The forest of rocks gave way to a more barren landscape, a plain of flattened, oval stones that slipped and slid beneath her feet. She glanced about uneasily - if Cerberus were to approach now they would have an easy advantage. Small, scraggly trees pushed their way out from amongst the pebbles, their leaves a rusty, desiccated red.
"Behold the gates," the Grimalkyn sang, darted back to run rings around her. Where he got his energy from was beyond her. She was exhausted, her incident with Cerberus seemed to have drained some of her energy from her and it took huge effort to drag her over-heavy wings across the shifting shale and towards the shining white gates.
They were impressive, and familiar, although it was the sort of familiarity that comes when remembering a dream. Two ivory pillars had grown from the shale, placed about ten paces apart. Atop each pillar crouched a beautifully crafted gargoyle - a cat-bird, one clawed forepaw raised, the other some sort of winged gazelle with only one horn that sprouted from the middle of the forehead. The pillars provided the support for a most elaborate gate. Every railing took the form of a twisted piece of vine, curled around one another and upon which perched delicate ivory insects and birds. A hummingbird, captured forever in mid flight, sipped nectar from a flower so real Kataryna felt that if she touched it she would find it soft and slightly rubbery.
As she reached out to push the gate open, several of the ivory insects took to the air, buzzing and whirring and the hummingbird fluttered once around her head, its wings a blur to return shortly thereafter to its original, and motionless, position.
"She wishes to pass through the ivory gates," the unicorn observed, shifting its position to stare down at her from not-quite-lifeless white eyes.
"Is she worthy?" The gryphon queried.
The Grimalkyn darted about, amusing himself by chasing the ivory insects until they returned to their perches. Kataryna merely stood, regarding the two gargoyles, unsure if they were talking to her, or merely about her.
"There is a taint of sin upon her soul," the unicorn appraised her, head cocked on one side. "A crime she has committed, yes?"
"A crime that would have her condemned?" The gryphon frowned, shifting its position to glare at her.
"She has been here before," the unicorn continued. "She is special."
Bored with his rather fruitless herding, the Grimalkyn crouched back on his haunches. "It is she-who-walks-between-worlds," he explained, enunciating each word slowly, presumerably so as it could be understood by the gargoyle's stone ears. "She will enter, so forget your doubts and open the gate."
The gargoyles noticed him for the first time.
"It is the little dream-cat," the gryphon commented. "I wonder what mischief he brings."
"I can creep and I can climb," was his response, "now open these gates or you shall be shamed."
"Look," said Kataryna, feeling faintly embarrassed, "I can always just walk around." And she could - for there was no wall, and all she could see through the grill on the gate was more of the endless sea of oval pebbles.
This comment went completely ignored, not even worthy of response from any of the three conversants.
"Very well," the unicorn conceded after much contemplation. The two gargoyles resumed their original position.
And very slowly, the gates swung open.
Kataryna stepped through the Ivory Gates.
Again.