The Dark Glory War by Michael A. Stackpole Page B

name won it for him; it’s easier that way.” I nodded to him. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
    Nay touched the emblem and the wall swallowed him.
    I hesitated for a moment, taking one last look around the room, and at the piles of clothes that we had worn into the place. We had been directed to shed that which marked us as who we had been, so we could become the men we were meant to be. I knew the Moon Month was part of that process, but stepping through the wall became an active rather than passive move. It made things come faster than I expected, and while part of me was pleased to be moving forward quickly, another part of me hoped I wasn’t running so fast I wouldn’t be able to keep up with my legs.
    I pressed my hand against the emblem and kept it there despite the tingling pains trickling into my fingers. It was a petty victory over Leigh, and one only made possible by seeing how he had reacted, but I was glad to have won it. Leigh had been a life-long companion and friend. His self-centered nature was something I had lived with forever, and I had learned to ignore the trivial and warn him away from the malignant manifestations of it, but there were times he could get under my flesh. I stored up little victories like this to salve my soul when he annoyed me.
    I stepped into the chamber and the wall sank to the floor behind me. It closed me in a tight chamber that felt hot and the air heavy. I could breathe, but as I expanded my chest, both it and my back touched the front and rear walls respectively. I could move my arms only an inch or two and shift my feet about the same. As the air thickened, I felt as if I’d been buried alive, and part of me wanted to scream.
    But I’d not heard Leigh scream, so I refused to surrender.
    The voice returned. “You have been chosen to join an elite assembly of men and women, most of whom you do not know and never will know. They all labor in the same cause, pulling in the same direction, to stave off the collapse of civilization into murderous barbarism. The correctness of their mission is not in question, merely your willingness to join them. Are you willing?”
    “I am.”
    “You, Tarrant Hawkins, will swear a solemn oath. If you betray us and reveal what you know of us, your right hand will wither, your right eye grow dark, your tongue will swell up to choke you, and your ears will bleed. Say it.”
    “I, Tarrant Hawkins, swear that if I betray the society and reveal what I know of it, my right hand will wither, my right eye grow dark, my tongue swell until it chokes me, and my ears bleed.”
    A golden glow began above my head, then descended over my body. It tickled as it moved down and in its wake left my limbs tingling as if they had been asleep. My legs could not support me and I went limp. Somehow the chamber adjusted for this and I quickly found myself seated on the floor, with my knees under my chin and my arms flopped around them.
    I should note that writing the words you are reading could be taken as a violation of my oath. My right hand remains strong, my right eye bright, my tongue has not swollen, and my ears do not bleed. I can only conclude that either the society never had the power to enforce that oath—something I do not believe—or that whatever mystical agent governs the oath does not consider what I am writing to be a betrayal.
    The heat built sharply in the chamber, then exploded into a twisting green torrent of fire. It swirled around me faster and faster, sucking the very air from my lungs. My robe burst into flames in a heartbeat, then my vision dimmed and the world went black.
    I awoke covered in sweat and bathed in a translucent blue glow. I still sat with my knees clutched to my chest, now utterly naked. I reached out with my right hand, moving only a couple of inches, and touched the glowing blue wall that defined the edges of my world. It felt firm and rasped slightly against my fingertips, but I sensed a fragility there as well. I pressed a finger