Ascalon?" said Gideon in a sinking voice. This was not what he had wanted to hear. He was expecting to find out he was in some small, out-of-the-way town, perhaps in Ohio. Suddenly, nausea flooded his stomach.
"I don't feel too well."
"Hmmm," said the gnome reflectively as he studied Gideon's reactions with widened eyes. "Ragan said that the outworlder would probably suffer from severe disorientation and incredulity, but I never thought that it would be this severe."
"Severe!" shouted Gideon, who was beginning to draw attention to himself with his raving. "You're telling me that I'm not in my state, my country, hell, not even on my goddamned planet. Of course, I am going to go a little nutty. I must be dreaming! I've got to be!"
"Please control your outbursts, John Gideon," said Pyne sternly. "Try to accept the fact that you have been physically transported to another world. It will be easier for you further on down the road."
Suddenly, Gideon shot forward in his chair and said, "And why should I believe in you, this place, everything? How do I know that I'm not still unconscious? Maybe I'm in a coma in some hospital somewhere. I've heard of people having some real wowsers when they're in a coma. What you are asking me to believe is something unbelievable!"
"Well, I've done what I was asked to do," replied the gnome with a noncommittal shrug. His smile was gone now. "You will either come to grips with your circumstances or not. However this turns out, my part in this immediate business is almost complete. I must be leaving you now. I am very busy, and I cannot afford to loiter on White Council business forever. I do have lands to govern to some extent, you know. Yes, I must get back to Noordlindian. Only the Erradans know in what condition my councilors and my eldest son have put my city by now. Well, good-bye, young fellow. Perhaps you will visit me when you are more accustomed to your surroundings."
With that, Pyne waved good-bye, said a few words, made a subtle gesture, and began to shimmer, then glow, and then slowly disappear.
"Wait!" shouted Gideon after the fading gnome. "Where are you going? You can't leave now! What do I do now?"
"Just wait for Ragan, young fellow," replied Pyne. The little man had almost disappeared, and his words came as a whisper. "He'll be along very soon, I suspect, and he'll take charge of you. Be at ease, John Gideon. You will be safer with him than with anyone you have ever known in your world."
And with that, he was gone.
Gideon stood motionless for a moment, his jaw slack in wonder. He could not explain this latest feat. A hologram? Possibly, but where did it project from, and why couldn't he see the telltale blue lights of it?
It was about this time that Mara and Bessa came back into the room. Gideon sat back in his chair and stared pensively at them as they caught a moment's rest after making the meals. Bessa smiled warmly to him as she wiped the bar while Mara leaned against the wall and stared directly at him. Slowly, he returned the smile.
Just then, the front door opened and in stepped a tall man, well over seven feet in height, with powerfully built limbs and a handsome but rugged face, accented by a close-trimmed black beard that was flecked with gray.
It's the guy I nearly ran over on Earth!
He was clad in a wine-red robe that split on each side below the hip. Along its edges were embellished silver-and-black designs that stood out boldly on the red field. His hand appeared powerful and strong as it clasped the jeweled pommel of a long, gleaming sword that hung menacingly on an ornate leather belt at his side.
"You!" said Gideon loudly to the stranger and pointed at him. "Hey, you! I want to talk to you, buddy."
The bearded man's blue-gray eyes turned on Gideon, and Gideon felt like he'd been hit with a sledgehammer. There was almost a physical force behind the man's gaze, and he had to admit, when this man looked at you, he looked at you with all his attention.
Slowly, the man came over to his table, blocking out the view, and replied, "And I wish to talk to you too, John Gideon."
"Who are you, buddy?" asked Gideon. "And why the hell are you interfering with my life?"
The man met his stare, seemingly unperturbed by Gideon's posturing. He replied in a rich, deep, commanding voice, "I am Ragan the Red, an archmaster of the Red Lodge. I come and go as I wish, and I have come for you, John Gideon. I am not interfering with your life, but there are others, those unknown to you, who would see you dead at any cost. You are in great danger, my friend, and whether you believe in this world or not, I am one of the few who can help you."
"I really don't think I need your help. Thank you." Gideon chuckled. "I spent three years in the military, and I'm a black belt in martial arts and Jeet Kune Do. I'm used to being attacked by people I don't know."
The big man didn't seem impressed. He sniffed disdainfully and said, "You have some fighting skills. Good. You will need them. However, do you have protections from magic? You will need that to stay the hand of the Dark One's minions."
"If they are alive, I can deal with them," said Gideon nonchalantly. "Nice try, Ragan the Red, but I don't need magic because there is no such thing. It's all just hokey sleight of hand and mass hypnosis. No. Thank you, but no. This is all some crazy, mixed-up coma nightmare I'm going to wake up from soon, and you will all be nothing but fading memories."
"Enough!" shouted Ragan in a voice powerful enough to rattle windowpanes and unsettle dust. For an instant, Gideon thought the man was growing in size with his anger. There was a flash of lightning and rumble of thunder from outside, and a gust of wind blew the door open. The patrons in the common room were still, and all talking ceased for a moment as if they were waiting to see what would happen next. "Enough of this prattle! I have been through too much on your behalf to listen to this nonsense."
Then the wizard gazed skyward as if asking for help from above. After a moment, he returned his gaze to Gideon and began to speak again. This time, his voice was soft and smooth and mellow. Gideon thought at that moment he sounded a bit like the singer Barry White.
"Listen, boy, and heed my words well," continued the giant. "I will attempt to answer all of your questions. Several months ago, I was given the task of retrieving a certain person from the world we call Kara, and you call Earth. I had been ordered by the Lords of Errada themselves to bring him here and look after him upon arrival. No questions asked. That certain person was you. Again, do not ask me why, for I do not yet know."
Gideon remained in a curious, quiet pose as he listened.
"For weeks, I tracked and trailed your life force through the astral plane until I could find a suitable place and time to affect the transport," continued Ragan. "Then, five days ago, you were on your way home through a particularly deserted stretch of road. It appeared so deserted, in fact, that I could create the time/space corridor without detection. Anyway, unbeknownst to me, I was tracked by one of the Ancient Ones, a great Lord of Chaos and Entropy named Sorgoth. Just as I was about to create the portal and guide you through, the ancient one hit me with such a powerful Essence bolt that I was cast out of Kara and back to Illúmaril like a rock from a slingshot."
As the wizard spoke, Gideon noticed, much to his displeasure, that Ragan's eyes began to glow faintly, like a dying ember or the eyes of a wolf caught in a light, and he seemed to grow even taller.
He shuddered.
The man—if indeed he could be called a man—did not seem entirely human.
"And those dog creatures? The gor…gor…?" asked Gideon.
"The gorghuan," finished Ragan. "The dogs of war or hounds of the abyss. They have many names. They were servants of the Dark One, sent to track and kill you."
Gideon shivered as he remembered the terrifying creatures.
"When you came through the gateway," continued Ragan, "there was an accident, and your car was destroyed. I found you on the banks of the Ainúrion