When I was a few feet away, fingers wrapped around my neck and squeezed. Pain shot down my spine, and as I whirled once again, with Chopper raised to slash, the fingers tightened instead of letting go.
Fear flooded me. I kicked and swung with Chopper at the same time, guessing at where the body and the arms attached to those invisible fingers would be.
Again, my blade sliced through something, but there were too damn many of those somethings. Even as I severed one of two grips on my neck, more fingers wrapped around my ankle. With a swift, powerful tug, they pulled me off my feet.
I braced myself to land on my back, but I never hit the floor. Instead, my momentum halted two feet above it, and the fingers pulled me toward the box. The purple light brightened, and I envisioned some creature waiting to eat me if I was sucked into it.
Now horizontal in the air, I kept swinging. The positioning was awkward, but desperation gave me extra strength. Chopper sliced through the entity that still had a grip on my neck. I gasped in air and lunged into a sitting position so I could swing toward the thing pulling me by the ankle. My toes were inches from the box now.
“Thorvald!” Willard barked from behind me. “What do I shoot at? I can’t see what has you.”
“The box!” I slashed at the air an inch from my boot but didn’t connect with anything. The fingers had me from underneath. I twisted and stabbed.
My thrust drove Chopper’s tip into the side of the box, and purple sparks flew. The blade didn’t dig in or otherwise damage it.
“I can’t see a box.” Willard sounded like she was only a few feet away.
I had no idea how to ask her to help. Then Sindari charged in from the side, roaring as he swiped at the box. Claws screeched against metal. He rammed the box with his shoulder, and the lid fell shut. The purple light disappeared.
Finally, I slashed through what held me, and I crashed to the floor. I sprang to my feet, whipping my blade through the air around me, certain more fingers would grab me. This time, I connected with nothing, but nothing else grabbed me either. Dare I hope that Sindari closing the lid had been all it took?
Willard stood a few feet away, a hand up, as if she’d wanted to grab me but couldn’t with me swinging Chopper around like a loon.
Sindari growled, and I turned to find purple mist forming all around the box. I leaped back, almost crashing into Willard, and pointed Chopper at it. For the encore, the cursed thing might explode.
Sindari lifted a paw, ready to take another swipe at it, though all his first attack had done was close the lid. The box faded before my eyes, much as Sindari did when he disappeared from this realm, and then it was gone.
3
“What the hell is going on?” I demanded to the empty air where the box had been. The shadows had also disappeared, and the sensation of magic crawling over my skin slowly faded.
Sindari shook his head, as if driving out the memories of his battle. I assumed he’d also been dealing with invisible hands grabbing him. Had they knocked over the shelving unit, or had he backed into it?
As I said, this place reminds me of the haunted world. Sindari sat on his haunches, eyeing the corner where the box had been.
“You tell me,” Willard said. “It looked like you were shadow boxing. If we hadn’t seen something yank you into the air and pull you toward the corner, we would have thought you’d gone crazy.”
“I suppose I should be reassured you don’t already think I’m crazy.” As the fog disappeared, I lowered Chopper.
“I do have questions about that, but you’re already seeing a therapist, so she can work on your issues and medicate you as needed.”
“Ha ha. We talk about my relationships with people and dragons, not my sanity.” I poked the air where the box had been.
“I’m surprised that doesn’t come up.”
The lights flickered, then came back on. The artifacts room once again looked and felt like the normal basement storage area that I remembered.
“I’ll get the inventory list and see what’s missing,” Brisco said.
“Wait.” Willard gripped his arm, then pointed toward a spot where the ceiling met another corner. A camera was pointed in our direction. “Is that one of ours?”
Brisco eyed the compact black unit. Two other cameras were visible, larger cameras with wiring that disappeared into conduits running along the wall and up through the ceiling. This one didn’t match those.
“No.” He strode toward it.
“You’re going to have to tell me more about this haunted world,” I told Sindari.
“Haunted world?” Willard asked. “Nagnortha? The burial realm?”
That is its name, Sindari told me.
“Or you’re going to have to tell me more about it.” I pointed at Willard.
“It’s referenced in a lot of books and scrolls we’ve gained access to over the years,” she said. “The dragons found it first but decided that the underworld taint—as the scrolls called it—made it an unappealing place to hunt. Eventually, trolls, ogres, and orcs learned to make portals to Nagnortha and used it as a burial ground. They believed the magic of the place granted power to those interred there, so they could survive the dangers of the afterworld. Some say that the dead exist close to reality there and that deals may be struck with them. If you would like to be turned into a zombie lord, that’s the place to go.”
“I bet that’s a big selling point in the tourism brochures.”
I have been to Nagnortha, Sindari told me as Brisco found a crate to stand on so he could reach the camera. It is a wild world with much to hunt, but it is also very strange. Some say that its dimensional anchor is weak and that it slips in and out of its place in time and space. If you are there when that happens, you might be lost forever.
“Lost and zombified. There’s no end to the possible bullet points that can be put on those brochures.”
Willard, who hadn’t heard Sindari’s telepathic comment, raised her eyebrows.
“Never mind. Is there any chance that box came from this Nagnortha?” I asked, the question for either of them.
“I never did see a box.” Willard looked around, gaze lingering on the upended shelving unit and the artifacts and books on the floor. “All I see is a mess.”
“I think it was trying to suck me into it… or into somewhere.” Somehow, I suspected the box had wanted to do more than shut me inside and close the lid.
It is possible that it came from Nagnortha, Sindari said, but as you know from my charm, there are many races with magic that can make artifacts that allow travel between realms and dimensions.
You think that’s what it was trying to do? Take me to another realm or dimension?
It seemed that way.
Willard walked toward the mess on the floor, bent, and picked up a couple of pieces of something.
“How would a thief that we believe is from our world get a magical artifact like that box?” I wondered. And had she deliberately placed it there to trap me? To drag me off to… where? That haunted world? Another dimension? A place where I would land in a cage and she would be waiting to take Chopper from me?
Willard returned and held open her hand. Two finger bones—they appeared too long to belong to a human—lay on her palm, the ends sliced off on one side. Where Chopper had cut through them?