14

By the time he had gotten to the lake, Andrew was still unsure of his reasoning for coming in the first place. Some errant thought had suggested the idea, and his rational mind that it was a much better alternative than staying in the Francis house for one second longer. When he stepped out of the bedroom, he immediately noticed that the oppressive darkness that once surrounded him had lightened; the house was still draped mostly in shadows, but there was less of a weight and presence within them. Descended the staircase, thoughts about the typewriter inexplicably falling to the ground arose in his mind. Could the cat have gotten in and tipped it over? No, it was surely too heavy. And what of the note? Who could have written that?

As soon as Andrew opened the front door, he was instantly bathed in the deep and pleasant orange light of the setting sun, and all the questions and thoughts that had been stirring in his mind melted away. Looking back into the sunlit entryway of the Francis home, he wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten him so spooked in the first place.

Now that he was at the lake, he felt a strong urge to walk up the dock and look out over the calm waters that shone in the burgeoning moonlight. The stars twinkled around the full moon as it quickly rose in the sky, held by some invisible cosmic thread; if Andrew were a man of the arts he might have felt inspired.

As he stared, he was faintly aware of a small pulsing sensation in his back pocket. The intensity of the pulse grew and was soon joined by a steadily rising warmth. Andrew reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, which was shaking in his hand and felt like he had just grabbed it off of a stovetop. Instinctively he reached into one of the tiny pockets and pulled out the two small shards of black metal he had found in Donald Francis’ cell and home. He replaced his wallet and focused on the strangely buzzing shards in his hand, baffled at their autonomous movement and sudden heat.

The shards writhed in his palm like disgusting insects before they completely stopped, and began to rise into the air above of Andrew. The buzzing had stopped and the shards had left his hand, but their warmth remained and continued to spread. The pieces of strange metal twirled around each other in a beautiful weightless fashion that almost looked like a dance. The sight drew his gaze upwards to the moon, which had descended and now appeared to be floating right above the lake itself; the moon’s curvature made it resemble a fish leaping triumphantly out of the water. The reflection of the stars in the water were magnificent, showing off twinkling details and colors the likes of which couldn’t be seen from the top of the world’s highest mountain peak.

With a growing sense of wonder Andrew soon realized that the water was not reflecting the sky above, but revealing the sky far beyond. He was confused as to how he knew this, but the surety he felt outweighed the need to question his own breadth of knowledge. The image was not static either, it appeared to be shifting through some incomprehensible direction into a dimension beyond thought. The officer was witness to many strange things as the image shifted and swirled through the cosmos: vast expanses of seemingly barren space that actually hid ancient tenebrous beings, grand cities of dark stone and glass with temples and mosques dedicated to these beings, creatures making journeys through dense space aided only by grotesque wings that helped them float through the aether. Andrew witnessed all of these things and more while standing under the breathtaking thrall of whatever entity had guided him here.

That was when he heard the gunshot.

The sound brought back his awareness of the world around him, and the inner warmth he had felt was now tinged with the sharp chill of forest air. Andrew spun to find the source of the noise, and sprinted down the pier when he saw the wounded officer collapse to the ground. He was still about ten feet from Dean when the sound of another bullet screeched through the air caused him to stop in his tracks. Andrew looked towards the source of the sound and saw an old man standing at the other end of the dock, aiming a gun in the air. He stared with incredulous disbelief at the man who appeared to be Rufus Cartwright.

The man lowered his gun, pointing it at Andrew, and said, “I would not take a step closer to him if I were you.” Andrew was speechless, unsure if he still remained in the reality he once believed he inhabited. “You appear to be deeply confused Mr. Whitman, as any rational person would be.”

“Rufus, what the fuck are you doing?! You just shot an officer, there’s not going to be any chance of escape for you. Put the gun down, and slowly come over to me, don’t be stupid.”

“I don’t think so Mr. Whitman, I have all of the leverage in this situation. Your friend is dead, I have you at gunpoint, and your own cohorts are soon to be after you. You are the one who should be obediently listening to me.” The old man looked behind Andrew at the cosmic expanse that spread out underneath the surface of the water. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The unknown infinite expanse of cosmos that lie just beyond our own, it's incredible to think about.”

Andrew was becoming increasingly aware that the man, the thing in front of him was not Rufus Cartwright. It had none of the same mannerisms or vocabulary, even his stance and posture were different than what would have normally been seen on the older man.

