[Mkguild] Divine Travails of Rats - Pars IV. Infernus (c)

[C. Matthias]

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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx

Pars IV: Infernus

(c)

Saturday, May 12, 708 CR


The forest delved into a broad valley with the 
trickling of a brook through a culvert on the 
other side of a line of short hills. The wind 
pushed down the valley at first, but was soon 
blocked by thick shields of rock so that they 
were for a moment protected. The ground, once dry 
but for the soft carpet of moss, was now squishy 
with tracks of mud and puddles of rancid water. 
Their steps avoided these, but Charles still felt 
the mire pressing into his toes and wedged 
beneath his claws. The further they descended the 
tighter the branches interlocked above them, 
blocking out even the suggestions of shifting 
light from the clouds. The colors on his guide's 
garments were muted to gray, and only the 
luminous green glow from lichen and mushrooms brought any light to their eyes.

The valley came to an abrupt end after a short 
rise when the ground dropped away in a series of 
steep cliffs. The trees grasped for every scrap 
of earth, their roots dangling off the edge in 
empty air, branches stretching out perilously as 
if the entire tree could be pushed with a hand 
across the precipice. Charles gaped at the 
dizzying height for he could not penetrate the 
gloom far enough to see if there was even a 
bottom. He felt as if he stood on the edge of the 
very world and only the emptiness of nothing was 
open to him with a single foolish step.

His guide turned to the left, following a track 
along the promontory that slowly descended amidst 
a shelter of rock. As the rock stretched upward 
on their left, the cliff yawning on their right, 
the trees dwindled and then disappeared 
altogether leaving the rat anxious and exposed. A 
bitter wind grasped at his cloak and from 
somewhere up above he felt certain he saw 
broad-winged shapes circling and swooping in the scarred blackness.

For several long minutes they traveled on the 
narrow track of rock with an endless pit at his 
right and a steep wall of stone he did not dare 
commune with on his left. The glimmer of lichen, 
pale and sickly green, cast an eerie pall on 
their path and the walls enclosing about them 
like a fist. Charles crept as close behind the 
gray-skinned figure as he dared, eager to quit 
this place where even his breath felt too loud.

Eventually the cliffs veered to their right and 
the passage dove through a cleft in the rocks. 
Down this passage his guide walked with unnatural 
serenity and Charles followed. He felt panic 
filling him at the tight corridor that twisted 
back and forth. He wanted to shrink away from the 
enclosing walls, slick with fungi whose 
incongruous yellow and blue glow made portions of 
his guide's cloak glimmer while dimming others to invisibility.

After several twists and turns so that Charles 
lost all sense of direction, the passage opened 
out onto a sloping hillside covered once more in 
forest. To his right the ground continued to fall 
away at a measured pace, while on his left it 
climbed up against a promontory towering behind 
them. The trees here still had some of their 
leaves, but they were all sickly brown and 
crumpled to the point that Charles could not 
identify what sort of tree they might be. Beech, 
alder, oak, maple, walnut, it was impossible to 
tell. Not even the bark seemed wholly familiar, 
though with the profusion of mushrooms and other 
slimes clinging to their trunks he had no 
intention of touching them to be sure.

The stone still sheltered them on two sides in a 
quasi-alcove and it was there that the figure 
half turned and with one hand bid him wait. 
Charles felt relieved to be out of the passage 
and took a few more steps to put a little 
distance between him and the black hole behind 
him before obeying the command. His benefactor 
lifted his other arm high above his head, 
spreading his fingers as if he were strumming 
gossamer threads, while he cast his eyes in every direction.

Half-a-minute later the tall figure turned toward 
Charles and with kindly eyes and long-fingered 
hands bent down and ever so gently grasped the 
soft fur on his cheeks. He applied a slight 
pressure to the rat's cheekbones, forcing him to 
tilt his head downward. Charles blinked but 
allowed his guide move him, too frightened to do 
anything but obey. The pearl gray-skinned figure 
bent so that his tall forehead rested against the 
broad dome of Charles' head between his 
saucer-shaped ears. And then a glimmer as of a 
tiny pinprick pushed between his thoughts as he 
heard a comforting voice without his ears.

It is not safe to speak aloud in this place. For 
a moment we may speak with our minds. How came 
you to this place, Charles Matthias, for you are 
not dead of flesh, nor is your soul bound to this wood for consumption?

Charles blinked for a moment, but then closed his 
eyes and concentrated on thinking clear words.

I have crossed over from Nocturna's realm in 
search of my son who was stolen from me. How have 
you come to be here, Qan-af-årael?

