G. Lippert - James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing

"Grawp!" Zane cried, struggling to catch his breath. "What're you doing?"

Grawp glanced down at the sound of Zane's voice, his expression quizzical. "Grawp hungry," he answered. "Grawp smell food. Grawp eat and wait. Little man comes back."

"Grawp, we're lost now! Titus won't even know where we are!" James said, trying to control his anger. Grawp stared at him, still crunching walnuts, his expression one of mild bewilderment.

"Never mind," Zane said. "Let him chomp some nuts, then we'll get him to carry us back the way we came." He plopped onto a nearby rock and examined the scrapes and bruises he'd gotten during the chase. James grimaced in annoyance. He knew there was no point in arguing with the giant.

"All right," he said tersely. "Grawp, just carry us back when you're done. Got it?"

Grawp grunted agreement, pulling one of the larger tree branches down to him so that it creaked ominously.

James wandered disconsolately toward the water's edge, pushing reeds and bushes aside. The lake looked more like a creek here, with only a narrow stretch of mossy water between the shore and one of the marshy islands. The island was wild, covered with densely packed bushes and trees. It had the look of a place that was underwater at least part of the year. Twenty feet away, a group of trees had fallen away from the island. James assumed they'd been pried loose from their watery roots by a recent storm. The scene was remarkably ugly and foreboding in the shadowy night.

James had just decided to turn back, worried that Hardcastle would be looking for them, when the moon came out. As the silvery light spread across the woods, James stopped, a slow, gravid chill shaking him from head to toe. The crickets had fallen suddenly and completely silent. James felt rooted to the spot, frozen except for his eyes, which roamed the surrounding woods. The silence of the crickets wasn't the only change. The perpetual, myriad flashes of the fireflies had also ceased. The wood had gone completely and suddenly still in the wash of moonlight.

"James?" Zane's voice came, tentative in the sudden, oppressive silence. "Is this… you know… normal?" He joined James at the edge of the lake. "And what's the deal with that place?"

James glanced at Zane. "What place?" He followed Zane's eyes, and then gasped.

The island that lay just off the shore had changed. James could tell that no individual part of it was different, exactly. It was just that, what had appeared as totally random trees and bushes a minute before, now, in the silvery moonlight, looked much more like a hidden, ancient structure. There was the unmistakable suggestion of pillars and gates, buttresses and gargoyles, all crafted out of the island's natural growth as if it were a sort of incredibly complex optical illusion.

"I do not like the look of that joint," Zane said emphatically, his voice low.

James looked further. The group of trees that had fallen across the water, connecting the island to the shore, had changed as well. James could see that there was order to them. Two of them had fallen together so that they formed what was obviously a bridge. The bridge was even stylized, fashioned to resemble a gigantic dragon's head. A brown rock jutting from the upturned roots served as the eye. Two more trees, only half collapsed, formed the open upper jaw, jutting out over the bridge as if to snap down on anyone that attempted to cross.

James walked carefully toward the bridge.

"Hey, you're not going in there, are you?" Zane called. "That doesn't look so healthy to me."

"Come on," James said, not looking back. "You said you wanted adventure and really wild stuff."

"Well, actually I think I just want those things in little bitty doses. I had enough with that crazy monster we saw already, if you don't mind."

James skirted an outcropping of bushes and spindly trees and found himself standing at the mouth of the bridge. Closer to, it was even more perfect. There were handrails formed by fallen birches, smooth and easy to grip, and the two trees that formed the floor of the bridge were so close together, with vines and leaves packed between them, that they made an easy walking surface.

"Fine, stay here," James said, not really blaming Zane for his reluctance. The mystery of it was strangely attractive to James, though. He stepped onto the bridge.

"Ahh, sheesh," Zane moaned, following.

On the island side of the bridge, a complicated growth of vines and small trees had formed into a set of tall, ornate gates. Beyond them was impenetrable shadow. As James crept closer, he could see that the vines formed a recognizable pattern across the gates.

"I think it spells something," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "Look. It's a poem, or a rune or something."

As soon as he was able to make out the first word, the rest sprang into view, as if he'd just had to train his eye to see it. He stopped and read aloud:

When by the light of Sulva bright

I found the Grotto Keep;

Before the night of time requite

Did wake his languid sleep.

Upon return the fretted dawn

With not a relic lossing;

Bygone a life, a new eon,

The Hall of Elders' Crossing.

Something about the poem made James shudder.

"What's it mean?" Zane asked when he'd read it over twice.

James shrugged. "Sulva is an old word for 'moon'. I know that. I think the first part just means you can only find this place when the moon shines on it. That's got to be true, because when I first saw it in the dark, it just looked like some ugly old island. So this must be the Grotto Keep, whatever that is."

Zane leaned in. "What about this part? 'Upon return the fretted dawn'. Sounds like we're supposed to come back when the sun comes back up, eh? Sounds pretty good to me."

Ignoring Zane, James wrapped his hands around the gates and gave them a hard yank. They rattled woodenly, but didn't budge. The action seemed to trigger a response from the island. A sudden, creeping sound came from beneath the boys' feet. James glanced down, and then jumped backwards as tendrils of thorny vines grew up from underneath the bridge. The vines twined through the gate, weaving up it with a noise like a newspaper in a fire. The thorns were an ugly purple color, as if they might contain some sort of venom. They grew longer as James watched. After a minute, the gates were completely entwined with them, obscuring the words of the poem. The noise of their growth died away.

"Well, that settles that, then," Zane said in a strangely high voice. He was standing behind James, backing away slowly. "I think this place wants to be left alone, don't you?"

"I want to try one more thing," James said, pulling his wand out from beneath his cloak. Without really thinking about it, he aimed his wand at the gate. "Alohomora."

There was a streak of golden light, and this time, the result was immediate and powerful. The gates repelled the spell, obliterating it in a burst of sparks, and the entire island seemed to shiver, to tense menacingly. There was a sound like a thousand people suddenly breathing in, and then a voice, an entirely inhuman, swarming sort of voice, spoke.

"Get… Thee… Hence!"

James stumbled backwards at the vehemence of the response, tumbling into Zane and knocking them both to the floor of the bridge. The bridge shuddered beneath them, and then James saw that the gates were swaying, leaning over them. The trees overhead, the ones that were fashioned to appear as the upper jaw of the dragon's head bridge, were creaking down, looming, their broken branches looking more and more like teeth.

"Get… Thee… Hence!" the island said again. The voice sounded like it was comprised of millions of tiny voices, whispering and raspy, speaking in unison.