“Mostly. It’s like there’s this small part of me that’s paying attention, just enough to keep me out of trouble. I used to lose myself completely. Mom said I would just go catatonic sometimes and it freaked her out. She’d shake me and I’d come back, but wouldn’t remember anything she’d been saying. So I learned to control it—to pay just enough attention that I could respond appropriately, but still feel far enough away that nothing could touch me.”
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you mind demonstrating for me?”
I looked around for a moment. My gaze fell upon the polished wood of the table. There was an interesting knothole at the edge…
“Ember?” Master Dogan spoke from far away.
“Yes?”
Speaking simple words and phrases wasn't difficult, it was simply a matter of allowing the part of my brain that was still in the room to handle such rudimentary tasks. Similar to not having to think about breathing, feigning attention required little effort.
“Can you tell me the sum of two plus two?” He asked, his voice traveling down the knothole to reach me.
“Four,” I replied.
He rose from his cushion and walked behind me. There was a crash, but the sound was muted. I didn't flinch.
“Are you all right Master Dogan or was that a test?”
Instead of responding, he passed his hand in front of my eyes. But not letting me see the knothole had the same impact as locking the door to a room that had already been entered—I was already inside.
He went back to his cushion and sat. “Would you please come back now?”
I blinked rapidly and forced myself to become completely aware of my body, my surroundings.
“I'm here,” I said.
“So you are,” he said, pleased. “That was quite impressive. To develop such an effective coping mechanism at such a young age—it probably saved your life. Certainly your sanity.”
I frowned. “If I'm so well-adjusted, why did I try to kill myself?”
“You tell me,” he said.
I had walked right into that one. “I guess this was where you prove you're a real head shrinker?”
“No, this is where you tell me why someone as bright and capable as yourself would rob the world of your potential.”
There was nothing accusing in his tone, and I realized I wanted him to understand. Daemon or not, I was beginning to believe that this man could help me.
“I just…wanted to be done,” I said. “I look at this world, and I think about me in it, and it just feels…wrong. I see other people and they seem to get it—whatever it is that makes things make sense in this life—and I just don't. And I don't want to, because then I think I really would be crazy. I know to the rest of the world I seem nuts, but to me, they seem nuts—walking around living their lives, totally unaware that there is just something wrong here…” I struggled, unsure how to encapsulate all that had led up to that night. “I was just done trying.”
“And the voice you hear, it encouraged you to take the pills?”
Taren had told him about the Voice. I supposed it was his duty, I just wasn't used to my secrets being laid bare.
“Yeah. I mean, I'd thought about suicide even before I started hearing It, but the actual planning didn't start until recently.”
“So you planned and yet you didn't succeed,” he said.
“Yeah, which I've been trying to figure out since it happened. I really did want to die. So why did I take the pills before my mom had done her nightly check-in?”
“Maybe you wanted to be found,” Master Dogan said.
I shook my head. “No, I'm telling you, I was done. I wanted out. I researched the meds online and went through the trouble of calculating what would be a lethal dose. Then the Voice—”
“The voice…what?” he asked.
“It urged me to start taking them—right then. It took up so much space in my head that I couldn't think of anything else. All logic was gone; I only felt pain and hopelessness. What had once been an option became the only solution, and I had to take action.”
Master Dogan just waited.
“But why? If the voice in my head is demonic, why would it have urged me to take those pills when I'd be almost certain to survive it? Doesn't that prove It isn't evil? That It wanted me to live?”
“What if it did want you to live and it is evil? What if you are right where it wants you to be?”
“But why?” I said again. “I'm safe here. I haven't heard It since I arrived.”
“Ember, if you are what Annys and I believe you to be, you are connected to the Gateway in a very powerful way. As with all power, that connection can be used for good or ill. If this voice of yours has designs to use you, what better place than here, at the Gateway itself?”
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. “What do you think It wants me to do?”
Master Dogan was silent for a moment, then said, “We have reason to believe the demons are gaining strength and planning an invasion. I suspect they wish to use you to that end.”
He didn't know I'd been told about the breach, yet even admitting this much seemed difficult for him.
“Why do I only hear one voice?” I asked. “Callie, the others—they hear several, right?”
“They do. I believe that it’s due to your lineage. Over time, the imprisoned Daemons have gone through a de-evolution of sorts. Though the world they started with was an exact mirror of our own—meant to be a solution, not a punishment—it is now a place of utter darkness. What was once an advanced society has become ruled by hatred and vengefulness. But what if not all of them have become such base creatures? With more and more troubled children to weed through, it has become difficult to find the Marked Ones in time. What if there are demons that have been biding their time, waiting for the proper time to strike?”
“And that time is now?” I asked, failing to keep the fear from my voice.
“Once you marked yourself with that symbol, you made it known who and what you are. You put yourself on the radar, so to speak.”
I wanted to claw the ink from my shoulder blade. “What if I had it removed—lasered off? Would that change anything?”
