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The Lost Gate Page 5


  But the real hope of all Families, whenever they had a Sniffer or Doormouse, was that they would find a longforgotten gate to Westil that Loki had somehow overlooked when he was closing all the gates in the world. Then the Family could pass through to the other world, return with their power vastly increased, and rule all the Westilian Families in Mittlegard.

  No passage to Westil here. Only the criminal existence of Danny North, child gatemage, who should be put in Hammernip Hill to keep the war from breaking out again. The Greek Doormouse had found him. But she could not possibly know that he was the one she found. He could bluff this out.

  “You’re not thinking of going back, are you?”

  And just like that, his hope of escape was over.

  It was some adult’s clant, of course, so the voice did not sound like himself. More like a whisper in the woods. The rustling of leaves. But the voice was clear enough.

  “Thor,” said Danny. “Of course I’m going back.”

  “I understand. Life is burdensome for you. You think of Hammernip Hill as a fine resting place.”

  “No one knows it was me inside that wall.”

  “Well, now I do,” said Thor.

  Danny refused to take the bait. If Thor’s clant was waiting for Danny here, then he already knew. “You knew about this place.”

  Thor formed a little whirlwind, picking up leaves and pine needles to give him a tiny tornado shape. “We’ve taken turns watching you come and go. We argued a little, sometimes—does he understand that he’s making gates, or does he think he’s simply a fast runner?”

  “I realized it last summer. When I took Tina’s and Mona’s pathetic little clants to the top of a tree. A place so high I couldn’t get back there by climbing.”

  “Don’t call ‘pathetic’ a thing you cannot do,” said the whirlwind that was Thor.

  “Oh, I’m quite aware that I’m the most pathetic of all. But then, I’ve had no training.”

  “And who would train you? I hope you’re not resentful.”

  “Your sons beat me up. A lot.”

  “Nasty little brutes, aren’t they?”

  “They’re your sons.”

  “I was assigned to get a drowther wife. I did. The results were disappointing.”

  “But they can make clants.”

  “Apart from that, and copious amounts of urine, manure, and trouble, they produce little else. But one does what the Family needs.”

  “And yet you’ve apparently known about me for a long time, and you said nothing.”

  “Gyish and Zog would never let you live, Danny. You know that. And there are plenty in the Family who would back them to the hilt.”

  “But not you. And not … who are the others? And what exactly do you expect me to do?”

  “I can’t tell you until I’m sure you’re not coming back,” said Thor. “Because it’s possible you’re such a donkey pizzle that you’ll turn yourself in and name the people who protected you, and then die beside them to prove your loyalty.”

  “And how do you prove your loyalty?”

  “The way we’ve always done it in the North Family. Look for a gatemage to be born among us, and then shield him and protect him until he’s old enough to escape this prison compound and reach adulthood.”

  Danny sat down and thought about this. “So our compliance with the treaty is all pretense?”

  “Oh, Zog and Gyish mean it with all their hearts. Gyish was never in on the secret, even when he was Odin. He was always just mad enough to take treaties seriously. Honor, you know. I don’t have any. Not where our enemies are concerned. No, the only honor is doing what will allow the Family to rise again from the ashes of Loki’s madness. You’re the first gatemage since Loki to be clever enough to stay alive this long.”

  “I wasn’t clever, I just didn’t know I had the knack of it.”

  “Yes, but when you found out you didn’t brag or ask questions or suddenly start looking up Loki in the library. And before you knew, you didn’t boast about how fast you could run and then get yourself observed making instantaneous jumps through space. That’s how most of the others got themselves up in Hammernip Hill.”

  “And yet you knew about me.”

  “Knew about you? Hoped for you is more the truth. Your mother and father—so powerful, so unusual. Why do you think they wanted to make babies together? They’d had children in their first marriages. Pipo and Leonora were very promising. Quirky in their own way. Alf and Gerd, your parents, the two mightiest mages in generations. They won the war for us, you know.”

  “I thought we lost.”

  “Lost? That’s what we called it, for the other Families’ sake. ‘We surrender! Do with us what you will!’ ” The mini-tornado sank down and seemed to grovel. “But they would never have made a treaty and kept it this long if they weren’t deathly afraid of us. Even now, they are making no accusations. Because they’re afraid of your mother and father.”

  “Why not? So am I.”

  “They have to keep moving, so they won’t fall into a trap. The other Families want them dead. And they shivered with fear when they heard that your mother was pregnant with Alf’s child. And then Alf is made Odin, and the word gets out that their only child together is … a drekka? Oh, I’m sure they absolutely believed us on that one.”

  “I did,” said Danny.

  “How would you know that gatemages don’t make clants? It’s a closely guarded bit of information. Why do you need to make remote copies of yourself, when you can go, just go, as with the winged heels of Mercury, to whatever place you wish to see? But we knew. Your seeming drekkitude was just another hopeful sign to us.”

  “Who is ‘us’?”

  “Just the five of us. Your parents and Mook and Lumtur.”

