by Peter Ponzo
"Oh no, not again," he groaned, frowning at the door of minute proportion. "Maybe I'll wait out here. Charlie? Can you get me something to eat?"
The one in white placed his hand upon the door of stone and the opening grew and a light shone from within. Thomas grinned, stooping and passing through the larger opening into the chamber beyond.
"Gee, thanks Chuck. Now, how about that cheese sandwich?"
The chamber was bathed in a golden light and the circle of Miriens sat about a pit from whose depths the light came. Gloria sat among them, beckoning to Clayton and Thomas.
*****
"So tell us Gloria, how did you wind up joining the ranks of the little people?" Clayton gulped the last of his red wine to wash down the bread and fruit. Thomas was supplied with trays of fruit and long spears of green vegetable and loaves of dark bread. The one in white apologized for a lack of cheese sandwiches, providing a flagon of red wine in its place.
"Well," Gloria began, "I woke up early and wandered along the stream a ways. It was pretty dark and I couldn't see much, but I knew I could find my way back. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by the Miriens. They looked pretty fierce with their little swords all pointing in my direction. Then Charlie stepped forward and made a little speech, well, not so little actually. I was scared I'll tell you, but he talked so softly and looked so cute I couldn't imagine that he'd hurt me. Anyway, I put up my hands. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? That's when he saw the amulet. It shines in the dark you know. Charlie looked at it and mumbled something to the others in a language I didn't understand and they all pointed their swords straight up and started to bow in my direction. Charlie was bowing too. I felt ten feet tall. I bowed too; I didn't know what else to do. Then they led me back here and Charlie told me that the Dark Lord had spies everywhere and they thought I might be a spy."
Gloria sipped from a silver chalice of wine and looked at the one in white who bowed and tipped his green hat. She smiled sweetly and continued.
"He told me that the Dark Lord was taking over the whole world and they were worried he would soon come to Dragomir. I think this Dark Lord lives in some other Kingdom in back of these hills. I'm not sure and I hate to ask Charlie too much. He takes forever to say anything."
Clayton Chaplain leaned forward and whispered.
"What about the amulet? They must think it's magic or something."
"Yes, it makes me a goddess, actually. They recognize it, or so it seems, and it sure is potent. Did you see how they all bow when I go by? I never got that kind of respect back home."
"We've got to find out where Gordon is," Clayton said in a low voice. "Let's ask Charlie if he's seen anything." He turned to the one in white and spoke aloud. "We have lost a friend, my brother. He came to your world some days ago, or maybe it was just yesterday, and we have come to find him. Can you help? Have you seen him?"
The one in white raised his hand and the chatter from the circle of Miriens ceased and they waited for him to speak.
"We have not seen a stranger in this land except for the dark and evil birds which soar for the Prince of Darkness, across the sea of grass to the blue hills where we make our home, hidden from the eyes of the hordes and from the evil gaze of -"
"Charlie, thanks for the info," said Thomas. "But how do we find Gordy? That's his name, the guy we're looking for: Gordon Chaplain. Where do you think he is?"
The one in white took his green cap from his head, placing it in his lap and speaking softly:
"You must ask the Ghost of Chalma for she knows all that passes and all who breath the air of Sharlain from the green dragons of the abyss to the creatures of the sea whose fountains of foam rise from the blue waters to the -"
"And where will we find this Ghost," interrupted Gloria, hoping for a short answer. The one in white was about to speak when Gloria raised her hand, then continued. "Charlie, answer my question in ten words or less. That is what I command." The one in white lowered his head and pondered the request, then spoke:
"By the Mountains of Mune."
"And where are these mountains?"
"They lie beyond the blue hills where the light of day seeks refuge from the dark of starless night that sweeps across Dragomir to the far side of the -"
"Uh ... that's good, very good." Gloria placed her hand upon his head and the one in white blushed red with eyes that sparkled amid a tangle of beard. "Tell me Charlie, is he really a ghost, this Ghost of Chalma?"