Master Dogan looked at me with sympathy. “I'm afraid not. Think of your thoughts like a radio signal. Now that it knows your mental frequency, it can tune in at will. With that access comes the knowledge that you were not born Marked, yet know the symbol in its entirety. That fact makes you very valuable.”
“Valuable, huh? So I'm not a lost cause?” I had long since given up hope that I was going to make something of myself in this life.
“Ember, when was it that things took a turn for you? I don't mean your outside circumstances—I've read your file and know the difficulties you've faced: absent father, a mother who suffers from mental illness. I'm talking about when you stopped being determined to overcome those obstacles.”
I struggled against the sadness threatening to envelop me. For so long I'd soldiered on, fueled by the surety that one day I'd show them—anyone who had ever doubted me—but that had ceased being enough.
“I guess when I realized it was no use. That the life I wanted to create couldn't exist. Not in this world.”
“And why is that?” he said.
“Because nothing good can survive here. Friends betray you, guys are creeps…”
Even as I said it, I was aware that I no longer fully believed it, not after all that had happened. Having met Callie, Master Dogan, Taren…
“And when was it, exactly, that you began to think that no one could be trusted?”
With that question, the pieces clicked into place. The Voice telling me when I was being gossiped about, when I would be betrayed; reveling in Its assurance that I didn't belong in this world and would finally be free if I just let go. It had told me, but I’d been eager to believe.
Then there was the failed suicide attempt that had landed me in Windsor. And the Voice urging me to trust Taren, which had ultim
ately led me to go with him to see Callie, which in turn had caused us to be together during the attack. Our escape was the sole reason Taren had found out about my tattoo, which had led me here, a mere hundred yards from the doorway to a demonic world.
I locked eyes with Master Dogan. He’d known all along, but had led me expertly down the path so I would see it for myself.
“So it’s been using me, and I fell for it,” I said, no longer willing to give this demon the respect I once had. “All this time I’ve been afraid I was crazy, but really I’m just colossally stupid.”
“You are not stupid, Ember—far from it. You've grown up with untenable instability and needed someone you could always rely on, so that is what it became for you. Which lends credence to my suspicion that we are dealing with a highly evolved entity—one not easily beaten. Luckily, we can keep you safe while you learn techniques to block it out.”
“That’s possible? I can be free again?” I needed to believe there was hope. I couldn't bear the thought of never leaving this small patch of earth for fear of being some demon's puppet—or worse—escape plan.
Master Dogan studied me. “Yes, I believe it's possible. What I need to know from you now is if you are still feeling suicidal.”
I shook my head. “No. When I woke up in the hospital, I was so disappointed to have failed, but now…at least it makes sense. My depression, the voice. It's terrifying, but it makes sense. And if you think I can be of use here…”
“I'm glad to hear that, and yes, you can be of great use. You will need to apply yourself to your studies even more so than your peers, and some of your training will need to take place in secret. I will be handling that personally. Unlike today, however, our sessions must not detract from your class time. We'll need to meet when you are done for the day. I've arranged my schedule to see you three times a week at four o'clock. Should anyone ask, you will need to say we are working on personal issues.”
Great, even in an institute full of people who had struggled with sanity, I was going to be a standout. I reconciled myself to the idea. Something was coming alive inside of me—the need to be a part of something. I had spent so long trying to separate myself from everyone and everything that the idea felt foreign, and yet it felt right.
Our session concluded with Master Dogan instructing me that instead of “falling in” during morning meditation, I should practice going in slowly, with awareness. Once I'd mastered that, I was to attempt it with my eyes closed, imagining a point of light in my mind's eye and entering that. I agreed, and Master Dogan told me he'd see me in two days.
Sarah was waiting for me when I exited Master Dogan's office. She popped up from where she sat doing what looked like schoolwork.
“I'll show you to your second class now,” she said. “It starts in five minutes.”
“That would be great, thanks,” I replied and followed her through the yurt and back outside.
The air was crisp and the sun bright. The warmth matched the feeling that was growing from within me and I wanted to prolong it. I took small strides, forcing Sarah to match my pace. I wasn't crazy. I was safe here. And with practice, the Demon would no longer be able to control me.
“You'll be in room two, next,” Sarah said when we had reached a small cluster of one-room buildings.
As if on cue, the doors to the four buildings opened and students began shuffling between them.
“Thanks for showing me around.” I gave her a smile before turning and joining the crowd.
I entered room two and took a seat. Callie filtered in shortly after and joined me.
“So what did Master Dogan want?” she asked.
“He just wanted to make sure I'm not still feeling depressed,” I said. “I'm totally not, but he wants follow-up sessions anyway. How was first period?”
“So cool. The teacher gave us a lecture about demons and how they started as good, but then there was a war. It's a whole thing.”
“Sounds like it,” I said, feigning ignorance.
I looked around at the other students and realized I was the oldest by a few years. I wondered what I would have made of all of this if I'd been brought here when I was twelve.
