Gates of Delicia (The Gatekeeper Trilogy Book 3)

DEDICATION

Once again, this book is dedicated to the wife and kids who put up with this craziness I call writing. Their love, support, and encouragement are my single driving force. I love you all.

CONTENTS

DEDICATION

CONTENTS

MAP OF ALISUNDI

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

1 DIRTY COWS AND STALE MINT

2 MONOTONY

3 SHADOWS OF THE PAST

4 BLASTS FROM THE PAST

5 DRAWN IN

6 GATEWAY

PART TWO

7 STRANG GATEWAYS

8 BUGS IN A VACUUM

9 DARK. COLD. DEAD.

10 SURVIVORS

11 ELDER NARIT

12 THE PLAN

13 ONE LAST TATTOO

14 THEY’RE COMING

15 THE ROOSRATH

16 A PLANET DIVIDED

17 DEUS EX MACHINA

18 DREAMS

19 AN OLD FRIEND (OF SORTS)

20 IN CLUTCHES

21 LORTMORE

22 AN OLD FRIEND (DEFINITELY)

23 FIGHT

PART THREE

24 STORM WALKERS

25 JAE?

26 THE UNDERGROUND

27 WE STOOD TOGETHER

28 BAIT

29 BETRAYAL

30 THE DUEL

31 DEATH AT THE GATES OF DELCIA

32 DEATH FROM ABOVE

33 WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING

34 THE ASHLINGS

35 DEATH FROM THE GROUND

36 THE ATLANTEANS

IN THE END

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MAP OF ALISUNDI

PROLOGUE

It’s dangerous and reckless." Grace Porter folded her arms over her chest, averting her eyes from the form on the couch.

Megan Wallner took a similar defensive position, planting her hands on her hips. It’s not your call, is it?

I could stop you, you know?

Megan shrugged a shoulder. Probably. Are you going to do that? Are you going to blast me or just punch me in the face until I realize how right you are?

Grace took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She dropped her arms to her sides, though she couldn’t chase away the tension in her shoulders. Megan had been a good friend for nearly a decade ever since tenth grade. Were they best of friends? No, but steadfast in their devotion to each other that oddly did not cross into friendship.

Megan knew who Grace was. She knew what she was and offered herself as somebody Grace could talk to when needed. The only other person who knew was her husband, Richard. Not even their five-year-old son, Gaige, knew. She wasn’t sure if he’d understand, anyway. He was so young. She’d tell him when he was older.

Megan took cues from Grace and relaxed her own stance. She even put a hand on the Gatekeeper’s shoulder. Look, you shouldn’t be worried about this right now. Tomorrow is a big day.

How am I supposed to not worry? Grace asked. She glanced at the kid fast asleep on the couch. We don’t even know…

Her words slipped away, though she wasn’t sure they were ever there. What could she say about it? Were there even words to say about the situation? She forged ahead.

That’s not your son, Megan she softly and with as much sympathy she could add to her voice. Your son is dead.

I know. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes before she forced a smile on her lips and dashed them away with the palm of her hand. But, this is a second chance. Don’t you think?

Grace didn’t know what to think. All she knew was she had a bad feeling about the whole situation.

Megan was right, though. What was Grace going to do? Push her out of the way and…what? Kill the kid? Take him away? Where?

Come on, Megan said. You can worry about it later. You have that pact thingy to go to tomorrow.

The truce, Grace murmured.

She had worked so hard on it. It was a small thing, really. A simple agreement between Delicia and the Ashlings to not kill each other on sight. They had never really liked each other, but the threats and violence between the humans and Ashlings had grown at an alarming rate lately on Alisundi. The pact was a stepping stone. A really, really tiny one, but progress nonetheless.

Grace nodded. That pact was the most important thing at the moment. Once she returned from Alisundi, she’d have to keep an eye on the kid. Brian Wallner returning from the dead seemed like a miracle, but there was more to it than what meets the eye.

***

Daresh grinned.

