. He was all white and blue, colors matching my own. He reached out to me, and the storm parted without my permission, recognizing the familiarity. I could see him smiling, even through the whirling snow. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me without a moment’s hesitation. “Come back, Fay,” Tyler said, and the storm was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  MY EYES finally opened, and I saw Tyler smiling at me, his skin red from the cold, and Sam beating the shit out of Didas, her fists slamming into his face hard and fast enough to keep him from focusing. The Argent Sphinx and the other Speakers were holding back the Seasons as best they could, and only barely managing. Lailah and Summer had a black eye from where Didas’s power had hit her, and she was grinning with blood shining on her teeth as she dueled Sekhmene with blades of gleaming sunlight. The other Speakers were trying to catch Fall as he skimmed through the air as lightly as a leaf, throwing gusts of wind their way at every opportunity. Septimus’s horns were starting to fade away, his red eyes now an earthy brown, and there was a circlet of leaves around his hair. Spring was… well, it looked like she was chatting with Speaker Alferon, letting her plants deal with the other Speaker, who kept throwing plumes of fire and ash at her back, not even bothering to give them her full attention. Didas was reaching for his orb, and I threw out a hand and froze him where he lay, careful not to get Sam in the process. She yelped and stood up after the first time her fist connected with the ice
, then looked at me.

  “Remind me,” she said, storming up to me. Tyler wisely slipped out of the way. “What was it that you said you were all done with?”

  “Technically that wasn’t possession…,” I began. Sam’s glare went up a few notches, and I decided that now would be a good time to shut up.

  “Do not test me right now, Fay,” she said, but she was smiling, and then we were hugging. I glanced at Tyler over her shoulder, and he gave me a “what can you do” shrug and a grin.

  “I’m good for now,” I said, stepping back. I could feel a sort of contented rumble from the snow deep in my mind. It’d take a while to build up in force again. “I don’t think you have to worry about me going on a rampage, at least.” I glanced at Didas, and my heart dropped. “He said I had….”

  “You didn’t hurt anyone, Feayr,” Spring said, coming up with Alferon trailing behind her. The other Seasons were finishing up with the rest of the Speakers. “At least not permanently. He simply said that to manipulate you.” She shuddered, and I noticed how many of the flowers that made up her dress were gray and withered. “He caught us off guard with that nasty little artifact as well.”

  I sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” I said fervently. Tyler came back up next to me, leaning in without being asked, providing support that was desperately needed. “Hey,” I managed, smiling up at him. “I hear you kind of just saved the day.”

  He gave me another expansive shrug, but his eyes were dancing. “What can I say? If you’re in trouble, well, there’s nothing I won’t do to help.”

  “Even if that means hugging a potentially homicidal Season?” I asked, staring up at him. I really had no idea how I’d gotten so lucky.

  “Even that,” Tyler agreed. Then winced. “Though I’d prefer if you didn’t make me do that anymore. I think my fingers are half frozen right now.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I said, grinning like an idiot. I was pretty sure we were just sort of staring at each other now. I wondered if the Seasons had any objections to PDA. I had a feeling that Spring probably didn’t, but I was also fairly certain Summer would kill me and be done with it.

  “If you kill me with cheesy romance after I just survived that, I will haunt your ass,” Sam said loudly. “Time and place, Polar Bear.”

  “I nominate my bed tonight, then,” Tyler said, shamelessly raising his hand. Sam had clearly been rubbing off on him. Actually, she looked impressed. I’d probably have been impressed too, if I wasn’t close enough to see just how much he was blushing. Then Summer was approaching, and I desperately motioned for Tyler to put his hand down and not do anything annoying. I also might have stepped in front of him reflexively. I’ll never tell.

  Summer looked out on the desolate ruin I’d made of the university behind me, and then met my eyes. “Can you control it?” she asked.

  I knew better than to lie to her. “No,” I said, lowering my eyes. “If Tyler hadn’t come when he did, I’d probably have just kept going.”

  I half expected a ray of sunlight to simply come down and fry me right then, but to my surprise Summer nodded. “You have the courage to admit it, at least. And I can sense the rest. Winter is gone, merged with you.” She gave me a knowing look. “It’s not quite what you expected, is it?” It wasn’t a question.

  I shook my head. “All of its power is mine, yeah, but so is all that rage and instinct. If I don’t actively hold myself back, just being near people is enough to hurt them.” I gave her a pleading look. “Can you help me stop that?”

  Spring and Fall both came up, falling in to flank Summer as easily and naturally as breathing. They all nodded. “We can,” Summer said finally. “And we will. Fall has been investigating what has happened to this world in our absence.” She shook her head, braids waving slightly with the motion. “There is much we must put to right. Janus was not the only interloper to come visiting. It is our duty to push them all out.” She looked at me. “It is your duty as well.”

  I swallowed. “I know.” I cleared my throat. “Didas wanted to make me a weapon for him to use. He didn’t care about what I wanted, or about me as a person. I’ll be Winter. I get that that’s my duty. But I still get to be Fay as well.” I looked at where Sam and Tyler were standing, both right next to me, and I loved them for it. “I still get to be me.”

