The Gateway: The Travelers, #2

By K. L. Kranes

Find soul mate…check.

Harness the power of the Wiccan gods…check.

Defeat the evil First Traveler…check.

Live a normal life…maybe not.

Dagny and Marc are done with destiny. After defeating the First Traveler, they want to leave the Wiccan world behind. But as they settle back into the routine of high school, it seems destiny has other plans.

Prophetic dreams, a secret cult and a stranger calling himself the Guardian force Dagny and Marc to face the truth. Channeling the powers of the gods comes with a price and the gods have come to collect. Now Dagny and Marc must choose between each other and the path the gods have written, a path leading to a mysterious gateway that if opened will shatter the Wiccan world.

Their love survived the threat of an ancient witch, but can it survive the will of the gods?

In this story of love, betrayal and magic, no one is safe and there is no such thing as destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Saguaro Books, LLC
• Release date: Jan 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393496960

K. L. Kranes

K.L. Kranes lives in the Washington, DC metro area with her husband, daughter and dog. When not writing fiction, K.L. is a freelance editor.  

Book preview

Prologue

He stopped in the shadow of a slanting wall. Above, the shimmering White Temple grazed the clouds.

The ground rippled under his feet, a warning sign from nature itself. He crouched down and pushed off, bounding up the side in ten leaps. When he reached the platform at the top, a hot wind rose and beat at his bare chest. It smelled of death.

He paused. The perfection of the temple always made him pause—a perfect rectangular structure with long, columns and triangles cut into each side. Perfect, because it was made by gods.

He summoned his courage and marched toward the twin entrance doors, each one flanked with a carving—on the left, the goddess, on the right, the god. Their hands both rested on fierce-eyed animal companions. A black stone with a serpent symbol shone on each animal’s chest.

He entered through the left doorway, brushing past the reliefs with his thick shoulders. His gut wrenched as he stepped inside, tugging at the shards of his humanity.

At the center of the temple, four beams of yellow sunlight converged on the goddess, who glowed as if on fire. She stood in front of the raised throne seats, around which children had once scurried.

Her embroidered linen dress was sticky with blood. Hundreds of bodies soaked red covered the floor in a wide circle. Some twitched in the last throes of death.

Bile rose in his throat. Ena, he croaked.

Her eyes jerked to the side when she heard him whisper her name. Her long golden hair swayed.

Brother Guardian, my first creation, you’ve come home.

He despised how her voice exuded warmth as her children lay slaughtered at her feet.

In the corner, an animal-shaped shadow moved. Detaching from the glistening white walls, it stepped into the light and turned into a woman with stone colored skin as dark as ash and curly black hair. A worn tunic skimmed the tops of her legs and knotted at the back of her neck. His chest warmed.

Your sister has arrived as well, Ena said to him. Welcome Sister Guardian. I am glad both guardians are here to bask in the glory of this day. Have you seen my husband? He seems to have disappeared.

The muscles in Sister’s leg tensed as she stepped over bodies and disappeared into the darkest corner of the temple. Moments later, she re-emerged with a being who glowed silver.

Aeo, husband, why have you been hiding? Ena asked.

Sister guided Aeo over the piles of bodies. He walked with his back bent. His night-black hair grazed the floor as he stared at the destruction of his children.

Ena cocked her head to the side, with a curious look. Aeo, my love, my soul, do not be alarmed. 

What have you done? Aeo said.

What I must to save nature and us.

This is too many.

It must be all of them. We can let none survive, Ena said, opening her arms as if to welcome him. It is for the best. We should never have created them.

Sister laid her hand on Aeo’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. Aeo straightened, unfurling his chest until he was tall enough to pluck dates from a young tree. His wide shoulders shook with agony as he let out a piercing scream; the kind of scream that made mountains tremble. The kind of scream only gods could create.

Brother. The word floated through the air and landed only in Brother’s ear. Get the stones.

Brother didn’t want to do this. Even as the blood of hundreds stained the mud brick floors, he couldn’t imagine this sacrifice, not his sister.

Now, Sister commanded.

Brother bowed his head, deferring to her as he’d done since they were created. Slowly, he backed out of the temple.

