The Gateway Through Which They Came

by Heather Marie

  “You can’t be—It’s not possible.”

  It’s such a stupid thing to say, since, clearly, it is possible. But how?

  Koren attempts to touch me, but I flinch. I don’t mean to. It’s just… too unreal.

  She pulls back, her eyes peering downward with hurt.

  “There’s a Gateway in this town that will lead the others here. The Order of Shadows,” she says. “All they needed was a sacrifice to call the Dark Priest back. He’s the only one powerful enough to resurrect the Order. It’s what the man who brainwashed my parents had planned all along. To sacrifice me to get close to you. You’re a Mortal Gateway, Aiden. The last thing the Brethren needs to bring them back.”

  At the mention of the Dark Priest, I picture Redhead’s vision. The man in the cloak rising from the ground.

  “It’s time, Aiden.”

  This is what he meant. Time for me to bring back the Order.

  Redhead knew. She knew what she was setting me up for. Their resurrection.

  My gaze meets Koren’s in the nearing dark. The stone walls accentuate the cold.

  I’m overwhelmed by everything she’s telling me, and how everything that’s happened in the past week has finally clicked in place. And if the Gateways I’ve been sensing are centuries-old like Father Martin said, making them immortal—inhuman, even—then the Mortal Gateway must be one of each. A mortal and immortal. A human and a Gateway.

  Someone like me.

  I somehow manage to stash the mention of the Order in my mind to report back to Father Martin later.

  “Gateways don’t bring back the dead,” I tell her. At least this is one thing I know for sure. I think.

  She keeps her distance when she says, “The Dark Priest is why I’m here. He wanted me to manipulate you. To take you to him, but I can’t do it, Aiden. I can’t sacrifice you like my parents did to me.” Her voice continues to shake as she speaks. “I won’t do this to you. I just won’t.”

  I can’t take it anymore. Closing the gap between us, I slip my fingers through her hair and use my thumbs to wipe the remnants of tears from her cheeks.

  “What does he want me to do? Tell me how I can fix this.”

  “You can’t,” she whispers, her eyes filled with shame. “If you bring back the Order, they’ll destroy everything. He killed my parents. Killed them. I can’t imagine what else he’s capable of with all that power.”

  Her face constricts with pain as if the very memory of her parents tears her apart.

  I rest my forehead against hers. Her lips a breath away from mine.

  “He told me he’d bring them back if I brought him you. But all I can think to do is save you from yourself. I can’t bear the thought of bringing my parents back into this. I’ve been staying here because it’s the one place he can’t go.”

  “Why can’t he?”

  She lifts her head from mine and points to the markings along the coffin. “Because when he was buried, they bound him to this tomb. Once he comes in here, he won’t be able to leave. My sacrifice was able to resurrect him, but that only means he’s vulnerable.”

  I drop my hands from her face, running them down her arms. I look to the slab of stone and ask, “Who put him here?”

  “People like you,” she answers.

  My mind replays everything that has occurred from her arrival until now. From the shadow on the track, the abundance of Bleeders, and the monstrous infection consuming me. I’m beginning to understand what kept Koren from the school chapel.

  I glance back to her. “He’s controlling you, isn’t he?” I don’t know how else to explain what’s happening to her. How she’s even here with me now.

  “No,” she says. “His energy feeds into me, gives me life. That’s only a sliver of what he can do. But the longer I’m away from him, the longer you’re just outside his reach, he drains me.”

  “Torturing you,” I choke out.

  “Yes.”

  It’s why Koren’s appearance has changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. She’s a trapped soul inside a body that should no longer exist.

  “You’re not supposed to be here, Koren.” An ache in my chest burns through me when I speak the words, like a dull knife dissecting my heart. “You should go. I can help you.” I weave my fingers through hers.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she says. “It’s already started.” She lifts a hand and taps her index finger against her ear. “I can hear them.”

  This hits me harder than anything else. I’ve only confronted Dark Ones after they’ve already turned, going Dark Side before I had the chance to save them. That’s if they wanted saving. But seeing Koren now, slowly turning, I know it’s only a matter of time until she gives in. The sight of her guts me, knowing that she’s suffering. Never did I expect to be standing here with her, contemplating whether or not to let her go. My best friend. My heart.

  As if reading my thoughts, she says, “Not yet.”

  I hate the part of me that sags with relief at these words.

  Koren’s fading blue eyes stare into mine, and in that moment, I forget everything. I have her in my arms and hers lock around my waist. Her body quivers against me as if the fear she’d been fighting all this time has finally burst its way out. All I can do is hold her as tight as I possibly can, and hope that it’s enough.

  An ache in my chest swells with it all. If I’d only said it sooner. If I’d only told her how much I loved her when it really mattered. If only the one thing separating our lives now wasn’t her unbeating heart against mine.

  hen she begins to calm, I ask, “Where’s the Dark Priest now?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “He could be anywhere, anyone. With him, you never know what shape he’ll take. But I do know that whatever exists underneath that church, it isn’t good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She lifts her head from my shoulder to explain, the skin around her eyes puffy and red from her tears. “There’s at least one church in every city built over Brethren ritual grounds. It’s the only way to keep the evil within from infecting the outside world. The church is like a barrier it can’t break. Sealing the tunnels was insisted upon by every faction.”

