by Jim Stein
A pile of rubble rose off to my left. Squat brown tents ringed the mound a respectful distance from the bronze door. Flaps fluttered in the cool breeze, but the place felt deserted. Down between the tents, trails led off into the city. They’d left in tight ranks, which made it difficult to estimate how many may have passed from the gateway into town. Lucky for me the Grims dedicated all their resources, but Shawn and Trinity might be dealing with more than they bargained for.
I climbed out and scrambled up the slope as quietly as I could manage. The gleaming doorway crowned the summit of rubble, melding seamlessly into the weathered brickwork of the two adjacent buildings. My excitement vanished when I realized it was closed tight.
The face of the guardian was subtle but recognizable in the surface. The riveted band running along the bottom was smooth and cool under my hand, but the rest of the surface felt like rough granite. No spark of awareness lit the eye-like swirls hanging out of reach just beneath the upper band. I leaned into the door with my shoulder. It didn’t budge.
Using magic was tempting. I could soften the stone around the jamb without touching the guardian with elemental force. Unlike the stonework, these bricks were old, tired, and more than ready to give way. Coarse grit sluffed off under my fingers. The spell would have to be carefully built and brace the wall so it didn’t collapse.
Wind whipped my hair and drew muted fluttering from the tents as I considered. Stone scraped brittle and high like footsteps through broken clay pots. I put my back to the wall and called Fire. The man climbing the slope froze.
“Manfred? What chewed you up and spit you out?”
His leather coat was a mass of scuffs and scrapes, dirt smeared his haggard face, and he looked to have shampooed with sawdust. Even his jeans were frayed at the cuff like he’d crawled over barbed wire.
“You don’t want to know.”
He made the top and stopped with hands on knees to catch his breath. I dropped my arm at his sideways glance.
“I was going to work on the bricks, not the door.”
“Better than last time, but won’t do any good. Through is the only way to get to where that door leads.” He straightened and rubbed at his shoulder as his accusatory glare shifted to the door.
“You’ve already been inside.” I was sure of it. Magic coursed back to my fingertips. “Are my friends in there?”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. A lot of people’s friends are in there.”
Manfred sighed and shook his head as if coming to a decision that didn’t sit well. He shoved a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a big brass key.
“You stole that from Dan!”
“We’ve got to be quick.” Manfred held up a finger in warning. “In and out, no side trips. You do not want to stir up trouble on the other side.”
“Sure thing.”
Although pulling prisoners away from the Grims might be the definition of trouble. I stepped back but kept a close eye on him. The last time I’d dropped my guard, Manfred handed me over before I knew what was happening. I wasn’t ready to be used again, and he clearly wasn’t going in on my account.
“What are you after in there?”
“Just a little unfinished business. Now shut up and let me do this.”
He spoke a short phrase of gibberish and touched the key to the metal surface. Quiet power flowed from key to portal. The door sucked down the energy like a grounded spell draining away.
“Maash,” Manfred commanded.
The door swung open with the grinding of tectonic plates. There was no sound, only the impression of the bones of the earth moving to accommodate the key. The vibrations stopped, leaving a space just wide enough to enter. Greenish light spilled from beyond.
28. Doors Work Both Ways
I FOLLOWED Manfred through the door to a city nothing like Milwaukee, Philadelphia, or any of the places we’d visited on tour. Clouds filled the sky in purple and gray layers. Though eerie, the green cast to the light was likely just a reflection from the leafy vines that climbed the walls of the place.
We stepped onto a stone dais etched with swirling patterns and arrowheads at the cardinal points. Springy moss cascaded down the hill to a maze of block walls and buildings. Overgrown towns were nothing new, but the stonework here was akin to Mayan or Aztec construction. Walls rose high, merging with rock ledges and buildings. Most of the latter were squared off, though I saw a few pyramid and tower shapes in the distance. The vista on either side crossed a mile or so of low jungle before another walled city rose up. The air smelled of wet stone and pungent sulfide.
