“Denny, Bloodstone,” Listro Q ordered. “Make sure, take it you.”

Denise nodded and headed for the counter where the Bloodstone rested. Though she had carried it all the way to the Secondhand Shop, she was a little reluctant picking it back up. But when she finally took it into her hands, it felt as cool and normal as always.

She glanced at Listro Q, who was pulling a small electronic box from his pocket. It looked like a remote control to a TV, but somehow she suspected it did more than pick up local cable.

“Sure you got the coordinates right this time, ol' buddy?” Aristophenix asked.

“Cool, is it,” came the reply.

Aristophenix nodded and turned to Nathan. “Will ya grab a couple of them canteens there on the back shelf for us?”

“Canteens?” Nathan asked skeptically.

“If ya don't mind.”

Nathan shrugged and limped down the aisle to pick up a couple of old army surplus canteens.

Meanwhile, Aristophenix gave the final instructions,

To travel across dimensions, there's some things you must know, to help ease the trauma, and allow you to flow.

“Most of the work, Cross-Dimensionalizer will do,” Listro Q said, referring to the little box in his hand. “But weight either have you of hate, anger, even unforgiveness, far too heavy to carry through the Center. Mind free of these burdens must be you.”

“That's right,” Aristophenix added.

Think of things pleasant, Imager has made, the breadth of his passion, which never will fade.

Denise wasn't sure she completely understood, but she caught the general idea. Somehow the trip would be easier if she thought of happy things. No problem, she could handle that.

“Set everybody?” Listro Q asked.

Everyone nodded. Denise could feel her heart starting to pound in her chest. She took a deeper breath, forcing herself to relax. It didn't help.

Listro Q reached down to the control box, pressed four buttons . . .

BEEP!........BOP!........BLEEP!.......BURP!.... . . . and they were off.

Suddenly there was so much light that Denise couldn't see a thing. It was like looking into the sun. She closed her eyes, then squinted them open a crack until, slowly, gradually, she grew accustomed to the brightness. Only then did she notice that there were even brighter lights surrounding her. They were different shapes and every possible color imaginable, but they all had one thing in common. Like herself, they seemed to be traveling at incredible speed toward the middle of something.

We're falling, Denise thought. But there was no panic. Barely any fear. Instead, it was more of an observation.We're all falling toward the center of something.

Correct is that, Listro Q answered.

She turned and saw him directly beside her. Like the others he was also glowing. In fact, he was so bright that if it wasn't for his distinct shape, she might never have recognized him.

He continued to speak-but it really wasn't speaking because his mouth never moved. It was as if he was thinking the words and she somehow heard them. All worlds and dimensions connected to the Center, he explained. Slow travel would it be around the outside from world to world. Faster travel is it through the Center.

So we're going to the center of the universe? she asked.

Center of all universes. End and beginning of all things. You mean like heaven or something?

Listro Q shrugged. The Center-Imager's home is it. Imaged by him are all things-from him come all things.

God? The Imager, is he like God?

Again Listro Q shrugged. Intense pure-the Imager, is he. The Center, his home.

Before Denise could ask any more questions, she spotted Aristophenix approaching. Like Listro Q, he glowed with brilliant light. Beside him little Samson also glowed. And beside him was what looked like the stuffed bulldog that had been sitting on the counter-the one that had been Nathan's birthday gift. Apparently the Cross-Dimensionalizer had sucked it up into their journey as well.

But what really startled Denise was Nathan-at least she thought it was Nathan. Yet this Nathan was full grown. Not only was he full grown, but he was incredibly handsome, and both of his legs were whole, his hip perfectly well. And his clothing? Instead of a sweater and jeans he now wore some sort of bright metal all over him, like a suit of armor.

In one hand, he held a shield. In the other, she noticed a couple canteens-the ones he'd picked up at the back of the store. But they were no longer canteens, not exactly. They'd changed their shape. Oh sure, they still had their black screw-on lids and the green camouflage cloth covers, but now they were shaped like . . . well, they almost looked like swords. And, on what would be the blades of those swords, there was the slightest spattering of . . . blood. But it wasn't human blood or even the blood of animals. Somehow Denise knew or felt that it was a different blood-like the blood of reptiles or maybe insects. That's weird, she thought, insects don't have blood. Or do they?

Aristophenix pointed toward the Center. They were approaching what looked like a thin layer of fog. And below that . . . below that was the outline of what could only be described as a city-but a city that glowed brilliantly!

