The Forever Gate Compendium Edition

by Isaac Hooke

  "Tanner's doing a pretty good job in her absence though, isn't he?" Jacob said. "He'd make a fine New User."

  "The kid's growing up fast," Hoodwink agreed. "Real fast. Eight months ago Tanner was just a pup, hardly able to walk, fresh from the Inside, but now look at him. He's a quick-study, and already he's mastered most of the ship's systems. I'm proud of the kid."

  "Helen there, she's the same age as Tanner." Jacob pointed out one of the wrinkled old terminal operators. Hoodwink had thought her a man, at first. "Pity, that we have to age so. You should take more of us Out, Hoodwink. Let us come back as gols."

  "That's certainly possible," Hoodwink said.

  "You don't sound very enthusiastic."

  Hoodwink sighed. "There's not much space on the Outside, Jacob. It's pretty crowded enough as it is."

  "I'm only asking you to let out a few of us. The older, more valuable members."

  Hoodwink grunted. "Like yourself?"

  "Just consider it, that's all I'm asking," Jacob said.

  Hoodwink shook his head. Everyone always wanted something from him.

  He was about to excuse himself when a man dressed in elaborate furs came strutting into the room. Al was at his side.

  "Who the hell's that?" Hoodwink said underbreath.

  "Trouble."

  "Well hello," the man in furs said when he reached Hoodwink. "Al's told me all about you, Master Hoodwink. A New User disguised as a gol disguised as a human. Ingenious! I hope you and your debonair companion over there enjoy your stay at the Warehouse!"

  "Hoodwink," Al said. "Meet Calico Cap."

  Hoodwink nodded thoughtfully. Calico Cap, the leader of the Black Faction. He'd apparently earned his nickname for the finely cut furs he wore, a patchwork of white, black, and brown, like a cat's hide. He wore polished, silver-worked boots, and white fur gloves that seemed almost part of the coat. Three silver skulls were pinned to his high collar.

  Lithe and strong of body, he carried himself well. And Al hadn't been kidding when he'd said Cap looked like Hoodwink. Matted hair, a long beak of a nose, a thick mustache that curved down slightly around the ends of the lips, a slight goatee that rounded out the chin. Dark eyes that burned with purpose.

  "You were right, Al," Cap said. "The man's my spitting image!" He chuckled as if he'd made some grand joke.

  On cue, Al laughed.

  "Someday you'll have to tell me your secret." Cap leaned forward conspiratorially. "How to become a gol, I mean." He jabbed Hoodwink good-naturedly in the ribs. "And I must thoroughly thank you for bringing us the mayor's Control Room. Not to mention his Revision Room. We've put the latter to good use, let me tell you. Oh, and the Dwarf may yet prove useful as well."

  Hoodwink regarded the man warily. "I wasn't aware any of these things were actually given to you. I thought we'd only put them here for safe-keeping." He shot Jacob an angry look.

  "Oh, but you're completely right!" Cap laid an arm around Hoodwink's shoulders just as if the two of them were the best of friends. "But I figured we might as well put these items to good use until you take them back!"

  Alarm bells were going off in Hoodwink's head. "And what kind of 'use' did you have in mind?"

  "Why, expanding our little operation of course!" Cap was all smiles.

  Al was nodding fervently, and he rolled his hands one over the other as if to imply that Hoodwink should nod along with him. Jacob meanwhile was doing his best imitation of a deaf man, taking care to observe the far corner of the room and nothing else.

  "Expanding your operation," Hoodwink said dryly.

  "Yes." Cap continued to beam. "We're planning to take over the entire city."

  "I see." Give a little to a thief, and next he'll expect the world. Hoodwink frowned at Jacob. "And the New Users approve?"

  Jacob still didn't meet his eye.

  "Why of course," Cap said. "We get rid of Jeremy, and Jacob here becomes mayor."

  "Ah," Hoodwink said. "So that's it. You know we'll have to clear this with Ari first, right?"

  Finally Jacob looked at him. Hoodwink thought he saw a small spark of electricity flash in Jacob's left eye. A spark of defiance. But it was only for an instant, so short that Hoodwink might have imagined it.

  "This town needs a new mayor," Jacob said. "You know that. I know it. If the Black Faction wants to help us take the town, I say let them. I'm sure Ari would agree. I'll wait for her approval, of course. And the role of mayor is hers, if she wants it."

