The Hall of Doors

by Phillip Locey

  Be’naj nodded, grasping her right wrist to manage the pain. Just as Dyphina started pouring water over Be’naj’s hand, a snarling scream made Thaelios jump in his skin, nearly causing him to drop his Celestial blade.

  “Saffron! Are you all right?” Be’naj called out, though the sound hadn’t seemed human in origin.

  “We’re safe,” Palomar responded, still beyond sight, “though we’re now short a guide.”

  “Not that we could trust that one,” Dyphina noted under her breath. She replaced the waterskin and rummaged through Be’naj’s pack to find the bandages. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to grip your sword for a while, Be’naj. At least not comfortably.”

  Be’naj nodded, but stared at Thaelios while Dyphina wrapped her hand, communicating her intention to remain useful.

  White light, piercing gaps in the shelves, announced Saffron’s and Palomar’s return. It took several minutes for them to navigate the twists and turns of the stacks before coming into view themselves. “This place is endless,” Saffron said, slightly out of breath. Stray curls of her dark hair made her appear as frazzled as she sounded.

  “How are we supposed to find what we need?” asked Dyphina. She looked back at the transport chamber. “We don’t know that we’re even on the right level.”

  “I believe we are,” Thaelios countered. “I can still read Abyssal, even if my conversational skills have atrophied. The glyphs that lit up roughly translate as ‘Extra-Abyssal Planes, Rarely Traveled.’ That seems accurate for Ishmere.”

  Saffron walked to the nearest row of shelves and propped her spear against it. It was lined, just like the others, with fist-sized, cubicle bricks of a stone similar to the outside of the spire. She lifted one from its resting place and hefted it.

  Thaelios moved closer and saw that, like the wall of the transport, the surface of the stone was marked by a second, smooth material in the shape of an Abyssal rune. “Torimath,” he read. The rune lit up, its radiance soft and blue.

  “Is that the name of a Plane?” Saffron asked.

  Thaelios shrugged. There were more Destination Stones on this level of the repository alone than he had memories in his head – bookworm or no, there was no way he could be familiar with all of them. “I would postulate so.”

  Saffron replaced the stone on the shelf. “So is there some sort of indexing, or do we have to wander this entire structure trying to find a singular brick amongst this?” She extended and slid her palm through the air to indicate the vastness before them. “The entire Tanar-ri army is likely to be outside by the time we succeed.”

  “I have an idea,” Palomar said. He sheathed his sword. “That stone responded to its rune being called out. If we sheathe our weapons and make it completely dark, I can use my song to project my telepathy beyond its normal range. If I fly above the shelves, calling out for Ishmere, I should be able to pick out its light in the darkness.”

  “That’s brilliant, Palomar,” Be’naj said, patting the Aasimar on the shoulder with her left hand. Thaelios nodded his agreement as the others murmured theirs.

  “Put away your weapons, please – the darker the better.” Everyone did as asked, and Palomar began singing.

  Goosebumps pricked along Thaelios’s arms, for Palomar’s voice had a haunting quality in the utter blackness. Its sound was joined by the flapping of wings, both of which receded as Palomar rose toward the ceiling, high above. Silence resumed as the singing ceased – the Aasimar was too far away to hear his flying. Then, piercing the stillness, the repeated echoes of “Ishmere,” blossomed in Thaelios’s mind. All he could do was hope and wait. Worry about what might be gathering on the surface had just started to creep in when the telepathy changed.

  “It worked. I found it!”

  One of the women hissed, “Yes!” but Thaelios couldn’t tell who it was in the dark. In another few moments, the flapping of wings and the soft blue glow of the Destination Stone heralded Palomar’s return. Saffron uncovered the tip of her spear, which had been hidden beneath her shield on the floor.

  “That’s the one, right?” Dyphina asked.

  Thaelios took a closer look as Palomar held out the cube. Already, its rune was fading, but sure enough, it read ‘Ishmere.’ “That’s it,” he nodded. Without need for another word, they packed into the transport chamber and Thaelios scanned its walls for the glyph that would take them back to the ground floor.

