“Is this cool or what?!” Nathan shouted as he dropped to the grassy bank and began untying his shoes.

“You're not going in there!” Denise cried in alarm.

“Sure, why not?” He'd already kicked off his shoes and was working on his socks. “We drank the stuff and it didn't kill us. And Listro Q splashed it all over our faces.”

Denise turned back to Listro Q and Aristophenix. “Is it really safe?” she asked.

“Perfectly.” Aristophenix smiled as he waddled closer to the stream.

“'Sides,” Nathan called, peeling off his shirt, “I can't wait to tell Mrs. Barnick, my English teacher, that I took a dip in her precious alphabet. Maybe she'll finally give me an A this time.”

Listro Q turned to Denise. “Welcome are you, to join him.”

“I don't think so,” she said, giving a dubious look at the stream. Call her old-fashioned, but somehow she felt words and letters were better suited for reading than for jumping in and swimming with.

But not Nathan. With a slapping splash, he dove headfirst into the words and disappeared.

Denise watched and waited, but he didn't resurface. She glanced at the others. No one seemed concerned. She tried to relax. He'll be up any minute, she assured herself. After all, didn't Aristophenix just say it was safe? And if Aristophenix said it was safe, it was safe. Or was it?

Seems her little cross-dimensional trip hadn't been so safe. Come to think of it, it had been downright dangerous.

Let's go, Nathan, she thought. Don't be a jerk. Come back up.

But Nathan didn't come back up.

The inside of Denise's palms grew damp. It's true, the two of them weren't exactly the best of friends, but Nathan was a human being (though there were times she had her doubts). Besides, what would she tell Joshua, his older brother, if something happened? “Hey, sorry 'bout losing your brother back in that other dimension, but, like, can we still be friends?”

Come on, Nathan, come back up!

She looked to the group. Maybe these creatures weren't so interested in their safety after all. Maybe this was all an elaborate trap, some way to lure poor unsuspecting earth kids into another world so they could be kidnapped and drowned. When you got right down to it, how long had she known them? Basically, weren't they just your common, average, run-of-the-mill strangers? Well, all right, maybe furry faces, purple skin, and glowing tails weren't exactly run-of-the-mill, but they were still strangers. And what did every kid know about taking rides with strangers?

What have we done?!

Her mind raced for a solution. I could jump in there and save him. Yeah! Before they stopped me, I could kick off my shoes and leap in there to save his life! 'Course I can't swim, but-

Suddenly, there was a stirring on the surface of the words.

Finally — he's coming up!

Wrong again. It was just a breeze rippling across the water's surface. Denise was definitely in a panic. And for good reason.

Then, just when she was about to jump back, point her finger, and blow the whistle on them — just when she was ready to challenge them to one of her world- famous fistfights, Nathan exploded from the surface laughing and gulping for air.

Denise was furious . . . and relieved.

“This is incredible!” he shouted. “Denny, there's no bottom to this thing!”

At first she was going to give him a good lecture. But what good would a lecture do? He'd just laugh and make her feel foolish — something she was becoming an expert at.

By now she was sure everyone considered her the group idiot — first with her cross-dimensional detour, then her little stand-on-the-head routine. No, she'd been enough of a fool for one day, thank you very much.

So instead of giving Nathan the lecture he deserved, she tried to smile. She pretended to be Denise I'm- Having-a-Good-Time kid, instead of the Denise I-Know- We're-All-Going-to-Die fool.

She watched as the words THEREFORE, surely, and BEGAT dripped from Nathan's hair. They fell to his shoulders and slid down his back before splashing into the stream where they swirled around his waist and disappeared.

Trying her best to sound calm and matter-of-fact, she turned to Aristophenix and asked, “So where does the stream come from?”

“The Center,” Aristophenix answered.

It comes to Fayrah and wanders around, for us to employ when truth must be found.

“But the words, the letters?” she asked.

“Imager's mouth, come from they,” Listro Q answered. “Every word, every sentence, spoken by him.”

“Hey, Denny, check it out!” Nathan squirted a handful of water at her. The word PEACE shot from his closed palms and landed on the bank just a few feet from her. She watched as it slowly seeped into the ground and disappeared.

Samson briefly chattered.

“Right,” Listro Q agreed. “More to see much. Nathan! Come must you!”

“Ah, do we have to?”

“Come,” he repeated. Then, stooping down, Listro Q grabbed the two canteens Nathan had left on the bank and handed them to Denise. “Filled must be these.”

She took them and moved to the edge of the bank. Typical, she thought. Nathan gets to play while I do all the work. But the thought didn't last long. For when she knelt down and looked into the stream, she was in for another surprise. It wasn't the letters and words that startled her; it was her reflection. A reflection that wasn't her. Well, it was her and it wasn't. It did everything she did. It gasped when she gasped. It moved when she moved. But the reflection was of a much older Denise. And, she had to admit, a much more beautiful one.

