A snake. Not the snake, but just as nasty.
It formed out of the wispy ether surrounding us and lunged straight at me. Amaya screamed, her flames fierce and bright in this place, a sharp, clean contrast against the shadows that suddenly seemed to be gathering.
Hell's gate, I realized, was about to be opened.
I swore and swung Amaya as hard as I could. Her blade swept through the snake's form and sent it scattering. I had no idea whether she killed it and I didn't care. I ran forward, not worrying about whether I stayed on the path, as my gaze swept the gates. There was no evidence of the sorceress's presence anywhere near the gates themselves, which is where, logically, one would expect a lock to be. But this was the gray fields, and logic didn't exactly apply here. I veered to the left, off the path. Wispy hands began to tear and drag at me, as if desperate to force me into their bitter, painful darkness. I swung Amaya left and right, sending the shreds whirling away. Energy slithered across my being – a caress so light it felt like little more than sparks that hit, then disappeared.
The key was near.
I ran on, my gaze on the warm light to the side of the gates. I still couldn't see the sorceress, but she was there, somewhere.
The shadows grew thicker, the sense of impending doom stronger. Then I saw it – a flicker that grew into a flame. A flame that became a dagger, then became something else entirely – something that shone with an intensity I've never seen before.
The key.
The sorceress had found it.
I wasn't going to get there. I couldn't stop her. I swore and did the only thing I could do – I flung Amaya, with as much force as I could muster.
She arrowed through the air, her flames trailing behind her like a comet and her scream rolling across the rapidly darkening antechamber like a call to arms. The hands tearing at me seemed to pause; then as one they turned and raced after Amaya, quickly overtaking her and rushing on.
Too late.
We were all too late.
There was a blinding flash of light, followed by an explosion. Air hit, the force smashing into Amaya and sending her spinning away. A second later it did the same to me.
As I tumbled over and over, the air around me began to shudder, gently at first but gathering strength, until it seemed as if the entire field was about to shatter. Then it shifted. Dropped. The warm brightness of the antechamber flickered and, in the brief darkness, the gossamer fingers rushing forward found shape and form, became beings who were twisted and misshapen, and whose very countenance spoke of pain. Eons of pain. Then the warmth reinstated itself and the wisps became nothing more than reaching hands.