Ron was completely winded. Gasped painfully for breath as he reached the castle. Tas was already trying to find a way in. A shriek split the air. Where was Hermoine? She had been right behind him, hadn't she? WHAT? 'HERMOINE!' He cried, to no avail. 'What the-' He heard Harry gasp beside him as Hermoine suddenly turned and raced towards the monsters. 'What is she doing?' She raced back, and suddenly Ron saw the image of himself and Harry lying in their own blood on the ground. But they were here! What where those? She was putting herself in certain doom for them? 'I never thought Hermoine would be so brave!' he thought to himself, mesmerized. 'MOINE!' The images vanished, to be replaced by monsters… Hermoine turned and saw the real Ron and Harry, safe. For a moment, her eyes looked almost peaceful before the caught Ron's. 'I'm sorry.' She whispered as the vanished in the tide of monsters. Ron felt tears streaming down his face, he started towards where he had last seen here, only to be brought up short by Harry. Harry's eyes were filled with tears as well. 'Tas is getting the door open. C'mon.'
'We can't just leave her! Harry you prat! We've got to go… she might still be alive! How-'
'No, Ron.' Said Harry gently. 'She wouldn't want you to go to your death. I've learned that you cannot treat other's sacrifices in vain. Come with me.'
'No! What do you know.' Ron snarled. Harry's eyes became filled with pain as he grabbed Ron and pulled him through the dank opening of the door. Tas shut it behind them. With a heavy thud, they were alone.
'What do we do now?' Harry whispered to Tas through Ron's sobs.
'We look around.' The solemn-looking Kender scrambled to his feet and lit a match. A passageway lead off to one side. Tas motioned for them to follow, and set off down the hall. The little light flickered and cast weird shadows over the walls and ceiling. They went on for about fifty paces, then the passageway branched off. They took the left one, as Tas said 'well, we aren't exactly in a boring situation, but I think my uncle would understand' and set out again. They went through many such passages without interruption. It seemed that the castle was deserted. Surprisingly, and this fact Ron was immensely grateful for, there were no spiders either. The place seemed to be totally devoid of any life. A steady dripping noise filled their ears, and the stones had become wet and slippery. An iron tang hung heavy in the air, but the light hid the source of the water. 'I think we should turn back.' Harry said nervously. 'We're going further underground.'
'Until we wake up, there's no where else to go anyway. So we might as well go this way as any.' Tas replied. Their voices sounded echo-y and muffled in the stillness. The water level had grown. Now it was knee length, strangely slimy and heavy. The iron tang had grown as well; it clung to everything and made Ron feel sick. This far in, a sort of crust had formed over the water, cracking and breaking as they waded in. They were half swimming now, trying not to swallow the rank water. 'I hope it's not toxic, whatever it is.' Ron grumbled. Then his feet touched solid ground. 'Thank heaven.' He began to wade towards shore. As they had begun their swim, Tas's light had gone out. He tried to light another one, but they were too wet. 'Lumos' Whispered Harry. Ron did the same, and they began to make their way by wandlight. 'Just when did you say your dream last time ended?' Harry asked Tas, squinting in the low light.
'When the last of us was dead.' Tas replied with a shrug.
'You didn't seem affected by the monsters – how did you get hurt?'
'I was not hurt because I wasn't afraid of the monsters. I sprung a trap. A simple lock, a simple trap. And I sprung them both. Twice, but Raistlin saved me once. The once that mattered. I tried to save Tika. But I couldn't…I couldn't open the lock…' Tas looked almost somber for a moment.
'I don't like the sound of that 'until we were all dead' part' murmured Harry. They reached the end of the corridor. As they began to turn, a shape solidified out of the mist.
'I am charged with the guard of this entrance. Who goes here?' his spear and sword looked sharp and deadly in the wandlight. Harry and Ron pulled aside for a hurried conversation. 'That thing looks deadly….'
'Is a Harry Potter among you? If so, let him step out so that I may kill him. The rest of you may go unhindered. This sayth the voice of Lord Voldemort.'