  As soon as the panels opened again on the ground level, a peeling screech from the Quasit greeted them. It leapt from its perch and flew out of the main doors into the heavy Abyssal air beyond. The forge fires cast their eerie red glow upon the nearby landscape, and when Thaelios reached the exit, he found his earlier fears weren’t baseless.

  Silhouetted by the firelight were a quartet of demons: presumably the Vrock who escaped, a pair of additional Babau, wielding glaives, and a hulking monstrosity three times Thaelios’s height. This Tanar-ri was not only tall, but thick, looking almost squat despite its height. It had wide horns like a bull’s, strong arms that ended in sharp, serrated pincers, and a pair of proportionally tiny humanoid arms in the center of its chest, as if an unlucky mortal had lost its limbs, only to have them sewn near the demon’s heart.

  Thaelios had seen something like this from afar when the battle began near the Abyssal stair, but up close the sight incited panic. The ground shook when this giant took a step forward, for the demons had clearly spotted them.

  “Glabrezu,” Palomar stated, his tone tinged by awe. “We should run. Run!” he yelled, his voice more urgent than his usual serenity suggested possible. The Aasimar tossed the Destination Stone to Thaelios, pointed to his left, then drew his weapon and faced the demons.

  The others obeyed, sprinting in the direction Palomar had pointed, though Thaelios quickly fell behind. His knee throbbed, and though he struggled to block out the pain, it slowed him nevertheless. He glanced over his shoulder to check on the singing Palomar, who had taken to the air and was now enveloped in a cocoon of white light. A blow from the Glabrezu’s massive pincer nearly knocked the greatsword from the Aasimar’s hand, but Thaelios had to return his attention to his footing, lest he trip again.

  He was past the forges, heading back into the darkness, with the clang of metal and snaps of thunder exploding behind him. As sure as he was that Palomar was a force to be reckoned with, Thaelios felt certain the Celestial was overmatched. He had the sinking feeling the recent past was playing out again as the light of Saffron’s spear grew more distant ahead of him. Was he going to be left behind once more?

  He switched the Stone to his left hand and drew his weapon, determined not to sprawl to the ground a second time. The short blade created a swirl of disconcerting shadows as he ran, its movement making him dizzy. The pain in his knee was getting worse, and his breath grew ragged as he pushed himself to his limits. And still, Saffron’s light grew dimmer.

  Sparing a look back, the red glow of the forges was far behind, painting a nightmarish horizon, but Palomar’s white was gone. “Thank you, friend,” Thaelios said aloud, though there was no one to hear him. The futility of trying to keep up seized him, and he realized that if the demons used his light to pinpoint him, they may be able to teleport instantly to his side. As much as it felt like suicide to do so, he stopped running and sheathed his weapon.

  A blood-curdling screech from somewhere above startled him as he tried to catch his breath. He looked upward but could see nothing. Panic caused him to take off again, but after a few steps he stopped, sure that his leg would fall off in protest should he continue. The weight of the Destination Stone in his hand compelled him to squeeze it. His own despair was heightened by the realization that, without this artifact, none of his companions would have a chance to escape, either. The calm of resignation slowly replaced his dread. They were all doomed.

  As a last act of frustration, he lifted the Stone above his head to smash it on the ground. Before he could, a swoosh of air and a startling impact lift
ed Thaelios from his feet. Only, he didn’t hit the ground.

  “I’ve got you,” Palomar grunted, the flapping of feathery wings proving he was real through the blackness.

  Thaelios struggled to keep from dropping the Stone, which was still extended awkwardly. “How did you find me?” he asked after managing to tuck the cube against his chest.

  “I too can see in the dark, though not as far as the Tanar-ri.” His voice was clear but sounded strained. Though concerned, Thaelios was too frightened to question why.

  “Were you victorious?” he asked instead.

  “My legs are broken, my sword as well, but I’ve bought us some time. It should be enough … behold!”

