Gateway (The Gateway Trilogy, Book 1), page 10
Instead, I looked around at the decor, taking in the iconography from multiple religions. A statute of the Virgin Mary had been placed beside Kwan Yin; a Weeping Buddha shared altar space with an alabaster Jesus. In my struggle to make peace with my life, I had studied the religions of the world, never finding the answers I sought.
“All right everyone,” Master Dogan said a moment later. “Close your eyes and become aware of your breath.”
I did as he instructed. Even with my eyes closed I could sense the room grow still. The only sound was that of others inhaling and exhaling. My nose itched. I tried to ignore it but it only got worse. I lifted the lid of one eye. Master Dogan's eyes were closed along with the rest of the room. I quickly scratched my nose and went back to stillness. But my leg was falling asleep. The tingling became unbearable. I wiggled my toes. When that didn't help I flexed my ankle, just slightly, hoping no one would notice. It was no use, my leg was on fire; I had to move it. If I just crossed my legs the other way… I did it as discreetly as possible. The relief was overwhelming as blood flowed back into my left calf and foot. OK, now I could concentrate. My breath, just focus on my breath. Was I supposed to be slowing it down? What was the purpose of meditating anyway? Maybe it helped with the link that Taren said the Keepers formed. But why did Guardians need to do it? You can't fight when you're sitting still.
Why was I so bad at this? I opened my eyes, exasperated. Master Dogan was looking right at me. I lowered my eyes in shame. Some Daemon I was. Shouldn't that have made me better at this than the others instead of clueless?
With my head lowered and my hair falling in front of my eyes, it would have been impossible for him to see that my eyes were still open. I stared at a spot on the carpet where a tuft had been pulled loose, leaving a tiny hole. I became completely absorbed in it, noting its irregular shape, the colors of the loose threads.
A chime sounded and there was movement among the other students. I looked up and saw that the clock read 5:50. I'd zoned out for forty minutes. I was a horrible meditater and had cheated my way through my first session. I'd put that in the column of me not being a Daemon. I stood and stretched the stiffness out of my legs. I felt eyes upon me and noticed that Master Dogan was studying me intently.
I made my way to the dining hall, where once again Callie was already in line. She motioned me over.
“Morning, did you sleep well?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, surprisingly so. You?”
“Great. Better than I have in months. Oh, this is Madison, by the way. My third roommate.” Callie gestured to a girl with curly hair the color of caramel wearing stylish eyeglasses.
We said hello and I greeted Bridget and Crystle who were also in line.
“So, how did you do during meditation?” I asked Callie as we filled our plates. “I couldn't seem to stop fidgeting.”
“That's normal,” Madison answered instead. “It takes practice.”
That was comforting, I supposed. I just had the feeling that my progress was going to be measured using a different scale than the other Keepers in training.
We got to the beverage line and I was overjoyed to see coffee. I pulled the lever and watched as my cup filled with steaming black goodness. I stirred in two sugar packets and took a sip. Not the best cup I'd ever had, but certainly not the worst.
We took our seats and I warmed my hands on my coffee mug, content to inhale its aroma before I started on breakfast.
“So, what's going on with you and Taren?” Crystle asked with a smirk.
“Ooh, do tell,” Madison chimed in. “I heard you two went for a little stroll last night.”
I blushed. “Well, yeah, but he was just checking in on me, making sure I got settled.”
“He didn't check in on me,” Callie said with a frown.
“Sounds like someone has an admirer,” Crystle said. “So what did you two love birds talk about?”
“Nothing,” I said, a bit too quick, “just… stuff. You know, he told me to study hard, make friends. He said to tell you the same, Callie.” It was the least of the lies I was perpetrating and it seemed for the best.
“And did this nothing lead to kissing?” Crystle asked.
“No, no kissing,” I said. “But if we had… would that have been alright? He's not dating anyone? Like Kat?”
The three girls erupted in laughter and Callie and I exchanged a bewildered look.
“What's so funny?” I asked.
“Ember,” Bridget said, “Kat is gay.”
Heat colored my cheeks, both at my embarrassment for not having known and my relief that Taren wasn't dating the flame-haired goddess. So why hadn't he kissed me?
“Don't take it personally if he hasn't made a move,” Bridget said. “He's always been a bit of a loner, but lately you almost never see him with anyone, except maybe Kat and a few others from his Guard set.”
“Why is that?” I asked
“It started when his parents left,” Crystle answered. “His mom got called to help at another Gateway and his father went with her.”
“They're both Keepers?” I should have asked these girls about Taren last night. They were a wealth of information.
Crystle shook her head. “Just his mom. His dad is a Guardian. But it's not unusual for a Guardian married to a Keeper to request the same post.”
“So he just misses his parents?” It seemed an odd reason for Kat to be worried about him, or for him to need long walks in the woods.
Before they could answer, a girl no more than twelve approached our table. Her corn silk hair was pulled back in a French braid.
