Sebastian e-1

by Anne Bishop

  A growl was the only response.

  It hadn’t been difficult to convince the demon to bring them to the school. All he’d said was that Lynnea might have to walk a long way.

  Maybe they should have walked. They’d had to cross through two other landscapes before they found a bridge that would cross over to the Landscapers’ piece of Ephemera. If they’d walked through those other landscapes, would they have found a place that would have called to both of them? A new place, a new start. With Lynnea.

  But the Den needed him, and every day he was gone could make the Den susceptible to another will. An evil will.

  They turned off the main road and went through the entrance to the school. The demon cycle slowed down as they passed empty pastureland.

  “Where are the animals?” Lynnea said, looking around.

  “Maybe they put them up for the night,” Sebastian replied. But something didn’t feel right. The silence was too heavy, too…expectant.

  They were halfway between the buildings and the school’s entrance when the demon cycle stopped abruptly and began gliding backward.

  Sebastian dropped his feet to the ground, dragging his heels. “No. Stop.”

  The demon growled and kept gliding back toward the main road.

  “Stop!” He tapped Lynnea’s hand to tell her to dismount once the demon came to a shuddering halt. “Daylight! What’s wrong with you?”

  “Sebastian?” Lynnea hugged herself. “Where are the people?”

  “Probably inside the buildings. It’s almost dark.” But something was making his skin crawl. Probably just the typical response when someone like him entered this place. After all, Landscapers didn’t think of demons as people. Aunt Nadia and Glorianna were the exceptions in thinking demons were entitled to their own little pieces of the world.

  “Here,” he said, “give me that.” He took the pack Lynnea had on her back. Glorianna had done a little more shopping on her way to the cottage. The trousers, shirt, and lightweight jacket Lynnea wore were good traveling clothes. Her other clothes were in his pack.

  Had she kept the catsuit?

  He slipped one strap over his shoulder, then took Lynnea’s hand and linked his fingers with hers. Giving the demon cycle a hard stare, he said, “Wait for me.”

  Did the school always feel like it was stretching and moving even when a person stood still?

  “I don’t like this place,” Lynnea whispered.

  Neither did he, and if he still felt uneasy after talking to the Landscapers, he’d make some excuse, get them both out of there, and take Lynnea to Aunt Nadia’s house.

  Which is what I should have done in the first place.

  “Come on,” he said, leading her toward the buildings. “Let’s find someone who can take us to whoever is in charge.”

  The closest building was two stories and square. Probably the classrooms. Not a promising place to find anyone at this time of day, but it was better than wandering around.

  He thought he saw movement above the first-floor windows, then decided it was nothing more than a bird or small critter moving in the branches of a tree that almost brushed against the building. But his nerves were humming, and the desire to get on the demon cycle and get away from this place was growing stronger.

  The building’s double doors were partially open, which didn’t seem right. Would they be that careless about closing up after lessons were over for the day? Maybe it meant someone was in the building—a student running in for a forgotten book and not checking that the door was closed because she’d be coming back out in a minute.

  A shiver went down his spine as he pushed one door all the way open.

  Lynnea grabbed her jacket and pulled the material over her nose and mouth as soon as they stepped into the building. “Oh. It smells bad in here.”

  It did smell bad. Which was why he had to look. If someone was alone and injured in here, he had to do what he could to help—or go and find help if there was nothing else he could do.

  He almost told Lynnea to stay by the door. After all, the first classroom wasn’t more than ten paces from the doorway. But even ten paces felt too far.

  Giving her hand a squeeze, he walked to the first classroom door, letting her trail a step behind him, their linked hands providing a tether. The door was ajar, but it resisted opening further when he gave it a light push, so he put his shoulder to the wood and shoved.

  And wished with everything in him that he’d left the door alone.

  “Sebastian?” Lynnea whispered from behind him.

  This time he gave her hand a hard squeeze, a command for silence. His heart pounded as he stared at what the room contained.

