Page 132 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
It turned into an exceptional Beltane Eve. By the time they departed in the early hours before dawn, the Greymarch and Eideris kingdoms had committed troops, however small their numbers, for the Choosing CeremonyifTyghan promised to show up and claim the throne. He couldn’t reveal that by then it might be his brother claiming it, but he didn’t think they would care which Trénallis brother showed up, as long as it wasn’t Kormick ruling over them. Besides the commitment of troops, the queen of Gildawey had inexplicably agreed to step up production so that every knight in Danu would now carry a Gildan long sword before week’s end.
But even with the positive turnaround, Kormick’s show of power weighed on Tyghan. He still saw the endless army of restless dead, waiting to descend on them like a cloud of locusts and pick their bones clean.This is a prickly situation, isn’t it?Kormick had enjoyed watching them stand there, slack-jawed and silent, so obviously defenseless. Rescues and weapons were all for naught if the portal to the Abyss wasn’t closed.
On the way to Tyghan’s farm, in the Wilds just south of Timbercrest, was a little-used portal. King Roderick wouldn’t like it, but it was the one least likely to be missed—or noticed—by Kormick. It couldn’t be put off any longer. It was time to give Bristol a real portal to practice on.
CHAPTER 89
The sky was still a deep purple, lavender just beginning to frost the tops of the distant tree line. Forest air full of mist dampened Bristol’s hair.
Like all portals, the one in the Wilds beyond the border of Timbercrest was invisible. It was charted and mapped centuries ago, and most of those in Elphame knew its location—except for newcomers like Bristol. Everyone was overjoyed when she led them directly to it.
She couldn’t exactly explain it, the how or why of finding it. It was nothing like the burrows. With them there was sound—the whisper of wind, the chatter of birds, or the gurgle of an unseen brook.
The portal today didn’t whisper, sing, or chatter. It pulled. Bristol didn’t understand it at first, the heaviness in her chest that grew to an ache. She mistook it for something else. A sadness, an unexpected longing, the kind of melancholy that crept up on her on lonely nights. Maybe it wasn’t this way for all bloodmarked—maybe only for her—because she longed for her old world in a way she had never expected to. The familiar called to her. Small-town streets, cold pizza, traffic, stupid cell phones that rarely worked—the need to be there for her sisters to keep everything from unraveling. She slid from her horse, drawn toward a glade in the forest, and the others followed close behind.
“Here,” she whispered, still uncertain, at least in her head, but somewhere else inside her was certainty.Here.The ache behind her sternum tightened, a fist squeezing bone. And then she knew—she was only a step away from home. Maybe not Bowskeep home, but the mortal world she knew, the world that held her past and all the secrets that had created her.
She put her hand to the air in front of her, and Tyghan grabbed her arm, holding her back. “Careful,” he warned as she pressed her palm forward. A shiver of light cut through the air, like the sun peeking through a drawn curtain, and then it spread wider, revealing an enormous portal. A long alleyway with a busy city laid out just past its end rippled into focus. It might have been New York, Chicago, or some other big city she had never visited, but it was familiar—the mortal world—tall buildings, concrete, cars, streetlights. The world where her sisters were. The ache inside her pinched tighter.
It was only then that she heard the excitement erupt behind her. She had found the portal on her own. The ache receded as relief flooded in, and then a heady sense of control washed over her, control over something,anything.Power.It warmed her blood and tingled her fingertips.
Tyghan kept a firm grip on her arm, and she realized it was so she wouldn’t accidentally tumble through the portal.Her timemark.She didn’t have it with her. She jerked her hand back to her side, and the seductive warmth vanished from her temples.
“You found it!” Rose cheered, bringing Bristol back to what she had accomplished.
Hollis clapped her hands. “We knew you could!”
“Well done,” Julia added.
The sky had lightened with the dawn, the joy easily seen in their faces.
“Now,” Madame Chastain said, tempering the cheer, “let’s see if you can close it.”
Because that was really all that mattered—the whole reason she was here.
Bristol nodded to Tyghan. “You can let go. I’m all right.”
He reluctantly released her arm, but looked ready to spring if she should lose her balance. People did tumble through portals accidentally, maybe the way her father had as a toddler.
She lifted her hand again, her palm flat, the portal visible once more. Power surged through her, the heady sensation returning. A thousand bees hummed in her blood, hot, eager, addictive. The burrows weren’t anything like this. She thought about how she had closed them, pushing and tugging at the edges. This portal was far too large for that, wide enough for three horses to gallop through, and far taller than she could reach. What should she do? It had to be possible. The Darkland monster had closed dozens of them in one day.
She swiped her hand one way and then another. Whispered multiple spells.Duseen o duras nay tulay—May this door be no more.
Nothing.
She tried again, with the same result.
She closed her eyes and pressed both of her hands to the portal opening. Light streamed through her closed lids, circling her hands, warm and alive, traveling up her arms like it was reaching out to meet her. Like it knew her. She concentrated. The hum rose in her gut. The burn. She called on the powers of Brigid, claiming them as her own. Seconds ticked by. Heat glowed on her skin. Sweat trickled down her back. She was certain she had it. She was close. She rapidly brought both hands together, the way she summoned fire.
Nothing.
Not a hint of closure.
She returned her hands to her sides. Rolled her stiff shoulders. Wiped damp strands of hair from her face.
She focused on the ground, unable to look at anyone.The tick, she thought. Was the ugly beast holding back her power? And on the heels of that thought, she imagined her parents placing it there, on the tender skin of a baby. Her concentration scattered.
Tyghan gently stroked her back. “It’s all right. We can try later.”