  Aunt Lummy and Uncle Mook. And Thor, of course.

  And Mama and Baba.

  Danny found himself crying. He didn’t know he was going to, didn’t feel it coming. He was just … crying. And then sobbing into his hands. Loud sobs. And he wasn’t even sure why. Except that it had to do with Mama and Baba.

  “Don’t you see they had to keep their distance from you?” said Thor. “What if one of them was caught looking at you with love? Or pride? What would they say that they were proud of, without rousing suspicion? But you have to know that they are proud of you. Of how well you’ve done in your studies. Languages—what a marker for a gatemage! Amazing that no one guessed just from that alone! And how resourceful you’ve been. You realize that you were leaving the compound for months before we finally saw you do it and months more before we saw you use all three escape gates. That was very impressive. Your gates still go only a short way, like the gates of a Pathbrother, but you’re what, thirteen? Oh, yes, they’re proud of you.”

  Danny got control of himself. He was ashamed that Thor had seen him cry, but he couldn’t do anything about it now.

  “So Mama and Baba don’t want me dead?”

  “Oh, don’t get this wrong, Danny. If you come back into the compound now, you’ll be killed. Maybe not at first—maybe they’ll wait for your mother and father to come home. But only so they could lead the attack on you. Do you understand?”

  “No.” Danny wasn’t sure if he was furious at Thor for saying Danny’s own parents would have him killed, or furious at his parents because it was true.

  “Stop being angry, it just makes you dumb. They’ll have to show that they were absolutely heartless—the law that applies to other people’s children applies to their own. It’s not as if they could save you at that point. The moment they seemed to be wavering, Zog would peck your eyes out and Gyish would boil your blood.”

  “So now they’ll track me down and find me.”

  “Think, Danny. Why do you think I was put in charge of our network of informants? The only person tracking you will be me.”

  “What am I going to do? In case you didn’t know it, thirteen-year-olds aren’t safe out in the drowther world, even if they don’t have mages fro
m another world hunting them.”

  “Danny, Danny, we’re not from another world. We’re from this world. For thirteen hundred years we’ve been from this world.”

  “You’re still not answering my question.”

  “You’ll get along, Danny.”

  “How?”

  “You’re one of us, Danny. You might be one of the most powerful mages in the family—we’re certainly hoping so, because all this will be wasted if you can’t learn how to open a gate to a world you’ve never seen.”

  Danny thought about that for a while. “I opened a gate to this place when I had never seen it.”

  “Very impressive. Let’s see … two miles, to a place you can see from Hammernip. Why, you’ll be ready to go to a planet in another star system tomorrow!”

  “I don’t even know what’s hard or what’s easy!”

  “Well, I can tell you this. The gates you’re making aren’t yet open gates. You have to learn how to make them and then leave them open for other people to follow. Then you’ll be a Gatefather.”

  “You’ve tried to go through my gates?”

  “You should have seen me. Running starts, great leaps, I always just stayed in the same part of the compound. Your gates are real, but they only work for you. So far.”

  “How do I open them?”

  “Am I a gatemage?”

  “Then I need books.”

  “Gatemages never told, never wrote things down. Liars, tricksters, deceivers, that’s what gatemages are. Along with being healers, guides, interpreters, ambassadors.”

  “Healers?”

  “Think about it, Danny. Have you ever passed through a gate and come through in any condition but perfectly healthy and uninjured?”

  Danny shrugged.

  “Something happens during the passage through a gate. It heals you. The body that emerges on the other side is perfect, exactly what it should be at the age you are. There are no blind or one-legged gatemages.”

  Danny remembered now. Loki wasn’t known as a healer, but Hermes and Mercury were.

  “Go far from here,” said Thor. “Talk to people in their own language, but also say as little as possible. Let them teach you, by what they say, what you need to know to stay alive. Drowthers can be cruel, but they’re not all alike, and many more of them are kind than otherwise. Stay alive until you can make a gate that stays open. Then come back here. Don’t just walk in—gate yourself in to Lumtur’s and Mook’s bedroom. They’ll be hoping for you. Waiting.”

  “What will happen then?”

  “Then we’ll talk about whether and how you’re going to get us all to Westil. The five of us first. We’ll come back powerful enough to subdue anyone who tries to hurt you. When they see the result of the passage to Westil, they’ll be clamoring to do the same. You’ll be the hero of the Family.”

  Danny thought again. “So that’s the plan. I leave in order to keep the Family from killing me, and I live in hiding while you pretend to search for me, and when I learn the forbidden gatemagery without a speck of help from you, I’m going to come back and just give you all this power?”

  Thor laughed. “Ah, Danny, it’s good to hear you talk like one of the Family. Of course you won’t give us anything. You’ll demand power. You’ll insist on being made Odin in place of your father. Do you think you’ll be the first? Your father will usher you in and bow to you. Whatever you make us pay, it’s worth the price.”

  Thor hadn’t understood at all. It hadn’t crossed Danny’s mind to become head of the Family, least of all while Baba still held the office. But let Thor think he knew what Danny would do. It would make it all the easier to deceive him.

