by John Sharp
Chapter 21 – Stairway To Heaven
We are in a large stable with a few melgui sleeping in pens around us. They snore so loudly that my opening of the door is most definitely unheard. Seeing the beasts I can’t help but think of Whisper and what he would say. Maybe something like, ‘Ten piece chicken meal.’ I miss him and Sarah so much. The smell of straw and animal is strong in the air, along with prodigious piles of dung in each pen. Stepping forward gingerly, I go to the thick stable door. Opening the door slowly I see a large courtyard with the tower of Babel in the center; a dark blotch in a city paved with gold. The area lightens with the dawning twin suns reflecting brightly off the road. We are running out of time. My footsteps muffled by the moccasins, I inch into the courtyard.
“Run, idiot,” my shadow snaps from nearby. “It’s clear right now but that might not last.” So I do. With a quick sprint that leaves an itch in my back as I expect a spear to impale me, we safely reach the tower wall. Craning my neck up I can see no end to it. Cautiously hugging the edge, I stumble onto the double doors of the tower. They are unimaginably thick with a rich, deep black color that is typical of shadow wood, with sigils glowing fiercely on its surface.
“How do we open it?” I ask. “Is this the seal?”
“No,” Sarrow says, frowning at the door. “This was constructed by the Kiraten. I do not know how to open it.”
“Fortunately, I do,” says a voice from the courtyard. Nearly jumping out of my skin I turn, seeing Morith approach. “I knew you would come.”
“Who are you?” My shadow says dangerously.
“He’s a friend,” I say. “He’s the one who engineered our escape.”
“Oh,” my shadow says. “I suppose I shouldn’t kill him then.”
“That would be most appreciated,” Morith replies. He is dressed in the same robe he had on yesterday, with fine gold jewelry around his neck. Facing Sarrow he bows deeply. “My heart gladdens now that you are free, Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth. The long injustice against you has finally been corrected.”
Sarrow bows in return. “We would not be here if not for you, Morith of Primehouse Ageroth. You were ever my staunchest ally.” Then, acting like the child she so resembles, she rushes forward, embracing the old man. “Thank you so much, uncle.”
Uncle! Unsure what to do I give a short bow. “Thanks for your help,” I say. It feels woefully inadequate.
“It is I who should be thanking you, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth for freeing my precious Sarrowind.” Releasing Sarrow he looks at the sky. “We have no time to waste. Heed my words, for I shall speak only once. Then I must depart.”
Reaching into his robes he withdraws a plate-size flat sigil stone with a complex series of symbols on its surface. “Here is the door key,” Morith says, pressing it into Sarrow’s hands. “Long have I prepared for this day, yet the two of you must see it to fruition. At the base of the tower you will see a sunken key in the floor. No doubt you have deduced that Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth with his unique lineage, can open the way.”
“How?” I ask.
“Pull the key out. You are the only one besides the dragons or a gathering of the Five that can do this,” Morith says. “Ascend the tower to the world of Pandedonium.”
“Shalarom’s world? But why, uncle?” Sarrow says, apprehension darkening her features.
“I know that world frightens you, child. There is no choice if you wish to live. The protection the Five gave the tower has long since expired. Unspeakable horrors that traverse the null space between the worlds can now reach the stairs of the tower. You will shine like beacons in the emptiness. Linger too long on the path and they will find you. Pandedonium is the closest world to ours. You can’t reach the others and survive. I have concluded, after long research, that the Drow can aid you in returning to Fomoria.”
“How can the dark elves help us? Will they help us?” I say. Sarrow looks like she wants to spit.
“Do not trust all you hear,” Morith says. “Many untruths are present in all worlds. I believe the Drow can free you of the Razoha.”
“Truly?” Sarrow exclaims, her eyes wide.
“I believe so,” Morith confirms. “After much investigation I have discovered that the traitor Solarkar with the aid of an unknown follower, was shifted to Pandedonium. There he sought the forbidden pool.”
Sarrow gasps, “Surely, he did not.”