“Where the hell are we, South America?”
“Or someplace similar,” Manfred said. “It’s getting dark. We have to move.”
He shuffled downhill toward the nearest wall. I followed, trying to memorize our location. The platform sat just to the right of a line from what looked to be a large Banyan tree to a distant city. The door and guardian were not visible from this side. Without Manfred and key, there’d be no way to activate the portal.
The city walls were double thick. We ducked into the space between just as a group of little people stepped into view. I caught a glimpse of black eyes and angular faces, markedly different from the forest folks’ green eyes and pleasant features. The group loped past, heading for the tree line.
We skirted the perimeter and emerged at a gate along the east side. There were no doors to block the roadways flowing into the city. Perhaps they had rotted away. If so, it was so long ago no evidence remained. In spite of the ancient architecture, the place didn’t feel deserted. If anything, it buzzed with a kind of living energy. Rather than the lively feel of a concert crowd or gathering back home, this was a negative force throbbing from the interior.
“That way.” Manfred pointed around the corner. “Your Brights are chained up in a storage area.”
Of course he pointed directly toward the source of the dark energy. Manfred’s lips compressed into a tight line as he drew a long knife from the sheath on his belt.
“You have been here before.”
“Earlier today.” He nodded and crept forward, hugging the building to our right. “Keep your eyes open. These dwarves are stronger than they look, and they blend in way too well. We’re lucky something drew most of them away.”
Manfred paused at the next corner. I put a restraining hand on his shoulder, but let go when he winced.
“Why help?”
“It’s complicated.” He looked uncomfortable, but I couldn’t let it go.
“Let’s cut through the bull. You’re connected with the Grims. It’s full-on war out there! Why should I trust you to do anything except get me captured or killed? Why help the Brights?”
“We don’t have time for this.” He huffed out a breath when I didn’t back down. “I only hired on to count them. Things are out of control. The…company is out of control.”
“Double M Records?” He had been about to say something else in place of “company.”
“There are factions I don’t want anything to do with. The missing people, the deaths—it’s all them. I’ve had enough. I like being on the road with the band and their wacky entourage. They don’t deserve this kind of treatment. I know what it’s like to be a half-breed.”
There was bitter pain in his voice, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the necessity of explaining himself, his decision to help, or dealing with his own past. If he knew about Koko and the Brights, then the Grims knew too. Manfred’s falling out with his superiors didn’t automatically put him on our side. It only raised more questions, but time was short.
“Stay where I can see you.” I slid my own weapon out and thumbed the spring to release my baton. “If you’re playing me…”
I let the threat trail off and followed the road manager deeper. The ancient city was not large by modern standards, but it clung to the hillside forming a dense collection of levels connected by steps cut in the stone. My heart pounded as we turned off an except
ionally steep stairway onto a dirt terrace.
Vines and shrubs seemed perfectly adapted to root in the walls and climb the buildings, but the ground held little in the way of vegetation aside from the mossy grass. The packed earth spoke of much use and traffic, another testament this place was neither abandoned nor lost like the jungle ruins it resembled.
“Where now—”
Manfred cut me off with a wave and darted into the alcove on our left. The sound of scuffling feet was followed by a wet pop-slap. He lowered a dwarf to the ground. Blood oozed from the knife sticking out of its chest.
“Crap! Did you have to kill him?” I tasted bile.
“You don’t want the alarm sounded. The Teihiihan will swarm like bees, and we’ll both be done for.”
He hauled the body back into the shadows. Up close it looked even more alien, with pointed teeth and talon-like nails. Red and black war paint striped its cheeks and forehead under a brown mat of hair. Manfred acted like it was just another business transaction, wiping his blade clean and peering down the face of the building. He examined the high windows and pointed to the single doorway.
“In there. Keep your eyes open.”