There was something else above the reflection. It wore a breathtakingly gorgeous wedding gown. Intricately embroidered, it had long lacy sleeves and a sparkling veil made of tiny pearls — pearls so fine and shimmering that they could have been morning dew on a spider's web. Slowly, she raised her hand toward her face, to touch the veil. But of course there was no veil there. It existed only in the reflection.

Then she saw Listro Q's reflection over her shoulder, smiling. Unlike her, he looked exactly the same as in real life.

“I don't — I don't understand,” she said, unable to take her eyes from the stream.

“Imager's words, show reality — things as they are, not as they appear.”

“But . . . that's not me, that's not what I look like.”

“You how Imager sees.”

“But that . . .” She motioned to the reflection. “That's not real.”

Listro Q chuckled softly and pointed at her reflection. “More real that . . .” He pointed to her. “Than ever will be this.”

“Come on, Denny, are you going to fill those canteens or what?” Suddenly her reflection shattered into a million pieces as Nathan splashed through it to reach the shore. “Here, gimme one of those.” He grabbed a canteen from her hand and quickly dipped it into the water.

“Quite so, Master Nathan,” Mr. Hornsberry said in his typical snooty manner. “If one doesn't take charge, one may never accomplish anything.”

“You got that right, Hornsey,” Nathan said, pulling the filled canteen from the stream and grabbing the next one from Denise. “Especially when all some people want to do is sit around and gawk at themselves.”

Denise would have fired off a stinging comeback, especially after the fright he'd given her with his little drowning imitation. But she didn't say a word. All she could do was stare at the reflection as it reformed. Only now it wasn't just her reflection, it was also Nathan's — the older Nathan — the one wearing the glowing suit of armor and carrying the shield and bloodstained swords. But it was more than just the armor that surprised her. It was those eyes. His eyes. Sure, his mouth was busy spouting the usual sarcasm and put-downs, but the eyes, they were different. In the reflection they appeared kind . . . even sensitive.

In his haste Nathan never saw the reflections. “Come on, let's get out of here,” he said as he rose to his feet with the second canteen. “We've got lots to see.”

Denise continued to stare.

“Denny, are you coming? Denny?”

Slowly she rose to her feet. She hesitated a moment and looked back at the stream a final time. Her reflection remained, as if waiting. But waiting for what?

“Heads up!”

She turned just in time to catch one of the canteens Nathan had thrown at her.

“Carry your own water,” he scorned. “I'm not your slave.” With that he turned and started limping up the path. The rest of the group joined him. Reluctantly, Denise followed.

Then, as if to remind everyone of their mission (and that he was in charge of it), Aristophenix raised his walking stick and cheerfully spoke.

To show you Fayrah is our purpose and plan,
how different we live from the species of Man.

They'd only traveled for a few moments before Samson hovered over Nathan's head and chattered something.

“What's that?” Nathan asked.

It was Mr. Hornsberry's time to translate. “Master Nathan, I do believe he is referring to your shoes. In your admirable effort to hurry the female, you have forgotten your shoes.”

Nathan looked down. “Oh, man,” he complained. “It's this stupid path. The grass is so soft I forgot I wasn't wearing them. I gotta go back. You guys keep going, I'll catch up in a second.”

“Back, go can we all,” Listro Q offered.

“No way,” Nathan said. “If Denny gets to looking at herself in the water again, there's no telling when we'll be able to leave.”

The group chuckled.

Denise bit her lip.

“Over this knoll just, is the Capital,” Listro Q said, pointing to the grassy hill in front of them. “Wait, can we.”

“Go ahead,” Nathan said as he started back. “I'll meet you there.”

“Wait for me, Master Nathan,” Mr. Hornsberry called as he scampered after the boy. “I shall accompany you!”

“Are you sure, ol' buddy?” Aristophenix called one final time.

“You go ahead,” Nathan insisted. “We'll catch up.”

Eventually, Nathan found his shoes, slipped them on, and plopped down on the side of the stream to tie them. And it was there, for the first time since he'd entered Fayrah, that he felt a chill. Strange, he'd never paid attention to the temperature before, probably because the climate was so perfect-not too hot, not too cold. But now he felt a definite shiver creeping across his shoulder blades. He threw a glance at Mr. Hornsberry, who sat beside him. By the way the dog flared his nostrils, he'd also sensed something in the air. Then, suddenly, there was a voice. . . .

“Greetings, most favored.”

Nathan gave a start. But he wasn't frightened. Maybe because the voice was so smooth and gentle that it almost sounded like his own thoughts. He turned and saw a little blue sphere near him. It was about the size of a soccer ball and was gently rolling back and forth. It had no arms, no legs, not even a nose or ears — just two deeply recessed eyes, and a mouth.

“Who — who are you?” Nathan asked.

