“Why?” Lex asked. He took her hand in his.
Amelia took a breath. “It’s true that I’m an ordinary girl, where I come from.” A short laugh escaped her. “Less than ordinary, really. But… I lied because I’m not supposed to be here.”
Lex froze. “What do you mean?”
“I came here by accident at first, and then I did come back on purpose but I didn’t know. Really, I didn’t. I thought it was – but it wasn’t. Then once I realized what was happening, it was too late; I was stuck.”
Lex searched her face. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“Lex,” Amelia said. “Please don’t freak out…”
He was starting to worry. “What is it?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. He trusted her, he knew that now, no matter what her past held. But still, he steeled himself for what she might be about to say. Was she with the enemy? Was she truly a spy? Was she an escaped prisoner or a stowaway or a criminal on the run?
“I’m… from another world.”
Lex stared at her. “What?”
“Another–”
Her explanation cut off in a scream as her eyes fixed on something behind him. Lex turned just in time to see a shovel coming toward his face as the man he’d spared earlier swung at him.
“This is for my brother!” the man shouted. The shovel knocked Lex unconscious.
CHAPTER 12
Lex floated in darkness. Somewhere in the distance, he heard voices. He swam toward them.
Something grabbed him and yanked him backward. Images slammed into him.
He was trapped in another glimpse, back in Jana’s living room. The television screen still cast its blue glow in front of him, Press Start blinking across it. But now something else was in front of him, too.
“You had a mission,” the Aiac hissed, its claws locked around his throat. “Mistress is not pleased.”
“Let me go to her and explain,” Marcus croaked.
“No,” said the creature, tightening its grip. “You have failed.” It dragged him across the room and held him out by one arm as it toppled a large bookcase over in front of the door.
From inside the kitchen, Marcus heard Jana squeak. “What was that?” she yelled. “Marcus?”
Someone banged on the door. “It’s stuck,” Steve said. “Marcus, are you okay?”
The Aiac drew Marcus back in front of him, flexing its claws into the tender skin of his throat.
“I just need more time,” Marcus whispered.
The Aiac squeezed. “You’ve been here too long already.”
Pressure built in Marcus’ head from lack of air. He reached blindly next to him for a weapon, a handhold to give him leverage, anything. His fingers found the ornate brass lamp on the table against the wall behind him. He grabbed and swung.
The lamp struck the Aaic’s skull with a metallic clunk. The Aiac dropped him and snarled.
Someone rattled the door-handle. “Marcus!” Steve yelled. “Open the door!”
“You will regret this,” the Aiac hissed. “And so will your precious family.” He sprung across the room and crashed out through the closed window. Glass rained to the floor.
“Marcus!” Jana’s high voice shouted. “What was that?”
Marcus glanced toward the door. It was beginning to nudge open, the bookcase and toppled books inching forward as Steve pushed.
Marcus frantically grabbed the console and instruction manual and jumped through the broken window after the Aiac. He knew where it was headed.
Marcus slowed as he neared the house, and crept around back. His parents thought he would still be at Jana’s for several hours. If the Aiac had gotten to them first, he might be too late. But if it hadn’t, Marcus needed them to keep thinking he wasn’t home. It was the only way to keep them safe.
He shoved the console and manual behind the hedge and pulled out his house key to unlock the back door, but it was already unlocked. He slipped inside.
The television sounded from the opposite side of the house. His parents were probably relaxing on the couch together, as they usually did in the afternoons. Unless he was too late. Please don’t let me be too late.
A thump came from the nursery. Gabe. Oh please, not Gabe. Marcus slipped down the hall and into the room.
The Aiac held the infant by the throat, his tiny legs dangling over the crib. His mouth was open as if to cry, but no sound escaped.
Marcus moved toward him. “Not Gabe. Please,” he whispered, meeting the Aiac’s dark eyes. “Take me instead.”
