by Brian Keene
“I have fasted according to the Nomos, which is the Law, and have eaten none which is unclean and have drank only water. I have avoided spilling my seed and have abstained from worshipping at the temples of Ishtar or Lilith. Thus, I have kept my essence and remained pure for thee.”
Maria almost giggled when Levi mentioned spilling his seed, but managed to remain quiet.
“My lanterns are of the appropriate and required color. With them I have cast light upon the four Gates of the Earth, and have done so with only the guidance of the moon. I face the Northern Gate. There is no roof or lamp above my head, save for the sky. I have done these things in accordance with the Nomos, which is the Law. And thus, I command thy attention.”
Pausing, Levi picked up the broken silver spoon and placed the sharp edge against the ball of his thumb. Maria shuddered, biting her lip to keep from crying out as he pressed the silver into his flesh, slicing his thumb. He didn’t flinch or moan, gave no indication that he’d felt it. He held the wound over the copper bowl and squeezed three drops of his blood into the oil. As each drop fell, he repeated the same phrase:
“Ia unay vobism Huitzilopochtli. Ia dom tergo Hathor.”
Maria tried to decipher the words. Some of them sounded Aztec or Mayan in origin. Others sounded Egyptian. And the rest seemed like total gibberish. She remembered what Levi had told her about the Daemonolateria. She’d commented that it sounded like Latin, and he’d corrected her, saying it was from a language that didn’t exist on Earth.
Humming, Levi held his thumb against his pants leg until the bleeding had stopped, and then he continued.
“I sit in the appropriate and required manner, safe inside a circle of protection. You may not molest me. I come here to open a gate. I come with awe and respect. I come seeking passage. I call upon the Gatekeeper, who gave to us the Nomos, which is the Law. I call upon the Doorman, who is the Burning Bush and the Hand That Writes and the Watchman and the Sleepwalker. I call upon he who is called Huitzilopochtli and Ahtu. He who is called Nephrit-ansa and Sopdu. He who is called Hathor and Nyarlathotep. I call upon he who’s real name is Amun. And thus, by naming thee and offering my blood thrice, I command an opening.”
Levi reached into the basket again and pulled out a worn paperback. The spine was cracked and a sales sticker from the used paperback store was affixed to the creased corner. The book was When the Rain Comes by Adam Senft. He held the book over the north-facing candle. It smoldered, then caught fire. He then placed the flaming paperback on top of the copper bowl. Smoke curled out from around its edges. The bowl’s contents must have been flammable because the fire quickly flared. The scent of burning oil became almost overpowering. Levi’s voice grew louder.
“This is the avatar of the one I seek. By following the Law and naming thee, I command you grant him safe passage to this place. He may not be harmed or molested by those who dwell between the walls or within the halls, or the denizens of Heaven nor Hell, or the realms between them, or the Thirteen, or the things that live in the wastes beyond the levels. Nor may he end up wandering and lost in that realm beyond the Labyrinth, in which there are no exits save death. I command thee, and so shall it be.”
Levi breathed a heavy sigh and then sat up straight. His body stiffened, his shoulders tense and rigid. His eyes remained fixed on the burning book. Maria’s legs were beginning to cramp. She started to stir, but Levi held up his hand, silencing her. Keeping still, she watched the flickering fire expand as it consumed paper and oil and blood. A plume of smoke curled lazily from the ashes. At its base, the fire remained only as wide as the mouth of the bowl, but the flames reaching into the air grew taller and wider. First a foot, then two. Maria shrank away from it. She felt the heat, smelled the singed hair on her arms. It didn’t seem to affect Levi. Beads of sweat ran out from under the brim of his hat and into his eyes, yet he remained motionless, unblinking.
His attention was focused on the fire.
