‘This is still about my friend,’ Asher mumbled. ‘If he’s involved in why this is happening, I have to know. So I can find him and kill him myself.’
Sara recoiled. ‘It’s a mite intense, but we can work with that.’
They stood in what looked like a garrison, though most of it had been left empty, complete with the polish of a room that had been assigned but never used. A small pile of files had been left on the corner of a small calligraphy desk. The other door in the room was a simple wooden thing, though the empty key-hook next to it told him that it wouldn’t be easily opened.
A simple parchment had been left on the top of the pile, which Asher picked up and immediately wished he hadn’t. The name Captain Chaeverau had been crossed out along the top. Beneath it, in a blotchy scrawl of ink, read; these are the notes from Fanmaryh. Meant to be sent to King. Keep in safe space.
The first folder opened to more of the same documents that he’d found, penned in neat, fine writing, featuring more numbers and data that he couldn’t name without context. Sitting on top though, was a small leather bound journal, bent and warped and stained. Asher worked the strings holding it closed, until yellowed parchment fell open across the desk. The worn strings binding it together were frayed, and many of them were a breath away from falling completely loose. This handwriting was messier, loopy and flicking at the edges in a way that was hauntingly familiar. The same loops had been practised over and over at Beau Jordeaux.
[Date]
First researchers arrived today. Spent the entire day stopping fights with them and the historians. Each of them have collected all information on Aedeon and the war that formed Tarinye. Suggested the Dalvany archives also be collected.
[Date]
Possibility of supernatural – doubtful. Historians claim Telkite knowledge could lead to further understanding. Approved notion to move main base to Fanmaryh.
[Date]
First of strange encounters. Telkite locals claim the sleeping ones will destroy us if we go into the caves. Researchers are worried about Grey Lung. Precautions need to be made. Found one of our survey tents marked with clay in symbols. Same symbols mark Tekk ruins on the shore. The Tekks know something.
PN: Find myself wondering about Ash. Will pen a letter later.
Asher’s stomach churned. He’d told Navarre many times over that he hated being called “Ash.” The man had always been the only one to call Asher that, but he’d stopped years ago. This was Navarre’s journal.
Penn circled the room, running his hands along the walls as though looking for a secret hook or latch. He stopped at the door, going still for a moment before pressing his hands flat against the wood. Asher pressed the journal protectively into his chest as the man muttered something under his breath.
The walls sagged. Turning into a soft clay substance, the stone warped and melted down towards the ground, the roof dropping into a concave bowl fast enough to make both Asher and Sara jump. Penn threw his hand out, and the motion stopped, freezing in place. The roof now hung low enough that Asher could reach up and place his palm flat against it.
‘What was that?’ he demanded.
‘This is Nakati,’ Penn said. ‘But not. The hole in the Gate is Nakati, not Le Torkani. Ir’s not supposed to… it’s not possible.’
‘I’ve never heard about a Gate into Nakati,’ Sara said. ‘Do you mean that the breach between worlds is between yours and ours instead of ours and Le Torkani?’
Penn nodded.
‘That’s not possible,’ Sara said. ‘Are you sure?’
Penn hissed at her, then grabbed at the air above his head, as though expecting something to be there. He let out a frustrated growl. ‘It’s dead. It’s all dead. Dead and rotted and gone.’
‘Is that how the Fienta got through, do you think?’ Asher asked. ‘If there was a hole in both worlds—’
‘It’s not possible!’ Penn snapped.
‘Easy, sweetie,’ Sara said.
Asher turned back to the journal. If this is what the bird – what Hadley – had meant for them to find, then there had to be something in here.
[Date]
Caught a tresspasser trying to destroy researcher notes. When held, burned through ropes, but no ash left behind. The substance on the ropes not of this world. Further information needs to be collected.
[Date]
Strange dust substance reacts to different stimuli. Researchers very excited. Creature #8 injured gravely by untainted stuff. Further information needed.