"She is the ghost of the Wizard of Chalma whose mortal body was taken by the King of Light after the battle of Kloma in the last Age when the Wizard fell before the hordes of the Dark Lord and the King bade the ghost arise from the body of the Wizard so that the Wizard need never again fear death and might battle forever the evil Lord at the right hand of the King, as she did, placing the Dark Lord in the Black Abyss so that the World of Sharlain would be free of -"
"Charles," said Clayton, "if the Wizard died during the battle of Kloma, then came back as a ghost, then defeated the Dark Lord and put him in the Black Abyss - I assume I've got it right so far - then how come the Dark Lord is out again? Why isn't he still in the Black Abyss? And while you're at it, you might explain how the Ghost of Chalma got him into the abyss in the first place, and whether you think he could do that again?"
"In ten words or less," chuckled Thomas.
The one in white thought for a moment, took a deep breath and began:
"Dragons guarded the door to the Black Abyss, dragons of Monash, with powers beyond those of the Dark Lord, given them by the King of Light, but the power to corrupt is a power of evil and is greater than the power of good and the Lord is master of these powers so the dragons were corrupted and placed the Door at the entrance to the Black Abyss and gave to the Prince of Darkness the words that would open the Door and the Dark Lord used these words and came again to the World of Sharlain and he corrupted the Beasts of Filope so they would carry the black horsemen at his command and he corrupted the Ardens, people of Wilo-ard, so they would fashion the weapons of death and he corrupted -"
"Uh, could you go on to the last part of my question: how did the Ghost of Chalma get him into the Abyss in the first place and can he do it again?" interrupted Clayton.
"Clayton," said Gloria with a wide smile, "you must realize by now that the Wizard of Chalma, and subsequently the Ghost of Chalma, she's a she, she's not a he."
The one in white continued.
"The Dark Lord pursued the Ghost of Chalma and was led to the Black Abyss and the dragons of Monash were placed at the entrance so that the evil one might not leave but the ghost might leave, as she is a ghost, and she did so, returning to Sharlain in victory and we rejoiced and planned the Feast of Chalma which we celebrate to this day so that all may know of the -"
"Okay ... now, could he do it again, uh, could she do it again? Could the Ghost get him into the Abyss again?" Clayton leaned forward, intent upon the response.
The one in white hung his head and lowered his voice so that they all leaned forward to hear him.
"The dragons of Monash are now in league with the Dark Lord and have renounced the King of Light."
Gloria smiled at the remarkable short sentence. She lowered her voice as had the one in white, and spoke:
"This Door, provided by the dragons of Monash, to the Dark Lord in the abyss ... would you call it the Door of Monash?" She raised her hand and added, "Yes or no."
"Yes."
"How many such Doors are there? A one-word answer would be just fine, Charlie."
"One."
Thomas looked excitedly at Clayton. "Hey! Didn't we see that Door inside the mountain with the golden tower, with the bloody big lobster?"
The one in white whispered once more.
"There is but one Door and it lies within the Black Abyss, beyond the Mountains of Mune."
Gloria whispered to Clayton. "It seems that a whisper will elicit a short sentence. We must remember that." Then sh
e continued, loudly. "Tomorrow, we'll head for the Mountains of the Moon." She frowned. "Funny, they don't seem to have a sun in this world, or stars. Why would they have a moon?"
CHAPTER 8
Wilo-ard
The amber light of morning had turned to the yellow of midday when the small band of Miriens reached the end of the line of trees. Clayton stopped as did Thomas and Gloria, waiting for the one in white to speak.
"The Stream of Life flows through the blue hills and here we must leave the arms of the forest to walk into the glare of the day, seeking to hide from the watchful eye of the Prince of Darkness, from the messengers of doom, the Beasts of Filope which soar in the sky to carry the news of our coming to the Dark Lord that he may -"
"Charles," said Clayton, "shouldn't we wait until dark? That way we might be able to get to those mountains over there without being seen. I take it they're the Mountains of the Moon."
The one in white nodded and raised his hand and the Miriens began to chant:
We seek your strength to fight this day,
to guide our step and show the way.