'Rather stupid, though.' Ron muttered. 'As if we would admit to being you now that we know whoever admits to that name will be killed.'
'No one here is of that name.' Harry stood up boldly and walked towards the misty figure. 'May we pass?'
'No one may pass until I have slain Harry Potter. Lord Voldemort wishes it known that this passage is the only way out. Without going through here, you are doomed to wander here for eternity, until your bodies decay and you pass into death of your own accord.
They withdrew again, trying to decide the best course of action. 'We've got to get through here, obviously. Otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have created this guard here. Those weapons look too real for comfort though, even if the rest of him is only smog. Ron got up. It was obvious to him by this point that Harry was the one who was going to have to go on. Neither he nor Hermoine would be much use against Voldemort. If this was only a dream, he was going to turn out fine anyway. He was bloody tired of this whole thing anyway. Before Harry could react, Ron stood up again and faced the shadow being. He said clearly and distinctly,
'I am Harry Potter.' Harry didn't know what had come over Ron. He was sure they could've found another way out of this. 'Ron.' He groaned as the shadowy figure, in one fluid movement, drove the spear through Ron's body.
'The one is dead. The way is clear.' The figure vanished, dissolving like smoke.
Harry rushed to his friend's side. Ron's hand was clenched over a rapidly spreading patch of wetness. His skin was pallid, and as Harry knelt down beside him a tremor racked his body.
'Ron… one sec. I think I can staunch the bleeding.'
'Harry, no. You have to go on. You're the one that matters.' Ron coughed painfully, pushing Harry's wand aside. 'I'd just slow you down. It's just a dream, remember?'
'But Tas said the dream he had came real…'
'It doesn't matter. You have to go on. Besides… imagine Hermoine's face when I come up and start driving her crazy again… bet she finally thought she got away from me… y'know at the time I though she was crazy, even if she did think she was trying to save us… I just wish…'
Harry never knew just what Ron wished. Brushing back tears, he got to his feet. 'I'm sorry, Ron. Why am I such a dangerous person to be friends with!' he shouted to no one in particular.
Two left now -Tas and myself. I wonder who'll get killed first. He thought bitterly. Why am I such a dangerous person to know?
They continued along the tunnel. The rough stone was slippery and damp, and seemed to eat up the light of the wand so that it was hard to see anything but shadow. Even Tas seemed subdued as the light at the end of the tunnel grew larger. Harry was sure that Voldemort was out there somewhere, waiting for him… biding his time… he shook these thoughts from his head. No use making himself any more scared. Not yet, anyway. The light grew more distant, a sharp and cold light that seemed dead before it even reached them. Then they were there. Harry paused a moment before entering the chamber. It seemed quite vacant, so he stepped in. Almost immediately he found himself inexplicable bound and gagged. Inexplicably until he heard that cold and harsh voice that reverberated so often in his nightmares.
'Welcome, Harry Potter. I see you are just as foolish now as you have ever been.' It gave a dry cackle. 'Where are your beloved friends? Did you abandon them to their fates? This is all coming true, you know. You cannot change it. You will all fall before me, kneeling at my feet, and plead for mercy before I am through with you. But I think your greatest torture will be the knowledge that you lead your friends to their fates… Wait a moment now. I am expecting a few more guests. Ones that I have just as deep a grudge at as I do with you. I might as well despose of you all at once, do you not think? Oh yes. You are gagged. How do you like being powerless, Harry Potter? Unable to speak or move. Unable to live. As you left me, those many years ago. I died then, Harry Potter. I died when the curse backfired. But you already knew that. What you did not know is that someone else prevented me from returning. To keep myself alive from just such an attack as you had described, I had learned the art of Necromancy. A forbidden Art, yet an all-practical and ever-useful one. The Abhorsen stopped me as I attempted to return to the world of the living. You do not know who she is, do you? She is the one pledged to return to death the undead, and bind those who will not go willingly. The Bane of all Necromancers. It is ironic, because she could be the most powerful of us all… but she chooses to thwart us instead. Each Abhorsen gives her life defending the living against the dead. This one has found her doom all too soon, I am afraid. She will be joining us shortly. The trap I have laid is about to be sprung. Watch and wait. We must watch and wait. One for his doom, the other for his triumph. So alike, and so different.'
