Chapter 26

26.
         And then they were somewhere else.
         The first thing Tristian heard was the delicate sound of water striking rock, slowly, one drop at a time. There was too much gloom around for him to see and he had to wait until his eyes adjusted. When they did there wasn't much to see, he got the contours of a rock wall, deepening shadows curved by depressions in stone, and the everpresent musty smell of old mold and stagnant water.
         "Are we . . . underground?" Johan asked, squinting as he tried to see what was around him. His voice, even though it was a whisper, still echoed hollowly around the walls. Tristian got the impression they were in a moderately large area.
         Michelle shivered, gathering her robes around her for warmth. Compared to where they had just come from, the chilled air of this apparent cavern was arctic. "Why are we here?" she asked, turning both to Tristian and the silent Sylvania. "Why did Auburon want us to come here? What happened back there?"
         "All dead," Sylvania whispered, and her eyes weren't completely focused. A small sound escaped her throat, as if it had to struggle to be heard and that was all she said. Taking a few steps with faltering grace, she said, "I can feel them . . . I could and I can't . . . feel them anymore." Haunted eyes, buffered by flickering vestiges of duty, struck all of them. "I don't know how much longer I can go on."
         Michelle turned pale at the utter desolation she heard in that voice. Moving over to her, Tristian said softly, "The Dark Lord was just feinting the entire time . . . they did something to the Magent and set the forest on fire and then . . . he killed everyone . . ." Tristian felt his fists clenching and unclenching. The memory made him feel so helpless. "Right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything. Anything at all. He threw me around like a toy."
         Everyone seemed shell shocked, all had been ready for battle ever since the Shadow first appeared in the castle throne room but none had been expecting anything even approaching the brutality of the Dark Riders. For the first time it seemed to hit all those involved here, that the Dark Riders didn't want to merely conquer, they wanted to massacre.
         "We saw the Magent," Johan said, his voice hushed, as if unwilling to disturb the alleged santcity of this quiet place. "He . . . he didn't look well. Not at all. He said something about . . . heat and energy but none of it made any sense?"
         "What did they do to him?" Michelle asked. For both of them, even Johan, it was a shock to see the Agent laid so low, having believed in the ultimate invincibility of the Magents, even after seeing Agent Two tortured by the Shadow. He had recovered from that, had been there physically. Now, there didn't even seem to be a body.
         Tristian didn't know how to explain it though. As far as they were concerned, the Magents were human, or at least solid. The Agents were energy beings, they didn't have a physical body, which was why the Dark Riders were able to manipulate them like that. But the Dark Lord couldn't have done it alone, Tristian realized grimly, he didn't have nearly that much power to warp th Agent like that. No, it meant that his master, the Shadow, had been nearby. And maybe still was around. Not the most comforting of thoughts.
         "I . . . don't know," Tristian finally admitted to his two friends, not sure what kind of explanation he could give them that would sound plausible. He didn't understand magic and so couldn't even cloak his answer in the magical slang of the place.
         The answer wasn't reassuring but since Johan and Michelle didn't even know either, at least they didn't feel alone. Relatively speaking.
         "This isn't good," Michelle said, rubbing her arms for warmth. "We were counting on the fairies for a lot of things and now they just . . . they're just not there . . ." that last part was said quietly, since Sylvania was wandering around the cavern slowly. By the sound of the dripping water, Tristian got the feeling that it wasn't a huge cavern, the ceiling wasn't that far over their heads. Enough to be totally lost in darkness but not much further beyond that.
         "Now what, then?" Johan asked. The man sounded exhausted, almost totally drained, both physically and emotionally. Tristian was glad that neither of them had been there to see the Dark Lord slaughter the fairies. Not their imaginations couldn't deliver gruesome reconstructions, but they were probably trying to avoid doing that. Tristian couldn't blame them, the scene kept replaying itself in the back of his head and it just kept reminding me of his failures, of what he couldn't do.
         Get back to the present. Focus. They were all floundering now, trying to come to grips with the sheer fact that entire race had been basically decimated right in front of them. It was too big, the mind couldn't get a handle on it and they whirled in a daze, unable to see the big picture because of the event that had been through in front of them.
         Tristian, no stranger to death, in whatever form, realized he needed to find a direction. Every second they stood still was another chance for the Dark Riders to kill them all. A name kept floating back to him. Auburon. The man had sent them here, but didn't tell them for what purpose. But someone did know.
         "Sylvania," he called out, turning to see that the fairy woman was almost swallowed by the darkness, her body wrapped in shadows. He moved toward her, his footsteps clattering aimlessly through echoes, no matter how softly he wished to move. Behind him, he could hear Johan and Michelle staying with him. This was not a place that one would want to be caught alone.