  Thaelios felt ashamed for his albeit unvoiced complaints, but after looking toward the ground ahead, all that was forgotten. In the near distance, lightning danced between unseen clouds, and beneath it swirled an enormous whirlpool of animate chaos. Grey caps highlighted the dark matter of its shadowy substance. From the air, the phenomenon looked to be a mile or more across.

  At the closest edge, Thaelios spotted the white lights of his friend’s weapons, all drawn. Palomar descended toward them, the sound of a mighty wind reaching Thaelios as they approached the Chaos Cyclone. The women looked up in surprise when Palomar got close enough for them to hear his wings, but relaxed when they recognized him. The Aasimar set Thaelios gently upon the ground, but continued to hover.

  Dyphina skipped forward and threw her arms around Thaelios. “I was so scared we’d lost you again!”

  “How did you escape, Palomar?” Saffron asked, relief coloring her words.

  “There will time for tales, later,” he replied. “We should leave the Abyss as soon as possible.”

  “What do we do next?” Thaelios extracted himself from Dyphina, hoping to help along the process.

  “As there is only one Destination Stone, we must we create a chain of contact to it holder. Join hands.”

  Keeping the Stone clutched firmly in his left hand, Thaelios sheathed his weapon and extended his other arm. Dyphina’s expression sobered, and she put away her weapon before locking her fingers around his wrist. Saffron’s face went grim before she dropped her spear and shield, then held Dyphina’s open hand. Next came Be’naj, and lastly Palomar, who had to stretch to reach her while staying aloft.

  “Now, Thaelios, activate the Stone by speaking its rune, and we should all enter the Cyclone on the count of three.”

  “Ishmere,” Thaelios uttered. The Destination Stone lit up, its blue light adding a ghostly tinge to his skin. He took a deep breath and counted down, “Three, two, one.”

  Together, they jumped into the swirling shadow. The sensation was similar to leaping into a tall pile of sand. Thaelios sank immediately past his knees, then slowly descended further as they were whisked away along the rim of the spinning Cyclone. It seemed to be moving much faster than it had when observed from above, now that he was in it. Palomar was still higher than the others, only into his knees while the rest had sunken to their waists.

  Thaelios continued to hold the Stone up high, though he wasn’t sure he needed to. The churning was nearly deafening now, and the spinning disorienting. He had just closed his eyes to see if that would bring some calm when he felt the Destination Stone lifted from his hand!

  His eyes shot open to see the Quasit from the obsidian spire flying across the Chaos Cyclone, their only hope for survival securely in its grasp. He looked in panic to Dyphina beside him, but her whipping green hair hid her face. Thaelios could see, however, that she’d released Saffron and extended her free arm toward the miniature demon.

  A trio of illuminated bolts launched from her fingers and struck the Quasit, who dropped the Destination Stone into the Cyclone before crashing down itself. Thaelios struggled in horror to pull himself free from the Abyssal shadow, but could manage to lift only a finger’s length before continuing to sink. The Destination Stone seemed to momentarily float on the surface of the Cyclone, a handful of body lengths away, taunting him. Though not physically far, it might as well have rested back on Elisahd for all he could reach it.

  At the end of the line, which Thaelios could see as they curved along the spiral of the Chaos Cyclone, Palomar was also fighting to break loose. Not yet as deeply submerged as the others, and able to use his furiously flapping wings for leverage, the Aasimar pulled free and flew to where the Stone had now sunken beyond sight.

  Palomar plunged back into the churning waves of Chaos, reaching beneath the surface to grasp for the Destination Stone. Thaelios was now down to his armpits, watching helplessly as Palomar struggled to retrieve what he had lost. Finally, with a triumphant stretch, the Aasimar hoisted the rune cube high over his head.

  His wings were now caught, however, and more of Palomar’s body lay hidden beneath the surface than was above it. He struggled briefly, then relented. The noise of the spinning maelstrom filled Thaelios’s ears, and he doubted he could have heard himself speak, but Palomar’s telepathy cut through clearly.