“I see the furrow in your brow officer. Allow me to enlighten you, for what is this meeting for if not enlightenment? You and many others have known me over the past decades to be Rufus Cartwright, drunken dolt and last progenitor of the Cartwright family name. Rufus, I always hated the name, though what better title for a backwoods town buffoon like that? Andrew, allow me to inform you that you have unknowingly been given the pleasure of meeting this very town’s founder, Wayne Augustus Cartwright,” He stuck out his right leg and bowed, “charmed I’m sure.”

If that were true, Andrew thought, that would make this man almost two hundred years old. Yet he had the appearance of one who was no more than seventy, and the sudden demeanor of one who is forty. What sort of dark secrets had Andrew stumbled upon? The events of the past twenty-four hours had taken him completely out of the world he once knew and dropped him into this surreal dreamlike state of utter bafflement and confusion. All he knew was that the dull warmth he felt was still expanding throughout his body, even in the cold winds that were blowing over the picturesque lake.

After allowing Andrew to marvel momentarily, the man continued, “Now, in an effort to be as clear as possible without having to repeat myself and delay the coming of our gracious benefactor, I will tell all from the beginning, as I saw it.

“Some few odd centuries ago, I found myself on an expedition in the territory now known as Oman under the name of Sir Algernon Cobble. We, meaning an expedition team and I, spent months in that desert wandering aimlessly with nary a clue to follow, aside from some forgotten passage in the book of the Mad Arab. One night, as our supplies were beginning to run dangerously low, our native guide Ala-Il noted that the constellations above our heads were similar to the ones we had seen in manuscripts. We headed three miles west and began digging.

“We dug for half a day straight with hardly any breaks, until finally we hit stone. A little more careful digging revealed a beautifully carved stone doorway unlike anything ever seen in this world. Curious shapes and angles were engraved into the stone, hinting at some hidden meaning that was incomprehensible. The top of the doorway was slanting outwards so had to duck to walk through it. Once inside, the walls surrounding us seemed to twist and morph as we descended, demonstrating the true dedication and artistry of whoever constructed them. The other men were wary of the angular and otherworldly nature of the passage, but I rejoiced in it.

“We walked down mile after mile of stone tunnels before exiting into a subterranean cavern that seemed as large as a city. We marveled at the destroyed and half-standing structures that were littered around the ancient grotto, wondering who could have once inhabited them. Many of the dark avenues of this place culminated in various shrines and slabs of stone that were covered with strange runes and etching and littered with the bones of many humans and animals, hinting at the sacrificial nature of the cave’s once blooming populace. Scorched pyres encircled labyrinthian symbols and eldritch words that were incomprehensible to the unversed psyche. As the fear, loathing, anguish, and trepidation in my companions grew, so too did my own sheer joy, excitement, fulfilment, and sense of finality.

“As we neared the inky depths of this stone pit, one of the other men, Thomas I believe, shifted some loose rubble underfoot which caused a series of more serious shifts that threatened to bring the whole cavern down on top of us. While the others grew frightened and ran back, hoping to make it out and bath in the safety of sunlight, I trusted myself and the words of Alhazred and pushed deeper in.

“The others were crushed to death in their futile attempt at escape, while I survived, cradled in the faith of my god.

“I entered a small dark sepulcher illuminated by two torches that I wager still burn to this day; the flames were a most extraordinary color, burning different shades the likes of which one could spend their whole lifetime searching for and still end up blind. Between them was a raised altar upon which rested a black orb held perfectly in place by some conjured agreement with gravity. A sinister monument carved into the stone wall stared fixedly down upon the orb; it was vaguely humanoid in shape with finger and toe joints elongated to twice that of what would be considered proportional. The head of the being was the most peculiar, as it was not really a head at all, but a curved band of flesh pointed upwards with five gems inset evenly along its length. Clouds and drops of rain were etched into the stone around the Being’s head. What truly puzzled me at the time was that the droplets of rain were made to appear to float upwards, not drop to the Earth.

“When I touched that black orb, I knew it was made of no metal or stone found on this earth. It hummed with such a radiant life and warmth, and I was filled with a sense of ease at its touch. That is when He spoke to me: Qu’an’tarr, The Fear-Seeker, The Consigner, The Door to Narlethylle.