Harry could not move, could not even place the voice. It seemed to come from all locations at once, everywhere and nowhere. He hoped Tas was all right, but he doubted that. It seemed that they all would die here. The cause was hopeless… hopeless…
'Kithliun the Wretched. We meet again. You must tell me sometime of how you managed to avoid going past the Eighth Gate.' A tall young woman dressed in strange armor, with a glowing sword unsheathed in one hand stepped out of the shadows. A bandoleer of bells, to hold seven bells lay across her chest. One pouch lay empty, the bell in her hand. 'What good will bells be against Voldemort?' wondered Harry. 'What's she gonna do, sing him to death or something?'
'Lirael. Well met as always. I doubt I will have the time to tell you my story. I will be too busy 'Lirael. Well met as always. I doubt I will have the time to tell you my story. I will be too busy laughing at the fate of you and that young boy over there. The woman looked in his direction, then back at Voldemort. 'Confident as always. It shall prove your undoing.' She raised the bell as if to ring it. 'Saraneth orders you to obey.' A clear note sprung from the bell. It washed over Harry, then over Voldemort. Voldemort shook his head as if to clear it, then stood up. 'You will have to do better than that, I'm afraid, Lirael. I just seem to be too powerful for you this time around, don't I?' Lirael, if that was her name, advanced on Voldmort, her sword drawn. Voldmort drew a sword of his own. Where Lirael's sword gleamed of light, with strange marks and symbols flowing across it, Voldmort's was of shadow. Flaming runes flickered across his midnight blade. They met with a shower of silver sparks. Parry riposte, Parry', riposte, never seeming to quite overcome the other. Suddenly Voldemort whistled a musical and yet frightening note. I learned well from the necromancers of your world. He said. 'I do not need bells to summon my warriors.'
A squelch of feet long dead, followed by the stink of long decayed flesh greeted his words. Into the chamber flowed the Dead, the spirits within them hungering for the living. Lirael was attacked immediately. The Abhorsen was long abhorred by the Dead, as she must forever keep them from the life they hunger for. She cut through many of them, but lost her concentration. In this momentary loss of concentration, Voldemort struck. His blade appeared out of nowhere, sinking through her armor and into her flesh. She slid off the sword, the dead hounding her, and fell to the ground. Blood trickled out of a corner of her mouth, yet she still had the strength for one more action. Pulling the last and greatest bell from her bandoleer, she rang Astarael the Weeper. As she did, the world seemed to skew out of focus. Harry was pulled down, down into a great flowing river, icy cold and swift. The girl, eyes closed in death, floated alongside him. Voldemort and his minions, though, were carried along by the swiftest current of all, deeper and deeper into death. Their howls echoed deep from beyond. Sleep overtook Harry, and he surrendered to the icy flow. Harry's eyes sprung open, as did Ron's. They looked at each other in astonishment. What was that? Ron wondered. Would it all come true? Harry wasn't certain, but he figured that it wasn't a very good omen. Suddenly, the wall opposite his four-poster gave a shudder and became translucent. It swirled with runes and power marks.
'See? I told you I could do it easy.' A voice came from the other side. A woman's voice answered.
'I'll go first with Yrael. Then Sam, then Nick.' A bark sounded. 'Yes, dog. You're coming too.' The portal began to shimmer and shift, and suddenly they were not alone in the room. More shapes followed. One tripped over Harry's trunk with a 'bloody darkness!' He said a word and a glowing sigil alighted in midair. It was like no magic Harry had ever seen.
'This place stinks of Free Magic. We'd better be careful…'
'Who are you?' Harry asked cautiously. They all seemed to be wearing armor and carrying swords for some reason, as if expecting a battle.
'Who's there? Come out and let me see your charter mark!'
'What's a charter mark?' Harry asked, very reasonably, he thought.
