by Brian Harmon
“I don’t understand.”
Don’t worry, Nicole. You will.
“How do you know our names?” Wayne asked.
Dear Wayne, she said, as if his question amused her. I know you. I’ve been watching you all for a long time.
“Why were we given the box?” Albert asked, unable to wait any longer for this answer.
Yes, said the Sentinel Queen. The Box. I owe you an apology for sending it to you. It was not really the way it was supposed to be done. You were supposed to find your own way here, but time has grown short.
“Then it was you who sent it to us,” Brandy said.
I sent it, she confirmed. Someone else delivered it. Do you know how I’m talking to you?
“You’re in our heads, aren’t you?” Wayne replied.
Yes. It’s a psychic connection. You see, the place I speak of, the place from where humanity came and to where it should someday return, is a place rich with psychic energy. Over the past few thousand years, humanity has been evolving toward its return there. More and more people are born with a heightened ability to see without seeing and hear without hearing. Those with very good psychic senses can feel that place from which humanity came. It calls out to them psychically. The world’s most powerful psychic minds have been drawn here throughout history, obsessed with finding that place that calls to them.
Albert remembered the bones in the decision room. Those were some of those psychic minds, he realized, and perhaps whatever poor souls had traveled here with them.
One such person was Wendell Gilbert. But the road to this city, what you call the Temple of the Blind, was designed to keep these people from returning prematurely, because they are not the ones who are meant to return. Throughout the temple there are psychic guardians, horrific beasts bound in a higher plane. Only the psychic can see them and only the psychic can be harmed by them.
“That’s what killed Beverly!” Nicole exclaimed. “She said she was psychic!”
That is correct, said the Sentinel Queen. They had walked beyond the sight of the pool now. Towers rose around them, empty and gloomy. On their left, a great hole plunged into the darkness below.
“Is that what killed Wendell Gilbert, too?” Albert asked. He remembered that the chamber beyond where they found his body was almost identical to the one in which Beverly had apparently lost her mind. And there were no apparent wounds on his body to indicate a physical attack of any kind.
That is also correct. Wendell Gilbert was obsessed with this place, but he could not get through it because of the thing that killed Beverly Bridger. For most people, psychic or not, that would have been the end of it, but Wendell Gilbert was not just a psychic. He was also a genius. He entered the temple for the first time when he was only twenty-two, and he spent the rest of his life trying to find another way in. He was a brilliant architect, and over the next forty years, he honed his craft into the tool he needed. He built Gilbert House as a shortcut to bypass the temple, the city and the road beyond, but he made a grave miscalculation.
“That forest,” Albert guessed, “with all those things in it.”
That place does have a name. It translates simply into “The Wood.” It surrounds the place Wendell was trying to reach. When he discovered his error, it was already too late. He bricked up the first floor to keep out the things in the Wood, but he couldn’t keep everything out. One of the things that got in was the beast that attacked you, but there were more. Beverly Bridger could not enter Gilbert House because of what lives on the fourth floor.
“What lives on the fourth floor?” asked Brandy.
If you wish to keep your sanity, you do not ever want to know.
Brandy shivered. They had made it all the way to the third floor of Gilbert House. What if that thing had not attacked them? What would they have found on the next floor?
“Why was Beverly afraid to touch me?” Albert asked.
The Sentinel Queen shook her head. That I do not know.
Albert lowered his eyes to the ground. That seemed grossly unfair. Was the only person who could answer that question now dead?
When Wendell Gilbert failed to find another way in, he came back to the temple to try again.
“How did he get so far,” Nicole asked, “if he couldn’t get past the thing that killed Beverly?”
He went the other way, replied the Sentinel Queen. He went through the labyrinth.
“How did he do that?”
That I also do not know. Perhaps it was merely luck. It does not matter. He is dead now and can do no more harm. But the harm he’s already done is much worse. Gilbert House is closer to that place than the temple is. It is a shorter road. It gives off stronger psychic vibrations, so more psychic minds are able to hone in on it. They will come and they will probably die.
“Can we destroy it?” Wayne asked.
That would be a very bad thing.
“What do you mean?” Wayne didn’t understand. How could destroying that place possibly be a bad thing?
Gilbert House is a doorway. If you simply destroy it, you throw open the door.
“And those things in the Wood come pouring out,” deduced Albert.
At the very least, yes. The world would be consumed by those that walk the Wood. The greater threat, however, would be that the delicate fabric between this world and that, already damaged where that structure stands, would be shredded completely. The end result would be that your world, smaller by far, would ultimately be swallowed by the Wood.
“That…would definitely suck…” Wayne agreed.
It has happened before, the Sentinel Queen informed them. To other worlds. It is a terrible fate. She continued to walk. She did not turn to look at them as they spoke, but Albert felt that she was watching them nonetheless. He could feel her looking at him, examining him, even with her back turned.
Psychic minds of higher sensitivity cannot pass through this world, she continued, yet it takes a psychic mind to feel the way, to pick up on the negative vibrations of the traps and the positive vibrations of the correct path. To pass through the temple, you must have a perfect balance of psychic and natural skills. Though everyone is a little psychic, there are few people in this world who have that perfect balance. You, Albert and Brandy, are two of them.
