seemed not to amount to a single gram as he floated about in the gloom there. And that is just what it was. Impenetrable gloom. Only one spot of light shone, the portal through which he had been shoved. Beyond this, King Lelar and his advisers stood hunched together, peering in at him. Then, just as he was getting a hold on his fear, great gusts of wind clutched at him almost with the sensitivity of fingers, bending around him, molding to him, spinning him away in the gloom. The portal dimmed to a mere spot of light, a pinprick, fainter, fainter, fainter. The rope unraveled and unraveled, his only hold on the real world.
Kaliglia paused to catch his breath.
And?
And then came the smoke ghosts.
The harshest part of the storm was gone now, blasting between the towering peaks of the Twin Towers, its black trail still darkening the sky, the faint tint of the setting sun tracing gold behind it.
Smoke ghosts? Jake asked.
That's what Golgoth called them. They were creatures composed of smoke. They were bilious and unreal, yet they maintained some mockery of form. They were mists, yet he could feel their hands upon him, more solidly than the eerie hands of the winds, ice hands that drove needles of cold sleep through him, deep into him.
Jake shivered a chilly ache that was not altogether new. The only other times he had felt it were burned brilliantly into his memory. The first time had been when they had buried his mother. They had taken her to the cemetery in the oblong box and had left her there beneath the earth, left her alone. They had come back to the skeleton house, come back to the rooms like hollowed out ice cubes where her presence had held the fire that burned no longer. He had been taken up the long set of winding stairs to the bathroom. They had cajoled him into showering-his aunts had -and had shoe-horned him into his pajamas. But on the way to the bedroom, he had stepped on something cold. He had looked down, and he had seen one of his mother's hair pins still twined through with a strand of blond hair. A shiver ran through him then, flooded into a scream that lasted an hour until the doctor could get there and give him a sedative. That first time, that first cold ache was a knife plunge through his bone marrow, a thing he would always remember. The second time had been when he had stepped through the dimensions and found himself in this world-and had realized that the old world was behind him and he had exchanged realities. That time, he had just barely choked a scream. And what did they do with Golgoth? he asked Kaliglia.
The dragon rumbled. His voice cracked. He sniffed and began again. He felt the smoke ghosts touching him, humming ghostily moans as if they wanted to tell him things. He lost consciousness then, screaming, just as he felt the ropes being retracted. He remembers nothing else until the Sorceress Kell opened his mind and freed him of his horror.
They sat in silence for a moment.
Well? Kaliglia asked, wiping a tongue across his thick, black lips and bunking his enormous eyelids down over his blue and green eyes.
Well what?
Now do you believe Lelar is an evil kingdom?
Perhaps.
Then we won't be going there?
Oh, yes, but we will. Jake stood and stretched.
But with the smoke ghosts and-
I have to go there. It is there that the portal to my own time line exists. Without it, I must remain here forever. He walked to the beast's side, pulled himself up the great back, climbed into the natural horn saddle. Let's get up to that rock bridge and camp there tonight. Tomorrow morning we cross into Lelar.
Kaliglia turned his truck cab head around, looking over his shoulder, snorted with disgust. He lumbered to his feet and crashed off along the gorge in search of the natural bridge
Chapter Two: THE
Kaliglia paused to catch his breath.
And?
And then came the smoke ghosts.
The harshest part of the storm was gone now, blasting between the towering peaks of the Twin Towers, its black trail still darkening the sky, the faint tint of the setting sun tracing gold behind it.
Smoke ghosts? Jake asked.
That's what Golgoth called them. They were creatures composed of smoke. They were bilious and unreal, yet they maintained some mockery of form. They were mists, yet he could feel their hands upon him, more solidly than the eerie hands of the winds, ice hands that drove needles of cold sleep through him, deep into him.
Jake shivered a chilly ache that was not altogether new. The only other times he had felt it were burned brilliantly into his memory. The first time had been when they had buried his mother. They had taken her to the cemetery in the oblong box and had left her there beneath the earth, left her alone. They had come back to the skeleton house, come back to the rooms like hollowed out ice cubes where her presence had held the fire that burned no longer. He had been taken up the long set of winding stairs to the bathroom. They had cajoled him into showering-his aunts had -and had shoe-horned him into his pajamas. But on the way to the bedroom, he had stepped on something cold. He had looked down, and he had seen one of his mother's hair pins still twined through with a strand of blond hair. A shiver ran through him then, flooded into a scream that lasted an hour until the doctor could get there and give him a sedative. That first time, that first cold ache was a knife plunge through his bone marrow, a thing he would always remember. The second time had been when he had stepped through the dimensions and found himself in this world-and had realized that the old world was behind him and he had exchanged realities. That time, he had just barely choked a scream. And what did they do with Golgoth? he asked Kaliglia.
The dragon rumbled. His voice cracked. He sniffed and began again. He felt the smoke ghosts touching him, humming ghostily moans as if they wanted to tell him things. He lost consciousness then, screaming, just as he felt the ropes being retracted. He remembers nothing else until the Sorceress Kell opened his mind and freed him of his horror.
They sat in silence for a moment.
Well? Kaliglia asked, wiping a tongue across his thick, black lips and bunking his enormous eyelids down over his blue and green eyes.
Well what?
Now do you believe Lelar is an evil kingdom?
Perhaps.
Then we won't be going there?
Oh, yes, but we will. Jake stood and stretched.
But with the smoke ghosts and-
I have to go there. It is there that the portal to my own time line exists. Without it, I must remain here forever. He walked to the beast's side, pulled himself up the great back, climbed into the natural horn saddle. Let's get up to that rock bridge and camp there tonight. Tomorrow morning we cross into Lelar.
Kaliglia turned his truck cab head around, looking over his shoulder, snorted with disgust. He lumbered to his feet and crashed off along the gorge in search of the natural bridge
Chapter Two: THE
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