Endless Spiral
This piece is aptly named, as a spiral has been carved into the wall, though the unsteady cuts indicate that it must have been an early effort.
There has been no attempt to smooth the roughness of those lines, so it lends a rustic rather than mythical look to the curls turning ever inward.
Lighter wood grain peeks out from the grooves that have been winnowed out with time and patience, so the pattern has a certain illusive quality that makes one think that it might, in fact, be a portal or a doorway—that if one touches a specific point, an aperture might open to allow us access to the inner sanctum, where greater treasures or artistic endeavors might be stored, secured against prying and judgmental eyes.
But finding the pressure plate, that might be a riddle that only someone who loves the artist could solve.
Kerboros
I can’t believe I’m here again, after volunteering to save a stranger.
This isn’t the person I’ve been, but it feels more natural than the role I’ve been forced to play.
I center myself, mentally collecting the few facts that I know about Govannon like overripe apples plucked from the ground.
He loves a brownie named Ragh, he invents things and uses magic on those innovations, and he’s been stranded alone.
I imagine what his inner landscape will look like, and I envision that terrible tree growing on the rocky outcropping surrounded by stagnant water.
My mind carries me there, and I do discover him perched on that branch, just as he was when I found him the first time.
I waste no time in saying, “We must go. This is an illusion.”
Govannon snaps, “If it was so simple, don’t you think I would’ve done that already?”
“It’s not simple at all, for you have to trust me.”
“Trust you? I barely know you.”
I clench my jaw. “You’d rather remain immobile and defenseless, easy prey for whatever might be hunting you through mental warfare?”
“Perhaps I don’t care anymore. If I get eaten, I’ll be done with fear and loneliness.”
The impatience I’ve been battling eases. I cannot fathom his torment. Others suffering such a lonely exile might have already broken beneath the weight.
With some effort, I gentle my tone. “If you give up, you will never see Ragh again. Against all odds, against all common sense, he’s still waiting for you, though he’d never admit it.
The pain he feels at not knowing why you left will never cease.
What’s it worth to you? The chance to hold him, explain what happened, and cry happy tears together? ”
I can’t believe those words emerged from my mouth; Thea has changed me, an alchemical shift transmuting lead to gold. And that’s truer than anyone will ever know. Before getting close to her, my heart felt heavy as a stone, and now it glitters at the mere thought of her.
“Everything,” Govannon whispers.
“Then leap! I’ll catch you. And you will awaken.” I speak with enough confidence that he launches off the branch immediately.
I keep my word, and together, we chase the distant warmth that binds me to Thea, soul to soul.
My head feels fuzzy and strange, as if I have spent too much time apart from my physical form.
Thea steadies my elbow when my knees wobble, and I encircle her shoulders with my arm, pretending I need the support more than I do.
Govannon rouses, stretching his arms over his head. “Another trial passed. I appreciate the fact that you searched for me,” he adds.
“You’re one of us now,” I respond.
Rosa groans. “Macha’s tits. Get me out of here before something worse happens.”
“We can’t linger,” Tara agrees. “Exploration is out. Resting is unwise. This place is a threat on all levels. I’m surprised Govannon managed to keep his wits.”
“Debatable,” the gnome mumbles. “I do talk to myself rather a lot.”
Thea speaks in a hesitant manner. “I have a suggestion. My dad wrote a spell…” She produces a little book that she reads often, opening it to a particular page.
“This one. It deepens connections, and I thought maybe we could use it to pool our magic. One person might not be powerful enough to produce a portal and hold it long enough for us all to escape, but if we cooperate, it might work?”
“Fascinating idea,” Zeph comments. They have been eerily silent since emerging from their private hell.
“I’ll try anything,” Govannon adds, desperation etched on his weary features.
“I’m with the gnome,” Rosa says. “I’m in too.”
While I’m not thrilled with the notion of being bonded to everyone, even temporarily, I’ll attempt this since Thea suggested it.
I hope that only our magic will be shared, not my private ambitions and the threads I’ve been weaving.
I’ve given up on faking my death, but those who helped me slip my bonds could be harmed if others betray our connections.
