By David C. Daoust
Page 8 of 10
The Balcony was a small, intricately tiled, rounded platform with a bronze railing, stretching from one side to the next, seemingly without a way through. Beyond the balcony, stretched darkness. Efreet could not see a far wall, or a floor, not even a ceiling. It must have been a grand hall he now stood in. Grand halls could be good, often times they were decorated elaborately with gems and jewels, all of which would fit nicely in his pouch.
The door behind him slammed shut, the small ball of light skittered through, before it could be separated from the gnome. Efreet was momentarily worried that the door would again seal, though he realized that made no sense and was sure it only locked from the outside. He took in the darkness, straining his vision to see some sign of a structure.
Just for a moment he saw something large move by, flat like a kite, but much larger. He thought, some form of bat, though it was soundless. Something about the air around him, seemed thick. He pulled his body up over the railing, clearly made for a human, and thrust out a hand out into the darkness. His hand was immersed in water. That’s when he noticed the ripples as they flowed around the dome of water he was in. It was no grand hall, but a magical bubble, peering into some cavernous, underground, water supply.
It was actually wondrous. He gestured and sent the small ball of light into the water wall that was before him. The interesting array of colors that appeared across the water’s surface was amazing. Lost in a daze, as though peering into a dancing flame, interrupted by the chill down his spine as the massive eye opened before him, it was like waking up in a nightmare.
He fell back as the eye approached, The eye twice the size of the gnome and growing as it got nearer, suddenly Efreet could make out the rest of the massive fish head as it turned in the water to reveal its other eye. A sound like a gong went off in Efreet’s head. He clutched at his head, as the voice began to speak directly into his mind.
“I have not seen that door open in more than a thousand years,” the voice seemed loud, too loud, though it made not a sound. “Who are you small one? Who awakens me from darkness eternal?” the goldfish did not sound pleased.
Efreet stifled a ‘what?’ for he knew he heard every word. The impulse was only to buy him a moment to think.
“You wish me to repeat myself?” the fish’s telepathic voice returned in answer to his thoughts. “And yet refuse to ask, a strange creature are you.”
“Efreet” the small gnome, still clutching at his head, gasped in a voice he knew was too low to hear, so started again much louder, “Efreet Longtile the Third, of Aveen…”
