Alora: The Portal (19 page)

“Got ‘em. I’ll go ask Daegreth if he needs to go, and offer to cut him loose for a minute. If he refuses, I’ll wait until Brian has time to stand there with his gun in hand.”

Karen marched toward Daegreth’s chair, arriving just as he spilled the contents of his stomach on the floor beside him. “Oh, Daegreth, I’m so sorry.” Karen spoke in a soothing tone, feeling his head with the back of her hand.

Alora hurried to tug on Brian’s sleeve. “Daegreth is sick. Your wife is cutting him loose so he can go to the bathroom. I guess you need your gun, right?”

Brian’s heavy sigh confirmed his lack of enthusiasm, but he drew his weapon and joined his wife as she finished snipping the zip ties around Daegreth’s ankles.

“This is silly,” Brian grumbled to no one in particular. “The poor boy is sick. He needs a doctor not a gun pointed at him.”

Karen cut the zip tie from his left wrist, gingerly stepping over the splattered mess on the wood floor. “If we’d known you were sick, we wouldn’t have kept you tied up like this. Do you want to go use the bathroom and then go lie down in your bedroom?”

“Yes, please.” He forced out the two words as if a great effort were involved in speaking.

Vindrake could see only Ferrister’s oddly disembodied head peering out from inside the portal. Then his hand snaked out, guiding Vindrake into the portal opening. Slipping on the dry tunic, Vindrake was glad he’d carried it above the pool of water.
At least part of my clothing won’t be sopping wet and sticking to my skin.

The inside of the portal was rectangular, tall and narrow, and the tunnel stretched a short distance before curving to the left. Though Vindrake couldn’t quite reach the ceiling, he could easily touch both the smooth, cool passage walls at once. No visible light source explained the shadowless glow of light throughout the portal.

An ornately carved wooden door covered the portal entrance. Experimentally, he pushed on the handle, and the door swung open, once again revealing the cavernous bathing room. Though the bottom of the opening lay several fingers below water level, the water didn’t spill inside the portal. Tugging the door closed, he turned to Ferrister, who waited in silence.

“I’m surprised to find a door with intricate carvings inside the portal,” Vindrake remarked as he donned his boots. “Seems a waste when few will ever appreciate the workmanship.”

Ferrister made a raspy sound, followed by a fit of coughing. “Is that what you see, Master Vindrake? I only see a plain wood door.”

Vindrake wondered at Ferrister’s reply but refused to query him, unwilling to admit the old man had knowledge of which he was unaware. Without another word, Ferrister turned, leading the way down the narrow curving hallway.

“Have you been inside a portal before?” Vindrake couldn’t hide his curiosity. He’d never before considered the possibility of other realms… realms that could hold endless resources for Water Clan.

“Y-yes, Sire. I… I…” Ferrister gave a little cough. “I’ve been inside a portal once as a child, but it led to a mountain cliff, covered with ice and snow.” Ferrister trudged with shuffling steps, forcing Vindrake to shorten his stride.

“Let me lead the way.” Vindrake shoved Ferrister to the side, treading quickly down the winding passageway while Ferrister struggled to keep up.

As they walked, the ceiling dropped lower and the tunnel narrowed. Vindrake felt his heart speed up as beads of sweat rolled down his neck, despite the chill in the air. The sides closed in until he wondered if the walls might entrap him.

“We should have reached the end of the portal by now,” Vindrake muttered.

Vindrake’s face slammed into something hard, stopping his progress. He screamed in pain, reaching for his cracked nose, when Ferrister crashed into his back and knocked him against the wooden door again. Vindrake yelled out a stream of curses.

“You fool!”

“Forgive me, Sire!” Ferrister dropped to his knees. “I didn’t realize we’d reached the end.”

“Never mind.” Vindrake palpated his tender nose. “Just open the door. At once.”

“Yes, Sire.” Ferrister pushed on the heavy wooden door, opening up to a field of white. “I fear this world is frozen, much like the one I saw as a child. It may very well be that no one can live here.” He grasped the handle to close the portal door.

