The first thing Nathan noticed as he stepped through the blowing Portal of wind and sand was the heat. But it wasn't the wet and sticky kind. This was hot and dry — the type that pounds your head and makes your eyes ache from its brightness.

The second thing Nathan noticed were the insects. Thousands of them. They were four or five inches long with pincer jaws. And each and every one of them had a single thing in common. They were racing straight for him!

“Bobok!” he cried. “What do we do? What do we do?”

“Close your mouth!” Bobok shouted.

“What?”

“Close your mouth! They smell the moisture from your breath and want it.”

“But —”

“Close your mouth and breathe through your nose — now!”

Nathan would have argued, but he barely had time to obey. He closed his mouth and just in time. The insects reached his legs — hundreds of them — and quickly scampered inside his pants around his ankles and calves. Instinctively he tried to kick and slap them aside, but there were just too many. As soon as he knocked off one, a dozen more appeared in its place.

“Stop it!” Bobok shouted. “Let them have their way. It will only last a moment.”

By now the creepy things were swarming around his knees in their desperate search for water. As they raced back and forth, his skin tickled and itched. But Nathan wasn't moving. Not anymore. He was too frightened. Forget being frightened. He was petrified!

“That tickling you feel is only their tongues,” Bobok assured him. “They're licking the sweat off your skin- don't worry.”

But Nathan was worrying, big time. He looked down and his eyes widened. He could no longer see his legs. He could see their shape okay, but his blue jeans were no longer blue. They were a mass of black and brown insects. Not only were they racing inside his pants but they were outside as well — thousands of hairy legs, fluttering wings, and hard-shelled bodies swarming as they slowly worked their way up his thighs.

Nathan tried his best not to scream. He clamped his jaw shut, he bit his tongue, he did everything he could do. But it was just too much. He had to open his mouth! He had to cry out! He had to —

“CHILDREN!”

All movement around his legs ceased.

“CHILDREN, COME DOWN FROM THAT HANDSOME UPSIDE DOWNER THIS VERY INSTANT!” The voice screeched with power-like steel dragged across concrete.

In seconds, Nathan's legs were completely free of the insects. Completely!

They pulled back into a teeming, swarming wall several feet high and several yards long. A teeming, swarming wall that had obeyed the voice, but remained close . . . just in case the voice changed its mind.

“You'll have to excuse their eagerness.” The voice was much softer now, almost comforting. “It's been a long time since we've had the privilege of such a wonderfully handsome visitor with so much . . . moisture.”

Nathan finally took his eyes from the quivering mound of bugs to see who was speaking. She sat on a throne and was gorgeous, heart-stopping — a woman more beautiful than any he had ever seen. She had soft blonde hair that fell to her delicate shoulders, a kind smiling mouth, and the most incredible violet blue eyes. Nathan liked her instantly.

“Who is she?” he whispered to Bobok.

“Don't be deceived by her looks,” Bobok warned. “The Illusionist is as crafty with her disguises as she is with her words.”

Pretending not to hear, the lady motioned to the wall of bugs. “You'll have to excuse the little ones. You Upside Downers consist of so much moisture that sometimes they forget themselves.”

“She's trying to scare you,” Bobok said. “Don't fall for it.” But Nathan wasn't frightened of her. How could he be? The lady was so lovely and kind.

The pile of droning bugs, however, was another matter. He glanced at Mr. Hornsberry to see how he was taking it. The dog didn't seem to mind them at all. And why should he? As a stuffed animal he was made up of cotton batting and cloth — not much moisture there. But the lady . . . for some reason he seemed very suspicious of the lady. And when she looked at him, a faint growl escaped from his throat.

But instead of anger or concern, the lady broke into a gentle smile. “My, what a beautiful dog,” she said. “Isn't he the most perfect thing?”

Immediately Mr. Hornsberry's tail thumped in the sand. So much for suspicions.