He was roughly yanked off his feet. 'Don't be funny, boy. Do you bear a mark of the charter? Answer truthfully.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'He doesn't.' One reported to the leader, who seemed to be a young woman. 'Should we trust them?'
'I don't know. Let's at least try to find out where we are.'
Harry pulled out his wand, whispered Lumos, and prepared to see his nighttime visitors. 'Free Magic' the nearest one whispered hoarsely. Then Harry found himself looking straight at three of the deadliest looking blades he had ever seen…
END BOOK 1
'We can't just leave her! Harry you prat! We've got to go… she might still be alive! How-'
'No, Ron.' Said Harry gently. 'She wouldn't want you to go to your death. I've learned that you cannot treat other's sacrifices in vain. Come with me.'
'No! What do you know.' Ron snarled. Harry's eyes became filled with pain as he grabbed Ron and pulled him through the dank opening of the door. Tas shut it behind them. With a heavy thud, they were alone.
'What do we do now?' Harry whispered to Tas through Ron's sobs.
'We look around.' The solemn-looking Kender scrambled to his feet and lit a match. A passageway lead off to one side. Tas motioned for them to follow, and set off down the hall. The little light flickered and cast weird shadows over the walls and ceiling. They went on for about fifty paces, then the passageway branched off. They took the left one, as Tas said 'well, we aren't exactly in a boring situation, but I think my uncle would understand' and set out again. They went through many such passages without interruption. It seemed that the castle was deserted. Surprisingly, and this fact Ron was immensely grateful for, there were no spiders either. The place seemed to be totally devoid of any life. A steady dripping noise filled their ears, and the stones had become wet and slippery. An iron tang hung heavy in the air, but the light hid the source of the water. 'I think we should turn back.' Harry said nervously. 'We're going further underground.'
'Until we wake up, there's no where else to go anyway. So we might as well go this way as any.' Tas replied. Their voices sounded echo-y and muffled in the stillness. The water level had grown. Now it was knee length, strangely slimy and heavy. The iron tang had grown as well; it clung to everything and made Ron feel sick. This far in, a sort of crust had formed over the water, cracking and breaking as they waded in. They were half swimming now, trying not to swallow the rank water. 'I hope it's not toxic, whatever it is.' Ron grumbled. Then his feet touched solid ground. 'Thank heaven.' He began to wade towards shore. As they had begun their swim, Tas's light had gone out. He tried to light another one, but they were too wet. 'Lumos' Whispered Harry. Ron did the same, and they began to make their way by wandlight. 'Just when did you say your dream last time ended?' Harry asked Tas, squinting in the low light.
'When the last of us was dead.' Tas replied with a shrug.
'You didn't seem affected by the monsters – how did you get hurt?'
'I was not hurt because I wasn't afraid of the monsters. I sprung a trap. A simple lock, a simple trap. And I sprung them both. Twice, but Raistlin saved me once. The once that mattered. I tried to save Tika. But I couldn't…I couldn't open the lock…' Tas looked almost somber for a moment.
'I don't like the sound of that 'until we were all dead' part' murmured Harry. They reached the end of the corridor. As they began to turn, a shape solidified out of the mist.
'I am charged with the guard of this entrance. Who goes here?' his spear and sword looked sharp and deadly in the wandlight. Harry and Ron pulled aside for a hurried conversation. 'That thing looks deadly….'
'Is a Harry Potter among you? If so, let him step out so that I may kill him. The rest of you may go unhindered. This sayth the voice of Lord Voldemort.'
'Rather stupid, though.' Ron muttered. 'As if we would admit to being you now that we know whoever admits to that name will be killed.'
'No one here is of that name.' Harry stood up boldly and walked towards the misty figure. 'May we pass?'
'No one may pass until I have slain Harry Potter. Lord Voldemort wishes it known that this passage is the only way out. Without going through here, you are doomed to wander here for eternity, until your bodies decay and you pass into death of your own accord.
