Tales Of Corwin

Upstairs, she roused Mark from his recliner. “Mark,” she said. “Mark Lucifer! I need you in the basement. Something strange is going on down there.” Mark’s eyes popped open. Her tone of voice must have told him something serious was afoot. “Just a minute,” he said. It took more than a minute, of course; Mark was unable to do anything quickly these days. He pushed aside the blanket and worked his way out of the chair and onto his feet. Sandra helped him into a zip-up fleece jacket—he never tried to pull anything on over his head these days—and he stepped into his slippers. Finally ready, he followed her down to the basement. “Okay,” he said, “What’s going on?” “Well: I was just tending to my flame, and thinking along, and I had a visit from my spirit friend. She led me to a strange place in the basement, a place I never knew was here. I hope it’s still there, or you’ll think I’m crazy.” She led him back to the place. The door was still there, thanks be. “There!” she said. “Has that door always been here?”