3. Old Magic
There was something of an awkward silence in the Granger's living room. Although they had shown him nothing but kindness, Harry felt Hermione's parents regarded his unannounced arrival about as welcome as Harry would a visit from the ghost of Voldemort enquiring about some unfinished business. As far as they were concerned Harry's appearance meant that their daughter was in danger and they were relying on him to do something about it.
Harry was only just coming to terms with the fact that not only had his desire to see his best friend again driven him here, but he was now convinced that Hermione had been calling out to him. How she was managing it he didn't know, and now he thought about it, it was certainly possible she could have been calling for some time. It would, he thought, give a whole new insight into his day-dreaming and trips down memory lane. Somehow they were an important link to Hermione, and not simply something of his own making. There was also Hermione's prediction to consider, however off-hand it was made, and however much the girl herself despised Divination, because if nothing else the last few years had taught Harry that prophecies carried a lot of weight. Taking everything into account, when he added it all up, Harry decided that somewhere there was trouble, trouble with a capital T, and his best friend was in it up to her neck
"When was the last time you heard from Hermione?" Harry asked the Grangers, he had to start his quest for his best friend somewhere. "Only she didn't reply to my letters."
"Your letters are still here Harry, the owls cannot deliver directly to Uluru," Natalie Granger answered, giving him a smile in the way of an apology, "I am afraid we didn't know how to pass them on, and so she didn't receive them." She glanced at her husband and he nodded for her to continue. "We had one from her about a month ago; it arrived by kangaroo, gave us a bit of a shock, hopped into the surgery and pulled the parchment right out of its pouch. Fortunately Shelia, our receptionist, didn't appear to be able to see it."
"The letter was just like all the ones she wrote to us when she was at Hogwarts, quite ordinary." Natalie sighed, "You know she never mentioned your adventures in any of her letters; she always waited until the holidays so that she could tell us in person." Natalie smiled to herself at the memory, and then realised that her mind was wandering. "Sorry," she apologised for her lapse and then continued, "Hermione said she was fine, and was quite excited about some research she was involved in."
"She tried to describe what she was doing but we made no real sense of it," said David butting in. "We found ordinary magic hard to understand at first but this dreamtime stuff is really complex. I suppose that's why Hermione found it so interesting."
"Dreamtime magic? I don't think I have ever heard of that," said Harry. "But you're right the more difficult and obscure the more Hermione would love it."
Despite his worry Harry couldn't help but smile as he thought of his best friend. Natalie saw his expression and caught her husband's eye. She knew there was more of a connection between her daughter and 'her Harry' than she had been led to believe. Apart from that last conviction that he, as her saviour, would come if she needed him, Harry had always been described as simply her best friend in all the world. Life being life, best friends would come and best friends would go, but Natalie Granger was sure that there was more than that here.
"Well I don't see any other way but to go directly to Uluru," said Harry as he pondered what he should do next. "I don't know anything about the Ministry of Magic here or even if they have one, so that's no help. I wonder what I have to do."
"You have to be invited," the voice was heavy with a native accent, and it originated from a small dark skinned man that was standing in the doorway.
His face was heavily lined, and his head crowned with short white hair, he wore a simple cotton smock that was long enough just to leave his bare feet uncovered. If the cut of the garment was plain, the designs on it were anything but. Brightly coloured dots and swirls covered its surface forming shapes and patterns that when the old man moved into the room produced such a bewildering display that it made Harry feel quite dizzy.
Harry wand was in his hand in an instant pointing unwaveringly at the aboriginal wizard.
"Professor Pindari!" cried Natalie, thank goodness you're here." At Mrs. Grangers' obvious recognition, and his own recollection of the Professor's name from Hermione's letter, Harry rather sheepishly lowered his wand.
Pindari nodded to the Grangers and then looked at Harry.
"Ah! The great Harry Potter," Harry had the grace to look surprised, "You doubt that even here on the bottom of the world we have not heard of you and your exploits." The old professor gave Harry a searching look, and for the second time in less than half an hour Harry knew he was being judged. "You must be a very powerful wizard, Harry Potter."
"Not powerful, not really." He replied. "I was very lucky, and had a lot of help from some very good friends."
"And it is one of those friends that brings you here."
"Yes," said Harry, "one of the best."
"More than one of the best, I am thinking, more than the best, isn't she Harry?" the old man didn't wait for a reply. "Because if she isn't you will never be able to save her.
