The Hall of Doors

by Phillip Locey

  “Palomar doesn’t have that kind of time,” Saffron argued. “You saw what was after us, Be’naj.” She waited until the echo of her statement faded, then added, “I’m going back in after him.” No sooner had she raised her spear than a shape started materializing through the portal.

  Thaelios had already murmured the first words to his incantation before he saw the white light of Palomar’s weapon and realized it was the Aasimar returning. Saffron sprang forward and threw her arms around his neck, her feet lifting from the ground in the process, while Thaelios released a sigh of relief.

  “You made it!” Saffron exclaimed as she settled back on her feet.

  “Thanks to the Celestial armorers,” he said, resting a hand on his breastplate. “That Vrock would have impaled me had my protection failed. He withdrew once the Hezrou announced your escape, and I wanted to make sure they had no plans to follow before I crossed over myself.”

  “Do you mind if we fall back a little further to rest?” Be’naj asked. “The Rift makes me uneasy.”

  Saffron nodded.

  “Certainly,” Palomar agreed as they retraced their steps along the vast, empty tunnel. “I am sorry you ended up in such danger, though the Lower Planes are fraught with it. Hopefully you were able to glean something useful from the ruse?”

  “I think so,” Saffron replied. Once they had gotten far enough that the dark light and crackling of the Abyssal Rift were no longer detectable, they all drew their weapons to give the void a less sinister feel. After they’d taken seats in a wide circle on jutting rock formations off the main path, Saffron relayed as much of the interaction with Excaliana as she could remember, with Be’naj adding a few extra details.

  “So this demonic family seems pretty deeply involved with the Name of the Beast, though we still don’t know for sure what they want,” Saffron concluded.

  “It may be as simple as sowing strife on your world,” Palomar mused ruefully. “If this Marilith she referred to as the Lady of Anguish has half-human children, it could be that she was magically summoned to Elisahd sometime in the past. Many creatures harbor resentment at such intrusions, and she could hold a grudge because of it. Tanar-ri thrive on causing havoc and suffering and will always need targets for their incessant scheming.”

  “I found the mention of Rinn-Rhulian enlightening,” Thaelios commented. “That’s the name of an ancient eladrin citadel ransacked by humans during the Revenge of Arkmus. It’s supposedly hidden on the slopes of the Wyrmsmoke Mountains just west of Ifelian. It shouldn’t be too far from Pasaxtree, though I don’t know why a fiend from another world would find it significant.”

  “I asked about that,” Saffron answered, her voice achieving a higher pitch than usual. “Excaliana said it was … oh, something about the Spawn of Raug being trapped there.”

  “The Spawn of Raug?” Thaelios repeated.

  Dyphina leaned closer to him. “Does that have significance to you?”

  He shook his head. “Not personally. It doesn’t sound Eladrin to me. I wonder how it fits with Rinn-Rhulian …”

  “Are you jesting?” Dyphina laughed. She raised both hands in the air as if paying homage to a momentous occasion. “This is a glorious day in history! I’ve read about something the King of Books hasn’t?” she said, placing a hand dramatically on her chest.

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense!” Saffron prodded, unable to stifle a laugh of her own.

  “Alright, alright,” Dyphina calmed. “My father had this book of myths about the old gods he would sometimes read from at bedtime. My mother didn’t really care for the stories, saying that the world was a better place for the gods’ departure.”

  “Well, that’s not a lie,” Thaelios agreed under his breath, wondering if Dyphina actually had something helpful to contribute or if she was just taking the opportunity to capture an audience at his expense.

  Dyphina glanced at him sideways but still had a smile on her lips as she continued. “Raug was one of the old gods – a terrible monster who burrowed into the deep places of the world, sowing destruction and bloodshed. He was fond of caves and causing terror, and the lore holds that he created numerous descendants that carried his foul nature. That’s where the Rauglor, who whipped us in the mines, supposedly came from. And their smaller kin, the Rauggin.”