He squinted against the sharp rays of the setting sun and dug his fingers into the chests of the animal reliefs. The cemented black stones pulled free as if they were waiting for him and molded into his palms.

What are you doing? he heard Ena say, when he stepped back inside.

When Brother’s eyes adjusted to the darker light, he realized she was not speaking to him. She aimed the question at her husband, Aeo.

Aeo raised his hand and pointed at Ena. A thin bolt of white-flame fire shot out of Aeo’s fingers. It coiled around Ena, twisting and wrapping her up from her shoulders to her feet. She struggled as the fire licked at her skin but did not burn her. 

Darling, set me free, she said, as if this were a playful game.

Aeo did not respond. He turned his hand and the rope of flames tethered to his fingers tightened. Ena let out a small gasp as a look of disbelief passed across the perfect curvature of her face. It was a goddess’ face. So beautiful, many fell dead at the sight of her.

Ena’s bright golden hair whipped wildly around her. Her angry snaking locks bit and pulled at the rope.

Sister dragged her eyes away from the goddess and drew a small, sharp blade from inside her tunic. She knelt down and dug the tip into the mud floor at Aeo’s feet, slashing until he stood at the center of a five-pointed star.

When she completed the symbol, the ground trembled.

Ena’s yellow eyes widened and she released a screech so sharp it penetrated Brother’s bones. Ena made Brother from her own blood. He could not escape their connection. He felt her shock and her ire as if it were his own.

Ena closed her eyes as if resigned to her fate. Brother knew better.

White-hot energy shot out from Ena’s chest, sending blinding light in all directions. Brother ducked his head into the crook of his arm to shade himself. A blast of heat singed the hairs on his body, as if touched by the sun.

When Brother looked up, he watched as the silver rope loosened and fell to the ground at Ena’s feet, evaporating in a mist of smoke.

Without hesitating, Aeo shot out another blast, thicker and longer. It curled around Ena, weaving tightly up her body, pinning her inside a gleaming gray cocoon. Brother thought of a fly trapped in a spider’s web.

Stop this now, Ena cried out.

She wriggled within the binding. Brother sensed it would not hold her for long. The goddess and god had equal but different power. They would never be able to destroy each other. Brother understood now why his sister told him to retrieve the stones. This was the only way.

Sister turned to Aeo, her chest puffed out; a soldier ready to become a sacrifice. Aeo’s outstretched arm glowed with the same silver color as the rope. Thick and hard with muscle, it looked to be made of the moon itself.

Without releasing Ena from his tether, Aeo touched Sister’s forehead with his own, a loving farewell.

Brother looked away, unable to watch. He gritted his teeth and stared back through the doorway until his sister cried out in pain.

He snapped his head around in time to watch as Aeo dug his fingers into the center of Sister’s chest. Despite the pain, she did not move. She clenched her fists, her face strained, and her mouth opened, releasing a terrible, feral sound.

No, Brother screamed.

Sister turned her pinched face to him and sent her last whisper. Guard the gates.

Aeo’s fingers pressed further into Sister’s chest until his whole fist disappeared. When he pulled it out, in his fingers dangled a clump of heart, lung and bone dripping with blood. Sister teetered on her feet before collapsing to the floor.

Tears streamed down Aeo’s face. The rock in Brother’s left hand grew hot. He squeezed it tight and let it burn his palm. Farewell, Sister, he thought, I am the only one now. I cannot bend to sorrow.

Large cracks shot up the sides of the temple. Ena again threw off her chains and Aeo wound another around her, using his gleaming rope to pull her close to him. She would throw them off faster every time as she adjusted to Aeo’s power. He needed to move quickly.

Aeo held up his left hand and crushed the pieces of Sister’s heart in his fist. He dropped his arm and the bloody entrails fell out of his fingers. As each piece landed on the ground, a wave of light rippled outward. The pentagram at Aeo’s feet began to glow with a dark, empty light.

Aeo held up his bloody palm. His skin separated from his wrist down to his elbow. Blood streamed out and splashed onto Sister’s crumpled body.  The ground between Aeo’s feet cracked open into a bleak, black hole. Aeo straddled it and reeled Ena closer. Ena’s eyes flared with anger as she fought. Her feet dragged across the mud floor, leaving two distinct creases.

Brother Guardian, help me, she cried.