“Come here, boy,” she called as she knelt down and patted her lap. “Come on.”

He gave one of his throat-clearing coughs and nervously answered, “I don't wish to be too terribly rude at this juncture of our relationship, but it's probably best if I remain here with Master Nathan.”

“Oh, and he talks,” she said with a delighted grin. “Isn't he just the most clever thing?” Turning to Nathan, she added, “What a lucky young man you are to have such a friend.”

Mr. Hornsberry's entire body gave a shudder of delight. The lady rose from her throne and addressed Bobok. “My dearest and most trusted friend, you promised two specimens. I see only one and he's a boy — though an incredibly intelligent and handsome boy to be sure. But where, dear heart, is the girl you promised?”

“She will be coming soon,” Bobok purred. “Trust me.”

The lady smiled warmly before turning her focus back upon Nathan. “And why have you left her behind?”

Nathan swallowed hard and looked at the wall of thirsty insects. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure if talking was such a great idea. The lady saved him the effort.

“Of course.” She smiled in understanding. “It is because a young man of your special genius and chosen talents would only be held back by someone of her mediocre skills.”

Nathan's eyes widened in surprise.

“I am correct, aren't I?” she asked sweetly.

What could he say? When she was right, she was right. And isn't that exactly what Bobok had said — that he was special, a Chosen Thread? Nathan gave a modest shrug and finally spoke, “Yeah, I guess.”

Immediately the buzzing from the wall of insects grew louder in agitation . . . or was it anticipation? Maybe it was both. In any case, Nathan knew they definitely smelled the water from his breath and were hoping to race back for seconds on drinks.

However, the Illusionist gave a single wave of her hand and they immediately fell silent.

She continued, her voice filled with sympathy and understanding, “It must be very difficult for a good- looking young man such as yourself, with so many gifts and talents, to deal with such an average person as the girl.”

Nathan looked at her carefully to see if she was mocking him. But there was no irony in her eyes . . . only the kindest, most sincere look.

He gave another shrug. “Sometimes.”

The Illusionist nodded in compassion as she approached and gently rested her hand upon his shoulder. “Poor boy,” she consoled. “I understand.”

“Dear lady,” Bobok quietly warned, “remember our agreement. The boy is coming with me.”

“Of course, my esteemed friend. Though I must say I would give half my kingdom for someone with such looks and great intelligence to stay and keep me company.”

Nathan looked up at her. He couldn't help smiling. She returned it and gave his shoulder the slightest squeeze. It wasn't much, just enough to say, Even though we've only met, we really understand each other, don't we?

“Dear lady . . .” Bobok's warning grew more stern. “Oh, kindest Bobok, you needn't worry.” Directing her gaze back to Nathan she continued, “All I am saying is that it must be terribly frustrating to be as great as he is and have to deal with commoners like that girl.” She gave him another little squeeze.

“Oh, it's not so bad,” Nathan said. “I mean, she can be pretty stupid sometimes, and, well, yeah, sometimes she's a real pain, but —”

“Ahhhh . . .” Denise doubled over in agony. She had never felt anything like it. They had just entered the tunnel and had started for the Portal when a searing pain ripped through her mind.

“Wrong's what?” Listro Q was immediately at her side. He shouted over the wind, “Happened what?”

“My head!” she gasped.

But it wasn't her head. This was no headache she was experiencing. It was deeper . . . much deeper.

Then the pain suddenly left — disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Denise lifted her eyes, dumbfounded.

“Okay, are you?” Listro Q yelled. Even above the roaring wind and whistling sand, it was possible to hear the concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” she said, slowly rising. “What was that?”

Aristophenix joined them. “What's wrong?” he yelled over the wind.

“I don't know,” Denise shouted. “But I'm okay now.”

“You sure?”

She gave him a nod.

“Good!” Aristophenix pointed ahead. “'Cause we've not much time!”

