Sebastian Page 18

  He took a step back to avoid getting kicked in the face as Lynnea swung her legs over the top of the gate and the wooden door. His foot came down on a stone, making him stumble. He grabbed the gate to keep his balance—which brought his face level with the brass plaque attached to the stone wall next to the locked gate.

  Etched into the plaque was a date and the wizard’s symbol, indicating that this was a forbidden place.

  He forgot about the danger coming toward him. Everything faded to insignificance as he stared at the date on that plaque.

  Then Lynnea screamed, “Sebastian!”

  Jolted back to the immediate danger, he snatched up the stone he’d stumbled on.

  Giant ants and spiders raced toward him, and in front of them was something that looked like an elongated spider with two black eyes and jaws powerful enough to crush his legs.

  A deadly part of the magic wizards wielded was something they called “the lightning of justice.” Bolts of magic that could kill a man. It was used when a person was deemed so dangerous he or she had to be destroyed instead of being sent to a dark landscape as punishment.

  Unfortunately, he had no idea how to call that kind of magic or control it. But raw power swelled inside him now, so he channeled it—and his anger—as best he could into the stone in his hand.

  The spidery thing rushed toward him with terrifying speed. The others weren’t far behind.

  With a yell that was part fury, part desperation, he threw the stone at the spidery thing. It struck between the creature’s eyes, then—

  Sebastian threw his arms up to protect his eyes as bolts of light exploded out of the stone, searing the spidery thing and the other creatures near it.

  He blinked, shook his head, then scrambled over the gate. Coming down on the other side, he leaned back against the solid stone wall.

  “Sebastian?” Lynnea rushed toward him.

  “Don’t!” His hand still tingled from the released magic. Since he was pretty sure the wizards’ lightning didn’t usually splinter like that, he didn’t want her to touch him until he felt more confident that he wouldn’t sizzle her, too.

  “There’s no door on this side of the wall,” Lynnea said, looking at the solid stone. “Why isn’t there a door?”

  Because they tried to seal her in. Because…Damn you, Lee! You never told me why. All these years, and you never told me why.

  He pushed away from the wall and looked around. An overgrown, abandoned garden—with a way to escape hidden in the fountain at its center.

  “This way. Hurry.” Still not daring to touch her, he followed a path to the center of the garden, Lynnea right behind him.

  When he reached the fountain, he circled it, looking for whatever was hidden here that would get them out of this place. Moss on the stones that shaped the fountain’s pool, green scum covering most of the water.

  Nothing! But something here tugged at him.

  Crouching, he thrust a hand into the water. His fingers brushed over stones—and his heart jumped as he heard the sounds of creatures fighting over the remains of those he had killed. But charred corpses wouldn’t interest them long if they sensed living prey nearby.

  His hand moved through the water. Then he felt a tingle, a tug, a sense of warmth right…there.

  His hand hovered over the stone—and he remembered something Lee had told him during a visit to the Den.

  “People expect bridges to be large enough to physically walk over,” Lee said. “But a one-shot bridge can be small enough to fit in your hand.”

  Sebastian stopped picking at the remains of his dinner and frowned at his cousin. “One-shot?”

  “A small object, filled with just enough of a Bridge’s power for one crossing to a specific landscape.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it would be much use.”

  Lee hesitated, then said quietly, “Sometimes it gives a person the only chance to escape where they are.”

  Too bad Lee hadn’t told him how these one-shot bridges worked. Was there something he needed to do? Or would he be pulled into another landscape the moment his hand closed over the stone?

  “Sebastian,” Lynnea whispered.

  He looked up. Saw a spider coming over the wall.

  “Take my hand,” he said. He didn’t dare look around to see what else might be coming over the walls.

  Holding on to Lynnea with one hand, he closed his other hand over the stone. He stood up and turned away from the fountain at the same time the spider reached the ground inside the garden.

  He took a step, pulling Lynnea with him.

  The spider ran toward them.

  He didn’t know where this bridge would take them, but he trusted Lee, who was the only Bridge who would have put an escape route in this garden. And he trusted Glorianna Belladonna.

