SECTION 10
Even so, no matter how much I think of my father, I cannot surrender my soul. It’s too much, and I’m not even guaranteed of success. There must be another way to get to Amber, a way that doesn’t require such an enormous sacrifice. I can’t believe Katyrina is my only link.
Then again, maybe I can force her to send me. Surely six burly fighters can demand of a small, thin woman that she do anything we ask. Turning to Tom, I nod and point towards Katyrina. He nods in return, disappears back into the living room, and comes back with four of our men. The other, he tells me with his eyes, is standing guard.
“No dice, Katyrina,” I declare, my voice firm and unwavering. “My soul is too important to me, and there are other ways for you to make up for a few years. But I want to go to Amber anyway, and these men are going to help me. Send us now, Katyrina, or we will force you to do so. Do you understand?”
Eyes open wide in shock and (I think) fright, Katyrina jumps to her feet. “I understand,” she says. “You would use force, is that it?” At my nod, she walks towards me and raises her hand in a gesture of peace. “That won’t be necessary,” she continues. “I will do as you wish.”
Bingo! We’ve done it, another victory for sheer intimidation. I don’t feel completely right about doing it, but it sure beats giving away my soul. We’ll get to Amber, and that’s the only important part. If everything goes well, I can always come back and repay Katyrina in one way or another. Maybe I’ll send her on a Caribbean cruise. Hell, she’s pretty good looking, maybe I’ll take her on one myself.
“Come with me,” she says, and she walks out. Through the living room we march, Tom racing down the stairs to call in the others. Within a few minutes all of us are assembled outside the bedroom door, which Katyrina opens with a quick turn of the knob.
Inside, a dull blue light illuminates a room with no furniture. Opposite me is a window, but thick Venetian blinds cover it completely, keeping the blue light out of sight of the street. On the walls hang tapestries of various hues and sizes, the scenes on them ranging from smoking volcanoes to knights in black armor to black clouds filled with black rain. In the center of the room, a small circular door is carved into the floor. A little larger than a manhole cover, the door clearly leads down.
Katyrina reaches for the notch and pulls up. It opens slowly to one side and stands perpendicular to the floor.
Once it is open, I peer down through the hole. Only blackness greets me.
“What’s all this?” I ask. “Where does this lead?”
“To Amber,” Katyrina replies. “That is where you want to go, isn’t it?” To my nod, she adds, “Of course, the door leading down isn’t exactly necessary, but as a piece of staging it’s very effective. Do you recognize what this room is modeled after?” The smile on her face is enchanting even in my fear.
“No,” I mumble. “Not at all.”
“Strange,” she says, almost to herself. “I’d have thought you would.” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, “The film version of Dr. Faustus. With Burton and Taylor. Do you remember it? I always thought it was very effective, so I adopted the idea.”
Of course. Richard Burton as the doctor who sold his soul to the devil, about to descend into hell in payment. A man beyond all hope of redemption, a man unable to understand the enormity of the consequences of his actions. A grotesque, ugly, huge hole in the middle of the room, with Mephistopheles drawing him down into hell. All told, one of the most frightening scenes I ever remember. Half in curiosity and half in terror, I look down into the hole.
For a full minute I see nothing. Then, suddenly, a blackness begins to roil toward me, carrying with it the horrendous stench of rotting and burning flesh. I stagger, and begin to turn away. But something is holding me, something that will not let me go, and against my will I stand rooted to my place. Up, ever up, the blackness roils on, and as it comes, my brain goes dark. As the reek of death carries me beyond consciousness, I fight for one last look into the dark. There, below me, hideous outside the realm of human acceptance, a vision of chaos swims before my eyes. Screaming, I fall inside.
Turn to Section 29.