He felt rather than saw the door begin to open, and a sighing like a great rush of wind swirled around him: it was a mixture of relief and triumph. The shifting design became frenetic. A dark line appeared at the edge of the door as it moved but Ibris found himself struggling against some unseen resistance. Briefly he felt himself to be the pawn between two great forces, but it was of no import; he was committed.
With unbearable slowness the door opened and the dark line at its edge deepened and spread, as if a great blackness were beginning to seep around it.
A spasm of panic — no, terror — suddenly seized him, tearing the breath from him.
Then a hand seized his wrist and pushed the door forward irresistibly.
The door slammed shut with an echoing boom, and the blackness vanished.
Ibr
