Repairer of the Breach (Stones of Fire Book 4)

by Sarah Ashwood

  “Who’s there?” I said.

  Or tried to say. My tongue felt thick. My mouth was dry. My other senses weren’t working so well, either. My hearing was dull, like someone had draped a blanket over my head, muffling sound. Furthermore, I kept seeing this bright, almost golden glare. My brain tried to figure it out. Was it sunlight breaking through the clouds, reflecting off the fog in a brilliant glow? I narrowed my vision in an attempt to puzzle out exactly what I was seeing, but it didn’t compute.

  In the midst of the glow was a figure with a vaguely human shape and human features, but it seemed to be fashioned from white and brightness and golden light. Was it some sort of shifter I hadn’t met before? I blinked and took off my glasses to rub my eyes. By the time I’d replaced them, I saw a man standing in front of me. A man who looked fairly normal, except for his strange clothes and the wings on its back, but the wings didn’t surprise me much. After all, the first shapeshifter I’d ever seen that long ago night in the Costas’ courtyard, when my innocence of what was really out there had been cruelly stripped away, was a winged griffin. Either I was inured to the sight of shifters and the supernatural by now, or I was too weary to be frightened, or else I was actually still asleep and dreaming. Whatever was happening, I surprised myself by not freaking out to see a random stranger a few feet away.

  “Eleanor.”

  The man spoke. His voice was deep, sending a thrum through my pulse. “Eleanor,” he repeated. “You have been heard. Lift your eyes to the hills. Help is there.”

  The hills?

  I couldn’t remember seeing any hills. Only water, the beach, the endless forest…

  “You haven’t much time,” he went on. “You must find help for him. He is the Repairer of the Breach, and you must save him.”

  I didn’t know what he meant by Repairer of the Breach. Was he talking about Carter? He had to be, but what breach was Carter supposed to repair? How would he repair it? How could he do anything if he didn’t wake up?

  “I-I don’t understand,” I stuttered. “What breach? I don’t even know where we are. Wh—what place is this?”

  “This is the other world,” the stranger explained. “One of many, but the one from whence came the Talos’ kind. If war is to be prevented upon Earth, war between his kind and yours, the breach must be healed. He alone can complete it.”

  My overawed, fuzzy brain struggled to think. Did that mean—where had Mr. Costas told me shifter and shifter magic originated? Atlantis? I’d sort of written it off as a joke or a fairytale at the time. But if what the visitor was saying was true, could the portal have actually brought us to Atlantis? I guessed it made sense, in a strange sort of way, that the magic of the Stones would have drawn us back to where everything began. However, what this creature was saying still didn’t make sense. It almost sounded like a prophecy—like a real prophecy. Like Carter, the Talos, had an actual job to do or destiny to fulfill.

  As if reading my mind, the creature said, “His destiny is in his blood. The blood will unlock all. The blood is the key.”

  “The key to what?”

  No change of expression, but I got the feeling my visitor was staring at me as if I were really stupid.

  “The blood is the key,” he said again.

  With that, he drifted backwards, as if preparing to go.

  “Wait!” I exclaimed. I shot up, holding up a hand. “If the blood is the key, if Carter has some important job to do, then he can’t die here, can he? How am I supposed to help him?”

  “Lift your eyes to the hills. Your help will come from the hills.”

  “What help? What hills? What—”

  “No more!”

  The creature’s voice rang with a power, an authority that made me shrink. He raised his other arm, displaying a staff that had been hidden by his wings. Even as I scrambled back, unwilling to be near him but also unwilling to leave Carter, he stretched out his staff, touching the end to a large stone lying nearby in the sand. Fiery warmth curled from the end of it, setting the stone ablaze. I covered my mouth with my hand, watching the stone melt down, its rough grey form dissolving, softening into a different shape: a jug, a covered box.

  “Here is strength,” said the creature. “Take it and eat. In the strength of this meat you shall go. In its power, your eyes will be opened. Find him the help he needs. Help the Repairer of the Breach.”

  More questions filled my mind, tumbling around my skull like snowflakes in a snow globe. Before I could voice them, the visitor’s wings gently flapped, raising him off the ground.