‘Creature eight?’ Asher read the words aloud, and Sara made for the open folder, flicking through it and producing one of the parchments. She scanned across it.
‘I’ve seen something like this before,’ she said. ‘Sometimes we get them with animals. To know if they’re healthy or need any special care, but I don’t know what this is supposed to be.’
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Asher flicked further through the journal. He could almost read the words in Navarre’s voice, could hear it in his head, broken apart by those echoing calls for help.
[Date]
First full test unsuccessful. Creature #15 tore the arm from a historian. Another fell down a gap and returned with white hair. Neither made it through the night.
The Lords are pulling support. On King’s request, I have stated we move forward.
[Date]
Tremboui is overrun with birds. All attempts to sabotage are sent to him due to law of execution, so we believe they are cursing before they hang. Reports talk of a red haired woman. Attempts to arrest her with the others are proving futile.
Asher didn’t realise Sara was reading the same page next to him until she gasped. All he could picture was the many bodies that had been hanging outside of Dalvany the day he arrived. Maybe some of them had been witches after all, protesting the research on what Asher suspected was the Gate. The thought made him want to curl up and scream. They were experimenting on the dust and the Gate. The final page was a long entry, hasty and messier.
[Date]
The witch – Hadley Derrian – has been tracked down. Delana almost shot her dead, but missed. The shrapnel has gravely injured her. She has been tracked to the outpost on the edge of town. If she seeks to free the creatures we have captured and contained, she will be stopped tonight.
Finally, a breakthrough!
The witch cast real magic, and now I have seen it with my own eyes, I know that everything we’ve done to stop these creatures and contain any threat has been worth it. Many aspects are invisible to us, but that only shows that our inconsistent research has been for a reason. The witch had with her a strange portal, a portal that may lead us into the world of these demons. If we can understand it, we will destroy them before they destroy us. For the first time since this started, I finally believe we have a chance.
[Date]
The King has sent through new orders. More people need to be hired on. Lord Mag wants all of it to stay behind closed doors. I agree. The truth of witches and demons will only cause a panic, and we still have the element of surprise for killing these bastards. My curiosity is split however, I need to know how the witches summon that dust that lets them break the world as I saw in Dalvany that night. It can be turned against them, and might be the only weapon we have.
The rest of the journal was blank.
‘Fuck,’ Asher said. It didn’t feel like a strong enough word. ‘Fuck.’
He was going to kill Navarre. He wanted to see him again just to rattle him until his teeth fell out.
Penn pressed his hands against the door again, this time giving it the slightest push. It fell forward with a heavy thud that shook the floor. Shards of stone rained down with it, the warped frame crumbling. Asher made to step through when Sara took the journal. She read over the pages with a ghostly expression.
‘Is this why so many witches have been hung lately?’ her voice was a whisper. ‘They were trying to stop this. They were… blessed spirits, they were tearing apart the Gate!’
‘I know,’ Asher mumbled. The weight of it left a horrible, hollow feeling in his chest. ‘There’s a way to fix it, right? Can we fix this?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sara whispered. ‘I… I thought maybe the Gate was opening, the same as it did hundreds of years ago, but… sleeping three, are they all dead?’
‘The witches?’ Asher asked. ‘I wouldn’t know. I don’t… I don’t know what to do with this.’ If this is what Hadley knew, he could see why she was terrified. ‘She was trying to close the Gate, wasn’t she? She knew these idiots had punched a hole in it, and she tried to close it.’
‘I don’t think it can be,’ Sara mumbled. ‘If it’s only just the two of us. Even if we somehow convinced Iain to go back to practising, it still might not be enough. By the three, I don’t know how we could fix this.’
Asher forced a deep breath. There had to be a way. If there were holes, then maybe there was a way to get in and get people out, and maybe other witches like Hadley could help them. ‘We need to know how serious this is first,’ he said. ‘We… where’s Penn?’