“Pardon me, are you Ember Lyons?”
“Yeah, I said, “can I help you?”
“Master Dogan wishes to speak with you,” the girl replied. “Instead of going to first period you are to follow me to his office.”
I looked around the table but was greeted with shrugs.
“Um, OK, sure.” I looked down at my untouched breakfast. “I can be ready now.” I grabbed my bagel and tore off a bite.
“Excellent, this way.”
The girl spoke with an authority beyond her years. I wondered what she was in training for.
“I'm Sarah, by the way,” she said as she led me through the dining hall and outside to one of the many paths that crisscrossed the property.
We exchanged pleasantries but I was too busy wondering what Master Dogan wanted to put much effort into it. Was he going to get on my case for not meditating? I tried to imagine him scolding me and it was completely incongruous with the man he seemed to be. Maybe he and Annys had realized how unprepared I was for all of the questions I'd be getting. I made a mental note to ask him what the appropriate response was to how I had remained sane for so long; though it was a definite improvement over the usual question of how I'd become so jaded so young.
***
Sarah led me back to the meditation yurt. It was empty and eerily silent as we made our way through the center of the room to a door in the back. Sarah gave a gentle knock.
“You may enter,” came Master Dogan's reply.
Upon opening the door I was greeted by the scent of sandalwood. Master Dogan's office seemed more of a Zen meditation space. Candles rested in ornate holders throughout the room, some of them lit even with the sun having risen. Cream-colored shades filtered the harshness of the sunlight, giving the place a feeling of warmth. A small fountain bubbled gently with water that flowed over black river rocks. In the center of the room was a large, low wooden table with eight sides. Cushions surrounded the table, and it seemed Master Dogan used it as a desk, for he sat at on cushion, a stack of papers in front of him, pen in hand. He smiled kindly at me.
“Good morning, Ember. I hope you slept well. Please, come in and sit down.” He gestured to a cushion across from him. “Thank you, Sarah, that will be all.”
Sarah made a slight bow and left the room, closing the door behind her.
I sat down cross-legged on the cushion he'd indicated.
“Would you care for some tea?” he asked, already pouring.
When I declined he sipped from the steaming cup. “Did you enjoy this morning's meditation?”
I knew it. Busted.
“I don't think I'm very good at it,” I said. “Sorry.”
“On the contrary, Ember, you did very well.”
Was he making fun of me? “But I couldn't even sit still until…”
“Until?”
“Well, until I zoned out, I said. “When I was trying to relax and breathe or whatever, I was hopeless.”
It seemed best to be honest. If I didn't belong here, it would be better to find out sooner rather than later.
“Tell me about this 'zoning out.'“ He peered at me over his teacup.
“I'm not sure how to explain it… it's something I started doing when I was a kid,” I said. “My mom gets on these rants sometimes. They can get pretty intense. And long. I needed a way to escape, but I was a kid. There was nowhere for me to go. So, I'd pick a spot—maybe on the ground, or my hand, or the sofa, and I'd just sort of… fall into it.”
If he thought that was odd he didn't show it. “And how do you feel when you do that?”
“I don't,” I said. “That's the point.”
“When you're in this place, this spot you've chosen, are you aware of what's going on around you?”
“Mostly. It’s like there’s this small part of me that’s paying attention, just enough to keep me out of trouble. I used to lose myself completely. Mom said I would just go catatonic sometimes and it freaked her out. She’d shake me and I’d come back, but wouldn’t remember anything she’d been saying. So I learned to control it—to pay just enough attention that I could respond appropriately, but still feel far enough away that nothing could touch me.”
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you mind demonstrating for me?”
I looked around for a moment. My gaze fell upon the polished wood of the table. There was an interesting knothole at the edge…
“Ember?” Master Dogan spoke from far away.
“Yes?”
Speaking simple words and phrases wasn't difficult, it was simply a matter of allowing the part of my brain that was still in the room to handle such rudimentary tasks. Similar to not having to think about breathing, feigning attention required little effort.
“Can you tell me two plus two?” He asked, his voice traveling down the knothole to reach me.
“Four,” I replied.
He rose from his cushion and walked behind me. There was a crash, but the sound was muted. I didn't flinch.
“Are you alright Master Dogan or was that a test?”
Instead of responding he passed his hand in front of my eyes, but not letting me see the knothole had the same impact as locking the door to a room that had been entered. I was already inside.
He went back to his cushion and sat. “Would you please come back now?”
I blinked rapidly and forced myself to become completely aware of my body, my surroundings.
“I'm here.”
“So you are,” he said, pleased. “That was quite impressive. To develop such an effective coping mechanism at such a young age—it probably saved your life, certainly your sanity.”
I frowned. “If I'm so well-adjusted, why did I try to kill myself?”
“You tell me,” he said.
I had walked right into that one. “I guess this was where you prove you're a real head shrinker?”