The Grangers' reaction was instantaneous and predictable. Natalie dropped back into the chair she had risen from to greet the professor, her hand at her mouth and a look of anguish in her eyes. David renewed his grip on Harry's arm and had Harry not been stunned by Pindari's words he would have winced in pain. Instead an icy calm washed through him it had happened to him before, on each previous occasion he had faced up to Voldemort, and this situation was no less terrifying, in fact it was worse.
"What has happened to Hermione, and what do I have to do to bring her back to me?" Harry demanded in a clear voice, quite unaware of the intimacy he placed in his final question.
"She is lost in the Tjukurpa, the Dreamtime," the old wizard explained, "I cannot tell you any more here, but when you get to Uluru you will understand. As to what you have to do Harry Potter, only you can tell me that."
Harry looked back and forth between the Grangers and the professor, searching for the answer. "I must go and find her then, wherever it takes me," he said at last.
He found himself swept up in a fierce hug from Hermione's mother and he could feel her shaking with emotion.
"Thank-you Harry, thank-you," she partially released him so she could study his face, then she kissed him on the cheek, "Take my love with you to protect you both," she whispered in his ear. Harry shivered; there it was again, the unconditional love of a mother for her child, the memory surged through him, and a lump caught in Harry's throat. All those years ago his mother's love had saved him, he hoped against hope, that this time Mrs. Granger would be able to work the same magic.
David Granger shook Harry's hand, his grip was strong, and he was fighting the emotion that was threatening to spill forth. "Good luck Harry, bring my baby back."
"I will do my best Sir," Harry assured him.
"I know you will son, I know you will," Harry saw the single tear as it slipped from Mr. Granger's eye and rolled down his cheek.
Harry followed the gaudily dressed professor out onto the street and down the hill to the waters edge.
"Professor, do we apparate to Uluru?" asked Harry, as he watched the wizard searching the shore line for something that apparently only he could see.
"No boy, it is not possible, your myall magic …the magic of the strangers," he translated, "is not allowed near to Uluru. I search for the Dreaming Track of the Rainbow Serpent; if he will take us, it will save us much time. Ah!" At his exclamation Pindari thrust forward the decorated stick he was carrying. In the insubstantial air of a late Sydney morning a shimmering portal appeared, hovering just by the waterline it seemed to lead into a dark tunnel.
"Come Harry Potter," Pindari beckoned to him as he stepped through and vanished. Harry drew a deep breath and followed as quickly as he could. He was brought up short as he nearly collided with the professor who was standing very still only a few steps beyond the portal. The portal closed and the light vanished with it. In the darkness of the tunnel something was moving, it sounded quite large, and the professor was mumbling awkwardly in a sibilant tongue. Initially Harry could see nothing at all but from the words being spoken he guessed that the professor was attempting to reason with the Rainbow Serpent.
As Harry's eyes adapted to the dim light from the professor's stick the vague shape of the Rainbow Serpent became clearer, and then he began to wish it hadn't, because it materialised into something horribly familiar. Excepting that its brightly iridescent colours were very different, and the fact that staring into the creature's eyes had not petrified him, the Rainbow serpent resembled the Basilisk far too closely for Harry's liking. Pindari it seemed, was having some difficulty in reaching an agreement with the spirit.
"Kurreah does not wish to take you, you are an outsider, you are not worthy in his eyes." The professor was translating; Harry knew he was, because now he concentrated, he could understand exactly what the serpent was saying.
"Perhaps," said Harry in parseltongue, "If Kurreah, the Rainbow Serpent, knew that my intentions are honest and driven out of the love I have for my friend, who is trapped in the Dreamtime, he would be gracious enough to relent and carry us both to Uluru." Harry bowed his head in respect.
Professor Pindari was staring at Harry with his mouth open; he could not believe what he had just heard. The serpent merely inclined his head to Harry in a gesture of acknowledgement and nodded.
It was nothing like apparation and not at all like using a portkey. Harry could feel the miles flying by, but he could see nothing other than the Rainbow Serpent's undulating form before him. The journey was over in a matter of moments and Harry found himself standing along side Professor Pindari in the shadow of a gigantic red rock.
This was the spectacle that muggles travelled from all over the world to see, for them the magnificence of the place, and the wonderful colours that could come and go, were something that could be seen nowhere else. But they didn't see the half of it.
