Denise and the rest of the group stepped out of the tunnel and into Fayrah. As before, it was a perfect day with perfect weather. But for some reason the colors seemed more vivid than before — glowing reds, bright greens, vibrant yellows. Maybe it was because they'd spent so long seeing nothing but the blue hues of Keygarp. In any case, the colors of Fayrah were so pure and beautiful that for a moment Denise's eyes almost ached with pleasure.

Then there were the citizens — thousands of them. They had all come out to greet the newly freed prisoners. It was a time of joy and celebration.

Everywhere there was laughter, backslaps, and shouts of delight as long-lost friends and relatives found one another in the crowd.

Denise and Nathan seemed to be the only ones having a difficult time of it. Granted, they tried to smile as they were congratulated and they did their best to look happy. But neither of them was too successful. They had lost a friend — a good friend. And no amount of backslapping or laughter could take that loss away.

“He was . . . good,” Denise quietly said to Nathan.

Nathan nodded. “Yeah.”

Seeing their sadness, Aristophenix cleared his throat and tried his best to encourage them.

Don't be so downhearted. There's no need to stew. After all, Sammy boy just did what all Fayrahnians want to do.

Denise forced a smile. It was almost good hearing Aristophenix use his poetry again. Almost. It would have been better if Samson had been there to complain about it with the rest of them.

“He did what all Fayrahnians want to do?” Nathan repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Same love as Imager,” Listro Q quietly explained. “Able to experience same love, was he.”

“All he did was die. What good did his dying do?” Nathan challenged.

“So free are you,” Listro Q answered. Then, motioning toward the thousands of happy Fayrahnians before them, he continued, “So, too, are others.”

Denise wanted to argue, but as she looked around to the crowd of freed prisoners . . . and as she looked at Nathan . . . well, somehow, the argument fell flat. Somehow she suspected that Samson's love did do some good. And she suspected something else. She suspected Nathan's speeches about looking out for number one would never again be spoken with the same conviction as before. That didn't mean he wouldn't still be a selfish brat from time to time, but . . . well, something inside Nathan was changing. She could see it. And she didn't mind it. Not in the least.

Finally, glancing up at the courthouse clock, Aristophenix cleared his throat and spoke.

Don't mean to be party-poopers, or make you feel more low. But your grandpappy'll be a-worryin', if toward home we don't roll.

“Home,” Denise quietly mused. It seemed like a million miles away. Joshua, Nathan's brother, was probably just finishing basketball practice. Grandpa O'Brien was probably back in the shop with the puppy. And her mother — well, her mother would still be at the diner taking orders and clearing tables.

“Got them coordinates, ol' buddy?” Aristophenix asked.

Listro Q gave his standard answer. “Cool.”

Aristophenix nodded and turned to the crowd. “Folks!” he called. “Folks, may I have your attention?”

The crowd grew silent and Aristophenix continued,

Our friends have to leave us; it's sad, we all know. But you just can't travel to, without traveling fro.

The crowd groaned slightly.

“Push them buttons,” Aristophenix whispered to Listro Q. “I'm losin' 'em.”

“Cool,” Listro Q answered as he gratefully reached for the little Cross-Dimensionalizer.

The crowd began waving and calling out best wishes to Denise, Nathan, and Mr. Hornsberry, which the three returned — until Listro Q set the coordinates and pressed the four buttons.

BEEP!........BOP!........BLEEP!.......BURP!....

Suddenly the group was bathed in intense light. More suddenly, still, they were falling. Again they were surrounded by other lights who were also falling — falling gracefully and smoothly. Each headed toward the bright concentration of light in the middle — the Center.

The thought of heading back there didn't make Denise leap for joy. She remembered all too well what had happened the last time she took this route.

She looked around nervously. As her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she spotted Mr. Hornsberry, Listro Q, and Nathan. But once again this Nathan was the older, more mature Nathan — the one with the shield and the suit of armor. Only this time he didn't have his swords — the ones fashioned out of the canteens and covered with bug blood. Hmm, sometime she'd have to ask him if he knew what that was about.

Right now, though, the Center was coming into clear view. Already she could see the thin layer of fog and beyond that the bright, glowing buildings.

Closer and closer they came as Denise tried to think of a pleasant thought. She wasn't about to go through what she'd been through the last time. No way. She had to fill her head with something good. Anything good. But she was trying too hard. Nothing came to mind. Maybe a Christmas present here, a compliment there. But they were such short thoughts she knew they wouldn't last — not all the way through the Center. She started to panic. They were nearly there and no thoughts were coming. Desperately, she searched for something . . . anything.

Aristophenix! she called. Aristophenix, help me!

Suddenly a pair of hands tenderly covered her eyes. For a moment she struggled, trying to fight them off, to push them away. But they would not move.

And then she smelled it. Aftershave. But not just any aftershave. It was the same aftershave her dad used to wear. It had been years since she'd smelled it. In fact, until now, she had completely forgotten about it.