“Wait,” said Brandy. “You mean I’m psychic?”
More so than most, replied the Sentinel Queen. But less so than others. The fact that you are still unaware of your psychic abilities makes you stronger, more stable than more powerful psychics. That is why I chose the two of you. Nicole and Wayne, by contrast, possess weak psychic minds like the majority of your species. That is why it took them much longer to hear my singing and tune in to me.
‘Your species,’ Wayne thought. It was hard to believe he was hearing this.
“So why the box?” asked Albert. “Why not just tell us?”
I’m allowed to interfere very little. I would not have sent you the box at all had time not been running out for us down here.
“What do you mean?”
Many millennia ago, humanity first passed through this city’s north gate. There were fourteen of them. All were women. All were pregnant. Thirteen passed through the south gate on their way to your world, which was still new. The last stayed here in this city and gave birth to me. She died when I was still very young and with her died much of what was known about where those women came from. I then gave birth to the people of the City of the Blind, men and women without eyes, who maintained the roads to the south and the north. At one time I had many thousands of children, enough to fill every chamber of this city. She gestured at the empty towers that rose up around them. But time was not as lasting to them as it is to me. The man who led you to me is the last of his kind and he is very old. When he dies, so will I, and the City of the Blind will again be empty. When that happens, it will crumble. So will the gates and the roads. Humanity will no longer be able to return to its rightful place. I spent a great many millennia waiting for som
eone to return, but the way back was too difficult to find. Over the centuries, the temple has become hidden. The original tunnel no longer exists. The entrance became lost in the jumbled labyrinth of tunnels beneath your city. I began to fear that no one would ever come, and then my entire existence would have been for nothing. Therefore, Albert and Brandy, I took the risk and I did what was in my power to contact the two of you.
“What risk?” asked Albert. “Why were you not allowed to do more?”
I am not allowed, replied the Sentinel Queen.
Albert opened his mouth to ask more, to tell her that she had not answered his question, but she stopped and turned to face them. The sight of her naked body was almost startlingly erotic, and yet she was grossly deformed. The north gate is straight ahead. You must hurry. I hope I’ve been helpful to you.
Albert stared into the darkness that must have been north. “But how did you get the box into my car?”
The psychic part of the mind is very susceptible to suggestion, the Sentinel Queen told him. Neither of you locked your doors on the day you received your item because I told you not to. My son took the two packages to an open grate near the campus and a man named Peter Yowler picked them up and delivered them to your unlocked cars at the specified times. Peter is a sweet man whose brain was badly damaged in an accident when he was only a child. He hardly knew he was doing it. If you found him and asked him today, he wouldn’t remember a thing.
“I see,” said Albert. He was actually a little disappointed. He had imagined so many things since receiving the box and the answer seemed so simple, so…ordinary. “And when you say that the psychic part of the mind is susceptible to suggestion…did you help me solve the clues on the box?” He remembered feeling as though something was nudging him toward the final clue when he discovered the number twelve panic button outside Juggers Hall. And then there was the way he had known somehow to knock down the wall at the temple’s entrance.
A little, admitted the Sentinel Queen.
Albert nodded. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On one hand, it seemed like such a violation, and yet the thought that she’d been watching over him was also somewhat comforting. “But those phone calls,” he remembered. “Why did you call us to Gilbert House if this was where we were supposed to be?”
I was not calling you to Gilbert House. I was calling you here, away from Gilbert House.
Albert glanced at Brandy, confused. “Then you didn’t send us the envelope that told us how to get into Gilbert House?”
No. The envelope was Beverly’s, not mine. It was her obsession alone that brought that place into your lives.
“But she said she didn’t send me the envelope. Who did?”
I do not know.
Again, Albert felt frustrated. It was like Beverly intentionally left him without all these answers. “And what did the gold mean?” he asked. “Why were we given those gold coins?”
Those were just pieces of metal to us. I sent them to you as a thank you for coming, even though you didn’t finish. I had hoped that it would bring you back again someday. And if not the coins, then perhaps the sight of my son would keep the Temple of the Blind in your thoughts until you were ready to return. Now hurry! The road ahead will be dangerous, but you’ve proven yourselves worthy by navigating the temple.
But Albert stood his ground. “Tell me why we had to give up our clothes,” he said. “That man…your son…told us that the hounds could smell them, but you know that doesn’t make any sense.”
It is the way it is done. The water here has a special quality that helps. The rest is faith. It always has been.
What the hell did that mean?
Now go.
“Go where?” Albert asked. “You haven’t told us where we’re going. What are we supposed to do?”
You must find the doorway. It is the key to the future of your entire world.
“I don’t understand.”
You will. Now go.
Albert hesitated for a moment, wanting to ask more, wanting to know more. There was so much he didn’t understand, so much she was refusing to tell them. But at last he began to walk. He was not sure why, perhaps it was that psychic suggestion she’d mentioned, but he believed the Sentinel Queen, and he trusted her. And he was certain she’d tolerate no more questions. Brandy and Nicole followed after him.