They didn't see the huge stone doors, which at this moment were slowly rumbling apart, right in front of Harry. They didn't see that the many openings in the stone face of Uluru led, not to small caves, but into large rooms. They did not see the corridors beyond the rooms, which wound their way through the rock always leading downwards to the heart of Uluru. They did not see any of this because like Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons the muggles were encouraged not to, but unlike the others Uluru was a tourist attraction and magnet for the muggles, so it was even more remarkable that this place remained a secret.
Professor Pindari had not spoken since Harry's chat with the Rainbow Serpent; he was busily readjusting his appraisal of the young wizard. He knew his character, that he was strong, loyal, and he had an innate sense of what was right and wrong. He had not considered that a foreigner would be connected to the Tjukurpa or that the spirits would recognise him. There was obviously far more to Harry Potter than met the eye, the stakes here could be much higher than he imagined.
Harry watched the old wizard as he rearranged his perceptions. "If you're wondering," Harry offered, "I am a parselmouth, I can speak to snakes. Not that I would consider Kurreah a snake," he added hurriedly in case he had caused offence, "but I could understand him, even though his accent made it rather difficult."
Pindari smiled, accepting that Harry, at least, believed his ability and honourable intentions had granted his passage to Uluru, but the professor knew that the spirits of the Dreamtime did things for purely their own reasons, and not at the pleading of a young foreign wizard, parselmouth or no.
They walked under the high arched doorway and entered the hallowed halls of Uluru. The great doors boomed shut behind them, and Harry found himself in a large entrance hall with many passages and doors leading from it.
"I suggest you change out of your travelling clothes," Pindari advised, "it can become quite warm in the lower levels." There is a selection of garments like this, in here," he said indicating his own smock and a small room to the side of the main doors, "it is the normal dress here, and it is best to blend in."
Harry understood, prejudice it seemed was a worldwide problem, whether it be against muggle born wizards, or simply foreigners like himself. He searched through the gowns in the rack, some of the patterning on them hurt his eyes, and eventually he selected one that was almost plain, the colour of which reminded him of his old Gryffindor robes. The only pattern that adorned this gown was a splash of colour on the chest, about the size of a dinner plate, it was made up of concentric circles of blue and then gold dots set around a central white spot. Harry felt he could cope with that and he stripped himself down to his boxers and slipped the smock over his head, it was like wearing very light wizarding robes and was most comfortable, there was even a convenient pocket for his wand. Not prepared to wander about in bare feet Harry replaced his socks and his boots; they were well hidden as the hem of his new robe swished about his feet less than half an inch from the floor.
Harry returned to the entrance hall to find that in his absence Pindari had been joined by another. She was some years older than Harry but still quite young, her dark skin much lighter than the old mans' and her features not as classically aboriginal, she held herself proudly and smiled somewhat condescendingly to Harry when the professor introduced her.
"Harry, this is Professor Binda Guru, she is the head of the department that Miss Granger was working in. She was there when the accident happened."
"How do you do," said Harry holding out his hand in the age old greeting. The returning hand was cold and fleetingly given. "Could you tell me what happened?"
She nodded then indicated that they should move on while she talked.
"I am afraid there was no one to blame but Miss Granger herself, far too headstrong, she never gave a moments thought to planning," said Professor Guru. "I had said as much to the professor only that morning. She broke the seal before we were ready, and well the results speak for themselves." Guru looked to the professor expecting nothing but confirmation.
Pindari was struggling to keep up with the longer stride of the woman and he had to hitch up his smock so that he didn't trip. "Professor Guru is correct Harry," he sounded slightly out of breath, "she did come to me on the morning of the accident and complain about Miss Granger's attitude."
"And so there it is Mr Potter, your friend is irrevocably stranded in the Tjukurpa, the Dreamtime has her, and will never let her go." Harry decided that he wasn't all that fond of this professor, he found her supercilious and irritating, but he let her continue uninterrupted. "Since this regrettable accident my work has been at a stand still and I cannot waste any more time on this matter, my project is behind schedule, and I must be allowed to continue my work."
During Guru's denouncement of Hermione's abilities, and her carelessness in wrecking the doctors time schedule, they had walked away from the entrance down a gently sloping passageway, Harry realised that they must be a considerable distance below ground level by now. The young professor stopped at a point where another passage branched off. "I must leave now; if you have any further questions then my assistant Nara will answer them." She clicked her fingers and a young girl appeared out of the shadows, she looked very nervous and embarrassed to be in the august company of her superior, and only lifted her eyes to give Harry a shy smile as Professor Guru turned and strode away.