Give us courage that we may die
with swords of honor raised on high.
We seek thy favor but shed no tear.
This day we fight for Dragomir.
"Jeesuz," muttered Thomas. "Are we going to fight something? Chuck? What's this all about?"
The one in white pointed to the sandy plain which reached to the far mountains rising white-peaked on the horizon. He said no word and Thomas leaned to see more clearly the dark shapes that swept across the distant sky, soaring and circling and closing to the small band at the edge of the forest.
"Beasts of Filope, alone, without the black horsemen," grunted a Mirien.
"Looks like trouble," said Gloria, turning to the one in white. "Shouldn't we go back, into the woods?"
The one in white shook his head and reached beneath his robe, withdrawing a stout blade of steel which shone in the yellow day. Gloria stepped back into the shadow of a tree and gazed at the approaching horde, thirty in number, winging their dark way to the laughing water which spilled down the side of the blue hills to vanish into the sandy plain. She counted the small band of Miriens, swords raised to the light, side by side, waiting. There were seven and she felt afraid, not for herself but for the courageous little people who stood valiantly before her.
The first winged creature swung low, hooked jaw raining white foam, yellow fangs glimmering beneath wild red eyes, arched wings stiff above a horned back. The first Mirien cried out and the winged beast dropped upon him, down in a cloud of black and flailing wings, down onto the little man with his sword of steel. The glint of metal, a cry of pain and the beast drew up, its head severed from its body, its head with wild red eyes, lying on the sand, jaws snapping open, then closing for the last time.
The first Mirien staggered back, his hand bleeding and his stalwart blade broken.
"Jeesuz he's good!" cried Thomas. "Did you see that little guy? Let me have his sword. The next one is mine."
Thomas leaped forward as the second winged beast descended. He pulled the broken blade from the bleeding hand of the first Mirien and raised it against the neck of the beast, running it through, twisting it, pulling it back into a stream of blood. The great beast fell screaming to the ground.
"Good going, Tom!" shouted Gloria, jumping with glee.
The winged creatures rose and hovered for some time, bleating shrill screams of anger. The Miriens stood to either side of Thomas, swords raised against the horde, like a delicate fence running to either side of a giant post. Clayton ran to the end of the line, without a weapon but with his fists raised in defiance. The one in white stood on the right hand of Thomas, a red streak running jagged across the back of his robe.
"Charlie! You're hurt!" shouted Gloria. "Watch out! Here they come again!"
Three beasts descended, red mouths open, yellow teeth gnashing, wings curved. Thomas reached for the first, drawing the broken sword across its neck and the beast collapsed, covering Thomas. Two Miriens swung an arc of steel and a second beast fell, head severed. The third beast fell upon the one in white, his blade flashed and the blood of the beast leaped as a fountain, the bone of a wing severed. The one in white rose, held in the black claws of the beast with wings beating wildly. It rose then fell, one wing shattered, then rose again. Clayton leaped and grasped the broken wing and the brute fell to the ground. Thomas climbed from beneath a dead creature, saw the one in white in the grasp of the third beast, cried out in a rage, leapt upon its back and cut off its head.
The black horde rose and swung away, screaming toward the distant mountains, leaving four of their dead on the sandy plain below.
Gloria stared wide-eyed at Thomas Barclay. He was growling, his huge frame towering in defiance, the thin line of Miriens by his side. Then Thomas turned and knelt beside the wounded body of the one in white.
"Chucky, say something. Where did the bastards get you? Can you talk to me?"
The wounded Mirien opened his eyes and smiled at the giant who stood over him with tears on his cheek.
"My friend, this day you have honored yourself against the Beasts of Filope and the ... the people of Dragomir shall sing your praises in song that will last ... last a thousand years until the day of reckoning when ... when -"
"Listen Chuck, just don't say nothing. Okay? Just relax. You're gonna be all right, I guarantee."