“He showed me so many great and unimaginable wonders, feats of the Old Ones and their cultivation beyond our stars. He also told me how I might serve and benefit their cause, while strengthening my own. That is what brought me here, to this quaint territory. I was to help bring Qu’an’tarr and his brood into this world so that they would reclaim it for themselves. Lake Hestova will be the gate through which they enter our world and bring about a new age, for them as well as us.”

Andrew was reeling from all that he was being told. He had seen wonders beyond his belief through the waters of the lake not ten minutes ago; was he to believe these were caused by some evil being from far out of space? Surely not. He had seen heavenly lights that could only exist through the eyes of some supreme being, planets covered in lush greenery and what appeared to be human men and women tilling fields and wading through streams, aided by completely alien creatures that they co-existed with.

But, he had also seen dark and terrible amalgamations of everything evil hidden within the cosmic voids of space, held there only by ancient spells and magics that had to have been placed by something benevolent, else the world would have surely been overrun by their eldritch onslaught. Surely this old man was speaking of one of those creatures, and not the Being that had bonded itself to Andrew.

“That’s not all Officer Whitman. Once the Great Old Ones have reclaimed this soil and taken it to their home amongst the stars, they will re-make me in their image; I will sign my name in blood in the Black Book and be given a new name, one that will be feared and powerful. I will rule Narlethylle and the inferior species of Man, continuing the work my progenitors could not finish. You too may rejoice in this heavenly gift, Andrew. You need only open your mind.

In his stupor, a sudden question came to Andrew’s mind, one that he would not let go unanswered. “Why Donald?” he screamed over the wind which had begun to pick up. “Why did you kill Donald and his wife?”

Wayne let out a laugh at the question, which only angered Andrew more. “They were nothing but pawns in the great game. When the town was long established and the third and fourth generations of its settlers were being born, I knew the time was nearing. Donald’s father Sal was an unlucky man, riddled with debt and no prospects of a good living in sight. He talked of borrowing money from friends and taking out loans from any bank that would accept him. I showed him an alternative…” He drew up the sleeve on his right arm then switched the gun from his right hand to his left, still pointing it at Andrew, He raised his right arm, looking like a man about to take an oath, and revealed a tattoo of a long-limbed tree with twisted roots that were just as long, surrounded by raindrops. Suddenly, the ink on his arm began to move on his flesh. The limbs and roots of the tree began to slither upwards like snakes towards his hand, pooling into a dark writhing puddle. The old man lowered his hand to his face and bit into it hard, pulling away bleeding scraps of flesh. He lowered his mangled hand and held it palm facing upwards. Blood dripped between his fingers and into the spaces between the pier’s wooden boards, disappearing in the murky water below. The black ink that had coalesced in his palm was seeping out of the wound as a dense smoke, which did not drift away but maintained its semi-permeable shape until all of it was present. The smoke became denser, solidifying into a sphere of black stone. The flat outer blackness then turned glossy and the inside grew foggy, resembling a wizard’s glass ball. Andrew’s gaze was fixed on the orb, held there by mixed feelings of fear and familiarity.

“Ah, I see the recognition in your eyes; you know this. Or rather, you know a part of it,” he gestured with the gun to the twirling shards of metal that floated behind Andrew. “This,” he raised the orb, “is the mark my Lord left on this world. From it we may find Him, and through it we hope He finds us. He offered the Francis family a solution, a blessing even. He gave them a piece of himself so that He could be with and observe them always, offering guidance when needed and accepting the tributes given. Sal and Rose Francis gave many tributes and offerings in their service to great Qu’an’taar, the greatest of which was to be a vessel that our lord could use to step into his world. That plan failed, however, and our Lord was very unhappy. A consequence of this failure, though, was the unswerving faith of their own son. Seeing that their folly produced another solution, our Lord offered them solace from this material world and allowed Donald to take up their mantle. Following in his dear father’s footsteps, he found a willing bride and promised her salvation and prosperity, which she graciously took. The laborious lives of countryside settlers are often unfulfilling; they’ll take almost any deal offered to them, regardless of the steps necessary to fulfill their end of the bargain. The devil is in the details as they say.” His grin widened at this remark. “Thusly they imbibed themselves with His presence and were blessed by his favor.” His gaze had shifted to the cosmos as he spoke, but all at once his attention was locked on Andrew. “And now you too will be baptized in his sanctimonious waters and join his ethereal choir!”

Andrew hardly had time to comprehend what had been told to him before he felt a wet spot under his chin. He looked down and felt another cold droplet hit his face. Water appeared to be rising between the boards of the pier.

