the inner sanctum of the school.
'Wait,' Shurleen called. 'I just wanted to say good-bye.'
The demigod Mad Monkey reappeared at their side.
'They do not understand you,' the demigod explained. 'Common is not spoken here. It is only because I am part of the Celestial Bureaucracy that I have been able to communicate with you.'
'I should have known that,' Volo volunteered.
'You had other things on your mind,' the demigod offered. 'Though I am prohibited from transporting untried acolytes to my school, I am allowed to assist them, provided they prove themselves worthy, as indeed you have.'
Mad Monkey continued his proclamation.
'The child will be safe. He will be trained as a samurai, and his father's legacy will be secured. He will not be allowed to leave the sanctuary of this citadel until he is able to protect himself. You who are not disciples of Mad Monkey cannot receive the sanctuary of my school.'
'Great,' Curtis replied unenthusiastically.
'Dragon Claw will awake soon. He will be angry, and though he cannot hurt Mad Monkey or his disciples, he can hurt you,' the demigod confessed.
'Wonderful,' Passepout remarked, thinking about just what else could go wrong at this point.
'I cannot protect you from him,' the demigod explained, 'but I can see that you are safely escorted from the lands in which he dwells before he awakens. I could offer you a shortcut to the east, you might say.'
Mad Monkey gave Volo and Passepout a wink, overlooked by the others, to assure the two travelers that he realized the needs of their arrangements. Then with a wave of his staff, the demigod opened a hole in the fabric of reality that was the Isles of Wa.
'Go quickly,' the demigod instructed, 'and follow the path that lies ahead of you. Observe whatever you want along the way, but stop to talk to no one except each other. There will be a light at the far end. Go to it.'
'Where will that be?' Volo asked.
'A place farther east,' the demigod replied. 'Now go! Time is short. Already that petty fiend Dragon Claw is drifting into consciousness.'
One by one, the travelers entered the pitch-black portal until only Passepout remained with Mad Monkey.
The chubby thespian hesitated.
'You are braver than you believe,' the demigod encouraged.
'Is this shortcut dangerous?' Passepout asked.
'Of course not,' the demigod replied, giving the heavyset thespian a push that sent him hurtling through the portal. 'It is only through the land of the dead.'
The last thing Passepout heard before the darkness enveloped him was the laughter of the demigod known as Mad Monkey.
Then all went black.
Chapter 17
'Well, it's about time,' Shurleen reproved. 'What took you so long?'
'I had to say good-bye to our most gracious host,' Passepout responded, brushing past her to take his place at Volo's side.
'Well, if that's all of us,' Volo observed, taking the lead, 'onward, then.'
The four travelers started walking farther into the darkness.
The darkness was of a strange quality. It was pitch black, as if one were buried alive, yet there seemed to be enough illumination so that they could see each other, as well as certain details of the passage around them.
The passage around them was also curious. At one point it seemed to be an infinite universe of darkness stretching out in all directions around the narrow path upon which they walked, dwarfing them in its infinity. At other times it seemed to close in on them as if it were a mine or a cave through some Underdark lair or mountain cavern, with the only space existing a hairbreadth above their heads and even less than that at their sides. It was both an agoraphobic's and a claustrophobic's nightmare at the same time.
Though none of the party had yet to see anything that might pose a threat, uneasiness pervaded their midst, a palpable fear of the unknown that seemed to be tightening its grip on them the farther they went.
'Remember,' Volo reminded, 'don't talk to anyone we come across.'
'What is this place?' Shurleen asked, a none-too-slight tremor audible in her voice.
'Mad Monkey said it was the Land of the Dead,' Passepout replied.
Shurleen shivered at the mention of the word 'dead,' and quickly grasped the hand of the person nearest her as a secondary reinforcement that she was not alone. Curtis looked down at his hand firmly grasped by the heiress, her lacquered nails reflecting the darkness while framed in the creamy whiteness of her pampered hands. His urge to pull away was overridden by his sense of the needs of his companion, no matter how disagreeable she could be.
Gradually, parts of the passing landscape became clearer as they passed. Exotic beasts, horned beings, and mindless husks that once might have walked among the living seemed to pass them by as if they were unaware of the travelers' presence.
'Who are they?' Shurleen whispered.
'Beings with whom we do not wish to speak,' Curtis succinctly replied, urging her to move faster so their group would not become more stretched out.
After what seemed like hours of treading through the darkness, the group decided to rest for a few minutes to catch their breath.
'Mad Monkey didn't say anything about not stopping along the way, did he?' Volo queried of the rotund thespian.
'No,' Passepout replied. 'Stopping seemed to be all right as long as we didn't talk to anyone. I even remember he said we could observe what we wanted, though, quite frankly, I really haven't seen anything worth writing home about.'
'Let's hope it stays that way,' Curtis interjected. 'I prefer boring and dull to dangerous and deadly any day.'
'I wouldn't call the walking dead and fiends of the underworld boring and dull,' Shurleen argued, without relinquishing her grip on Curtis's hand.
'Hey, if they don't bother us, we won't bother them, and that's fine by me,' Curtis replied, beginning to enjoy the feeling of feminine digits between his rough-skinned fingers, calloused by the bristles of splintering ropes and abrasive surfaces.
Passepout saw a rocky, mushroom-like growth off to the side which he thought would make a good seat to rest his weary bulk, and decided to remove himself from the group to take advantage of it.
Eo, that feels good, Passepout thought, his thoughts beginning to drift as his body began to relax.
'Hi! Remember me?' a voice purred.
There, now sitting next to him, was the inviting figure of Shurleen dressed as she had been that night at the No Bull House, silken kimono open almost to the waist, her hair freshly scented with lotus blossom shampoo.
'I want you!' the voice purred.
Once again Passepout was at a loss for words, his desires and fragile ego riding a runaway mining car down a steep-sloped tunnel.
'Now!' the voice demanded.
'Hey, Passepout, time to get the lead out. We'd be burning daylight if there were any light to be had,' called