I followed, trying to rationalize the fact I’d just witnessed cold-blooded murder. This was war. Could I honestly expect to rescue Pina and the others without casualties?
Shadows flanked either side of the entrance, but we didn’t meet any more guards. Three steps led down to a sand-covered floor. Columns rose from a stone platform along the wall. The Brights were chained to rings set in the walkway at the far end of the room. I spotted Cindy’s long black hair—though her normally perky face was haggard and severe like her mother’s.
“We’re here to get you out.” I crossed to inspect their restraints.
The dull-gold chains were a bronze composite much lighter than iron. A shackle and chain of the material tethered everyone’s right ankle to a ring hammered in the stone. Many more rings sat empty, room for all the Brights. I didn’t sense any magic, but the shackles had no lock.
Casual inspection showed Cindy with her tattered clothes and haunted look had been here the longest. Others were less beaten down. The three huddled at the end of the chain looked the freshest, so would be the group that disappeared just last night. The nine missing Brights were here, but not Pina. One thing at a time.
I turned to Manfred and mentally kicked myself for letting him get behind me.
“I’m going to use Earth on the chains.”
Manfred simply nodded, so I sent a sliver of the element coursing into their bonds, thinning one shackle after another. As each parted, its prisoner tore the binding off. Except Cindy. She simply stared at her foot. I gently pried the manacle free and helped her stand.
“Will you get them out?” If my trust in the road manager was misplaced, I was sending these people to die.
“A group this size is going to draw attention.” Manfred shook his head, hefted his knife, and turned to the door. “I’ll scout ahead. You bring up the rear. Don’t hesitate; the Teihiihan certainly won’t.”
“No.”
He turned back, incredulous. “No?”
“Pina is here somewhere. I’ve got to find her.”
“Get these people to safety first. Then you can look for her.” He stared toward the center of the city and the source of the dark pulsing power.
“You’re scared.” I scowled, but he avoided my gaze and looked at the sandy floor.
“No shit! Your friend’s a forest sprite. She’s a goddamn power source. He’ll have her close at hand, and we don’t stand a chance against what’s in the heart of this place.”
“Ed?” Cindy was the first captive to utter a word.
She looked to me, scared and trembling. I grew uncomfortable as all eyes turned my way. The Brights were terrified. There was no telling what they’d already been through. But I wouldn’t get another chance. How could I live with myself if I sacrificed Pina? How could any of us?
“I’ll show you,” Manfred said in disgust.
The others stayed put, much safer than sneaking through the streets in a gaggle. Manfred and I followed that dark pressure as though swimming upstream. My unease grew the closer we got to the source. I found myself skirting the far edge of the street and lagging behind.
No more; no closer. I tried to call Manfred to a halt, but my throat was too dry. Get the Brights out; come back later. The awful pressure slid to my right and fell behind. I hurried forward, away from the corruption. The air tasted sweeter; the dim light grew brighter.
My nose crunched into something hard, the back of Manfred’s head.
“Pay attention,” he said through clenched teeth. “She’s down there.”
He’d stopped at stairs leading to an open square. Dozens of Teihiihan dwarves milled about a stone cottage. But the structure lacked its front wall and a roof, leaving its interior open to the elements. The dwarves kept back from the small building’s single room. Pina hung from chains halfway up the back wall. Her feet dangled above the ground, and her pretty blue dress hung in tatters. A thin silver chain ran from each ankle out to the ornate floor.
Magic swirled within the square. It coursed along the chains binding Pina and ran down to disappear into the strangely marked stones. I sank to my knees, palms flat on the damp stone. To do this to such a beautiful, pure creature was unthinkable.
Drums beat and synthesizers danced as throbbing music rose unbidden.
Pina’s hair hung in a filthy blond cascade from her slumped head, but an occasional twitch told me she lived. That and the power draining down those silver chains, and into some arcane battery. Using her gentle spirit, her—
“Stop it!” Manfred grabbed my shoulders and tried to wrench my hands from the stone.