  “Ah, I was not familiar with these tales in Begnasharan,” Saffron offered. “So why would Rauglor be trapped in an old eladrin city?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Thaelios interrupted, content that Dyphina’s childhood stories were nothing more than speculative fancy. He might, however, benefit from a little more research on the banished Avatars once they returned to Ifelian. “Eladrin wouldn’t abide such creatures nearby, and we don’t keep captives. Furthermore, there is nothing about the aesthetic of eladrin society that Rauglor would find appealing.”

  “Would you just listen?” The smile had vanished from Dyphina’s lips. “Rauglor and Rauggin are only the sapient descendants of Raug. There are many others, at least according to my father’s book. The most terrible were simply referred to as the Spawn of Raug. These were huge, wild beasts that caused widespread destruction in the time of the Avatars. One story told how Eriane implored Raug to control his children, as they’d killed numerous mortals and smashed entire settlements in their wake.”

  “They sound awful,” Be’naj said, barely loud enough for Thaelios to hear.

  “They were,” Dyphina agreed. “Raug simply laughed and refused to rein them in, so Eriane convinced Hurn the Hunter to intercede. Hurn’s Avatar tracked them one-by-one, but they were too difficult to slay, so he drove them into a magical prison devised by Trigilas, the Father of Spells.”

  Thaelios thought it was an interesting tale, especially since they’d seen some of Trigilas’s work firsthand, but he wasn’t about to put full faith into eladrin history as told by an outsider. “And we’re supposed to proceed on the merits of one of your bedtime stories?” he asked.

  “I didn’t say anything about what we should do next,” Dyphina countered. “I’m all for finding a pleasant garden somewhere on Mount Celestia and lounging around for a few weeks of well-earned relaxation.”

  “I don’t think it matters whether the story is completely true,” said Be’naj, standing from her rocky, makeshift bench. “Myths often contain a seed of history, and it’s enough to at least make a connection in our case.” She sheathed her arming sword, and the resulting shift in shadows, combined with her blackened wings and hair, gave her a sinister appearance. “We heard from Excaliana herself that the cult has plans for Rinn-Rhulian. It’s clear to me just from what I saw in the Doomwait that we cannot sit idly while she enacts her plans. I just … don’t know what we can do to stop her.”

  “From Dyphina’s story, it sounds like the Juda-cai – your old gods – at least knew what they were up against regarding the Spawn of Raug. Perhaps we should endeavor to seek their council? I know that Jaiden Luminere regularly communed with Criesha, and I served her cause while fighting beside him on Elisahd. She may be willing to hear our petition.”

  As preposterous as that sounded to Thaelios, Palomar looked eminently regal, standing with wideset feet in his brilliant armor. He had just held back a winged demon singlehandedly and probably knew more about the workings of the cosmos than the rest of them combined. Perhaps it wasn’t crazy to hear him out.

  “But how would you go about asking her?” Saffron took the question from Thaelios’s lips.

  “Shecclad has spoken to me,” Be’naj said. “I heard his voice in my trance-vision.”

  This time, Thaelios spoke up. “But have you ever directly asked him a question?”

  Be’naj shrugged. “I offer prayers.”

  “The Doomwait has gateways to more than just the Abyss. The most prudent solution, though I’m hesitant to suggest it, may be to ask Ivaldi. He might know of a direct passage to Ishmere, the Plane of the Juda-cai.”

  Saffron visibly shivered. “I don’t like the thou
ght of heading back there at all. What if Excaliana has set up an ambush?”

  “I agree that it’s too dangerous for the two of you to return,” Palomar said, looking to Saffron and Be’naj. “And I would likely draw the attention of any Tanar-ri, should they be waiting.”

  Of course, that only left him and Dyphina, and Thaelios started squirming in his own skin at the premonition that he was about to be asked to foray into the Doomwait without any true protection. The question didn’t come, though, and in its absence and the silence that followed, a small kernel of a voice, somewhere deep inside him, was making him feel like a coward for not offering. He imagined Saffron would ultimately be willing to go, despite her recent experience. Was it his turn to step up, for Cauzel’s legacy?

