“And just how do you plan on proving that?” she asked, unfazed.
“I don't. Look, I didn't come here to be called a liar,” I said, unable to soften the edge in my tone. “Taren said the two of you would give me some answers. If that symbol is supposed to be some big secret, why don't you tell me how it's possible that I would start drawing it? Or why the nuthouse was attacked by demons? Or how it is that demons actually even exist?”
Annys suffered my brief tirade. When I had finished, she leaned forward on the desk.
“Young woman, you do not know what is at stake here—”
“Annys, if I may.” Master Dogan's voice was soothing. Annys's jaw tightened at being interrupted, but she allowed him to continue. “Ember makes a good point. She's been through quite an ordeal in the past twenty-four hours and we are asking her to take a lot on faith. Perhaps if we are a little more forthcoming, she might be inspired to be, as well.”
“And what information do you suggest we share, Dogan? Which of our secrets do you feel safe in divulging?” She gave him a warning look.
Master Dogan turned his serene gaze to me. “What has Taren told you about the symbol?”
“That it's broken into nine segments,” I said. “And that those segments are borne on certain people who then either go crazy or help keep the Gateway closed somehow.”
“All true. Would you like to know how the Gateway came to be?”
I nodded. My anger at being doubted by Annys melted at the kindness in Master Dogan's eyes and the soothing tone in his voice.
“Many millennia ago, there existed not only humans, but Daemons,” he said, emphasizing the pronunciation of “DAY-muns.” “While physically indistinguishable from their human counterparts, Daemons possessed abilities far beyond those of man—abilities such as telepathy and telekinesis.”
“Telekinesis?” I said, making no effort to hide my disbelief. “You want me to believe that these ‘Daemons’ could move things with their minds?”
Master Dogan’s placid expression remained unchanged as he said, “I assure you that I speak the truth, but only you can decide whether to believe.”
It was such a straightforward statement that I found myself closing my mouth and opening my mind—if only a crack.
“Sadly, the origins of the Daemons has been lost to time,” Master Dogan continued. “Were they simply a much older species than man and therefore more evolved, or were they terrestrial in nature? Or even angels of some sort, sent to guide man? Whatever their genesis, man and Daemon lived in harmony for centuries. In fact, some posit that it was the Daemons who were responsible for the dramatic leaps forward in man's development—as with the Etruscans, or the ancient Mayans.
“As humans advanced, they began to intermarry with the Daemons, creating hybrid offspring. Some Daemons looked down upon this joining of races, considering themselves above humans. They saw mankind as a sort of pet, a dog to be put to work and occasionally rewarded, but not with whom to mate.
“This difference in attitude caused a huge rift within the Daemon society, and eventually resulted in a war. Much like America’s Civil War, family members were pitted against each other, and countless lives were lost. Because Daemon warfare consisted of more than just physical weaponry, psychic attacks were common, causing victims to become insane, comatose, or worse—lead them to kill their own people. There came a time when both races were threatened with extinction.
“The Daemons aligned with the humans knew that something drastic needed to be done, or both societies would be lost forever. They devised a scheme to send the enemy Daemons to a separate yet identical reality. It was a planned attack across continents and required the participation of every available Daemon, even their hybrid offspring. For three days, a battle raged. To the humans it looked as though the Daemons were simply sitting— sometimes moaning or blacking out—but for the Daemons on both sides, it was agonizing. On the third day, the enemy Daemons simply vanished, and in the nine places where the others had gathered were Gateways—access points to the identical world they had sent the Daemons to.
“For a time, it seemed as though the plan had worked—life was harmonious on this side of the Gateway, and it was assumed that our sister world thrived as well. But then came the mental attacks. You see, instead of flourishing, the Daemons on the other side had grown more and more resentful at having been cast out. Resentment turned into rage, and rage to hatred. That hatred twisted the Daemons, both figuratively and literally. They became a terrifying shadow of their former greatness—so much so that it affected every living creature in their world, turning them into what we now call demons. These demons wanted only one thing—to come home.
“From then on, this side of the Gateway needed to be guarded at all times. The remaining Daemons became the first Keepers of the Gate. But the demons were relentless, and it only took one generation to wipe out all of the remaining Daemons—including their hybrid offspring. Thankfully, they’d created a fail-safe—they used their power to imbue the Gateways themselves with life, including a self-preservation instinct. Which is how Marked Ones came into existence—humans that were born linked with the Gate. These first human Keepers were trained by the last remaining Daemons. Once they were gone, the Institute was created to continue guarding the Gateway and protect mankind from being overrun by demon hordes.”
When Master Dogan finished his story, the room was still. I sat in stunned silence while he and Annys studied my reaction. I was torn between belief and incredulity. I knew it was crazy, and yet…
Why couldn't it be true? I probed further.
“But I wasn't born with a Mark,” I said. “Even if I believe you, which I'm not sure I do, what do I have to do with any of this? And why…” I paused and took a deep breath. “Why did I start drawing that symbol?”
The two exchanged a long look and then Annys faced me, her eyes boring into mine.