  "Generous," Hoodwink said. "Tell me, how many thugs from the Den are you going to uncollar?"

  Jacob glanced at Cap. "We haven't discussed that, yet."

  "The Black Faction isn't a den of fools," Cap said. "We've done our very best to avoid attracting the attention of the gols over the years, but now that the time of our rise is at hand, I plan to have every last man in the Den uncollared."

  Hoodwink shook his head. "You are a den of fools. Even with every man in the Den uncollared, you won't take the city. You have no idea what you're facing. No idea at all." They'd probably all die. Though perhaps that was for the best. It wouldn't do to have thugs from the Den running around with lightning.

  Jacob straightened as best he could, likely a hard thing for the old, bent man. "Jeremy is a pampered fool who inherited all his riches and knows nothing about running a city, let alone winning a battle. Our scouts have reported that his Direwalker army has vanished, literally overnight. His mansion is undefended and ripe for the taking."

  Hoodwink smiled, though it was a false one, and he knew his eyes must look cold. "Jeremy has other defenses..."

  "We will vanquish whatever he throws at us."

  Hoodwink sighed. This was a battle he wasn't going to win, at least not this way. "A glutton for pain and loss, are you? But as I said, you'll have to clear it with Ari first."

  "Oh I will," Jacob said. Cap was smirking beside him. "You said she was coming soon. When, exactly?"

  "Tomorrow or the day after. You'll make no move against the mayor until you hear from her, understood?" Hoodwink stared hard at the man.

  Jacob returned his stare defiantly. He glanced at Cap, and the man nodded his curt assent. Jacob bowed his head. "We will wait, Hoodwink."

  "Good man." Hoodwink wasn't sure he believed him. "I think we're done here?" He glanced across the room. "Tanner?"

  "I've found the children," Tanner said, not looking up. He acted like he was oblivious to the whole conversation. Probably heard every word though. "I'm sending the message now. It'll be a while before I hear back, even if they're glued to their terminals." That was true—time passed far faster on the Inside. "And I'm still looking for Brute, and the other item of interest. Why don't you visit Cora or something in the meantime?"

  Hoodwink's heart pounded suddenly. "Cora?"

  "Yeah. She's here. I forgot to mention it, didn't I?"

  "You did." A line of sweat dribbled down Hoodwink's ribs. Cora.

  Hoodwink glanced at Jacob. The old man smiled knowingly. "She's a handful, that one, I tell you. Best of luck to you."

  Hoodwink couldn't return Jacob's smile.

  How could he?

  It fell on Hoodwink to tell Cora that their daughter was dead.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  One of Cap's lackeys escorted Hoodwink through the Warehouse. He was a dour sort, and kept giving Hoodwink dark looks. Acne scars pocked his cheeks, and reminded Hoodwink a little of Ganymede's surface when viewed from above. The lackey was dressed in a sealskin jacket similar to the one Al had worn, except only a single skull was pinned to his high collar.

  The Warehouse was really just a big mansion. The halls were ornate, with diamond-shaped floor tiles made of polished black stone imported from Dhenn. Tall arched windows let in ample sunlight. The wall panels were made of dark red wood, hard as bronze and chiseled with sea creatures of surprising beauty. Odd statuettes were set into the alcoves along the way, mostly of naked men and women sprouting tentacles.

  Hoodwink passed a kitchen, an
d the sweet aroma of spiced wine and hot honeycakes almost tempted him to barge inside and scoop up as much as he could carry. But he knew that while the illusory food might satisfy his taste buds, it would provide no nourishment whatsoever.

  The lackey eventually halted beside an arched burgundy door guarded by two old men.

  "Enjoy." The lackey turned on his heels.

  "Don't I get an introduction?" Hoodwink said, but the lackey was already halfway down the hall.

  Hoodwink sighed, and studied the two guards.

  The one on the left had a red face, and was slightly on the stocky side, carrying a bit of a paunch round his waist. His receding hair was white, and he seemed around sixty years old or so. He wore a dark green cloak.

