Alora: The Portal (Alora 2)

Alora sought out Wesley’s mom, pulling her to the side, away from the jovial conversation about possible grandma and grandpa names.

“Karen, I think maybe Daegreth needs to go to the restroom. I mean, I don’t know, but he definitely looks uncomfortable. I figured you guys had some safe system worked out.”

Karen screwed her mouth to the side. “Brian usually just cuts him loose and guards him with his gun and then ties him back up. I think it’s ridiculous. Daegreth would never hurt us, and I can’t believe Brian would actually be able to shoot him anyway. I think he just holds the gun to make Daegreth feel better about it.”

“Well, if Vindrake’s bond were working, Daegreth really would be dangerous. I don’t think you understand how powerful my father is.”

Alora followed Karen into the kitchen. Rummaging through a drawer, Karen snatched out a pair of scissors and waved them in front of Alora.

“Got ‘em. I’ll go ask Daegreth if he needs to go, and offer to cut him loose for a minute. If he refuses, I’ll wait until Brian has time to stand there with his gun in hand.”

Karen marched toward Daegreth’s chair, arriving just as he spilled the contents of his stomach on the floor beside him. “Oh, Daegreth, I’m so sorry.” Karen spoke in a soothing tone, feeling his head with the back of her hand.

Alora hurried to tug on Brian’s sleeve. “Daegreth is sick. Your wife is cutting him loose so he can go to the bathroom. I guess you need your gun, right?”

Brian’s heavy sigh confirmed his lack of enthusiasm, but he drew his weapon and joined his wife as she finished snipping the zip ties around Daegreth’s ankles.

“This is silly,” Brian grumbled to no one in particular. “The poor boy is sick. He needs a doctor not a gun pointed at him.”

Karen cut the zip tie from his left wrist, gingerly stepping over the splattered mess on the wood floor. “If we’d known you were sick, we wouldn’t have kept you tied up like this. Do you want to go use the bathroom and then go lie down in your bedroom?”

“Yes, please.” He forced out the two words as if a great effort were involved in speaking.

*****

Vindrake could see only Ferrister’s oddly disembodied head peering out from inside the portal. Then his hand snaked out, guiding Vindrake into the portal opening. Slipping on the dry tunic, Vindrake was glad he’d carried it above the pool of water. At least part of my clothing won’t be sopping wet and sticking to my skin.

The inside of the portal was rectangular, tall and narrow, and the tunnel stretched a short distance before curving to the left. Though Vindrake couldn’t quite reach the ceiling, he could easily touch both the smooth, cool passage walls at once. No visible light source explained the shadowless glow of light throughout the portal.

An ornately carved wooden door covered the portal entrance. Experimentally, he pushed on the handle, and the door swung open, once again revealing the cavernous bathing room. Though the bottom of the opening lay several fingers below water level, the water didn’t spill inside the portal. Tugging the door closed, he turned to Ferrister, who waited in silence.

“I’m surprised to find a door with intricate carvings inside the portal,” Vindrake remarked as he donned his boots. “Seems a waste when few will ever appreciate the workmanship.”

Ferrister made a raspy sound, followed by a fit of coughing. “Is that what you see, Master Vindrake? I only see a plain wood door.”

Vindrake wondered at Ferrister’s reply but refused to query him, unwilling to admit the old man had knowledge of which he was unaware. Without another word, Ferrister turned, leading the way down the narrow curving hallway.

“Have you been inside a portal before?” Vindrake couldn’t hide his curiosity. He’d never before considered the possibility of other realms… realms that could hold endless resources for Water Clan.

“Y-yes, Sire. I… I…” Ferrister gave a little cough. “I’ve been inside a portal once as a child, but it led to a mountain cliff, covered with ice and snow.” Ferrister trudged with shuffling steps, forcing Vindrake to shorten his stride.

“Let me lead the way.” Vindrake shoved Ferrister to the side, treading quickly down the winding passageway while Ferrister struggled to keep up.

As they walked, the ceiling dropped lower and the tunnel narrowed. Vindrake felt his heart speed up as beads of sweat rolled down his neck, despite the chill in the air. The sides closed in until he wondered if the walls might entrap him.

“We should have reached the end of the portal by now,” Vindrake muttered.

Vindrake’s face slammed into something hard, stopping his progress. He screamed in pain, reaching for his cracked nose, when Ferrister crashed into his back and knocked him against the wooden door again. Vindrake yelled out a stream of curses.

“You fool!”

“Forgive me, Sire!” Ferrister dropped to his knees. “I didn’t realize we’d reached the end.”

“Never mind.” Vindrake palpated his tender nose. “Just open the door. At once.”

“Yes, Sire.” Ferrister pushed on the heavy wooden door, opening up to a field of white. “I fear this world is frozen, much like the one I saw as a child. It may very well be that no one can live here.” He grasped the handle to close the portal door.

“Nonsense! It’s perfectly safe.” Vindrake placed his boot on Ferrister’s rear end and gave him a firm shove. With a wobbly cry, Ferrister tumbled out, flopping into the snow.