“My sources are not precise on the details but all indicates so,” Morith says, nodding grimly.
“Would Shalarom even allow such?” Sarrow says, fear making her look even more childlike.
“It was probably the corruptor’s plan,” Morith says.
“You do not suggest…” Sarrow begins.
“No. You have resources that Solarkar did not. Speak with the Drow who reside in the tower at their world. Long they have awaited your father’s return. They will see the opening of the tower as a sign. They have ways to help you,” Morith says.
“They won’t kill us or take us hostage?” I ask.
“They are loyal to your father,” Morith says. Sarrow gives a disgusted sound. “I know that this plan is distasteful to you, my precious Sarrowind, but long have I searched all five worlds for a way to truly free you. This is the only way.”
With tears in her eyes she embraces the old man once more, “I understand, uncle.”
He gives her a quick squeeze before stepping away. “No time,” Morith says. “Go now. I will delay the search for as long as I am able.” Turning back to me he adds. “Take the key with you. Such a powerful artifact would be safe in your hands.” With a flutter of robes he is off, striding quickly out of sight.
I watch him go, confused on what to do, but Sarrow has no such troubles. Leaping into action she immediately goes to the door, pressing the sigil key into a matching indentation on the door. A series of sigils flare brightly, flashing in harmony like a coordinated light show. With a series of loud clicks that I am positive echo for miles around, the doors open.
The chamber before us is stale and coated with a century’s worth of dust. It is a large, open space with a slightly sunken depression in the center that glows with an inner light. A spiraling wide staircase starts on the far wall, circling the tower’s perimeter that abruptly ends after the third floor. My heart sinks at the sight. Whatever this tower truly is it doesn’t go anywhere. I fall to my knees, defeated. It has all been for nothing.
“Brother! Come, what are you doing?” Sarrow exclaims, already at the center of the chamber examining the floor.
I point to the missing stairs. “It’s gone. The stairs just end.”
Looking at the missing stairs she frowns but presses on. “Unlock the way. Morith wouldn’t have suggested this if all was lost.”Getting to my feet, I walk on weak limbs to Sarrow who studies something set into the circular depression. This must be the key Morith was referring to, for all the good it would do us. A strange pommel with a red gem on top is sunken into the floor, surrounded by strangely glowing sigils significantly more complex than anything I’ve seen before. Reaching out she grips the handle only to have the jewel flare brightly. Giving a startled yelp she releases it, her hand smoking slightly. Grimacing, she looks right at me.
“Try it, brother,” Sarrow says.
Kneeling down, I cautiously grip the handle, ready to pull back if anything goes wrong. The moment I touch it everything changes. Despite the Razoha in me I feel the shifting potential of the key. I can’t shift but I can once again see the worlds open before me. Not just a few worlds, but all worlds. I can see all the way home. To Fomoria… Earth. More importantly I see stairs that do not end but spiral endlessly upwards beyond my sight. Yet even as the stairs spiral up I can also see that the way is blocked by forces I can’t understand. But I don’t need to understand it, just undo it.
“What is it, brother?” Sarrow asks, her face hopeful. I
have to refocus my sight on this world, something I have gotten out of the habit of since the Razoha infested me.
“I can see the stairs now. They go so far up. It’s like they really do reach heaven,” I say.
“Well, pull the damn thing out already,” my shadow says, leaning against the wall.
“Yes brother, free us,” Sarrow says. Squatting before the item I pull up will all my strength, feeling the grip warm beneath my hand. Lights flicker all around as the ground trembles and the worlds themselves realign. Sliding an inch out with an audible scraping, I don’t bother looking, I just keep pulling. Suddenly it is free and I am tumbling backwards holding not a key, but a sword.
In my time in Inti and Elysium I have seen many weapons, some more magnificent than others, yet all pale before this weapon. The hilt is rather plain besides the jeweled pommel, it is wrapped in worn leather with a claw-like hilt guard. The blade itself was undeniably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It is truly the work of the Five themselves. Slivery bright, it shimmers in the air, actually illuminating the area around me with a gently glowing blue line starting at the hilt and running along the blades’ edge all the way around back down to the hilt on the other side. The line appears to be flowing, as if it were a condensed artic blue river. Awestruck, we just sit there, including my shadow, looking at the wondrous blade.