He could feel the corner's of his benefactor's lips lift in amusement.

My presence here should not be a surprise. I died 
and my being has come to rest in the Dreamlands. 
It is the place of repose for all virtuous souls 
both of my kind and of yours except for those 
who, as you do, follow the ways of Eli. They are 
taken beyond these demesnes and not even the 
Daedra lords know where they have gone.

Qan-af-årael's thoughts were silent, and the 
needle-like presence in his mind withdrew for a 
moment as if he were considering something. And 
then he felt the surge of power gently intrude again.

What happened to your son?

A cruel malady killed him in my absence. I go to 
reclaim him if possible and to say goodbye if not.

To reclaim a soul is very difficult indeed. Be 
careful in what you wish, especially in this 
place. You are not safe here, but if you seek a 
soul that has gone beyond, you have little choice.

The presence withdrew and Qan-af-årael lifted his 
head from the rat's own, casting a furtive glance 
at the surrounding trees. His eyes glimmered with 
a spectral radiance in the febrile illumination. 
Even in the heart of Marzac in the Chamber of 
Unearthly Light Charles had never seen the 
ancient Åelf appear frightened. He had faced the 
Marquis and his deck of cards with equanimity 
even though it had bled him of his very life. A 
serene peace always surrounded him. But for one 
brief moment in that gaze, something disturbed 
that peace, some awareness of a danger greater 
than that which they'd contended against in the bowels of Jagoduun.

For a moment, Charles regretted his request of 
Malger. But then he steeled himself and favored the Åelf with a curious gaze.

When Qan-af-årael returned his stare he bore the 
mask that cloaked his thoughts and feelings yet 
exuded a simple confidence in the order of all 
things. He motioned for Charles to follow him 
once more and together they left the sheltering 
alcove behind, driving straight across the 
sloping ground, working their way beneath the 
canopy of trees. The rustle of dead leaves 
rubbing together as a wind drifted through the 
upper branches covered what little sound their 
steps made, but still the rat feared that the 
pounding of his heart would draw every beast in a 
mile to them. The rock wall and promontory behind 
them quickly disappeared in the gloom and one 
again all he could see about him was the endless and seemingly dead forest.

After they had walked for several minutes he 
heard a soft crunching behind them. It was some 
distance yet, but it was clearly not of the same 
character as the rustling leaves or rattling 
branches. The footfalls sounded heavy and 
deliberate, the strides large, but it did not 
seem to bring with it a crashing of wood as the 
four-armed monstrosity he witnessed by the towers 
and cairn had caused. Charles glanced behind him 
but the wood gave no sign other than that sound 
which came every few seconds. The wind stopped 
and all else became still around them yet the 
soft crunching continued to follow.

Qan-af-årael guided them down the slope a short 
distance until they could hear the babbling of a 
shallow brook cutting through the hillside. Frame 
on one side by a line of low rocks, the stream 
wound a jagged course downhill. Strange little 
flowers with drooping petals lined the other 
bank. Qan-af-årael put a gentle hand on his 
shoulder and gestured to the flowers with his 
other hand. His expression was grave and full of 
warning. Charles nodded in understanding, 
glancing down at his legs to beware his step.

They followed the brook for a few minutes before 
the line of flowers with their tear-drop shaped 
petals which glistened in the watery spray with a 
faintly luminous purple glow broke for a stretch 
of slick rock. Across this his benefactor 
stepped, his gait so light that his soft boot did 
not even break the surface of the water. Charles 
followed him and winced as he felt a burning 
sensation on the bottom of his toes.

Once they were across and nestled against a 
series of upthrust stones where were being 
crushed within the grip of tree roots, 
Qan-af-årael bid him recline. Charles, his toes 
curled in pain, ground his incisors together and 
tightened his claws into his sleeves to keep from 
crying out. He felt as if hot coals were being 
dragged across his toes. Tears pressed at the sides of his eyes.

But the Åelf moved his lips without speaking, and 
gently touched each of his toes in turn. With 
that touch the pain went away and he felt whole 
again. Charles took a deep breath and let the 
tension ease from his hands and legs, smiling in 
thanks to the Åelf before pushing himself off the rocks to follow behind again.

