Keepers of the Flame

“Just a couple of minutes,” Elizabeth chanting herself.

“This ain’t good,” Bri whispered. She wondered if she should dial 911.

The elevator went up and up and up. The chanting and chimes and gong filled it.

There was a slight hesitation, then the upward motion continued.

“We’ve passed the thirty-fourth floor!” Elizabeth cried.

Bri shuddered. “Isn’t that the last one?”

The walls and ceiling vanished.

A wind whipped them into its grasp. They shrieked in unison. Bri wanted to drop her load and reach for her sister, but her fingers were frozen around the chest. She saw Elizabeth’s pale face, arms clutching the potato sacks.

They flashed through a rippling field of blinding rainbow light, an enveloping wave of sound. Nothing under Bri’s feet. She fell, jarred, as if she’d missed a couple of steps descending a staircase.

Her screams mingled with Elizabeth’s. They were together, at least. Chanting came around them, along with the chimes that pushed all Bri’s chakra buttons, the gong that had her dropping the chest and shuddering. She flung out her hand, found Elizabeth’s. They grabbed each other, clinging.

The chanting stopped. “Well, how about that,” said an accented voice. “Two for the price of one. And they brought spuds! Did we get this right, or what?”

Elizabeth hung on to Bri, who was trembling as much as she was. The chimes continued to rise and fall, touching her inside—her chakras if she was to believe Bri—stirring her. Everything echoed in her head: her thumping heartbeat—and her twin’s?—her ragged breath, whimpering.

Blinking again and again, Elizabeth saw a large circle of people surrounding them, holding hands. There seemed to be four different groups. Some obvious couples were dressed in matching colored tunics over chain mail and had a weapon at each hip. Others had silver or gold bands around their foreheads and wore long robes. A third group wore leather clothes and sheathed swords, a fourth bunch wore colorful pants and shirts or dresses. Most of the people appeared Asian. Golden skin, black hair with slightly different colored highlights, brown eyes. Silver or gold streaks in their hair at one or both temples. Beautiful features. Beautiful people.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Bri’s voice came in Elizabeth’s mind! She stared in shock at her sister.

Bri!

What!

I can hear you in my mind.

Me, too. A whisper.

“Welcome to Lladrana,” a woman said.

The gong sounded again and it was as if a surgeon clasped her beating heart. She and Bri screamed and swayed.

“It sounds as if they’re hurting. It’s not supposed to hurt that much, is it? I don’t recall. Marian!”

Elizabeth focused on the different voice. She saw a blue-eyed blond woman in leathers staring worriedly at her and Bri.

“Ohmygod,” Bri said thickly, turning her head. “Lladrana. I didn’t do it, twin!” Childhood words of utter truth tore from her. My itchy feet didn’t bring us here!

The chimes ran up and down the scale, once, twice…seven times. Noises wrung from Elizabeth merging with Bri’s. After the last tone reverberated, they huddled together on cold stones.

Bong! The final thump on the huge silver gong had them twitching.

Silence.

Shoving her sweaty hair away from her eyes, Elizabeth stared at the people again. They’d unlinked their hands.

Three women came to stand near them, outside a glowing green circle around a star on the floor. These three were Caucasian, though the tall, voluptuous woman with red hair and blue eyes appeared to have an Eastern European heritage.

She gestured and the green circle surrounding them subsided. “I’m Marian Harasta Dumont.” She touched a golden band around her forehead that showed lightning bolts and clouds, whorls that looked like wind, curvy waves. She, too, had a large streak of white in her hair. “I’m a Sorceress, called a Circlet of the Fifth Degree.

“Welcome to Lladrana, another dimension. We have Summoned you here on behalf of the Cities and Towns. A strange fatal illness has come and they requested medicas—doctors.”

Bri sat up straight, glowered at them, crossed her arms. Elizabeth kept her mouth shut.

The smallest person there, a woman with silver hair and wearing chainmail and hip sheaths spoke. “I’m Alexa Fitzwalter, come from Denver last year. I was an attorney. Here in Lladrana I am a Swordmarshall and use the Jade Baton of Honor.” She pulled out the baton. It flared green and silver and bronze. The flames atop it turned from metal to real.

Impressive.

Does her name sound familiar to you? Elizabeth asked Bri.

No, but attorney…would Uncle Trent have said something about her?

Maybe I want them to do all the talking, though, Elizabeth said.

Good plan.

The willowy blond cleared her throat. She wore a leather outfit. “I’m Calli Torcher Guardpont. I am the Volaran Exotique.” Her brief smile lit her face. “Flying horses.” She inclined her head to others dressed as she was, “and the knights who ride them, Chevaliers.”

I think I hit my head on the stones, Bri said.

Elizabeth turned to her and sent her fingers roaming over her sister’s skull. Without thought she drew power into herself, sent it flaring around Bri’s head, checking for any damage.

Breaths caught in gasps around them.

“You’re a doctor?” Alexa asked.

Neither of them answered. You’re fine. You have a hard head, Elizabeth said.

I’m having massive hallucinations.

You aren’t the only one.

“We know this sounds crazy, but it’s true,” Marian said. “We can prove you’re in another land. A place that needs you very much.” She pulled a stick about as long as her hand from her pocket. It grew and shaped into a wand. Then as Elizabeth watched, the piece of wood lengthened and thickened until it was a staff.

“They’re not believing us.” Marian sighed.

“It takes a while,” Alexa muttered.

“Yes, but it should be easier with a welcoming party like us,” Marian said.

Bri snorted.