Through a Mirror, Darkly: Antiquity's Gate, #2

By R.F. Hurteau

Chaos reigns in the vacuum left after the Therans' retreat. While Sylvia and Edwin work to pick up the pieces of a broken city, they find that Sanctuary is now the first line of defense in a war no one realized was still being fought. In dire need of supplies and allies, they seek out alliances while factions within the city itself threaten its fledgling freedom. 

Meanwhile, Felix discovers that no matter where he goes, he can't outrun who he is. The Pravacordian government dangles his amnesty like a carrot on a stick. Under pressure, he agrees to a mission that will take him into unknown territory: beyond Antiquity's Gate. If he succeeds, his family will be safe. If he fails, he'll never see them again. 

The fate of two worlds lies in the hands of a desperate few. Some of them seem doomed to repeat history…others are determined to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.F. Hurteau
• Release date: Sep 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781951027056

R.F. Hurteau

In the amount of time it takes you to read this, R.F. Hurteau will have finished yet another cup of coffee. More caffeine than human, she harnesses the powers of this magical bean juice to create stories that explore worlds unknown through the lens of that age old curiousity that drives all creatives: the human condition. She lives in New England with her husband, five children, and an impressive array of animal friends. Her ultimate mission is to craft light, character-driven science fiction that is accessible to all…and by doing so slowly turn everyone into nerds.

Book preview

A Pravacordian Nursery Rhyme

The children ran along the shore,

The sea rose up to greet them.

Take care, beware, don't linger there!

Their elders did entreat them.

The sun shone down, the sand was warm,

Their words rang out, beguiling.

It seemed a dream, so right and clean,

What could the sea be hiding?

A step they took, into the surf

No fear found in their hearts.

So free, to be, upon the sea,

To never be apart.

Into the gentle froth they dove,

The sea rose up to meet them.

Too late, that's that, no turning back,

The sea rose up to eat them.

Chapter One

Mr. Wilks

The cold did nothing to numb the pain.

Felix's hand balled into a fist and he punched the hull, feeling it reverberate through his arm.

We have to go back, said Felix. We never should have left him.

Ambrose's voice was pained. If I turn this ship around, there's no guarantee we'll ever get out of here.

Willow reached up and took his fist in her hand, her touch warm but her eyes sad.

We have to go back, he whispered plaintively.

It's too late, my love. You can't help him, he's gone.

She raised a finger, pointing out a window at the back of the ship. His gut wrenched as he saw Sanctuary in the distance; six domes arranged in a perfect circle. From the top of one there was a sudden, silent eruption of steam, a giant pillar stretching into the clouds. He watched as it transformed into white powder in the frigid air, drifting back toward the earth, unconcerned with what it had done. Unconcerned that a life had been swept up in that blast, and only death had fallen with the snow.

Felix? he heard Willow say behind him. Ripley needs you.

Felix ignored her, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight that was rapidly fading into the distance behind them. The snow still drifted, serene, from high above the condenser. He searched for something even his Theran eyes could not have seen from this far.

A body.

Ripley needs you, Felix, Willow said again, more insistent this time.

Groggy, Felix opened his eyes. Willow stood before him, swaying in the moonlight as she rocked an infant in her arms. The babe was swaddled in a muslin blanket, tiny pointed ears peeking out from beneath a mop of short brown curls. In the next room, Felix heard the cries of his son. The sound was so small, so defenseless. Felix stood up from the bed and went to him, returning with the baby in his arms, a miniature thumb stuck in his miniature mouth. His shining eyes peered up at Felix, comforted by his father's warmth. I will always keep you safe, Felix thought fiercely, still haunted by the dream. I will never let anything bad happen to you.

When he looked up, Felix saw that Willow was studying him with a look of concern. You were dreaming about him again, weren't you?

Felix sat on the edge of the bed, his face scrunching into a lopsided expression of guilt. Yeah.

She offered him a sad smile. He'd want you to remember him fondly, she insisted. He wouldn't want you to torment yourself like this.

I know. I know! You're right. But I keep seeing it. I keep thinking, maybe—maybe there's something we could have done. If we'd only had more time.

Hush, now, cooed Willow. Felix wasn't sure if she was addressing him or the babies. In his arms, the infant squirmed and gave a small chirruping sound. Felix held him out to his mother.

Here, he said, holding him out to Willow, he's hungry. Give Felicity to me.

Willow shook her head. She's only just fallen asleep. Let me put her down first, then I'll take him.

