seymoure

Bonds

None of the soldiers even detected the small movement of a single finger on Meri-am’s hand.

“Don’t do anything!” the largest of the armored men announced with every assurance that that was all that would need to be said.

Meri-am made a second move, this time with the thumb of her other hand, this one they might have noticed, but dismissed as a twitch of one who was cowed by the might of their presence.

In response to her gesture the hand above their heads became solid and movied upward in the air. It moved over the heads of the stunned soldiers. Then it slapped down on the guardians of the Temple. Another gesture and the hand slapped the pile of unconscious men again and opened a path through them for the trio of interlopers to pass.

Just past the soldiers Bizjon whispered back at the sorceress, “Where do we go now?”

She signed, “I don’t know! I used up the magic to rid us of the danger!”

“This way,” Antac said. The Archer gestured to let the Wizardess know where they were going.

After a few steps even the small bowman could hear the splashing that had drawn his blind friend.

They came to a doorway, through which they found a room filled with naked women playing in a pool.

“My, my!” the little man cooed as he saw the lovely young females.

“He’s gone!” one of them, a bit older, said to them. She had the look of one who was used to being in charge, and unused to repeating herself, “He left just a mere moment ago.”

“Then he’s and idiot,” Bizjon declared.

“A goose?” Antac’s head snapped in a different direction.

“He took Tiko with him,” the woman said.

“Then we shall find Tiko,” the swordsman told them as he turned in the direction of the distant honking.

The trio (with a reluctant archer the last to leave) rushed to find their friend.

When they did so, it was to look down from an upper tier to find he had encountered more soldiers.

“I thought you finished them!” Bizjon complained.

“I’m sure they have a lot. Soldiers are like cookies, there are always more coming out of the oven.” Antac muttered as he wondered how they could have ended up in such a different location than their comrade.

As Grath was surrounded everyone felt an answer to the blind man’s question.

The walls moved like molasses dripping down the sides of a jar, while the floor buckled slowly and rippled in the middle.

Grath dropped the cage and it burst, allowing the goose to fly confusedly around the room.

“What is happening?” Antac demanded.

“I wish I could tell you,” Bizjon said as he gripped the banister and tried to steady his friend with his other hand, “But I know there is big magick being done here.”

“I hate magick! But don’t tell Meri-am!” Antac declared.

The floor beneath their large comrade had become something like a dias as the priests marched out, chanting, “Vasashem, Gasengem, Shistal lak Chizian! Vasashem, Gasengem, Shistal lak Chizian! Vasashem, Gasengem, Shistal lak Chizian!”

Each time they spoke it became more insistent, more lascivious.

Grath found it hard to stand. The ground beneath his feet became as the water of the pool had been, but there was no bottom on which he could gain purchase.

The Priest they had heard called Diphenal raised a massive golden blade over the head of Grath.

Beyond them a swirling circle opened, like the mouth of a tornado, and spewed out an immaterial vision. It was a behemoth of a serpent being ridden by something almost a woman. She had the scales of a snake, and hair that looked like tiny vipers wiggling on her head. Her eyes had the look of at once a mad person, and one that saw its first meal in a long time.

The insubstantial thing waited at the edge of the vortex, looking with glee at the tableau created by the priest and their intended victim.

Meri-am signed, “That must be Shistal and if we don’t do something to stop her, she’s coming into our world and nothing will stop her after that!”