*We knock and walk in, it’s either an invitation or a trap and we won’t know which till we know.* The voice in his mind sounded more like Iffrit now.
So he walked up the frost heaved stone steps into the cemetery and across the grass to the mausoleum. As he did the sun dimmed, the cold that seemed to swirl around his ankles rose up his legs and the misty distortion drew in till he stood in a cotton cocoon, the green streaked rough gray of the crypt smelled damp and musty, the crying Madonna seemed to be peeking down at him with eyes that promised malice.
The twin narrow doors were verdigris green and looked like they had been sealed an age ago. But for all the omens of doom Elgin felt almost comfortable as he reached out and pushed in, on a door that had obviously been designed to be pulled out. And in the little universe he and the pseudo crypt inhabited the door and frame slipped in slightly then fell down till it thumped to a stop, revealing a set of well kept, well lit stone steps.
He stepped over the door block and started down the steps, the walls were stone block, arching up to a barrel ceiling and the light came from a glowing strip down the center of the vault, an interesting mix of ancient and modern. Not making any effort to be particularly quiet, he was as watchful and careful as he could be. He counted almost forty steps, something more than thirty feet below ground level when he stepped into a groin vaulted stone vestibule, three wooden doors, and the steps all faced into the center of a square space.
As he walked down he’d felt connected to his world, the anchor world, but now he felt chaos all around, this apparently solid room was an electron diameter thick shell of almost reality between him and raw chaos. Iffrit - Cutter were close now, looking out of his eyes but also ‘seeing’ in ways that didn’t require eyes.
*A hiding place,* The Iffrit said in satisfaction.
*His hiding place,* Cutter agreed
“It looks like a puzzle to me guys, and a trap.”