She had also forgotten how her mother had kept his clothes in the closet. How they had remained there for what seemed like years after he left. And how as a little girl, she used to sneak into the closet, stand on her tiptoes, and bury her face into his favorite flannel shirt.

She would just stand there pressing her face to it, breathing in the smell of his aftershave . . . and remembering.

That was happening now — the remembering. She could feel her whole body start to relax. Slowly she leaned into what she remembered to be her daddy's arms.

And, strangely enough, they were there to support her. Deeper and deeper she relaxed, as she continued to breathe in, as she continued remembering his strength and tenderness.

The light outside the pair of hands grew incredibly bright. Then there was the singing. It was beautiful. Denise wanted to look, but knew she would be too terrified at what she saw. Besides, this was better. Resting in these arms was safe — secure. As long as she stayed there nothing could touch her.

Eventually the light and singing started to fade. And finally the hands were removed. Denise didn't bother to turn and see who they belonged to. She knew no one would be there — not now.

She looked for the Center and was surprised to see that it was above them and not below. They had passed completely through it and had come out the other side. Now she was heading away from it — but not wildly and out of control like the last time. This time everything was smooth and easy.

The light from the Center rapidly faded. Then, the faint outline of walls, ceiling, and a floor appeared around her. At last the sensation came to an end. The group was back inside the Secondhand Shop. Everything was exactly as it had been. There were no surprises.

Well, maybe one . . .

“Samson!” Nathan shouted as he spotted the half dragonfly, half ladybug. The little critter was buzzing over the Bloodstone.

“Samson! You're alive!” Denise started running toward him, but she'd only taken a couple steps before she caught herself. It wasn't Samson. Oh, sure, it looked like Samson; it flew and sounded like Samson. But this one's taillight was red. Samson's was blue.

“Congratulations, ol' boy,” Aristophenix called out to the bug. “Glad you could join us!”

Denise turned to Aristophenix. “Hold it,” she said. “That can't be Samson. He's dead.”

“Right is that,” Listro Q agreed. “Dead and alive.”

Denise frowned and for the first time that she could remember, Aristophenix broke into a big grin!

Suddenly the insect dive-bombed her a couple times, then began buzzing around her head — all the time chattering in delight.

“But . . .” Denise hesitated. “If he's, you know, dead . . . how can he . . .”

Aristophenix chuckled.

I'm so sorry, Denny I thought that you knew. Fayrahnians have to die, so their lives are renewed.

Denise was lost. “But his tail, Samson's was blue — this one's . . . this one's red.”

In giving life we find it; Sammy boy's passed the test. The red means he's grown up. A citizen like the rest.

“Samson!” she cried. “It is you!” She did her best to throw her arms around him. But hugging a flying bug isn't the easiest thing to do, as Samson zipped in and out of her arms chattering a mile a second.

“What's all that noise out there?” It was Nathan's grandfather. He was in the back room. “Nathan, is that you?”

Aristophenix quickly whispered,

We'd better get a-goin', don't have much time to waste. We'd love to surprise him with a howdy, but heart attacks are in such bad taste.

“Nathan?” Grandpa called again. The lights to the shop snapped on.

Suddenly Denise had a new concern. “Will we ever see you again?” she whispered. She had just lost one good friend and found him; she didn't intend to lose any more.

“Certainly, yes,” Listro Q assured her.

“Are you sure?” It was Nathan's turn to sound worried.

Just put that stone in the moonlight, you know the score after that. Wherever we are or are going, we'll swing by for a little chat.

“Good-bye,” Denise whispered. She gave Listro Q a hug. Then she turned and hugged Aristophenix, burying her face deep into his fur.

“Good-bye,” Nathan said, shaking both of their hands and doing his best imitation of a grown-up . . . until his handshakes also turned into hugs.

Samson gave a chatter.

“And you,” Nathan said, his eyes filling with moisture as he looked up at the bug, “I'll never forget you.”

Samson answered and Listro Q translated, his own voice thick with emotion, “Nor we, you.”

“Nathan?” By now the old man was shuffling up the far aisle toward them. “Nathan, answer me!”

“Quickly!” Aristophenix whispered to Listro Q.

To which Listro Q, with trusty Cross-Dimensionalizer in hand, answered, what else, but, “Cool.”

Turning to the children, Aristophenix whispered,

Our journey's been nifty; it's really been swell. But now we got to be movin', so bye-bye, ta-ta, fare thee . . .

BEEP!........BOP!........BLEEP!.......BURP!....

In a flash of light, the Fayrahnians were gone. And just in time.

“Ah, so there you are,” Grandpa said as he rounded the corner. “And would you mind tellin' me now, just where you've —”

But the poor man never finished his sentence.