She disappeared into the next room and he stood, moving to the window to peer out into the darkness. A warm breeze rustled the curtains, carrying with it an unfamiliar scent. Everything in Pravacordia was unfamiliar to Felix. Ambrose had said that, in time, this place would begin to feel like home. Yet even now, six months later, it still felt strange. Each day, Felix woke early and went out into the world, scouring the town for odd jobs. He did his best, but work was scarce. At first, he had passed the time enjoying the scenery. Pravacordia was the complete opposite of Sanctuary. Where Felix had grown up in a city of concrete and steel, this place seemed on the brink of being overrun by the forest. Trees, wider around than his arms could stretch, dotted the landscape. Wooden buildings were painted in bright colors, springing up like flowers in the plush grass. The village Ambrose called home, Ithaca, was struggling, but Felix could not tell by looking at it. Birds sang, and dogs barked, and children ran and played among the trees. How could a place like this be struggling? Ambrose said it was because this town had been going through hard times, that the capital had internalized many of the products and services that these people were known for, hurting their exports. He said that that was why very few in Ithaca had jobs for Felix. They barely had enough work for themselves.

Felix knew better.

He might be unfamiliar with the land, the smells, the architecture. He might be unfamiliar with the culture, the technology, even the food. But Felix was familiar with the stares he received when he'd walk down the street, and the fake smiles and empty platitudes he garnered from those he spoke to—he'd dealt with these things his entire life. Back then it had been because he was a Halfsie, but nobody around here was familiar with Halfsies. Here, they just saw an Elf.

An Elf, like the ones that had once tried to wipe out Humanity.

Some people, like Ambrose, treated him and Willow kindly enough, but Felix was afraid for the kind of life his children would lead, being brought up in a place where people feared and despised them. Would they ever be free to run through the streets with the other children, chasing a ball or rolling in the grass? Or would parents see them coming, hustle their own broods inside, teach them to stay away from those pointy-eared troublemakers? He had thought that, leaving Sanctuary, they could go anywhere and make a life for themselves. He hadn't considered that even if civilization was alive and thriving, he and his family might not be welcome to be a part of it. He'd dreamed that the people outside would be different. More accepting. More understanding.

He'd been wrong. There was no place they could go where they would feel like they belonged. It felt to Felix as though he and his family were a lot like Antiquity's Gate itself; a bridge between two worlds, feared by those on either side.

The baby in his arms began to cry in earnest now and Felix tried, and failed, to mimic the motions that seemed to come so naturally to Willow. It's all right, Ripley, he whispered. I've got you. It's all right.

IT SEEMED AS THOUGH Felix had only just laid down and closed his eyes when he was awoken for a second time, this time by the sound of a crash from somewhere downstairs.

Confound it! came Tobias' frustrated cry. Staring up at the ceiling, Felix traced the pattern of the wood grain with his eyes, following them to the outer edges of the room. They disappeared where the ceiling met the walls, perhaps hidden by the textured wallpaper that had been applied there. The floral print was muted and tasteful, a soft cream color that he found relaxing. Back in Sanctuary, everything had been a flat, tired beige. Felix had never much cared for beige.

He turned over to look at Willow, who still slept peacefully beside him, as more muttering drifted up from below. He sighed, stretched, and got up to investigate.

As he descended the stairs he entered a small, cramped galley kitchen that Ambrose affectionately called his other workshop. Pots and pans hanging from hooks on the low wooden ceiling made maneuvering a tricky proposition for Felix, who had hit his head on each of them on at least one occasion. Open shelves along the wall were packed full of a wide assortment of preserved food stuffs, chipped plates, mismatched bowls, glassware, tools, and gadgets, all of them a little dusty. Tobias and Willow had both attempted to bring some order to the chaos, but they soon gave up. Every time they would try to group things in any sort of logical scheme, Ambrose would get confused, creating even more of a mess as he tried to find something in the new system. Although the kitchen's arrangements made very little sense, he seemed to know just where to find whatever he was looking for.

Felix had made no such attempts to probe into the depths, as the cluttered atmosphere was the only thing around here that reminded him of home.

Ambrose spent most days working on either his own ship or helping to fix someone else's. His home was a small portion of a much larger building, the bulk of which comprised his airship garage. He would often come barreling into the kitchen to rummage around, pulling things off shelves and piling them on the counter until he found the misplaced tool or part he was looking for before disappearing back into his workshop for several more hours until someone coaxed him inside to eat.

Tobias was sucking on his finger, glaring at something smoking in a cast iron pan atop the wood-burning stove. Felix looked around and, finding a towel, he folded it twice and used it to transfer the pan into the wash basin. It sizzled as it hit the soapy water, peppering Felix with a small barrage of tiny bubbles. What were you trying to do, Toby, burn the place down?

Tobias frowned. "I was attempting to make toast. But I'm afraid the theory and the practical application appear to be quite different."

Felix looked into the pan with skepticism, noting the now sodden lump of black char still stuck to it. That was supposed to be toast?

