Demon of the Black Gate

“I need a few days to think about this.” She looked away. Her thoughts could not latch on to any safe image.

“Days?” The demon sounded irritated.

“I need time. To decide. This is very strange to me. I just can’t pack up and leave.”

“Time means nothing.” the demon replied. “I know this: the one who would cast me back knows of you. I have felt it. He will find you. I do not want to lead the battle between us here.”

At that moment, she wanted him to leave her alone. Leave her in her comfortable darkness, no shimmering blues of his visage breaking through. She didn’t have to speak, for he did something unexpected.

“I will leave. When you are ready. Call. I will hear.”

He turned and strode away from the cabin in the direction of the lake. She went inside the cabin, not wanting to watch him go.

Cerra really didn’t know what to do. Her world suddenly felt very foreign to her, all the familiar things, the stable references now seemed too intangible to count on. All she had to do was stay, and hope that their solidity would return. But she knew she couldn’t. The void had changed that. She had no idea what she was doing. Somehow it had been placed at her feet to help. And she felt compelled to. A cry for help from a world she knew nothing of. There was a bond of darkness now. One she thought she knew. One she knew would never be the same. Her life was anything but dark and sightless. It took the realization of the void for her to even fully see what she had sensed a very long time. The pulse of life about her. And now it was bright inside her, vibrant around her, and she felt herself positioned to leave all she knew. All of it now felt as strange as the world she must face.

Cerra spent the next few days organizing the small bag that she would use for her herbs and medicines. It was all she knew and couldn’t imagine leaving without them. She could pack many vials and potions in a small space. There was always a care to give or administer. She ground a weeks’ worth of kafi, it wasn’t enough but it was all she had. She gathered sevenleaf flowers, cooking spices and straightened her cabin, although everything was already tidy. It was always neat. She had no choice or she’d lose things. She hated searching for misplaced items.

Her tasks became more and more insignificant until she realized she was stalling.

“If I stay here much longer, I’ll have to start over at the beginning.” she told Kamir. The cat had sensed a change for he had scarcely left her side the past two days.

Her clothes were laid out. All she had to do was gather them around her saddlebags and stuff them in. The spring would be turning to summer. She was riding, so her leggings were necessary. The two she chose were her favorites. They happened to be loden and rust in color, though she didn’t care of that, only that they fit and soft on her legs. The blouses were soft but stout cotton, and she chose a leather coat for its toughness. She gathered a few heavy scarves which were often the nest for her unruly hair. She packed one leather skirt, and wearing her stout woven one, she’d have two. They were both slit well to adjust to the saddle.

She did each chore in preparation as though there would always be another to keep her occupied but at length, all there was left to do was saddle the horse. It was a process that Sugar was used to. Cerra had the saddle on a rack, and standing between the saddle and horse, she’d swing the saddle up, at least achieving the horses’ rump. Sugar was patient as Cerra then maneuvered the saddle into position. She affixed a bitless bridle on the horse. She never sought to direct her of course and she was often kidded for riding blind. Sugar knew the way to town, and the various trails that Cerra would frequent for herbs and mushrooms.

“How do you find them things.” Chandra had asked her.

“Why I dowse for them of course.” Cerra replied. “Like water. Which is easy. You can do it too. I’ll show you. Mushrooms are a little different, I suppose, but I think it’s just asking the right question.”

Cerra didn’t think about it much, but the tutoring by Jessann had left marks that Cerra took for granted.

She would count on Sugar now. The horse would find her way home.

She led Sugar back to the house and wrestled her bags across and lashed them to the saddle. The door was shut.

“I didn’t leave the kafi on” she thought with a nervous smile. She stood rein in hand, and turned her head about one way then the other. She soaked in the sense and smells of the cabin, the copse of woods, the lake beyond, even the towering presence of the mountains that whispered with the winds and cascades that fell from their flanks. They shone even brighter than before in her mind. She sought a blessing and felt it return as she soaked up the airs about her.

“I’ll be back.” she whispered.

She faced the direction of the lake, and took a deep breath.

“Hey.” she was uncertain what to call him. “HEY! I’m red-dy!” she sang out.

“No I’m not.” she said to herself.

It didn’t take long. She had been so preoccupied that the low glimmer of blue was lost in her own concentrated visuals of rhe vibrant life about her. Her home.

The demon had drifted about the mountains nearby, all the way to the Gate following a vague thread that came to elude him completely. He knew what it had the taste of the one. The keeper of his name.

