Splintered gates, p.26
Splintered Gates, page 26
She considered, her glow shifting back toward yellow. “Important job?”
“Very important.”
“Okay-yes. Thilly watch-guard. But Cal-friend come back soon, yes?”
“As soon as I can,” I promised.
Matthew smiled faintly. “Sprites have always been braver than their size suggests.”
Outside, the night sky held a peculiar quality—the stars seeming more distant, the darkness between them deeper. As if reality itself was already straining under Lang’s preparations.
We had three days to prevent a catastrophe most people wouldn’t understand until it consumed them. Three days to convince Mercer, navigate Agency politics, and stop a man whose nine-year obsession had corrupted his purpose beyond recognition.
The weight of that settled on my shoulders as we moved through quiet streets as reality was already straining around us. It was time to take my chances with Mercer and the Agency.
CHAPTER 23
“The threads that bind us to others are invisible until they’re pulled taut by circumstance. Only then do we see how deeply we’ve been woven into each other’s patterns.” —Elizabeth Drexler, personal journal
The Agency’s security doors had just closed behind us when Matthew stumbled, his newly bandaged wounds clearly still causing him pain.
“You need rest,” I told him, supporting his weight as we reached my car.
“Time we don’t have,” he muttered, though he didn’t resist as I helped him into the passenger seat.
Our meeting with Mercer had gone better than expected. She’d listened to Matthew’s testimony, examined the evidence, and authorized a preliminary response team for surveillance of Blackridge Valley. But her final instructions had been clear: no direct intervention until she’d verified Matthew’s claims through Agency channels.
“Twenty-four hours,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “That’s how long Mercer said verification would take.”
“For what? Waiting while Lang proceeds?” Matthew’s gold eyes flashed with frustration.
“For bringing Nadia into this. We need her expertise for the threadweaving components.”
Thilly had hidden in my jacket pocket, revealing herself to me just before I’d gone into the Agency meeting. Now she flitted nervously around the car. “Thread-lady will be angry-mad,” she warned. “Secret-telling about sister-lost.”
“I know. But she deserves the truth.”
Nadia was waiting in the hallway outside my apartment, leaning against the wall with deceptive casualness. Her violet eyes narrowed as she took in Matthew’s bandaged arms.
“You went to the Agency,” she said, not a question but an accusation. “After everything I told you, you took him directly to them.”
“We needed their resources,” I replied, unlocking my door. “And their authority to intervene.”
She followed us inside, maintaining careful distance from Matthew. The tension between them charged the air like an electrical storm building.
“And what did they promise?” she asked coolly. “The usual bureaucratic delays while Lang completes his preparations?”
“Surveillance of Blackridge Valley. Authorization for full response once they’ve verified his information.”
“Which will take how long?”
“Twenty-four hours. Maybe less.”
Nadia made a dismissive sound. “By which time Lang will have moved to the next phase.”
“There’s something you should know,” I said. “Something Matthew told me about Elena.”
Her body went completely still. “What about Elena?”
“He was there. When she was trapped too. Matthew was part of the original ritual team.”
Nadia turned slowly, her eyes finding Matthew. The look she gave him might have turned a lesser being to stone. “I know,” she said coldly. “I’ve always known.”
That wasn’t the response I’d expected. “You knew? And you still worked with him?”
“I work with whatever tools are necessary to find my sister. Even those I despise.”
Matthew met her gaze without flinching. “Tell him the rest. About why you’ve been so interested in his abilities from the beginning.”
Nadia’s expression hardened, but something cracked beneath the surface: Loss. Guilt. The kind that doesn’t heal.
“Five years, three months, and seventeen days,” she said. “That’s how long Elena has been trapped. Not nine years like James. My sister was part of a later experiment, one of Lang’s attempts to reach his son.”
Her voice caught. “She was twenty-three. She volunteered because she believed in the research.” Nadia’s hand pressed against her sternum as if holding something in place. “Because I encouraged her to. I told her it was a good opportunity. That she’d be helping people.”
The weight of that admission hung in the air. Not just loss, but the guilt she’d carried for five years.
“Everything I’ve done since—every connection I’ve traced, every boundary I’ve studied—has been to undo my mistake.”
“Including working with me,” I said, the realization settling like a stone. “You sought me out because I could help you access Lang’s circles.”
“Yes.” No hesitation, no apology. Just stark truth. “Initially.”
In our world, everyone had angles, hidden motivations.
“And now?” I asked.
“Now it’s... more complicated.” Her gaze dropped before returning to mine. “I didn’t anticipate you. The way you perceive energy patterns. The way you’ve taken to the techniques I’ve shown you.”
There was vulnerability in her admission. And despite everything—the manipulation, the knowing I should maintain professional distance—I felt my judgment clouding. The kiss we’d shared, the growing pull I felt toward her, made it harder to think clearly about what she was saying.
The threadweaving lessons she’d given me had been part of a larger plan.