A heavy whump sounded from behind them, and then 
a faint cascade of water like a rock plunged in a 
lake. The Åelf glanced back once, and then 
beckoned for the rat to move faster. Charles did 
not bother to look, but slipped one hand into his 
tunic to grab his Sondeshike as he chased after 
the slender man as they fought to slink through 
the wood, ever descending through the folds of 
the land. The slope grew steeper as they went, 
and the sound of the creek turned from babbling 
to splashing as the creek ran through a series of 
falls and pools, swelling with each passing foot. 
Still whatever followed them gained, until 
Charles felt it was right behind him. Little 
gusts of warm air shot across the tops of his ears.

And then the ground fell away from them and they 
were striding into the open air. Charles flailed 
his arms as their cloaks spread wide, the feet 
tumbling past invisibly. Something screamed above 
them, a deep throaty roar filled with fury. And 
then he gasped as they crashed into the trunk of 
a tree, the landing smashing the wind from his 
chest while his arms scrambled to grab onto 
something, anything. He felt as if he was going 
to fall backward into an abyss, his eyes seeing 
nothing while his ears reverberated with that 
ravenous growling roar. His tail wrapped about 
the limb beneath him, his toes claws scrambled to 
dig into the bark, and his eyes searched for some 
sign of the Åelf, all the while his heart and 
lungs ached beneath the bruised cage of his ribs.

I am here.

To his surprise he felt the comforting presence 
of the Åelf intrude on his thoughts with the 
subtlety of a cat slipping beneath a tapestry. 
His panicked breathing slowed and he realized 
that not only were they secure on a large branch, 
but that Qan-af-årael was covering him with his 
cloak, hiding them from whatever beast they 
narrowly escaped. He could feel the tall forehead 
pressed into the fur of his brow, and he relaxed. 
Only the bruising of his chest where he landed still ached.

Are we safe?

We are never safe here, came the reply. But the 
creature will not follow us down.

Where are we?

Lilith's demesnes. What the race of man deems the second Hell.

Charles pondered that for a moment. When faced 
with Nocturna herself all he could do was buy 
time while a bridge was established. He had never 
considered where the bridge would take him except 
closer to his son. And that had led him now to 
Lilith's realm? He had heard dreadful tales of 
the Daedra queen of vampires and all dark places 
and foul creatures of the deepest wild. Were the 
horrors he'd already seen and felt her creatures? 
But how had his friend and fellow Long Scout 
Craig Latoner come to be in this place?

The Keeper we saw, Craig, he was a friend. Why is he in this place?

Good souls who have done some ill will struggle 
here for as long as they remain.

Good souls must face this?

And some worse. Qan-af-årael shifted above him 
but the connection remained. An immortal soul can 
face dangers mortal flesh cannot.

Is that why you are here?

I am here because I saw a great bridge plunging 
into a deep and bottomless chasm through the 
Dreamlands. I saw my friend, my companion, and 
the dear one who had announced my departure from 
Ava-shavåis crossing that bridge into the 
darkness. I followed because I knew you were not 
dead, curious, and concerned. You should not be here, Charles.

The rat frowned and took a deep breath, the pain 
in his chest less. I cannot leave until I have found my son.

He will be beyond all of the hells. Your faith in 
Eli tells you that he is in a greater paradise 
than can be imagined. Perhaps it is better to 
abandon your search before some other terror 
comes to destroy you. There will be no rest for 
your soul if you die here, Charles.

The thought of one of those four-armed freaks 
slowly squeezing its fangs through his flesh send 
shudders up his spine and down his tail. But with 
a shuddering sigh he gave his head the slightest 
of shakes. I must at least try to find him. Please.

His benefactor was quiet for a long time, the 
presence withdrawn. Charles felt barren and 
exposed despite their concealment. He felt 
something brushing against his tail but it was 
only his own cloak. He quivered but steeled 
himself, forcing his breath to come slowly, his heart to beat without racing.

Charles, you are in great danger here. I will 
help protect you and help you find your way. But 
we have lingered here too long. Come.

Qan-af-årael slipped from over top of him and 
with the cloak what little light existed in 
Lilith's domain returned to the rat's eyes. Above 
him he could see the edge of a cliff above from 
whence they must have leaped, and the wide 
branches of large trees stretching ever upward 
and on all sides. The stone wall continued 
downward beyond where his eyes could penetrate. 
He could not even see the main trunk of the tree 
on which they rested, so large and wide were the 
branches. And down that branch the Åelf walked as 
if it were no more than any other track through 
the forest. Charles climbed to his paws and 
followed after him, grateful for his Sondecki training in balance.