Grace hated that smug smile. It crawled and dug under her skin like a parasite. It made her uneasy. Bad things tended to happen when he stretched that smile across his face.

All seems in order, the man said. Don’t you agree?

Dario, leader of the Ashling clan said nothing. While intensely vocal during negotiations, he had been oddly quiet during this meeting—the most important one thus far. The one where all the months of work would come to a head and the direction of Alisundi would do a 180 and usher in a time of peace.

Although Grace still had problems reading the Ashlings with their stiff expressions, she could tell something was troubling him. She just couldn’t figure out what. Maybe it was the fact Daresh had insisted this meeting take place in private in one of his tents on the plains outside his city. All throughout the proceedings, Dario’s wife, Kystyna had been an equal partner as the Ashling clan’s representatives in negotiations, but this meeting was just Dario, Daresh, and herself. Again, at Daresh’s insistence.

The tent was sparsely furnished with nothing more than a table, three chairs, and a single lantern hanging over them. Daresh sat in one of the chairs, but Grace and Dario stood. The rest of the tent was empty and shadowed.

I really look forward to this friendship, Daresh went on when it became apparent Dario would say nothing. Who knows, maybe in the near future we can come to a trade agreement as well. Wood is so hard to come by out here. Maybe you Ashlings will even come to find more use for metals.

Dario stiffened even more if possible. He became as still as a tree without a breeze to ruffle its leaves. The Ashlings disliked metals, though a few of the younger ones had taken up bladed weapons. It was rumored Dario’s own daughter carried a knife with her now.

Really, Daresh, Grace cut in. This is just a small step. Let’s get this over with so we can enjoy a little bit of peace.

Why the hurry? he asked. I mean, sharing our wealth with each other is a great way to form a lasting alliance, don’t you think? Besides, how else would our Ashling friends be able to forge something like this without metal?

Daresh reached under the table.

Grace tensed, her hands flexing as she pulled power from the well inside her.

The man casually laid a long, unsheathed blade on the table between them. It was about a foot from hilt to tip and as black as night. It made Grace physically ill just to look at it.

Dario had an even more noticeable reaction. He stepped back from the table, the bark that covered his body ground together as he twitched. Where did you get that?

Oh, it was a gift from a friend of mine. Somebody who has as much interest in her world as I do, he waved a hand in Grace’s general direction. You see, an alliance with him is a bit more lucrative than one with a bunch of walking sticks.

Daresh— Grace began.

To be honest, I don’t need this anymore. He pointed a long finger at the paper that held the terms of peace between humans and Ashlings. He moved it toward the blade. Not when I can accomplish more with this.

Is that a threat? Dario demanded, his brown eyes staring at the blade.

No, Daresh laughed. Merely a statement of fact.

Without a single creek of warning, Dario lunged over the table for the blade. Daresh was closer and quicker. In an instant, the blade was in his hand with the tip pointing at the Ashling who had frozen.

Now, that’s no way to act in peace negotiations, he cooed.

Dario stood straight, hovering over the sitting human with impressing height. I demand you hand that abomination over this instant.

Daresh made a disgusted face. What kind of host would I be if I just gave away a gift so recently received? In front of my guest, no less.

One of those shadows in the corner moved. A figure stepped forward, staying just outside the full light of the lantern. Grace couldn’t make out much more than a black cloak stitched with runes she didn’t recognize.

What is this? she demanded.

A new partner in our discussions.

Devils, Dario spit. Demons!

The Ashling pulled something from a pouch at his side. He held a stick between his fists. He said something harsh in Ashling and broke it with a twist. A flash of purple light blinded Grace. A few seconds later, her vision cleared and the Ashling was gone.

Well, that was rude, Daresh said, rubbing his eyes. Oh well, it’s you we really wanted to…discuss matters with.

Grace stepped back as the dark figure neared. It pulled a hand out from the sleeves of its cloak and reached for her with three fingers.

She set her jaw, opened her hands at her sides, and released the power she had been holding. Bright streaks of lightning flashed, contacting the thing squarely in the chest.