It blazed higher. Impossibly so. Despite the diminutive bowl and the spare amount of fuel therein, the fire towered far over their heads. The flames changed color—first yellow, then orange, then a deep red. The smoke dissipated, leaving only fire. Maria leaned forward slightly and peered into the bowl. The oil and paper were gone, yet still the fire burned, even without any combustible fuel. The flames turned green. Instead of crackling, the fire hissed. Still, Levi did not move. Maria reached out and grabbed his arm, but he brushed her away. Reluctantly, she turned back to the blaze.
There was movement in the center of the emerald flames. As Maria watched, a scene unfolded, as if the fire was a window looking out on somewhere else—the interior of a small room. She saw grayish-white, featureless walls, devoid of paintings or fixtures. The flames expanded, revealing more of the room. There were three more walls, a yellow-tiled floor, and a single, heavily barred window. The details were stark and clear. To her amazement, she could see through the window. Maria realized it was looking out on the hospital’s parking lot, directly at the spot where she’d been sitting earlier that morning.
The room was empty of furnishings. A naked lightbulb hung suspended from the ceiling. A lone iron-framed bed sat in the corner against one bleak wall. A man lay on the bed, sleeping. He was covered in a single sheet and gray blanket. As they watched, he sat up, rubbing and blinking his eyes. Then he looked directly at them. His expression was one of astonished disbelief.
He can see us, Maria thought. Just like we can see him.
She recognized the man right away. Two years had passed. He looked different than he had in the newspaper clippings and his dust jacket photo. His face was lined and haggard and his once-thick hair had been shaved down to stubble. He’d lost weight. His wrists were twigs and his cheekbones stood out at sharp angles beneath his skin. His goatee, once neatly trimmed and jet-black in the pictures on the inside back cover of his books, was now wiry and washed with white. Not gray, but pure white. But it was his eyes that had changed the most. In photographs, his eyes had always hinted of amusement, or perhaps mischief.
Now, Adam Senft’s eyes just seemed haunted.
Maria felt a sudden wave of sadness, but didn’t know why.
Adam ran his hand across the top of his head, gaping at them. His mouth moved, but he made no sound.
“Mr. Senft,” Levi said, “please don’t be alarmed. We’re here to help you.”
The author’s voice drifted out of the flames, faint and faraway. “Y-you…this is…but I’m awake. They said the medicine would stop this. I’m dreaming.”
“You are not dreaming, Adam. I assure you of that. But you must listen to me. We are here to help you. We can get you free. But you have to hurry. The gateway won’t stay open for long. Can you move?”
“Y-y-yes…”
“Then step through the door,” Levi urged. “Quickly!”
“You—you’re Amish.”
“Not really. It’s a long story.”
“Do you drive a horse and buggy?”
Levi paused. “Yes. But I don’t see what—”
“Why do you drive a buggy if you’re not Amish?”
“The price of gas has increased quite a bit since you went into this institution. We’re at war. But that’s not important right now.”
“Why not? It’s my dream, right? I get to make up the rules.”
“Please,” Levi pleaded. “We know what really happened to you. We know about Hylinus and Nelson LeHorn.”
Adam cringed, pressing himself against the wall.
“My father was Amos Stoltzfus,” Levi said into the flames. “Do you recognize that name?”
Senft’s stutter had returned. “H-he was one of LeHorn’s p-peers.”
“That is correct. And I am his son. I believe your story, Adam. So does my friend here.”
“Nobody believes me,” Adam sighed, lying back down on the bed. “They don’t understand.”
“We believe you,” Levi insisted. “But it’s not over in LeHorn’s Hollow, and unless you want
what happened to you to happen to others, you’ll come with us. We need your help. I can’t do this without you. Now hurry!”
Maria heard the rising panic in Levi’s voice. Then she noticed that the flames were starting to shrink again.
Adam sat up again, staring at them. Then he shrugged.
“I’ve read a bit about lucid dreaming. I guess if I don’t like where this is going, then I can just change it. Wake myself up again. Right?”
“That’s fine,” Levi nearly shouted in exasperation. “Just hurry up. Come through the door.”