“Nonsense! It’s perfectly safe.” Vindrake placed his boot on Ferrister’s rear end and gave him a firm shove. With a wobbly cry, Ferrister tumbled out, flopping into the snow.

Vindrake stuck his head through the open door, the shock of cold a blessing against his clammy skin. He scoured the snow-covered landscape, spying a strange steaming pool of water, but no sign of other humans close by. Stepping outside, he ignored Ferrister who was struggling to stand up. He moved to the edge of the steaming pool of water, examining the colorful deposits decorating its floor.

A loud gust sounded as water spouted into the air, as high as three men. Ferrister cried out, losing his balance and falling back to the ground. The tower of water stood for more than twenty breaths, until Vindrake tired of counting.

When the water collapsed, Vindrake walked around the pool to the opposite side where the water tower had formed.
Could this be a display of power by a shaman from this realm?
He twisted his head around, wary of possible attack. But no sound emerged from the countryside blanketed in snow, save the periodic pulsing of steam from strange vented slots in the ground near the pool.

Vindrake ordered the floundering Ferrister to wait for him outside the portal while he explored. Starting toward what appeared to be a path between the trees, he found walking in the snow difficult, sinking to his knee with every footstep. Vindrake shivered from the cold, compounded by his wet pants, yet he forged ahead. Emerging from the trees into another clearing, he found the velvety snow in pristine condition, no footprints marring its surface as far as he could see. Neither could he see any sign of settlement, even to the far horizon.

Disappointed, he returned to find Ferrister huddled at the water’s edge, taking advantage of the heat radiating from the steamy pool.
Perhaps he’s not as daft as he appears.

“I’ve seen enough for now. Let us be off.” Vindrake pondered his observations as he followed Ferrister on the return trip, which seemed to take longer than their earlier travel. Ferrister established a quick rhythm, wheezing with every step, but Vindrake concentrated on his ruminations until the noise was barely noticeable. Nor did the ceiling seem low or the passage narrow. By the time they reached the portal opening at the bathing pool, Vindrake had a plan.

Daegreth knew the moment it happened. Perhaps it was the shock of Vindrake’s dark presence in his mind after such a long absence. Or perhaps it was the devastating loss of hope after learning he had a new family. But either way, his stomach rebelled. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he battled against waves of nausea. When he finally turned his head to vomit, he found Karen beside him, cutting off the zip ties binding him to the wooden chair.

No, no, no, no! Don’t cut the bindings!
He caught Brian’s gaze and attempted to send a message through his eyes.
Don’t release me! Don’t do it! Pay attention. Point that weapon toward me.

“If we’d known you were sick, we wouldn’t have kept you tied up like this. Do you want to go use the bathroom and then go lie down in your bedroom?” Daegreth blinked back tears at her kind tone, all too aware she was releasing him to perform a great violence. He would kill Alora or Kaevin first, and anyone who tried to stop him.

“Yes, please.” He ground out the words.
God, help me! How can I warn them? What can I say? Only one chance.

“
I freely and gladly serve my master, Vindrake.”

“Wait, Karen!” Alora shouted, and Karen froze with the scissors poised inches over Daegreth’s wrist. In the dead silence, all eyes turned to Alora. Her heart raced.
Am I imagining things?
“Did you hear what Daegreth said? He said, ‘I freely and gladly serve my master, Vindrake.’”

“I don’t understand.” Karen hesitated a moment too long.

Daegreth’s hand shot up, snatching the scissors from her fingers, opening the blades to slice at the remaining zip tie, recklessly ripping his skin in the process. With both hands and wrists free, he stood, his eyes locked with Alora’s. He moved toward her, but Brian stepped in his way.

“Stop, Daegreth. I don’t want to have to shoot you.” The pistol wobbled in Brian’s grip, but he aimed it directly at Daegreth’s chest.