  As Glorianna’s name echoed in his mind, he and Lynnea took another step—and disappeared a moment before the spider reached them.

  We look human, but we are not. Ephemera shaped us, manifested us, brought us into the world in answer to the cries of human hearts for guidance.

  Some of us have gathered in the places where the currents of Light are the strongest. These Guardians will keep their distance from the chattering of the human heart, will live simple, peaceful lives that will feed the Light and keep those currents flowing in the world. And those currents, in turn, will nourish hope, courage, love.

  The rest of us are Guides. We walk among people and feel as they do—glittering moments of joy, warm moments of contentment, moments full of the jagged shards of envy, anger, disappointment. We drink from the wells of sorrow and feast at the banquet of love.

  But we understand what Ephemera cannot: That the human heart is as fluid as itself, that a heart is touched by the winds of emotions, bending with them for a moment, sometimes breaking beneath the violence of a storm. But those feelings are the wind, not the bedrock of a heart.

  And yet, even bedrock is malleable. A seed can find its way into a crevice, root itself in the dark while it grows toward the light. Given time and the things it needs to grow, the plant’s roots can widen that crevice, become strong enough to break stone. And things change.

  So it is the bedrock of the heart that resonates for us, not the winds of changing feelings. It is the true desires, the deepest yearnings, the heart’s need to make its journey through life that calls to us.

  Be careful what you wish for, because Ephemera will manifest that wish—but not necessarily in the way you intended…or even wanted. People hear the words, but they’re full of wind wishes—things they want now, are desperate to have now, only to forget about those same things tomorrow because those things did not truly feed the heart.

  So we walk among them, feeling the resonance of the bedrock wishes, the true dreams of the heart. And we whisper to Ephemera, Don’t listen to that wish. It’s not a true wish. Or, Yes, that’s a true wish. Alter the currents around that person to provide the chance for him to take the first steps of the journey that will end with the heart having what it desires.

  One of us would resonate with that yearning heart for a moment, showing it the possibility, giving it the chance to take those first steps.

  Some hearts will back away from the journey, too fearful to leave the familiar even though it withers. Others will leap forward and never look back, bruising the hearts left behind. Pain will force some to begin the journey. For others, love will be a beacon that keeps them moving forward.

  We walk among the people. So do the others. As we are drawn to the Light and the feelings that resonate with the Light, the others are drawn to the darkness that dwells within the human heart.

  The people call them the Dark Guides.

  Ephemera manifested them, too, because we who follow the Light could not resonate with the hearts that yearned for the Dark.

  There will always be such hearts. There will always be that choice. If that wasn’t true, then a heart that walks in the Light has made no choice at all.

  �
��The Lost Archives

  Chapter Eleven

  Simple stone markers stood sentry at the beginning of a dirt path that curved down the hill. A step away from those markers, Sebastian pulled Lynnea into his arms.

  He watched. Waited.

  No nightmarish creatures appeared between the stone markers.

  Weak with relief, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against Lynnea’s head, rubbing one hand up and down her back to offer comfort.

  “You’re all right?” he asked quietly. “You’re not hurt?”

  “I’m all right, but…” Lynnea turned enough to look at the markers. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever landscape this was connected to.” He opened his hand and stared at the piece of smooth, white marble.

  Peace folded around him like a warm, soft blanket. Fear diminished with every breath.

  He could almost see the air shimmer like a veil between the sentry stones. If he stepped through them in the other direction to enter whatever landscape lay beyond, fear would have a savage bite, and the world beyond the veil might be filled with things that would rape courage and murder hope. But here…

  Slipping the piece of white marble into his jacket pocket, he looked at Lynnea. “We’d better find out where we are.”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t sure she’d heard him. She seemed quietly dazzled by the feel of this place.

  They started down the hill. The trees that had blocked the view on their left ended at the curve in the path, revealing a small lake. A handful of tiny islands dotted the lake, and a light shone on each one. Another light moved steadily away from one island, and in the day’s last breath, he saw a man walking across a bridge back to the shore.

