The League of Doorways (A Book of Vampires, Werewolves & Black Magic) (The Doorways Trilogy - Book Two)

The League of Doorways

(Doorways Trilogy Book Two)

By

Tim O’Rourke

Copyright 2012 by Tim O’Rourke

Kindle Edition

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Story Editor (Hacker)

Lynda O’Rourke

Book cover designed by:

Carles Barrios

Copyright: Carles Barrios
2013

Copyedited by:

Carolyn M. Pinard

www.thesupernaturalbookeditor.com

For Joseph, Thomas, Zachary & Willow

Thanks to:

Jennifer at readitreviewit.wordpress.com

Michelle at novelsontherun.blogspot.com

Shana at bookvacations.wordpress.com

Darkfallen
& Greta at Paranormalwastelands.blogspot.com

Angie at www.bookstomorrow.blogspot.com

Mary at Pageaway.blogspot.com

Alison at imabibliophobic.blogspot.com

Who all took the time to review my books – Thank you!

More books by Tim O’Rourke

Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 1

Vampire Wake (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 2

Vampire Hunt (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 3

Vampire Breed (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 4

Wolf House (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 4.5

Vampire Hollows (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 5

Dead Flesh (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 1

Dead Night (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 1.5

Dead Angels (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 2

Black Hill Farm (Book 1)

Black Hill Farm: Andy’s Diary (Book 2)

Doorways (Book 1)

You can contact Tim O’Rourke at

www.Ravenwoodgreys.com

Or by email at
[email protected]

Prologue

From their hiding place, the six peacekeepers watched Tanner being manhandled onto the floating stagecoach. The moon was up, and its reflection dazzled on the black waves of the Onyx Sea. There was another figure close by, and the peacekeepers watched her
, too. She was a foul-looking witch-like creature, and even from some feet away the peacekeepers covered their noses with their bandanas to block out her vile stench. She smelt of crud and vomit. One of the peacekeepers watched open-mouthed from his hiding place as a flood of bloated, white maggots oozed from the woman’s mouth, ears, and nose.

The woman, if that’s what she was, clambered onto the giant dog she had with her. It yapped angrily. Scooping away some of the maggots that wriggled over her chin, she held them before the dog’s mouth. It produced a long
, grey tongue and lapped them from its keeper’s fist.

“There’s a good boy,” the stinking woman cooed. Then digging her bare feet into the creature’s flanks
, she said, “C’mon, Max, take me to the Splinter. Take me to my brother.”

The giant dog shook its matted mane, then howling, it bounded off into the night, the woman clinging onto its back.

“Should we follow?” one of the peacekeepers asked another.

“No, Baran,” the peacekeeper whispered. She was younger than the male, but she spoke with the authority of someone who was to be obeyed. “Tanner told us to follow him and him alone, whatever should come to pass.”

“But that witch could lead us to the box, Wavia,” Baran said.

“We stick with Tanner,” Wavia hissed, turning her back on the other peacekeepers huddled behind the rocks. Then spying Anna Black being led onto the boat, she pointed at her
and said, “That must be the girl that Tanner spoke of. She must be the sister of the boy, Zachary Black, who went through the doorway.”

“And what about him?”
Baran asked, pointing through a gap in the rocks as Fandel was led onto the giant floating stagecoach by two of the Dammed Bandits.

“The uncle
, I guess,” Wavia shrugged.

The six of them watched as the boat was cast away from the quay and set out across the Onyx Sea. Then as the giant seahorses
, which pulled the boat, threw their giant heads back and raced away over the crashing waves, Baran looked at Wavia from over the top of his black bandana and said, “What now?”

“We follow,” Wavia said, scrambling out from behind the rocks and racing towards her rafter horse. As she went, her crossbows slammed against her thighs where they were tethered in brown leather holsters. 

“What, on horseback?” Baran called after her.

“There is only one place they can be heading,” Wavia said, pulling the mane of her horse like a set of
reins. The rafter horse reared back on two of its six legs and tossed its head from side to side in the air on its long, serpent-like neck. “We’ll travel across land, and if we have the gods’ blessings, we should get there before them.”