Daegreth’s hand moved so quickly, it was a blur. Brian cried out. The gun clattered to the floor. Clutching at the scissors protruding from his chest, Brian crumpled.

Karen’s scream filled the room as Alora took another step back. Wesley flew at Daegreth from the side, but Daegreth grabbed him by the front of his shirt and tossed him against the wall like a rag doll. He impacted with a thud and slid to the floor.

Graely called out, “Alora! Take Kaevin and go!”

I can’t abandon everyone while Daegreth’s going berserk. He might kill everybody.

Daegreth took another step toward her, his movements smooth and confident, but his expression filled with misery. He ducked to the left. Something flew past his head. Again, he bobbed. And again he flinched to the side. Something flashed in the air. Alora saw Charles pass a ceramic knife to Graely, who threw without hesitation. Daegreth dodged again, his gifted reflexes too fast to overcome.

With Daegreth’s attention riveted on Graely, Kaevin hurtled at him from behind. Daegreth fell forward. He rolled, throwing Kaevin over his back. Daegreth arose in a crouch. He launched himself at Kaevin, who was still struggling to his feet.

As Daegreth descended over Kaevin, Alora transported Kaevin onto the couch. A heavy clunk. Daegreth hit the floor empty-handed. Unfazed, he bounced up. His legs coiled. His gaze fixed on Alora.

A flash. A cry. Daegreth’s hand rose to his bicep where a knife was imbedded, only the hilt exposed. He grasped the handle and yanked the blade free. Blood spread on his shirtsleeve, but he ignored it. Daegreth lifted the blade in his right hand. Again his gaze fixed on Alora. One stride. Two. Closer. Closer.

“No!” Kaevin screamed as he attacked again, this time hefting a cushion from the couch.

Daegreth pivoted toward Kaevin. His knife slashed down. Kaevin thrust the cushion like a shield, and the knife imbedded into the padding. Struggling to free his blade, Daegreth pulled his arm back. Kaevin used the momentum to push him a few steps away from Alora.

Alora saw Graely circling the room, nearing the thrown blades. Uncle Charles moved with stealthy steps from the rear, a knife in his hand. Whipping the cushion out of Kaevin’s hands, Daegreth whirled, landing a roundhouse kick in his ribs that sent him flying. Then Daegreth ran at Charles, holding the cushion in his outstretched hands like a ram. The impact forced Charles to stumble backwards. With a crunch of splintering wood and breaking glass, Charles crashed into the china cabinet. Before his limp body hit the floor, Daegreth jerked the blade free from the cushion and turned.

Daegreth rushed at Kaevin, who was pushing up from the floor with a hand on his ribs. Daegreth jabbed the blade at Kaevin’s neck. Kaevin parried the blow and swept his foot out, taking Daegreth’s legs from underneath him. Too late, Alora remembered her defense tactic against the wendts, for now Daegreth had fallen across Kaevin’s feet. She waited for an opportunity to transport Daegreth away. Somewhere. Anywhere. A moment when the two were out of contact. But Daegreth rolled up on his knees and snatched a handful of Kaevin’s hair. With a vicious tug, he bent Kaevin’s head back and lifted the blade to slash his exposed throat.

“No!” Alora screamed, leaping toward Daegreth with no plan of defense.

The explosion of a gunshot paralyzed her in mid-step.

The room fell silent.

Daegreth released his grip on Kaevin’s hair as the knife slipped from his fingers. His hand groped his side and came back coated in blood. Daegreth’s face relaxed in a smile before he collapsed in a bloody heap on top of Kaevin.

Dropping the gun, Wesley raced down the hallway to dash inside the bathroom, just as Arista emerged.

She surveyed the bedlam. “What happened? I was only gone for a few breaths.”

Steven’s head emerged from behind the couch. “Daegreth went crazy and attacked everyone.”

“We had a battle?” Arista stomped her feet. “Argh! I can’t believe I missed it!”