  “Wait!” I tried to insist, but my tongue wouldn’t cooperate. The arm I tried to lift refused to raise itself. I blinked rapidly as I fought a wave of nausea, fatigue. All of the sudden, my head was too heavy to hold up. The strength in my limbs liquefied. I felt myself sliding down onto the Talos’ cold, motionless form. My head sank onto his chest. My eyelids obscured my vision. In my head, I heard a final word—“Help has come, but now you must rest before the approaching conflict.”

  I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know what any of this meant, but it didn’t matter. My dreams were calling me. I surrendered and slept.

  Chapter Three

  How much time passed before I woke up again, I had no idea. The day didn’t seem to have changed much, as far as light and dark were concerned. Either I hadn’t been out long, or night and day worked differently here. I didn’t waste any time trying to figure it out. Instead, my first thought was Carter. He was still in his Talos form. Should I be concerned about that or not? What if he was permanently stuck as the Talos? Or was it the Talos form keeping him alive?

  I felt at his mouth for breath, my own hitching in my chest until I made certain of his. Then I checked the slice above his ankle. It still seeped dark blue blood, but not like before. I hoped that was a good sign.

  The next order of business was to see what my visitor had left. I knew I couldn’t have hallucinated the entire thing. There was the stone he’d melted with the tip of his staff into an old-fashioned clay jug with a long neck and, next to it, a plain wooden chest. Also, in my ears rang his message that my help was in the hills; that I should lift my eyes to the hills for help.

  “What hills?” I wondered aloud, my gaze sweeping the area.

  Incredibly—or not so incredibly, if my strange visitor had something to do with it—the thick fog wreathing the forest had lifted. The distant shapes were recognizable now as trees and undergrowth. Beyond the forest, I could finally see what I hadn’t been able to see before. A hill, rising like a backdrop above the tree line, and on the crest of the gentle slope, a city. A city with stone walls. Peeking over the edge of the walls were the tops of the buildings. Architecture certainly wasn’t my specialty, but what I glimpsed resembled ancient Greece or Rome.

  Atlantis?

  My mind whirled, trying desperately to accept this twist.

  Atlantis. Shapeshifters. Portals. Magic stones. Magical fire. How the crap did this happen?

  I looked down at the inanimate bronze man beside me. I didn’t know if he could hear, but I spoke to him, anyway.

  “Carter,” I said. “I have to go find you some help. The visitor—shifter—whatever it was—told me to find help in the city, so I have to go there. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll try to hurry. Please hang on till I get back. Please…”

  My throat tightened, choking off words. The idea of Carter dying alone while I was gone was horrific. The idea of being in this strange place without him was terrible too.

  “Just—just hang on till I get back,” I pleaded.

  Bending, I pressed a kiss to his cold cheek before I got back on my feet. My gaze lighted on the jug, the box the visitor had left. What had he told me? That there was strength there for me? Cautiously, I picked up the jug, sniffed at it. I couldn’t discern any particular smell, but I could hear the liquid sloshing around. Did I dare?

  I couldn’t see that I had a choice. I was hungry, chilled, and thirsty. I h
ad no idea if the water framing the beach was drinkable. And if my visitor had wanted to hurt me, he could’ve killed me outright instead of leaving poisoned food.

  That decided it. I tipped the jug back and drank. The fluid flowed down my throat like liquid velvet: smooth, warming, soft. It tasted like wine. It warmed me within and without, cleared my head, invigorated me. Since that had gone well I decided to check the contents of the box next. I lifted the lid. Inside was a loaf of bread. I tore off a piece and held it to my face, sniffed it and gingerly licked the edge to taste it before popping it in my mouth.

  It was mild, sweet. Familiar. Like honey.

  A growing awareness, an inkling of what was going on permeated my consciousness.

  Many of these elements were vaguely familiar. Could it be my strange visitor hadn’t been a shifter at all? Could it have been…

  No.

  I shook my head.

  It couldn’t have been.

  But what if it was? my mind protested. What if—what if it was an angel? Is that even possible?