I was distracted, replied Tobias before declaring defensively, I burnt myself!

Felix sighed. Tobias had proven over and over again that he had a great technical mind. He was a boon to Ambrose, who had no trouble teaching him about Pravacordian technology. But the poor man seemed to lack common sense all together.

Why don't you go take care of your hand, Felix suggested, "and I will fix breakfast."

Shouldn't you be leaving soon?

Felix shook his head. Not today. We've got that thing with the Ministry later.

Pravacordia's ruling body, the Ministry, had denied Ambrose's many requests to fly to Sanctuary. When he'd not only defied them but also returned with refugees it had caused quite a commotion. Ambrose, an upstanding citizen with many friends, had been given a slap on the wrist. Tobias, a brilliant young man, had been welcomed to the community.

And then there were Felix and Willow—the Halfsie and the pregnant Elf.

The proceedings on how to deal with this unprecedented situation had been going on for months, with Felix and Willow placed under Ambrose's care and supervision until such time as a suitable solution could be found.

Oh! That's right! nodded Tobias, wrapping his hand in a wet towel. I almost forgot. I'd be more than happy to watch the twins while you're gone, if you'd like!

Felix glanced at the pan again, the unsubmerged handle still smoldering. Gee, thanks for the offer, Toby, but I think we've got it covered.

Ambrose's daughter Penelope burst into the kitchen, a flurry of color and sound. Her fiery orange hair ran down her back in a neat braid, and a welding mask was propped open on her head. She wore a well-fitting turquoise tunic over which she had tied a thick leather apron smeared with grease. She was counting to herself in excited whispers, but she stopped abruptly when she entered. What happened? She wrinkled her nose. Smells like burning.

Toby was trying to cook again. Felix nodded toward the still-smoking remains in the wash basin. "It didn't pan out."

Penelope laughed, shaking her head as she reached over Felix's shoulder to grab an apple from a bowl on the counter which also contained pears, some sort of tiny oranges, and a wrench. Just have some fruit, Toby. It's safer.

But don't try cutting it, cautioned Felix, choosing an apple for himself as well.

The dining table was elaborately carved from solid wood, but Felix wouldn't have known it if Penelope hadn't mentioned it in passing. Like the rest of the kitchen, it was covered in odds and ends. There were stacks of books and untidy piles of parchments. Penelope, half-eaten apple held fast between her teeth, shoved a few things to the side and placed an ink well and fresh parchment down on the newly liberated surface. Sitting, she began scribbling down the numbers she had been reciting before, turning them into neat, printed equations.

What are you working on?

Huh? she murmured, a little distracted. "Oh! Tobias and I think we found a way to insulate Pluto's engine well enough to prevent her from stalling out in extreme climates. We were throwing around ideas last night when it hit me. I worked out a few details this morning and I wanted to write them down before I forgot."

Felix scowled. Why do you need the engine to work in extreme climates?

Penelope looked up, flustered. Why not?

Just then, Ambrose came rushing in from his workshop, throwing the door wide. It banged against a hutch, knocking a teacup to the floor where it bounced harmlessly on several layers of faded carpeting before coming to rest.

You'll never guess! he began, panting with excitement. Just arrived—Nimbus class—have a look!

Although the statement held no particular meaning for Felix, it was exciting news to the rest of them. Tobias and Penelope sprang to their feet, but Penelope stopped short when she heard a small cry from upstairs. All the noise must have woken him. She let out a longing sigh and glanced toward the door.

I'll get him, said Felix. Mine are still asleep. You go, see that new ship that's got you all so excited.

Her face broke into a grin. Nimbus class! I've never even gotten to touch one before!

Felix mounted the stairs once more, pausing to kiss Willow as she passed him in the narrow hallway. I'm going to get Sebastian.

Penelope's son was a two-year-old spitfire with a deep enthusiasm for life. When Felix opened the door to the room Penelope and her son shared, he found Sebastian with one leg already over the side of his crib, tongue out in concentration as he struggled to pull the rest of his body up and over. He looked up and beamed at Felix.

Flix! His eyes were wide with excitement.

Good morning, little man!

Felix lifted the boy up and Sebastian, as he always did, began babbling happily. Without Penelope's translations, much of this enthusiastic chatter was a mystery, but the boy did have a surprising vocabulary for his age. When they passed the small room where the twins were, Felix could hear them stirring. He grimaced as Sebastian placed a wet hand over his mouth. Why is it wet? he wondered. On second thought, I don't want to know.

Shh! Sebastian scolded Felix, who hadn't been talking. Flix wake babies!

Sorry! whispered Felix. Let's go see your mama!