The branch stayed mostly even as it twisted its 
way through the tangle of smaller branches and 
creepers strewn throughout. Charles could not see 
the ground below, nor the sky above, nor anything 
but more branches in any direction he looked. All 
that he could see was the pale shadow of 
Qan-af-årael's back which he followed without 
murmur or complaint. His guide followed their 
branch for several minutes before stopping, 
kneeling, and sliding down to another wide branch 
a few feet below that cut across at a right 
angle. He waited there until the rat dangled 
himself off the first branch. His feet hung in 
the empty air as his claws dug into the bark, 
kicking around to find the ground before Åelven 
hands grasped him about the waist and eased him down.

Four times more they scrambled to a lower branch 
and each time the distance between branches was 
just high enough that the rat had to be helped 
down. His focus remained on everything around 
him, eyes straining to pierce the darkness, ears 
turned to hear the slightest catch of breath in 
the air, nostrils stretching to test each odor, 
whiskers alert for the slightest twitch. But 
until they climbed down their fifth branch there had been nothing.

It started as a subtle tickling in his nose. He 
rubbed his snout with one hand, blinking as he 
followed down the branch which was slightly 
lop-sided. In a few places he had to crouch to 
keep his balance, as did the Åelf, and this left 
them vulnerable. In one such spot he realized 
what it was he had begun to smell, and with a 
start he scrambled along the branch until he 
could swing his tail around and strike his guide 
in the side. Qan-af-årael turned his head in 
surprise, and then his deep eyes narrowed and 
fixed on some point in the gloom the rat couldn't see.

The same sickly sweetness he'd noted along the 
stream had returned. Charles turned his nose to 
follow the scent, and while the Åelf glanced 
upward, his whiskers pulled his snout downward.

 From out of the deep black below them lunged a 
toothsome maw, long and narrow, that lunged and 
snapped at the branch beneath their feet. Charles 
jumped toward his guide, pushing him out of the 
way as the jaws snapped and tore jagged gouges 
out of the wood. A second eyeless maw balked them 
both when it hove from the shadows below to tear 
at the branch a few paces ahead.

“Run!” Charles hissed between his incisors, 
pushing the Åelf along the branch, even as thick 
teeth sawed back and forth, splintering the wood 
and making the branch wobble. He felt his tail 
tip bump the end of the thing's snout as he ran 
past, and felt a sickening heat there as if he'd 
dabbed it with a fuller's lye. The first jaw 
disengaged and shifted as they could hear the 
heavy tread of feet now incautiously rushed 
somewhere below them. Even through the 
impenetrable gloom, the ground could not be too 
far below them, but with that thing down there it 
was the last place they wanted to be.

The branch angled upward after twenty paces, for 
a moment putting them out of reach of the 
snarling beast below. A third and fourth set of 
jaws snapped at them, moving to cut them off 
where the branch dipped back down. Qan-af-årael 
pointed at another branch ten feet above them and 
then lowered his hands. Charles understood his 
meaning and stepped on the Åelf's hands, his own 
holding his shoulders for a moment as he steadied 
himself. Despite his frail and ancient 
appearance, the Åelf had no difficulty hoisting 
the rat over his head so that he was almost within reach of the branch above.

Charles stretched his claws toward the wood but 
could not get a grip. He nearly buckled when the 
branch beneath them jarred. The monster was 
tearing at the branch in a freakish rage, chewing 
gouges loose and spitting them out. In another 
minute the branch would break completely and they 
would quickly follow the splinters into the 
cavernous maws. Charles lifted his paws as much 
as he could, standing on the very tips of his 
toes, short, sharp claws, digging into the flesh 
beneath them, as he strained to grasp the branch above.

After several tense seconds in which he could 
scrape the bark his claws found purchase in a 
crevice. He poured his Sondeck into his arm and 
pulled himself upward. He dangled in the air for 
several seconds, grunting as he searched the bark 
above him for any other purchase. He scratched 
and scratched, chest aching, and then found 
another crevice. Paw over paw he pulled himself 
up, even as his benefactor waited below on the cracking limb.

He crested the top of the branch and turned, 
bracing his legs with the Sondeck at the other 
side, he bent his front half down an extended his 
Sondeshike. He lowered the weapon as far as he 
could, waving the tip in little circles above 
Qan-af-årael's head. The Åelf wrapped his hands 
about it and Charles pulled him up. The branch 
cracked and groaned before disappearing with a 
thunderous crash. The sound, after so much 
silence, felt like an earthquake in his ears. It 
took all his self-control to keep lifting the Sondeshike.