Denise followed his finger to the Portal. Through all the blasting wind and sand, it was still possible to see it widen and contract, widen and contract — as if it were breathing. And each time it contracted, the opening shrunk just a little bit more. She understood Aristophenix perfectly. It soon would close.

The pain that had filled her head was completely gone. Now there was only the stinging sand. It bit her face and arms, and it made her eyes water so badly that she could barely keep them open.

But she had no right to complain. Samson was the one who really had it rough. The little guy fluttered his wings for all he was worth and still barely held his ground against the wind. He chattered loudly for everyone to hurry and continue moving. They did.

Then it hit Denise again — only worse. This time the pain was so intense that it knocked her to the ground. She grabbed her head. But it wasn't just her head. It was as if all of her mind, her body, her personality — everything about her had been hit. Hit hard. In fact, the pain was so violent that all she could do was lie there and gasp.

“Is it what?” Listro Q cried as he dropped to her side. “Is it what?”

But Denise couldn't answer. She was too busy trying to breathe.

“Nathan!” Aristophenix shouted. “It's Nathan!”

Once again the pain shut off. But this time it left Denise much weaker . . . and confused. “What . . .” She panted, trying to catch her breath, trying to make sense out of it. “What's going on?”

Suddenly Listro Q understood. “Speaking bad about you, is Nathan. His words hurting you.”

“It's because he's an Upside Downer,” Aristophenix explained.

Your words can cut and force others to bleed. 'Cause they're spoken from mouths, which have been Imager-Breathed.

“You mean . . .” Denise coughed as they helped her to her feet. “Nathan is doing all this to me with his mouth? This is all happening because of what he's saying?”

Listro Q and Aristophenix nodded.

“Great authority have Upside Downers. Powerful very, blessing or curse their words.”

“Okay, fine,” she called. “He wants a fight, I'll give him a fight.” Taking a deep breath, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “Nathan Hutton O'Brien, you are the world's most —”

“No!” Suddenly both creatures covered her mouth with their hands, or paws, or whatever you'd call them. Listro Q looked stern. “Spoken never,” he said, “harsh words in Fayrah, never.”

Samson chattered again. By now he was several feet behind them and losing ground rapidly.

Aristophenix nodded and yelled,

Oh, Sammy boy's a-fadin'; let's get on with the show. He can't last much longer, so come on, let's move it! Let's go!

Listro Q nodded and shouted, “Form a wall, quickly let's!”

“Good idea, partner.”

With that, both creatures raced back to Samson. Turning to face the wind, they formed a type of shield with their bodies to protect their little friend. Samson ducked behind them and was able to avoid most of the wind as they struggled back toward Denise. Once they arrived, they linked arms with her and continued forward.

The Portal was only twenty feet ahead, but with the blasting wind and sand it could have been miles. And the opening was growing smaller; there was no doubt about it. It wasn't shrinking quickly, but like the hour hand of a clock, it continued to make progress — slowly but surely.

And still they pressed on . . . heads lowered and shoulders bent to protect their faces from the biting sand. Two steps forward, a slip and one step back. One step forward, a stumble, another step back. Yet, somehow, they made progress. Like the Portal itself, they may have been slow, but they were determined. It happened a third time — a blow to Denise stronger than the other two combined.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she might have lost consciousness. One moment, she felt the impossible pain. The next moment, Aristophenix and Listro Q were on the ground beside her shouting, “Denny, can you hear us? Denny!”

When she was finally able to speak, she groaned, “Thanks, Nate, that was a beaut.”

“Stand, can you?” Listro Q shouted. “Denny! Stand can you?”

Denise wanted to break out laughing. And she would have if she'd had the strength. “You gotta be kidding,” she moaned. “Stand? I can barely breathe . . ."

Excerpted from The Portal, book one of the “Imager Chronicles” series by Bill Myers, and reprinted by permission of Tommy Nelson Publishers. Read chapter 8 of The Portal.

To read chapters 1 through 6 of The Portal click here.