Guardian of the Gate Read Online Free PDF

myself into the Otherworlds, but I do not wish myself back from them either.
     I know Sonia would be worried to find me traveling without escort, but I am too curious about my sister to relinquish a possible
     glimpse into her life.
    And perhaps a glimpse of James
. It is a whisper in my heart.
    The sky is inky and endless, with only a sliver of moon to light the tall, swaying grass in the fields. The wind rushes through
     the leaves in the trees, and I recognize the vacuous calm before a storm, the almost visible crackle of impending lightning
     and thunder. But for now, at least, it is eerily quiet.
    Birchwood Manor is dark and imposing, the steep stone walls rising into the night sky like a fortress. It feels deserted,
     even from a distance. The lanterns that were once lit near the front door are extinguished, the leaded windows in the library
     black, though it has long been a habit to keep the lamp on Father’s desk aglow through the night.
    And then I am in the entry, the marble icy under my bare feet. Though I feel the cold seep into my skin, I am removed from
     it in a way that I have come to expect while traveling the Plane. The grandfather clock in the foyer ticks quietly as I make
     my way up the stairs. Even in my travel, I instinctively avoid the fourth creaky step.
    Like so many things in my life, the house has become strange. I recognize its outward appearance — the worn, antique carpets,
     the carved mahogany banister — but something about its chemistry has changed, as if it is no longer made up of the familiar
     stone and wood and mortar that housed me since birth.
    The Dark Room, of course, is still at the end of the hall. It does not surprise me to see the door open, light seeping from
     its interior.
    I make my way toward it. I am not afraid, only curious, for I rarely find myself on the Plane without purpose. The door to
     my chambers, my old childhood room, is closed, as are Henry’s and Father’s. I suppose it is only Alice now who matters to
     Alice. I suppose it is easier for her to forget that we were once a family if all the doors remain tightly shut.
    And it is just as well, for I carry reminders of my past, my family, not in the darkest rooms of my heart as one mightimagine,
     but in its brightly lit corners where I can see them for all they were.
    I do not hesitate to step through the door to the Dark Room. The laws of the Grigori prevent me from being seen, even if I
     did wish it to be different. Even if I did wish to gain control over the forbidden powers Alice seems to have harnessed.
    And I do not.
    The first thing I see when I enter the room is my sister. She sits on the floor in the center of her circle, the same circle
     in which I found her all those months before, the one carved into the wooden floor and once hidden under the old carpet. Though
     my experience as a Spellcaster does not come close to matching that of my sister’s, I know enough to recognize the circle
     as one that strengthens the spell and protects the Caster within it. The site of it causes me to shiver, even in my traveling
     form.
    Alice wears one of her white nightdresses. Trimmed in matching lavender ribbon and once made by the armful, I remember them
     well. I no longer wear mine, for they are part of another life. But Alice wears hers now, looking strangely innocent and lovely
     as she rests on her heels, eyes closed and lips moving in an almost-silent whisper.
    I remain in place for some time, watching the fine planes of her face fade in and out with the flicker of the candles lighting
     her circle. Her soft, unnamable words lull me into a strange state of apathy. I find myself almost drowsy, though I am already
     physically asleep back in London. It is only when Alice opens her eyes that I am forced to alertness.
    At first, I think she will gaze into the empty room, but her eyes find mine calmly across the shadows as if she knew I was
     there all along. She doesn’t need to speak the words for me to