Read Online Ghost of Doors (City of Doors) by Jennifer Paetsch - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Paetsch
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all the way down. "This map just shows what my father found there, but not how to get there."
"You'll get there, if it wants you," Pilgrim answered, his ears flicking at the unseen.
Marie nodded. "You won't find it. It will find you."
It was aware. That also made sense, considering that, on some level, the city was also aware. It had to be in order to respond to the magic of the portals and the denizens. There is no magic in a dead land. He drew out the knife that his father had given him. It gleamed with an otherworldly light in the orange of the setting sun. "It will be dark soon," he said, sheathing it and adjusting it so it could easily be drawn. "I hope we can find the door before then. Pilgrim, the fence?"
Stepping back to give himself enough room, Pilgrim launched himself at the gate and flew over it easily. Wolfgang had seen him leap like that before, and it was like he could really fly, so long had he hung suspended by nothing, gliding through the air. "Which way?" Marie asked when they landed. Wolfgang pointed off into the distance, and Pilgrim followed his hand. As the trees began to change from green and brown to black, and the mist thickened as if to hide any path, white figures stood out ahead, light enough to be clearly seen but at the same time dull, as if made of bone. Wolfgang paused for a moment. "What do you think that is?" he whispered. Marie shrugged, not daring to speak. Literally disappearing into the mist after dismounting, Marie most likely went ahead to investigate while Wolfgang slipped off of Pilgrim and stepped forward toward the gleaming. As he got closer, he realized the white things up ahead were a pair, but that they did not move as he had first thought--that had been purely a trick of the fog. Not too long after, Marie reappeared beside him, scaring him to death. "We might want to go back," she said.
"Why?" he asked when he found his breath. He was almost to them now himself and curiosity was getting the better of him. "What are they?"
"Just statues, but--"
"Statues?" he repeated as if disbelieving. He didn't doubt her. But if she thought that knowledge would make him somehow less curious, she was sadly mistaken. It did the opposite. "Why wouldn't I want to check out some statues? Maybe they're important, or interesting."
"Oh," Marie said in a hushed, breathy voice. "They're interesting all right."
Wolfgang saw what she meant. From this distance, he could clearly make out that one was a man, bent over, his insides trailing out onto the misty ground, his face locked in a scream. But not just any face, he realized the closer he got.
It was a statue of him.
The second statue was equally gruesome. It was a woman with her eyes gouged out, one eye in each hand as if she had ripped them out herself. It was Marie. It had been difficult to tell because of the way the face was contorted in pain. Wolfgang got up the nerve to touch his statue, and was surprised to feel that it crumbled away as if made from some soft material, like salt, or ash. "Is this a warning," he asked Marie, "or a premonition?"
Marie shook her head. "I was only in the No Man's Land once before, Wolfgang, and that sure wasn't because I wanted to be. And I never saw anything like this."
"Well," he said, "They're just statues, right?"
Marie shrugged again. "You mean, what's the point? Why would someone make statues of us instead of just attacking us?"
"I meant that they're harmless, but when you put it that way... Someone did have to make these, didn't they?" Wolfgang did not like what that implied.
"Unless the land did it by itself," Pilgrim offered.
Wolfgang thought for a moment and adjusted his glasses before replying. "If something intelligent made these, then it wants us to be scared. It finds that more fun than attacking us outright."
Marie stared at her statue as if she expected it to come alive at any moment. "Something that feeds off of fear. Something that grows stronger from it. A demon," she whispered
"You'll get there, if it wants you," Pilgrim answered, his ears flicking at the unseen.
Marie nodded. "You won't find it. It will find you."
It was aware. That also made sense, considering that, on some level, the city was also aware. It had to be in order to respond to the magic of the portals and the denizens. There is no magic in a dead land. He drew out the knife that his father had given him. It gleamed with an otherworldly light in the orange of the setting sun. "It will be dark soon," he said, sheathing it and adjusting it so it could easily be drawn. "I hope we can find the door before then. Pilgrim, the fence?"
Stepping back to give himself enough room, Pilgrim launched himself at the gate and flew over it easily. Wolfgang had seen him leap like that before, and it was like he could really fly, so long had he hung suspended by nothing, gliding through the air. "Which way?" Marie asked when they landed. Wolfgang pointed off into the distance, and Pilgrim followed his hand. As the trees began to change from green and brown to black, and the mist thickened as if to hide any path, white figures stood out ahead, light enough to be clearly seen but at the same time dull, as if made of bone. Wolfgang paused for a moment. "What do you think that is?" he whispered. Marie shrugged, not daring to speak. Literally disappearing into the mist after dismounting, Marie most likely went ahead to investigate while Wolfgang slipped off of Pilgrim and stepped forward toward the gleaming. As he got closer, he realized the white things up ahead were a pair, but that they did not move as he had first thought--that had been purely a trick of the fog. Not too long after, Marie reappeared beside him, scaring him to death. "We might want to go back," she said.
"Why?" he asked when he found his breath. He was almost to them now himself and curiosity was getting the better of him. "What are they?"
"Just statues, but--"
"Statues?" he repeated as if disbelieving. He didn't doubt her. But if she thought that knowledge would make him somehow less curious, she was sadly mistaken. It did the opposite. "Why wouldn't I want to check out some statues? Maybe they're important, or interesting."
"Oh," Marie said in a hushed, breathy voice. "They're interesting all right."
Wolfgang saw what she meant. From this distance, he could clearly make out that one was a man, bent over, his insides trailing out onto the misty ground, his face locked in a scream. But not just any face, he realized the closer he got.
It was a statue of him.
The second statue was equally gruesome. It was a woman with her eyes gouged out, one eye in each hand as if she had ripped them out herself. It was Marie. It had been difficult to tell because of the way the face was contorted in pain. Wolfgang got up the nerve to touch his statue, and was surprised to feel that it crumbled away as if made from some soft material, like salt, or ash. "Is this a warning," he asked Marie, "or a premonition?"
Marie shook her head. "I was only in the No Man's Land once before, Wolfgang, and that sure wasn't because I wanted to be. And I never saw anything like this."
"Well," he said, "They're just statues, right?"
Marie shrugged again. "You mean, what's the point? Why would someone make statues of us instead of just attacking us?"
"I meant that they're harmless, but when you put it that way... Someone did have to make these, didn't they?" Wolfgang did not like what that implied.
"Unless the land did it by itself," Pilgrim offered.
Wolfgang thought for a moment and adjusted his glasses before replying. "If something intelligent made these, then it wants us to be scared. It finds that more fun than attacking us outright."
Marie stared at her statue as if she expected it to come alive at any moment. "Something that feeds off of fear. Something that grows stronger from it. A demon," she whispered
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