" Inyx, you' re back. Thank alclass="underline" Inyx!"
" Lan!"
She reached out, touched his hand, then disappeared with a loud snapping noise.
" What happened? Krek, she was here and I lost her. She' s back in the mist."
" No, friend Lan Martak. She didn' t go back. I watched carefully. She retained her material body, and, by human standards, a nice one it is, too. I prefer more fur on the legs, naturally. All arachnids enjoy the sight of several well- turned legs, those being our most prominent feature."
" Krek!"
" Oh, yes. She formed most nicely, then winked out. I do believe the cenotaph took her. She walked the Road."
" It opened already? Of course it did. I opened it!"
" And it has already closed. Remember, the cenotaphs do not remain open constantly. Only once daily do they open, then for an appallingly short period. You should look into changing that, the next cenotaph you make."
" It' s closed?" Lan hardly believed his ears. The first crypt he' d entered had been open to another world for only seconds. This one consecrated to Ehznoll had been open for long minutes- but he' d taken those minutes to summon Inyx, to coax her from the whiteness. By the time she' d reposed in the crypt, the time had expired.
Inyx went ahead of them to a new world. They had to wait for another day to follow.
" We' re still not together!" he complained.
" There is only time between the two of you now," said Morto. " Wait a day, then follow. She saw you and must know that you follow. She will wait at the other side."
" Wait," said Lan glumly. " So we wait."
" The time is almost upon us," said Krek. " Prepare to follow Inyx."
" I' m ready," said Lan. " Are you, Morto?"
" No."
" What?"
" I' m not going." The mage' s son stood to one side of the hut, his chin held high and a glow about him that Lan had seen before. He appeared more confident now, his shoulders straighter and his face more composed. For too long he had lived in his father' s long shadow. Morto obviously had come to a decision on his own now, possibly for the first time. Free of familial obligation, he grew as a man.
" Why not?"
" I will stay on this world. Others offer me nothing I can' t find here."
" And?"
" I would carry on Ehznoll' s religion. The strength of this cenotaph is a tribute to his courage. There must have been parts of his belief more potent than any magic. Perhaps faith is always stronger. It is something I must explore for my own peace of mind. Also, my father lies on this mountain; I think my destiny does, also."
" Come with us, Morto. Don' t spend your life in this way. Help us continue your father' s fight against Claybore."
" My fight lies elsewhere. I haven' t the talent or will to do battle with Claybore. Let me stay and tend to this holy shrine. It is something I can do, something I want to do. Go, go find your friend."
" The cenotaph opens, friend Lan Martak."
" Morto?"
" Go."
Lan' s blossoming magical sense " saw" the cenotaph begin to open. It glowed like a brightly lit doorway. Krek momentarily blocked off the light, then vanished. Through the illuminated rectangle Lan saw another world, a startlingly different world. He glanced back at Morto to see a different kind of light, a religious fervor such as had sent Ehznoll to his death.
But it wasn' t death Lan Martak sought. It was life. Life and Inyx and freedom. He dropped into the crypt, felt the magics work on him and send him into another world, a world to be warned of Claybore and his grey- clad soldiers, a world of boundless promise- and boundless evil.
He faded from Mount Tartanius and awoke to the next step along the Cenotaph Road.
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