  They hadn’t had a chance. Something had attacked them so fast, most of the girls hadn’t had time to try to run.

  He shook his head, as if that would erase the carnage in the room. This couldn’t be real. These were the Landscapers, the women who were supposed to be able to protect the rest of Ephemera’s people until the Eater of the World was destroyed. For him to be looking at the aftermath of a slaughter inside their school…

  Then it hit him. The bodies weren’t fresh. Unless they were holed up in another part of the school and were still under attack, the other people who lived here should have removed the bodies by now instead of leaving them to decay.

  If there was anyone left.

  Cold conviction wrapped around him. This wasn’t an isolated attack. If he dared spend the time checking more rooms in this building or the other buildings, it would be the same. Death. Slaughter. Maybe most of the Landscapers escaped to their gardens and crossed over to other landscapes. Maybe the Bridges were able to get away before whatever swept over this part of the school reached them. Maybe.

  It didn’t matter if most of them had escaped or were still here among the dead. Right now, the absence of other people meant one thing: He and Lynnea might be the only people alive at the school.

  Which meant they were the only available prey.

  Spinning around, he pulled Lynnea to the outside door, desperate to get out of an enclosed space where they could be cut off from any chance of escape. Once they reached the demon cycle, they’d be able to outrun whatever was here before it sensed their presence. And once they got away from the school…

  They were out the door and running toward the demon cycle when they both jerked to a stop, frozen by the sight in front of them.

  The front end of the cycle was submerged in a pool of murky water. There was no sign of the demon, but something floated belly-up, just visible below the water. In the dusky light, the creature was too dark in color to make out its size or shape, but the paler belly was still visible and showed the lethal slashes of sharp claws.

  The demon cycle had fought, but it hadn’t won.

  “It’s like the horse,” Lynnea whispered. “When Ewan left me on the road, I ran after him. By the time I got to the bend in the road near the bridge, the horse was struggling in a pool of water and…something pulled it under.”

  The ground looked solid enough around the pool. They could skirt around the water and make a run to the main gate. Except…

  “That funny-colored sand,” Lynnea said, her voice barely audible. “I saw that sand on the road, too. It wasn’t there when I first ran to the bridge. It just appeared while I was trying to decide if I should cross the bridge or go back down the road to find help.”

  For a moment he was back in the alley in the Den, feeling sand beneath his feet.

  “The Eater of the World is free in the landscapes again…. The landscapes that were sealed up with It aren’t sealed anymore.”

  The Eater of the World was here, right now, changing the Landscapers’ School into pieces of Its own dark landscapes. But It hadn’t changed everything yet. As long as he and Lynnea stayed on ground that was still part of the school, they had a chance of getting away.

  Even as the thought formed, he watched the land beyond the sand and pool of water change into a bog that stretched b
ack to the stone walls that enclosed the school.

  A feeling too primitive for words made him look back at the building. Was that just a shadow on the wall? Or was it a predator that blended in so well it was almost invisible?

  Releasing Lynnea’s hand, he eased the pack’s other strap over his shoulder to settle it on his back. More sensible to drop it, but he didn’t want to leave anything behind that might be used to trace them.

  Guardians and Guides! How were they supposed to get out of here?

  Sebastian’s breath caught as the answer came to him: Glorianna’s garden.

  They’d have to go deeper into the school, run straight into the enemy’s lair.

  Rustling sounds of things moving closer, hidden by the fading light.

  Only one chance.

  He reached for Lynnea’s hand. Both of them would get out of here or neither of them. He wasn’t going to let her fall behind and die like the people he’d seen in that classroom.

  He led her back toward the building. “We’ve got to reach my cousin’s garden,” he said quietly. “When I tell you to go, you run like a rabbit. Understand me?”

  Staring straight ahead, she nodded. “Something’s coming.”