  The man on the right was bone-thin, with only wispy tufts of hair on that otherwise scaly head. His white brow was the highlight of his features, a huge, bushy, undisciplined thing. The rest of his face was a shriveled mess, with the skin stretched so tight Hoodwink worried it would crack if the man tried to make any sort of expression. He was truly the oldest man Hoodwink had ever seen. His cloak was a dark gray.

  Both men were uncollared. New Users.

  Hoodwink smiled politely. "I'm here to see Cora, friends." He made to pass between the two.

  "Not so fast, gol." The green-cloaked man raised his hands. "No one sees Cora unless Ari or Jacob says so." He emphasized his point by letting electricity spark from his fingertips.

  Always obstacles, Hoodwink thought, not bothered in the least by the subtle show of power. He had no weapon of his own, of course. And he didn't have vitra. No gols did. He had only his wits.

  That was usually all he needed.

  "I have Jacob's approval, I promise you." Hoodwink tucked his thumbs inside his belt and thrummed the leather. "Name's Hoodwink. Hoodwink Cooper. Perhaps you've heard of me? My name has some pull among the Users, both old and new. At least it used to. And that's my dear wife you got in there."

  "Hoodwink?" The green-cloaked man brightened. "Did you say Hoodwink?"

  "This isn't Hoodwink you fool," piped up the gray-cloaked man beside him. Rasping and harsh, his voice sounded nearly as ancient as he looked. "It's a gol!"

  "But Tanner's a gol," Green-cloak said. "And so is Ari!"

  Gray-cloak regarded Hoodwink uncertainly. "How can we be sure you is who you say you is?"

  Hoodwink gave him his trademark shit-eating grin. "Everyone knows that Hoodwink is seven feet tall, spits lightning bolts from his eyes, breathes fire from his lips and shits black death from his arse, so of course I must be him."

  Green-cloak chortled.

  "I am Hoodwink. Through and through. Now if you two bumbling jackanapes don't let me pass to see my wife, I'll knock both your numb skulls together and take a burning piss on your unconscious backsides."

  "Uh," Green-cloak said.

  "Uh," Gray-cloak said.

  "That's what I thought." Hoodwink nodded in sour satisfaction, and shoved his way past the confused pair before they could oppose him.

  He shut the door behind him.

  "Was wondering when you'd come." Cora sat in a ladderback chair, a mandolin resting in her lap, its pluck on the table beside her.

  Hoodwink was taken aback by the changes in Cora. Gone was the beautiful woman he'd named his wife, the woman with the twinkling eyes and the easy smile, replaced by a hunched imitation, her face lined by strain and worry, her dark eyes red and swollen as if she cried often, her hair more white than brown. An angry sea of ridges wrinkled her forehead and her nose was a bumpy knot.

  Hoodwink's heart went out to her, it really did, and he felt the fresh weight of guilt pressing down on him. If he kept looking at her he thought he might weep, so he distracted himself by studying the room instead.

  A candle lit the room from the table beside her. There was a visitor's chair off to one side, plain though well-polished. A small rug covered the center of the floor, woven into simple bars of red and yellow. A bookshelf sat against the far wall, filled with only three tomes. A bed and chamber pot used up the remaining space.

  Overall, the room was little more than a windowless closet. He felt a bit insulted that Cora would be forced to stay here.

  "Damn bastards could've given you a better room," Hoodwink said.

  "Had a better room at first." Cora's voice was unusually quiet, and Hoodwink had to strain to hear her. "Bright. Shiny. Lots of furniture. But I asked to be moved here. Suits my mood. Reminds me of me home in Dhenn."

  "Oh."

  Her old accent was gone, and she sounded oddly like him. Which made sense if she'd lived in Dhenn. Luckdown District, where he grew up, was also known as Little Dhenn because of all the transplants from said city.

  Hoodwink tentatively crossed the chamber, and lowered himself into the visitor's chair. He noticed for the first time that the tips of Cora's fingers were bloody. He wanted to touch her hands, cradle them, but that would be far too familiar.

  "Cora, your poor hands," he said instead.

  Eyes sad, Cora sighed. "Got nothing else to do here, I don't. Nothing to do whatsoever except play my fingers to the bone. And sing myself hoarse."

  "Bastards," Hoodwink said. "They could at least allow you more freedom."

  "Ari did this," Cora said.

  Hoodwink stared down at his own hands. "She only wants to protect you."

