Small chunks of debris were falling now, and seeps of dust. The rumbling grew, pounding the soles of their feet. And there was something strange about the air. It felt charged, oppressive, and far too warm given the chill atmosphere.

There was a movement to their rear. Looking back, they could make out one of the Sluagh at the foot of the stairs, and several more behind. The guardsman lost his nerve. He dropped the snuffed lantern and ran, past the door bleeding light and along the passageway. His dash lasted less than twenty paces. A Sluagh’s feelers whipped down from the ceiling, snared him and hoisted him up. Howling, legs kicking, he disappeared into shadow.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Jennesta hurried to the door, General Mersadion in tow. It was unlocked, but heavy and hard to move. She let him take the brunt of shifting it. On the other side was another, much shorter corridor, leading to an archway. The space beyond was bathed in beating light.

She got him to secure the door, then said, “Looks like it’s just you and me, General.”

Pointing at the source of the light he asked, “What is it, my lady?”

“Think of it as a… gateway. It’s very old, and it was what inspired my father to create the artefacts that rightly belong to me.”

He nodded, as though he understood.

“Activating the portal has released the energy that’s destroying this palace,” she added offhandedly.

Mersadion looked no more comfortable for the explanation.

They approached the arch. It led to a set of wide steps that swept down to a capacious chamber that housed five massive, rudely worked standing stones, arranged in a semicircle. At its centre was a low granite dais, studded with what appeared to be gems. Issuing from the dais’ surface was something wondrous.