Demon of the Black Gate

The passage beyond the cavern was not tunneled by man. The trail wove along a giant rent in the earth, a jagged narrow crease extending from the cavern. Much of the way was on the natural course of rough rock, a stone mantle braced against the edge of a subterranean canyon. Where a spur or fall had obstructed passage, the rock had been hewn back. The passage dipped and rose but the general inclination was descending. The demon led. He let himself rise in a small fire, an ochre flame that floated closely around him. The umbra of his light pierced the stygian blackness of the cavern trail. Jagged edges of the walls flickered in the orange and black shadows, the abysmal gash in the earth beside them absorbed the glow, not allowing the fire to penetrate its depths.

Cerra was becoming more and more aware of the nuances of this alien underground world. She didn’t feel any of the uniformity of the tunnel, the clopping echoes of Sugar’s hooves sounded random, the walls felt close or distant depending on the vagaries of the route. No wagons would pass this way for the ground was much too chopped and irregular.

She felt full and rested after the game bird for dinner and a sound sleep. The trail they now followed was more like the mountain trails she was familiar with. The closeness of the sound and pressure from the earth was still unsettling for her, but she liked the sharpness of the sound that came back to her. The unevenness of the trail caused Sugar to bunch, clatter and stall as the horse negotiated the uneven path. There was no regular gait to lull her to sleep. She had to ride with concentration. Having a steep fall to one side kept her slightly on edge. Kamir lay bunched in her lap. He too was alert and watchful. She listened for every change in sound, and kept her eyes on the demon as he led her. Her edginess was invigorating. She felt alive and a little in danger. She wondered if she fell that somehow the demon might conspire to save her.

The glowing form of the demon that shown in front of her blind eyes was also causing some excitement. Her experience with men was very limited. She had become accustomed to his muscular nudity. But as she followed him now, senses taut, his nudity struck a different chord. She pressed against the saddle as she thought of how she had molded him: when she had run her hands over his shoulders and back, shaping his stomach, sculpting his legs and thighs. She had no reason to be generous when she had shaped his manhood. It was more than enough. She felt herself glowing in a very familiar way and she pressed against the saddle as Sugars motion caused it to rock. The sudden onslaught of orgasm took her breath away when it happened, it came so forcefully and quick. She groaned.

“Are you in need?” came the demon’s voice into her delicious reverie. It felt like a lovers murmur. He had stopped. She tried to rein in her flushing senses as she reined in Sugar. He was facing her, his tall musculature on wonderful display. She felt herself blush. Need. Need indeed.

“No. No … I’m fine. I felt a little faint there for a moment.”

“A lot faint” she corrected herself mentally.

“There is water near.” The demon looked at her. She didn’t know what his mien might be like to one of sight, but in her blind vision she saw compassionate eyes looking back at her, ones that could have savored and shared the moment.

“Good. A short rest would be good.” she said. In spite of her distraction, the other senses hadn’t deceived her. As they had dropped in altitude, the sound of rushing water began penetrating from the depths, and shush of running water was now very apparent.

“Some fresh water would taste wonderful!”

The demon felt the pull of her words. ‘Water’ turned over and over in his mind. There was a dark echo to it, as though the remnants of sound came from without the cave. He turned without remark and continued leading. Cerra began humming a little tune as she nudged Sugar forward, one about counting and bees and beaus that Jessann had taught her. She rode for awhile, letting the echo of her song accompany her voice. She sang the chorus aloud, making a delightful round. She felt very good indeed.

The trail emptied into an long dead crater in the mountains. The rent opened to the sky, a steep-sided bowl rimmed with jagged cornices. The subterranean creek slithered into the bowl where a small lake gathered. Cerra felt a huge sigh of relief escape her as she realized they had exited the cave. The smell of fresh air had been drifting at her, but the wash of ozone that flooded her now was livid compared to the heavy flavors of earth and stone. She heard the distinct rumble of thunder, chased down the steep sides of the open bowl to the cavern.

“Let’s stop for a moment or two.” she said.

She felt agreement in her mind, and it was a very short while later that he stopped. Kamir was always a good judge, and when she felt his eager leap to the ground she dismounted as well, sliding from Sugar’s back.

“We’re outside the cave!” she exclaimed. “My word, that was an experience!” She took a few tentative steps toward the demon. She had the overwhelming urge to kiss him. She didn’t know that she could, but she wanted to be closer to him.

“There is more … cave.” said the demon.

She looked up, as drops of rain began shedding through the opening above her. She searched her awareness for clues, but after the oppressive weight of the cave everything for the moment seemed beyond her reach. The falter of rain turned to a full spate, hitting the small lake with ferocity.

“Water.” Cerra heard the demons deep gravelled voice.

She turned to look at the demon and she froze. The blue-white fire of him was beginning to shred and fall in points of light. His eyes looked vacant and lost, unsure of the surroundings.

