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You must go alone. When you have set the traps and wards, then follow the path out.
Traps? Wards? How am I supposed to do that?
You will understand when you are there. We cannot follow you in this part of the journey, but we will be waiting.
I took the box from him, cautiously so I didn’t accidentally open it, and then I knelt and peeked into the portal. Just as I’d figured, there was a vortex. It was spinning like a funnel cloud, only I was looking in from the top. The colors here—unlike those of the portal I’d passed through on my journey for Lainule—were blue and pink and frozen purple and white so bright it shone almost silver.
I had to go through it. And I had to take the box with me and not lose hold of it. I thought for a moment, then hiked my robe up to just above my knees. I laid the box in the material, then folded it over and knotted it tightly, creating a pocket. Then, holding tight to the knot, I steeled my courage and leaped into the maelstrom.
Sudden chaos…then, a deluge of wind and hail racing past…I’m in the center of the tornado and the whirl of colors threatens to blind. A dizzying array, a magnificent specter of winter to come, of winter past, as I spin, caught in the vacuum sucking me down…
A waft of air…I’ve left my stomach behind in the rush of the fall, but now I whirl lazily, like leaves caught in autumn’s grasp, but this is not autumn and the boreal wind is biting even in its softer moments.
Buoying up…caught on the currents, riding them down as the shadows flicker past, a cacophony of color blinds me as a phantasmagoria of whispers ride the slipstream, echoing in my head like shouts from a distant camp.
One last gasp…and the colors vanish as I hurtle through a layer of mist to land, crouching, on the floor of a long, narrow tunnel.
Slowly, I unfolded myself, standing as I tested whether I’d broken anything, but I was unharmed. I stood, barefoot, on the floor of the tunnel, looking for some sort of illumination besides the light coming from the flashing vortex above me.
Faint twinkles of light sparkled from within the smooth walls. They were ice. At least, I thought they were, but when I actually went over to touch them, I discovered they were glass—clear tiles with swirls of color dappling them. The colors of winter. The colors of my realm. Unlike Lainule’s tunnel, the illumination was very faint from within them, but I was beginning to understand. The light must have faded when Tabera had been killed. Once my heartstone was in place, it would return to this shadowy realm, as would life.
I followed the corridor. There was nothing else here that was living—that much was apparent. I hurried, wanting to be done with this, wanting contact with my friends again. It felt like I had been alone for a very long time, and even Lainule’s presence hadn’t done anything to dissuade that feeling.
There were passages off the main one, but I kept straight—something inside told me that I’d know when it was time to veer off, and true to my instinct, I finally came to a T in the path. I looked to the left, then the right. A spark of light caught my attention. As I stared at it, I knew that was the correct direction.
As I turned to the right, my feet urged me to go faster and I found myself running. It was as if there were a magnet on the other end, a force I couldn’t ignore. I raced down the hallway and suddenly skidded into a chamber filled with ice and snow and giant crystals—this time they really were crystals. Snow serpents coiled around the clear spires, eyeing me with their eyes, as black as the vampires’.
I paused. There was something I needed to do here. Something I needed to say. As I waited, striving to find some kernel of understanding, one of the serpents uncoiled itself and slithered over to me.
“You would set a guardian here, young Queen?”
I paused, looking around. The path to Lainule’s heartstone had been fraught with dangers and guardians. “Yes, but I’m not sure how.”
“Ask, and it shall be done.”
I gazed at the serpent and it flicked its tongue in and out, and then it rose, coiling up till it could look me in the eye. For a moment I feared it might strike me, and those great teeth would easily rip holes in my face, but then it tilted its head to the side and I reached out, not thinking, and lightly stroked its head.
“You are here to watch over my heartstone, aren’t you?”
“I am, if you would have me.”
“Please, guard the path, then. Do what you need to in order to keep my enemies from harming me.”
And it was just that easy. A sense of watchfulness filled the air, and every other serpent in the chamber rose to attention. I turned back to the guardian snake.
“What’s your name?”
“Dark Fang. By this you shall know me. I stand for you, Cicely Waters. I shall stand for your queenship.” And then he moved out of my way, slithering to the side, and I passed on.
Once beyond the crystal chamber, I entered a long hallway. There I found a brigade of skeletons, unmoving, carrying axes. I gazed at them carefully until I found the one that looked like the leader. All too aware that their blades looked deathly sharp, I approached him and looked him over. A ring lay at his feet. I picked it up and slid it on my finger. Immediately, the warrior snapped to full attention, as did his company.
“Guard these halls for me. Let none enter who seeks to harm me.” It sounded as good as anything and was the only thing I could think of.
The skeleton bent down to one knee, his bones creaking as he did so. He bowed his head. “As you will.” The wind whistled through his teeth, rattling like a stiff breeze through quaking aspen.
As I passed, they closed ranks behind me, guarding the way.
I continued on, curious to see what the third guardian would be. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, I had a premonition as to what might be waiting, and I prayed I was wrong. Myst used them, and they were deadly and cunning and magical, but I really, really didn’t like them. But as I entered the next chamber, I saw that my intuition had been right.