         The fairy was moving further into the darkness now but Tristian had almost caught up to her. "Sylvania," he said again, more insistent. She didn't appear to be listening. "Why did Auburon want us here?" Still no answer. He increased his pace as she took another step.
         And then stopped. Tristian almost ran right into her. The blackness was almost absolute now and he couldn't so much see her as see the shape of her. But she wasn't facing him, and he could barely even hear her breathing. He was about to speak again when she slowly raised her hand. It was glittering faintly.
         She spoke one word, something ancient and the lights suddenly came on.
         Tristian shielded his face from the initial flash, and then shook his head to clear sparkles out of his eyes. When he was able to see fully finally, he nearly felt his jaw drop. Michelle gasped behind him and her gasp was the sound of faint recognition.
         A roaring face, caught in mid-snarl greeted him. The face was angular and leonine, drab now but apparently carved out of rock and gold, the colors still evident under dirt and dust. That face was attached to the center of a set of double doors, reaching high up into the dusk at the ceiling. They were built right into the rock and appeared more solid than anything he had ever seen. Obscure symbols ran up and down the length of the doors, tettering vaguely on the edge of familiarity but just eluding the grasp of his mind. He couldn't see any hinges, though he imagined the doors had to be opened somewhat.
         There was a rustling of robes and then Michelle was at his side. Without going any closer then Tristian was, she peered at the doors, her face set in odd surprise. "I don't believe it," she breathed. Her hand, almost involuntarily reached out to run her fingers down the carvings on the doors but just before she touched it, she drew it sharply back, leaving it firmly at her side.
         "I take it you've read of this place before?" Tristian asked, hoping for at least an explanation from her. Johan had come up directly behind them but whatever this was, it was totally out of the range of his knowledge. Tristian doubted that the man could even take a guess at what this represented.
         "Only scraps," Michelle answered him. "Bare scraps and even then those scraps only refer to this place in passing." She turned around sharply, as if expecting to see something new now that she had gotten an idea of what they were facing. "Where are we really?" she asked and her question was directed at the still silent Sylvania. "Where is this place?"
         Sylvania stirred slightly, as if waking up from a dream. Gently, she reached out and touched the growling head in the center of the doors. "It's been so long," she murmured, eyes half closed. "Do you still remember me?"
         "One of your beauty passes this way but rarely, my lady," came the slow grinding voice and everyone started at the noise. Tristian glanced around quickly, looking for the source. It seemed to have come from everywhere but the echo made it too hard to pinpoint.
         "The door," Johan said and his eyes were wide. It was all he said. Tristian followed to where his eyes were pointing and felt his own heart skip. Goddamn.
         "It is most unexpected to see you here, my lady," came the cavernous, ancient voice. It seemed to be carved from the rock itself. The head on the door blinked and regarded Sylvania. The eyes cast glances over the three humans and Tristian could sense Johan shuddering at that implacably ageless gaze. "Might one inquire as to your purpose in coming here?"
         "I am . . . requesting entrance," Sylvania told the door, her voice hushed. Tristian could feel years weighing down on him.
         "Ah," the door said and Tristian was having a hard time believing that Sylvania and this door were having a conversation but having no other option, he just accepted it. Whatever got them out of here alive. "That might be difficult, lady. The vow that Auburon pledged still binds-"
         "Auburon is dead," Sylvania nearly hissed, the words seemingly torn out of her. She sharply took a breath right after she said that, as if the effort of speaking such a fact drained her life.
         "Dead?" Tristian had never thought of doors having feelings but this one seemed beyond surprised, shocked even. And perhaps a little bit saddened. "How can this be? He was one of the-"
         "I know what he was," Sylvania interupted again. "And there are still forces that can overcome even the most powerful of beings." Her eyes closed and she bit her lip. "Auburon met one of those and is no more. I alone survive and I come here at his request. His last request."
         "That . . . changes things, indeed, lady." What seemed to be an awkward pause. "And although it will not change things, I offer my sincere sympathies to my lady. He was a good soul."
         "Yes, he was," she whispered, eyes closed. "Thank you." Bowing her head briefly, she rested for a moment, not speaking. Tristian shared a glance with Michelle who only shrugged at him. Whatever was happening now was completely beyond her knowledge.
         Eventually Sylvania looked back at the door. "Are we still to be denied entrance?"
         "This is not a simple thing you ask, my lady. You know of the rules."
         Sylvania stared at the door and from his position Tristian could see that her eyes were glowing faintly. "Crossius," and Tristian was surprised to hear the door had a name, "in the last day I have lost my people and my husband. Both were my reasons for living, without them I have no longer a desire to even breathe. I linger on this plane simply to fulfill the last desires of Auburon, that we might come here and find what we need." She paused and when her voice came back it was tight and sharp, "The evil that seeks to consume us will not stop until it is driven back forever. It is older than you or I or anything in our limited perceptions." Her eyes were glowing brighter now and drops of magic ran along her arms, ending at her fingers. "This is not a time for rules. We will gain entrance, and if we have to annihilate each other in the process so be it. These three will pass through these doors."