He tried to focus on the woman, the … woman … ‘Cerra’. His thoughts were swirling with the eddy that broke him apart.

“No. NO!” she yelled. “Don’t go. NO!” she felt a panic overtake her as the demon began dissolving from her vision. She heard her name, not caroming against the walls of the grotto, but as a cry from beyond: ‘Cerra’. The word felt as confused as the churn of heavy rain in the basin pool. The demon could not stop the pull.

Cerra watched in horror as the light of the demon shifted like sand through an hourglass, draining in a thin trickle that was quickly absorbed by the small tarn. An eddy caught the scattered and burnished glow and sucked it to the depths.

“Come back!” she cried out as the last glimmer of him faded away.

Her recent joys and elations tumbled headlong into a crushing sense of loss. She sank to her knees.

“I need you” came out as a weak and sorrowful plea.

The flurry of rain rattled and scourged the open bowl, but Cerra didn’t feel the showering damp that pulled at her hair and clothing. For the first time in a long time, her world felt completely dark. She felt limp and used up, drained by the rain as it poured off of her.

It wasn’t until the deluge was spent that Cerra started to think again. Any tears were lost in the water that beaded in small torrents from her hair and face.

“If this doesn’t just grab the ass.” she said to herself.

She wasn’t given to swearing, but one of Barnum’s favorite expressions seemed appropriate at the moment. The rain had stopped and the dripping remains created the first recognitions for her. The steep bowl-like nature of the opening was very evident now, the lips and edges of the rim overhung the grotto and water poured in from all around the rim above her. Kamir and Sugar had wisely taken shelter under the rocky eaves. She heard the shake of Sugar’s harness. She stood, turning in the direction of her horse, the scent becoming apparent. Kamir let out a low mewl.

“Well, you two are still here.”

She didn’t have her stick with her. She took a few tentative steps, her sodden skirts dragging. She slipped on the uneven stone, catching herself with her hands on the slick rock. She worked her way back to her feet to stumble again. Sugar made the move to cover the gap, nosing ahead a few paces to stand next to Cerra as she rose the third time. She held the stirrup, then saddle for support.

She mopped her face and wrung her hair in a vain attempt to dry out. She stood there, next to the horse, feeling Sugar’s familiar hide and smell. She had traveled for days, letting the all the new places and environments play with her mind without fear, for the demon was always there to guide her. Now there was no light to follow. She didn’t know where she was except in the bowels of the earth and returning the way she came was impossible. She sniffed and took a deep breath.

“It’s obvious we can’t stay here.” she said to her small entourage. She thought of her comfortable home. A few impossible days away.

“And we can’t go back.” she sighed with a final, disappointed air, for the gap was impassable without the bridge.

She started by stripping her wet clothes and exchanging them for ones from her bags. They were soiled some, but dry. She felt a little rejuvenated by the change, though she grimaced a little when she realized she’d just done her laundry. She didn’t like doing laundry. She left the damp skirt and blouse tied loosely over the saddlebags to dry some before she stowed them properly. Taking care of the basics helped her focus. She grabbed her roughbrush and restored some order to her curls.

“We’ll just keep on the trail we are on.” She announced as she worked out the water and some of the knots.

“’How hard could it be with you two to guide me?” It was a little dose of false courage, but it helped settle her resolve. Her intuition told her the demon would not be returning any time soon. If at all. She had the feeling too that her part was not complete. By the time she finished collecting herself she mounted Sugar as though she was ready to ride to town.

“Kamir … mount up!” she called. Kamir returned a loud meow from the distance, a little to her left. It was a call he made when he wanted her to pay attention to him. Usually it was to play.

“Oh, so you’re ready to lead me on, are you? All right. Tag … you’re it.”

She set Sugar in motion towards the cat. She had to change direction twice as Kamir changed his spot before she felt the openness of the sky disappear. The weight of the cavern descended upon her once again as they left the grotto. She remembered the grouse the demon had brought her. Surely it could not be much further. Once they were in the cave, Kamir bounded up to the saddle, and sat attentively facing forward. Cerra stroked him between the ears, giving the skull a little extra massage.

“Where would I be without you?”

Cerra didn’t know the import of her words. The grotto was a hub of trails and cave leading from the open bowl. It was the first of the Dragon Egg mines. Picking the right passage would have been difficult, but the path Kamir had selected followed the same rift of stone that had created the underground chasm she had passed over on the demons back. The trail followed the cleft that rose above her like steepled halls. Just moving began easing a lot of her anxieties. Once she had ascended a short distance, tight corners hugging jagged outcroppings, the trail leveled out and soon the jagged break gained an arching roof that allowed a breeze. Although she couldn’t see it, the rent had torn itself a thin but unobstructed path to the sky, the path following the narrow fissure. The trail became rock hard, and no cuts or divots were apparent.

