[Envinyatar]

There was a cold breeze that swept out from the inner chamber as Orëmir pushed mightily against the door once again. A deathly chilling breeze. ‘Lindir! Are you alright?’

No voice issued from beyond the crack. Tentatively, Orëmir reached out with his mind to Lindir. Not dead! he gasped in relief. But he feared the man’s spirit had withdrawn again, deep within himself. And given the frail condition of his body, he worried that Lindir would break the connection in his panicked state and die.

There was no way he could open the door. It had moved as far as the sea of skulls and bone behind it would allow. In frustration, Orëmir gave a final push, moving it but a hair’s width . . . just enough for a single jawless skull to come rolling out.

Tired, he sat down in front of the door, his back leaning against it. He strengthened the link between himself and Lindir, willing the man to hold steady.

Run! Run! I cannot . . . cannot get away . . . Lindir’s thoughts were frantic.

Here I am, my friend . . . Orëmir’s words were soothingly spoken. And look! I’ve found us a way from this darkness. See . . . just there . . . a doorway, and beyond, a pleasant garden where we might wait for the others . . .

He drew Lindir’s scattered thoughts in with his own, giving him an image they might wander about in. It was his mother’s garden;a place he knew well, a place of happy memories. But they must come soon – the others. Left too long to wander, even he might forget the way. Then both he and Lindir would be lost . . .