They withdrew again, trying to decide the best course of action. 'We've got to get through here, obviously. Otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have created this guard here. Those weapons look too real for comfort though, even if the rest of him is only smog. Ron got up. It was obvious to him by this point that Harry was the one who was going to have to go on. Neither he nor Hermoine would be much use against Voldemort. If this was only a dream, he was going to turn out fine anyway. He was bloody tired of this whole thing anyway. Before Harry could react, Ron stood up again and faced the shadow being. He said clearly and distinctly,
'I am Harry Potter.' Harry didn't know what had come over Ron. He was sure they could've found another way out of this. 'Ron.' He groaned as the shadowy figure, in one fluid movement, drove the spear through Ron's body.
'The one is dead. The way is clear.' The figure vanished, dissolving like smoke.
Harry rushed to his friend's side. Ron's hand was clenched over a rapidly spreading patch of wetness. His skin was pallid, and as Harry knelt down beside him a tremor racked his body.
'Ron… one sec. I think I can staunch the bleeding.'
'Harry, no. You have to go on. You're the one that matters.' Ron coughed painfully, pushing Harry's wand aside. 'I'd just slow you down. It's just a dream, remember?'
'But Tas said the dream he had came real…'
'It doesn't matter. You have to go on. Besides… imagine Hermoine's face when I come up and start driving her crazy again… bet she finally thought she got away from me… y'know at the time I though she was crazy, even if she did think she was trying to save us… I just wish…'
Harry never knew just what Ron wished. Brushing back tears, he got to his feet. 'I'm sorry, Ron. Why am I such a dangerous person to be friends with!' he shouted to no one in particular.
Two left now -Tas and myself. I wonder who'll get killed first. He thought bitterly. Why am I such a dangerous person to know?
They continued along the tunnel. The rough stone was slippery and damp, and seemed to eat up the light of the wand so that it was hard to see anything but shadow. Even Tas seemed subdued as the light at the end of the tunnel grew larger. Harry was sure that Voldemort was out there somewhere, waiting for him… biding his time… he shook these thoughts from his head. No use making himself any more scared. Not yet, anyway. The light grew more distant, a sharp and cold light that seemed dead before it even reached them. Then they were there. Harry paused a moment before entering the chamber. It seemed quite vacant, so he stepped in. Almost immediately he found himself inexplicable bound and gagged. Inexplicably until he heard that cold and harsh voice that reverberated so often in his nightmares.
'Welcome, Harry Potter. I see you are just as foolish now as you have ever been.' It gave a dry cackle. 'Where are your beloved friends? Did you abandon them to their fates? This is all coming true, you know. You cannot change it. You will all fall before me, kneeling at my feet, and plead for mercy before I am through with you. But I think your greatest torture will be the knowledge that you lead your friends to their fates… Wait a moment now. I am expecting a few more guests. Ones that I have just as deep a grudge at as I do with you. I might as well despose of you all at once, do you not think? Oh yes. You are gagged. How do you like being powerless, Harry Potter? Unable to speak or move. Unable to live. As you left me, those many years ago. I died then, Harry Potter. I died when the curse backfired. But you already knew that. What you did not know is that someone else prevented me from returning. To keep myself alive from just such an attack as you had described, I had learned the art of Necromancy. A forbidden Art, yet an all-practical and ever-useful one. The Abhorsen stopped me as I attempted to return to the world of the living. You do not know who she is, do you? She is the one pledged to return to death the undead, and bind those who will not go willingly. The Bane of all Necromancers. It is ironic, because she could be the most powerful of us all… but she chooses to thwart us instead. Each Abhorsen gives her life defending the living against the dead. This one has found her doom all too soon, I am afraid. She will be joining us shortly. The trap I have laid is about to be sprung. Watch and wait. We must watch and wait. One for his doom, the other for his triumph. So alike, and so different.'