Erdene exists at the epicenter of a silent resistance that has been undermining Liskaal for ages.
I hesitate, then make the decision. Though it’s potentially perilous and I could be responsible for so much harm if there’s too much overlap, I nod. This is a necessary risk.
“Can I read this spell before we begin?” Zeph asks, more tentative with Thea than they’ve been.
Thea stares at them, eyes narrowed, before deciding to allow the request. She hands over the book, and once Zeph scans the page, everyone takes a turn doing so. The ritual is simple enough, and she has the components in her bag. I admire her graceful hands as she arranges everything just so.
“So this is how you do fae magic?” The pixie doesn’t sound mocking or hostile. It’s just a question.
“My dad thought it would help me focus. It doesn’t come easily to me, you see.”
Rosa flutters over to Thea and pats her cheek. “Nobody’s good at everything. My handwriting is rubbish, nearly illegible, and I can’t even draw a straight line.”
Thea smiles. “Really? Your honesty is so comforting.”
“Is it? I’m just telling the truth. Pixies are straight talkers, you know. Never get any bullshit from our people, take us or leave us.”
“I prefer your approach,” Thea tells Rosa. “They drive me wild in the courts, never saying what they mean, taking forever to get to the point.”
“Tell me about it!” Rosa exclaims.
When Thea smiles, the atmosphere warms between them.
Rosa settles on Thea’s shoulder as she leads us in performing the steps together.
Next, we join hands, and at first, it seems like it’s not working.
We’re just awkward people holding hands.
But soon, my magic trickles out, joining Thea’s in a teasing tangle.
Her threads entwine readily with Taragon’s, and Zeph has woven their startling strength through Rosa’s tapestry of power.
Govannon’s shy magic surges last, until all our energies connect in a chaotic tangle.
All around us, wild mana crackles in reaction, slashes and arcs of color in hues that match our personalities.
This primordial energy is wild and uncontrollable.
“We’ll either open the strongest possible portal,” Tara gasps, “or blow ourselves up. Not sure which, but at least we’re together.”
Govannon manages a tight laugh. “I’ll take any change at this point.”
“Ready?” Thea asks.
Everyone nods.
Zeph turns to me with an unreadable expression. “You have the greatest skill with portal magic. I swear upon my life that I will not interfere this time. To give us the greatest chance at success, you should control the aperture.”
I don’t respond, but I take control of our joined energy, using my will to shape it.
The veil thins, and I reach for a familiar mushroom circle near the Autumn village, my intended destination before.
As the vortex forms in shimmering gold, Govannon cries out nearby.
A hideous, oozing thing rises from the water, red as blood, pocked with sticks and stones and moss and bones.
The monster seethes with mindless hunger.
The gnome shrieks and dives through the portal before I’m entirely sure it’s stable.
I don’t even know if I had the destination properly set. If he ends up lost again—
I struggle to hold the portal open as the creature undulates through the mire toward me, and I speak through clenched teeth: “Go! Get yourselves safe. Get out now.”
I can’t picture the mushroom circle at all, and oddly, there’s such a familiar pull, like Thea is on the other side of the portal. But that’s impossible. Perhaps it’s the last place we were? Please, not the Summer market—that would be no help at all.
Zeph is the first to comply, beckoning to Rosa. “Hurry, let’s move.”
The pixie follows him with a troubled glance in my direction.
Taragon rushes through right after, leaving Thea to cast me a desperate, frightened look.
The vortex hurts, screaming in my head as the magic tests the limits of my will.
As she dives, I move, trying to seal the portal as I tumble through, but the arcane force blows me off-balance, and the vortex oscillates wildly.
I need to close it, but it resists my tether.
Something is pushing, pushing, relentless need, and then I hear a thunderous pop—the monster follows us out, flopping with a slime-ridden squelch.
It keens and snuffles, and then come the slurping, hungry sounds.
The creature slithers toward a mortal woman, frozen nearby, mouth open in astonishment.
I’d ask who she is and what she’s doing here alone, but the portal is melting my brain, and that monster intends to eat us.