Mirror Gate

by Jeff Wheeler

  “Can it be used to find her?” Juliana asked with a tone of challenge.

  He shrugged. “It’s working now.”

  “Then we’re coming with you,” Juliana demanded.

  The officer, whose face had been getting redder every moment Juliana ignored him, looked incensed. “You have no right to interfere . . .”

  “I have every right. It’s my niece who was taken. The man may still be on board my ship.”

  “He’s not,” Caulton said. Then he gave Cettie a long, piercing look. “It’s all right, Captain,” he said to the officer standing next to him. “They should come with us.”

  Several more soldiers joined them as they walked together across the grounds, and it became obvious to Cettie that Caulton was following directions he was receiving from the Cruciger orb. He gazed at it from time to time and altered his direction slightly. She could still sense the music coming from it, a strange and interesting tune. As she listened, she began to pick the sounds apart, almost like they were layers of music. It was divining intentions and alternatives. This device was much more complex than most of the Leerings she’d encountered. Zephyrs zoomed overhead, and the captain of the soldiers would periodically raise his wrist, exposing a band around his arm with a stone fixed into it. Its purpose was obscure to her. He didn’t say anything, but Cettie could perceive the flex of his thoughts.

  “Daylight is ebbing,” Caulton said in warning. “We will need some sky ships to fly overhead and provide us with light, Captain.”

  “Of course,” replied the officer.

  The orb led them into the cider orchard. The ladders used to harvest fruit had been abandoned, for all the groundskeepers had been summoned back to their dwellings. Cettie noticed soldiers with arquebuses were moving ahead of them, to the sides, and behind.

  “Why don’t we take a sky ship?” Juliana asked brusquely.

  “If that were the best way, it would have told me,” Caulton replied patiently.

  “You keep altering your path,” Juliana said. “Are you following the trail they took? You’re not even looking for tracks.”

  “No, I am not,” Caulton agreed. When they reached the edge of the orchard, he paused and studied the smooth surface of the orb. Cettie heard a subtle whirring emanating from the orb—a completely new sound—and felt a strange accompanying sensation. It looked as if some odd writing had risen to the golden surface, but she was not close enough to read it. Caulton frowned and gazed ahead into the woods.

  “How far are we, Forshee?” the captain asked him, wrinkling his brow.

  “I don’t know for certain. He carried her to this point. Then they started walking together. She was terrified.” He sniffed. “I can almost smell it. This way.”

  Leaving the orchard, they started across a field of deep grass. At the far end, there was a wall of trees and hedges marking the boundaries of the abbey grounds. Cettie knew they would have to leave, and her skin began to crawl. The sun was going down, but no one showed any signs of relinquishing the search. She didn’t wish to stop, either, and yet . . . nighttime was when the ghosts came out. That was when their power was the strongest. And they would be outside the protections of the grounds.

  She wrenched her thoughts away from the ghosts and gritted her teeth. Thoughts were powerful, she reminded herself. Thoughts could invite the very demons she wanted to shun.

  “Are you all right?” Caulton Forshee asked her in a low voice. She hadn’t noticed him slow down to walk alongside her.

  “Are we going to be leaving the grounds?” she asked him, trying to control the throb of worry in her voice.

  “Most certainly,” he answered. “The trail clearly goes beyond them. You are nervous about leaving the borders, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” Cettie answered, keeping her voice pitched low.

  “Well, my father always taught me this. Maybe it will be helpful to you. Face your fear. Do what makes you uncomfortable. Lean into the discomfort instead of shunning it.”

  “That sounds like something the Aldermaston just said to me,” Cettie said with a smile.

  “Indeed?” He radiated strong self-confidence. Another zephyr whooshed overhead. “Captain,” Forshee said, nodding to the sky. “Have them start circling the northern borders while we go east. It will make them think we are searching over there. I don’t want our foe to know we are coming quite yet.”

  “If you say so,” replied the captain.

