Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,51

open doors.

“I cannot swim,” Drith said. “I will not be going to that damnable place.”

“I’m not sure any of us can cross those waters,” Tolan said. “The depths are unknown, the water is black… it maybe deadly to the living.”

“If I but had my wings now,” Shannara said. “There must be some way to cross. The Lich Lord must grant us an audience.”

She walked around the edges of the water, knelt, and cursed. Then she stood and sheathed her blades, looking around at the trees. “We must get across. There are some vines in these trees.”

Tolan stepped over to her. “Do not be foolish. You would never make it. The vines are not long enough, and the trees don’t even reach over the water.”

Moans echoed through the swamp as more undead rose from the water and entered Mort A’ghas.

Pim looked down into the swamp. He watched it ripple from the undead’s wake. The water was slick and reflected ethereal light from the stirring sky above.

“I can cross it,” he said to them.

Both turned with wide eyes.

“Pim?” Tolan started.

“My fleet. My fleet will carry me across.”

“Wivering can cross water?”

“This Wivering can.” He turned away from Tolan. You’ve done it once, fool. Once. This might not even work. What if I fall in? Then what?

Tolan took him by the arm. “Are you sure, my friend?”

Pim looked up at him and cracked a half smile. “No. But I have to try.”

“Understand that you will be alone over there. No one will be able to protect you should the undead come for you. The Lich Lord, himself, might see it fit to…to…”

Pim swallowed. “As Shannara said, he must grant us an audience. Perhaps, because I will be alone, I will not be seen as a threat. He is our only hope. I have no choice but to do this. This is why we are all here, isn’t it? I have the fleet, and it’s my duty to use it.”

He moved away from the others. “Clear me a path.” They did as he asked, and stepped away from the water. Tolan looked on with concern.

Pim backed up as far as he could, and removed his boots. The mud seemed to slither around his toes. You can do this. You can do this. He breathed in and out, regulating it. He felt his heart beginning to beat faster. His palms grew damp.

He focused all of his concentration on the water. His heart pounded, now. His feet twitched. He took a deep breath, and his eyes tingled.

“Your eyes…” Shannara gasped with surprise.

Pim grinned. His entire body felt alive. It burned with purpose, with a new fire. He leaned forward, pressed all of his weight onto one leg, and ran. He unleashed his fleet, shooting past the group in the blink of an eye. The ground couldn’t hold him back. The mud scattered at his power.

Pim struck the water. He felt icy fingers scrape over his feet, but he ran, and he ran on top of the water. Mort A’ghas came up fast; the open doors gaped, and the windows leered at him. Pim felt exhilarated, his entire body surged. Both his face and his feet tingled.

The doorway flashed before him, and he stopped, slamming onto solid ground. Pim gasped as all the air left his body. Trembling, he knew he’d succeeded. He stood on the edge of the island, the doors before him. Everyone on the other side of the water cheered for him. Shannara’s bright smile and glinting eyes moved him. Joy filled his heart, only to be chased away a second later.

He turned to Mort A’ghas and crossed the threshold. The Wivering drew his sword, listening to the strange whispers all around him. Scratching sounds rose from the stone floor.

The interior was shrouded in shadows that moved across the walls and past the narrow windows, windows that seemed like eyes following Pim as he moved about. Stone pillars with serpents carved into them stretched to a pitched roof. A blood-red mosaic spread across the floor, etched with the images of frogs, birds, snakes, and other creatures of the swamplands. Pungent fumes billowed from brass urns, and the corners of the room glowed with candles mounted in tall candelabra.

The walls were fashioned with a variety of wet stones, jagged, protruding in spots, and caked with mud. Mud also laced the floor; Pim’s bare feet dragged through it as the stench of decay filled his nostrils. The air was cold, and it nipped at his flesh like