Promise: Caulborn #2 Read Online Free

me, disgust plain on his face. “That was pathetic,” he said.
    “Well excuse me for not having a couple of millennia’s worth of practice sealing gateways.”
    “Do you mean to say that you’ve never opened a gateway, Corinthos? How do you visit your followers on the Bright Side?”
    “Phasilion.”
    “Ah, those living gateways. Yes, I’ve heard of them.” Forculus picked up his donut and munched thoughtfully. “So you tell them where to open for you. That’s not a bad start.”
    “No,” I said. “Each phasilion opens to a specific location. I go to the one that opens in the heart of the Urisk city.”
    Forculus’s jaw dropped. Tiny crumbs of donut were stuck in his salt-and-pepper beard, and his face was a mask of disbelief. “You go to the one that opens where you want to go,” he said flatly. “You’ve never commanded one to open?”
    “Well, there was one time.” I told Forculus about the time I’d telepathically dominated an unfriendly phasilion named Grenlori into opening to a specific location.
    “Hera’s frosty crotch, boy,” Forculus swore. “You think you telepathically dominated it? You have the domain of doors,” he enunciated every word carefully, like he was explaining to a simpleton. “That means doors obey your every whim. The phasilion is a living door. It had to obey you. Did you at least have it open to your desired location?”
    “Mostly.”
    Forculus rolled his eyes as he stuffed the last of his donut into his mouth. “That’s something, I suppose. Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Didn’t your adviser tell you? I’m going to teach you how to make gateways of your own. And from what I can see, it’s not going to be easy. Go get dressed and come back here.” Once I’d geared up and rejoined him, Forculus waved his hand and another gateway sprang into existence. This one opened onto a grove of fig trees. “Follow me.” We stepped through and the temperature difference was striking on the other side. It’d been about seventy degrees in my apartment, but this was at least eighty. The sun was lower in the sky. The air was sweet, but there was tang of salt in the air, too. All around me, short trees with nearly white trunks stretched their pale branches to the sky, and their vibrant green leaves swished in a gentle, warm breeze.
    “Where are we?”
    “Sicily,” Forculus smiled as he plucked a fig off a branch. He bit into it and smiled. “Ah, yes. You don’t get stuff like this in America, Corinthos. Try one.” I bit into the fig. It was sweet. The only time I’d ever had figs before was in Newtons. This was really good.
    “Hang on a sec,” I said. “Sicily and Boston are pretty close, latitude-wise. Shouldn’t it be winter here, too?”
    Forculus picked a bit of fig out of his teeth. “This is my domain,” he said, waving a hand around. “It’s only winter here if I want it to be. Now then, enough chatter about the weather. Let’s talk gateways.” Forculus rolled his shoulders like a fighter warming up for a match. “The obvious advantage to controlling gateways is the freedom it provides you. You don’t need these mechanized contraptions that humans rely on to fly from point to point, or those clumsy mechanical chariots. Just think about where you want to go and poof, you’re there.” He held up a finger to me. “But, for the clever, there’s more to gateways than just travel. Gateways can be effective weapons when employed properly.”
    “You mean like sending an enemy directly into Hell?”
    Forculus pursed his lips. “That would work, I suppose, but it lacks style, and those who reside in the Pit do not appreciate unexpected guests. Pull a stunt like that and you’ll likely find your adversary returned and a throng of angry demons charging you as well.” He shook his head. “No, the combat potential of a gateway is something else entirely. Allow me to demonstrate.”
    Forculus snapped his