Room11ac
Jora touches the surface of the white mirror and the surface rushes across the small band. The transition is cold, colder than the water in the river and they are left shivering upon the shore after the magic has completed its work.
The magic mirrors have disappeared as has the white door through which they entered.
“We must be on the right path,” Lamia says. “The door back has vanished.”
“Are we sure that it’s safe to hail that skeleton?” Conrad doesn’t appear enthusiastic about their choice.
“Who cares,” Lamia says. “I just want to get off of this horrible beach.”
“Do we really have a choice?” Jora steps to the edge of the water and raises his hand to beckon the boatman.
“Boatman, we require passage,” he shouts.
The black-cloaked figure stands and takes up a long paddle. The boat turns toward the shore and approaches rapidly.
The boat grinds ashore and the skull-faced pilot steps over the gunwale and splashes ashore. A bony hand is held out and the creature stares at Jora.
After a second, Jora remembers the coin. “Of course, here is your payment.”
The coin is dropped into the skeletal hand and the fingers wrap around it. The coin disappears as if it had never existed and the boatman gestures toward the boat.
“You have observed protocol,” it says. Jora cannot fathom how the creature speaks with neither lips nor tongue. “Board the vessel and I shall ferry you across the river.”
Jora looks to the rest of the group who appear hesitant. “Get aboard.”
Lamia and Conrad scramble over the sides of the ancient watercraft. Safir splashes into the shallow water and Jora offers her his hand. He steadies the girl as she climbs into the boat.
“Why thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure.” Jora jumps over the gunwale and sits on a moss-covered bench beside Safir.
The boatman climbs aboard and pushes away from the shore.
“Long has it been since I have ferried the living anywhere. My normal cargo is the departed souls of this place.”
The boatman lapses into silence and paddles the boat further into the river.
“What does he mean, departed souls?” Conrad whispers in Jora’s ear.
“I think he’s the boatman who ferries the dead to the afterlife.”
“Will you ferry us if we die?” Conrad sounds honestly curious.
“Once, many times, who can tell.”
Conrad opens his mouth but decides to not ask for clarification of the cryptic answer.
The passage continues in silence, the only sound is the gentle splash of the paddle in the water. The boat soon approaches the far beach and soon grinds ashore.
The boatman leans on his paddle and gestures toward the shore.
The small group rushes away from the skeletal boatman and gathers safely on the shore.
“We shall meet again, soon enough,” the boatman says and rows away from shore.
“What did he mean by that?” Safir’s eyes are wide.
“It’s probably better not to think about it,” Jora says. “Let’s get out of this place.”
What choice should the adventurers make?