The flames continued to die down, now flickering at a level even with their heads.
Adam put on a pair of slippers and got out of bed. He approached the portal with caution, slowly reaching out his hand. He reached through it tentatively. When he wasn’t burned, he stepped inside…
…and walked out into the circle of protection, nearly knocking Maria and Levi over. Adam toppled, losing his balance. Still sitting cross-legged, Levi reached for him. Adam pulled away, heading for the edge of the circle. His foot hovered over the line of salt.
“No,” Levi shouted. “Don’t break the—”
Adam stepped out into the thicket. Immediately, the flames changed color again, burning black against the darkness. The scene inside the fire changed, no longer showing Senft’s room. Instead, it looked like the surface of another planet. Boulders and red sand covered the desolate landscape. The rocks looked like they were rotting, as if they were organic. Something beyond their view roared. The noise wasn’t audible. Maria heard it in her mind.
“What the hell is that?” she screamed. “Is that what we’re fighting? The thing with no name?”
“No!” Levi shouted. “That’s something else. Hold on!”
She stared, transfixed, terrified but unable to look away as the doorway widened. The roar ceased. She felt the air around them rush past her as it was sucked into the rift. Her hair fluttered and her thin gold necklace began to writhe around her neck, slowly defying the law of gravity. The candles wobbled, the flames flickering but not going out, despite the strong wind. The alien landscape grew clearer. A dark mountain range towered over the red desert. Some of the cliff faces looked carved. She studied them closer, and was suddenly dizzy. Like some otherworldly Mount Rushmore, one of the mountainsides had been turned into statues. But instead of four famous presidents, these figures represented something monstrous and obscene. Tearing her gaze away from the creatures, Maria saw a metallic flash on the horizon, just at the foot of the mountains.
“What’s that?” she screamed again, pointing at the silver object.
Gritting his teeth, Levi lashed out with his foot and knocked the copper bowl over.
He shouted, “Ut nemo in sense tentat, descendere nemo! At precedenti spectaur mantica tergo! Ia Amun traust nodrog! Amun, Amun, Amun!”
The flames vanished, along with everything else. Levi leaned back on his elbows, breathing heavily.
“What the hell was that metallic thing?” Maria asked again.
“That,” Levi gasped, “was your tax dollars at work—one of the robotic rovers that NASA abandoned on Mars. Judging from its position and the surrounding landscape, I’d guess it was the Mars Pathfinder.”
“Mars? But there were statues! There aren’t any statues on Mars.”
“Well, that’s what it was.” Levi nodded toward Adam. “And this is the man that almost got us killed.”
Adam shrugged. “Like I said—lucid dreaming.”
“Mr. Senft.” Levi slowly got to his feet and extinguished the candles. “What you just did—the damage you caused…Well, let’s just say I’ll be paying for that sooner or later. Hopefully later, at the end of my days.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Consider yourself lucky for that small blessing. Let me assure you that this is no dream. We’re playing with lives here. Yours, hers and mine. That was a Sumerian spell and—”
“I know,” Adam interrupted. “I know. The green fire and the portal—I recognize them from one of LeHorn’s books.”
“So you did have all of his books, then?” Levi asked.
“Not all of them. Just his copy of The Long Lost Friend. And his journal. And parts of another book—just pages, really. Everything else got burned up in the fire.”
He hung his head and shuffled toward them.
“I know this isn’t a dream,” he said, bursting into tears. “And I know I’m not crazy. What I am is fucking scared! I miss my wife and I just want some fucking peace, and I don’t want to go through this shit again. Can you help me? Please?”
“Yes,” Levi whispered. “We can help you. And more importantly, you can help us.”
“How?”
“All in good time.”
“Don’t play that Phantom Stranger bullshit on me, man.”