“You?” hissed the Aiac. “You still have a mission to complete.” It lifted the infant higher.
“No! Please,” Marcus whispered. “These people are helping my mission. They gave me a place to stay.”
“They made you weak,” the Aiac spat, its voice barely above a hiss. “I, too, have a mission. Mistress sends a message.” It placed its other clawed hand across Gabe’s face.
Marcus raced forward and grabbed at the creature’s arm, trying to pry Gabe from its grasp. “No!” he shouted. “Let him go!”
From the living room, a voice sounded. “Marcus? Is that you? Are you home?”
The Aiac shoved Marcus back and sneered. “Go on, then,” it said. “Call them in. Let them see what you truly are.” It raised its arms and let go of Gabe.
Marcus lunged forward to grab the infant as he fell.
The creature pushed past him and scurried out down the hall.
Marcus tumbled to the floor, holding Gabe to his chest. “Gabe?” he rolled him over in his arms. His eyes were closed, his small form unmoving. “No!” Marcus yelled. “Gabe!” He pressed his brother to his body.
Marcus’ foster parents burst into the room.
“What is–” His father stopped mid-sentence as his mother screamed.
She rushed to him and snatched Gabe from his arms. “What happened?” she shrieked. “What happened?”
“He just–he’s not–I tried to help,” Marcus stammered.
His mother’s eyes were wild as she looked up at her husband. “He’s not breathing!” she cried, placing him on the floor. She peeled back his pajamas and placed her head to his chest. “I can’t hear his heart!”
Marcus’ father was already in the hallway using the phone. “Yes, our baby is unconscious; he’s not breathing.”
Marcus sank to the floor. I’m so sorry, Gabe. Please, please forgive me.
The world tilted.
“Again!” the man shouted, striking Marcus across the back with his long staff. “On your feet!”
Marcus’ arms shook as he pushed himself up from the hard floor. Blood trickled from his nose.
“Up!” the man shouted again.
Marcus scrambled to his feet. “I need water,” he said. “It will only take a moment.”
“Water breaks are for children. You are eleven years old.” The man paused, his eyes narrowing. “You are a prince, are you not?”
Marcus swallowed. “Yes, Father.”
“As a prince, you are a reflection of your kingdom, of your family, and of your king, are you not?”
“Yes, Father.”
“And is your king weak?”
“No, Father.”
His father rested the bottom of his staff on the floor, folding his hands across it. “Good. Then again.”
Marcus shifted into fighting stance and braced for the staff to strike him.
The world tilted.
Marcus knelt on the hard ground of the throne room.
“You understand your duties?” his father’s cold voice called out.
“Yes, Father.”
“Good. We cannot accept another failure like before. Do you understand?”
He still treats me like a child, Marcus seethed. But now was not the time to fight that battle. There were bigger things at stake. He bowed his head. “Yes, Father.”
“It is an honor to be chosen in such a way, my s
on,” the king stated, “especially at the age of fifteen. You should be grateful for the chance to return honor to your family so soon after such an abysmal and disappointing return.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Say it.”
Marcus clenched his teeth, then forced out the words. “It is an honor to be chosen.”
“Good. Now go.” His father waved his hand, dismissing him. “And do not embarrass me this time.”
Marcus rose and strode from the room.
A guard stopped him in the doorway. “This time, she will kill you if you fail,” he sneered.
Marcus stormed past him and down the corridor.
The world tilted.
He floated in a sea of nothingness.
Naya’s small body drifted across the darkness, entrails hanging from her ruined stomach, her mouth open in a silent shriek. Her eyes snapped open. She raised one arm, pointing at him. “You,” she said. “You–”
The word trailed out, morphing into a scream which became Amelia’s voice.
“Lex, watch out!” the voice cried.
The world tilted.