  Spring gave me a luminous smile, and Fall had the tiniest smirk on his face. Summer was impassive as always, but she gave the slightest of nods. “Lailah has taught me the value of balancing duty with truly living. Now that you are not an enemy, I will no longer need her as a host, but the lesson still stands. You’ll be allowed to continue with your life, but”—she gave the most disdainful look I’d ever seen in my life at Didas’s frozen body—“I think you can find a better use of your time than studying at this place.”

  “I’ve spoken with Alferon,” Spring said. “He has some ideas about new Speakers, and I think he’ll do an excellent job as the new headmaster. He won’t be able to teach you very much, of course, but there are plenty of other students who deserve to continue their educations.”

  Tyler raised his hand. “I vote you get rid of the Trials, like immediately.” He paused. “I mean, uh, I don’t actually go here, but those were hell, so just don’t.”

  Sam started to pout, and I covered her mouth with my hand before she could complain. “Fighting’s good and all, but it shouldn’t be the number-one most valued thing,” I said. “Especially if we’re here to keep dangerous things out again.”

  Alferon gave me a smile from where he stood behind Spring. “I can agree with that.”

  “Awesome,” Tyler said, grinning, and then frowned as Didas started to move. “Now what?”

  “I’ll help make sure Alferon learns everything he needs to from Didas,” Fall said, stepping forward to loom over Didas’s body. “Then I’ll take care of the problem.”

  I was pretty sure he meant he was going to kill Didas, and that didn’t bother me at all. I wondered absentmindedly if that made me a bad person and then decided I didn’t care. Though actually….

  “There’s still one thing I need from him,” I said, staring down at Didas’s face, frozen in an expression of twisted rage. Funny how this was the first time I’d seen him showing any real, lasting emotion. “I need to know where to find Aria Tempestas.”

  Spring closed her eyes, and dappled green light pulsated beneath her skin in rhythms that reminded me of writhing vines. The light slipped out from her and danced across the frozen campus in the span of a few seconds. Then it all flowed back into her, and she opened her eyes again. “I feel the threads of a single life, holding on with determination despite all odds. She is beneath the Garden.” She turned to me. “Would you like me to take you there?”

  I nodded. “I have a debt to pay. To begin to pay, at least.”

  “I’m coming too,” Sam said firmly, striding up to stand next to me.

  Tyler looked at us, then shrugged. “I go where you go.”

  “We’ll take care of matters here,” Summer said. “Spring, meet us back here with Fay when you’re done.” She looked at me. “Say your goodbyes when you finish. We have work to do, if you are to learn control.”

  “I know,” I said steadily. “I just need to make this right.”

  Then come closer,” Spring said, holding out her arms. “I’ll take you there now.” We all stepped toward her, and then the ground burst forth with greenery and life, rising up in a moment to surround us, fill our vision with flowers of all colors, only to scatter and blow away, revealing the all-white room where Aria still lay, barely breathing.

  Sam made a noise caught somewhere between a whimper and a growl as she got her bearings and reached out to clasp Aria’s unmoving hand. Tyler paled at seeing her there, and I gripped his hand tightly. Spring merely strode forward and laid a hand on the girl’s brow, as if checking for a temperature. She turned to me. “As I thought, there is a shard of your power within her still. It keeps her from healing.�
� She motioned me over, and I looked down on her, feeling the truth of Spring’s words. Aria’s body was colder than it had any right to be, and I could still see the sliver of pale blue light, lodged in her back. I had no idea how to remove it.

  Spring put her hand on top of mine. “You know,” she said gently, “before Winter turned, they and I were the closest of the Seasons. Summer stands opposite to them by her very nature, and Fall is distant to everyone. But together, Winter and I were responsible for keeping the cycle of life together.” Her emerald eyes looked deeply into mine. “Winter’s storms were deadly, yes, but necessary. In their wake, the world was left covered in pure, driven white. They removed the old and the dying, ended their torment, and left room for what was new. When their snow melted, it provided the life-giving waters I used to bring everything back. The shard in this girl is no different. Picture it melting, and you will give me the power I need to do the rest.”

  She guided my hand to rest on the center of Aria’s chest, and then I closed my eyes and let go. My power flowed smoothly out from my hand, met with the shard, and ever so gently, let it disappear. I lifted my hand, and Spring took my place. She furrowed her brow, concentrating, and then Aria gasped as her body jackknifed upright, color flooding back into her cheeks as life, pure and unrelenting, flowed into her. Sam stood up, alarmed, and together we watched the change. I could see the unhealthy gray beneath her brown skin get washed away by the rosy pink undertones of good health, and then there was a tearing sound as two beautiful, black-and-white wings grew out from her back, the feathers glossy and new. Aria had a moment to look around with startled, wide eyes, and then Spring touched her on her heart lightly. She closed her eyes once more and fell back onto the bed with a soft sigh. Sam let out a choked sob and grabbed on to Aria’s hand again as she let her tears fall freely.