But the moment passed and he helped the Åelf 
climb atop the branch. Charles started to stand 
when the Åelf grabbed his shoulder and pulled him 
back down. Something brushed over his back as it 
hurtled past. And then a second something jabbed 
at him as it followed the first something. Six 
others followed, each of them clawing at his or 
the Åelf's back on their way down. Charles winced 
at each touch, but none of them felt deep enough 
to pierce his clothes let alone his hide. He tentatively looked up and sniffed.

The sickeningly sweet aroma saturated the air, 
but with it now was something sharper and 
altogether unpleasant. He felt nauseated by the 
combination, but there was no further sign of 
what passed overhead. Only the furious raging of 
the beast below as it snapped with its jaws at 
the branches within reach. Charles tentatively 
rouse to a crouch. His benefactor nodded and did 
the same. The two of them moved as quietly and as 
quickly as possible along the new branch.

They made it not more than thirty paces before 
that melliferous odor returned with such strength 
that the rat nearly gagged. A huge maw, long with 
a hundred fangs per side, thrust up from the 
obnubilated depths. It was attached to a snaking 
neck whose rubbery flesh shimmered with a slimy 
sheen. The maw had no eyes, only the mouth with 
fangs, and a gaping maw with no tongue so that it 
was impossible to tell which was the top and 
bottom side. It curled itself around the branch, 
and snapped at them as it held fast. The branch 
shook, knocking them from their feet even as a 
second head and tentacle-neck secured the other end.

Charles grabbed the Åelf by the ankle to keep him 
from tumbling over the side, and then swung his 
Sondeshike at the nearer of the two heads. The 
jaws snapped shut inches from him, and then 
cracked when the full force of his Sondeck caved 
in the side of the maw. A vile white mucus 
splattered everywhere and stung his left eye. 
Charles took a step back, claws grasping the 
branch beneath him for support as he tried to rub the ichor from his face.

And then he heard the beast roar from every 
direction as he felt other figures join them on 
the branch. He blinked with his good eye and 
marveled as the pelt-wearing humans from before 
beat back the monster with careful jabs and 
furious swings of their stone weapons. Amongst 
them he saw attacking from a lower branch his 
friend and fellow Long Scout Craig Latoner. The 
prairie dog was especially vicious as he drove 
his axe deep into one of the creature's necks. 
The white mucus fountained but did not seem to touch him.

Charles felt another hand press a small cloth to 
his face. He trembled but stilled when he 
realized that they were clearing his left cheek 
and eye of the horrible slime. He blinked his 
left eye but everything seemed blurred and so he 
closed it again. The figure that he could not 
make out pushed him further along the branch, and 
soon all of them were running down the wooden 
path faster than he would have dared with only one clear eye.

They only dropped branches twice before they were 
finally on the ground rushing through massive 
roots and towering sentinels that dwarfed the 
mighty redwoods of Glen Avery. Charles felt 
immeasurably small next to those titans. Amongst 
those running he could see Qan-af-årael as a 
shaft of white light in front of him, while the 
humans were various shades popping in and out of 
the surrounding darkness. To his right he noticed 
Craig grinning to him with a devious glint in his incisors.

Charles wasn't sure when exactly it happened, but 
as they navigated their way between the maze of 
roots standing twice their heights they vanished 
underground into halls of earth and stone. Roots 
now framed the ceiling of narrow passages. Within 
he could only smell humans and few beastly scents 
more like those he knew from Metamor. Craig fell 
a few steps behind him but still they ran. His 
legs felt sore and he could not help but wonder how far they still had to go.

The answer came suddenly and after a dizzying set 
of twists and turns in the passage that nearly 
had him run into the wall on three occasions. The 
passage opened up into a warren of little holes 
amidst bridges and ladders with blue flaming 
lights hanging from the roof of the cavern. 
Charles blinked both eyes and held up an arm to 
shield them at the sudden comparable brilliance. 
He felt Craig's paw on his shoulder and he let 
himself be led along one of those paths hugging 
the exterior of the cavern. Both he and 
Qan-af-årael found themselves in a small hole 
with a few pallets of crushed leaves and 
feathers, with rough-hewn blankets and small blue 
lights that did not seem to either burn or give off heat.

Craig motioned for them both to sit down, and 
then he offered a chittering laugh. “What are you 
doing here, Charles? Not only are you a Follower 
but you aren't even dead! We can all see it. And 
aye, it is safe to speak here.”

“Craig!,” Charles gasped, wincing at the sullen 
pain in the left side of his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I died!” The prairie dog laughed again. 
“Don't worry about the slime on your face. 
Somebody is bringing something to clean that off. 
The pain will go away and you'll see clearly in a 
moment.” In a quieter voice, one that did not 
hurt their sensitive ears as much, he added, “You are lucky we found you.”