“By the Five…” Sarrow says in amazement. Shaking herself, she looks up and gasps. Following her gaze I see why. The barrier is gone. The stairs are now there for all to see. “We must hurry. Let us flee to freedom or death, brother!” With that she starts up the stairs, going as fast as she can.
“I like her,” my shadow says to me. “Much more sensible than you are.”
Not disagreeing I follow, racing up the stairs with the strange sword that is also a key in my hand. Other than the prospect of burning calves and stubbed toes I don’t see any real danger. This is going to be easy! Of course, that’s when it all goes wrong.
After the third floor the tower itself vanishes. I am so startled by this I almost fall. The tower, the bottom floor, everything is gone, replaced by an empty void darker than the darkest night imaginable. Only the stairs exist with me and Sarrow atop them. Nothing else is here at all. Looking up, I saw the stairs still spiraling in long stretches all around us reaching upward and suspended by nothing. Sarrow is still visible just a short distance ahead of me. I can clearly see her frozen, staring slack-jawed into the void. There is no source of light for us to see, yet we can… there’s just nothing here too see. And it is cold. I notice that immediately. Not just the frigid air of winter I have endured all my life, this cold is the absence of anything. It is the emptiness we all feel when we are at our lowest.
“Be not distracted!” Sarrow yells, her voice reverberating all around us. “Let us make haste.” With that she is off again, going as fast as she could. Racing after her I have a hard time not looking off into the void, imagining what would happen if I fell. Is there even a bottom for me to hit? Would I fall endlessly or be eaten by one of these unspeakables that has Sarrow so terrified.
Several more floors go by with no change and I am considering asking for a break or at least a slower pace when the sound begins. A high pitch whine like a dentist drill etching itself onto my eardrums. Something is coming. I can feel it. Something so big, so wrong, that it chills my core without me ever seeing it. Spurred on by fear I come alongside Sarrow. She looks haggard. Sweat pours down her blue skin, soaking her robes despite the cold air.
“What is it?” I yell between panting gasps for air.
“I know not!” She yells back but I can barely hear her as the sound continues to intensify. It’s all around us now, shaking the very stairs. Then the arms appear; rising from below there’s a field of limbs all around us growing steadily closer with each passing second. As numerous as a full head of hair and as deformed as only tenth generation inbreeding could produce, they make grabbing motions toward us with twisted fingers.
“RUN!” Sarrow yells.
Good advice. I run on, spurred to Olympic speed by the unspeakable horror beneath. I am barely aware of how my lungs burn and my legs ache, all I can think of are dirty, stubby hands pulling on me.
“Move it, fools!” My shadow yells. “You’re nearly there!”
Nearly where? It doesn’t matter. Nothing does except not being caught by those hands. Fingers grope at the stairs with blackened nails, tainted by the emptiness they dwells in. Stepping on fingers and hands I nearly stumble as they paw at my feet. The sound is so intense now that I am running full tilt, hands over my ears mirroring Sarrow just a step ahead of me. Clammy hands are all around us now as piercing sounds threaten to consume our minds. It’s nearly overwhelming, and then it’s suddenly all gone. So startled am I by the change that I trip over, taking Sarrow down with me. Landing hard, I lay there atop Sarrow, both of us breathing hard. Rolling over I half expect my sight to be filled with greedy, dirty hands. Instead I see a faint light all around us and a familiar looking tower wall. We made it.
“Are we,” I gasp, “there yet?”
“I believe so,” Sarrow says, panting heavily.
“So that was the unspeakable,” I say, not getting up.
“It was an unspeakable,” Sarrow corrects. “The legends tell of many that dwell in the void. Morith was correct, we cannot hope to reach Fomoria by the tower alone.”
