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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 38: Across The Threshold
They continued on. Gib was muttering to himself, trying to recall the time he had passed by before, but his memory was hazy, and he said nothing to the others as of yet. The passage continued to slope downwards, but only at a gradual incline, and they made a great deal more progress forward than downwards.
“We’ve come a good mile or so,” Anardan speculated.
They stopped to eat. No one was particularly hungry, nor did they have anything much in the way of food, but it was necessary to stop and nourish themselves. Gib chewed on his dry traveler’s bread without tasting it, his eyes fixedly gazing on the tunnel, trying to remember what came further down it, but it seemed that he recalled it only as he actually passed by it. After their rest, they continued on. The passage took a turn sharply to the left, and then opened up into a great cavern.
Sir Dractor, still with Luxus, rounded the corner last, talking to Shainya. They stopped short, with the rest of the company in front of them. They all gazed at the vast cavern. In the center of the cavern was the massive bulk of an ancient stone building. The Temple Of Lost Stars.
“I’m scared,” said Luxus, clutching Sir Dractor tightly. The boy was shivering.
“Don’t be,” said Shainya, “it’ll be alright.”
“No,” said Voolmark, tightly grasping his staff, “I think the boy's right. We should leave.”
“I don’t feel anything wrong,” said Anardan.
“Nor I,” said Bjarn.
“It’s the temple,” said Reno, “It, or something in it, knows we’re here. It knows the Pendants have come.”
“Then let's get moving,” said Sir Dractor, “We didn’t come all this way just to turn around and go home. Do you remember any of this, Gib?”
“I don’t know…” said Gib.
Bjarn stepped forward a few paces, his keen eyes traveling over the stonework of the Temple Of Lost Stars.
“I don’t get it…” said Anardan, “Was this temple always underground?”
“Nay…” replied Bjarn slowly, “If that had been the case...the temple’s roof and pillars would have been carved out of this same rock, and would have been firmly integrated with the ceiling and floor. No, this temple is out of place. It must have sunk into the ground somehow.”
Gib nodded. “Earthquakes. It’s possible. Many a time when I was living in the Neverwood did it shake and tumble. A wonder the temple wasn’t ruined when it was swallowed.”
They continued forward slowly, carefully, wary there might be something in the shadows that meant ill.
“This reminds me of the crypt of Dernhal.” shuddered Voolmark, “During the end of the Fell War. Dreary place that was, infested with vampires…”
Aros shivered.
“Don’t,” he said, “Don’t scare us more that we need to be.”
They continued forward and the temple loomed over them, snarling gargoyles frozen forever glared down upon the party of nine as they passed between the carved columns and up the uneven stairs. Then with one last glance at once another, they stepped past the threshold.
Hans Lentawl yawned. It was late, very late, and yet he had not gone home. His parents would rebuke him later, but not harshly. They were used to their bibliomaniac son staying up all hours to devour epics stowed away in the Archives of Orion, the capital of Classic LEGOland. A gentle tolling of the bells alerted Hans to the fact that is was half past midnight.
I really should get to bed.
Hans stood and shelved the volume he had been reading. Checking to see that he had he keys with him, he started to head towards the giant oak doors when something caught his eye. There was something glowing in the darkness.
I must have left a lamp on...tyco...
Hans reversed course and weaved his way though the spiral maze of bookcases, following the light with narrowed eyes. At last as he approached it he realized it was not a lamp that was one, for the light was coming from under the door of the Rare Manuscripts room, and no one had visited it since he had led that old wizard and his companions there over three weeks ago.
Now that’s odd... thought Hans, fumbling with his keys and inserting the right one into the door. It opened, and Hans’ heart leapt. The light was not coming from a lamp, or a fire, or a torch. It was shining out from a sheet of paper laid out of one of the tables. Hans slowly approached it, his heard pounding, ready to run away at a moment. As he set down his own lamp he realized the parchment was the very one that recorded the account of the Temple Of Lost Stars. But now, at the end of the final paragraph, new words that hadn’t been there before shone bright.
“The bearers of the Pendants have crossed the threshold. They will face their greatest fears. They will burn.”
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