She didn’t wait to find out the consequences of the attack. She spun and ran from the tent into daylight. She didn’t stop to let her eyes adjust to the light, though. Her Ashling escort was already hundreds of yards away, eating up land with their long legs.

Grace ran too. While the Ashlings angled around the dark scar that was a stinking swamp, she ran straight for it. She knew it was her only chance of escape. She’d have to risk trespassing. If she made it through, she knew of a travelway on the other side that would take her up to the gateway and home.

PART ONE

Returns

1 DIRTY COWS AND STALE MINT

The office smelled like dirty cow and stale mint. The furniture—with its cracked leather that was older than the ancient man who sat across from me—accounted for the first while a bowl of candy that was just about as old caused the second. The room was dimly lit and a thin haze of dust hung in the air, choking out the sunlight that managed to push through the grimy windows. Mostly empty bookshelves lined the walls and a chipped desk sat near the window at the far end of the room.

I flicked at a fleck of leather peeling up from the arm of the couch. I refused to lie down. That whole deal was just too cliché for me. Lay down. Relax. Tell Dr. Whatever everything you’re feeling. No thanks.

Dr. Whatever — his name was Dr. Baumgartner if that matters — waited for me to say something. He could keep waiting for all I cared. As a matter of fact, I had forgotten his question. Something about looking forward to going back to school in less than a month. I hadn’t even dignified the question with a shrug.

I didn’t look forward to it. I didn’t dread it. I didn’t anything it.

Nothing had changed since my life turned upside down. I still saw Aoife’s face as she stepped through the gateway, leading the hordes of alien invaders from Earth. I wanted to see fear in her eyes. I wanted to see some kind of indication that she regretted her decision to sacrifice herself but it just wasn’t there. What I saw as she stepped through was resignation and peace.

I still saw the dead body of my best friend of years lying in the dirt. Turned out he was one of those aliens who betrayed me. Sure, he turned face when it counted and helped us repel the invasion of his kind, but that didn’t make him any less of a heel. He had two versions of himself that alternated between his true form—a tall, tight-skinned creature with three fingers—and the awkward teenage boy I knew.

Gaige?

Yes, I said.

I, uh. Dr. Baumgartner looked confused. "Your answer to the question how do you feel about going back to school is yes?"

No, I said.

He took off his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The glasses barely contained in the wire rim were thick. I’d seen thinner wooden boards. I wondered if he’d even see me if I got up and left before he put them back on.

Look, Gaige, he started. His voice was weak and thin like he’d spent a lifetime ruining his vocal chords with cigarettes and had managed to quit just before contracting lung cancer.

I rubbed my nose. Phantom cigarette smoke lingered in my nose hairs.

I know you don’t like to talk about this—

"By this, you mean how one of my best friends turned out to be an alien sent to spy on me and another sacrificed herself to save the world? Is that the this you’re talking about? Or maybe by this you mean how my mom is a braindead vegetable?"

Now, you know the events that took place at Gate City Park are hazy at best. Nobody’s sure exactly what happened there—

Except somebody who was actually there. Like, oh I don’t know, me?

—and I know something happened to make you run away with Ms. Connelly—

Don’t you dare talk to me about her.

—but it is generally agreed that the earthquake caused the destruction at the park.

That’s not what happened, I ground out through clenched teeth.

Yes, your alien invasion. Let’s talk about that.

Let’s not. I pushed back into the sofa and crossed my arms.

You know you eventually have to let it out. The man looked to my left like he couldn’t quite get a bead on me without his glasses. Building up this fantasy in your mind—

I slammed my fist down on the sofa arm. Dust shot into the air and something cracked deep inside it. It is not a fantasy!

Yes. Dr. Baumgartner seemed taken aback. He dropped his eyes to an open folder in his lap. He flipped through a couple pages, squinted, and seemed to realize he didn’t have his glasses on. He slipped them on his nose. Yes, of course. Let’s go back to talk about school coming soon.

No, I said.

No?

No.

Okay. How is your Aunt Stacy? he asked with an awkward shift in topic.