“As much as you two lazy asses would like to rest I think we have more immediate issues to contend with,” my shadow says.
Sure enough one floor above us several Drow are staring down, patiently waiting. Getting to my feet I try to ignore the fatigue. I hope this goes better than my meeting with the Kiraten. Sarrow is still resting on the steps, gasping for air. Reaching down I grab her arm, helping her to her feet. Together we go to face the Drow with my shadow racing ahead.
My shadow is among the shadows of the Drow before we get there, dancing around in some type of celebration. I watch in fascination as the figures all move independently of their owners. On unsteady feet I reach the main floor of the tower, Sarrow by my side, facing the Drow. They are very similar to the fictional dark elves I am familiar with. With black skin and pure white hair they have long, pointy ears and large, bright purple eyes the same shade as Sarrow’s. They have on white robes that look to be made of flower petals, yet do not fall apart. Armed with simple staves of black iron the dozen or so watch calmly as we take our time looking each other over. I am trying to think of something to say when Sarrow speaks up.
“I am Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth and this is my brother, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth. We are children of Dalvine of Primehouse Ageroth.”
“We know you, children of the great one,” the lead Drow speaks, bowing low. His voice is as gentle as a swaddling blanket. “We see his power and the gift of Shalarom in you both. Long have we awaited your arrival. It is a sign that the great one’s glorious return is at hand. I am Hiltith the Watcher, at your service.”
Sarrow stiffens at his words. I’m not surprised. “Abomination” in one world and “Great One” in another, it all depends on your point of view.
“Thank you for your kind welcome,” I say. Then, thinking of my world I can’t wait any longer, I have to know now. “I was told that you might have knowledge of Solarkar and how he freed himself of the Razoha.”
“Yes, we expected that is what you would seek. Solarkar made a deal with Miasma of the Dead who, using its corruption removed the Razoha from within him,” Hiltith says.
“The forbidden pool…” Sarrow says, her eyes wide. My mind flashes back to the mural of the five worlds with that ominous pool in Pandemonium . “So he truly did it. I did not wish to believe Morith.” Shaking her head she adds. “How one could fall so low?”
“Yes,” Hiltith agrees. “Such is truly a desperate act from one with nothing to lose except hi
s soul, which is now at risk. You however, have no need for such perils for the means for your freedom are in this very chamber.”
“Really? Where? How?” I say.
“The gift of Shalarom, of course,” Hiltith says. “Focusing all your power into your gift it may enter you and kill the infestation inside you. Command your shadow to do this and you shall be free.”
“Command me?” My shadow says separating from the others. “Don’t be absurd. He can no more command me than you can. But your suggestion is good. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?” Turning his dark silhouette to me he gives an evil grin and bursts into song.
“Past the lips and
Through the gums.
Look out stomach,
Here I come!”
With that he charges my face. “Wait a second…” I say, raising my hands in protest. Then, before I can speak anymore, an inky blackness fills my mouth. At least there’s no taste. I struggle to breathe, gagging on my own shadow. My eyes water as my neck budges from swallowing the surprisingly substantial darkness. Dropping the key sword, I clutch my belly as it swells painfully.
“Brother! Are you all right?” Sarrow says, kneeling next to me. I can’t answer. It is literally the world’s worst gas attack.
“Hello, beautiful!” Comes the call from my stomach. A moment of intense pain is followed by nausea and I feel the worlds blossom before me. Bending over, I vomit up a pool of ink along with the chunks of a now thoroughly dead Razoha. I am glad I can’t make out any details of what was previously living inside me. Ignorance is bliss. Coughing, I clutch Sarrow for support.
“Now you turn, girly,” my shadow says wickedly.
“Wait, I can find another…” Sarrow begins too late. Jumping inside her, it’s now me supporting her as my shadow goes to work.
“Excuse me,” my shadow says followed by an indistinct reply. “You couldn’t kill this little thing?” A few tsk sounds follow. “I can’t have a shadow related to me being so weak. We will have to work on this. Now observe.” Sarrow lets out a painful cry, shuddering violently. Bending over she vomits much as I had, expelling my shadow and another dead Razoha.
