“They won’t harm us,” Art says. “This is a perfectly balanced world. Nothing would attack anything that it was not, by nature, designed to prey upon.”
As he says that, a sea snake the size of a redwood tree passes beneath us. It raises its huge head and studies us. I feel like I’m going to be its lunch. But then it moves on, jaws opening and closing slowly, in search of other food.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter. “When can we leave?”
“Soon,” Art says. “First I must acknowledge the greeting of the natives.”
A ring of creatures closes around us. Each looks like a cross between a small whale and an octopus, large but graceful. Their many arms are adorned with shells and sea flowers, and intricate designs that might be tattoos. They swirl over, under, and around one another, as if dancing.
“They are dancing,” Art says. “They worship my kind and wish to perform in our honor. We have not passed through here in a long time. They are excited.”
“Why do they think so much of you?” I ask.
“We saved them from a demon attack long ago.”
“The Demonata cross to other worlds?” I frown.
“Of course,” Art says. “They hate all life-forms. You are not the first to suffer at their hands. And you won’t be the last. Far from it.”
Other creatures gather around us, joining the dance. Their movements become more involved, dozens of different species sweeping around one another, every blink of an eye or swish of a tail carefully choreographed. Through the crush I spot something weird rising from the depths.
“Is that a chessboard?” I ask. It’s much bigger than any board I’ve ever seen, but it’s the right shape, with the usual arrangement of black and white squares.
“There are Boards like this on almost all the worlds where we have had an influence,” Art says. “The Boards are central to the development of intelligence. Some species forget about them as they evolve, but most remember in one way or another.”
“I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about chess?”
“The game means nothing,” Art answers. “The Board is everything.”
Something about the way he stresses the word sparks a memory. I recall a visit I paid to Lord Loss’s kingdom several years ago. The demon master loves chess. One of the rooms in his web-based castle was full of sets. He produced a board that he referred to as the original Board. Each square was a self-contained universe of its own, filled with an array of demons.
“Yes,” Art says before I can form a question. “That was the Board we used on your world.”
“I still don’t understand,” I frown. “The Board was just a toy.”
“The Boards are not toys,” Art says. “Each is a map of the original universe, a link to the past before time.”
“You’re talking gibberish,” I scowl.
“It will become clear soon,” Art assures me, then pushes through a gap that the sea creatures have created. “Come. I am fully rested, and the dance has moved into its final arc. It is time for us to depart.”
TAKING TO THE SKIES
WE skip from one world to another, chamber to chamber, through the sub-universe of strange lights. I try to figure out how the windows are being opened, hoping to use the information to break free and make my way back home. But I don’t know how Art gets the panels to pulse and merge.
“Tell me about yourself,” I suggest, partly to break the monotony, partly to learn more about my mysterious guide.
“What do you wish to know?” he replies.
“Where are you from? Beranabus only said that the Old Creatures were beings of ancient, powerful magic, who left our world long ago.”
“We leave every planet eventually,” Art sighs. “We are nomads, moving from one world to another, never settling.”
“But you must have a home,” I press. “Everyone comes from somewhere.”
“Not us,” Art says. “We are of the original universe. We had no beginning.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I grunt.