Solon fixed each of his companions in turn with an unsmiling stare. “You must all remember what I say now. Engrave it upon your memories as you have nothing else in your lives.” He turned and pointed to the wall. “This wall tells the history of a very cruel time.” He stopped, and took a deep breath. “It is taught in the Temple that after the Chaos Wars, a period of great darkness descended upon parts of the world, as the forces of good and evil fought for a balance. Places like this have been found before, homes to demons and other ill-natured creatures, beings not of this world which must be banished whenever they are encountered.
“This wall tells a story. The details are not important. What is important, and what must be conveyed to my temple, is the news of this place, the very fact of its existence. No matter what else occurs, there are two things that we absolutely must do.
“First, we must return to tell my order so that they can cleanse it and seal it for all time. And, whatever else you may forget, you must remember to describe what you call the ‘empty window,’ and to tell the High Priest that I was certain it was the work of those who follow the Nameless.”
“The Nameless?” asked Kendaric. “Who is that?”
“If fate is kind to you, lad,” said Solon, “you will never know.” He glanced around. “Though I fear that fate is being anything but kind to us now.”
“You said there were two things,” observed James. “What’s the other?”
“That we must not fail in fetching home the Tear of the Gods. For not only would its loss prove crippling to us, I now know why it is being sought and by whom.”
“Why?” asked Jazhara.
Pointing to the blank space on the wall, Solon said, “To open a portal much like that one, and should that portal ever be opened, woe beyond imagining will fall upon us. No human, elf, or dwarf-not even the Dark Brothers, goblins, or trolls -nothing mortal will be able to withstand it. The mightiest of priests and magicians will be swept away like chaff before the wind. Even the lesser gods will tremble.” He pointed to the carvings showing inhuman creatures eating or raping humans and added, “And such would be the fate of the survivors. We would be as cattle, raised for their appetites.”
Kendaric’s face drained of color.
James said, “You faint again and I’ll leave you here.”
Kendaric took a deep breath and said, “I’ll be all right. Let’s just get on with this and find whatever is blocking my magic.”
They moved to a large pair of closed doors to their left. “They’re locked,” James said as he inspected them, and pointed to a pattern of jewels set in the door.
“Can you open it?” asked Kendaric.
“I can try,” said James. He inspected the device then said, “It’s a . . . magical lock, I think.” He swore. “Those are always the worst.”
“Why?” asked Kendaric.
“Because,” said James, “mechanical locks only stick poison needles in your thumb or blow up with a fireball if you make a mistake. I once had to open one that shot a nasty blade out that would cut your hand off if you didn’t move it in time, but magic locks can do . . . anything.”
Kendaric stepped back. “Are you sure you want to be . . . fiddling with this?”
“I’m open to other suggestions,” said James impatiently. He studied the lock closely. “There are six gems. And six holes with a faint color around them. Something that looks like a ruby, and a red hole. A green gem and a green hole.” He leaned in toward the doors, almost putting his nose to the lock. “There are tiny mirrors around the edge.” He sat back on his heels. He touched a small white gem in the middle. Suddenly light shot out in six spokes. “Oh, damn!” he said. He began frantically to move the tiny mirrors around the edge of the circular lock.
“What is it?” asked Kendaric.
Jazhara said, “I think James has to move each gem and mirror so that the light moves through the gem, changes color, and is reflected into the right hole.”
James said nothing, as he desperately tried to do just that.
“What’s the problem?”
Jazhara said, “Given James’s concentration on the problem, I suspect there may be a limit on how much time one can spend on it.”
James was about to move the sixth mirror-gem combination when suddenly the light went out.
Nothing happened.
Then from behind them came a sound.
Solon had his warhammer raised and James his sword out by the time they turned.
Within all nine niches, the skeletal warriors were picking up their weapons and shields and stepping down to the floor.
“This is bad,” Kendaric whispered.
William lay in darkness.
His last memory had been of striking the water and being swept along by the raging currents, then hitting his head against a rock.
He stood up and found himself dry. He looked at his hands and down at his body and saw no wound. He tentatively touched his face and head and felt no injury. No soreness or ache, not even a cut or bruise.
For a moment he wondered if he was dead and was somewhere inside Lims-Kragma’s Hall.
“William!”
He spun and found that he was standing inside the Rainbow Parrot. Before him, Bear held Talia by the throat, shaking her as a terrier shakes a rat. The huge man tossed her aside and she slammed hard against the wall. Her attacker hurried off through the door leading to the rear of the inn.