Dark Calling by Darren Shan

frown.
    “Of course,” Art says. “They hate all life-forms. You are not the first to suffer at their hands. And you won’t be the last.
     Far from it.”
    Other creatures gather around us, joining the dance. Their movements become more involved, dozens of different species sweeping
     around one another, every blink of an eye or swish of a tail carefully choreographed. Through the crush I spot something weird
     rising from the depths.
    “Is that a chessboard?” I ask. It’s much bigger than any board I’ve ever seen, but it’s the right shape, with the usual arrangement
     of black and white squares.
    “There are Boards like this on almost all the worlds where we have had an influence,” Art says. “The Boards are central to
     the development of intelligence. Some species forget about them as they evolve, but most remember in one way or another.”
    “I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about chess?”
    “The game means nothing,” Art answers. “The
Board
is everything.”
    Something about the way he stresses the word sparks a memory. I recall a visit I paid to Lord Loss’s kingdom several years
     ago. The demon master loves chess. One of the rooms in his web-based castle was full of sets. He produced a board that he
     referred to as the original Board. Each square was a self-contained universe of its own, filled with an array of demons.
    “Yes,” Art says before I can form a question. “That was the Board we used on your world.”
    “I still don’t understand,” I frown. “The Board was just a toy.”
    “The Boards are not toys,” Art says. “Each is a map of the original universe, a link to the past before time.”
    “You’re talking gibberish,” I scowl.
    “It will become clear soon,” Art assures me, then pushes through a gap that the sea creatures have created. “Come. I am fully
     rested, and the dance has moved into its final arc. It is time for us to depart.”

TAKING TO THE SKIES

    W E skip from one world to another, chamber to chamber, through the sub-universe of strange lights. I try to figure out how the
     windows are being opened, hoping to use the information to break free and make my way back home. But I don’t know how Art
     gets the panels to pulse and merge.
    “Tell me about yourself,” I suggest, partly to break the monotony, partly to learn more about my mysterious guide.
    “What do you wish to know?” he replies.
    “Where are you from? Beranabus only said that the Old Creatures were beings of ancient, powerful magic, who left our world
     long ago.”
    “We leave every planet eventually,” Art sighs. “We are nomads, moving from one world to another, never settling.”
    “But you must have a home,” I press. “Everyone comes from somewhere.”
    “Not us,” Art says. “We are of the original universe. We had no beginning.”
    “That doesn’t make sense,” I grunt.
    “It will—” Art begins.
    “— soon,”
I finish sarcastically.
    “Sorry,” Art says. “I know this is hard. But there is much we have to tell you and it is complicated.”
    “Let’s try something simpler then.” I think about the sort of things I’d ask any stranger. “How old are you?”
    Art makes a sound like someone clearing their throat.
    “Oh, come on,” I shout. “Surely you can tell me that much.”
    “There is no easy answer,” Art says. “We are as old as this universe but we existed before it. In the original universe, there
     was no such thing as time. We were not born. We did not age. We simply
were.
”
    “You can’t be as old as the universe,” I challenge him. “It’s billions of years old. Nothing lives for that long.”
    “We do,” Art insists. “We exist as spheres of light, and light is almost ageless.”
    “
Almost?
You’re not immortal?”
    “Not anymore,” Art says.
    “This is crazy,” I mutter.
    “Be patient,” Art urges. “By the end of this journey we’ll reveal the secrets of the universe, the origins of life, and the
     cause of