  “I’ll go back in,” Dyphina said meekly, breaking the silent staring contest. She shrugged and her voice grew surer, “I’ll disguise myself, though it might help to have someone along who knew the native language …” She flashed her bright, moss-green eyes unabashedly at Thaelios.

  “Well, you know me,” he admitted, “any excuse to learn new things …” In reality, he was terrified, but everyone responded with enthusiasm and appreciation at his and Dyphina’s decision, smiling and clapping them on the back. It was an unusual sensation – feeling needed. Thaelios found he quite liked it, and for the moment, some of his dread abated.

  “It might be best to head back directly,” Palomar mentioned. “That way you can be out again before our enemies have time to formulate a plan, though that is not a specialty amongst Abyssal creatures.”

  “Yes, I’m all for getting this over with,” Dyphina agreed. They started back to the Rift, and Dyphina cast her alteration spell again, taking on the appearance of a sallow-skinned, sickly waif, almost mimicking a creature of undeath.

  Before they stepped through the scar of humming energy, however, a thought occurred to Thaelios. “What do I do if Ivaldi wants more payment for his information? We have no Celestial feathers to bargain with,” he said, gesturing to the decrepit Dyphina and himself.

  Palomar shrugged. “I doubt he will want more of the same.”

  “You’re a well-read sage yourself, Thaelios,” Saffron encouraged. “Trade him information.” She winked and Be’naj nodded, though he presently couldn’t think of anything a creature like Ivaldi, living in the Doomwait, would find useful.

  “Come on,” Dyphina said, grabbing his hand, though he instinctively recoiled, due to her appearance. “If we don’t just go, we’ll no doubt find endless excuses not to leave.”

  Thaelios allowed himself to be pulled toward the Abyssal Rift, closing his eyes to ward against some of the disorientation as they stepped in. He only hoped he lived long enough to regret this decision.

  As soon as he felt solid ground beneath his feet once more, he opened his eyes and became alert, looking and listening for signs of demonic presence. The background of the crackling Rift made the task difficult, but he was loath to move beyond reach of the portal. Everything looked uniformly dull as before.

  “Are you all right?” Dyphina asked from beside him. Only then did he realize he was crouched and unmoving, his dagger clutched tightly in his hand.

  Thaelios eased his posture and nodded, then without words – as both listened for trouble in the gloom – they started off in the direction they thought they remembered Palomar leading them before. The perpetual haze played havoc with his spatial orientation. No landmarks could be seen to reference – even up and down seemed to matter little, though he trusted his head remained above his feet.

  What seemed like hours later, the ground asserted its claim to existence by shaking beneath their feet, accompanied by a low rumble seeming to come from deep below. Dyphina reached out and grabbed Thaelios’s arm for balance, though his own knees were in danger of dropping him off his feet.

  “What’s going on?” she cried, panic clear in her voice.

  Thaelios was sure the ground was about to crumble to pieces, when the shaking suddenly stopped, and he remembered what the sage had mentioned during their previous conversation. “That must be what Ivaldi referred to as a tremor-cycle,” he laughed nervously. While he felt less apocalyptic than a moment before, his heartbeat was palpable in the tips of his fingers.

  Dyphina released his arm and shivered. “I thought that was the end.” She pressed her palms together, raised them to her lips, and exhaled. “Alright, at least we haven’t been harassed by any locals. Do you think we’re still going in the right direction? I don’t see any lights, and it feels like we’ve walked for an eternity.”

  Thaelios frowned. “I was wondering the same thing. Is it possible we’ve not kept straight? I don’t know how we can be sure …”

  She sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t help to guess – that’s a quick way to get lost. I just hope we find something before something finds us.”

  They kept walking, and time stretched on until Thaelios could hardly stand it. “Perhaps talking will help, after all. At least it’ll give our minds something else to do. For all we know, these demons can smell us from a mile away, anyway.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Dyphina answered. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Thaelios’s mind immediately went to losing Cauzel and how their lives would be different, even if they got back to Ifelian after all this. He wasn’t sure how discussing that would make him feel, though, and shifted to a more recent loss that didn’t sting so much. “That was too bad how Phaerim met his end. I wonder if he’s got any family that Saffron could track down once this quest we’re on is over.”