Chaos. During his short absence
, all of Water Clan had fallen into chaos. Vindrake felt steam building inside his head as his weapons master, Laeper, detailed the happenings spawned by his trip through the portal.
Why didn’t I recognize this possibility?

Spontaneous fighting had broken out between Vindrake’s faithful followers and those who only obeyed his will via the bloodbond. According to Laeper’s account, the loyal had been greatly outnumbered. Evidently, the moment Vindrake entered the portal, his power no longer held his citizens in check. Some of his most valuable warriors had lost their lives.

Even now, tempers flared between those who’d been warring on opposite sides. Only with great effort was his bloodbond holding their conflicts at bay. Throughout the kingdom, mayhem abounded, even amongst the simple farmers and workers. Many parents had abandoned their homes, taking advantage of the unexpected opportunity to secret their children away. Of course, since he’d returned, the families would be forced to return to their abodes and their assigned duties. Unfortunately, the effort of forcing his will on all these rebellious citizens simultaneously fatigued his body, a fact he hid from Laeper with careful determination.

He could never afford to leave his kingdom unattended again in the future. Perhaps he should separate those who would be faithful to him without the influence of the bloodbond and promote them to leadership positions. He could also utilize a band of loyal warriors for the incursion in the new realm since he now knew they would operate beyond his influence. With his gift of judging, differentiating between the two groups would be a simple task.

Still, it irked him that the noisome task was necessary; he’d never had to bother with ensuring loyalty in his followers in the past. He sent his beleaguered weapons master on his way with instructions to organize interviews of every citizen, beginning on the morrow with his council, guard, and warriors.

First things first; I must protect myself. If my strength should fail during the night, I must know my personal guard will shield me rather than murder me in my sleep.

“Judaene! Come inside!” Vindrake called his guard into the room. The formidable young warrior moved to his side without hesitation.

“Yes, Master Vindrake. What is your will?”

“I wish to ask you a question. Do you serve me gladly?”

“I freely and gladly serve my master, Vindrake.”

Though the words Judaene spoke were rote, they were also true.
My power and greatness must attract Judaene’s loyalty, yet I should ask to be certain
. “Why then, do you serve me? How do I know you would serve me in the absence of your bond? Your family heritage was Stone Clan, was it not?”

Judaene’s thick brows knitted over his deep green eyes, a rarity in Portshire. “Yes, Sire. We have a common enemy; I hate Graely BarManasae as much as you. He is responsible for my parents’ deaths.”

Whether or not Graely’s to blame for the deaths, Judaene believes it to be true. I should reward him for his faithfulness.

“Judaene, you have a fresh cut below your eye. Did another warrior inflict the wound during my absence? One who was not loyal to me when the bondmark left him?

“Yes, Sire. Another member of your honor guard, though
she
is without honor.”

“Bring her to me at once.”

“Your will be done, Master Vindrake.” Judaene’s eager eyes shown with bloodlust as he moved to obey.

Perfect. Her death will provide retribution for Judaene and much-needed strength for me. I cannot afford to kill every warrior who rebelled in my absence, but making an example of a few will encourage others to submit more readily.

Alora fought to ignore the nagging headache that had returned since she and Kaevin transported Brian to the emergency room along with the rest of the Franks family. When the doctor reported Brian in stable condition, Alora and Kaevin returned to Wesley’s house to find Dr. Sanders attending to Daegreth, with Graely’s help.

Alora helped Kaevin, Uncle Charles, and Arista return the family room to a semblance of order. She cringed, wondering if Karen would go ballistic when she realized how many dishes and plates had been broken when Uncle Charles smashed into the china cabinet.

Dr. Sanders emerged from the hallway, pulling his bloody latex gloves off inside out to toss them in the trashcan. “The boy needs to be in a hospital.”

“But you’d have to report a gunshot wound to the authorities. How would you explain it?” Uncle Charles tapped his fingers on his legs the way he did when he was really anxious. “Do you think he’s going to make it?”