Start thinking them good thoughts.

The Center we're nearer. Keep thanking Imager, so you'll pass freer and clearer.

Denise winced. The one thing that hadn't changed was Aristophenix's awful poetry. But she understood his warning and quickly searched her mind for something pleasant to be thankful for.

She had it. Toby, her cat. She thought of the first day her parents brought him home-an orange tabby kitten, all full of fluff and warmness. What wonderful feelings those were. She was only three or four at the time, but she recalled how both parents knelt beside her, how they stroked Toby, how they smiled. Those were happy times-the best times.

The memory was so warm and tender that Denise barely noticed as they entered the Center-as the fog gently embraced and enfolded her. But, instead of cold and damp, this fog had the same warm, cuddly feelings as the kitten.

And then it happened. . . .

In her memory, she looked up to see her parents smiling. There was Mom, looking like she always did. And there was Dad. . . . But wait a minute. She couldn't see his face. There were his thick arms, his broad shoulders, even his wavy hair. But no face. Why couldn't she remember his face?

Then the anger started-a little at first, but it quickly grew. Anger over her parents' fights. Anger over his leaving. Anger over never seeing him again. Why? Why had he gone? What had she done? Why had he deserted her? And, as the anger grew, the shaking began.

What's going on? she thought as she turned to her companions. But they were no longer beside her. They were several feet below, falling much faster and smoother.

For the first time since the journey began, Denise started to feel real fear. Cold, icy panic knotted her stomach. It quickly spread to the rest of her body. As it did, the shaking increased.

“Listro Q!” she shouted. “Aristophenix?”

But no one heard. No one noticed. Each was too immersed in his own thankfulness and joy.

Suddenly Denise felt alone. Alone and frightened. Very frightened.

As the fear grew, the shaking turned into violent lurchings and bouncings. She tried to scream but was thrown so savagely about that it was impossible to catch her breath. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes-hoping through sheer concentration to ease the relentless shaking-to make whatever was happening stop. Again she tried to picture the kitten, but it did no good. There was too much fear now.

She noticed she was slowing. She was no longer falling as fast toward the Center. And the slower she fell, the less shaking she experienced, until both the shaking and her falling came to a stop.

But only for a moment.

Instantly, she was flung away-like a slingshot in the opposite direction, away from the Center. Faster and faster she flew. The lights and colors were a blur as she streaked past them. She looked down and spotted the Center. It quickly shrank to a little ball, then a little dot, then finally disappeared altogether. Now there was only the light. But even that was beginning to fade.

For the briefest moment, she was back in the Secondhand Shop-or thought she was. It came and went so quickly she wasn't sure. And then she entered a void-a hollow void that grew darker and darker.

Help me! she tried to scream. But she was going so fast the words were sucked from her mouth before she could shout them. The darkness increased, growing blacker and blacker, until there was no light at all. Nothing. Total darkness. There was no up, no down, only speed, terrifying, horrifying speed, hurtling her deeper and deeper into the blackness.

Then she saw them. She gasped. How could it be?

How, in this total darkness, was there a blacker darkness? But not just one. Hundreds of them. Hundreds of black shadows racing through the darkness. Shadows feeding upon the darkness, devouring the existing darkness, sucking it into themselves and creating an oblivion so deep, so intense, that reality itself seemed to disappear.

Sensing her presence, they began turning in her direction. Then, to her horror, they started racing directly at her!

Denise threw out her hands to protect herself, though she couldn't even see those hands. She couldn't see anything. To be honest, she wasn't even sure if she was still alive. Of course she was alive. Why else would she feel so dizzy? Why else would she hear the pounding of her heart in her ears?

The shadows continued their approach from all sides. But that wasn't true, there were no sides. There was nothing.

The pounding in her ears grew deafening. Her head spun so fast that she could no longer think. So this is what dying feels like, was her last thought as she began losing consciousness. That and, Are those Daddy's eyes? For, suddenly, she was staring directly into her father's dark eyes. Well, they were his eyes, yet somehow they weren't. For these eyes looked like they understood every hurt, every sorrow, and every heartbreak she had ever had.

And then there was nothing.

Excerpted from The Portal, book one of the “Imager Chronicles” series by Bill Myers, and reprinted by permission of Tommy Nelson Publishers. Read chapter 4 of The Portal.

To read chapters 1 and 2 of The Portal click here.