Asher rushed over to the opening the man had made with the door, and came face to face with a Fienta.
Sara screamed, the sound cutting off as Asher slapped his hand over her mouth, holding firm. He pressed his other hand to his own mouth, aware of his breath echoing loudly through the room. Sara’s eyes were wide, and as he pulled his hand away, she remained frozen as though he still held her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Asher said. ‘We’re still trying to hide.’
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ Sara’s voice escaped in a breath. ‘Is that what they look like?’
‘Haven’t you seen one before?’
Sara shook her head, and Asher turned back to the monster in question. It took the form of a wooden doll, the kind that dressmakers used to measure their works. All other humanoid parts that were usually missing were made of animal bones, crushed and broken and snapped to create a warped, elongated shape with extra limbs and a neck as long as its torso. It had no eyes, no features asides from the gaps between rat skulls and cat spines, but it didn’t seem interested in them.
Asher stepped toward it, then recoiled when he noticed the thick iron bars between them. He’d been too focused on the Fienta to notice them. The thing was in a cell, jerking back and forth erratically, flicking those long limbs in random directions as though trying to shake something free. Small shards of bone littered the floor at its feet.
The Fienta took no interest in them as it thrashed back and forth, but as Asher drew closer, a wave of dizziness washed over him, a muffled, muted weight that almost knocked him down. Sara staggered into the doorway, shaking her head frantically.
‘Penn?’ Asher hissed the word, and the Fienta twisted around to look at him, but quickly went back to its own thrashing. He glanced down the long hall that stretched out on either side, but there were only more cells, each of them with a lock so large and solid not even the heat of the sun would destroy it. The next cell was empty, but the stone walls were concave as though something had been thrown against them with insane force.
The next Fienta was large and flat, more of a sentient rug than any living thing Asher had ever seen. Wooden boards had been nailed along the bottom of the cell, and the creature itself had dozens of little arms wriggling up towards the roof. Watching them for too long made Asher’s eyes ache, so he moved on.
The hall bent, curving around in a subtle ring, and Penn appeared by one of the cells, his head pressed against the bar, his eyes shut and his knuckles white against the iron. The cell in question was empty, but either side held another Fienta, each of them leaning against the corner and watching him intently.
‘Are you alright?’ Asher asked.
Penn grabbed hold of his arm, squeezing tight enough to break skin. The Fienta swiped at him, but Asher pulled the man away from the bars.
‘It’s all wrong,’ Penn hissed. ‘It’s human and Nakati and Le Torkani and it’s wrong. Can’t put all of these together. It’s all wrong.’
‘Easy.’ Asher tried to keep his voice even, holding Penn’s hands tight. ‘This is where the hole in the Gate is, isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s so much worse.’ Sara’s voice was small. ‘Asher, they punched holes in the Gate, and into Nakati, just to learn how they work. I’ve never heard of that happening. I’ve never heard of anyone who would want to do something like that.’
‘They don’t know what they’re doing,’ Asher mumbled. Why would they, when any witch they learned about was executed? Still, it filled him with a kind of dread he’d never felt before, the primal kind of fear that didn’t come from a place or event or person. It was something ancient and faded, wired into blood that had long since moved on from its original design.
Nakati. Le Torkani. Dalvany. All merging into one.
‘What can we do?’ his voice was a whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ Sara said. ‘Even if the Gate was just weakening like it does sometimes, we couldn’t… If this doesn’t stop I… I don’t know.’
‘They need to stop,’ Penn growled. His weight pulled against Asher’s grip, and Asher couldn’t tell if he was trying to ease away, or about to fall over.
Asher swallowed. He was out of his depth; any plan he could think of scattered at the weight of it. ‘Then we keep going,’ he said. ‘There has to be something we can use.’
‘It hurts to be here,’ Penn whispered.
Asher squeezed his hands harder. ‘Can you focus on me?’ he asked. ‘If that helps.’
Penn shook his head, but didn’t let go of Asher’s arm.