“First, let’s get you away from here. I’m sure they check on patients throughout the night?”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, they do. Fucking Schmidt—he’s one of the orderlies—peeks in through the door windows all night long. Shines his flashlight in and wakes us up. He thinks it’s funny.”
“Is he on duty now?”
“Yeah. He’s one of the overnighters. A real jackass. Messes with us all the time.”
“Well, let’s get you out of here before he notices you’re missing.” Levi studied Adam’s cotton drawstring pants and short-sleeved, pullover shirt. Both were a bland shade of green. They looked like pajamas, and the institution’s name was stenciled across the back in big, black letters. “And I suppose we’ll need to find you some clothes.”
“Are we taking my car?” Maria asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since the fire had gone out. She’d been unable to find her voice—afraid that if she opened her mouth, she might start screaming, or worse yet, crying. She’d never been more terrified in her life. This was real. No more doubts. No more questions. Levi had ripped a hole in the fucking air. A hole made of fire. And Adam Senft had stepped through it. It was magic, plain and simple. The proof was standing directly in front of her. She felt dizzy and nauseous and her arms and legs tingled as if asleep. She’d just been confronted by something she didn’t believe in, and her convictions had been found wanting. She was afraid to breathe, afraid to blink, worried that if she did, something else might happen.
“Yes,” Levi said, retrieving the rest of his items and putting them back in the basket. “Can we reach it without attracting attention, or do you think you should go get it while I hide Mr. Senft here?”
“Wait a second.” Adam held up his hands. “Look, don’t think I’m not grateful. You got me out of there, and I appreciate it. You’ve got no idea just how much. But I’m not going anywhere with you until I know exactly who you both are. You said you were Amos Stoltzfus’s son?”
Levi picked up the wicker basket. “That’s right. You may call me Levi.”
“And you do powwow, just like your old man and Nelson LeHorn did.”
Levi nodded. “Yes, among other disciplines.”
“No fucking kidding. I’m pretty sure what you just did wasn’t powwow.” Adam turned to Maria. “And who are you?”
“Maria Nasr.” She held out her hand. “I’m a freelance writer, currently putting together a book proposal on the hollow and the LeHorn murders.”
Adam frowned. “You said murders. Plural. But Nelson LeHorn only killed his wife.”
Maria paused. “Well, as I’m sure you know, there are other murders connected to the hollow.”
“So you’re writing about me, too? Me and Tara?”
“I…” Maria turned her eyes to the ground.
“You’re just another scavenger,” Adam accused. “Trying to make a buck from someone else’s pain and suffering.”
“No,” Maria insisted. “It’s not like that.”
“Please,” Levi said. “We can discuss all of this later, after we’ve gotten clear of the area. If they find us now, we’re all in trouble. We’ve got more important
things to worry about.”
He turned to Adam.
“You said you wanted our help. We can give you that. Others can only imagine the pain you’re feeling. The things you’ve been through. But I don’t have to imagine them. I move in that world every day. Let me help you.”
“You said you needed my help, too.”
“I do,” Levi agreed. “Hylinus and the tree-spirits weren’t the only dangers in LeHorn’s Hollow. Something else is there now—an entity more powerful than either of those. It’s forcing its way into our world and if we don’t stop it by tomorrow night, then the horrors you faced will pale in comparison to what will happen to all life on this planet.”
“Jesus…” Adam rubbed his shaved head. “What can I do? I don’t have any special abilities. I don’t know any magic. Not anything useful, at least. All I did was fool around with those books we took from LeHorn’s house.”
“That’s how you can help,” Levi said. “The police never obtained LeHorn’s copy of The Long Lost Friend. It was still in your possession at the time of your arrest, but it was never logged into evidence, nor was it found by the family who moved into your old home since then.”
“A-another family lives there now?” Adam’s voice cracked.
“I’m sorry,” Levi apologized. “You hid the book, didn’t you?”
Adam nodded, his mouth working soundlessly.
“And these loose pages you mentioned—do you remember if some of them were inside the book?”