“What was that thing?” Charles asked, his throat raw from keeping silent.

“Who knows. Some experiment of the night 
mistress. We don't say her name here as we do not 
want her attention. You should not say it either.”

He nodded. “I won't.”

Another pair of humans came into the small wood 
and stone framed room carrying a ewer and bowl. 
Craig said nothing as they dipped a little bit of 
cloth in the bowl and gently cleaned the rat's 
face. Charles felt the sting of the mucus lessen 
with each swipe. It took them a few minutes to 
finish, but when they did he blinked his left eye 
and found the blurriness gone. He glanced at 
Qan-af-årael who reclined on one of the pallets 
with the same reserved and distant grace he had 
always possessed, and then returned his regard to 
Craig his fellow Long Scout. There was a subtle 
luminous quality to his appearance, as if he weren't wholly solid.

“Thank you,” Charles said with a smile. The two 
humans smiled at him, then to Craig, and quickly 
departed, leaving the three of them alone.

“What happened to your face?” Craig asked, pointing to the rat's right side.

Charles lifted one paw and traced along the edge 
of the ruined, black scar and the fur that 
stopped just beneath it. He could not feel 
anything through that charred skin, but the fur 
trembled at his touch. “I was struck by a 
Shrieker. A single brief touch was all it took to 
melt my flesh; only magic saved my eye. But the 
Shierkers were destroyed and I survived.”

Craig crossed his arms. “I can see that. You 
aren't dead, Charles, and you,” he turned toward 
Qan-af-årael and stared at him as if trying to 
pierce the deeps of a clouded lake. “You don't 
belong here either, but I cannot see why.”

“He was in the Dreamlands and followed me here,” 
Charles noted. “His name is Qan-af-årael and he 
is a dear friend. He's promised to help protect me on my way.”

Craig favored him a skeptical glance, one he knew 
from his days testing for the Long Scouts. “And 
what are you doing here, Charles? No living soul 
comes here of its own choice without dire need. 
And certainly I have heard of none in the memories of any here in this place.”

“I am here trying to find my son who was stolen 
from me. I am not going to give up just because of strange monsters here.”

“Stolen?” Craig's brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He died while I was fighting a terrible evil far 
away and the aedra would not help him. I have to... see him one last time.”

Craig shook his head. “I am dead, Charles. I hope 
never to see any of the living again until their 
years have run out and they come to this place, 
or we all meet again in the place Beyond. I am 
sorry for what happened to your son but you 
should wait until your time has come.” He blinked 
and then smiled a little. “When did you have a 
family? You weren't even married when I – left,” 
he finished after a weighted pause.

“It was the year after you died. I am going to 
seek him out, Craig. Please don't try to stop me. 
But, he is not here and would not be in any place the daedra hold sway.”

“He is Beyond,” Qan-af-årael said in a quiet 
voice, one full of mystery. Craig's fur appeared 
to shudder at the sound, the first uttered by the 
Åelf in the nightmare darkness. “We must go beyond to find him.”

“There are only two ways I know to go beyond. You 
either let yourself be torn limb from limb by one 
of those monsters out there, or you let your 
blood be drained on one of the night mistress's 
altars. Either one is horrible and we do our best 
to make sure we do not end that way.”

“The altars?”

Craig favored the rat with a grin so wide both 
sets of incisors were visible. “You were there. I 
smelled you hiding behind one of the towers. 
Where her pups tried to cut Beth's throat and 
drain all her blood. Anything taken there feeds 
the mistress directly. We'd all rather be eaten 
by one of those monsters than end up a sacrifice like that.”

He unfolded his arms but clasped one wrist in his 
hand at his waist. His large rounded snout 
frowned, dark eyes lowering. “Beth is going to be 
all right. If you aren't torn to pieces or eaten 
you always heal here. Martin... well, he is gone 
now from this plane. Either Beyond, or elsewhere 
still. I assume you do not wish to follow him 
like that.” One corner of his muzzle drew up in a 
rueful, mirthless half-grin. “To be bled for Her 
sustenance destroys the spirit; there is no 
Beyond. To pass as poor Martin did – we do not 
know the fate of such passing, but even if he did 
pass Beyond it cannot be to the bright paradise 
of absolution we all hope for in the final end. 
It's a fate best avoided, especially for a Living soul, like you.”

“There is another way,” Qan-af-årael said with slow, careful tones.

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias
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