  “Everywhere?” I ask.

  “Everywhere,” she says back. “It’s not just one religion threatened by the Brethren. It’s everyone. Man, woman, child. It doesn’t matter. If the Dark Priest has his way, there would be one religion. His.”

  “Yeah, that’s what we need.”

  She ignores me, and adds, “The church itself protects the ground, but there’s nothing that protects the church. Do you know what I mean?”

  “So anyone can infiltrate the church? Even him?”

  “Without a doubt,” she says.

  It’s not what I want to hear.

  Night has finally settled in and I’m forced to part ways with her before my mom loses it again.

  When I leave Koren, I promise to find a way to bring her parents back. It’s the only thing I can do considering what she’s giving up for me. I don’t know how, or if they’ll ever be the same, but I can at least try. There’s a newfound hope building inside of me. If I can get Koren’s parents back, maybe I can bring her back to life, too.

  Until then, I have to keep the Dark Priest from resurrecting the Order, and keep her safe in case he goes searching. Leaving her there doesn’t feel right, but nothing is right about a girl who should be dead. I can’t get my mind past the whole thing. A Bleeder that can be seen, and some powerful being resurrecting an Order of Shadows. My life has turned into some sort of a movie. The scariest part is that there’s no predictable ending.

  If that shadow I’ve been seeing is part of the Order, someone must have brought it into this world. And from what Koren tells me, it’s another Mortal Gateway. It has to be, because I know for damn sure it wasn’t me.

  I have to contact Trevor when I get home. I need to know anything he can tell me about that day in the theater. Anything he could ha
ve missed, like where the laughter came from. Something was there with us. Something that knows where to find the Dark Priest.

  “Father Martin kept you late,” Mom says when I walk through the door.

  The book under the flap of my jacket sags an inch. My arms clench, catching it before it slides out onto the floor. What a fiasco that would be. All my mom needs to see me with is a book from the eighteenth century that resembles some sort of how-to guide for witchcraft. She’d never believe Father Martin gave it to me, not that I would tell her. It certainly wouldn’t help the strain in our relationship that I’ve caused by keeping this from her.

  “What are you doing?” She eyes my side where the book is hidden.

  I scramble for an explanation. “Oh. I… hurt my side washing the floors. It really took it out of me.”

  She frowns. “He’s working you hard, huh?”

  Before I can answer, she reaches for the remote and turns on the TV. I take this chance to spring to my room and gently close the door behind me. It’s only a matter of time before she calls me out for dinner.

  I dig into my jacket for the book and place myself on the bed. Just looking at it gives me the creeps. My room feels uncomfortable with this book in my hands, like the thing emanates a strange energy, calling for someone to release the wisdom it holds. Tree branches scrape across the side of the house with a heavy wind that picks up, causing the glass to vibrate with the pressure. If I let my mind wander, I’d think even the elements seem to respond to this thing.

  As if all this isn’t a big enough warning not to open it, I think back to Father Raimi as he held it, and how nothing came of it. I’m over-thinking the situation. I remind myself that it’s only a book, nothing more.

  With a deep breath, I thumb to a random page and flip the book open. The pounding of the tree outside gets more vicious as the wind howls past my window. My lamp flickers spasmodically, blinking me in and out of darkness. I can’t tell if this affects the lights throughout the house, but I don’t have time to check.

  My hands seize against the pages, the book coming to life by my touch. An icy chill fills me from my fingertips to my limbs, expanding through every layer of my skin. The book practically feeds off me, draining me, absorbing every ounce of my energy. In return, it feeds me with its power. My contact is a conduit for whatever life force it contains. I feel drugged by its strength. The sensation is too much like the rage that surfaces every time that thing takes over. I despise it and long for it all at once, but the wrongness of this brings back the familiar warmth of what I am. The Light.

  I tell myself to get rid of it, to let go, but not before the curled letters in front of me stare boldly from its pages.

  In perfect penmanship, the passage reads:

  Through the Gateway we shall overcome and seek out those who dare to deny thy greatness. He shall rise and call upon our brothers, The Order of Shadows. It is then that we will take back what is rightfully ours, the sacred ground where our Dark Priest will lead us to power once again.

  As I read these words, malevolent voices whisper in my ears, hissing and growling like tortured souls fighting their way out. Their words are unrecognizable, nipping at me like a beast taunting its prey. The words are that of a different language, spoken with hatred and rage that shakes me to the core. Pushing from deep down, calling upon the Light to take control, I struggle to separate myself from the book’s power.

  “AIDEN!” Mom calls from somewhere that seems far away from where I am—lost somewhere within myself. Again, my name is called, but this time the voices are singing it mockingly into the empty space of my mind.

  “Aiden?” A knock on the door sounds behind me, and I fight with every inch of my being. She can’t see me like this.

  With the last of my strength, the Light within me glares stronger than ever. In those mere seconds that it comes to life, I strain to hold on. Seconds is all I need. The book’s hold begins to weaken, unhinging from my skin. Now is my chance to act. I pull back and throw it as far away from me as I can. The door opens. Mom’s wide eyes blink back at me.