"Well…" said Harry as he watched Guru disappear around a bend in the passage. "I don't wish to go against a member of your staff Professor, but she is not talking about the Hermione Granger I know." Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Nara looking most uncomfortable and shuffling back away from the light, he knew there was something fishy going on here and he was determined to find out what it was.
Pindari was keeping his own council for the moment; he too had not recognised Professor Guru's version of Hermione, not from his meetings with her, but until Harry had expressed his doubts as well, the professor had only his own feelings to go on, not enough to challenge his colleague, for Guru had many friends in high places. Never the less he needed to find the truth behind all this and he decided to leave Harry to his own devices.
"I will look into this more Harry, but I am afraid I can give you no more advice than I did this morning. You must act as you think fit, Miss Granger's plight is grave but if anyone has a chance to bring her back it is one who can speak with the spirits."
Harry began to feel that he was getting out of his depth. Voldemort was evil but at least he was corporeal, well he was eventually; dealing with nebulous beings from a culture he didn't understand was something else. No wonder Hermione thought it was fascinating, it was mind boggling and now the professor was gone he needed help.
His help was trying very hard not to be noticed by this tall, foreign wizard, with a reputation so fearsome that even mild little Nara had heard of him. She actually knew far more about Harry than anyone in Uluru, because she had been Hermione's companion during her time here, and Hermione had liked to talk about him and their adventures.
Nara wished she could be as brave as the students in Hermione's stories maybe then everything would be different and Hermione would be safe. She had failed her friend for she knew far more about the supposed accident than anyone, except Binda Guru, but she had told no one, because she was scared to death of her superior, and what she had done.
"Could you take me to where Hermione had her err… accident, please Nara?" Harry asked gently. He had assessed the girl correctly, a single shout or raised voice and she would be off.
As Harry followed Nara further into the bowels of the earth, he was blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that was coursing through her. She had been so proud to be selected out of all the students to assist the famous Professor Guru; the story of her eminent boss was well known to all in Uluru. The youngest to rise to a chair and take the title of professor, the completion of an immense task that took the better part of seven years, culminating in the discovery of the chamber, the pictograms, and the doorway that led to Tjukurpa, but the public face of Professor Guru was not all there was to know.
* * *
Nara had worked with Professor Guru for the last six months, reading and recording the pictographs in the chamber. The student worked in silent awe of her superior, who was so methodical and such a stickler for correct procedures, that it came as quite a shock to Nara to be invited to visit the professor's private rooms. She found, when she arrived, that she wasn't the only one in attendance, there were two men present as well and Nara vaguely remembered seeing them in the final excavation team that had uncovered the door to the chamber.
For a short while there was polite conversation and Nara began to relax in the company of the adults. She basked in the praise that the professor gave her for the work she was doing, the men, introduced to the girl as Keli and Edi, appeared suitably impressed that one so young had an apparently natural ability to read and interpret the pictographs that they had been instrumental in uncovering.
Nara began to feel a little light headed, she had noticed that the air in the room was quite heavily dosed with a fragrance that she did not recognise, but as Uluru could be a little damp in the lower levels using scented air was quite common. So, slightly befuddled, Nara missed the glance that the professor exchanged with the men who, rising to their feet, excused themselves and disappeared into the next room. She was quite at ease when the professor led her to a chair set in front of a curtained off area of the professors sitting room, and she sat dreamily as the professor disappeared, following Kali and Edi into the next room.
She became aware of a strange buzzing sound issuing from behind the curtain, this made her sit up, she was afraid of flying insects, there was no reason for it, it was just one of those things. But her fear was forgotten as the reed curtain parted and her eyes beheld a strange sight. Kali and Edi were dressed in weird costumes that Nara recognised from the pictographs as those worn by acolytes of the spirit Marmoo and they were supporting the professor who was not dressed in anything much at all. The woman appeared to Nara to have shrunk in size then she realised that Guru was standing in a hollow in the floor that was full of water reaching halfway to her knees.