  After they closed the distance to the trees, Cettie stared at the shade and shadows that were gathering on the horizon. The sun would last awhile longer now that it was nearly summer, but she knew they were about to enter a place of danger. She steadied herself, heeding his advice, and rubbed her arms. She felt the boundaries of the abbey, a tightly woven mesh of magic that stretched from Leering to Leering. But there was something there, a disruption. When they reached the boundary line and paused, she felt it. There was a gap in the magic now. As if the mesh had been tugged aside and fixed. Caulton Forshee stood right at the opening and stared at it inquisitively.

  “How curious,” he murmured.

  “What’s curious?” Juliana asked, hands on her hips.

  “The boundary was lifted,” Cettie heard herself say.

  All of them looked at her. She flushed with embarrassment. “I-I don’t know how he did it.”

  “But you can sense it, can’t you?” Caulton said, eyeing her again. “You have interesting gifts. This explains how he got into the grounds undetected. The wardings aren’t broken. Let’s close the open door, shall we?” He looked at Cettie. “Would you like to do it?”

  “I don’t . . . really . . . know how,” she said anxiously.

  “Just try,” he coaxed.

  Cettie moistened her lips and took a deep breath. She walked up to the edge of the boundary and tried to sense the strands of magic holding the barrier open. Again, it was like listening to music. The sound of the Cruciger orb was distracting at first, but as she fell deeper into herself, she began to sense the different layers of magic comprising the protection spell. The disruption was beautifully woven and incredibly subtle. It blended in with the harmony of the magic so perfectly it almost slipped her notice. Someone very canny and powerful had done this. Someone who had not wanted to leave a trace.

  “Did you find it?” Caulton asked her softly. “One part not quite right?”

  Cettie concentrated on the part that felt wrong, and then in her mind she commanded it to cease. The barrier drifted back down into place, fusing the hole shut. She felt a little dizzy, but it was a pleasant feeling.

  “Well done,” Caulton said. He glanced back down at the orb. “The hunt continues. Into the woods then, Captain? They are still several miles ahead of us.”

  The soldiers with arquebuses had assembled nearby.

  “Move out,” the captain ordered, and the soldiers began to stalk ahead into the forest, arms at the ready.

  Caulton glanced at Cettie. “Stay near me.”

  They went together past the warding and entered the woods on the east side of the grounds. The languid, warm air had not one bit of chill to it, yet Cettie felt a shiver tear through her. As soon as she left the borders of the abbey, she felt a blackness begin to weigh on her. She heard every night insect’s click, every crack and snapping of twigs and fallen detritus.

  She sensed it in the woods. The presence that had always haunted her.

  I knew you would come, child. I’ve been waiting for you.

  CHAPTER TWENTY−ONE

  LEGION

  The ghosts began to close in as the group continued to make its way into the woods. The buzzing that always preceded the ghosts filled the air, and Cettie glimpsed them in the shadows with her peripheral vision. Night was coming. Their power was growing.

  Should she say anything? Before she could decide, Caulton Forshee slowed and then stopped, gazing down at the orb.

  The captain on duty sniffed and looked around uneasily. “I’ve never cared for the woods a
round this abbey.”

  “Why did we stop?” Juliana asked, her hand resting on the stock of her pistol. She looked eager to continue the hunt.

  “It’s not the woods that brings you disquiet,” Caulton said. He turned and looked at Cettie with open curiosity. It wasn’t an accusation. “They’re drawn to you.”

  “What?” the captain demanded.

  “Can’t you feel them?”

  Cettie started to tremble, and her cheeks burned with shame. She should not have left the abbey grounds. Her instincts warned her to flee.

  “We are all mastons here,” Caulton told her gently. “You are not the only one who senses them, although you do not understand truly what they are.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Anna needs our help. She’s not that far. Will you come with us?”

  “They’ve always come for me,” Cettie said, folding her arms, trying to quell the shaking in her body.

  “I can see that, but they will not get past us. You are safe as long as you stay in the middle.”

  There it was again. Her source of protection lay in others. Although she was frightened, she nodded.