Immediately he was attacked by Denise and Nathan, who smothered him with all sorts of hugs. And if that wasn't enough, they both began talking at once, using new words like Bloodstone, Fayrah, Aristophenix, Listro Q —

“Hold it, hold it!” Grandpa shouted until they finally came to a stop. “I asked you a simple question. Now if you don't want to be givin' me a simple answer, then — ”

“But we are giving you an answer,” Nathan insisted.

And once again they bombarded him with even stranger words like Seerlo, Bobok, Keygarp —

Again Grandpa's hands flew up. “If you don't want to be tellin' me the truth, then —”

“But, Grandpa, we are telling the truth!”

The old man gave them a scowl and repeated, “If you don't want to be tellin' me the truth, then I'll be hearin' nothin' until you do.”

Denise and Nathan exchanged glances. By the look of things, the truth wasn't exactly something he was prepared to hear . . . at least for now. Maybe for now it was better to keep their little journey a secret — just between them . . . and all the rest of Fayrah!

Suddenly, a dog began yelping. Denise turned and spotted an adorable black and white puppy scampering down the aisle toward them.

“Ohhh . . . ,” she cooed.

Nathan stooped down to pick him up and immediately received a nonstop face washing.

“Whose is he?” Nathan asked, trying to avoid the wet, slippery tongue that seemed to find every part of his face at the same time.

“Why, he's yours, lad. Don't you remember?”

“But . . . but I have a dog.” Nathan motioned toward Mr. Hornsberry, who sat on the counter near the Bloodstone. Only now he wasn't giving speeches or sounding stodgy or being pompous. In fact, right now he wasn't even moving. Instead, he remained as stuffed and silent as when he'd first been unwrapped.

“But that's just a toy,” Grandpa said. “This one here's real — it's the one you've been saying you wanted.”

Nathan looked back down at the puppy and got another face full of wet tongue.

Denise watched. From years of experience, she knew exactly what Nathan was thinking. Why couldn't he have both dogs? In fact, why couldn't he have as many as he wanted? If he played his cards right, it wouldn't have to stop here, he could get all the puppies he ever dreamed of.

But then Denise saw something else. Nathan was looking over at the Bloodstone. And by the expression on his face, she realized he was thinking other thoughts . . . thoughts of Blood Mountains, of a kingdom of giving, and of a little dragonfly-ladybug with a brand-new taillight.

Suddenly he turned to his Grandfather. “Grandpa, what time is it?”

“A little bit after nine.”

“Do you think the Johnson children will still be awake?”

“Why?” Grandpa asked suspiciously. He obviously knew gears were turning inside Nathan's head. He just couldn't figure out which direction.

“Do you remember when they were here earlier — how badly they wanted a puppy?”

“What's on your mind, lad?”

“I was wondering . . . ,” Nathan continued. “Would it hurt your feelings if I, you know, gave the Johnsons this puppy?”

“Nathan!” Denise didn't mean to scream but she couldn't help it.

“Lad, have you gone daft? I spent nearly every dime on this here fella.”

“I know, and he's super — it's just . . .”

Denise looked on. She could tell this type of thinking was brand new to Nathan, and she wasn't surprised that it took a while for him to put it into words.

“It's just . . . well . . . they wanted a puppy so badly and, you know, I really do have one, and . . .”

“You feeling all right, lad?” Grandpa slipped his hand to the boy's forehead. “No fever . . . no headache?”

Nathan shook his head. “No, I'm fine. Could we, Grandpa? Do you think that would be all right?”

The old man stood there a long moment — first looking at Nathan, then at Denise, then back at Nathan. Then, without a word, he turned and started for the coatrack.

“Where are you going?” Nathan asked.

“After all of these years,” Grandpa said, as he threw on his scarf and coat, “do you think I'd be missing out on seeing you actually give something away?”

“All right!” Nathan shouted.

“Yeah!” Denise laughed. “I'd like to see this myself.”

Nathan shot her one of his famous glares but it quickly turned into a twinkle as they headed for the door.

Denise grinned back. She was almost beginning to like Nathan . . . almost. At least she didn't feel like punching him in the stomach. The thought struck her as a little strange. But then again the entire evening had been strange.

The tiny bell above the door gave a jingle as the three of them stepped out onto the sidewalk. It had started to snow again. A gentle snow — the type that slowly covers the dirt and grime of the city and gently smooths out its harsh edges.

Grandpa locked the door and they turned to head up the street. But as they passed the shop's window, Denise thought she saw something inside. She couldn't be sure, but it looked like a tiny red flicker near the counter. A tiny red flicker that could only come from a strange and very unusual stone. A tiny red flicker that seemed to say their journeys weren't exactly over . . . not yet.

Not by a long ways . . .

Clubhouse hopes you enjoyed The Portal by Bill Myers. The Portal, is book one of the “Imager Chronicles” series and reprinted by permission of Tommy Nelson Publishers.

To read chapters 1 through 12 of The Portal click here.