The horse was using a careful pace, wary and unsure of the surface. The narrow slot gradually opened enough that Cerra could sense the open sky above her and she felt a sense of relief. They were exiting the cave at long last. She could feel the openness ahead of her. Sugar felt tense and reluctant.

“Come on, Sugar. We’re doing fine.” she coaxed the horse, but decided to stop for the moment.

“Kamir. Let’s see where we are.” She dismounted. She could smell the freshness of the sun. It was daytime yet. She grabbed her walking stick, and started forward leading Sugar. Kamir was in front of her, silent.

She took a couple of paces before emerging from the shadow of the rift, feeling for the wall to her left. The trail had been hugging that surface since they had left the grotto. The sun felt wonderful, the air brilliant and incredibly open. After the compression of the earth, the vibrant spaciousness of the outside air felt expansive and grand. She took a deep breath and felt for her next step with the stick. Her foot was in motion, but the stick touched nothing.

Her heart leapt to her throat and her stomach felt like it had drawn her entire life inside. She was falling. Sugar raised up on her reins, and Cerra’s tight grip lurched her back to the cliff wall. She was gasping for breath as the true implications of the expansive feeling in front of her crashed into her. Whispers of wind came UP the walls, and the chorus ran far below, the thin whistles sounding from the vast emptiness. She heard the cry of an eagle crease the air ... beneath her!

She gulped, unwilling to move. She stilled her heartbeat. Finally, with great caution and keeping a hand touched to the cliff wall she tapped out to the abrupt edge. A pace wide. Two at most. Her mind quickly limned the image of the mantle she found herself on. The sighs of air brushing the sheer walls beckoned. She pushed so her back was flat to the wall behind her. She had her eyelids closed, trying to shut out the vacant space. She took a step backward, getting to Sugar’s side.

“Sugar, you have to help me now. By all, I can’t walk out there. There is nowhere else to go. You have to do it. Please girl.” She tried with little success to keep the anxiety out of her voice. She was still shaking a little when she replaced her walking stick and eased herself with great care into the saddle. She leaned over Sugar’s neck to whisper in her ear.

“This trail can’t end here. Find a way.” she pleaded softly. She heard Kamir from her left.

“I say, follow the cat. Be careful.”

She gave a little nudge with her thighs. Her heart was in her throat and she scarcely breathed as Sugar started forward with a shuffling turn to the left, her backside shifting. Cerra tried to make herself empty in the saddle, reins slack. The air to her right was empty and abysmal. Sugar made short unsure steps, hooves making hard strikes on the bare stone. The left saddle bag brushed the cliffwall on her side. She could feel its close presence, a reassuring magnet, holding her to the earth while the emptiness seemed to pull at her other side.

It was well Cerra didn’t see the vertiginous drop just off her right side. Not even a small tree found purchase on the sheer wall of the massive cliff. The path had been cut by nature, a slip of rock creating a narrow mantle that cut across the escarpment. The face of stone rose above the expanse of Dennarion forests. Such was the height of the cliff, that the open plains of Alatia could be seen to the south. The forest below had no more definition than a carpet, hapazardly woven in conflicting greens. Cerra tried to keep her thoughts anchored to the wall beside her, and willed Sugar’s feet to be sure. Cerra didn’t even want to count the hoofbeats, to measure their progress.

Each step was measured between heartbeats and the passage interminal. They continued easing down the narrow shelf. Cerra felt as if the next footfall might be the one that falters. She wondered about the wisdom of riding such a narrow passage when her knee and saddlebag abraded the wall. She felt the horse bunch in the same moment and her heart went to her throat as she Sugar began to scramble with a leap. Cerra let the horse move freely, feeling the back legs scrambling for purchase. They were close to toppling backward and she leaned forward, willing them safe by all the gods, as the horse bounded and crested the strip of talus and lurched to a stop, panting and snorting.

The truncated flat parcel was an outcrop of crystaline gneiss that buttressed the huge wall of granite. In the ages past the spare flat had served as staging for the miners making the passage along the cliff face to the adit of the Dragon Egg mine. Trees and grass had found purchase and a thin ridge extended down, an exposed bone of the mountain. The trail was balanced on the crest to the forested and corrugated chines below.

Once on the ridge and out of the shadow of the cliff, Cerra could tell the sun was well behind her and shaded by the mountain peaks. She had no ambition or strength to go further. She dismounted, and with the high airs of the cliffs still so apparent, she was very reluctant to venture more than an arm’s length from Sugar.

Cerra settled down in a little hummock of grass bolstered by a large slab of granite that punched from the ground. There would be no welcome fire tonight. She ate a cold but grateful meal of the rest of the pheasant, pulling scraps for Kamir. Sugar found enough tough grass on the small bluff to keep her occupied. Cerra imagined she was nested in an aerie; her nook could have been framed in sticks and feathers and would have felt the same. It an eagle had flown to her she would not have been surprised.