  Honestly, that idea defied belief even more than shapeshifters, portals, and portals to ancient worlds. The notion that an angelic being had been sent to minister to me, to help me. That I’d truly had a supernatural visitor. Who was I? I wasn’t anybody. Why would I merit treatment like that?

  It’s probably not you, I reasoned. It’s probably because you’re helping Carter and you’re the only help he has. The creature—angel—shifter—whatever it was—kept calling Carter the Repairer of the Breach and intimating that he had an important job to do. Maybe your job is to help him with his.

  Whatever the case, special callings and manna and heavenly beings aside, I had to move and act. I couldn’t sit on the beach any longer waiting for further assistance. I’d been told my help was coming from the hills. On the hill was a city. I forced myself to walk away, leaving the box and jug beside the Talos’ hand, in case he awakened and needed it.

  I was weaponless and basically defenseless as I fought my way through the forest again. Also, my feet, ankles, and calves were sliced and bleeding, but my heart felt lighter with hope. I had no clue what I was getting myself into; I had no clue what I would do when I actually reached the city, but I knew I would somehow find what Carter and I both needed.

  When I finally broke through on the opposite side of the forest, I was gazing at the hillslope. A steep set of stairs crawled up one side, leading to a set of gates. On the other, a paved road switched backed and forth. Allowing, I supposed, for animals and wheeled vehicles, whereas the stone steps must have been intended for foot traffic. Since the steps would get me there faster I took them and started climbing.

  As I climbed, so did my anxiety, replacing the hope. I knew help was supposed to be here, but what if danger was, as well? Danger like more shapeshifters? Or people who would wield magic, throw it around in sizzling balls that burst on impact like in movies? Really, what was I going to do if the people—or creatures—here weren’t friendly? I didn’t have a gun. I wasn’t exactly trained in hand-to-hand combat. I didn’t even have a knife.

  It’ll be okay, I reassured myself, my breath shortening with the steepness and length of the climb. It’s going to be okay. The angel said it would.

  What if it wasn’t an angel, though? What if it was a shapeshifter deceiving me, sending me into danger?

  Oh my goodness…

  I stopped, pivoting on the step, to look back the way I’d come. Below me stretched the forest. Beyond that, I could see a shining ribbon of water. I couldn’t see the beach or Carter at all. Dread filled me.

  What if I’d played right into their hands? What if they wanted Carter alone, helpless, defenseless? And I’d taken the bait and left him there? Should I go back?

  I’d actually half-turned to retrace my steps, when the opposing arguments hit.

  You’re being an idiot. If someone wanted to get at Carter, you’re not much of a hindrance. They’d have just killed or kidnapped you first. Carter’s fine. Well, not fine, but I doubt somebody tricked you and sent you away so they could have access to him. It’s not logical. It’s more logical that this is playing out exactly as the visitor said. He strengthened you and is sending you to find help for Carter.

  Why didn’t he help Carter himself, though? If he really is an angel?

  Frustrated, I sighed, shoving my disheveled hair out of my face.

  “Who knows why?” I snapped, speaking aloud. “Maybe Carter needs the kind of help he can’t give, and maybe it wasn’t an angel anyway. You don’t have any choice, Ellie. Quit trying to backtrack. You sent him here. You made the decision to follow him. Now you’ve got to find out where here is, and you’ve got to help him like he was willing to die for you.”

  That, finally, quieted the arguments. No matter if I was walking into a trap; Carter had willingly walked into a trap for me. He’d willingly killed himself—or tried to—for me. I owed it to him to see where this led in an effort to save his life.

  Chapter Four

  My decision sealed, I finished the ascent. As I got closer to the towering city walls, finally passing from the weak sunlight into their shadow, I noticed that I didn’t hear any noises like I might have expected to hear from a hustling, bustling city of this size. I didn’t smell any scents of food or humans or life. The only signs of anything living were the black birds wheeling above on the updrafts. That sent a curdling of dread through my stomach.

  I shaded my eyes with my hand, tracing their patterns.

  Are those buzzards?

  I sure hoped not. Buzzards—vultures—most likely meant death. I didn’t want to walk into a city full of dead people.