The desperation pinched at his heart. Brother clutched the stones in his palms, waiting. He would not help her, not anymore.

A wild wind funneled up out of the hole. The tornado whipped around the room tossing bodies across the floor. Outside thunder cracked and lightning hurtled across the sky.

I will not go back, Ena screamed, as Aeo dragged her to within arm’s length.

Aeo reached out and took hold of her. Ena bucked and struggled. Light pulsed from inside her, a tiny spark that would not catch. Aeo loosened the rope enough to free the top of her arm. Sprouting a clawed nail from his finger, he pierced her skin. A single drop of blood trailed down her arm, dangled on her elbow and fell toward the black hole.

This is not the end, she said, as the hole widened. It grew out from Aeo’s feet and, in a flash, consumed them.

Brother blinked and they were gone.

Lightning struck the roof of the temple, exploding it into a cascade of rubble.

Alone now, Brother stood, stunned, knowing he needed the temple to remain standing until he could finish this, for his sister. He gripped her stone. Aeo had opened a gate and now it must be sealed. If not, it would shrink and cave inward, collapsing the entire world into oblivion.

As the left side of the head crumbled, a piece of stone flew out and struck his head. Brother staggered until his knees buckled and he pitched forward onto the ground. Crashing meteors of rubble caused the ground to tremble around him. Digging his fingers into the floors, he dragged himself to the hole, now the size of a pebble.

Gathering the last of his strength, Brother launched his body across the quaking ground and slammed his sister’s stone down just as the tiny hole disappeared. A burst of energy shot out, tossing him and the ruins of the temple outward to the edges of the earth.

Chapter 1

Marc

The word fluttered by. ‘Prophecy’.

Found you, I muttered.

The thick letters blurred, bristling at being caught. The word jumped to the right, twisting around a picture of an old woman holding an apple before punching through a Wiccan symbol for water.

Guess you’re more of a fire fan? Or wind, maybe? I briefly wondered why I was having a one-way conversation with a mostly inanimate object. I blamed lack of sleep.

I dodged the debris and ignored my headache. Weaving through the multimedia experience of the Occolta Atheneum took patience and strength. After hours chasing a word the way a fox chases a rabbit, I had little of both.

The magical Aradnian library was nothing like a normal library. It was more a video game in my head. One where someone took every story, idea, image and sensation and shoved them into a blender. Winning meant finding a single piece of information in the whirling chaos.

‘Prophecy’ dove into an area thick with data. I clenched my teeth and stayed close behind, ignoring the tug of magic at my back.

New, forbidden text and images flashed and throbbed. Part of me wanted to give up my pursuit and suck up as much information as possible.

Binding Spell Enhancements. A diagram of dragon’s breath. The Secret History of the Great Schism.

I’d never gotten this deep before. My other visits to the Occolta Atheneum contained teasers, the free version of the video game. To reach the next levels I had to pay to play and payment came in the form of becoming an official Aradnian.

Although I was born into the tribe and received my powers when I turned seventeen, to be a member I had to join the Aradnian Church. Not likely to happen. I wasn’t homicidal enough. 

The library quaked, rattling and bucking, trying to kick me out. Magical barriers pressed against the edges of my mind, slowing me down. ‘Prophecy’ sped further into the thicket.

You’re not getting away. I need to know the truth.

My invisible fingers thrust out in one last attempt to grab it. The word bent inward, slanting into italics to avoid me. I latched onto the letter Y. It broke off and a shriek pierced my ears.

‘Prophec’ disappeared into the darkness.

I held onto to ‘Y’.

A story rocketed into my brain, a sledgehammer that severed my grip on the library but not my grip on the information.

I fell off my chair, landing with a thump on my bedroom floor.

The ache in my head morphed into a sharp pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding onto the invisible broken chunk of the word the way people hold onto old memories.

The script from an ancient book, written by hand on leathery paper, scrolled across the backs of my eyelids and sunk into my brain.

6000 years ago...

Chapter 2

Dagny

Thick soil sucked at my feet, slowing me down. My legs felt heavier than stone.

Nearby the river rumbled. Behind me a sea of grain stalks ended where the blue sky met the brown walls of the city. A distant scream echoed through the air.