“Well, that’s all done. Shall we depart?” My shadow says, forming his dark silhouette and standing rather proudly before us.
“In a minute,” I say. Helping Sarrow to her feet we face Hiltith who stares in fascination at my shadow. “Thank you for all your help.”
“It was my pleasure,” Hiltith says, still looking at my shadow. “What has happened to your gift of Shalarom?”
“Huh?” I say.
“Its behavior is most unusual. It appears to obey its own desires above your own,” Hiltith says.
“No one commands me,” my shadow says.
“That’s definitely true,” I agree.
“This should not be,” Hiltith says. “It is a part of you and should be subject to your will. Your gift of Shalarom might be stronger than the Miasma of the dead and the dragon’s fire.”
Sarrow gasps, her eyes wide. “How can that be? What is his shadow?”
“All shadows are a manifestation of the Id. The base desires of life and the subconscious. This one is that but something more. The great one too had a free shadow like all Drow, but his was weaker than ours and could not range far.” Turning to Sarrow he adds. “I can sense your gift inside you is it unable to leave?”
“It can for very brief periods,” Sarrow says, still looking at my shadow who grins widely at all the attention.
“The Kiraten’s Id is comparably small to a Drow’s. You are mostly Kiraten so your shadow is weaker as a result, but why is your brother different?” Hiltith says.
“We are only half brother and sister,” I say, thinking for our differences that should have been apparent. “My mother was human, not Kiraten.”
“That could be it,” Hiltith says. “The wisdom of Palentor’s creations is well known. It is not surprising that your shadow would be incomparably stronger. Your human side has made your gift of Shalarom powerful beyond anything seen before.”
“As with your shifting ability,” Sarrow adds.
I redden, embarrassed. Who would have thought it? It wasn’t all these amazing new beings like the Drow and Kiraten that give me such wide abilities. It’s my human part that makes me special.
“Is that why my shadow can kill?” I ask. It’s like someone dropped a dead baby in front of us, asking that we all take a bite. The Drow draw back, utterly repulsed.
“Your shadow can kill?” Hiltith asks as the others around us hiss. Where there had been friendship and warmth in their eyes, now fear and horror hold sway.
“Uh, yeah…” I say unsure of myself. “He only did a few times when it was absolutely necessary.” I add hoping that helps.
“Or if I’m bored,” my shadow adds, grinning even more widely as the other shadows draw away from him.
“No, it can’t be. You must come with us. Such a thing shouldn’t be, even if you are a child of the great one. He would understand the need.” Hiltith says, looking grim but determined.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I declare hotly. “Solarkar is trying to bring Melephos to my world. Thank you for your help but I must go.”
“You shall not!” Hiltith says desperately. “You can’t be allowed to go free. I assure you no harm will come to you but we must investigate this immediately. You don’t comprehend the significance of this event.
“Is it really important?” I say. “Each of our shadows are different, mine’s just more potent than most.”
“There is more to your shadow that a mere manifestation of your Id. Only once has a Drow shadow killed before. I am concerned there are forces at work here beyond our understanding.”
“Shalarom is aware of Jerry’s shadow,” Sarrow says. “Other than being happy about the power of his corruption there was no concern.”
“The great Shalarom is of chaos itself. The fact that he was interested at all is a sign,” Hiltith says. “We will restrain your gift for a short time while we ascertain the truth.”
“Forget it, we have to leave now,” I say.
“The entire tower has powerful talismans that stop shifting. You have no choice but to accompany us,” Hiltith replies.
“The hell we do,” my shadow says, swelling up to gigantic proportions. “I’ve had enough of you inferior creatures telling me what I can and can’t do. No more!” My shadow changes. Stretching and growing my shadow becomes a monstrous nightmare with four long arms and a wide, gaping maw.