“Because,” she said, “we believe you are part Daemon.”
9
My eyes bulged. It seemed an appropriate response. It took a moment before I was able to speak.
“You think I'm not human? That I'm a demon, or Daemon, or whatever? That's insane.”
“There was a time when I would have agreed,” Annys said, “but there are too many signs pointing in that direction not to explore the idea. You claim to have channeled the Gateway symbol of your own accord, you've been involved in altercations with both a demon and a Red, Callie was compelled to attack you, and you hear a voice. And I would wager the arrival of that voice coincides almost exactly with you getting that tattoo.”
I stiffened. Was it true? A demonic presence had access to my thoughts? The possibility terrified me even more than the idea that I might be crazy. Annys could tell by my reaction that she was right. The two events had been almost simultaneous.
“Now the question is, how do we proceed?” I waited for her answer, as I had none. “What I propose is that you remain here at the Institute. You will be enrolled in classes and treated like any other new student. We can smooth things over with your mother. Given where we generally find our students, the Institute is recognized by the state as alternative schooling for troubled youths, and we have a generous scholarship program. Here you will be safe and receive an excellent education while we determine whether or not you are equipped to aid in our fight to keep the Gateway closed.”
My thoughts raced. I didn't see that I had a choice. I still wasn't buying the idea that I wasn't human, but there was no denying I was in danger. But would I really be safer here?
“What about the other students?” I asked. “Like you said, Callie tried to kill me. What if the voices tell her—or even a group of others—to finish the job?”
The look Annys gave me was meant to be reassuring, but seemed incongruous on her harsh features.
“Most of your studies will take place within the Sanctuary, where demons cannot infiltrate. You will be perfectly safe.”
“And my mother?” I said.
“If she knows where I am, won't she be in danger, too?”
“That has already been taken care of. Taren dispatched a security detail to her last night.”
I nodded, grateful for his foresight but annoyed he hadn't told me. How much of this had he known all along?
“Aside from the rules that all new students must follow, you will need to be absolutely vigilant about two additional ones. You must reveal to no one that you know the entire symbol until such time as you are taught it, and you must never, under any circumstances, show anyone your tattoo. Dogan, Taren, and myself will be the only ones who know of your possible lineage. Even the slightest violation of either of these rules will mean your immediate expulsion. Should others ask, you will tell them your birthmark looks like this.” She sketched briefly and passed the paper across the desk. It was the center design of my tattoo. “It is not unusual for Keepers to have their marking on, say, an inner thigh, and not show it to others.”
Again I nodded, my thoughts moving faster than my mouth.
“Good, it's settled, then. Mae will show you to a room. Send Taren in on your way out.”
I almost protested the dismissal—I still had so many questions—but I wasn't sure how much more I could process. I left without a word.
Taren sat in the common room chatting with Mae. His face took on a relieved expression at the sight of me.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, trying not to appear as shellshocked as I was. “They want to see you now, Taren. And Mae, I guess I'll be needing a room.”
Mae balked. “A room or a bed? New students—”
“She'll be needing her own room,” Taren said hastily. “She's as old as most third years.”
Mae looked perplexed, but said, “All right, then. I've got something on the third floor.”
“I'll find you when I'm done,” Taren said before slipping into the office.
I followed Mae down the hall. We passed a doorway and I peered in to see a small room with two neatly-made bunk beds and a desk. So it was usually four to a room for new students? I was grateful I was being afforded my own. Each doorway held a similar sight: the color of bedding, the style of the desk—all the same except for some personal touches: a poster on the wall, an extra blanket.
Mae led me up the stairs, past the second floor, and up to the third. Partway down the hall she opened a polished wooden door to reveal a small but nicely furnished bedroom. It held a twin-sized bed, a nightstand, a desk, and a tall wardrobe. As tiny as it was, it didn’t feel cramped because of the window that overlooked the grounds. I took in the bright green grass and majestic trees that lined the landscape. The main house—the one I’d thought I’d be going to when I’d first arrived—stood farthest up the hill, its marble gleaming in the sun. Is that where the Gateway…? I swallowed hard.
“The bathroom is just down the hall on the right,” Mae said.
I pulled my eyes away from the view, a different panic now rising in my throat. I had to share a bathroom with strangers? A whole floor of them? Then an even more frightening thought occurred to me.
“The bathroom—is it…unisex?” Didn’t they sometimes do that at colleges?
Mae laughed. “Oh, no, hon. Don't worry. There are no boys on this floor. They have the second floor, and there is no visiting between the two. The first floor is co-ed, but the living room and kitchen divide the facilities.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d never shared a bathroom with a boy, and I wasn’t ready to start. Not by a long shot.
As the tour continued, Mae gave me what I assumed was helpful information about life at the Institute, but I wasn't listening. Instead I was wondering, What's a Red? Annys had used the term in reference to the attacks aimed at me. I had to assume it was the man with the red eyes. Was he a demon? And did that mean he had special Daemon powers? He’d been scary strong, but he hadn’t “psychically attacked” me or anything. And how were they going to determine if I was part Daemon? Was I signing up for weird biological tests?