When they stepped into the workshop, where several small ships were docked, the ceiling was retracted. A large, sleek looking ship with an open cockpit and the Pravacordian seal painted on its side sat at one of the outer docking stations, propellers still spinning. Sebastian looked for his mother before he noticed the vessel. He squealed in delight, pushing both chubby palms against Felix's face, one finger making its way up his right nostril as he squirmed to get down. Nimbus! he yelped at Felix. Down!

Felix put him down and he ran to his mother, who scooped him up and began showing him the craft, pointing out features as Ambrose and Tobias spoke with the pilot. Armored plating, hybrid cyclical condensers...! he could hear her saying. It's the fastest non-military ship to date! Super luxurious, too. What a beauty.

Felix smiled. It didn't look like anything more than an airplane to him, something he remembered seeing pictures of in history books back in Sanctuary. Aside from being a bit more flashy than those he could recall, he could not tell much about it. When they'd first arrived, he'd made something of an effort to learn, hoping to make himself useful. A small way to thank Ambrose for facilitating their escape. But the mechanical and scientific minds of Ambrose, Tobias and Penelope were not equipped to explain things in a way that he could understand. They spoke too fast, rattling off strange words that Felix could not be certain weren't just made up in the first place.

Looking around the garage, he headed toward Ambrose. He thought the man speaking to him looked vaguely familiar but couldn't be sure from the back. He wore a purple silk waistcoat over a ruffled shirt, and white-and-purple striped trousers, as if to affirm that he was someone not to be ignored. A pencil-thin mustache curled into little points which bobbed with pride as he spoke, and he held a tall, narrow-brimmed hat under one thin arm. Felix walked over to introduce himself and immediately regretted it. Once he saw the man's face, he recognized him as Thoris Wilks, one of the committee members the Ministry had assigned to decide what to do with Felix and Willow.

"Ah, Mr. Felix, so good to see you again. Wilks' tone was friendly, but the words were drawn out in formal, elaborate way. Felix could not remember if he'd ever listened to the man speak before, as he did not pay much attention to which committee member said what at the meetings. They were all the same to him. I've always heard Ambrose's workshop is top notch, but I'd never gotten around to coming to see for myself. I tend to stick close to the capital, you know. He looked back and forth between them with an air of importance. In case I'm needed. Anyway, I thought I'd pop by and have him take a look at my rudder assembly. Been sticking a bit. Afterwards, I'd be more than happy to take you to your meeting at the Ministry."

Well, actually, said Ambrose, gesturing around the shop, I do have several other ships I'm working on right now, but I can get to yours in a day or two, if you leave her—

Nonsense, nonsense. I'm certain your other customers would be understanding of a short delay. She's brand new, you know, just picked her up yesterday and I'm sorry to say I didn't even notice the problem until last night...haven't even named her yet, and already she's causing trouble! He chuckled. So you can imagine my distress, and my desire to get it taken care of right away. The life of a Minister is a demanding one, as I'm sure you're aware. I can't be flying to and fro to important meetings listing to one side, or wobbling back and forth like a drunken fool. Of course, if you're too busy, there are plenty of other mechanics around that I'm certain could make the time for me.

Felix eyed Wilks, his suspicions now confirmed. There it was. That condescending, manipulative tone that seemed to be part of the job description to work in government. Surely Ambrose wouldn't fall for...but he glanced over and saw that Ambrose's eyes were full of yearning as he held out a hand as if to touch Wilks' ship, which sat quiet and majestic overhead. "Well, I suppose they might not mind a slight delay. It's only a quick rudder job, after all..."

Splendid. Now, which of you wonderful ladies would be a dear and make us a nice cup of tea while we wait? Wilks looked expectantly back and forth between Willow, who had appeared in the entrance holding two infants, and Penelope, who had a very Don't look at me expression on her face.

Come on, said Felix, not bothering to hide his annoyance, I'll fix your tea.

Quite right, quite right! Mr. Wilks wore an oblivious smile, following Felix out of the workshop and into the house.

Entering the cluttered living space, Wilks looked around. Oh my. It certainly is, uh—cozy.

Felix ignored him, moving to the hutch and selecting a few mismatched cups. Wilks cleared an armchair and sat gingerly, placing his hat atop a nearby upturned crate. He jumped as Sebastian came barreling in, throwing the door open, slamming the hutch just as his grandfather had. Felix caught the sugar bowl inches from the ground, managing to save most of its contents. Willow followed the toddler in and sat down on the overstuffed sofa across from Mr. Wilks, who began speaking almost at once.

Now, I really shouldn't divulge this, Mr. Wilks said, pausing to take the teacup that Felix held out. "Delightful. What was I saying? Ah yes, of course. The committee is making considerable strides in your case, considerable strides."

So, you've decided what will happen to Felix and me, then? Willow asked, hopeful.

"What? Oh, no, no, I'm afraid it will be