The old man looked to the sky and began shouting fervently “Yes! It is his time! He will soon be upon us!”

Andrew spun around and looked at the black shards that were twirling in the sky. They still hung suspended in the air but were now completely motionless. Slowly they began to draw closer to each other. At the point of contact the metal melted and morphed together. The shards congealed into a formless black lump, which writhed in the air before condensing itself into a small capsule, which suddenly lost its control of gravity and fell to the ground. Rufus motioned towards the capsule and said, “Pick it up and swallow it.” Andrew, who felt like he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, picked up the dark pill and dry swallowed it. The extreme bitterness of the object caused all the saliva to leave his mouth. After a momentary fit of hacking to get the pill dislodged from his throat, he managed to get it down. It left a burning taste in the back of his throat, but reinvigorated the warm feeling in his body, strengthening it and causing it to spread faster.

“Now,” Rufus said, holding his arms out before him, “look to the water.”

The vision of the cosmos held on the lake’s surface began to waver and shift. The image, dappled by the constantly rising water, appeared to be moving through space at an incredible speed. As the image flew by a menagerie of planets and systems, Andrew had momentary glimpses of what resided on them: abhorrent piles of flesh that weren’t entirely corporeal covered in fungi, giant worms with multi-jointed tentacles lining their backs swimming through oceans of sand, horribly tall faceless beings watching over a colony of mildly humanoid looking slaves toiling in mines filled with a sinister black ore. On some planets he found vast cities and buildings made of the same black ore, however the architecture was unlike any he had ever seen: buildings curved at angles that were unsuitable for any type of human habitation, passages and doorways appeared to be miles high, seemingly endless staircases arose and ended at flat stone walls, and many doors opened to reveal mirrors of different shapes and hues.

The moving image held within the lake began to slow as it neared its goal; a blue planet still just on the edge of vision. The planet displayed in the lake grew closer and closer, revealing more of its surface details: landmasses, separate continents, icy poles. Andrew quickly realized he was looking at the Earth from some thousands of miles outside of its atmosphere. The image continued to close in on the western hemisphere, then North America, the Midwest. With a feeling of nausea and vertigo, Andrew saw that he was looking down on himself standing on the edge of the pier, looking into the water. Fearful and confused, he stared at the sky, where all he could see was the large crescent moon that seemed impossibly close. Hadn’t it been full only minutes ago? He was prevented from further exploring this thought by another bout of shouting from Cartwright, “He has come! You will be the first mortal to have the pleasure of witnessing his presence in centuries! He will send down his emissary, and you will be taken to hold palaver, it is as he wishes.”

Andrew’s horrified face shifted to the ageless old man holding him hostage. As he spoke, the orb in his hand began to pulse and emit a faint yellow glow. He raised it to the moon and began chanting, “Ee hupadgh bug zhro h'r'luh Qu’an’taar mnahn', shugg nafls'uhn geb gof'nn Nyarlathotep y-hrii, ee n'gha zhro ch' y-wgah'n vulgtlagln.” The feeling of warmth that had spread throughout Andrew’s body began to pulse in time with the orb as its presence filled his lungs with hot, sweet air, and his muscles with warm ease; it was sickening. The sight of the sallow swirling yellow mist within the tenebrous orb made him want to curl on the ground and retch until he had purged himself of its influence. Somehow, Andrew knew that even if he tried nothing would come up; the seed had been planted, and soon it would bear its cosmic fruit.

The warmth settled into his body like a fever and filled him with a languorous desire to step into the lake and let its current carry him wherever it wished under the crescent moonlit sky. At this thought, his half-lidded eyes pulled themselves towards the cosmos to behold the moon. In that moment Andrew thought that nothing could eclipse its beauty. He took notice of every detail: its stark white and luminous complexion, the brilliant curvature that appeared to end in perfectly parallel points, the symmetry of the craters lining its surface; in this instant Andrew thought that there could be nothing more beautiful in the world.

He could faintly hear a sopping wet sound coming from the end of the pier, but could not tear his eyes away from the waxing celestial body above him. If he stared hard enough, the detective thought he could even see it starting to turn.

Andrew could faintly hear the wet slapping sounds slowly coming towards him, yet he could still not look away from the captivating moon which… yes! It had definitely started to tilt, he could now see that the crescent tips were becoming more equally aligned. Upon further inspection, he also noticed that the craters he had observed were not really like craters at all, but measured depressions that were evenly placed along its curvature. Wasn’t that stra-

“Andrew?”