  “Hey-a,” Sebastian called, using the folksy greeting that was commonplace in the landscape Nadia called home. Even in a friendly tone, a raised voice sounded wrong here—disruptive, almost obscene—but the man stopped on the shore, lifted a hand in greeting, and followed the path around the lake that connected with the path down the hill.

  “Welcome, welcome,” the man said when Sebastian and Lynnea reached the bottom of the hill. “I am Yoshani, a fellow visitor in this part of the landscape. You have missed the evening meal, but there is always something in the kitchen for late travelers. Come. We’ll get you settled in the guesthouse, and then you may wander as the heart wills.” He turned and led them up another hill. “Have you traveled far?”

  “In some ways,” Sebastian replied.

  Yoshani nodded. “So it is with many who find their way to Sanctuary.”

  Sanctuary. “I never thought I’d see this place,” Sebastian said, the words barely voiced.

  But Lynnea heard him and squeezed his hand to indicate she understood.

  She didn’t understand. How could she? She was human, and someone like her could have found her way here at any time.

  But she hadn’t. When her heart was looking for a safe place, she found the Den—and you.

  “We have many guests in this part of Sanctuary,” Yoshani said. “They come to renew the spirit so they are stronger when they go back to their journey in the world.”

  “There are other parts of Sanctuary?” Lynnea asked.

  “Yes. There are many Places of Light in the world, but we were islands, each alone in the sea of the world until the Landscaper brought us together, creating borders that connect these places with one another. Her brother, who is a Bridge, also helped by making bridges between our landscapes so that we may visit and better understand the other caretakers of the Light.” Yoshani raised a hand in greeting. “And there he is now.”

  At the top of the hill stood a three-story stone building. A man stepped out into the light of the lanterns hung by the doorway.

  “Hey-a, Lee!” Yoshani said. “We have visitors.”

  In that moment, everything else vanished for Sebastian. His mind and heart were filled with one image—a brass plaque with a wizards’ seal…and a date that had revealed a secret.

  Shrugging off the blanket of peace, he strode toward the familiar figure, whose mouth was curving into a smile of surprised pleasure.

  “Sebastian!” Lee said. “What brings you—”

  A shove pushed Lee back a step. Then Sebastian grabbed Lee’s shirt, pulling his cousin close as his hands curled into fists.

  “You never told me,” Sebastian growled. “I had a right to know, and you never told me.”

  No blankness in Lee’s eyes to indicate he didn’t know what Sebastian was talking about. No surprise at the anger. And no apology.

  “Hey-a, hey!” Yoshani said. “Don’t be spilling your troubles on the ground for other people to trip over. Not in Sanctuary.”

  Sebastian felt heat flood his face—the same heat he used to feel as a boy when he’d done something that felt natural to him but wasn’t acceptable to everyone else.

  He opened his fists, releasing Lee’s shirt.

  Yoshani studied them, then shook his head. “Tch. Here. Take the lantern. Go down to one of the islands and speak your angry words if you must. Let the water wash them away. I will look after the sensible one among you,” he added, making a graceful gesture with his hand to indicate Lynnea.

  Sebastian took a step back. “No, it’s—”

  “Yes,” Lee said. He took the lantern from Yoshani. “It’s time things were said.”

  Sebastian followed Lee down the hill to the lake. They crossed a bridge to the first island, which had a stone bench and a hollowed rock that sheltered another lantern.

  Lee swung a leg over one end of the bench and sat down, straddling it. Sebastian mirrored the move, settling at the other end of the bench.

  On one of the other islands, wind chimes rang softly, stirred by puffs of air, the clear notes blending with the rustle of leaves and the lazy sound of water lapping the edges of the islands.

  Sebastian closed his eyes. The sounds pulled at him, urging him to let go of anger and surround himself once more in that blanket of peace.

  Then Lee moved, setting the lantern aside. It was a quiet sound that didn’t intrude on the leaves and wind chimes and water, but it was enough to make Sebastian remember—and hold on to—the anger.