Not you, the Sentinel Queen said, and Albert and the girls turned to see that she had one grotesquely long hand clamped onto Wayne’s shoulder, holding him back. You have something else you must do.
Wayne looked up at her, surprised, and then looked at the others. “But…”
I’m sorry, said the Sentinel Queen. She was talking not to Wayne, but to the others. I must take him away from you. You must make the trip without him.
“Why?” asked Wayne, confused.
You must take a different road.
“Why?” asked Albert. He did not like the idea of losing Wayne. Wayne was big and strong and intelligent. He needed him to help keep Brandy and Nicole safe. After all they’d been through, he wasn’t sure he could do it by himself.
Because Olivia needs him, she replied.
“Olivia?” Wayne could not believe his ears. “She’s still alive?”
She is now. But I can’t say how long she will be safe. You must rescue her. She’s alone and frightened in a very dark world where she does not belong.
Wayne looked at Albert, his eyes bright and hopeful, but unsure.
“Go,” Albert told him. “If she’s out there, you have to bring her back.”
“Please, Wayne!” Nicole begged him.
It will be dangerous, said the Sentinel Queen, but he is capable of surviving on his own and you are more than capable of surviving without him. Now go!
Albert, Brandy and Nicole turned and headed toward the north gate.
The Sentinel Queen led Wayne west. For a long time they walked in silence, passing empty stone towers and wide, shadowy holes, until at last the city’s outer wall appeared. That is the first seal, she told him, pointing toward a great slab of stone set into the wall. This passage travels under the Wood. Its only name literally translates to “Road Beneath the Wood.” It was long ago sealed with fourteen seals, one for each woman who passed through the north gate. I will travel with you past this one, but not past the second. I don’t know how many seals are still intact. Some day, the things that exist in the Wood will break through them all. They are desperate to get out. They want to come to a living world, but they must never be allowed to do this. Before that happens, the road will have to be destroyed, and there will no longer be a road to the Wood. Not from here, anyway.
The seal was a half-circle of thick stone, twelve feet high. There were a number of markings on it, but none of them made any sense to Wayne.
Watch, said the Sentinel Queen, and placed the palm of her grotesquely long hand inside a circle on the left side of the seal. The great stone slab moved effortlessly away from her hand, turning like a revolving door on its center and opening onto an earthen tunnel the same shape and size as the seal. The Sentinel Queen urged him inside.
Several yards ahead, there was a second seal.
Listen carefully, said the Sentinel Queen, gripping his shoulder for emphasis. Always close one seal before opening another. Never linger long in one place. Do not touch the roots of the trees that grow in the Wood. If you see something in the darkness, do not investigate it. If anything should call your name while you are down here, do not answer. You must ignore these things. When you pass a stone marker in the road, you must not look back. This is important. No matter what you hear or feel, you must not look back. You must not stop walking and you must not run. Do nothing but walk straight ahead until you pass the second marker. If you fail to do this, you will die. Only after passing the second marker may you look back. The things in this tunnel are imaginary as long as you don’t prove them otherwise, do you understand?
Wayne nodded. He was suddenly very afraid. He wished h
e didn’t have to travel this road alone.
Good. The Sentinel Queen tugged at his shoulder so that he would turn to face her.
Looking up at her, Wayne felt uncomfortably aroused. Looking upon her was like seeing some personal fantasy acted out before him in perfect detail. He could not believe that something so repulsive could be so stunningly sexy.
Good luck, my dear Wayne. Before you go, I have something to give you. A gift from me.
Wayne had not realized just how aroused he was until she took hold of him with her long, bony fingers. Oh God! he thought as he felt her gentle caress. He was fully erect, almost throbbing against her warm hand. His heart began to pound. He wanted to tell her to stop, but all the strength had run from his body. All he could feel was that part of him she held, the part of him that sent shockwaves of pleasure straight up his spine and into his very brain. What was going on? What was she doing to him?
In his mind’s eye, he saw Laura Swiff, slowly peeling off her shirt, revealing her round, heavy breasts, seductively licking her lips. The Sentinel Queen moved closer to him and he actually felt Laura’s breath upon his neck, then her lips. He was horrified, almost repulsed, but he was also turned on, more turned on than he had ever been in his life. He felt the Sentinel Queen put her free hand behind his neck as the strength left his legs.
As he felt himself being lowered to the floor, he actually saw Laura crawling toward him on her hands and knees, completely naked, a hungry gleam in her muddy eyes. Then he was inside her. He was inside Laura. He was inside the Sentinel Queen, yet they both seemed to be one and the same. Laura arched backward on top of him, her hands clawing at his chest, wildly enjoying the feel of him inside her and he marveled at how magnificently sexy she was. Then he saw not Laura but Nicole, her pretty, dark eyes staring down at him, so kind, a sweet smile upon her face as she bent forward and kissed him. But when she pulled away, it was neither Laura nor Nicole, but Olivia, so pretty, so sweet. He was not inside her, was not having sex with her. He was only holding her. She was still dressed, still innocent. There were tears in her eyes. She needed him. She needed him to rescue her.