“Huh, what?” The calm and light nature of the close voice startled the officer. He jumped back and looked towards the direction of the voice. His eyes slowly traced over the figure of the women standing there, taking in every detail of her being. She was wearing a light leather fringe jacket over a faded green t-shirt with jeans, the same outfit he had last seen her in before she died. Andrew also noticed that she was barefoot and appeared to be completely dry, though a trail of wet footprints traced the path leading she had taken from the end of the pier. When he spoke again, his voice came out in a choked and croaking whisper, “Bernice?”

“Yes,” she said with a small smile, “it’s me Andrew.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly while his tears silently fell. She softly wrapped her arms around him and returned the hug.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said with his face muffled in her hair.

“I know, I’ve missed you too.” She pulled away and held him by the shoulders, “But I don’t have much time here. The Door to Narlethylle will close soon, and when it does I’ll be gone with it.”

Andrew’s eyes widened as he took a step back, “Narlethylle? What?” In his bewildered state he turned to Wayne, who might have more to say about this ominous door, but what made him even more confused was the fact that the old man with the gun was no longer there. Dean’s body still laid motionlessly further down the dock and the police cruiser was still parked on the shore, but his captor had disappeared. Bernice grabbed her brother by the arm and pulled his attention back to her.

“We don’t have time Andrew, you need to come with me,” she said, pulling him to the end of the dock.

“Wait.” He pulled his hand out of hers. “Explain to me, what is happening. How are you here, where is Wayne, and what is this door?” The stern look he had put on softened a bit when he saw the confused one she now wore.

“Who is Wayne?” she asked innocently.

“The old man that was standing behind me earlier, he had me at gunpoint.”

“Andrew who are you talking about? There’s nobody here. It's been just you and I this whole time.”

“What? No, that’s not true! He shot Dean right in front of-” He had turned around to gesture at the body of his friend, only to find that it had vanished as well.

“Wha-, what?” His heart began to beat faster as anxiety and fear swelled in his chest

“Brother, I’ve been watching you for a long time. That house you entered is a cursed place, and that thing you killed in there wasn’t really me. The people who lived there weren’t bad, they were only misguided. They didn’t know what they had come into contact with and failed to receive him properly.

“Who is ‘Him’?”

“He is the one you saw in the basin, the lights, remember?” The officer tried to remember and found that he could, but any other memories of his time in the house that he attempted to conjure would come up blank. “HE is the door to Narlethylle. He is the one that brought me back to you, and is going to let me bring you back with me. That is, if you want to.”

Andrew was left speechless. He hadn’t seen his sister in so long, and now here she was, spouting some cultish nonsense that he could not even fully register. Yet, here she was, a living, or rather undead, testament to the story she had told. “Where is he? WHO is he really?”

Bernice smiled, “You know his name: Qu’an’taar. And he is right here with us.” As she spoke she pointed to the crescent moon hanging in the sky, which had now shifted to resemble the letter “U”. A dull yellow glow appeared in the center of the crescent and widened until it was a circle of gold, threaded with black veins. This was followed by two more spots of light that appeared on either side of the first one. Two final lights were created just under the tips of the moon. Once again, Andrew’s mind was brought back to the Francis house, where he had seen that dark figure moving quickly through the basin. The face of the figure, or what he assumed to be its face, looked eerily similar to the moon and the positions of the lights now on it’s surface.

“Bernice,” Andrew said, “that thing is a monster! Wayne told me everything, how he was going to bring that thing and others like it here so that they could wreak havoc and take the planet as their own.”

She smiled and softly laughed, “There was no man Andrew, only you. But I can tell you that if there was a man like that, he was surely mistaken. Qu’an’taar and his kin are benevolent beings, much older and wiser than humans. They have been around the cosmos for countless millennia, observing and assisting the universe as it unfolds. In return, they take what they need from the beings living throughout it; mankind is their greatest benefactor.”

“What have they ever done for mankind?”

“Well, they helped create us. They once lived here, you know. They were forced out by other beings that lived here, but left behind seeds of a new civilization that would one day help facilitate their return and give them the power to do so; that’s us.”

“What do they want from us?”

