Deadhouse Gates

A chain of corpses, hundreds of leagues long. No, it is all beyond me, beyond, I now believe, any of us . . .



He swung his horse around, eyes fixing on that yawning gate and the guards gathered there. They parted to form a path. Duiker tapped his heels into the mare's flanks.



He ignored the soldiers on the wall, even when the triumphant cry burst from them like a beast unchained.



Shadows flowed in silent waves over the barren hills. Apt's glittering eye scanned the horizon for a moment longer, then the demon dipped her elongated head to look down on the boy crouched beside her forelimb.



He too was studying Shadow Realm's eerie landscape, his own single, multifaceted eye glistening beneath the jutting brow ridge.



After a long moment he lifted his head and met her gaze. 'Mother,' he asked, 'is this home?'



A voice spoke from a dozen paces away. 'My colleague ever underestimates this realm's natural inhabitants. Ah, there is the child.'



The boy turned and watched the tall, black-clad man approach. 'Aptorian,' the stranger continued, 'your generous shaping of this lad – no matter how well-meant – will do naught but scar him within, in the years to come.'



Apt clicked and hissed a reply.



'Ah, but you have achieved the opposite, Lady,' the man said. 'For he now belongs to neither.'



The demon spoke again.



The man cocked his head, regarded her for a long moment, then half-smiled. 'Presumptuous of you.' His gaze fell to the boy. 'Very well.' He crouched. 'Hello.'



The boy returned the greeting shyly.



Casting a last irritated glance at Apt, the man offered the child his hand. 'I'm ... Uncle Cotillion—'



'You can't be,' the boy said.



'Oh, and why not?'



'Your eyes – they're different – so small, two fighting to see as one. I think they must be weak. When you approached, you walked through a stone wall and then the trees, rippling the ghost world as if ignorant of its right to dwell here.'



Cotillion's eyes widened. 'Wall? Trees?' He glanced up at Apt. 'Has his mind fled?'



The demon answered at length.



Cotillion paled. 'Hood's breath!' he finally muttered, and when he turned back to the child it was with an expression of awe. 'What is your name, lad?'



'Panek.'



'You possess one, then. Tell me, what else – apart from your name – do you recall of your ... other world?'



'I remember being punished. I was told to stay close to Father—'



'And what did he look like?'



'I don't remember. I don't remember any of their faces. We were waiting to see what they'd do with us. But then we were led away – the children – away. Soldiers pushed my father, dragged him in the opposite direction. I was supposed to stay close, but I went with the children. They punished me – punished all of the children – for not doing what we were told.'



Cotillion's eyes narrowed. 'I don't think your father had much choice, Panek.'



'But the enemy were fathers too, you see. And mothers and grandmothers – they were all so angry with us. They took our clothes. Our sandals. They took everything from us, they were so angry. Then they punished us.'



'And how did they do that?'



'They nailed us to crosses.'



Cotillion said nothing for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was strangely flat. 'You remember that, then.'



'Yes. And I promise to do as I'm told. From now on. Whatever Mother says. I promise.'



'Panek. Listen carefully to your uncle. You weren't punished for not doing what you were told. Listen – this is hard, I know, but try to understand. They hurt you because they could, because there was no-one there who was capable of stopping them. Your father would have tried – I'm sure he did. But, like you, he was helpless. We're here now, with you – your mother and Uncle Cotillion – we're here to make sure you'll never be helpless again. Do you understand?'



Panek looked up at his mother. She clicked softly.



'All right,' the boy said.



'We'll teach each other, lad.'



Panek frowned. 'What can I teach you?'



Cotillion grimaced. 'Teach me what you see ... here, in this realm. Your ghost world, the Shadow Hold that was, the old places that remain—'



'What you walk through unseeing.'



'Aye. I've often wondered why the Hounds never run straight.'



'Hounds?'



'You'll meet them sooner or later, Panek. Cuddly mutts, one and all.'