Shaking my head, I kept moving. The delicate barley turned into thick, towering palm trees. As I stumbled toward the river, the air snapped. The earth trembled. The sun found me through the canopy. The four pillars of magic reached out to me.

Ahead where the trees melted into the water, I saw the wisp of a figure. My breath filled with hope. Stepping into a ray of light, the figure formed into a man with the head of a black animal. He lifted his hand, calling me.

Relief loosened my muscles. Now he would take me in his arms and we would disappear into the waves. Suddenly, pain ripped through my back. My knees buckled. My head smashed into the earth. Something sharp plunged into the space between my shoulder blades.

Crying out, my fingertips reached for the man, begging for help. I clawed at the air as if I could, somehow, drag him to me. A hand yanked my arm to the side and the pain exploded, reaching up to my eyes and blurring the world around me. A hot finger touched the rune inked on my wrist.

His symbol won’t save you, a soft voice whispered.

No, not her. I didn’t want to die.

The object sank further into my back until its point came through the front of my chest. I screamed. I reached out for him again, squinting through the pain. The break in the trees where he once stood was empty.

Calling on the wind, the earth, the water, the fire, I pleaded for them to rise up and help me but the elements abandoned me. I flailed until my arms and legs became numb. My body shuddered. The hot sun set as the red-tinged moon rose. Then I closed my eyes and let the pain take me away.

My eyes shot open. I threw my arm out trying to reach my back. It caught my bedside lamp, which crashed to the floor.

It’s fine. You’re fine, I said to myself. Where am I? Who am I?

I took a deep breath. A branch rapped at my window making the sound of a small bird pecking. The vent hummed. I knew these sounds.

I am Dagny Bennet, 16 years old, of Falls City, Virginia.

I needed to repeat that again.

I am Dagny Bennet, 16 years old, of Falls City, Virginia.

That one felt real.

This still happened. Sometimes I woke up and forgot not only where I was but who I was. Traveling from body to body does that to a person. It took years before I didn’t startle when I looked at my reflection. My heart continued to pound, still stuck in the dream.

Just a dream, I reminded myself. A normal dream of being chased. Completely, 100 percent normal.

My heart slowed. Moonlight stretched across the room creating a spotlight for the overturned lamp on the floor. I couldn’t leave it there. Ava would kill me. Cursing my big sister, I kicked off the comforter. Goosebumps sprung up under my nightgown. I placed the lamp back on the bedside table and tested the chain. The light popped on. In the yellow glow, I noticed the lamp leaned to the side. One of its little feet had broken off. Honestly, it was an improvement. I mean the thing had a fringed lampshade and weird naked babies carved on the base.

A bolt of worry gripped me. Ava spent months carefully choosing this lamp, as she did with every other piece of furniture in our house. If I bumped or scratched anything, she took it personally. I considered using my power to fuse the foot back onto the lamp but Ava would notice and complain about my magical patch job.

With a sigh, I rummaged through the overflowing drawers of my desk and found a packet of notecards with small pink roses, also chosen by Ava.

Dear Ava, I am sorry I broke the lamp. I will try to be more careful next time. –Dagny.

I propped the note up against the base of the lamp just as a chill thrummed at the back of my neck. Like those tiny birds that can sense tornados, my power was telling me he was awake.

My not-so-smart flip phone, which I was lucky to have, lay next to the hobbled lamp. Technology is a burden, not a necessity, Ava liked to say, while my dad and my brother, Jason, nodded along. Of course, Ava also bought weird baby lamps. I wasn’t sure she was the best judge of modern necessities.

Marc answered on the first ring. Hello?

Hey, why are you up? I whispered.

What self-respecting boyfriend wouldn’t be awake at 3 o’clock in the morning waiting for his girlfriend’s call?

Ha. Why really?

"You know, normal stuff, obsessions with the home shopping network, stress, homework, Occolta Atheneum."

You’re still playing with the weird Aradnian library thingy? When are you going to believe me? We fulfilled the ‘Prophecy’ when we killed Dionus, I whined, more than intended.

It’s not a belief thing, Marc turned on his serious voice. He flipped from carefree to serious and back to carefree quickly, a constant competition between his two halves. "I need to know it’s over and I think the answer might be in the Occolta Atheneum."

