«Only in technical prowess. It might make him more vulnerable, too.»
«Well, the technical end of things counts for something.»
«It does.»
«Do the Games always get confusing at some point? Do they mess up the players' thinking, ideas, values?»
«Always. Especially as events begin to cascade and accelerate near the end. We create a kind of vortex about us just by being here and doing certain things. Your confusion may trip you up. Somebody else's confusion may save you.»
«You're saying that it gets weird, but it all cancels out?»
«Pretty much, I think. Till the end, of course.»
There came a flash of light from nearby, followed by an instant crack of thunder. The Good Doctor's storm was spreading. Abruptly, the wind shifted, and we were drenched by the sudden pelting.
We bounded across the way immediately, into the shelter of a much larger stone.
Sitting there, miserable in the special way that wetness brings, my gaze was suddenly fixed upon the side of the stone. There, brought out perhaps by the moisture, a series of scratchings and irregularities now appeared to be somewhat more than that.
«Well, I hope the whole gang of them appreciates all this trouble,» she said, «Nyarlathotep, Chthulu, and all the rest of the unpronounceables. Makes me wish I had a nice simple job catching mice for some farmer's wife…»
Yes, they were characters in some alphabet I did not know, incised there, worn faint, emphasized suddenly as the trickling water darkened the stone in some places, bringing out contrasts. Even as I watched, they seemed to be growing clearer.
Then I drew back, for they began to glow with a faint red light. They continued to brighten.
«Snuff,» she said then, «why're you standing in the rain?» Then her gaze moved to follow my own, and she added, «Uh-oh! Think they heard me?»
Now they were ablaze, those letters, and they began to flow as if reading themselves. Excess light formed itself into a high rectangular perimeter about them.
«I was only joking, you know,» she said softly.
The interior of the rectangle took on a milky light. A part of me wanted to bolt and run, but another part stood fascinated by the process. Unfortunately, it was the latter part that seemed to be in control. Graymalk stood like a shadowy statue, staring.
Deep within it then came a roiling, and I suppose it must be called a premonition, for suddenly that other part of me was in control again. I sprang forward, seized Graymalk by the nape of her neck with my teeth and sprang away to the right. Just as I did, a flare of lightning sprang from the rectangle and fell upon the area we had occupied but moments before. I stumbled, feeling a small shock, feeling my hair rise. Graymalk wailed, and the air smelled of ozone.
«I guess they're kind of touchy,» I said, rising to my feet and falling again.
Then I felt the wind swirling about us, ten times stronger than it had been earlier. I tried again to get to my feet and was again knocked down. I glanced back at the stone, saw that the roiling had subsided, that another lightning bolt might not be imminent. Instead, a faint outline hung there, of a silver key. I crawled nearer to Graymalk. The wind increased in intensity. Somewhere, a voice came chanting, «Ia! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Wood with a Thousand Young!»
«What's happening?» she wailed.
«Someone opened a gate to provide means for expressing disapproval of your remark,» I suggested. «That's done now, but the door hasn't swung shut yet. That's what I think.»
She leaned against me, back arched, ears flat, fur risen. The wind, stronger still, was pushing against us now, near to the point of irresistibility. I began to slide across the ground in the direction of the gate, dragging her with me.
«I've a feeling it'll close too late!» she cried. «We're going through!»
She turned then and leaped upon me, clinging with all four paws to my neck. Her claws were very sharp.
«We mustn't separate!» she said.
«Agreed!» I choked, as I began sliding faster.
I was able to gather my feet beneath me as we moved. Rather than being pushed through, willy-nilly, some measure of grace might provide a survival edge.
It was easy to stop thinking of it as a rock wall that we were approaching, for there were obvious depths to it, though no clear features presented, and the image of the key had already faded. What lay beyond, I'd no idea; that we were going to go through, I'd no doubt. Better a little dignity then… .
Straightening my legs, I leaped forward. Into the breach. Into the mist… .
… Into the silence. Immediately, as we passed through, the sounds of wind and rainfall ceased. We did not come to rest upon a hard surface, or any other surface. We were suspended in a place of pearl gray light, or, if we fell, there was no sensation of falling. My legs were still extended, forward and back, as if I were leaping a fence, and while misty eddies and currents, faint as high clouds, played about us, my sense of motion was paradoxical; that is, by turning my head in any direction, I could create the feeling of pursuing a different vector.
I did turn my head to the rear in time to see the rectangle fade behind us, paling stones and grass within it. Dotted about the place where it had been, as well as about ourselves, droplets of rain and a few leaves and strands of grass hung in the air. Or perhaps we were all falling together, or rising, depending on…
Graymalk gave a little wail, then looked about. I felt her relax after that, then she said, «It is important that we not be parted here.»
«You know where we are?» I asked.
«Yes. I'm sure I will land on my feet, but I don't know about you. Let me move around onto your back. We'll both be more comfortable that way.»
She worked her way about my neck then, finally settling into a position behind my shoulders. She did retract her claws as she settled.
«Where,» I said, «are we?»
«I see now that something tried to help me as we were being swept forward,» she said. «This is not of a piece with the lightning stroke. But the way was opened and he seized it as a means of rescue. Possibly there is even more to it than that.»
«I'm afraid I don't understand you,» I told her.
«We are between our place and the Dreamworld now,» she said.
«You have been here before?»
«Yes, but not right here recently.»
«It feels as if we could drift here forever.»
«I suppose that we could.»
«So how do we go ahead, or go back?»
«My memories of this part are all scattered. If we do not like where we find ourselves, we withdraw and try again. I will try it now. Call to me if anything too unnatural occurs.»
With that, she grew silent, and while I waited for whatever sequel was to ensue I thought back over the events which had brought us to this place. It struck me as odd that her mere disparaging mention of the Elders had not only been heard, but that whichever had taken umbrage thereby had been strong enough to do something about it. True, the power was rising in this, a most powerful time, but I wondered at such profligacy with it when there must have been multitudes of better uses to which it might be put, unless it were simply another instance of that famous inscrutability which I sometimes think is to be better understood as childishness. Then a possibility struck sparks deep within my mind, but I had to let it go, unexamined, as alterations began about me.
There came a brightening from overhead, nothing as patent as a single light source, but an increasing contrast to the darker area below my feet. I said nothing about it to Graymalk, for I had resolved not to address her, barring emergencies, until she spoke. But I studied that light. There was something familiar about it, from driftings off and awakenings perhaps… .