  “North, south, east, west. Make plenty of jumps. The longer, the better. Though don’t try making gates that end over water, not until you figure out how to make a gate while drowning.”

  “I made a gate while people were crumbling down a lath-and-plaster wall with a shovel and poker.”

  “A promising step. Just don’t tell me where you’re going. Make it hard to spot you, so I can really look for you without accidentally finding you. And take care that this absurd little girl of the Greeks not find you first. You can be sure they’ll have her looking for you.”

  Danny nodded as he rose to his feet. “Do you have anything else useful to tell me?”

  “You sound so bored. ‘And the voice of God was in the whirlwind after all,’ ” said Thor. “We gods just aren’t as impressive as we once…”

  Danny wasn’t there to hear him finish the sentence. He had learned all that Thor intended to tell him. Danny had reached several clear conclusions.

  First, his parents and Lummy and Mook and Thor might have watched over him, but if he screwed up and got caught, they would have killed him and still would kill him just as quickly as anybody else. So they were no friends of his, especially because Danny had no idea what “screwing up” might consist of.

  Second, if Thor’s clant could watch him pass through gates for years, long before Danny even understood that they were gates, then who else might have a clant here, listening to the whole conversation? Thor’s boys, Lem and Stem, were stupid, all right, but Danny didn’t think they got their stupidity from their drowther mother.

  Third, Danny really was getting the idea of what he did inside himself to make a gate. The one he made to get from the house to here was his first act of deliberate gate creation, and to make it with only one false start wasn’t a bad thing. He believed he could make a gate whenever he wanted. He didn’t even have to be walking, let alone running or leaping. And now was as good a time as any to see whether he could do it.

  He could. He thought of where he wanted to go, and there he was, standing just outside the fence that marked the edge of the I-64 freeway right-of-way, watching the cars and semitrucks approach, then whiz by, then cruise on out of sight.

  And then, without another thought, he was on the other side of the freeway, up on the hill. Another gate now existed behind him—and if Thor was telling the truth, no one could follow him through it. Why would he ever, ever want to make a gate that other people could pass through? They could follow him then! And the last thing he wanted was to be followed.

  Another jump, and he was in the Wal-Mart parking lot. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he’d need better clothes than what he was wearing in order to pass for normal in the drowther world. And shoes—he had to have shoes. Running shoes. The kind he’d seen on television and internet ads. The kind that drowther kids his age all wore. The kind that the Aunts had absolutely refused to buy for him. “Bare feet are better, Danny. It toughens you up.” Well, screw you, all you cheap murdering bastards. If you think I’m ever coming back, think again.

  3

  THE MAN IN THE TREE

  The kingdom of Iceway has no eastern border. It runs up against Icekame, the ridge of mountains that form the northern spine of the great continent of Westil. The peaks of Icekame are always deep in snow, and their glaciers creep downward year after year, plowing the poor soil and stony earth of the high valleys before them.

  Many miles below these valleys, in his castle of Nassassa by the city of Kamesham on the Graybourn, the King cared nothing for that edge of his kingdom. Beyond Icekame there were no marauding hordes eager to pour over the high passes. There was only the Forest Deep, where no one dwelt but thornmages, who sought no visitors and never left.

  From a king’s point of view, Icekame was better than a border. On that edge of his kingdom, there was no one who coveted his crown or his lands, and he need not spare thought or money to guard that border. And the higher one journeyed up the valleys, the poorer the people were, so there was no purpose in trying to tax them. A king could only do it once, and then, deprived of the slight margin of survival, the people would either die or become expensive refugees farther down the valley.

  So the people in the high valleys were left alone. Poor and powerless, scrabbling in their poor soil for food enough to last out the winter, eking
out a bit of meat by killing a bird or a squirrel now and then, they buried many a child, and a man was old at forty.

  Between hunger and loss, however, they found time to live. The children had games and rhymes and contests and grand adventures between the labors that helped their families survive. They got older and felt the stirring of the hot sap of love rising through them like trees in spring. The women built their mud-daubed hovels and symbolically sang their lovers into husbands at the hearth, and then babies came and they delighted in them and taught them and raged at them and clung to them for however long they might survive.

  The people in the King’s city of Kamesham thought that these highvalley folk lived like animals. But in truth these villagers lived pure human life. They needed each other to survive, and knew it. They had no conspiracies and no secrets, no ambitions and no feuds. They couldn’t afford the luxury of treating any man or woman or child as expendable.

  The highvalley villagers knew one thing that the King in Kamesham did not even think about: They knew every passage over Icekame into the Forest Deep. In high summer, when the crops were doing well and could take care of themselves, families would pack up a bit of food and hike over a pass and then down the other side.

  As they walked, the parents taught the children what they could and could not take in this place: Food enough for meals while they were there, but nothing to carry away. Water enough to drink, but nothing for the return journey.

  “Will we see a thornmage?” a child would ask. Always they hoped to see one, and feared to see one.