Promise: Caulborn #2 Read Online Free Page A

fingers, and a small gateway, about the size of a dinner plate, popped open to his left. It was angled such that I couldn’t see where it led. He threw a fig through it—
    —and something struck me on the back of the head. I spun around and found a fig on the ground behind me. A second gateway hung open in the air, level with my head. Through it I could see Forculus. I turned to him. “So you split the gateway. Put the entry point in front of you and the exit behind me.”
    Forculus smiled. “That’s exactly right. Thank goodness. I was afraid I’d need a puppet show to explain it to you. Now then, your initial gateways will only open to places you know very well, or places you can see. This limits their utility, but make no mistake, for the clever, even these hobbled gateways can be used in a variety of ways. Let’s start with something small. Open a gateway that leads to that stone over there.” He pointed to a gray and blue rock about ten feet away. “Relax your mind and picture an opening from point A to point B.”
    I cleared my head and looked at the rock. I imagined a doorway with square edges and clean lines forming in front of me. Nothing happened. I tried again, this time envisioning a circular portal. Nothing. “For someone who’s supposed to be my tutor, you’re not saying a whole lot,” I called. Forculus sat down and leaned back against the trunk of the fig tree.
    “There’s nothing more to explain, Corinthos. Either you can open gates or you can’t. Your adviser thought you had the potential, but perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe the human blood in your veins is preventing you from an ability that should be your birthright. I never did understand what Janus saw in human women. They always seemed so inferior, and the offspring they gave were nothing more than trouble.”
    Forculus had just committed one of the three classic blunders. The first two—never get into a land war in Asia and never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line—are pretty easy to avoid. However, number three is never insult my mother. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and tear Forculus’s head off. Something inside me cracked, and a ripping sound, like ten thousand sheets of paper being torn at once, shattered the still air. A tear in reality opened before me, an angry red gash about ten feet tall. It opened into blackness, and cold poured out of it.
    Frost suddenly rimed the nearby fig trees and the scent of decay, like rotting meat, spoiled the sweetness of the grove. In my mind’s eye, something alien, something with tentacles and claws lurked just beyond the rip. It was snaking toward me, ready to—
    Forculus was next to me in a flash and opened a gateway of his own, facing the tear. The alien monstrosity bolted through the tear and shot right into his gateway, which he slammed shut. He slapped me across the face, and the sudden shock forced me to release the tear, which sealed itself. The other god ran a hand through his hair. “Well that was fun,” he said. “Lesson one, Corinthos, always keep you mind focused on where you want your gateway to lead. If you get distracted, your gate may not open where you’re expecting.”
    I nodded, then punched him as hard as I could in the mouth. His head snapped back and he fell, but instead of hitting the ground, he opened a gateway, fell through—
    —and landed on top of me. Surprising me like he had, Forculus had no trouble pinning me. “Now then,” he said. “None of that. I apologize for what I said about your mother. Sometimes it’s necessary to arouse emotion to fuel your abilities, and that is all that comment was, nothing more.”
    Part of me wanted to immolate him, and that must have shown in my expression. He got off me and put up his hands. “You mother is a lovely woman, Vincent. I had dinner with her and Janus several times while they were courting. I assure you I won’t say anything like that again. Now that we know you have