The interior of the rectangle took on a milky light. A part of me wanted to bolt and run, but another part stood fascinated by the process. Unfortunately, it was the latter part that seemed to be in control. Graymalk stood like a shadowy statue, staring.
Deep within it then came a roiling, and I suppose it must be called a premonition, for suddenly that other part of me was in control again. I sprang forward, seized Graymalk by the nape of her neck with my teeth and sprang away to the right. Just as I did, a flare of lightning sprang from the rectangle and fell upon the area we had occupied but moments before. I stumbled, feeling a small shock, feeling my hair rise. Graymalk wailed, and the air smelled of ozone.
“I guess they’re kind of touchy,” I said, rising to my feet and falling again.
Then I felt the wind swirling about us, ten times stronger than it had been earlier. I tried again to get to my feet and was again knocked down. I glanced back at the stone, saw that the roiling had subsided, that another lightning bolt might not be imminent. Instead, a faint outline hung there, of a silver key. I crawled nearer to Graymalk. The wind increased in intensity. Somewhere, a voice came chanting, “Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Wood with a Thousand Young!”
“What’s happening?” she wailed.
“Someone opened a gate to provide means for expressing disapproval of your remark,” I suggested. “That’s done now, but the door hasn’t swung shut yet. That’s what I think.”
She leaned against me, back arched, ears flat, fur risen. The wind, stronger still, was pushing against us now, near to the point of irresistibility. I began to slide across the ground in the direction of the gate, dragging her with me.
“I’ve a feeling it’ll close too late!” she cried. “We’re going through!”
She turned then and leaped upon me, clinging with all four paws to my neck. Her claws were very sharp.
“We mustn’t separate!” she said.
“Agreed!” I choked, as I began sliding faster.
I was able to gather my feet beneath me as we moved. Rather than being pushed through, willy-nilly, some measure of grace might provide a survival edge.
It was easy to stop thinking of it as a rock wall that we were approaching, for there were obvious depths to it, though no clear features presented, and the image of the key had already faded. What lay beyond, I’d no idea; that we were going to go through, I’d no doubt. Better a little dignity then. . . .
Straightening my legs, I leaped forward. Into the breach. Into the mist. . . .
. . . Into the silence. Immediately, as we passed through, the sounds of wind and rainfall ceased. We did not come to rest upon a hard surface, or any other surface. We were suspended in a place of pearl gray light, or, if we fell, there was no sensation of falling. My legs were still extended, forward and back, as if I were leaping a fence, and while misty eddies and currents, faint as high clouds, played about us, my sense of motion was paradoxical; that is, by turning my head in any direction, I could create the feeling of pursuing a different vector.
I did turn my head to the rear in time to see the rectangle fade behind us, paling stones and grass within it. Dotted about the place where it had been, as well as about ourselves, droplets of rain and a few leaves and strands of grass hung in the air. Or perhaps we were all falling together, or rising, depending on…
Graymalk gave a little wail, then looked about. I felt her relax after that, then she said, “It is important that we not be parted here.”
“You know where we are?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m sure I will land on my feet, but I don’t know about you. Let me move around onto your back. We’ll both be more comfortable that way.”
She worked her way about my neck then, finally settling into a position behind my shoulders. She did retract her claws as she settled.