  "Oh, I'm sure she does. But you don't understand. Whatever she wants to do with me, she can. I fought her, you know, at first. Kicked and screamed all the way here. Well, most of the way. But I know now that I was wrong to fight. I should've followed her obediently, for what I done to her. For what you and I both done. We're forever in her debt. You know that, Hoodwink, don't you? Forever in her debt."

  "We are." Hoodwink set his elbow in his lap, and palmed his chin. How was he going to tell her?

  Cora strummed the mandolin weakly a few times. "I play happy songs, usually. The kind I used to play when you'd come home from work, and Yolinda from school. Yolinda. Do you remember when Ari was still called that? The songs make me think of her, of the better times. Do you remember Ode to White Park?"

  Hoodwink smiled. That was a song she had invented in celebration of White Park, where he and Cora used to bring their little daughter everyday. They often kissed behind the trees while Yolinda cavorted with her friends. "I do. It's one of my favorites."

  "Would you like to hear the tune?"

  Hoodwink nodded. "I would."

  Cora grinned for the first time, though it seemed somehow wrong on her face, those sad eyes betraying the smile for the lie it was. But instead of resting her fingertips over the strings in the proper manner, she wrapped her bloodied fingers around the strings, and yanked. The cords dug into her fingers, but she didn't stop pulling, the tendons standing out in her wrists.

  "Cora," Hoodwink said. "Why the melodrama? Cora, just stop—"

  All at once the strings snapped. So she'd done it. She'd broken her mandolin. Perhaps the last source of happiness she had left in this world. She'd broken it right in front of him.

  That false smile didn't waver the whole time.

  Hoodwink felt the hairs on the nape of his neck rise. He had to be very careful. In the past Cora could be like a caged viper—one wrong move and that viper would leap out at him, biting. Was she still that way? And if so, just how the hell was he going to break the news about Ari without uncaging that viper?

  "Maybe I should come back later," he said, standing.

  "No, please stay," Cora said. "Stay. Today's a day of revelations and forgiveness." She dropped the mandolin to the floor, slid her body to the edge of the chair, and patted the cushion beside her, leaving prints of blood. "Sit with me."

  "Cora, I—"

  "Sit." Still smiling.

  Hoodwink approached hesitantly. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a bad idea. That she was up to something. "Look, Cora, I have to tell you something. And you're probably not going to like it."

  "Since when have I ev
er liked anything you have to say?" Still smiling.

  Hoodwink neared the chair. She patted the cushion again, smiling sweetly, eyes all sadness.

  The viper... the caged viper...

  Hoodwink started to sit—

  He paused halfway down, waiting for the furtive knife, or the strike in the back.

  Nothing came.

  She was still smiling.

  He sat.

  His leg touched hers.

  Electricity flowed into him.

  And then he knew.

  "You're a User," he said.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Hoodwink regarded her cautiously. She could incinerate him at any time if she knew what she was doing.

  "Yes," Cora said, the sorrow obvious in her voice, the smile finally leaving her face. "I am a User. I've become the very thing I've always hated and feared. I was in the depths of depression six months ago, decrying my lot in life, when I realized I hadn't punished myself enough. No, there was one final punishment left. I had to become like her.

  "So I asked around, found a smith who'd be willing to try to break the collar. Nearly took my head off, but he did it, and fashioned a new, fake collar for me to wear. I went home, and kept waiting for the gols to come for me. I kept wishing that they would. But they never did. The smith never talked. No one ever found out.

  "It's a strange, funny thing, because even though I have the power, I can't use it. Even when I first touched vitra all those years ago, before they done the collaring, I couldn't shape it. It just flows across the surface of my skin. When Ari came to my house a few days back, I almost told her, wanted to brag how I'd punished myself for her, but I couldn't. She's suffered so much more than me, and my suffering is just a shred of what she's been through. No, I thought it better I suffer in silence."

  "But you want me to know."

  She nodded sadly. "I do. Not out of spite, mind. It just seems right somehow that you know, is all. That you're not the only one who's suffered because of what we done."

  Hoodwink fidgeted with his own collar. He wanted to tell her that his was fake too. That he might be able to teach her how to use the vitra within her, despite that he couldn't wield it in this body. He even considered going so far as to tell her that he was a gol, since she hadn't seemed to notice. But there were some things best left unsaid, for now.