v) as Fassn communes with the beast

As Fassn communes with the beast, Shyan watches the workings of its features: the hard line of its brow, its nostrils’ flare, its heroic, lantern jaw. When the door speaks, she tosses a few pebbles into its mouth, listens for their clatter beyond — which, to all perception, seems to be the case. When its face again falls still, and Fassn blinks in his daze, Shyan addresses it. “Door,” she says. “May we enter?”
“Sure,” the door says.
An invisible, perfect fracture opens down the centre of the face, and its two constituent doors swing outwards on unseen hinges — perfectly appropriate, for the door leads into unseen depths.
Shyan steps through first, her compatriots behind her.
“Thanks,” she says.
“Sure,” the door says, closing.

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