“Emotion. They have none of their own, they are creatures of pure energy and primeval power and instinct. Emotions are a powerful force that can drive people to do many things, from acts of love to heinous crimes. Emotions are unpredictable, they are entropy for the mind, which They crave more than anything.”

Andrew didn’t know what to say, his mind was whirling from the implications of all he was being told. His gaze shifted the lake which now reflected the glowing crescent moon, and remembered all the images he had seen swirling inside of it. “When I looked into the lake I saw a planet filled with salve creatures and other faceless beings. The enslaved were forced to dig in mines full of black ore for these creatures. How am I supposed to believe that they are benevolent?”

“Even gods know the concept of sin, Andrew. Sins must be punished, and punishment creates fear, loathing, hatred, and eventually resigned complacency. Those who sin must still provide, and emotions born from sin are abundant and ever changing: anger, sadness, loss, regret… even satisfaction. But the purest forms of emotion are happiness, joy, and serenity. Those are the feelings we want to feel, which makes them plentiful and all the more sweet.”

“But why would they need to mine, and what for? I saw other planets with strange structures made of the same type of material.”

“Even creatures of the cosmos need a home, Andrew. They need places to store their knowledge and arts.”

“These things have their own art?”

“Yes, and it is beautiful. It’s quite puzzling and often unclear to the human mind, but if one has eyes on the ‘inside’, so to speak, one may truly see the splendor and the secrets hidden within.”

“What secrets do these beings have?”

Again, she smiled, “More than you could possibly count or understand. That is, unless,” she held out her hand, “you come with me, and see for yourself.”

Andrew stood there, unsure of what to do next. She kept her hand outstretched, waiting for his choice. He looked up at the moon again, which seemed to now be staring intently at him; the black veins within the golden circles slowly writhed and pulsed in their confinement. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to go, in fact he was almost positive he didn’t, but something held him there. He had almost forgotten about the warmth seeping through his body when he realized he could no longer actually feel it. When had it stopped spreading, he wondered? Had it even stopped, or had it made its way throughout his entire body and now slept dormant? Or did he feel it, and the fact he had been feeling it for so long meant that the sensation had become normal? He feared it was the latter. Now that it was only a memory in his mind, he didn’t think it had actually been that bad.

“Andrew, brother, this world has nothing for you anymore. Its taken everything from you, from us. If you come with me you’ll see everything as it really is, how it was made to be.” Her outstretched hand still hung in the air, waiting to grasp his.

Andrew became very wary about the situation he was now in. “Is Qu’an’taar giving me much of a choice?”

Her smile widened, showing perfectly straight and white teeth, “You came here, didn’t you? You already made the choice. Now you just need to follow through. Come with me, Andrew. Let me show you the miracles of the cosmos firsthand.”

For one final time, his gaze turned towards the moon, with its eyes still focused on him. The motion of the lake made the reflected moon shimmer, but the image of the golden orbs remained motionless in the water. The more he stared at it, the more he thought that there was another moon in the lake. But surely that could never be possible, even for something as powerful as these Old Ones. But, if a gate had actually been opened, who could say what was possible.

“Please Andrew, the door is closing soon, and when it does I’ll be gone. Come with me.” A look of desperation spread across her face as tears began to well up behind her eyes. “Please, I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Guilt racked his heart, and the officer reluctantly placed his hand in his sisters. As he did, her eyes and smile brightened, and that familiar warmth blossomed in his chest again. It was not all too unpleasant this time, though. “Thank you,” she said softly.

As she guided him towards the lake, the golden eyes reflected within it began to close, yet the ones on the real moon did not. When all five orbs of light were gone the moon disappeared as well, and the water in the lake began to rise more fervently into the sky. At the end of the pier, steps made of water shifted and made a stairway leading to the bottom of the lake. “Don’t worry,” Bernice said, “the steps will hold your weight.” She walked off the end of the pier and placed her foot on the first step and stomped, demonstrating its sturdiness.

While he was descending, Andrew stuck his hand into the wall of water that enclosed the staircase; it was icy cold, but when he pulled his hand back out it was dry. The moonlight that filled the stairway was beginning to fade, and Andrew saw that the water on the surface was starting to close up above them. The encroaching darkness made him tense and nervous; even though the staircase was still dry, the fear of drowning made him hesitate on his descent. His sister turned and softly squeezed his hand, and a comforting wave of peace enveloped him. I will not die in here, he thought, Qu’an’taar would not allow it.