Guru was intoning the words of a mantra, calling out to someone or something, the buzzing sound intensified, and Nara's fear returned. She felt a presence in the room other that of those she knew to be there, it was hovering before her, the buzzing sound it made was angry, making her want to run away, but she found she could not move. The pain she felt was intense, it flashed through her head probing and seeking then withdrawing as quickly as it had attacked, it lasted only a second or two, just long enough for the girl to scream once and pass out.
The professor and her followers remained still and quiet, the tableau looking quite surreal, then the professor scowled.
"Get me out of this thing," she ordered, and the men lifted her out of the pool and on to solid ground again. Guru walked over to the unconscious girl, leaving wet footprints on the floor. "It didn't work, Marmoo tried but there is something protecting her," she cupped Nara's chin in her hand and lifted her head to stare at the girls face. "There is still time, we can try again; perhaps the aromatics were not sufficient," Guru vocalised her thoughts in a low mumble. She let go of Nara and turned to Kali and Edi. "Put her back over there," she pointed to the seat the girl had occupied before, "and get everything cleaned up."
When Nara opened her eyes she found the professor kneeling over her, "Are you alright, my dear," Guru said sweetly, "You nodded off to sleep, nearly dropped your goblet."
"Oh! I am sorry professor," the girl apologised, "I must have been more tired than I thought."
"No Nara the fault is mine, keeping you this late after a hard day's work," the professor was kindness itself. "Off you go, and get a good night's sleep."
Nara rose and headed for the door, "Yes professor, thank-you professor," she said, as she bowed herself out of the presence of her superior.
Professor Guru's countenance slipped from a smile to a deep frown the instant the girl departed, she had such supreme confidence in her own abilities that she felt that this whole procedure should not be so difficult. The coercion of a disgruntled spirit and the subjugation of a simple girl should present no problems for an intellect such as hers; at least that was the way it ought to be. If Professor Guru was dismayed by her failure to gain control of her assistant, it was nothing to the feeling that coursed through her the following morning when Professor Pindari arrived at the chamber site with a myall witch in tow.
Hermione Granger viewed the walls of the chamber with undisguised awe, and fascination, she greeted Professor Guru with an enthusiasm that the older woman certainly did not reciprocate, not inwardly anyway. Outwardly she was charming and welcomed the new student with open arms and was even pleasant to the old fool Pindari who it seemed had unwittingly placed another barrier in the way of her plans.
However this new barrier would be easily sidestepped, the girl obviously had no experience with real magic and the power it could deliver, and although myall magic had its uses it was insignificant compared with the might of the spirits. Guru decided that Hermione was a distraction, nothing more, a decision that other, craftier wizards bent on ultimate control of the world had lived, or perhaps not lived, to regret.
During the first few weeks after Hermione's arrival the professor maintained an open friendly contact with the young witch. However, as the repeated clandestine rituals failed to break down Nara's resistance Guru became irritated, she was more reluctant to share information with Hermione and her familiarity cooled. Nara on the other hand had latched on to Hermione like a drowning man hangs onto a life jacket.
Unsettling dreams had begun to invade Nara's mind becoming more real each time, until now she could almost but not quite make sense of them. Hermione provided a means of forgetting her own problems, she told her stories, not like the ones depicted in the pictographs, old dry and of years long ago, but ones of excitement, terror, betrayal, desperation and ultimate victory, and Hermione had lived through them. She spoke of her friends Ron and Harry, though mainly of Harry, Nara received the impression that Hermione had some issues with Ron that had soured their friendship. But it was Harry this, and Harry that, to such an extent that Nara wondered why on earth Harry wasn't here as well, since Hermione, if nothing else, had a tremendous crush on this young man.
Guru watched the two friends with disquiet, it was possible that influences from the witch were helping Nara to resist the approaches of the spirit Marmoo, the professor would have to recheck her original copy of the pictographs and make sure the inferences she had gleaned from them were correct. It was however a completely unrelated incident that made her realise just how wrong her interpretation had been.
Hermione was working at a small table in the chamber, the copious notes she always produced piling up beside her. Professor Guru walked in, almost managing to ignore her, picked up Hermione's notes and began to read them. Her attention was caught by the large red book that the notes had been lying over.
"Oh, what is this?" the professor asked with nonchalant curiosity, turning the book on the table so that she could more clearly read the title.
Hermione looked up. "It's the history of Godric Gryffindor the founder of the house I was in with my friends when we were at Hogwarts. Its called "The Heart of a Lion" the lion is the symbol of the house, you can see it on the cover," Hermione explained as she pointed out the large rampant lion embossed into the leather. "I was going to lend it to Nara, is that ok? She has been so interested in my stories I thought she might enjoy it."