  Dyphina’s neck twisted quickly in his direction. Her mouth opened slightly and her brow furrowed as she stared at him, before looking away. “He’s got two parents and a younger sister in Pasaxtree, and I will tell them,” she said.

  The resoluteness in her voice surprised Thaelios. “Oh, I didn’t ever hear him talk about his family. In fact, none of us talk very much about our families, do we? Do you think that’s because thinking about such things would only make us miss them more?” He was the youngest of three, and had always craved the respect of his older siblings. It was a strong reason that he studied so hard and pursued Shaping in the first place. He was eager to show his brother and sister all he’d learned already. He watched Dyphina for her reaction, though given her current visage, his eyes practically begged him to look away.

  She poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek before responding. “Saffron has a younger sister, Dhania, whom she helped rescue from the harem of a ruthless king. Phaerim takes – took – jobs as a merchant guard and always brings his sister, Jolea, a gift from whatever towns he visits. Be’naj is an only child who doesn’t even know her own father, and I am the offspring of a kind Warden and a Wood Nymph, who fell in love despite their differences because they are wonderful beings with open hearts who taught me to be the same way.” Dyphina had run out of breath, and when she choked on a sob, Thaelios noticed for the first time she was crying.

  “Has my question upset you?” he asked, confused at the outburst of emotion. Perhaps she was redirecting her fear of being nearly alone in the Doomwait – Thaelios certainly felt some of that as well.

  Dyphina shook her head and wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I just—” she sniffed loudly and stopped talking.

  Uncomfortable at her sudden sadness, Thaelios looked straight ahead. “I … How do you know so much about everyone?”

  “I talk to them, Thaelios. While you’re always reading, I talk to them, and we share our lives with each other. I could probably tell you a few things about Zygrim, too, if you wanted.”

  Thaelios’s cheeks immediately grew warm. How much had the others seen? Did Dyphina overhear what Zygrim said to him on the day they left the Wolfspider’s gladiator pens? “I, uh, don’t really need to know anything else about Zygrim. He’s in Zeblon – I don’t know why I’d ever see him again.”

  Dyphina sniffed again, and he could feel her turning toward him. �
�Whatever you say.”

  He thought he could hear a smile in her voice. Searching for a distraction, he stood in place and turned in a circle under the guise of gaining his bearings. To his surprise, almost directly behind where he thought they’d just come from, he could see a dim glow in the hazy distance. He sheathed his dagger to extinguish its light and create more contrast with their surroundings.

  “Do you see that?” he asked as Dyphina swiveled to investigate what had drawn his attention.

  She squinted, her half-human eyes not quite as sensitive to light as his. “Torches?” she asked.

  “It’s certainly something,” he replied. “Should we head that way?” He turned back the way they’d been going and couldn’t spot anything, not even a horizon.

  Dyphina hesitated, still squinting. “Aaaahh, I suppose so. Even if it’s not Anarchiapolis, maybe you can ask for directions.”

  Thaelios hoped it wouldn’t come to that, now that he didn’t have Palomar or Saffron around to back him up. He drew his dagger again, finding its white aura a comfort, and took longer strides than before toward the source of the light. With something to focus on, time didn’t drag so much, and as they got closer, it certainly seemed like they were approaching a settlement.

  The shapes of the buildings were still irregular, and even if they were in Anarchiapolis, even in the right section, he wasn’t sure how they were going to find their way around. He’d need to ask someone, but thought he’d wait until he found a creature unlikely to try and eat him. Thaelios kept his dagger out, weighing the deterrent of a Celestial weapon more important than the impression of neutrality. They still looked different from the fiendish population, either way.

  Thaelios wandered the crooked alleys between buildings, waiting for wayward telepathic thoughts to alert him when they were nearer sentience. Dyphina kept close behind on his left side, one hand resting on the hilt of her undrawn weapon. They focused so much on looking for movement every time they turned a corner that Thaelios completely missed the leg strewn out before him until he tripped over it.