         "Three . . . I didn't . . . oh," and the gaze passed over them again, lingering on each and every one. Michelle tensed as it stared at her and Tristian didn't feel much more comfortable. When the door spoke again, it was resigned in its tone. "I did not realize, my lady. The situation is indeed dire." After another pause, it finally intoned, "You may pass."
         "Thank you," Sylvania said quietly, smiling distantly.
         Tristian expected the doors to open right then, but the door spoke one more time. Looking right at Tristian, it said, "Scion of the Magents, it is a great honor to receive you here."
         Tristian was taken aback by this, and Michelle was giving him an odd look. He felt he had to say something but couldn't think of anything remarkably appropriate to say. "I, ah . . . well, thanks."
         "If you would, remember us when you come to the end of your path." The door sounded oddly reverant, but before Tristian could formulate a proper question to ask it, the face split in two down the center and the doors swung back, creaking only faintly, like they were brand new. Beyond them, Tristian could see a long corridor with only faint lights to guide the way. The distant rumblings and knockings of the underground could be heard but he couldn't discern the source of those sounds.
         All four of them stepped through, the humans a bit more gingerly than the fairy. As they walked through, Michelle leaned over and asked him, "What was that all about?"
         "I've no idea," was his simple and honest answer.
         "Well, we're in," Johan said, standing just inside the door. It creaked again and he stepped closer to them, not wanting it to close on him. "But why are we even here?"
         "Auburon said it was a place of refuge," Tristian noted. "But it must be farther on."
         "Even then, what good is it?" Johan asked, his face unreadable in the dim light. "What good is if we survive and the rest of the world gets killed . . . my village is up there somewhere Tristian, I don't want to be holed up down here while they all die."
         "Something I read once . . ." Michelle was muttering, moving around with a swirl of her robes and glancing over the rock surfaces. Small figures seemed chipped into the rock and she created a small light to help her see it better. "I know I've heard of this place before, but I can't . . ." she trailed off, furrowing her brow in concentration.
         "Tristian," said a faint voice close to him and he turned to find Sylvania falling toward him. Surprised he caught her and the effort nearly sent them both to the ground. Johan moved quickly to help him support her. She was dead weight but her body still felt lighter than it should, as if she had left some part of her behind in the forest.
         "Sylvania, what . . . Michelle get some light over here!" he called out to the mage and she hurried over, bringing the floating light along with her. It illuminated a pale and drawn face but one that held no fear or suffering.
         "What's going on?" Michelle asked either of the two men and Johan just shook his head.
         "Sylvania, what's wrong?" Tristian asked her and she blinked and seemed to come back from very far away.
         "Wrong . . . there's nothing . . . wrong," Sylvania answered him, her voice trailing and faint. In the dim, flickering light she looked ageless and ancient at the same time. "I'm joining my . . . people . . . my life . . . it all goes away . . ." she seemed to be rambling slightly and Tristian could feel her strength slipping away as she spoke. "Away . . . I've felt so . . . alone and now . . . I'm coming . . ." her eyes were closing now and Tristian wanted to do something to stop her fading away but he knew that even if he could, she wouldn't have wanted him to do such a thing. "I'm coming . . . did what I needed . . . to do and . . . now . . ." she gave a shudder and the body that Tristian held grew even lighter.
         ". . . Auburon . . ." he heard the faintest of whispers touching his ears and as he stared, as they all stared, Sylvania closed her eyes and jerked subtely in his hands. First her eyes glistened and then slowly light played out all over her body, racing back and forth, glittering, glimmering, transfiguring her into something indescribably beautiful. He was holding light, in his hands there was light and it washed over all of them. They could feel her then, everywhere and just in that last second when the entire room was light and they felt like they knew her intimately, the light faded and was gone.
         They all looked at each other without speaking. There didn't seem to be any words that were worthy. Michelle's light still existed but it was a dim, cold thing compared to what they had just witnessed. More than anything Tristian had seen so far in this strange world, he felt he had come the closest to pure magic in those last seconds.
         There was a gentle noise and behind them, slowly, ponderously the doors swung shut. They sealed with a muffled clang, regal in its finality.
         Tristian could see the eyes of his friends reflected in the light, could see that their thoughts ran along the same lines as his. Speech seemed to disrupt the moment, so Tristian merely looked down the corridor and back at his companions. Both knowing his meaning, they nodded. There was no fear in their eyes.
         And so, quietly as if footsteps would irreverseably ruin the silence, the trio started their way down the corridor.