The House of Yeel - By Michael McCloskey Page 0,2
thought.
The sounds of waves striking the rocks far below had receded with the height but were still loud to Jymoor, who had become accustomed to the cries of the forest birds and the rustling of leaves in the wind. She listened patiently over the noise, waiting for any hint that her request had been heard.
No answering call came, but Jymoor sensed some shift in the floating house before her. At first she thought it changed shape, then she realized that the entire house floated toward her! As it neared she got a better idea of its size: the house rose about twelve times as tall as Jymoor at its apex and extended at least that far in diameter.
Jymoor kneeled. She pushed back the wave of fear that tried to rise up in her chest. Yeel himself was responding to the summons! She hoped she would not anger Yeel. The legends spoke of a being of immense power. Jymoor took a deep breath and readied herself for the task. Her homeland depended on her. Only with the help of Yeel could her people hope to survive. She had been instructed to offer herself to Yeel, even as a sacrifice if necessary, to secure the help of this ancient entity.
The house crept closer to the cliffside and slowed. It came to a stop less than a single pace from the rocks. One of the smooth, white walls confronted Jymoor, hovering close enough to touch.
Jymoor remained on her knees. “Forgive me, Great Yeel. I humbly seek an audience with you!” Jymoor cried out.
Once again, no direct answer came. Instead, a large segment of the wall descended toward Jymoor. She whimpered and crawled away, uncertain. When she gathered enough courage to look up again, Jymoor saw that a perfect white staircase had descended onto the rocks of the bluff, allowing ingress into a white corridor leading up into the floating house.
“My lord? May I enter, my lord?” groveled Jymoor.
Part of Jymoor still wanted to flee, but where would she go? She had traveled for so long, come so far, how could she not enter? She stood and peered up into the white hallway that beckoned.
Jymoor walked up the stairs to the entrance. Touching the wall gingerly, she tested the surface of the dwelling. It felt smooth like a fine wood or polished marble, but absolutely white with no grain visible. It warmed her hand. She hesitated again, gathering her courage. Many odd tales were told of Yeel, and some of them had a sinister slant to them. Some told of an eccentric recluse who would just as soon eat visitors as help them, others described an insane sorcerer lost to the dark arts.
Jymoor took a step into the open doorway. Clearly one aspect of the tales had been true— those describing the unusual height of the man. The doorway was very tall, about half again taller than the doorway to Jymoor’s house or the tavern back at Riverglade.
Expecting to be accosted at any moment, Jymoor moved into the legendary home. Tall doorways led away to the left and the right. Jymoor caught sight of a fountain straight ahead in some kind of atrium. The air around her felt cool and fresh, without the tang of salt like the air outside.
Behind her a snap and sizzle broke the silence. Jymoor jumped at the sound. She whirled around. The entrance had disappeared!
“Spirits preserve me,” Jymoor whispered. Then she turned back and called out again.
“Lord Yeel? I beg forgiveness, my lord. I seek audience with you!”
She heard only the soft murmur of the fountain ahead.
Jymoor stepped forward again so she could look through the doors to both sides. Long corridors stretched away, curving with the shape of the house. Strange objects decorated the halls. Jymoor saw busts of unknown heroes and paintings of strange places and terrible battles. Nearby Jymoor saw a full suit of armor made for some being clearly not human, for it had no less than six arm guards sprouting from the central breastplate. The helm was wide and flat, with a spiked visor adorned with silver.
These marvels distracted Jymoor from her fear. For a moment she forgot her dangerous trespass and stared at the beauty of the place. Then she began to walk forward toward the great fountain in the next room.
“Forgive me, Lord Yeel,” Jymoor cried out. “Lord Yeel, are you there? I am Jymoor, here to present myself as a gift to you.”
The traveler found herself in a large circular fountain