Free Summer by Sarah Remy

The dirt shifted under Summer’s feet as she half-walked, half-slid her way slant-wise into the grade. Bits of mineral or glass in the sand glittered in the flashlight beams. She heard dripping water and smelled more damp, and something else that stank like rot and sewer.
    “Corpse-stink,” Lolo said, breathing through his mouth. “That’s the sluagh . ”
    Summer’s scalp prickled. “Are they here?”
    “No,” Barker said from the shadows, making Summer jump and fumble her flashlight. “It’s their prison you smell.”
    “Fuck!” Lolo hissed. “Can you be less dramatic? Almost pissed my pants, you bastard.”
    Barker murmured a word in the Gaelic. The pit went all bright and white and stark, then black again. Summer blinked, momentarily blinded.
    “The Gate sucks it away,” Barker said. He sounded mild, but Summer thought she could smell his fear mixed with the corpse-stink. “Starlight. My torch lasted only a moment before the batteries died.”
    Summer’s own flashlight began to flicker in reply. She switched it quickly off, alarmed by the dying strobe.
    “Didn’t used to do that,” complained Lolo. “Always just spat out monsters.”
    “Where is it?” Summer demanded as Lolo’s light faded. “I can’t see it. It’s too dark.”
    “Look.” Barker took her shoulders. “This way. The moon has mostly set, but you can see a glint off the water.”
    At first Summer didn’t understand. Then she saw it, all at once, a blacker patch in the darkness, and at its center a shifting gleam: faint light off the roll of waves, but so far away it was like watching the neighbor’s television one apartment building over.
    “I can see it now.” She stretched out a hand, but the reflection of moon-on-water stayed out of reach. “It’s floating. Winter’s portal.”
    “Sluagh door,” said Lolo, disgusted. “What’s it doing here? Used to be all the way down past L’Enfant.”
    “It moved.”
    “No shit. How’d it do that?”
    “I’m not positive.” Barker tried Gathering starlight again. It flashed and then fizzled, but this time Summer knew what she was looking for, and caught a quick glimpse of the Gate itself: a man-sized tear in the air, no wider than a bathtub, floating at knee-height.
    “It needs to be closed,” Barker said. “Before it begins to suck in more than light and warmth.”
    “Like a black hole,” Lolo said.
    “You can’t close it!” Summer argued, frightened. “Not if Winter’s in there!”
    “Is he? Lorenzo, are you certain?”
    “I saw him go in. Dunno if he still is.”
    “It’s a one-way door,” Barker murmured. “Shoddily made by a child who didn’t know what he was attempting and was lacking in both knowledge and power.”
    “It can’t be one-way. You’re wrong. Win wouldn’t leave us behind. He promised Mama.” Summer made herself speak calmly, one word at a time, willing Barker to understand. “He has to kill the queen, and save Mama. You know he has to. We have the sword, we have Hannah.” She wanted to shout, but thought her father would disapprove. “Winter promised . ”
    “Summer.” Lolo’s hand found Summer’s in the dark. He squeezed her fingers. “Calm down. We’ll figure something out. Win will figure something out. He always does. He’ll find a way back, because you’re right, he wouldn’t leave us.”
    She heard Barker shift, Barker who was always sill.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s possible your brother didn’t know. Either way, the Gate needs to be closed before the sluagh grow restless again.”
    “No. I won’t let you.” To Summer’s shame, she felt tears overflow her lashes and drip down the side of her nose. “You can’t. I’m Siobahn’s daughter, princess of the royal blood. And I’m telling you: leave it open!”
    Lolo’s hand slid up her wrist, tightening. She thought he meant to pull her out of range in case Barker flipped out. She was wrong.
    “Summer,” the boy said. “He’s right. You’ve