“You could have told me everything so much sooner. About your real interest in Lang’s operation. It would have made this… I don’t know. Better.”
“Would you have helped me if I had? The Agency would have shut down any attempt to open a gateway, regardless of purpose.”
“So instead you let me stumble around in the dark while you used my access and abilities to further your own agenda.”
“I did what was necessary for Elena.” Her voice cracked, and this time she let it. “You don’t know what it’s like, Cal. Every night, I see the thread that connects us. It’s this shimmering line stretching into darkness. She’s still there. Still alive. Still waiting for me to find her.”
She pressed her palm harder against her chest. “Every day that passes, that thread grows thinner. I can feel it fraying. And I know—I know—that one day I’ll wake up and it will be gone, and my sister will have died alone in a demon realm because I told her to volunteer for a research project.”
Her eyes glistened but she didn’t look away. “So, yes. I used you. I would use anyone. I would burn down the entire Agency if it meant bringing her home.”
The raw desperation in her voice silenced any response I might have made.
I wanted to be angry. I should have been furious—she'd manipulated me from the start, used my abilities, my access, my growing feelings for her as tools in her personal crusade. But watching her now, palm pressed against her chest where that fraying thread connected her to Elena, I couldn't separate my judgment from something messier. The kiss we'd shared. The way her eyes softened when she looked at me. Were those manipulations too, or had they surprised her as much as they'd surprised me?
That uncertainty bothered me more than the betrayal itself.
“There’s a difference between determination and reckless endangerment,” I finally said. “Lang’s modified ritual threatens catastrophic reality collapse. Millions could die.”
“Which is why we need to modify it, not stop it,” she said, stepping closer. “Lang’s basic framework is sound. The convergent gateway approach creates enough stability for controlled extraction. The flaws are in his implementation, his power source.”
I stared at her. “You want to let the ritual proceed?”
“With modifications. The anniversary creates optimal conditions for cross-realm contact. We may not get another chance like this for years.”
“It’s too dangerous. The margin for error is nonexistent.”
“That’s why we need Matthew,” she said. “And why I need you.”
Matthew straightened on the couch. “You’re suggesting we help Lang complete his ritual? After I risked everything to stop it?”
“Not complete it as designed. Modify it. Replace the boundary walker sacrifice component with framework that utilizes your abilities without consuming them.”
Thilly darted between them. “No more old-walkers burning! Better way, yes!”
“It would require fundamental changes to the ritual’s core structure,” Matthew said. “With less than three days to implementation.”
“And it would require your cooperation again,” I told him. “Working alongside a threadweaver. And to make it clear, yes, I’m suggesting we help James and Elena while preventing Lang from destroying reality.”
Nadia moved to the diagrams, which were spread across my dining table. “A hybrid approach that utilizes boundary walker stabilization without sacrifice as fuel.”
“The design would need to integrate threadweaving connection mapping,” Matthew said, joining us but maintaining distance from Nadia. “To establish clean extraction pathways without weakening overall boundary structure.”
“And Lang?” I asked. “He’s unlikely to welcome modifications.”
“We don’t need his cooperation,” Nadia said. “Only access to his site at the critical moment.”
Matthew nodded. It was perhaps the first time he’d ever agreed with her. “The power circles can be modified without disrupting the main framework. He wouldn’t detect changes until activation.”
“The Agency won’t officially sanction this,” I pointed out.
“Which is why I avoid institutions,” Nadia replied. “They prioritize protocols over people.”
“But we’ll need resources. Equipment, access, tactical support.”
“I have connections outside official channels. And you have Agency credentials. Between us, we can assemble what we need.”
“Before we go further,” I said, “I need to understand your conflict. What makes collaboration so difficult?”
Matthew and Nadia exchanged glances—reluctant accord.
“Show him,” Matthew said. “He needs to see the full picture.”
Nadia moved to stand before me. “Close your eyes. Remember what I taught you about extending awareness beyond physical space.”
I did as instructed. She’d shown me how to shift perception to include subtle energy connections between objects, people, and spaces.
“Good.” Her voice came closer. “I’m going to help you see what a threadweaver sees.”
Her fingers touched my temples, and then I felt a surge of energy—not invasive, but expansive. As if my consciousness was being stretched to encompass new dimensions.
When I opened my eyes, the world had transformed. Shimmering threads of varying colors connected everything, pulsing with life. Some were thick and vibrant, others gossamer-thin. They extended between objects, through walls, and between the three of us.
The connection between Nadia and me was a complex weave of purple and silver, with darker strands of distrust now threaded through. Matthew was connected to both of us by thinner lines of tentative alliance, and to Nadia by ancient, scarred connections pulsing with historical conflict.
Most remarkable was one particular thread from Nadia that shimmered with unusual intensity, stretching away into what seemed like an entirely different plane. It pulsed with desperate love and terrible grief, a lifeline she refused to release no matter how much it cost her.