“No, this is where you tell me why someone as bright and capable as yourself would rob the world of your potential.”
There was nothing accusing in his tone, and I realized I wanted him to understand. Daemon or not, I was beginning to believe this man could help me.
“I just… wanted to be done,” I said. “I look at this world, and I think about me in it and it just feels…wrong. I see other people and they seem to get it—whatever it is that makes things make sense in this life—and I just don't. And I don't want to, because then I think I really would be crazy. I know to the rest of the world I seem nuts, but to me, they seem nuts—walking around living their lives, totally unaware that there is just something wrong here…” I struggled, unsure how to encapsulate all that had led up to that night. “I was just done trying.”
“And the voice you hear, it encouraged you to take the pills?”
Taren had told him about the Voice. I supposed it was his duty, I just wasn't used to my secrets being laid bare.
“Yeah. I mean, I'd thought about suicide even before I started hearing It, but the actual planning didn't start until recently.”
“So you planned and yet you didn't succeed,” he said.
“Yeah, which I've been trying to figure out since it happened. I really did want to die. So why did I take the pills before my mom had done her nightly check-in?”
“Maybe you wanted to be found out,” he offered.
I shook my head. “No, I'm telling you, I was done. I wanted out. I researched the meds online and went through the trouble of calculating what would be a lethal dose. Then the Voice—”
“The voice, what?” he asked.
“It urged me to start taking them—right then. It took up so much space in my head that I couldn't think of anything else. All logic was gone, I only felt pain and hopelessness. What had once been an option became the only solution, and I had to take action.”
Master Dogan just waited.
“But why? If the Voice I hear is demonic, why would it have urged me to take those pills when I'd be almost certain to survive it? Doesn't that prove It isn't evil? That it wanted me to live?”
“What if it did want you to live and it is evil? What if you are right where it wants you to be?”
“But why?” I said again. “I'm safe here. I haven't heard It since I arrived.”
“Ember, if you are what Annys and I believe you to be, you are connected to the Gateway in a very powerful way. As with all power, that connection can be used for good or ill. If this voice of yours had designs to use you, what better place than here, at the Gateway itself?”
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. “What do you think it wants me to do?”
Master Dogan was silent for a moment, then said, “We have reason to believe the demons are gaining strength and planning an invasion. I suspect they wish to use you for that end.”
He didn't know I'd been told about the breach, yet even admitting this much seemed difficult for him.
“Why do I only hear one Voice?” I asked. “Callie, the others, they hear several, right?”
“They do. I believe it to be due to your lineage. Over time, the imprisoned Daemons have gone through a de-evolution of sorts. Though the world they started with was an exact mirror of our own, and not meant to be a punishment, it is now a place of utter darkness. What was once an advanced society has become ruled by hatred and a lust for revenge. But what if not all of them have become such base creatures? With more and more troubled children to weed through, it has become difficult to find the marked ones in time. What if there are demons that have been biding their time, waiting for the proper time to strike?”
“And that time is now?” I failed to keep the fear from my voice.
“Once you marked yourself with that symbol, you made it known who and what you are. You put yourself on the radar, so to speak.”
I wanted to claw the ink from my shoulder blade. “What if I had it removed—layered off? Would that change anything?”
Master Dogan looked at me with sympathy. “I'm afraid not. Think of it like a radio wave. It knows your frequency now; has access to your thoughts. And with that comes the knowledge that you were not born with a symbol, and yet know it in its entirety, which makes you very valuable.”
“So I'm not a lost cause?” I had long since given up hope that I was going to make something of myself in this life.
“Ember, when was it that things took a turn for you? I don't mean your outside circumstances—I've read your file and know the difficulties you've faced: absent father, a mother who suffers from mental illness. I'm talking about when you stopped being determined to overcome those obstacles.”
I struggled against the sadness threatening to envelop me. For so long I'd soldiered on, fueled by the surety that one day I'd show them—anyone who had ever doubted me—but that had ceased being enough.
“I guess when I realized it was no use. That the life I wanted to create couldn't exist. Not in this world.”
“And why is that?”
“Because nothing good can survive here. Friends betray you, guys are creeps…”
Even as I said it I was aware I no longer fully believed it, not after all that had happened. Having met Callie, Master Dogan, Taren…
“And when was it, exactly, that you began to think that no one could be trusted?”
With that question, the pieces clicked into place. The Voice telling me when I was being gossiped about, when I would be betrayed—reveling in Its assurance that I didn't belong in this world and would finally be free if I just let go. It had told me, but I’d been the one eager to believe.
Then there was the failed suicide attempt, which had landed me in Windsor. And the Voice urging me to trust Taren, which ultimately had led me to go with him to see Callie, which in turn had caused us to be together when the attack happened. Our fleeing together was the sole reason Taren had found out about my tattoo, which had led me here, a mere two hundred yards from the doorway to a demonic dimension.