“But...” Baran started.

“Saddle up!” Wavia commanded the other peacekeepers. “We have a boat to catch.” 

Without further argument or debate, the remaining five peacekeepers mounted their rafter horses. Yanking on the creatures’ manes, the peacekeepers raced into the night after Wavia, following the dust trail that her rafter horse left in its wake.

Chapter One

Zachary Black and his friends made their way across the desert. The Prison of Eternal Despair was three days behind them now. They travelled only by night, Neanna Cera needing shelter from the blistering sun during the day. The nights were long and cool, and Zach knew that despite his friend’s need for shelter, he would have preferred to travel in the dark, when the moon was high and the wind was fresh. Sometimes he woke during the day and crawled from the cave or hole that they had found to take rest in. Alone, Zach would stare out across the vast
, flat plain, wondering if it had any end.

With his hands sheltering his eyes from the grains of sand that whipped up off the hard-panned ground, he would look in all directions, not knowing where he was going or where he was leading his friends. William-the-wolf-Weaver had been quiet
and withdrawn as they travelled through the night, often hanging back from the group – lost to his own thoughts. Zach knew that he blamed himself for his grandfather’s death. For if William hadn’t of looked into that box, then his grandfather would still be alive and his father, Warden, wouldn’t be blind. Zach had slowed several times, waiting for his friend to catch up. But with William’s eyes hidden behind that peculiar pair of spectacles, it was hard for Zach to see the pain that his friend masked. Zach would watch William from the corner of his eye, the bright moonlight twinkling off the grains of sand which were caught in his friend’s long, untidy beard and dreadlocks. William’s huge claws swung against his thighs, head cast down, and catapult jutting from his back trouser pocket. Zach had tried several times to engage his friend in conversation, but he was met only with silence. So Zach left William to his own thoughts and grief.

Captain Bom, unlike William, didn’t stop huffing and puffing over the sound of his chainmail armour clinking and clanking with every step that he took. As the Captain moaned
and groaned about the distance they were traveling and the lack of food and Tep leaves for his pipe, Zach often wondered how Bom bore the weight of the armour, even in the cool of the night. He was short, barely five foot, but he kept up with the group, often striding ahead and sometimes disappearing from view in the sandstorms that raced across the desert.

Zach knew, too, that it wasn’t only
he who would sometimes wake in the day and venture out into the burning heat of the sun. On several occasions, he had woken to find Bom missing from the spot where he had fallen asleep. But Bom always returned before nightfall, his thick hands carrying large, dead, desert rats by their tails. He would set a fire and cook the animals, some as big as cats, and have the food ready for when Neanna and William woke for the night.

They
often ate in silence, Neanna staring at Zach through the flames of the campfire. Bom would belch with satisfaction as he swallowed the last of the food, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning again about the lack of Tep leaves as he sat and looked at his empty pipe.

“Do you know where you are leading us?” Neanna had asked Zach, before leaving camp that night.

“Nope,” Zach said back, taking one of his crossbows from its holster and blowing the sand grit from the weapon’s firing mechanism.

“How come?”
Neanna asked back, pulling her tattered black cloak about her shoulders.

“I don’t think about it, like I don’t think about how my crossbows never need reloading,” Zach said thoughtfully, looking at the crossbow in his hand. “There is always a stake loaded
, waiting to be fired.” Then, as if to prove the point, he aimed high and pressed the trigger. There was a short, sharp bang, followed by a whizzing noise as the stake shot high up into the night and disappeared. “Look!” Zach said, holding the crossbow out in the light from the fire. “There is another stake waiting to be fired. I didn’t reload it.”

“A peacekeeper’s weapon,” Bom grunted, staring at the crossbow from beneath his long white fluffy eyebrows. “Everlasting ammunition, some say. Never would have believed it myself.”

“So, peacekeeper,” Neanna said, not sounding angry, but just tired, “where are you leading us?”

“I don’t know,” Zach said, holstering his crossbow. “You know this world better than I do.”