  “Thank you,” Caulton said.

  “What is your plan, Forshee?” Juliana asked pointedly.

  “Don’t you remember the maston test?” he replied, arching his eyebrows. “There’s a way to banish them.”

  He started walking again, increasing the lengths of his stride. The others followed, including the armed soldiers, who exchanged nervous looks as they moved forward. Cettie had no problem keeping pace, but her anxiety increased as she watched the sunlight fade faster and faster. The droning, buzzing noise followed them. Her enemies were near, prowling like wolves, but she steeled her heart and summoned her courage. She would face the ghosts for Anna, just like she had at Fog Willows.

  A raven croaked overhead, startling her. Suddenly, the Cruciger orb lit up in Forshee’s hand. It emanated a soft glow, just enough to spread a ring of radiance to guide their steps.

  “He’ll see us coming,” the captain warned.

  “He already knows we’re coming,” Caulton answered seriously. “He’s waiting.”

  “We’re walking into a trap, then?”

  “You could say that,” he replied.

  “You are not a military man, Forshee. We need a strategy and a plan. He’s got a weapon that belches fire and can kill a maston.”

  “I know,” Caulton answered. “He shot the Aldermaston. How have your strategies worked thus far, Captain? You have the men, you have the zephyrs. I was brought here because I have the ability to find him. Trust me a little further.”

  The captain looked angered by the rebuke. “With all due respect, Lord Forshee, I outrank you. What we are doing is folly. We need to flank him, to—”

  Caulton’s eyes blazed with sudden anger, but he held it in check. “Captain,” he said softly. “They can hear you. Have a little more confidence in me.”

  “At least tell me what your plan is,” the captain snarled.

  Caulton shook his head no. “If we do not act now, there is a strong likelihood she will be killed.”

  “Captain,” said Juliana curtly. She gave him a warning look and a shake of her head like he was being a daft fool.

  “Thank you,” Caulton told her. He kept going without a backward glance, and everyone else followed.

  The night air was getting colder, but their rapid pace kept Cettie from being too cold. She could still sense the ghosts, but most of them were trailing the group. Only the tall one lurked somewhere ahead. There was a sense of giddiness about it, as if the creature were savoring an upcoming victory.

  It attempted to torture her with its thoughts, but she focused her memory on some of the passages she had learned from tomes during her stay at Muirwood. The mind could only think of one thing at a time, and she had every right to control what those thoughts would be.

  They were far from the abbey now, deep in the heart of the woods. She knew the abbey was surrounded by water, that they would eventually reach the shore, and as she recited the quotes in her mind, she listened keenly for the sound of water lapping.

  Caulton looked down at the orb once more and stopped short. “He’s left her.”

  “What?” Juliana demanded.

  “It tells me she is one way, and he is another. He’s reacting to our movements.” He paused, gazing intently at the surface of the orb. Once again, Cettie could see a strange script scrawled across it. “Captain, send half of your men into the woods that way.” He straightened his arm and pointed to his left. “He’s circling around to come up behind us. Have them wait to ambush him. He may be invisible. Listen carefully. Use your instincts. The rest will rush ahead to rescue the girl while she’s alone. Summon the zephyrs to us. We’re ready for reinforcements.”

  “It’s about bloody time,” the captain snarled, raising his wrist to his mouth. Then he selected six of his men to make the attack. “Capture him if you can. Your orders are to kill him otherwise.”

  “Where’s Anna?” Juliana asked Lord Forshee.

  “This way,” Caulton said, and started to jog. The captain went with them, along with the rest of the soldiers.

  The light from the orb grew brighter as they ran. Cettie could feel the ghosts hissing, shrinking back from the brightness that tortured them. There was pain in their thoughts, and Cettie felt a gush of vengefulness in her heart. She stayed near Juliana and Caulton, surrounded by the soldiers and their weapons. There would be violence soon. She sensed it, felt the wind hold its breath in anticipation.

  “Over here!”

  It was Anna’s voice.