Not for the first time she wondered what had happened to the demon, and whether she would ever see him again. Would she see her home again? She knew enough of the geography of her land to know that the Granite Mountains would run south to the Black Gate. Getting down from this precipitous ledge would be the first step and she believed ... she hoped ... that she had passed the worst of it.

Somehow she would find her way home. Sugar and Kamir would see to that. All she had to do was believe it possible. To believe otherwise was crushing, and she pushed it from her mind. She started to doze, nestled in her little nook. Kamir lay tucked in behind the crook of her legs. She thought of the demon, and of the blackness he had inadvertently shared with her, and shuddered. She offered up a silent prayer …

“I wish for your freedom.”

That notion slipped around in her thoughts as she let herself drift to sleep. It occurred to her in the last waking moment that he had called her by name. Any other time the recognition would have thrilled her, but it had been lost in the moment of her anguish.

“You have my love.” she added, a last murmur in her fading, so she was unaware she had spoken aloud.

Cerra did not break her fast when she woke in the morning. She wanted to get off this precipice as soon as she could. Even though her feet touched earth, she felt too removed from it in the lofty edges.

“I am no eagle or hawk” she thought, “to soar in these airs.”

She gave a soft whistle. Sugar came over to her, though there was scant else she could go. She felt around the horse, stuffed her walking stick in its sleeve and mounted quickly. She chirped and called Kamir, but he elected to stay aground. She could hear his miaow in the direction they were traveling. The eastern sun felt like it was shining from nearly below her. She tried to reconnect on the altitude she was at, but decided it was a lost cause. The air was thin, so the trail would be a long time descending. A fall whether from these heights or from a small boulder further down would be fatal in any event. There was no help for a broken bone. She turned Sugar to the direction she had heard the cat.

“Lead on, little lion” she said with a quiet but brave cry. The airs about her still felt treacherous in their emptiness.

“And thank you, Sugar” she added with a pat to Sugar’s neck. “For this and the next time I shall need you.” She gave a little pressure to her heels and Sugar set forward, negotiating the meager trail that let down the razorback ridge.

#

The demon raced along, tumbling down the cascades of water, fighting for freedom from the watery embrace. His thoughts splashed as he did, scattered and disconnected waves of memory, foaming bits of ideas that slid without purchase into the next pool. His essence was ejected from the side of the high cliff in a waterfall that drained the subterranean cistern. He managed to think of the spaciousness of the air as he drifted into the mists below. The water in these heights were a confusion, racing downward, seeking its stable marriage with the earth. The demon could not feel his extremities. It wasn’t until the tumbling ceased that he began feeling the sense of himself. The ways of the falling currents, freshets and brooks gathered in the lowlands, and with each addition, the demon felt new boundaries. The water was carrying him in its embrace and no struggle would release its charm. Once free of the toppling cascades, the edges of the river helped him collect and contain his sense of being.

He could not battle upstream, it was not the way with water, so he allowed the currents to guide him. The memories of his existance floated like parcels of matter to be eaten by the fish or forgotten in the silts. Time ceased again, for water has no need of it. The passage from grotto to ground was in the realm of gods. Water was a drop. It was a river. An ocean. The waves and currents moved freely, transcending motion.

The germ of the demon floated, lazed and dazed. One thought kept managing to return. Orange and gold waved in watery threads, pooling deep brown ... eyes. The vision departed in a fluid course only to return, a face this time, beaming with delight. The emotion was as elusive as the vision, but it kept weaving itself in his current. The concept of joy came across his being as he floated … “yes.” came a reply in his mind, the agreement in a voice as a woman’s, that echoed with the liquid embrace of the water. It was deep and resonant. He had heard the water and in water was life.

He heard the flux of agreement again.

The demon forgot about the past as it drifted away. Water was his most important element, and the twisted fluidity had invaded his mind. He let it absorb into him. Life was carrying him along. He let the visions therein instruct him.

The river began making its meandering way through the plains to the sea. The vibration and passage of water allowed him to be already there, he had to just find the contours and gather himself around his thought. The sea awaited and welcomed him into its embrace. The demon could have been lost like a mosaic, broken into its many bits, but the ocean held a new awareness in its vast expanse. He was not drops torn asunder and lost. He was the ocean. The ocean was him and the compulsive embrace of life. “Yes” came the female passion of the water.He felt the pull of the earth and the lust of the moon, seeking to pull the tides to its arid surface. This was a void but a void of life, and the possibilities were as numerous as the fish that schooled in its depths. There was a center to the demon, a glowing core that filled. A thickness that penetrated the female that flowed around him, through him. Life. “Yes.” He spent his fluids in the intoxicating embrace and became as one as he mixed with her.

“Yes”