“You’re heading towards the outer-rim,” William suddenly spoke for the first time in days.

“The outer-rim?”
Zach asked, looking over at his friend, pleased that he had decided to speak at last.

“That place doesn’t really exist,” Bom groaned from beneath his overgrown beard. He then stuck the empty pipe into the corner of his mouth and sucked on it like a child would
on a soother.

“It does exist,” William said, cuffing away some of the rat meat that clung to the hair which swung from his chin. The flames reflected back in the lenses of his bulbous spectacles and his eyes looked as if they were on fire again. “My father said that some believed it to be the very last place you come to before reaching the Rusty Volcano. No one has ever returned. Some believe that there is a city there which fell into ruin hundreds of years ago, when the volcano last erupted.”

Looking at William through the flames as he dissected another of the desert rats with his claws, Zach said, “If no one has ever returned, how do people know such things about this city and the outer-rim? How do they know it even exists?”

William shrugged his huge shoulders and popped some of the rat meat into his mouth.

“I’ve heard about the city, too,” Neanna said, her long, black hair blowing in the cool wind that snaked across the desert floor. “They say that it snows there, it never stops. But it’s not snow – its ash, falling from the crumbling buildings.”

“Who says?” Bom scoffed, his armour glinting in the moonlight. “Who say
s such things?”

A silence fell over the small group huddled around the fire. The sound of the dry twigs snapping and h
issing as they burnt became almost deafening. After a short time, and unable to bear the silence any longer, Zach stood and brushed the dust and sand from the seat of his jeans.

“The only way to find out if this city you call the ou
ter-rim really exists, is if we carry on walking,” he said, as he pulled his long, dark coat about him.

With a grunt, Bom got to his feet and stamped out the fire. Tendrils of grey smoke wafted up into the night. William discarded the carcass of the last desert rat, and wiping his greasy claws on his thick
, woven trousers, he stood. Towering over Neanna, he stuck out a claw and pulled her to her feet.

“Do you think we should keep heading towards...
” Neanna started as she looked at William.

“Do we have a choice?” William cut over her. Then, gently curling his claws around the key that hung about his neck, he added, “If we are going to get the box that contains the
Heart of Endra, then we have to keep going. My granddad told me once that whatever happens, you must never go backwards. Sideways is okay sometimes, but never back.”

William tucked the tiny key, which looked as if it had been made from bone, back beneath his shirt, and set off in the direction of the place they called the outer-rim, the sling full of inferno berries that his father had left for him, thrown over his shoulder. The others
followed and Zach couldn’t help but notice that since the battle at the Prison of Eternal Despair, William had finally taken the lead.

They walked through the night as the moon hung high above them
, lighting their way. The pale, white light cast long shadows before them. Neanna
blinked
back and forth as if in a sudden playful mood. One moment she would be next to Zach, brushing so close to him that he could have taken her by the hand. Then she would be gone again in a spray of shadows, just to reappear ahead of him next to William, who walked alone. Zach liked it when Neanna was close, and he thought back to the embrace they had shared in the cave just before reaching the Prison of Eternal Despair. He had wondered back then if they weren’t becoming close in some way, but since that time, she had kept her distance. Zach often caught her looking at him, but was it the other way around? Had Neanna caught him looking at her? If Zach were to be honest, he did often find himself snatching a quick glimpse at her from the corner of his eye. He tried not to make it obvious, but he couldn’t help himself. Neanna Cera was hot and he couldn’t deny that. Even as a vampire back
in
Earth, all fangs and wings, she had been stunning to look at. Vampire of Slath, her eyes were the clearest of blues, and the dash of pink freckles that covered the bridge of her nose and cheeks gave her pale skin a warm and friendly glow. But it was her hair which Zach liked the most. It was thick and black – the colour of raven’s wings – and it shone so bright, that sometimes he had to shut his eyes against the glare. Zach knew that Neanna was like no other girl he had ever met. Not just because she was a vampire – Slath – but she was feisty. She had guts and courage and was more than a match for anyone or anything. Zach knew that his sister could be strong-willed and fiery at times, but Neanna had a ruthlessness about her, too. And although Zach didn’t really understand why, he liked that about her.