“It’s Shalarom reborn!” One of the Drow cries, bowing low. Others flee and a few brandish their black iron staves at my shadow. The shadows in the room obey the wishes of their owners. Some flee while others grovel, and a few actually attack my shadow. It’s like watching a film done in all black and white. Dark figures strike my large shadow, doing absolutely nothing to him. My shadow lets out a wicked laugh that sends everyone, including the other shadows, cringing. Reaching forth my shadow grabs four of the offending Drow shadows, one in each arm. Then one by one he eats them. Tossing them into his wide, dinosaur-like maw and actually chewing them. As he does, the owner of each shadow collapses dead on the floor. That is enough. The Drow all flee, taking their shadows with them. Once the tower is empty my shadow collapses back into his standard dark silhouette.
“Tasty,” my shadow says, his dark features rippling. “See, now we can leave.”
“I suppose, but I’d rather have tried to talk my way out of it,” I say sadly. I’m not doing a very good job at making friends in these other worlds.
“No matter, brother,” Sarrow says, keeping a wary eye on my shadow. “We are free. Let us leave this tower and go to Fomoria.” I nod, heading to the open door the Drow had fled from.
The landscape is chaotic but beautiful in a way. Shalarom apparently had dispelled the natural laws on t
his world. I see purple rivers flowing up hills rather than down, plants walking about and large sections of rock floating in mid-air.
“Brother, you must shift me as well so I will not incur any imbalance and will not need ever return to Inti,” Sarrow says. Grabbing her arm, I send my sight all the way to Fomoria… home.
“Let’s go home,” I say.
Moving us to a slightly different position I shift us just outside of Stonehenge. All that remains of the tower in my world. Now that the way is open a set of stairs is clearly visible leading into the earth, lit by the noon sun in the middle of the formation. That might cause problems later. Luckily, no one is in the immediate vicinity. That’s rather surprising all by itself. I thought this was a big tourist attraction. Now, with the stairs exposed, I suppose it will be an even bigger one. Come see other worlds and get eaten by unspeakables on your way down to hell! A fun family event.
“So this is Fomoria?” Sarrow asks, warming her face in the sun.
Looking at her, I am suddenly startled. She is slightly, but noticeably, different. She could almost pass for human now. Her skin is lighter with only a sight blue tinge. The green extra wavy hair of all Kiraten has lost that strange motion and looks like it could just be a really good dye job. She still has long, pointy ears and purple slit pupil eyes but we can hide that. Hell, why bother, it might start a trend.
I smile, “Welcome home, sis.”
Looking as her hands and changed skin she nods. “I am now of this world, brother. Let us go and stop Solarkar.”
“Yuck,” my shadow says, looking far less substantial then he had in Inti. “I will miss those worlds. I can do so much more there.”
“Palentor designed this world well, repulsing all those outside who don’t belong,” Sarrow says, nodding. “It is not surprising that the power of Shalarom is limited here.”
“You’re right. But right now let’s just find a ride into town,” I say, gesturing to a long road ahead of us. Its strange being back home. No longer do I have to worry about carnivorous hills or dragons swooping down upon us. The only thing I have to worry about is being mugged, which would be like a vacation. Hiding my new sword awkwardly under my black robes, Sarrow and I head into town.
I know something is wrong after the first mile. Roads are vacant and I see no signs of life at all. Finally, after two more miles an old pickup truck comes by and we manage to hitch a ride into town. Dropping us off at a tavern, I go to thank the man to find him already pulling away.
“The people of this world do not converse well, brother,” Sarrow notes.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask of no one.
Going to the tavern door Sarrow and I enter unchallenged as all the people are huddled before a large TV screen. Although I can’t see what is playing, looking at the nearest table tells me everything. Laying there is a newspaper with a black and white photo covering the entire front page. Laying it flat, I feel my mouth go dry. It depicts a monster of such gigantic size that it’s on level with the surrounding skyscrapers. Dozens of tentacles several times its body length are shown picking up cars and other, more human things and feeding them into a cavernous maw in the center of a bulbous body. Underneath the picture are the words, ‘THE END?’ Melephos is here. We are too late.