“I don’t know. I did the best I could without doing surgery. The kid didn’t even make a sound when I dug the bullet out. It was wedged against a rib. But the bullet may have nicked his spleen. If so, he might not survive without surgery.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.” Charles dropped back in his chair, wincing when the back of his head touched the cushion.

“Who wants tea?” asked Arista, entering the room with a steaming mug in her hand. Upon learning how to fill a cup with water from the “magick pipe” and heat it inside the “magick box,” she’d made no less than three cups of tea, foisting them upon anyone who stood still.

Alora accepted a mug and sipped the hot soothing liquid. She was surprised to find her head felt a little better. She held out the cup toward him. “Here, Kaevin. Take a sip. It’s helping my headache.”

“I already had to drink a cup.” Kaevin rolled his eyes toward Arista. “But my head’s already feeling better. Now it’s only my ribs that are hurting.”

“I guess I should check out the other injuries since I’ve done what I can for the boy. Let me see if you’ve broken a rib.” Lifting Kaevin’s shirt, Dr. Sanders probed his side. Alora couldn’t help staring as she got her first view of Kaevin’s chest.
It’s nice. Lots of muscles. Ow!

“Ah!” said Kaevin.

“It hurts right here, huh? Yep, I think you’ve got a cracked rib.” Dr. Sanders listened to Kaevin breathing with his stethoscope. “But your lungs sound normal. Six weeks and you’ll be good as new, with a little rest and anti-inflammatories.”

“You don’t need to tape up his ribs, Doc?” asked Charles.

“No, that’s not recommended any more.”

“What about Uncle Charles’ head?” asked Alora. “It’s all bloody.”

“I’m fine,” Uncle Charles grumbled.

“Let me take a look at your head,” said Dr. Sanders. “And while I’m doing that, you can explain to me exactly what happened and why you have that boy tied to the bed with zip ties and someone standing guard over him.” Dr. Sanders referenced Graely, who’d remained in the bedroom to keep a watchful eye on Daegreth. “I mean this kid is obviously mentally imbalanced. I recognize him from when he went ballistic in the hospital. Now he’s evidently done it again.”

“He’s not crazy, Doc.”

“Well, he’s suicidal, Charles. When Graely wasn’t listening, the kid asked me to let him die. So what’s going on? Who is this kid?”

“Are you sure you want to know everything? I thought you wanted plausible deniability.” Charles gave him an
I-don’t-really-buy-it
look. Alora had seen a similar expression a few times before… usually when she gave a lame excuse for a bad test grade.

“I did want plausible deniability, but now I’m finally giving up. Besides, Janice has let a few things slip. I think she thinks I know more than I do. So, if she and I are going to be together—”

“Janice? You mean Beth’s mom?” Alora gasped. “You and Beth’s mom are dating? I can’t believe Beth kept it a secret.”

“Alora.” Uncle Charles said everything with one word in a scolding tone.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

Dr. Sanders laughed. “It’s okay, Charles. Janice and I have been keeping it quiet until we were certain it was serious, but we’re not hiding our relationship any longer.”

He shoved Charles in the direction of the bathroom. “Go stick your head in the shower and wash all that blood off so I can see if there’s any glass in there. I’ll be there in a minute.”

As Charles departed, Dr. Sanders continued his explanation. “Janice is very protective of Beth. She didn’t want Beth getting attached to me until she was sure I was going to stick around. So we told Beth last night.”

“Beth… oh, no! I was supposed to go over there today after our meeting. I forgot all about it after Daegreth went postal on us. She’s going to be so mad at me.” Alora dug in her coat pocket to retrieve her cell phone. Four missed calls and five texts. All from Beth.

Where are U?

Hello?

Call me!

What happened? I know U called Dr. Sanders? Who got hurt?

OMG! Going crazy here! U better be dead or IM gonna kill U!

“I’m going to check out Charles’ head. I think the light may be better in the bathroom.” Dr. Sanders slipped down the hall.