Yes, I said.

"Your answer to how is your Aunt Stacy is yes?"

Yes, I said.

Right, time is running short, he said. How about we try to make some progress before it runs out completely, okay?

Nice try, I thought, glancing at the cheap clock on the far wall partially hidden by a shelf. We’d burned through about twenty minutes of our scheduled hour. I figured he was just as anxious for this session to be over as I was. It was certainly one of our less productive to date.

Look Mr. Buttgardner, I don’t really have anything to say to you. You don’t believe me. The police don’t believe me. Aoife’s parents don’t believe me. I’m about 95% sure Aunt Stacy doesn’t believe me. Mr. Minor—

Yes, Mr. Minor, the doctor cut in. Let’s keep Mr. Minor out of this, shall we?

Yeah, let’s keep the one person who can back up what I say out of this discussion, I snapped. Aoife’s brother, Dylan, still blamed me for what happened to her and refused to talk to me, much less back me up.

Dr. Baumgartner pursed his thin lips. They nearly disappeared under his ridiculous moustache. You know as well as I do that Mr. Minor has left town and is still wanted by police for questioning about yours and Ms. Connelly’s—

I said to not talk about her.

—disappearance.

Dr. Baumgartner glanced at the clock over his shoulder. By glance, I mean he cranked his neck as far as he could, half turning in his seat the rest of the way to be able to see the clock. It looked painful. Good.

I know you don’t want to talk about your friend—

And yet you keep bringing her up.

—but you’re going to have to open up about it. Bottling this all in isn’t healthy. It’s what you did after your parents’ accident and look where that led you. You and Ms. Connelly ran away—

We. Didn’t. Run. Away.

—and she’s missing again. Not to mention your friend is dead?

He’s not my friend.

Yes. He adjusted the thick glasses. You said. An alien spy.

You want to know what would really help me? I asked.

Please. He waved a hand at me.

Stop acting like I’m crazy, I said.

Now, Gaige. I’m not acting like—

What do you call it? I asked. You don’t believe me, do you?

This isn’t about whether I believe you or not.

It’s not? I said, throwing my hands in the air. Then what am I doing here?

To talk about how you feel—

"I feel like you should believe me because I’m not making this up!"

Of course, of course. He opened his hands out wide. But there are some things that have yet to be explained.

Don’t even mention the bod—

Like the bodies for instance. You claim there were some aliens killed in the park, correct? What happened to the bodies?

I don’t know, I hissed. They were there when I left.

You also claim some of these aliens fled the park before they were lured into your gate-thing.

Gateway, I said through my teeth.

The old man rearranged his face into a look of understanding pity. I feel like the sooner you come to realize how deluded these stories are, the better off you’ll be.

They’re not stories.

And maybe you’ll be able to actually help the police figure out what happened to Aoife.

I flinched, ripping a good inch of leather from the sofa. I stared at the piece of red cowhide until my head stopped feeling like it was about to explode.

I think we’re out of time, Mr. Buttgardener, I clipped.

Actually, it’s Dr. Baum—

Thanks, I said, standing. I looked at the strip of leather and dropped it to the floor before adding, for nothing.

I hurried out of the room, startling the receptionist who was flipping through a women’s magazine with an impossibly thin model on the cover. Oh, hey Gaige, she said, lowering the magazine. Another early break? How’d it go?

I shoved hands in my pockets and shrugged. Same as always.

That bad, huh?

I shrugged again.

Give him a chance, Gaige, she said. He may be clueless sometimes, but Mr. Buttgardener can be helpful at times if you give him a chance.

You heard that, huh?

Her full lips twitched into a smile. Sonia Moss was a junior at Gate City Community College majoring in psychology. She liked to talk to Dr. Baumgartner’s patients while they waited for their appointment and wasn’t shy about how she took this job to gain experience in the field. It turned out to be a paper pushing job, but she had to pay for college somehow. For her trouble, she earned several hours of pay for sitting around reading magazines and not even bothering to turn on the computer that just might be older than electricity.