The ground rumbled with the beat of Shinedown’s “State of My Head.” Dwarves scattered as my power snaked through the rock. The runes in the stone glowed as they greedily devoured her essence, taking what they had no right to—stealing another’s life. My wave of magic broke against those abominations, rocking the square with a thunderous lurch.
Dwarves smashed down as the ground kicked out from under them. I raced to Pina. The symbols flared angry and red. They sputtered at my attack, choking on their own gluttony but refusing to relinquish their feast. The eye of that dreadful presence swung toward the disturbance and approached—slow and uncertain at first, then faster.
I pried at the chains. They resisted, fought back, searing my hands. The Teihiihan picked themselves up. Feral eyes and waving spears turned on me, but the dwarves wouldn’t step onto the stone. I flowed more energy into her bonds, felt the stone weaken. Just a few more seconds. Suddenly I was falling, flailing, and staring up at the clouds overhead. Manfred’s shoulder dug painfully into my side.
“Put me down!”
Earth magic snapped and sparked, roots torn from the ground when Manfred hoisted me over his shoulder. Power lashed out, shattering stones to either side as he carried me away from the dwarves and Pina. Son of a bitch!
I slammed my right hand against the wall. Skin tore from my palm. Rather than shunt the spell to ground I pushed it into the rock, raining debris down in our wake. Just as the spell winked out, the shoulder beneath me disappeared. The breath whooshed from my lungs as I slammed onto the ground. I glared up at Manfred. He wasn’t even breathing hard.
“You idiot! They’re coming. It’s coming!”
“The Brights.” I didn’t have the time or energy to hold onto my outrage.
“Move your ass.”
He dashed along the walkway to our left. I scrambled to my feet and followed. Back at the storage room the Brights were ready. Those better off helped the weaker ones like Cindy. Manfred led the procession; I brought up the rear. Feet slapped on stone behind us. I risked a look back, expecting to see angry faces closing in. The dwarves were still a ways off, but there were more—many more.
The dark presence angled in from the right, trying to cut us off. We shot
through the southern gate and stumbled up the slope. The dais was just visible in the fading light. A dark shaggy shadow lumbered up the slope to our right. Manfred thrust the key forward and spoke the incantation to open our exit, but it was taking too long.
I rekindled my Earth spell and loosened the footing on the opposing slope as my shoes slapped onto the stone platform. The creature coming at us staggered. The dark hulk stood at least fifteen feet tall with a head as wide as its shoulders. Unable or unwilling to step onto the soft ground, the thing shambled sideway in an awkward stiff-legged shuffle around the bad ground. The outline of a snout showed against the clouds when it turned.
The air shimmered as the door materialized. But the platform canted. The doorway wrenched left and right, tearing itself from the dais. Manfred dragged the lead Brights through. I threw another frantic lance of power behind us and pushed at those in the rear.
“Go, go, go!”
A roar ripped from the beast. Foul energy slammed into my back and propelled me through the swaying door. Dark and fetid power raked my legs, but I tumbled down the mound of debris and bowled over two of the others on my way to the street.
“Everyone’s through.” Manfred grabbed my arm and hoisted me to my feet.
I took quick stock of my abrasions and the people, nine Brights. Yes, everyone was out—except Pina. Manfred held the key out, forcing the metal door to grind closed. His arm shook with effort. Power continued to flow from the key after the door was shut.
Loose stones and dust vibrated along the slope. The doorway continued to twist free of its anchors and pull blocks from the adjacent buildings. It shimmered from bronze to gray-brown granite. The entire hill vibrated and shifted as the guardian reverted to its natural form. We scurried back, Manfred still intent on his spell.
The Guardian ripped away from the buildings and…rose. The mound of debris swelled and ascended with it, ten feet, twenty feet. I had thought the doorway itself was the elemental, but the years of rubble sluffed away as it stood, revealing the entire hillside to be the guardian.
