The swordsman proceeded to do so. To his surprise, he discovered that they had entered a blue-green chamber some twenty feet in diameter. The ceiling had also expanded, allowing poor Hunkapa Aub to straighten up at last. He stretched gratefully.
Simna found himself drawn to a seven-foot-wide zone of glistening aquamarine-tinted light. It formed a translucent mound that reached perhaps a fourth of the way to the ceiling. Extending a hand, he found that his fingers passed completely through the phenomenon, as would be expected of something that was composed entirely of colored light.
“What’s this? Some distortion in the corridor?”
“Not at all.” Taking his ease, Ehomba was unpacking some dried fruit from his pack. “That is a tomuwog nest.” When the swordsman drew his hand back sharply, his lanky friend laughed softly. “Do not worry. It is empty. It is the wrong time of the year.”
While Hunkapa Aub sighed heavily and stretched out on the floor, trying to work the accumulated cricks and contractions out of his neck and back, the black litah explored the far side of the enclosure. Realizing that he was hungry too, Simna rejoined his friend. Outside, beyond the walls of the enchanted chamber, blue-green antelope were methodically cropping blue-green grass, entirely oblivious to the presence of the four travelers conversing and eating not more than a few feet away.
“These tomuwogs,” the swordsman began, “what do they look like?”
“Not much.” Ehomba gnawed contentedly on dried pears and apples. “The tomuwog live in the spaces between colors.” Mouth half full, he gestured with his food. “That’s where we are. In one of the spaces between blue and green.”