Harry could not move, could not even place the voice. It seemed to come from all locations at once, everywhere and nowhere. He hoped Tas was all right, but he doubted that. It seemed that they all would die here. The cause was hopeless… hopeless…
'Kithliun the Wretched. We meet again. You must tell me sometime of how you managed to avoid going past the Eighth Gate.' A tall young woman dressed in strange armor, with a glowing sword unsheathed in one hand stepped out of the shadows. A bandoleer of bells, to hold seven bells lay across her chest. One pouch lay empty, the bell in her hand. 'What good will bells be against Voldemort?' wondered Harry. 'What's she gonna do, sing him to death or something?'
'Lirael. Well met as always. I doubt I will have the time to tell you my story. I will be too busy 'Lirael. Well met as always. I doubt I will have the time to tell you my story. I will be too busy laughing at the fate of you and that young boy over there. The woman looked in his direction, then back at Voldemort. 'Confident as always. It shall prove your undoing.' She raised the bell as if to ring it. 'Saraneth orders you to obey.' A clear note sprung from the bell. It washed over Harry, then over Voldemort. Voldemort shook his head as if to clear it, then stood up. 'You will have to do better than that, I'm afraid, Lirael. I just seem to be too powerful for you this time around, don't I?' Lirael, if that was her name, advanced on Voldmort, her sword drawn. Voldmort drew a sword of his own. Where Lirael's sword gleamed of light, with strange marks and symbols flowing across it, Voldmort's was of shadow. Flaming runes flickered across his midnight blade. They met with a shower of silver sparks. Parry riposte, Parry', riposte, never seeming to quite overcome the other. Suddenly Voldemort whistled a musical and yet frightening note. I learned well from the necromancers of your world. He said. 'I do not need bells to summon my warriors.'
A squelch of feet long dead, followed by the stink of long decayed flesh greeted his words. Into the chamber flowed the Dead, the spirits within them hungering for the living. Lirael was attacked immediately. The Abhorsen was long abhorred by the Dead, as she must forever keep them from the life they hunger for. She cut through many of them, but lost her concentration. In this momentary loss of concentration, Voldemort struck. His blade appeared out of nowhere, sinking through her armor and into her flesh. She slid off the sword, the dead hounding her, and fell to the ground. Blood trickled out of a corner of her mouth, yet she still had the strength for one more action. Pulling the last and greatest bell from her bandoleer, she rang Astarael the Weeper. As she did, the world seemed to skew out of focus. Harry was pulled down, down into a great flowing river, icy cold and swift. The girl, eyes closed in death, floated alongside him. Voldemort and his minions, though, were carried along by the swiftest current of all, deeper and deeper into death. Their howls echoed deep from beyond. Sleep overtook Harry, and he surrendered to the icy flow. Harry's eyes sprung open, as did Ron's. They looked at each other in astonishment. What was that? Ron wondered. Would it all come true? Harry wasn't certain, but he figured that it wasn't a very good omen. Suddenly, the wall opposite his four-poster gave a shudder and became translucent. It swirled with runes and power marks.
'See? I told you I could do it easy.' A voice came from the other side. A woman's voice answered.
'I'll go first with Yrael. Then Sam, then Nick.' A bark sounded. 'Yes, dog. You're coming too.' The portal began to shimmer and shift, and suddenly they were not alone in the room. More shapes followed. One tripped over Harry's trunk with a 'bloody darkness!' He said a word and a glowing sigil alighted in midair. It was like no magic Harry had ever seen.
'This place stinks of Free Magic. We'd better be careful…'
'Who are you?' Harry asked cautiously. They all seemed to be wearing armor and carrying swords for some reason, as if expecting a battle.
'Who's there? Come out and let me see your charter mark!'
'What's a charter mark?' Harry asked, very reasonably, he thought.
He was roughly yanked off his feet. 'Don't be funny, boy. Do you bear a mark of the charter? Answer truthfully.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'He doesn't.' One reported to the leader, who seemed to be a young woman. 'Should we trust them?'
'I don't know. Let's at least try to find out where we are.'
Harry pulled out his wand, whispered Lumos, and prepared to see his nighttime visitors. 'Free Magic' the nearest one whispered hoarsely. Then Harry found himself looking straight at three of the deadliest looking blades he had ever seen…
END BOOK 1