*****
The small band gathered about the glowing fire, silent but for the warm wind which hummed across the sandy plain and ran up the narrow valley where lay the Stream of Life. The evening grew dark and the Mountains of Mune rose blackly in the distance against the night sky.
Clayton Chaplain said to Gloria: "I can't believe the quiet in this world. I haven't heard a bird sing or a cricket chirp. Silence, deathly silence."
"Charlie told me that, one time, long ago, there was laughter everywhere, that's the way he put it, laughter everywhere. In the forest and on the plains, filled with animals that laughed and played. And there's a legend: when the stars come again to Sharlain, the world begins anew." She paused and they looked up at the starless sky. Gloria continued: "Now only that stream, it still laughs, the Stream of Life."
"Why the Stream of Life?"
"I don't know. Maybe, maybe it, well, I just don't know."
The one in white raised his hand and the Miriens which sat about the fire hushed and looked at their leader, faces filled with pain and sorrow.
"When the King of Light ruled the world and all the animals laughed and the Prince of Darkness lay in the Black Abyss, then it was said that life sprang eternal to those that drank ... of its waters -"
The one in white lay back, breathing heavily and Thomas placed upon his knee the head of the Mirien, and the Mirien closed his eyes, then continued.
"- but the Evil One returned and the night sky darkened, each star winking its last, each bird silenced, every animal quiet ..."
"Shhh," Tom whispered, and the one in white breathed deeply then fell fast asleep. "Good," and Tom wiped a tear from his cheek.
Clayton spoke quietly. "The Door of Monash, there's something funny there. What did the old man say, old man Woller? Something about this Door being opened to him by the King of Light. Did we pass through the Door when we rubbed the amulet and said those words? Charles said the only door was in the Abyss. Why didn't we pass into the Dark Abyss? If the King of Light opened the Door for old man Woller then … then that old guy must have been somebody special. And what about the golden tower we saw in the mountain with the lobster? It had those words. Was it a door? Another door?"
"Yeah," said Thomas. "I read the words on that tower and wound up outside the mountain. It must be some kind of door."
"Another thing," said Clayton. "I don't know whether you've noticed, but that Stream of Life runs down this side of the blue hills and disappears into the sand of this desert. But it also ran
down the other side of the blue hills. Now that's curious, don't you think? Does the Stream originate within these hills? And another thing: the days and nights seem short, and of random length. And another thing -"
"Too many questions," said Gloria. "We'll have our answers one of these days. In the meantime we'd better get some sleep. Tomorrow we head across the desert to the Mountains of the Moon."
*****
On the morn they began, and for two days they traveled across the plain, sleeping on the warm sand at night, with no fire that would guide the Beasts of Filope. Before them, rising from the desert, lay the Mountains of Mune. Thomas carried the one in white on his shoulder, resting only to drink and to eat. On the evening of the second day the Mirien spoke to them:
"Tomorrow we will see again the Stream of Life which comes from out the ground and vanishes again until the blue hills behind us, and we will follow these waters until the foot of the mountain where we will enter a forest where dwell the Ardens of Wilo-ard and they are corrupted, being in league with the Dark Lord, and they wield the weapons ... which only they can fashion." The Mirien rested, breathing heavily, then continued. "We may not engage in battle with the Ardens, not in their land of Wilo-ard, else we shall die."
They waited for the Mirien to continue but he did not and Gloria asked the question which was on the minds of all.
"Then what do we do?"
The Mirien whispered: "We ask guidance from the Ghost of Chalma."
Clayton was about to speak, but waited. The one in white breathed deeply and began to sing and the other Miriens joined him in song:
We sing to wisdom, we sing to right.
We ask for guidance this day, this night.
Come to us O Ghost of Chalma.
Bring the knowledge, the truth, the light.
Thomas looked with open mouth at the Miriens, each on a knee with head bared and bowed, right hand placed firmly over the left shoulder. He waited. They all waited. Then came a glow in the dark sky and the glow descended and illuminated the small band, and the Miriens remained with heads bowed until the light shimmered and coalesced into the shape of a woman with golden hair which fell to her waist.