My sessions were state sponsored and Mr. Baumgartner was the only psychiatrist willing to take the meager money the state was willing to fork over for my emotional wellbeing. I had the feeling I was one of only a handful of patients he had the pleasure of ‘helping.’ I never saw anybody else in the waiting area and I had caught a glimpse of his appointment book once. Its pages were empty except a reminder for him to pick up milk on the way home.

How are you doing really? she asked. True concern showed in her eyes.

I shrugged a third time. Peachy.

She was quiet a moment while she looked at me unflinchingly. You know, I believe you.

You do? I frowned, thinking she was messing with me.

It was her turn to shrug. I know a crap ton of scientists and geologists converged on Gate City like beetles on a turd and found no trace of anything you say happened out there at the park—

Is this supposed to help?

—but, something happened out there.

Yeah, I said. An earthquake.

She shook her blonde hair, her face becoming suddenly fierce. Don’t do that. If you’re going to claim those things happened, you can’t waver. Be confident. Slam your fist and declare it at the top of your lungs.

I laughed. When it bubbled up, I thought it might be spiteful and ironic, but it came out genuine. I’m sure that will only make them think I’m crazier than they thought. Poor Mr. Buttgardener wouldn’t be able to handle me.

I suppose you’re right. She laughed, too.

I felt myself opening up to her. I wanted to keep talking to her about what happened. It wasn’t so much the fact that she said she believed me. It was more that she made me feel like she believed me. So, I did what I always did when I felt myself giving in to somebody. I changed the subject.

"So, how do you plan on keeping away the unforgiving lines of age?" I asked.

Huh? she asked.

I nodded my head at the magazine she held. She flipped it to look at the cover.

Oh! she said and laughed again. They suggest salsa if you can believe it?

Really? They want you to put salsa on your face?

She nodded gravely. Just think. I could keep a bag of chips nearby in case I get the munchies.

Good call.

Yeah, she said.

The conversation fell. I thought maybe she might make a good psychiatrist someday, but she had to learn how to not let patients stop talking once she got them to open up. Once I had stopped, an unforgiving urge to bolt hit me like a punch in the gut.

Well, I said, I got to go. I got things and stuff to do.

Right, she said. "Don’t want to keep you from your things and stuff."

My things and stuff turned out to be wondering the city on foot. I did that a lot lately. I spent a lot of time at the ruins of Gate City Park after the battle in spite of being warned off by police, Aunt Stacy, Mr. Baumgartner, and anybody else that caught me there. I guess I held on to the hope that Aoife would show up sooner or later. She never did, but I spent most of my time there. I’d move just out of sight of the cops when they’d shoo me away, only to return when they left.

I did that for a while. Maybe a month or two until it became too painful. Every day I told myself this is the day. That day never came. Finally, I stopped going. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t handle the feeling of knowing she wasn’t coming back.

Still, it felt even worse to stop going. It was like I’d given up on her. In a way, I guess I had. Deep down, I had told myself she was gone for good and that hurt. It was worse than anything I’d ever felt except my parents’ accident. Sometimes it felt like it could be worse than even that. At least I hadn’t been the direct cause of their accident. I couldn’t say the same about Aoife’s sacrifice. If it hadn’t been for me, she would have never had to make it.

I found myself standing at a corner. It was only a few blocks from the park. I hadn’t realized I had been heading that direction. The guy in the car waiting for me to cross honked his horn. I only looked at him like he was a crushed squirrel in the road.

He honked again and when I didn’t move, he stomped on the gas. He yelled something out his partially open window as he zoomed away.

I let out a breath and took a step back. I couldn’t go back there. I wanted to. I really did. I kept telling myself—no matter how ridiculous it sounded—that I had to be there for her to be able to make it home. I didn’t have power to control the gateway anymore. I couldn’t tell if it was even there, but somehow, I had to be there for her to return.

And I was betraying her. Even as I turned and walked away from the park, I was betraying her to whatever fate she suffered on the other side of the gateway.

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