  “I know.” He gave himself a moment to picture the map Glorianna had drawn, not daring to take the time to pull the linen napkin out of his jacket pocket. The sundial was the first marker.

  Glorianna. He focused his will, focused on the need to find her garden…and hoped that something—Guardian, Guide, or Ephemera itself—would respond to his heartfelt call for help in finding the piece of ground that resonated with her. Glorianna. Glorianna. “Ready?”

  Lynnea tightened her fingers around his in answer.

  “Run!”

  Things out of nightmares ran after them. Ants as long as his forearm. Spiders as big as dogs. And things he had no name for.

  The flagstone path beneath their feet felt spongy, fluid, as if the stones were about to change into something else between one step and the next.

  We’re in the school. We’re in the school. We’re in the school. Underneath that chant he hoped would keep them from stumbling into one of the Eater’s landscapes was another chant that came from his heart: Glorianna, Glorianna, Glorianna.

  The sundial should be there, right in front of them. But there was nothing but a circle of bubbling mud.

  No markers anymore. Nothing to guide them.

  “Where…?” Lynnea gasped.

  They had to keep moving or die.

  Glorianna, Glorianna, Glorianna. “This way.”

  He ran, pulling Lynnea with him, letting instinct—or something more—guide him. A maze of gardens, all the same. Walls and walls and walls. The light almost gone. They’d never find their way through this maze once the light was completely gone.

  But he turned from one path and followed another and another as if a string had been attached to his chest and were reeling him in.

  Glorianna, Glorianna.

  Then he saw it. No different on the outside from any of the others, but he knew it was hers.

  “Here,” he panted, rattling the wrought-iron gate as if that would be enough to break the lock. Even if he did break it, there was a wooden door behind the gate that was probably locked from the inside, since he couldn’t see any way to open it from this side.

  He didn’t have time to figure out if wizard magic could open doors. Somewhere in the twists and turns of the paths, they’d lost the predators, but the creatures wouldn’t stay lost for long. Not with fresh prey available.

  “Climb.” He clamped his hands on her waist and gave her a boost up to get her feet on a crossbar. “Pull yourself over.” Sounds coming from the intersection of two paths. “Now!”

  He took a step back to avoid getting kicked in the face as Lynnea swung her legs over the top of the gate and the wooden door. His foot came down on a stone, making him stumble. He grabbed the gate to keep his balance—which brought his face level with the brass plaque attached to the stone wall next to the locked gate.

  Etched into the plaque was a date and the wizard’s symbol, indicating that this was a forbidden place.

  He forgot about the danger coming toward him. Everything faded to insignificance as he stared at the date on that plaque.

  Then Lynnea screamed, “Sebastian!”

  Jolted back to the immediate danger, he snatched up the stone he’d stumbled on.

  Giant ants and spiders raced toward him, and in front of them was something that looked like an elongated spider with two black eyes and jaws powerful enough to crush his legs.

  A deadly part of the magic wizards wielded was something they called “the lightning of justice.” Bolts of magic that could kill a man. It was used when a person was deemed so dangerous he or she had to be destroyed instead of being sent to a dark landscape as punishment.

  Unfortunately, he had no idea how to call that kind of magic or control it. But raw power swelled inside him now, so he channeled it—and his anger—as best he could into the stone in his hand.

  The spidery thing rushed toward him with terrifying speed. The others weren’t far behind.

  With a yell that was part fury, part desperation, he threw the stone at the spidery thing. It struck between the creature’s eyes, then—

  Sebastian threw his arms up to protect his eyes as bolts of light exploded out of the stone, searing the spidery thing and the other creatures near it.

  He blinked, shook his head, then scrambled over the gate. Coming down on the other side, he leaned back against the solid stone wall.

  “Sebastian?” Lynnea rushed toward him.

  “Don’t!” His hand still tingled from the released magic. Since he was pretty sure the wizards’ lightning didn’t usually splinter like that, he didn’t want her to touch him until he felt more confident that he wouldn’t sizzle her, too.