Lex awoke to a major headache and his arms and legs tied to a chair… again. He blinked against the light. He was in a room with wooden floors, lit by a lantern hanging from the angled ceiling. Suddenly Lex he knew exactly where he was – the empty room at the Aracthea Inn, the one he’d run through between the two sets of stairs on his way to find Amelia. The small window had been covered with a black cloth, blocking any view of outside.
“You’re awake!” a voice said. An old man with a scraggly beard and crooked smile missing teeth suddenly popped into Lex’s line of sight, leaning upside-down over him from behind. The face disappeared for a moment as the man scurried around the chair and appeared in front of Lex, giving him a deep bow. He straightened back and gave a wide grin. “Nice to see you!”
The man was gangly, old, and looked as though neither his hair nor his long, brown tunic had been washed in some time. His whitish beard hung nearly to his knobby knees, and his spindly calves stuck out beneath the bottom of his tunic, under which he seemed to be wearing nothing. His feet were covered in makeshift sandals of flat leather and some rope.
Lex gasped. “Nigel.”
Nigel’s grin turned into a smirk. “Ahhh, so you do know me,” he said. “I wondered if you would.”
Lex strained against his wrist restraints. “I don’t know you,” he grunted. “But I know who you are. Now why are you holding me here? Untie me!”
“Oh!” Nigel yanked a small knife from beneath the leather strap that cinched the waist of his baggy tunic. “Sorry!” He ran around behind Lex and cut the ropes holding his wrists and ankles.
Lex pulled his hands around in front and rolled his shoulders, eyeing Nigel as he moved back in front of him.
“I’d forgotten I tied you up, you see,” Nigel said with a shrug.
Lex stared at him. “No, I don’t.”
“Come now, no need to be upset,” Nigel said, spreading his hands. “I meant no harm.” He glanced off toward a blank corner of the room. “But one can never be too safe…”
Lex sighed. The man was clearly a loon, but perhaps a harmless one. “Where are we?” He asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear the old man’s explanation.
“Aracthea Inn,” Nigel said.
“How did I get here?”
“You were carried,” Nigel answered.
“You carried me by yourself?” Lex asked. The old man hardly seemed strong enough.
“Oh, no,” Nigel said. “You were carried by that. I just followed.” He gestured toward a dark corner of the room.
Lex turned to find a dead Aiac in the corner, still in creature form – or what was left of it. It was a mutilated mess, lacerations criss-crossing its body, its limbs twisted outward at wrong angles, and dark, black sludge oozing around from every orifice. “What did you do to it?” Lex asked, spinning to Nigel.
Nigel shrugged. “Who said it was me?”
Lex thought he caught Nigel’s meaning, but he decided not to ask. He didn’t know how many more revelations he could take about what he did while unaware.
“Where are my friends?” Lex asked. The last he remembered, Amelia had screamed, and – what if something had happened to her after he’d fallen unconscious? And where were Acarius and Lytira?
“On their way, I’d think,” Nigel said. “When the Aiac took you they tried to follow, but Aiacs can fly, you know. In any case, I’m sure they’ll find you soon. It’s best we just wait for them. You know, so we don’t miss them. It would be a shame to leave just as they were coming.”
Lex looked at the old man. Nigel really did seem more unhinged than threatening… but Lex remembered the impression from his previous vision that there was more to the man than he let on. The glimpse had also showed him to be a friend to Marcus and Acarius, hadn’t it? And Lex needed to know what was going on. He would have to risk it. “Nigel,” he asked, “what do you know about me?”
Nigel stared at him. “That is a very big question with too many answers,” he said.
The glimpse of the Aiac and Gabe still pressed upon Lex’s consciousness. And the other vision which went with it, the one with the video game. They had to be connected, and something in him suspected Nigel would know how. “What do you know about a game called Legends of Arameth?” Lex asked.
Nigel’s whole body went rigid.
“There’s something about that game,” Lex said, “and me. And my brother, Marcus. Isn’t there?”
“Stop calling it a game,” Nigel spat. “It’s not a game; it’s a myopian portal.”