He returned to the womans lake and settled in near the lake, taking the elements of earth for his rest. It was like sleep, the rhythm so low and complete. He had not measured the days. The earth and sky measure time differently. The call woke him only because he was tuned to it, waiting. If Cerra had been able to see, she would have observed the very rock rise from the ground, shifting in sands and grits to form the demon. The fires about him flared. The form she had sculpted finally came to rest, and the demon stood like a beacon near the lake. Waiting.

“Well I guess we go that way.” she heaved herself up on Sugar and settled. She chirped for Kamir who bounded immediately up the knotted cloth and settled in her lap.

The demon was standing in the direction she knew to be the trail to the lake.

“Don’t look back.” She thought. It was a small piece of resolve, for she felt a momentary fright at leaving.

“C’mon Sugar, let’s go.”, giving the horse a little squeeze with her knees. And like that, her life was behind her, the demon the guiding light in front. She silently blessed her cabin and the trees and fruits about it, and again vowing her return. Only feet from her doorstep, it didn’t seem so empty a promise.

She reached the demon who began to turn and walk.

“Hold on. Hold on a moment.” she said to his back.

The demon turned and looked at her.

“Where are we going?”

“To him ... the vizier. A city.”

“We cannot pass the Gate.” she reasoned. “I am quite sure that you would be noticed. Am I correct?”

“You say so.” the demon said. It sounded like agreement. “We travel through the mountains. There is a way. Built by the hands of men.”

“The Dragon’s Eye mine.” she said out loud, reflecting her thought. “It is only the stuff of tales now, there are no treasures there anymore. And we can pass through to … the other side? Wherever that is?”

“We can pass.”

“Well, it’s not a popular route for travelers, I’ll give you that. Since I’ve been here ... only nobody. I just wanted to know. It all looks the same to me.” she said, with her most used self-aimed jibe.

The demon turned without comment and began walking again. “Here we go.” she thought to herself.

“Yes.” came back to her mind unexpectedly. She laughed in spite of the anxiety her leaving the cabin had caused her. “Ready or not.” she finished.

The demon caught her meaning. ‘Ready. Not ready.’ reflected in his mind as something true.

The demon led her on a familiar trail. The one she had taken when she first encountered him. She had never been much higher up than that, and only on the mine trail once. The demon led on as they rose above the valley floor. The trail ceased its turns and continued on a short narrow ridge. They were riding the flanks of the mountains, Cerra could feel their cold presence. The clop of Sugar’s hoofs would occasionally rebound cleanly from their steep chiseled walls. The whisper of tall pines that hugged the slopes defined the sharp tang of the smell of their sap. They felt grand, standing guard over the mountains and air. The pleasure of the mountain madrones was palpable to her. Their small and infrequent stands sent dashes of humor and sage advice through her. She didn’t know their words but she caught their meaning.

The first time she had felt a tree was at the behest of Jessann.

“If you listen, carefully, you will feel their thoughts. They do not speak as you and I, but their intention is unmistakable. Madrones are friendly, and wise. By the way their bark will also peel easily and make the most delicious tea.

“Lilacs, now, are completely different, which though very pretty, are stiff and can be bad tempered. Apple trees too. But still, you must listen to them and appreciate them all for they all have gifts and something to say.

“And they know of each other too. Distance means nothing to them. They will hear your thoughts wherever you are. Think kindly of them and they will know. And so will you.”

The demon stopped, and Cerra jolted back to the present and pulled up Sugar.

“This is our path.” he said.

The way felt open to the north, the air shifted comfortably. There were no twists to contort the breezes. South felt the same. The walls and spines of the mountain cliffs rose behind he as she faced the width of the valley below. She sensed she was on a grand road cut into the flanks of stone, and she wasn’t far wrong.

The Dragon’s Eye mine had operated for centuries, and the roadbed upon which Cerra and the demon now stood was meticulously graded and scaped down the mountain to accommodate the many carts that would transfer the valuable ores. The surface, once groomed with pavers, had long ago given way to the grasses and small brushes the stonework would allow. The path now wove as it would within the flat boundaries of the ancient road, the way chosen by the deer and other beasts of the mountains. The road rose as they headed north. They were near the treeline and Cerra could feel the change in the wind and taste of the air. The mountains echoed cleanly with fewer trees to obscure them and the expanse of the valley below was readily felt.

“It won’t rain for awhile at any rate.” Cerra observed.

“I care not about rain.” said the demon.

“Well, I do.” she laughed. “I’ll let you know if I need to attend to my comfort. Speaking of which … “