“My name is not important. You are the only one of importance.”

Mr. Hornsberry rose from his haunches and gave a low growl.

“Easy, Hornsey, it's okay,” Nathan said. He reached out to pat him on the head and Mr. Hornsberry relaxed slightly. Pats on the head are good for a dog's relaxation — even haughty, intellectual ones. Turning back to the orb, Nathan asked warily, “Why am I so important? What did I do?”

“It's not what you did,” the blue sphere purred, “it's who you are. You are one of Imager's chosen. A brilliant thread in his nearly perfect tapestry.”

Nathan eyed the sphere carefully as it rolled closer. The chill grew deeper.

“But a thread not allowed to rise to its fullest potential . . .”

“What — what do you mean?” Despite the chill, Nathan found himself strangely attracted to the creature.

“Have you never felt you were different — that somehow you were better than others?” The attraction increased with every word. “That you were somehow . . . special?”

“Well — well, yes,” Nathan stuttered, “how did you know?”

“Because it is truth and I know truth.” The creature turned to Mr. Hornsberry. “And you, my little friend — how clever you are to see your master's greatness.”

Whatever concerns Mr. Hornsberry had, seemed to disappear. The stranger's words were as comforting as any pat on the head. “Well, yes.” The dog nervously cleared his throat. “I am rather, as you say, clever, aren't I?” He gave his stubby tail a wag.

The creature grinned. He rolled closer to Nathan but kept a wary eye on the stream. Something about the water seemed to make him nervous. “When I speak of your greatness, oh, Chosen Thread, don't you feel a stir of excitement? Does not your heart beat a little faster at the hearing of this truth?”

It was true. All of his life Nathan had felt that he was somehow different — special. He thought it when he saw the rock stars onstage or the movie stars on the screen.

That should be him up there. He could do that. If he only had the right breaks, he could be as great as any of them. Even better. He was sure of it. And now . . . could it be? Could all of those thoughts, those feelings, could they really be true?

“Listen to your instincts,” the sphere cooed as it rolled even closer. “Trust them, trust what your heart whispers as truth.”

“But . . . ,” Nathan asked hoarsely, “I don't understand. How — how do I, you know, become . . . great?”

The creature chuckled. “You already are great — you simply have not experienced it.”

“But . . .”

“Come, follow your humble servant to his kingdom.”

“You mean a different kingdom than this one?”

The creature rolled back and forth in a gentle nod.

“Why?”

“To rule.”

“What?”

“We have been waiting many epochs for your arrival. You are one of the great, a chosen thread.”

Nathan's thoughts swam. Was such a thing possible?

“Surely this call to greatness does not surprise you. Listen to your heart, listen to its stirrings. Inside, you know you have been called to it.”

“But — but what about Listro Q and Aristophenix . . . and Samson. They invited me to see their kingdom.”

The sphere rolled so close that Nathan could now feel the coldness of its breath. It said only one word. “Why?”

Nathan was having a harder time concentrating. The stranger had filled his head with so many thoughts that he was thinking of everything and nothing all at the same time. “I don't . . . know . . . ,” he stuttered. “Something about giving, about serving.”

The blue sphere broke into laughter. “Don't you see, that is simply another trick to deprive you.”

“Deprive me?”

“Yes, just as your hip has deprived you for so many years.”

Instinctively Nathan reached down to touch his leg. The stranger had spoken another truth. He could do so much. He could be so great. If it just wasn't for his stupid hip.

“Do you think Imager wanted you to have that deformity?” The orb pressed in. “Not at all. It was thrust upon you to deprive you, to prevent you from finding your true self, from becoming all you were meant to be.”

Nathan's heart pounded harder and faster.

The orb continued, “If you visit Fayrah and learn only to give and serve, you will never rise to your true stature of greatness. It is another merciless trick to deprive you of your destiny.”

“My destiny?”

“Come with me, Chosen Thread. Mine is a different kingdom — a kingdom of owners. Only the weak are destined to give. You are destined to take. You are destined to possess. In my kingdom, everything your eyes behold can become yours. No longer will you be deprived. No longer will your destiny be hindered. You will become exactly what you have been chosen to be since the beginning of time.”

With that the orb turned and started rolling away from the stream. “Come . . . follow your trusted servant. Follow him. Your kingdom awaits.”

“But where is it?” Nathan asked as he jumped up and limped to join him. Mr. Hornsberry trotted excitedly at his side. “What is the name of this special kingdom?”

“Keygarp,” the sphere said as he continued forward.

“And your name, you never told me your name.”

The sphere turned toward him and purred ever so gently. “My name . . . Bobok.”

Excerpted from The Portal, book one of the “Imager Chronicles” series by Bill Myers, and reprinted by permission of Tommy Nelson Publishers. Read chapter 6 of The Portal.

To read chapters 1 through 4 of The Portal click here.