  On the other hand, I didn’t smell death, like I didn’t smell life. Somewhat encouraged, I pressed on until I was at the gates. They were massive, more than twice as tall as me. Their blue paint had faded over time, and was peeling and chipping away. Nobody had touched them up in years. They were cracked open enough that I was able to wriggle through without much effort.

  I was inside the city.

  My initial thought was, Wow. I’ve gone back in time.

  Indeed, standing there inside the walls was like having stepped back into time or having meandered into a colossal, historically accurate movie set. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Stone houses rose from the ground, stone streets winding their way between them. Colorful awnings shivered in the slight breeze, shading nothing. Empty carts squatted, carts meant to be pushed by humans or drawn by animals. Before me spread an entire city, but a city devoid of occupants. I did see a mouse scuttle out from under a nearby barrel and race towards a new hidey-hole. A soft crash made me start and gasp, but my nerves calmed when I saw it was simply a stray cat who’d been perched on a windowsill and jumped off, taking the clay flower pot with him.

  This is confusing.

  There weren’t any people that I could see, and no domesticated animals, but there were the birds soaring overhead, the mouse, and the feral cat. So there was life, if not the kind of life I’d expected.

  Where’s the help?

  Doubt created fissures in my earlier confidence. How was I supposed to get assistance for Carter in an empty city? What had happened to the people here?

  Summoning up what courage remained after last night and today, I approached the nearest buildings to peek inside. I spied a rough wooden table and stools. Dishes on the table. A woven basket overflowing with clothing, as if someone had been intending to fold laundry or possibly catch up on mending. All of the signs of life where there, except for the people themselves. I moved on to the next building—a shop of some sort. Inside, the plank shelves were lined with all kinds of things for sale, some whose purpose I could guess at and some that weren’t familiar at all. There was what I assumed to be a counter, for the store owner to complete purchases, but no proprietor. No customers.

  I ventured inside another couple of buildings. No thick layers of dust lined shelves. The food inside cabinets, baskets, and jars was fresh. I
found a jug of water and cautiously sampled it. Not brackish or stale. As my courage grew and I ventured further, I found a home with a barn out back that looked big enough to house a couple of animals. Judging by the crude equipment laying around, I supposed someone had owned a few cows. Inside some jugs, I found milk, which I smelled first and then cautiously tasted. Also fresh.

  The puzzle surrounding this world and city grew. I came out of a house into the daylight and stood there, hands on hips, scanning the scene, trying to figure it out. I might’ve guessed an invading army had threatened, sending everyone fleeing to the hills, but I would’ve expected signs of chaos if that were the case. Furniture knocked over, food spilled, belongings hastily gathered up. There was nothing like that.

  “Okay.” I blew out a breath. “Doesn’t seem to be anything dangerous here. That’s good. On the other hand, doesn’t seem to be anything that can help Carter, either. But the angel, the visitor, said help was in the hills. This city is on a hill. Is the help in the city or is the help in the hills themselves? Where do I search next?”

  Discouraged, I gave up on the idea of further exploring the city. It seemed so vast that I was afraid I could search for days in and out of houses and shops for the mysterious “help” I was supposed to find and never locate it.

  “Wish my visitor had been a little less vague,” I grumbled.

  Before leaving, I did help myself to some women’s clothing and shoes that I found in a good-sized shop. The shoes were more like sturdy sandals, and the dress was a simple, sleeveless sheath that went over my head and was belted at the waist. I had no idea if I was draping it right; it seemed kind of bunchy. However, fashion was the last thing on my mind at this point. Nobody was around to see or care. I just needed something more practical than my ruined evening gown.

  Thinking along those lines, I secured a couple of wraps from the shelves in case it got chilly at night, found a bag, and stuffed them inside. I went further still, taking some food items. I wondered if I should take some clothes for Carter, if he were ever to wake up and shift back into his human form. The clothes were uncomfortably close to what I’d seen in movies of ancient Greece, which reinforced my theory about Atlantis. I couldn’t see Carter running around in a skimpy tunic or kilt, but I grabbed one anyway, figuring at the least he could use it as a shirt.