“Why do I fear you’re going to be disappointed.” Rath folded his arms across his chest, looking down at me as I sat on the mossy boulder.

“You’d do best to tell me yourself,” I replied, then winced as I felt a twinge in my damaged elbow. “What’s going to be the result?”

“I can’t.” The diviner clenched a fist. “I just…”

“You’re really worried, aren’t you?” Tem asked suddenly, coming up behind Rath with a little malice twinkling in his eyes.

The diviner sighed. “You do realise that the futures in which you –“

“Keep annoying you end in my death…” Temcar smiled nervously at him, then looked at me. “Is threatening to kill you the way he tries to make friends?”

I laughed. “Did you get that from my head? Five, man, that’s not far off it, really…”

“Kas.”

I smiled at Rathal. “What? You want me to go ahead, all of a sudden, do you?”

He sighed again.

“Sorry. Okay, okay. Here goes.”

I waved my hand and panicked.

Red fire flickered, but no imp reached through for my grasp.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening…”

Rath just grunted.

“How is – how could this be –” I vomited the words. Beads of sweat almost instantly sprang out on my brow –

I can feel it! I can feel the power! What is…?

Had I somehow lost it again? Had I lost control?

I dismissed the flame and brought up the green waves of a portal back to Materium – but the opening wouldn’t accept me when I moved it over my arm; its substance was like jelly, non-responsive, unchanging. So I dispelled it and, quivering, raised a blue circle –

The shape went shuddering into being, coming together hardly any slower than when I was in peak condition.

There was nothing wrong with me, and yet –

“My dear companions!”

The male voice was somewhat childlike; jovial in tone, friendly… Overly so. It came from every direction, loud and echoing, speaking in a very natural Mundic accent.

I could tell it was no child. I could tell Mundic was not its native tongue.

The hair raised on the back of my neck, and I looked at the others. The diviner was glaring at the enchanter, whose own eyes wandered about the stone walls. Zabalam leapt at Avaelar’s leg in fright, and the sylph kicked the gremlin off, irritation on the flawless face.

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“My dear companions, it has amused me to watch you climb, listen to your lovely chatter! How delightful each of you are! You especially, Rathal Overlorn. Now now, don’t get mad – I can read your mind, that’s all.”

I saw Rath’s eyes narrow on Temcar.

“It’s not him. Haha! Do you think he’d be so stupid? He’s smarter than he looks.”

The enchanter didn’t look particularly pleased to be complimented by the ethereal voice – his eyes were wide-open and he seemed more scared of our rocky surroundings than the arch-diviner threatening him with instantaneous death. As Rath looked at him with violence in mind, the Sticktowner was backing towards Rath for protection. He hadn’t understood the context at all.

“No, Rathal. What tickles me the most is the enchantment placed on your mind. What was her name? Ah, Alandrica! Did you know what she put under your skin? Oh – oh my. It’s still there! You know the accident wasn’t your uncle, don’t you? You know what really happened to dear little Ruthi?”

“Don’t listen, Rath,” I grated. Inside my mind, even the quite ordinary danger-sense possessed by all mortals was blaring, signal-fires racing, compelling me to change the topic immediately. “What do you want?” I cried out, spinning around, looking for someone, anything to direct my words at. “Why are you watching us, and why are you stopping me open my gateways?”

“Did you think escape from… ‘Magicrux Zyger’ would be so simple, young sorcerer? Hahahahahaha!”

He was properly laughing. Whoever he was, he was truly delighted.

I looked at my eldritches, but they looked just as bewildered as the rest of us.

“But I’m in Etherium!” I yelled back at the voice. “We are here! I felt it, I can feel the power… I can see the…”

I can see the shields… but is that because he wants me to?

No. That can’t be what he means. He reacted when I raised the shields. He can’t get in like that…

The youthful, disembodied voice seemed to share my scepticism.

“I don’t want to control you. I want to watch you. The way I see it, you’ve got three choices now. You can either open a portal back to Infernum for this dastardly plane-walking trio – I’ll let you go back and face the big guy, if you want to… Or you can test your luck in Nethernum – I wish your souls well, I really do.”

“And for the third?” I called, still looking off at one of the most-distant walls, trying to avoid Rath’s contorted face and withering gaze.

“Why, stay here with me, of course! There’s better food and drink here than in either of those two sorry places, believe me. And I’m by far the kindest guardian of the ways.”

“Guardian of the ways?”

“Oh, come on, find an eldritch that gives you some imagination powers already! We prevent unauthorised access to and fro in these places. You’ll find no one more devoted to the task than I.”

I mulled it over. Unauthorised… access… Then what about the mizelikon?

“I can’t answer that one for you, but I can guess, if you want.”

“Huh?” Tem muttered.

“I… I wondered how the mizelikon… the shadow-demon whose power let us get free… how it got into Zyger if the other planes are being watched –“

“You did indeed. Do you want to know my suspicion? It’s rather funny, really.”

I wanted to shrug, remain nonchalant, but I was genuinely curious.

“Go on, then.”

“Haha! How long do you fancy your ‘Inceryad’ has been there, being used like this?”

How… long…

The question itself didn’t matter. It was the insinuation beneath.

It was just like the Magisterium. They never gave up, their infinite immoral ineptitudes.

“A long time?” Temcar muttered.

I met the enchanter’s eyes. “He means they’ve forgotten him.”

“Yes! Do you think your current crop of ‘magisters’ know I’m here? Oh no – I doubt they even know eldritches can enter this Zyger place through the cracks below the wards. Zyger… Zyger… Funny word. Anyway, they certainly don’t know there’s a spirit bound to the place, as its sentinel! No, I’m afraid you’re my first visitors in what you’d call seven hundred years.”

* * *