  Caulton led them straight toward the sound. The clack and clatter of branches obscured their way, but Cettie batted the limbs aside in her eagerness to get to her sister. Then she saw the golden hair, the filthy dress. Anna cowered at the base of a tree, shielding her eyes from the brightness of the light. Something felt wrong. A warning pulsed inside of Cettie’s heart.

  “Anna!” Juliana called in relief.

  They rushed up to her, the light from the orb blazing like the noonday sun. Cettie looked around for signs of Anna’s abductor. The soldiers had their arquebuses aimed into the woods as they encircled the girl.

  Caulton knelt beside her. She wasn’t bound or tied by anything. Cettie rushed forward to hug her, but Anna shocked her by lunging forward and grabbing Caulton by the throat.

  Her eyes were shining silver, and a snarl of hatred twisted her pretty mouth.

  At that moment, an explosion blasted in the woods, followed by a sharp cry of pain from one of the soldiers.

  Anna rose and threw Caulton into the tree with inhuman strength. As soon as he struck the wood, he dropped the Cruciger orb. Everything went dark except for Anna’s eyes.

  “You bring six against a legion!” said the tall ghost, speaking through Anna. Its voice echoed strangely, making Cettie’s skin crawl. Anna struck the captain as he whirled around to look at her, and Cettie heard his jawbone crack with the blow. The soldiers turned their weapons on her.

  “Don’t!” Juliana shrieked.

  Cettie had only been this afraid twice before. The first time was when she’d entered the grotto near the Dolcoath mines. Her presence had awoken a horrible beast that lurked there—and it had reached out to her, tried to control her. The second was when Mrs. Pullman had brought the tall ghost into Anna’s room at Fog Willows.

  She couldn’t move, couldn’t think—she was blind and mute once again.

  Anna let out a screeching sound and ripped an arquebus out of the hands of a terrified soldier before clubbing him with it.

  “Anna, stop!” Juliana screamed. Then she rushed at her, ducking beneath the arquebus and using the technique of butterfly hands to strike her in the middle. Juliana didn’t stop there. She’d been trained by Raj Sarin to attack with her hands and her feet. She struck Anna three or four times in a blur before getting struck by the butt of the weapon and knocked down. There was more commotion in the woods a
s the kishion attacked the soldiers who had been left behind.

  A wave of fear spread from Anna. The soldiers standing nearby looked terrified, even though they were the ones holding weapons. Should they shoot Minister Fitzroy’s daughter to save themselves? Could they bring themselves to harm an innocent being controlled by an evil entity?

  Light. Light held the ghosts at bay.

  Cettie searched the area, even though she still couldn’t turn her head, until she saw where the Cruciger orb had fallen—its music now silent.

  Instinctually she knew it would obey her. She needed to lunge for it, to pick it up. But fear had frozen her in place. Fitzroy wasn’t there to save her this time. She couldn’t move!

  Then a memory from long ago surfaced. Back at the grotto, it was Adam who had saved her from the beast’s call. She remembered the sound of his voice, his coaxing way. He had pulled her from her own grasping fear. In her mind, she saw his smiling face. It was a vision that stabbed into the darkest part of her soul. Just one of his smiles could do that to her.

  Adam had saved her then. It was Adam she wanted now, in this moment of fright and uncertainty. If only he were here and not with the other soldiers from the ministry.

  Cettie.

  She felt the distant pulse of his thought. They were far enough away from each other that it startled her, but something had connected them.

  Cettie, where are you? You’re in danger.

  She felt his worry, felt his concern. And then suddenly she could move.

  Anna flung the arquebus at another soldier, striking him in the head and knocking him down. The soldiers who were still standing eyed each other with uncertainty, and one of them took a step forward. There was no time to dally. Cettie lunged for the Cruciger orb. As soon as her fingers touched it, light exploded from it, blinding her with its radiance. Anna screamed in pain as if a thousand knives had cut her at once. The ghosts were still everywhere around them, but they scattered like black leaves in a storm. The woods were flooded with light again. A keening noise came in her ears.