“Elena,” I said, instinctively knowing.
But there was something else—fainter, woven into the boundary between realms themselves. For just a moment, I sensed a presence like golden-blue light, like music between worlds. Lysienne. The Bridge who had sacrificed herself at City Plaza. She wasn't gone—she had become part of the barriers she'd died to protect. The recognition lasted only a heartbeat before it faded, but it left me with an unexpected comfort: some sacrifices didn't end in absence. They transformed into something lasting.
“Yes.” Her voice was raw. “The connection between sisters can’t be severed by dimensional barriers. I feel her, Cal. Every moment of every day. Sometimes I think I can almost hear her calling for me.”
She lowered her hands, and the enhanced perception gradually faded.
“Threadweavers observe and manipulate these connections,” she explained. “We perceive reality as a web of threads linking all things, including across dimensions.”
“But they remain outside the system they manipulate,” Matthew added. “Observing from a distance, pulling strings without experiencing consequences directly.”
“While boundary walkers physically embody transitional spaces,” Nadia continued. “They exist partially in multiple realms simultaneously.”
“Different approaches to the same reality,” I summarized. “And your conflict arose when both groups tried to control interdimensional transit points.”
“Threadweavers created monitoring systems,” Matthew said. “Which we dismantled.”
“Because your rigid frameworks ignored natural boundary fluctuations,” Nadia snapped.
I raised a hand. “I get it. But right now, we need both perspectives.” I turned to Nadia. “Your mapping abilities can create the exact extraction pathway needed.” Then to Matthew, I said, “And your direct experience ensures those pathways remain stable.”
Thilly darted between us, her glow shifting to determined green. “Working together better than fighting!”
They exchanged skeptical glances. But the stakes were too high for historical grudges.
“For Elena,” I said to Nadia, then to Matthew, “And for your fellow boundary walkers.”
Nadia nodded slowly. “I can work with him.”
“Good. Now, there’s something else. If we’re going to integrate these approaches, I need more advanced threadweaving techniques. The basics were helpful, but this requires deeper integration. I need to translate between your methods and Matthew’s.”
She studied me. “It’s possible. You’ve shown aptitude.”
“Is that safe?” Matthew asked. “Morphs absorb energies they interact with. Threadweaving patterns are complex, alien to human magical structures.”
“I can handle it. And we don’t have time for better options.”
Nadia moved closer. “There’s something else you should know. Something that might make you reconsider helping me.”
“What?”
“I’ve been using you, yes. But not just for Agency access.” She took a breath. “Morphs have a unique relationship with threadweaving energies. Your ability to absorb and redirect magical patterns makes you particularly compatible with advanced techniques. It’s why the exercises came naturally.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning I suspected from the beginning that you might help me establish a direct connection to Elena. A tether strong enough to guide extraction.”
I felt a chill. “You want to use me as a conduit?”
“Not use. Work with. Your morphing abilities, combined with advanced threadweaving, could create a stable channel that neither Matthew nor I could establish alone.”
Matthew stepped forward. “That would place Cal at the center of the ritual. The point of maximum energy exposure.”
“And maximum risk,” I added. “But I’ve done something like this before.”
Nadia didn’t deny it. “Yes. And it gives you maximum control. If something goes wrong, you’d be in position to absorb and redirect the surge.”
“Or be consumed by it,” Matthew warned.
Thilly fluttered nervously. “Cal-friend strong, but demon-magic hungry-dangerous. Eat morphs first, yes.”
I moved away, needing space.
I couldn’t dismiss the genuine anguish I’d seen when she spoke of Elena. The crack in her voice. The way her hand pressed against her chest as if physically holding onto that fraying thread.
“I need to know everything,” I said finally. “No more strategic omissions. If we’re working together, complete transparency from both of you.”
Nadia nodded slowly. “You’ll have it.”
“As will you from me,” Matthew agreed.
“Then let’s get to work. We have to redesign a ritual Lang spent years developing, integrate opposing magical philosophies that haven’t collaborated in centuries, and gain access to a secured ritual site at exactly the right moment.”
“While preventing reality collapse,” Matthew added.
“And saving Elena and James,” Nadia finished. Her voice was steady now, but I could see the desperate hope beneath for the sister who had spent five years, three months, and seventeen days counting every hour until she could undo Elena’s imprisonment.
“I have access to a facility in the warehouse district,” Nadia offered. “Off official monitoring grids.”
“I can provide technical specifications for Lang’s ritual components,” Matthew said. “The designs I helped develop.”
Thilly darted excitedly around us. “Thilly help too! See energy-flows others can’t see!”
The three of us stood in triangle formation, an unlikely alliance born of necessity. Morning light streamed through my windows, illuminating dust motes that danced between us like visual representations of the threads Nadia could see, the boundaries Matthew could feel.
“Let’s identify every point where modifications won’t destabilize the core framework. And from there…”
From there, we figure out how I was going to stop everything.