As Zach watched Neanna
blink
back and forth around them, he thought of his sister. Not knowing that just like him, Anna was in Endra, he pictured her as he last remembered seeing her: fragile looking and near death, lying in bed at his uncle’s remote cottage in Cornwall. And what of his uncle, Fandel? Zach wondered. He now knew that his uncle Fandel was the darkman’s reflection – a reflection of the sorcerer who was named Throat. The sorcerer William had seen in the box, striding out of the desert and taking the Queen of Endra prisoner in her tower, the Splinter. Zach knew that this Queen and his sister, Anna, were linked just like Throat and his Uncle Fandel. But unlike Throat and Fandel, both the Queen and Anna were dying. Throat needed both of them dead if he was to take the Heart of Endra from the box that he had suspended over the Rusty Volcano, in the hopes that the searing heat would break open the box and release the heart, which lay inside.

But there was a key. The key, which William’s grandfather and father had made. And William had it. Zach knew that this put them all in great danger. He guessed that Throat would know by now that his armies had been defeated at the prison, and once again he would have his agents searching for them. Zach knew that he had to get the key to the box and then the box to his sister, before he and his friends were
caught, or his sister died in bed in his uncle’s cottage.

Pulling the collar of his coat about his neck, Zach lent into the wind and sand that billowed about him and quickened his step.

They walked through the night, and just when Zach knew that the sun was only an hour or so away and shelter would be needed for Neanna, the last shafts of pale moonlight reflected back off something lying in the sand ahead of them.

William had seen it too, and pointing ahead, he said in his deep, booming voice, “Can you see that?”

“Yes,” Zach said, his fingers twitching over the crossbows that hung in the holsters strapped to his thighs.

Sensing the approaching dawn and not wanting to be trapped out in the light, Neanna looked at her friends and said, “I’ll check it out.”

“No
, wait!” Zach called after her, his crossbows now drawn.

But Neanna had
blinked
away at speed, reappearing in the distance next to whatever it was that was glinting in the moonlight.

William dropped onto all fours and bounded after her.

“That girl needs to slow down,” Bom huffed from beneath his overgrown beard.

Zach could see the fear in Bom’s eyes, the same fear he had seen during the battle at the prison. “C’mon,” Zach coaxed, as he made after his friends.

With Bom huffing and puffing at his heels, Zach joined Neanna and William. With his eyes burning behind his thick glasses, which jutted from his face like two telescopes, William looked down and said, “It looks like a man.”

Zach followed his gaze, his crossbows trained on the figure that lay face-down in the sand.

“How do you know it’s a man?” Neanna breathed, her long, black hair billowing back in the wind.

“It’s too big to be a woman,” Bom snapped.

“You’re small – but you’re a man, ain’t ya?” William grinned, his pointed teeth on show.

Bom grunted a reply which none of them could understand. Holstering his crossbows, Zach hunkered down in the sand to take a closer look at the body. It was dressed in what looked like some kind of flight suit – something a jet pilot might wear, Zach thought. Its hair was jet-black and covered in sand. It appeared to Zach that the figure had been laying out in the desert for some time. With a hand that trembled, Zach reached out and took hold of the
flight suit. In his mind, he pictured turning the body over to find a decayed and skeletal-looking face staring back at him.

With his friends peering over his shoulder, Zach took a deep breath and rolled the figure over.
At first glance, it appeared to be a male – human - but as Zach took another look, he could see that it wasn’t. The texture of its skin looked pearly, like a waxwork model or one of those mannequins you see in shop windows. Zach had a fleeting memory of his parents taking him and his sister to Madame Tussauds in London as a child. And however much his mum and dad had tried to convince him that he really was having his picture taken next to David Beckham, he knew it wasn’t really him – because that David Beckham was lifeless – it was his eyes, they just looked dead. And so did the eyes of the man who now lay looking back at him from the desert floor.