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Face displaying the pain he’s feeling, he fails to answer other than a shake of his head.

Whack!

Brother Willim strikes the helm of the warrior priest he’s facing. Bringing his staff in for another strike, the warrior priest’s sword unexpectedly strikes the center of the staff and cleaves it in two. Now unable to adequately defend himself, Brother Willim is helpless to stop the next attack. “Asran!” he cries out as the warrior priest’s sword penetrates his stomach.

Suddenly, the cavern is filled with the angered screams of Little Brothers. They launch themselves at the warrior priest. Now in total disregard for their own safety, they swarm the warrior priest with a viciousness one wouldn’t expect from such shy creatures. The warrior priest’s sword moves rapidly as he strikes one after another, but the deluge of bodies is simply overpowering.

James rushes to his side and can see the green glow already surrounding him. “Brother Willim!” he says but the brother is too deep in healing concentration to hear him.

Then all of a sudden, there’s a subtle shift in the feel of the cavern. Turning his gaze to Ozgirath, he sees him radiating darkness as he faces the dome. “Oh no,” James says as he sees the top of the dome beginning to sink toward the floor.

The dark ritual has been completed. The gate is now ready.

Chapter Thirty Nine

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He was surprised when the knife he put in the back of the High Priest did little to hurt him. Then when Ozgirath turned and struck him, he was even more stunned by the sheer strength with which he was struck. There was very little time for him to dwell on this as he flew through the air. Then all of a sudden, he was elsewhere.

When he came to land, the first thing he felt was fear. More fear than he’s ever felt in his life. Barely able to move, he looks around and realizes he’s no longer in the cavern. A dark haze lays over the land, the ground cracked as if all the moisture was taken from it. The air tastes different and it’s difficult for him to take a breath.

His gaze continues to turn and he knows he’s not alone. There’s something here with him, something of immeasurable evil and power though his eyes cannot see it. Pain erupts in his head as a malignant presence voices strange words in his mind. Putting his hands to his ears, he tries to shut them out but can’t.

The dagger Jiron!

Another voice enters his mind and alleviates in part the pain the strange words give him. This voice gives reason instead of madness and curbs in part the fear he’s felt since passing through. A feeling of imminent danger comes over him as the malignant voice suddenly ceases.

Take the dagger!

Again the soothing voice comes to him and in his mind’s eye he pictures golden hair, a memory of long ago. Then his eyes see it. Not more than three feet away lays the dagger he knocked from Ozgirath’s hand.

Yes

Lurching forward on his hands and knees, he grabs the dagger by the hilt and a searing pain courses through his hand and up into his arm. The touch of the dagger is almost more than he can bear, but he holds onto it tightly.

Flee!

The fear rises within him, as does a feeling that his imminent death is nigh. Rising to his feet, he turns around and sees a dark red area that almost perfectly matches the appearance of the dome in the cavern he just left. Only this area is flat.

Evil washes over him as he moves toward the dark red area. Falling to his knees in panic, he cringes. Then he looks up toward the dark red area and against all logic, sees the shimmering image of a woman with golden hair. He blinks his eye twice but the image of the shimmering woman remains. Beckoning to him, the image gives him strength to once more rise to his feet.

Then as he takes a step forward, a wave of force passes him and strikes the shimmering woman. A shriek is heard as she disappears. With the indomitable will that has carried him through many times of crisis, he forces first his right leg to move forward toward the red area, then the left.

Around him, it almost