Really? You haven’t found anything in weeks.

I did tonight.

Really? Skepticism hung in my voice. 

I found a story about the god and goddess and how they created Wiccans.

What did it say? I asked, moved by a primal, curious part of me.

Around 6000 years ago Ena and Aeo, the goddess and god, decided humans were finally worthy and came to earth to bring magic. They built a city and had seventeen children, who created the first race of Wiccans. The city thrived for centuries until magic itself became unstable. The gods realized they were the cause and returned to their own realm to keep the balance. Before they did, they created a spell to resurrect their power every 2000 years in case they needed to restore order.

It doesn’t say anything about the ‘Prophecy’, I muttered, defiantly, even as the

primal part of me bucked and writhed with questions.

No, but there was something else you’re not going to like.

The darkness of my room crept up around me. Blackness was everywhere, except for two strange eyes glowing bright and fierce near the window.

Fear gripped my heart again. With the phone pressed to my ear, I jumped back into my bed and ducked under the covers.

Dagny? Marc said. Are you OK? Did you hear me?

Feeling silly, I poked out my head. The animal eyes were gone.

I’m sorry. I blinked again to be sure I imagined it. What did you say? I wasn’t going to like something?

We can talk about it some other time. What’s going on?

Nothing, I’m having dream flashbacks.

What dream? He sounded worried, for good reason. Sometimes my dreams weren’t dreams but connections to the spirit realm filled with ominous warnings.

I was being chased while searching for this guy with the body of a man and the head of an animal.

A dream about being chased is one of the top ten most common types of dreams, Marc said.

Usually, a pang of jealousy needled me when Marc flexed his superhuman memory muscles. Watching another person succeed where you constantly failed always hurt but, right now, I was grateful. His encyclopedic brain confirmed my dream was normal. 

That’s a relief. I guess I can go back to sleep now. I didn’t realize how much the dream bothered me. 

Before you go to bed, reach under your pillow.

Why? I said, as my fingers searched under my pink, ruffled pillow, also chosen by Ava. They landed on a hard object. A small, red jewelry box. What’s this?

Just open it, Marc responded, slyly.

The lid creaked as I flipped it open. A ring in the shape of a snake arched out of the tiny cushion. At the top, its mouth swallowed a disc with an engraving of a sun under a crescent moon.

My ring, I exclaimed. I thought I’d lost it.

You lent it to me for a spell, remember?

I remember. I don’t forget everything. You know, I actually felt a little off without it.

I’ve never known a girl to get so excited by a piece of junk she found on the floor of a bus station. For our next anniversary, we’ll go dumpster diving.

One man’s trash. A laugh bubbled inside me. Why didn’t you give it back before?

I was a little distracted by the whole battling ‘The First Traveler’ thing, he said. Next time I’ll remember returning my girlfriend’s snake ring is more important than saving the world from an evil Wiccan.

Ha, ha.

Actually, I wanted to give it to you on your birthday but I know you don’t like birthday presents. So...Happy random day of the week.

You’re giving me back my own ring as a present?

There must be more. With Marc, there was always more.

Look closer at the engraving on the inside.

A date? I examined the numbers.

The date we met.

A warm happiness spread through my stomach. I sucked in a breath and my room disappeared. The leftover sensation of being stretched out over space tingled in my body.

Well, hello there. Marc looked up from his desk, the phone still on his ear.

What did I do?

Chapter 3

Marc

Dagny cocked her head to the side as if she didn’t expect to find me in my own room. I grinned and pulled her into my arms.

I didn’t mean to teleport here, she explained, pressing her cheek into my chest.

Subconscious teleporting. Chuckling, I kissed the top of her head. I guess that means you like my non-gift.

Dagny flinched and unhooked her arms from my waist.

This isn’t funny. I didn’t even try to come here, she stammered. When you gave me the ring, I just thought about how I wanted to see you then I was here.

Dagny held out her hand. The snake ring rested in the center of her open palm.

Dagny, relax, you only teleported.

Only? Her sunflower colored eyes turned up to meet mine. The petals ringing her dark iris glowed with worry. Will it ever stop? Every day we do something new or faster and now, without trying.

Think of it as being a superhero, I suggested, as I slipped