Page 59
Story: The Source of Storms
With our weapons relinquished, the gates swung open. We stepped into the Temple courtyard and my eye was drawn immediately to that wellspring of power at its center. A tiered stone fountain sent a shower of water vaulting skyward and cascading back over its smooth edges. The water sparkled with power, with life. This Temple was not here only because it was the highest hill in the city.
The fountain was encircled by six ash trees, healthy but sprawling and twisted with age. I could feel their life like bright green paint splashed against the dead stone backdrop of the courtyard. There were flowers and hedges, some other perfectly manicured plant life, but the rest of the courtyard was clean, smooth stone, chiseled to squared edges and straight lines.
Byrgir said, “That was a nice charm, El. See, this is why normal humans don’t trust fae folk. Full of sneaky tricks.”
“You trust me,” El countered.
“He’s not a normal human,” I said.
“More normal than you, demon woman,” Byrgir said to me, although that particular joke could have been directed at either of us.
“Careful. You may be bigger than me, but I still have a dagger.”
He chuckled softly with light amusement, and perhaps a hint of pride. “You don’t think I’d let them take everything from me, would you?” He tapped the side of one boot with the toe of the other as we walked. I smiled.
“Damn, am I the only one who didn’t bring a knife to this meeting?” El asked, but with that conspiratorial twinkle in her voice again. I glanced at her as she stood admiring the fountain and caught the flicker of a blade of dancing flame appearingin her hand. It was both sharp and solid, yet as intangible and ghostly as fire itself. I couldn’t tell if it would cut, burn, or both.
“You know, before Avanis was ‘crowned’ with this temple, this hill and its spring were already a sacred place of worship,” El said as we walked through the shade of the ash trees. “Before Enos became the sanctioned god of the kingdom and the many old gods were pushed aside, there were shrines here for them. Our people and others would come here to pray, to be purified in its waters and to celebrate.”
Our people. Warmth spread in my chest for just a moment. I liked the sound of that.
I looked ahead at the Temple, and felt that warmth drain away again. It was perched at the true highest peak of the city, overlooking the courtyard. Vaulting towers of ornately carved stone were interspersed with thick, colored windows like nothing I had ever seen. Twisted faces of snarling monsters, placid visages of winged women and robed men reaching with outstretched arms. Symbols I didn’t recognize, along with great twisting branches of trees, were all etched into the building’s face. Some even leaned out far, far above, forming carved rain gutters that would funnel water from stone pitchers cradled in women’s arms or lion’s mouths opened in silent roars.
The front face of the temple rose to a high peak pointing upwards, set forward from the rest of the building. Tall, arch-shaped wooden doors waited at the top of the stairs leading up to the front. High above the doors, a ring of glinting gold was suspended from the side of the temple over the stairs, so that those standing beneath could look directly up through the circle. Within the ring, hanging in open air, was a seventh ash tree. Its roots dangled in space as its green boughs reached up to the sky. It appeared vital and fresh, despite its strange habitat.
In the front wall, higher than the gold ring and floating tree, was a gargantuan circular window. Other wings of thebuilding stretched out in either direction, multiple floors with high balconies. Towers had been built out from the sides of walls, reaching higher than other floors, with stone walkways bridging between them. The top corners of all the facades rose in sweeping points.
“Holy shit,” Byrgir exhaled.
“How the hell are we going to find her in there?” I asked.
“Hopefully we won’t have to, and they’ll just show us where she is,” Byrgir answered.
“This might be a job for Crow after all,” El murmured.
“Only one way to find out.” I climbed the stairs leading to the entrance and reached out to push against the carved doors.
Before I could touch them, they swung open. In front of me stood two robed figures, their heads bowed. They lifted their gaze to me in unison and, before I could even think to greet them, I drew in an involuntary breath.
Two women stood before me, young, and by any account beautiful and healthy. But my attention was drawn immediately, terribly, to their mouths. Both wore thick piercings through their upper and lower lips: One in the center of their upper lip, cradled in the soft dip beneath their nose, and two more below their lower lip. Woven between the metal studs anchored into their lips was a chain that formed a triangle between the three piercings. Dangling from the top piercing and joining the lower chain was a delicate gold lock, ornately etched with filigree and set with a tiny keyhole. Through each cheek, near their mouths, was another stud, connected by two chains that joined into a singular one at the bridge of their noses and ran up to attach to a circlet around their foreheads.
They smiled––at least as much of a smile as they could manage, a gentle lift of just the corners of their mouths––and I recovered my composure. I knew what it was like to shock people with my appearance, and didn’t want them to experiencethat shame. Although, in all fairness, my eyes were not within my control, and I hoped, prayed, that these piercings were their own choices.
“Hello, we’re hoping to speak with one of the Deacons.” I hesitated. “We’re looking for a friend.”
They nodded, and one woman invited us in with a delicate sweep of her arm.
My eyes adjusted to the dimness as we stepped into a large entrance hall. Ahead of us was another set of doors, slightly ajar, and beyond them must have been the main Temple. I could see the lofty ceiling and cavernous space, but no other details.
The woman turned left and gave a nod, keeping her head bowed and eyes down. She was young. So young. Younger than Noirin, by the looks of her. How had she ended up in a place like this with her mouth bolted shut? A quick shared glance with Byrgir told me he was thinking the same.
We fell into obedient step behind her, our footfalls echoing down the stone hall where her soft-slippered soles were silent. She led us through a maze of halls, intersections split by peaked archways, carved window frames opening to the occasional tiny courtyard. We passed a few other robed anchorites, as the guard had called them. Some were bare faced and spoke quietly. A few more wore the same locked piercings across their mouths and did not speak at all.
I unraveled my tightly gathered awareness as we walked through the complex. Slowly at first, I let it slide out around me, roving over people within sight and behind closed doors. I could feel El next to me doing the same, searching. But I got nowhere. My efforts were resisted by the atmosphere of the Temple, squashed down by some weight I couldn’t see. Those wards were within as well.
∞∞∞
We climbed a set of stairs and stopped outside a closed door. I did my best to mentally retrace our path as our guide knocked gently.
Table of Contents
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- Page 59 (Reading here)
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