  “I cannot get free, my friends. I will toss the Stone, and one of you must catch it. It has been an honor to know you, and I will not truly be lost if you remember me.” With that, Palomar hurled the Destination Stone in their direction. Thaelios could see hands reaching for it, but was nearly under himself and wasn’t sure what happened. He felt Dyphina’s hand tighten around his wrist, and then he was beneath the surface.

  Thaelios instinctively held his breath. His ears popped, then all became completely calm, like he was weightless in an endless sea.

  Chapter 12

  Ishmere

  I n an instant, Be’naj’s body was crushed so thoroughly that she almost didn’t recognize it drifting away beneath her, drawn by a weight she no longer felt. She didn’t feel anything, she realized, though the lifeless sacks of her companion’s crumpled forms joined hers in a relentless journey toward the bottom of some unfathomable sea.

  Glancing around, she found three translucent spheres floating beside her. Their outer surface was defined by a pale, golden light, with a bright spark suspended in their center. Beyond the aura created by their glow was midnight blue, which quickly darkened to solid black with distance.

  Be’naj’s consciousness continued, though she experienced it differently without a corporeal anchor. She had no mouth to speak but concentrated on sharing her thoughts, wondering if perhaps that was how Palomar expressed himself.

  “Can anyone hear me?” she thought. “Is this real?”

  “Be’naj, is that you? What is happening?”

  It sounded like Saffron, though Be’naj could only assume the thoughts were coming from one of the nearby spheres of light, as they were the only things around. Was that what she was now as well?

  “It appears the transition to this world has resulted in a replacement of our physical forms …”

  That was clearly Thaelios, and Be’naj witnessed one of the glowing globes pulsing in time with his thought-speech. She could still see, she realized, but it was from the inside of this bubble that now encased her consciousness.

  “Dyphina, are you here, too?” Saffron said.

  Before Be’naj heard a response, however, her mind turned to Palomar. There were only three other spheres present, so what had become of their Aasimar companion?

  “I am, but gods if this isn’t strange,” Dyphina answered.

  “Did anyone see what happened to Palomar? Did he go under?” Be’naj didn’t have any reason to expect her companions would have an answer, but she wasn’t quite ready to accept a reality where they’d lost him completely.

  Thaelios answered after a short silence, “I’m sorry, friends. I lost the Stone – it’s my fault he’s gone.”

  “We’re not doing that,” Saffron said. “Neither laying blame, nor giving up. We’re going to find Palomar.”

  Be’naj loved Saffron for her certainty. Of course, Thaelios couldn’t let it stand.

  “And how are we supposed to find anything?” he asked. �
��We don’t even have bodies anymore.”

  From a great distance, further than Be’naj felt she had any right to see, a pulse of light, small but steady, flashed like a lighthouse beacon. “Do you see that?”

  “See what?” Dyphina responded. “Besides us, everything is darkness.”

  “There it is again!” Be’naj was sure, now. “Some sort of blinking, very far away. I think we should head for it. It’s calling to me.” She realized it may sound strange, but Be’naj actually felt the same sense of guidance that came with her trance-visions. She was confident that they should follow, only, she wasn’t sure how to move.

  Putting all her focus toward reaching the beacon, Be’naj’s mind-sphere starting moving, or at least it seemed to, relative to the others. “You just have to concentrate. Try to follow me,” she said, unsure she should feel quite as pleased as she nevertheless did.

  Be’naj found she could look in any direction without it affecting her movement, and soon the others had mastered propulsion as well, gliding through their environment with mental effort alone.

  “Is this Ishmere?” Saffron asked. “Can the gods live in such a desolate place?”

  Thaelios responded, “Little is known of the Juda-cai, beyond what we’ve extrapolated from their Avatars in ancient times. What we need to figure out is how we’re going to get our bodies back.”

  “Shecclad will help us,” Be’naj stated, growing ever more confident as the beacon grew larger in the distance. If this was the world of the gods, then it must be the Sky Lord calling to her. “Surely you can see it now?”

  “The space around us looks turquoise, probably because of our light,” Dyphina answered. “But that quickly fades to black, Be’naj, and I don’t see anything more than a few body-lengths out. Well, the length of what our bodies used to be. What will I do if I can never touch again?”