As they walked, Futhark kept stopping and looking around, head cocked as if he were listening for something. Occasionally, he would stretch out his arms, his hands held palms out, fingertips splayed and extended, as if he were feeling the air. And then, abruptly, as they started on a slight downward slope entering the rocky pass, the halfling stopped and made a pass with his hands, as if clearing cobwebs from before him, and a gray, swirling mist appeared on the trail just ahead.
It was as if a fog had suddenly risen, but in only one small area, an arched space in front of them no larger than a portal. And it was a portal … a doorway into another dimensions bridge to the world between the worlds.
Aedan recalled how his stomach had suddenly tensed and a sharp pressure had started in his chest.
His mouth had gone completely dry, and he found it difficult to swallow.
His breath began to come in short, sharp gasps, and cold sweat trickled down his spine. His curiosity had been fully satisfied.
He had seen a halfling make a dimension portal. He did not quite understand how he did it, but that was something he could pursue another time. He had seen the door to the world between the worlds opened.
However, he did not want to find out what was on the other side.
Anyone with half an ounce of sense would have known enough to feel at least some trepidation at passing through that swirling mist and into the unknown, especially since people had been known to pass into the Shadow World and never emerge again.
Anyone in his right mind would have thought twice about entering that misty portal that had suddenly
appeared like a low-flying cloud upon the trail. Anyone except Michael Roele. Michael was positively thrilled and could not wait to go through. It was then, seeing the eager expression on his young face as it lit up with enthusiasm, that Aedan became convinced the new and not-yet-crowned young emperor was not merely fearless; he was crazy.
With Futhark leading the way, they had gone through the swirling cloud into the Shadow World, emerging in a place that looked, in many ways, much like the world they had just left … except, at the same time, it was different.
They could recognize the trail they were on. The path ahead of them looked much the same as it had back in the world of daylight. The countryside was similar, as well, and so far as Aedan could tell, they were still in the foothills of the Stonecrown Mountains, heading into the pass that led to Markazor.
Only after that, things were not quite the same.
For one thing, the light was completely different.
Even though it had been a clear and sunny day when they passed through the portal, when they came through into the other side, everything was dark and gray and damp, as if on a foggy, heavily overcast day out in the coastal marshlands. Tendrils of mist rose up from the ground, over which hung a perpetual fog that came up almost to their knees.
Vision was limited to no more than a dozen yards or so, except for brief periods when the mists parted from a sudden gust of bone-chilling wind.
And it was cold. Numbingly cold. The kind of cold that seeped into the bones and made them ache. It was a mirror image of the daylight world, only this mirror was a dark one, reflecting only …
shadow.
At first glance, the surrounding countryside looked similar to the place they had just left, except that everything was gray and mist-shrouded, but on closer examination, the trees turned out to be twisted into macabre shapes and choked with hanging moss that trailed down from the branches and raised unpleasant shudders if it contacted the skin. The underbrush was different, too. It was more sparse and spiky, with thorns large enough to cut the flesh like daggers. The ground was mostly bare and rocky, save where a strange silvery-blue moss grew in widespread tufts, like a diseased carpet. And there were nervous scurryings in that tangled thorny underbrush, creatures stirring that Aedan didn’t really want to see. He found out about some of those creatures soon enough.
“Aedan, stop! Don’t move,” Sylvanna said, as they headed down the trail.
She had spoken calmly but forcefully, and something in her tone had made Aedan freeze at once.
“What is it?” he asked uneasily.
“Just don’t move,” she replied. “Not even a muscle. Don’t even twitch.
Stand very, very still.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her draw her dagger from its sheath on her belt. He frowned in confusion, then felt something moving across the back of his neck. He swallowed hard and clenched his teeth as he fought down the shiver that threatened to run through his entire body.
Something was crawling on him … something hairy.
Sylvanna stepped forward quickly, and her blade flashed at the back of his neck. He felt just the faintest scratch as the tip of the blade barely brushed his skin, then saw Sylvanna stomp her thick-soled moccasin down on something white and multilegged, A violent shudder went through him, running down his spine all the way into his feet.
“what was it?” he asked, uneasily.
“Albino spider,” she replied. “A small