A stern-looking woman in her fifties entered the classroom and spoke. “All right, settle down.” Her gaze settled on Callie and me. “I see we have two new students. My name is Mistress Bowen, and this is where we discuss the different types of demons that inhabit the world beyond the Gateway. Who can tell Ember and Callie how we know what we do about the demon world?”
A hand shot up that belonged to a short boy with brown hair and freckles.
“Go ahead, Jason,” Mistress Bowen said.
“From Keepers who’ve been Retrieved,” Jason said. “Once they make it back, their observations are recorded. Over the centuries, certain species of demons have been seen over and over.”
I shot Callie a glance, which she returned with a slight nod. Apparently she'd been debriefed after her ordeal. I made a mental note to ask her what she'd witnessed, wondering why I hadn't thought to do so before. I'd only seen one demon and felt scarred by it; what had she endured?
The class continued, and Callie and I were assigned textbooks that contained drawings of various demons. I recognized the Dahrak demon and shuddered. Why wasn't Callie more afraid?
Because she thinks she's safe now. None of them know the Gateway is unlocked, that it's only a matter of time before the demons try again. Even if they've seen the horror of the other world, they think they're out of harm's way.
My good feeling dissipated.
My next two classes were Algebra and English. I shared those with Crystle, presumably since we would be in the same grade were we in a normal high school. Mundane subjects were a welcome break from Mistress Bowen’s lecture. By the time it had ended, I was feeling queasy from her detailed description of a race of slug demons that consisted mostly of pus.
After that was lunch, where I sat with the usual girls. I was surprised to realize I now had ‘usual girls.’
While we ate, I reiterated the explanation I'd given Callie about my meeting with Master Dogan, adding, “Yeah, and I guess I now know the answer as to how I survived this long. It's unorthodox, but I have some sort of self-taught meditation skill.”
I couldn't very well admit that I'd been kept alive in order to help the demons escape their prison. The girls seemed appeased by the answer and moved on to other topics. When lunchtime was over, a chime sounded and we went our separate ways, Callie and I heading to Tai Chi.
It was Master Dogan who taught the class. He did so with his usual mild manner, explaining that both Keepers and Guardians in training learned the martial art as a way of centering and grounding their energies. I paid close attention and found the practice soothing.
Next up was History—the normal, human kind. After that, I had a study period which I used to pore over the textbook I'd been given on demons. There was so much to learn, and I was determined to do as much as I could as quickly as possible.
My final class dealt with Gateway theory and linking.
By the time class let out at three forty-five, I was worn out and needed to do something that required zero brain power. I strolled aimlessly around the lower grounds, careful not to cross the markers that designated an end to the Sanctuary. I had always enjoyed nature, and I found myself drawn to the path I'd seen Taren take into the woods the night before.
The dense canopy of trees filtered out much of the waning light and I zipped my hoodie against the drop in temperature. I thought about turning back, but there was still enough light to see, so I continued on down the path.
I wondered how far Taren liked to walk into these woods, and how long it would be until I saw him again. I noticed some boulders several yards away and stepped off the path to take a seat on one. Within seconds, cold penetrated my jeans and I stifled a shiver. A moment later, a distinct smell of rot wafted my way. I scanned the ground for its source, and was about to get up when it occurred to
me that this might be a good opportunity to practice meditating. I placed my hands in my lap and looked down, noticing the pitted texture of the rock. I focused on one, and instead of falling in, I approached it gently with my mind.
I've missed you, Ember.
I froze, terror gripping me.
You must come to me more often.
My pulse pounding in my ears, I leapt from the boulder and sprinted toward the path. The putrid smell, the queasiness—I'd passed a boundary when I'd left the trail. Stupid, stupid! My feet hit the path, but I kept running until I reached the clearing that marked the end of the forest. I doubled over, gasping for breath.
The crunch of rapid footsteps propelled me forward. Something had followed me. Visions of demons and Reds flashed in my mind, and I was about to cry out a warning when I heard his voice.
“Ember! It's just me—stop!”
I spun around to see Taren. I sank to my knees, breathless.
“Are you OK? What happened? Was something chasing you?” He knelt beside me and scanned our surroundings.
“Just you,” I said between gasps. “I thought you were…” I couldn't get the rest of the sentence out.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I heard such a commotion—I thought there might have been another attack.” He placed a hand on my back.
When I could breathe again, I said, “I was just taking a walk and I…I heard it. The Demon.”
“You strayed off the path?” His tone wasn't accusing, just matter-of-fact.
“How would I know I’m not supposed to?” I said defensively. “If that's the boundary between sanity and Crazytown, maybe they should mark it better.”
Taren nodded in agreement. “I'll see what I can do. I don't think most first–years head out this way.”
“Apparently, I'm not most first-years.”
Taren grinned. “Yes, I think that's been well established.”
We sat there for a moment—me staring at the ground, Taren scanning the trees. His hand still rested on my back, sending ripples of warmth through me.
“What did the demon say to you?” Taren asked, his voice touched with worry.
The Gateway Trilogy: Complete Series: (Books 1-3) Page 11