  “Why are you just sitting there ignoring me?”

  “I didn’t hear you.” I can barely spit out the words. “I’m sorry.”

  Her brows pinch together as she looks about curiously. “Well… dinner’s ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right down.”

  I push myself off the bed, trying to steady my shaking legs. When she accepts that I’m following, she heads back to the kitchen.

  The impact of the passage begins to sink in. If the Dark Priest plans to use a Mortal Gateway to overthrow the church, I have to get to them before he does.

  And I’m pretty sure I know where to find him.

  espite Koren’s pleas to stay away from the church, going means finding everything I need to know about the Order of Shadows. Father Martin must know what exists beneath the building. And if he doesn’t, I think it’s time he did.

  A text from Trevor chimes by the time I reach the church. In response to my frantic message this morning, it reads: Meet at my house after school.

  I have to love that about Trevor. No questions. No explanation needed. Not even when the message is: Shit’s getting real. Need to talk.

  Doing things alone is my usual protocol. But when I’m stuck at home and there’s a possible end-of-the-world situation going on, that’s about the time a person needs to suck down their pride and confess it’s time to seek help. I need another pair of eyes watching the school and anywhere else I can’t be. If Justin is the other Mortal Gateway releasing the Order, then I have to make him see reason.

  An old woman and what looks like her grandson are sitting in the front row when I enter the church. A singular candle is lit at the altar and I try not to startle them as I pass. The small boy’s eyes are round and solemn when he peers up at me. His nose and cheeks are flushed with emotions and his grandmother’s bottom lip quakes as she holds back the tears fighting to erupt. A wave of grief hits me for their loss. Their story could go so many ways, but all I can think is that whatever parental figure the child had left has been lost. I wonder when I’ll see them, walking blindly in search for the Gateway, for me, to send them home.

  On light feet, I tread toward the hall in search for Father Martin. His chamber door is left open a crack, which is strange since he’s always careful to close it behind him. I knock once and wait for a response that never comes. Again, I tap harder with my knuckle. Still nothing.

  “Father Martin?” With a soft push, the door opens little by little, exposing an unoccupied room. A handwritten note rests along the desk with my name at the top.

  Aiden,

  Will be back shortly.

  F.M.

  I slump into my usual seat in hopes it won’t be long. It isn’t like I have a dozen other things I could be doing with my time. What exactly am I supposed to learn from my time here? If knowing what I’m up against is all he plans to teach me, then I think our work here is done.

  The tapping of my foot gets faster and louder, the longer I stare at the clock on the wall. I swear to myself I’ll leave if he doesn’t show.

  The creak of a door pierces through the silent air, snapping my attention back to my surroundings. Over my shoulder, I find the door closed just how I left it. I’m sure I heard a door squeak open somewhere. Shrugging it off, I reach in my back pocket for my phone.

  Another creak shrills into my ears, and I’m positive this time of what I heard. With slow movement, I search the room for the sound. It couldn’t have come from the main entrance. This was too loud and too close. My skin prickles with a cold breeze that wraps itself against me, slithering down my arms like a snake. I shake the feeling and get to my feet, walking the perimeter of the room in search for the draft kicking through.

  Nothing but bookshelves line the walls, but one section protrudes slightly more than the rest. I guide my hands gently along the wood, searching for proper leverage to pop the bookshelf farther out. With my ear pressed
against it, I listen for voices or anything to give away what could be on the other side. Nothing but a slight hiss of a breeze makes itself known. I try again to latch my fingers around the wood, finding just enough room to swing the bookcase outward.

  It’s heavier than I thought it would be. I put all my strength into it. As soon as it opens wide enough, the cold draft crushes into the room, tumbling over me like a gigantic wave. An open hole where a door should have been leads to a dark pit of stairs. The sun shining through the windows is my only source of light, guiding my eyes down a steep, stone staircase. I can only count the first five steps in front of me, as the light fades into the darkness below. The stone walls hold antique lanterns that look to have been used centuries before. Everything is covered with dust and grime, and the scent of rot pollutes my nostrils.

  There’s no question this path will take me to the underground tunnels, the ones Koren told me about. I know I’m not prepared for what awaits me at the bottom, but will I ever be? For a moment, I consider waiting to tell Father Martin my discovery, but I know he would only forbid me from entering. I’d be a fool to believe he didn’t know about this place already.

  I remove my phone and turn on the light. Taking one last deep breath of fresh air, I prepare myself for the descent. How the draft managed to push the hidden door open, I have no clue. It must be coming from somewhere deep within. If anything, I tell myself, it could be Father Martin down here. He’s been gone long enough, maybe something’s happened.

  Each step takes me deeper into some kind of cavern. The only ventilation is provided by small holes along the wall. I peek through one and only find blackness. But the sound of something below trails its way to my ears, like whispers repeating a phrase too quickly for me to understand. To be sure, I look back toward the door to find it’s still open, in case I need a quick escape. If Father Martin isn’t the one down here, well, let’s hope he’ll find me alive.