  “I saw the plaque on Glorianna’s garden,” Sebastian said. “I saw the date. That was shortly after she created the Den, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

  “So what if it was?” Lee replied.

  “Damn you! She was fifteen years old, and she was declared rogue because she made the Den!”

  “No, she was declared rogue because she escaped being sealed into her garden, and by the time the wizards and Instructors realized that, she had disappeared into the landscapes.”

  Sebastian bobbed his head. Not to agree with anything, just to indicate he’d heard. “So the crime she committed that was great enough to be walled in was creating a place called the Den of Iniquity. For me.”

  “You aren’t the only one who has benefited from the Den,” Lee countered.

  “But I was the reason she created it. She made that place so that I would have a home.”

  “Whether that’s true or not doesn’t matter,” Lee said, his voice sharp. “They never knew about you. The Instructors never asked why she made the Den, and Glorianna never told them, so they never knew about you. I doubt there’s any among them that know even now why she altered the landscapes to make the Den.”

  “So you decided not to tell me that Glorianna had sacrificed her future for my sake.”

  “Don’t blame me,” Lee snapped. “By the time I found out what had happened, it was two years too late to make any difference. What could you have done, Sebastian? I was fifteen; you were seventeen. What could either of us have done? The wizards had condemned her. The other Landscapers had condemned her. All I could do was get through my formal training as fast as I could so that I could be a Bridge for her, since you can be damn certain no one else would do it knowingly. And I had to be careful, always so careful, because I was Glorianna’s brother, and th
ey were always watching me to see if my gift had any unacceptable…flourishes.”

  “Like being able to impose one landscape over another?”

  “Exactly. Which is something only my family knows about me.”

  Sebastian hesitated, absorbing the importance of that statement tossed out in anger. When Lee had told him about this rare ability, he’d understood his cousin was sharing something very private, but he hadn’t realized how much trust Lee was offering by telling him at all.

  Only my family knows about me.

  And he hadn’t realized how difficult all those years at the school had been for Lee. “Why did you stay?”

  “Because I needed the official training. Oh, I didn’t need most of the training itself. I’d done more just playing with Glorianna when we were children than I learned in the first three years at the school. But if I hadn’t gone through the formal training to prove my talents weren’t a potential danger to Ephemera, I would have been declared rogue, too, and that wouldn’t have done Mother or Glorianna any good.”

  Sebastian hung his head. “I’m sorry things were hard for all of you, that things went bad for Glorianna…because of me.”

  “It wasn’t you, so stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

  That stung his temper and his pride. He raised his head and stared at his cousin.

  Lee looked out over the water. “It wasn’t you, and it wasn’t the Den. Not really. I overheard some things while I was in training that make me think it was just an excuse. Before she ever got to the school, the wizards suspected that Glorianna’s power might eclipse what was considered ‘natural’ in a Landscaper, and they wanted to seal her in, confine her, isolate her. If it hadn’t been the Den, it would have been something else at some other time, when it might have been harder for her to break free.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Like I said, things I overheard. The wizards come by several times a year, right after students are evaluated for advancement. They always want to know about the strongest student Landscapers, the ones who might become a ‘problem’ in the future once they’re away from watchful eyes.” Lee looked at Sebastian. “Glorianna wasn’t the first, you know. Whenever I had a free day, I would wander all over the school. There were other sealed gardens, some dating back a hundred years or more. Some going back so far the date had been etched in the stone wall instead of on a brass plaque. I think…” He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “I think the wizards have been culling the strongest Landscapers for generations. I think they find some excuse to get that girl declared a threat to Ephemera, then seal her up in a cage of her own making. In theory, the girl can reach the things she needs to survive—food, clothing, shelter—through the access points in her garden, but she’s alone. She can reach things but not people. Even if one of her access points is a street in the middle of a city, she’s still isolated from any direct contact with other people. That’s the real punishment of being walled in by the Justice Makers. The girl lives alone—and she dies alone. And her line is extinguished.”