“A – what?”
Nigel’s threw up his hands. “Myopian. As in you don’t see the problems until…” He studied Lex’s eyes then sighed, letting his arms fall. “Nevermind. You at least know what portal means, yes?”
Lex bristled. He hated feeling stupid, but his concept of portals was shadowy at best, more a guess pulled from some deep, foggy consciousness than an actual knowledge. And this was something on which he couldn’t risk assumptions. “Why don’t you explain what you mean by it, just in case,” he said.
Nigel rolled his eyes. “It’s a door between worlds, an opening. In this case, a very tenuous and dangerous one which never should have been made.”
“What does that have to do with the game?” Lex asked, trying to follow.
“It’s not a game!” Nigel snapped. “Legends of Arameth is just an overlay, a user interface, a control system for harnessing Arameth’s natural electrical atmosphere and channeling it into a controlled rift, a tunnel which can carry travelers through safely from an adjacent dimension. I thought I was very clever at the time, for disguising it as a gaming system.” He stopped. “In hindsight, it was a terrible idea.”
He paced in a small circle, turning his back on Lex for a moment, then spun around and stuck out his hand. “I’m Nigel here, but Marcus also knew me as Luther, honorary member of The Gatekeepers, revolutionary scientist, government-sponsored technological genius, and the second traveler through from Earth via a brilliantly-engineered but terribly dangerous portal.” His face pinched into a scowl. “I wish I’d never made that blasted thing.”
“Then why did you?” Lex asked.
“Why does a man do any of the crazy things he does?” Nigel shrugged.
Lex stared. “I don’t – “
“Love,” Nigel said flatly. “I did it for love.”
Lex blinked, unsure what question to even start with.
Nigel sighed again and turned, staring off toward a blank wall. “I’d just built the first console,” he said. “It was unprecedented, an expansive virtual reality system which harnessed actual biological materials from the surrounding environment and used the player’s genetic coding to assemble them into a physical host that could sync with the player’s nervous system and interact within the bio-arena of the game, theoretically, while leavi
ng the controlling player unharmed. It still needed tweaks, and I’d only had enough materials to test it on a very small scale, but it worked. It would have changed the entire gaming industry, not to mention the implications for medical science and robotics. But I needed funding to complete it.” He took a long breath. “I put in for a grant and got it. My wife Vanessa was over the moon. She was certain I was about to make history and earn us a fortune. We certainly needed it. I used the grant money to finish the system, but every test I ran on it failed. I couldn’t replicate my initial success. Then they came.”
“Who?” Lex asked.
“The Gatekeepers. They knew about Vanessa’s disease, what treatments we’d tried, how nothing had worked. And they knew why.” He turned toward Lex. “Her family was in the book.”
“What book?”
Nigel ran his hands over his face. “How is it possible you know so little?” He groaned. “The book. The book. The one that traces the lineage of the Ancient who made the first rift, crossed over to our world, got himself a human bride, and bred a bunch of half-Ancient hybrids.” His voice ramped up, getting faster and louder. “The book that generations of a secret order have been entrusted with preserving in an attempt to harness the latent Aramethian energy within someone of the genetic line of dual-borns to re-open a portal to a magical world thought by all rational people to be nothing but a myth! The book!”
“Okay,” Lex said slowly. “The book. Got it.”
“I didn’t believe them at first,” Nigel said.
Lex wasn’t sure he believed it now.
“But they had proof,” Nigel said. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a leather cord. On the end hung a pendant, similar to the one Acarius had given Lex, but with different etchings.
“How does that prove anything?” Lex asked.
But Nigel slipped the pendant back under his tunic and continued talking. “The treatments weren’t working because the disease wasn’t in the human part of her. It was in the part tied to Arameth. And only a treatment from here could cure her.” He paused. “They asked me to build a portal.”
The Edge of Nothing_The Lex Chronicles_Book 1 Page 18