We passed a window and movement caught my eye. It was Taren, his expression grim as he stormed off in the direction of the woods that bordered the property. I felt a mix of concern and disappointment. He'd promised to find me. I wondered what had upset him so much.
“Ember?” Mae was looking at me expectantly.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said that I need to get downstairs to supervise dinner prep. Do you have any more questions before I go?”
“No thanks. I'm good.” It wasn't the truth, but it was the only polite thing to say.
When Mae left, I made my way back downstairs, planning to raid the book collection. I noticed Mae's office door was open, no trace of Annys or Master Dogan. I felt very alone. How long would it be before I could talk to my mother again? As difficult as she could be, at that moment I longed to hear her voice.
I heard laughter and turned to see Kat entering through a side door, followed by Callie.
“Everything all squared away?” Kat asked me.
“I think so. I've got a room, at least. And I'll be starting classes.”
“Me, too,” Callie said. “Isn't it cool to be with people just like us? I don't feel like such a weirdo anymore.”
If anything, I felt like even more of a weirdo, but I returned her smile.
“Where's Taren?” Kat said, looking around.
“Gone,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. “He said he was going to come get me when he was done talking with Annys and Master Dogan, but I just saw him taking off into the woods.”
Kat's eyes tightened at the corners. “He's been doing that lately when he needs to think.”
Think about what? I wondered.
I didn't press the issue. “Where is everyone else? You don't have classes on Sunday, do you?”
“No classes, but there is a tournament today. I was about to take Callie over. Want to come?”
Part of me wanted to be alone with my thoughts, but another part warned me against it.
“Sure,” I said.
Kat led us down a path that ended at a small field ringed with bleachers, the benches filled with teenagers. We climbed four rows to the top and took our seats. On the field, two young men were sparring with swords.
Callie watched with rapt attention, but I was dubious. “A thousand years of demon fighting and you people are still using swords?”
Kat shook her head. “Not usually—too conspicuous for an every-day weapon. But every Guardian learns swordplay. It teaches proper balance, timing, hand-eye coordination. It's the foundation for all of our other training.”
“Do you hold tournaments like this often?” I said.
“Once a month. The competition inspires diligence with training. It's not just sword fighting, though. Anyone can enter with their weapon of choice. The mixed battles are the most fun to watch—like a short sword against a halberd.”
A halberd? Had I enrolled in the Renaissance Faire? I feigned interest, but began sizing up the other onlookers. Most were within a few years of me in either direction. For all intents and purposes, they looked like normal teenagers, albeit with a few more piercings. Had all of them been in mental institutions when their mark had been discovered? Would any of them try to hurt me if they knew my secret? I had a feeling the knives weren't plastic at the Institute.
The crowd erupted in applause. I looked up to see one of the boys, a tall blond, standing over the other, his blade at the prone boy's throat. The blond withdrew his blade and helped his rival to his feet. The victor waved to the crowd and both exited the field. Two new competitors entered the field; this time it was girl against boy. The boy carried a dagger; the girl held no weapon at all.
Callie made the same observation out loud, to which Kat replied, “She is the weapon.”
It didn't take long to see that she was right. For every thrust the boy made, the girl danced aside and landed a blow of her own.
“Not that she seems to be in much danger,�
� I said, “but what happens if he strikes her? Wouldn't she get hurt?”
“Just bruised. With a few exceptions, we train and compete with practice blades.”
Though intrigued by the current match, I found myself looking off into the woods, in the direction Taren had gone. When would I see him again? He didn't live on the property, and it didn't seem like I would be allowed to leave any time soon. Was he done with me now that he'd turned me over to the Institute? His job was over. He would probably be off again soon, sent to find other Marked ones. I felt a sense of loss at that, and told myself it was because he was the only one I could really talk to, and not at all because my heart beat faster when he was around.
A flurry of movement brought my attention back to the field. The girl was in mid-leap. She extended her leg into an impressive kick, which landed squarely in the center of her opponent's chest. I winced as he stumbled backward, landing hard on his backside.
Kat grinned. “That's gotta hurt.”
The boy scrambled to his feet, but not before the girl knocked the dagger from his hand.
“His blade might be practice, but those kicks aren't,” I said. It was hard not to be impressed.
At that point, the battle was pretty much over. A few more punches, and the boy surrendered. He smiled good-naturedly as he shook her hand, but gingerly rubbed his jaw as they walked off the field.
A horn sounded and everyone stood to leave.
“That's it?” I asked. “Do they win anything?”
Kat shrugged. “Bragging rights. They only award prizes once a year. That tournament is much more formal.”
We made our way through the crowd to the bottom of the bleachers.
“I've got a shift at the Gateway in fifteen minutes,” Kat said. “Will you two be all right finding your way back to the dorm?
“Yeah, sure, we're fine,” Callie answered.
Who was this confident girl? It was as if she'd evolved into a different person over the past two hours. I was glad for her, but confused as to why I wasn't being affected in the same way.
The Gateway Trilogy: Complete Series: (Books 1-3) Page 8