Alora called Beth, who answered on the first ring. “Where are you? Why didn’t you call me? What happened? Has there been another battle? Who got hurt?”

“Slow down. There was no battle. Daegreth’s bond to Vindrake evidently started working again.” Alora tried to use a calming voice, but she cracked up when she saw Arista’s expression. Her eyes were huge and round like fifty cent pieces as she eyed the cell phone.

“Is that Beth’s voice?” Arista asked. “Is it another magick box?”

“It’s called a phone,” Kaevin answered for her. “It’s not magick. They call it
tech-no-lo-gy
.” His smile was smug as he spoke the word, emphasizing each syllable.

“But who got hurt?” Beth’s voice rang out again.

“Daegreth tried to kill everybody. Uncle Charles and Wesley got some cuts and bruises but, in the end, just Brian and Daegreth were seriously injured.”

“Oh, no! How bad were they hurt?”

“We took Mr. Franks to the hospital. He got stabbed in the chest. And Daegreth got shot in his side.”

“Brian shot Daegreth?”

“No, Wesley shot him, just in time to save Kaevin’s life.”

“And I missed the whole thing.” Arista’s voice came from right behind Alora’s shoulder, where she’d moved to better view the cell phone.

“I can’t believe that stupid bloodbond came back after Daegreth’s been here a month with nothing happening,” Beth remarked. “Will you transport me over there in a few minutes? Please? I’ve been dying to meet Daegreth all this time.”

“Not unless you get your mother’s permission.”

“Awesome! I just got ungrounded today. I’ll call you back after I talk to her. Bye.”

Graely emerged from the bedroom with a nod to Kaevin. “He asked to speak to you. I believe his bindings are secure, so you’re safe to go in.”

All the blood seemed to drain from Kaevin’s face. Was he afraid of Daegreth now? Graely must have noticed the same thing because he squeezed Kaevin’s shoulder and spoke in a reassuring tone. “I believe he wants to beg your pardon. Perhaps he can feel death coming. You should speak with him so he can find his peace.”

Kaevin stood and plodded stiffly into the bedroom like he was walking the plank.

Kaevin’s stomach churned. Arriving beside Daegreth’s bed, he cleared his throat in the awkward silence. Daegreth opened his eyes and speared Kaevin with an intense pleading stare.

“I’m so sorry. You must believe me. I beg you not to hate me.” Daegreth’s voice cracked.

“I know you couldn’t help it. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I kicked you in the ribs. Are you injured?”

Kaevin gingerly probed his ribcage. “It’s not too painful, probably not even broken.” Daegreth didn’t need to know Dr. Sanders had said otherwise. He was already torturing himself over what he’d done.

“Kaevin… you promised me—”

“Don’t ask me, Daegreth. I can’t do it now. Perhaps in the heat of battle to protect Alora, but not now. Not like this.”

“Please, Kaevin. I can’t bear to live, knowing at any time I could turn on my friends and… and family. One breath I was perfectly fine, the next Vindrake’s will was back inside my mind. You saw what happened. I almost killed you and Alora. I injured Brian and Wesley and Charles.”

“Yes, but you didn’t kill us, did you. Why is that?”

“Because you fought against me. I was outnumbered.”

“Truly? Is that the only reason? There was no slight hesitation on your part? Enough time to give us an advantage?”

“Perhaps there were moments of hesitation, but not enough to compensate for my gifting. Had it not been for Wesley’s weapon, you would be dead now. Alora would be dead as well.” His jaw flexed as he swallowed.

“It seems to me you could be learning to fight Vindrake’s compulsion.”

“Yes, I fight. Always I fight him.” A single tear tracked down Daegreth’s face. “But every time, I lose. There’s no hope, Kaevin. Do you not see? The bloodbond could return at any time. Please kill me now and send me to the hell to which I’m already destined.”

“That would be wrong. We should leave it in God’s hands. If He wishes you to die, let Him take you as a consequence of your wound. If you live, He has some other purpose for you to fulfill.”