  “There’s no door on this side of the wall,” Lynnea said, looking at the solid stone. “Why isn’t there a door?”

  Because they tried to seal her in. Because…Damn you, Lee! You never told me why. All these years, and you never told me why.

  He pushed away from the wall and looked around. An overgrown, abandoned garden—with a way to escape hidden in the fountain at its center.

  “This way. Hurry.” Still not daring to touch her, he followed a path to the center of the garden, Lynnea right behind him.

  When he reached the fountain, he circled it, looking for whatever was hidden here that would get them out of this place. Moss on the stones that shaped the fountain’s pool, green scum covering most of the water.

  Nothing! But something here tugged at him.

  Crouching, he thrust a hand into the water. His fingers brushed over stones—and his heart jumped as he heard the sounds of creatures fighting over the remains of those he had killed. But charred corpses wouldn’t interest them long if they sensed living prey nearby.

  His hand moved through the water. Then he felt a tingle, a tug, a sense of warmth right…there.

  His hand hovered over the stone—and he remembered something Lee had told him during a visit to the Den.

  “People expect bridges to be large enough to physically walk over,” Lee said. “But a one-shot bridge can be small enough to fit in your hand.”

  Sebastian stopped picking at the remains of his dinner and frowned at his cousin. “One-shot?”

  “A small object, filled with just enough of a Bridge’s power for one crossing to a specific landscape.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it would be much use.”

  Lee hesitated, then said quietly, “Sometimes it gives a person the only chance to escape where they are.”

  Too bad Lee hadn’t told him how these one-shot bridges worked. Was there something he needed to do? Or would he be pulled into another landscape the moment his hand closed over the stone?

  “Sebastian,” Lynnea whispered.

  He looked up. Saw a spider coming over the wall.

  “Take my hand,” he sa
id. He didn’t dare look around to see what else might be coming over the walls.

  Holding on to Lynnea with one hand, he closed his other hand over the stone. He stood up and turned away from the fountain at the same time the spider reached the ground inside the garden.

  He took a step, pulling Lynnea with him.

  The spider ran toward them.

  He didn’t know where this bridge would take them, but he trusted Lee, who was the only Bridge who would have put an escape route in this garden. And he trusted Glorianna Belladonna.

  As Glorianna’s name echoed in his mind, he and Lynnea took another step—and disappeared a moment before the spider reached them.

  We look human, but we are not. Ephemera shaped us, manifested us, brought us into the world in answer to the cries of human hearts for guidance.

  Some of us have gathered in the places where the currents of Light are the strongest. These Guardians will keep their distance from the chattering of the human heart, will live simple, peaceful lives that will feed the Light and keep those currents flowing in the world. And those currents, in turn, will nourish hope, courage, love.

  The rest of us are Guides. We walk among people and feel as they do—glittering moments of joy, warm moments of contentment, moments full of the jagged shards of envy, anger, disappointment. We drink from the wells of sorrow and feast at the banquet of love.

  But we understand what Ephemera cannot: That the human heart is as fluid as itself, that a heart is touched by the winds of emotions, bending with them for a moment, sometimes breaking beneath the violence of a storm. But those feelings are the wind, not the bedrock of a heart.

  And yet, even bedrock is malleable. A seed can find its way into a crevice, root itself in the dark while it grows toward the light. Given time and the things it needs to grow, the plant’s roots can widen that crevice, become strong enough to break stone. And things change.

  So it is the bedrock of the heart that resonates for us, not the winds of changing feelings. It is the true desires, the deepest yearnings, the heart’s need to make its journey through life that calls to us.

  Be careful what you wish for, because Ephemera will manifest that wish—but not necessarily in the way you intended…or even wanted. People hear the words, but they’re full of wind wishes—things they want now, are desperate to have now, only to forget about those same things tomorrow because those things did not truly feed the heart.