"No I see no reason why Nara should not read the book." Guru admitted, then she asked a question of her own. "These houses you had at school there was a reason for you to be placed in this particular one?"
"Oh, yes," said Hermione, encouraged that after several weeks of indifference from the professor she was actually talking to her again. "On our first day we sit on a stool in front of the whole school and the sorting hat is put on our head. The hat is full of magic and it looks at you from the inside out and it decides which house you should be put into. In the case of Gryffindor it looks for courage, friendship, and a willingness to stand up for what is right. That is why the book is called the heart of a lion, it is the quality of all Gryffindors."
"Really?" said Guru, in a way that would have made Hermione suspicious if she had not been on a little memory trip of her own.
"Yes, I could never see it in myself to start with," she said bringing to mind a friend with dark hair, glasses and a forehead marred by a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt. "It took some one very special to bring that quality out in me, someone that was so brave, so faithful, and willing to give his life for what he believed was right. I know that as long as he is alive I have nothing to fear."
"It is unfortunate for you that he is not here now!" snarled Professor Guru, who, to Hermione's complete surprise, pulled a short wand from her pocket and thrust it out at her saying "Petrificus totalus!"
Hermione felt the restricting bands of the spell pull her arms to her sides and her legs together, making it impossible for her to remain on her stool, and she fell heavily to the floor. The professor was mumbling under her breath how could she have missed the clues, how could she, the greatest mind in Uluru, have overlooked something so simple. She began to laugh, and it was not a pleasant sound. Hermione could hear everything, although bound tight in the spell she was not unconscious, and the rambling of the professor sounded horribly familiar. Pitched on the edge of insanity Hermione knew that the professor presented a serious threat, and she wished most sincerely that Harry was close at hand.
The thoughts whirled through Guru's head at a frantic speed. It was fortunate that she had taken the trouble, just that very morning, to see Pindari and raise concerns over this foreign witch being involved with something as essentially aboriginal as her research. Now she had discovered Hermione's real identity, and captured her with her own cunning, there was nothing to prevent her orchestrating some disaster to remove this girl with 'the heart of a lion'.
It was strange that Hermione was the one depicted in the pictograph and not Nara as she had thought, but no matter, she had to throw her down …down… what did it mean? Then Professor Guru caught sight of the seal and an idea began to form. Most visitors to the chamber pretend it wasn't there; they didn't like the idea that it was real and may lead to the place it was supposed to go.
There in the floor of the chamber the entrance to the Dreamtime, to a world isolated from this one, a place that even the sprits needed help to cross-over from. "Ohh!" It was so simple, so delicious, she couldn't help but vocalise her delight. This would make the ideal prison for this interfering girl and Marmoo could have unrestricted access to his …well… enemy. It would be a prison out of time that Hermione Granger would never escape from.
Guru put away her wand and picked up her ju-stick. She mumbled a few phrases that would initiate and enhance her magic, then pointing the stick at the seal intoned, "Purana Marombi!" The seal, carved in a large circular slab, shuddered then slowly began to revolve, raising dust that had lain undisturbed for thousands of years the great stone seal turned faster and faster. It blurred with the speed it was turning then slowly the hard red stone changed, it began to sparkle, and became a pink, swirling vortex an open doorway to a place no human had ever been.
The professor took hold of Hermione's ankles, lifted her legs, and dragged her across to the doorway; she could see the fear in the girl's eyes and mocked her. "I thought you said you have nothing to fear…. Ahh! But then your hero is not at hand, is he, and even if he was I assure you that he could look for you to the end of time itself and never find you." She pushed at Hermione with her foot, so she rolled over closer to the doorway. The vortex grabbed her, pulled her in, and Hermione disappeared in a flash of pure white light.
Out in the corridor Nara had watched the climax of the events in the chamber with mounting horror. She could not believe that the professor was capable of doing such a thing, and yet she had seen it. She backed away from the door, uncertain now of what to do, straight into the embrace of Keli, who gripped her arms and forced them behind her back. She cried out as Keli pushed her back toward the chamber, and then she heard the voice of Professor Guru.
"Nara is that you," she called in a friendly tone. "Come inside child, I have to tell you that there has been the most unfortunate accident."
* * *