Does it matter? Just be sure the dog goes in along with you. And don’t be first through the door.
Don’t be first? Why not?
You’ll want to brace yourself, sweetmeat. It’s easier to do once you’ve seen one of these doors in action.
Wise council. Even if it came from the mouth of hell.
When I returned to the camp, I found the others assembled outside the door as the sun crept high enough to bathe the land in marigold rather than rose.
“You are late,” the Majester General pronounced, each syllable distinct.
“No time was given.” I frowned. No one else had their packs with them. The Poisoned Saint had a water skin slung across a shoulder and all the paladins I saw were armored and armed, but no one else was carrying a pack as I was. Were they so certain the way would be safe?
“We said first light,” the older paladin said, judgment in his eyes. “And yet here you are at second light.”
There’s a second light?
Yes, the others can be quite fussy about it. Have I not mentioned it?
I wonder what they call the last light you see before your eyes shut forever. Is there a name for that, my foolish treats? I’ve given people that light before. It’s my most common gift. Wait. There’s also madness. I correct myself. It is my second most common gift.
Maybe they call it last light, Sir Branson suggested.
A bit too obvious, I would think. I’d prefer a name with more panache.
I ignored their byplay and made the sign of the God.
“My apologies, Majester General.”
He grunted and turned to the others, his voice ringing like he was making an official announcement in the name of the church.
“We know this is the only door into the monastery. The High Saint confirms that he has explored every inch of the ground above, as does the Penitent Paladin. I, myself, confirmed their claims.”
He drew a parchment from his tunic and unfurled it with a flourish.
“I’ve mapped the ground above. There are crumbled arches, ruins, and pillars, but no doors except this door that seemingly leads nowhere, and yet it is our only path forward. All we who gather now bear the amulets of our aspects agreed upon. These declare that we are granted the right to travel within these premises. None other may follow or live under the aspects’ curse. We claim the right of passage now, each in equal part, each a child of the God. Please confirm this, brothers and sisters.”
Everyone made a show of drawing their amulet out and I held mine up, too. What fussy mummery. As if there were anyone else here to challenge our right to enter.
The Majester General inspected the amulets one at a time, and though I saw tics of annoyance in some faces, no one made to stop him. He was keeping notes, I saw. Making tiny ticks with a charcoal next to each name as if to confirm we each wore the symbol he’d already seen us wearing. Ridiculous. We all knew who we were and that we were the designates of our aspects. Did it really need to be confirmed?
When he was finished, he continued with his pageantry.
“I call upon you now, in the spirit of honesty and before the God, to swear that you are here in the name of your aspect and with appointed authority.”
He paused, waiting for us all to chant, “We so confirm.”
The Majester General smiled with the smug happiness of a man who has completed a slight and unnecessary task and now thinks he should be complimented for it.
“Shall we toss for the marching order to pass through the door?” He arranged himself beside the door, parchment and charcoal in hand. Clearly he’d be marking this, too.
Perhaps, when all this was done, he’d turn in his notes to his superiors like a squire learning to figure. I had a sudden mental image of him looking exactly the same, but half as tall, scurrying from master to master trying to show his work. It was hard not to snort.
You’re such an irreverent thing. Had you any doubt as to why you ended up dead by your own hands after having been possessed by a demon — that’s how I’ll kill you, if you’re confused — you could look back on thoughts like this, little snack.
Really? The demon thought humor was damnable? How very interesting.
I was about to respond when I felt a tug on my sleeve. The Seer was standing far too close, her pearly gaze just an inch from mine. I tried to flinch away but she seized my arm and drew her mouth close to my ear. The sound that came from it was like crackling leaves in the autumn. It was certainly not speech.
