Page 33

FENELLA

T he workshop exceeded Fenella's expectations, although the truth was that she hadn't known what she expected to find.

It wasn't just the huge number of figurines, although there were hundreds of them lining shelves, covering workbenches, and tucked into every available space.

It was the sheer energy that pulsed from them.

Her psychometric ability, even without touching anything and without Kyra and Jasmine augmenting it, thrummed with awareness, compelling her to touch everything.

She felt like a vampire who smelled blood.

Bad analogy, but whatever. "Holy mother of pearl," she breathed, turning in a slow circle. "Look at all of that."

Each figurine was unique, capturing not just physical features but the essence of the person portrayed. That was the hallmark of true artistry. Very few could achieve that ineffable quality.

One was of a warrior woman with fierce eyes and a proud chin. Another of a child caught mid-laugh, joy radiating from the stone. An elderly man whose carved face held mirth and wisdom, his expression conveying his amusement at the folly of youth.

"Don't touch anything," Max warned.

"I wasn't going to," Fenella said, but her fingers were itching to make contact, to dive into the memories these pieces must hold. "This is his life's work."

Din moved closer to examine a section of shelving. "I think they are organized according to a timeline. The style evolves subtly over time."

He was right. She was no expert on antiques or even on styles, but the pieces on the higher shelves looked older and displayed a different technique than those on the lower shelves, which were newer and showed refinements in method and experiments with different stones and pigments.

It was like watching Esag's artistic abilities grow over the centuries.

"But where's the artist?" Max asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "This place is obviously in active use. Some of these pieces are still damp."

"Someone's coming," Kalugal said sharply, and everyone tensed.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor above, belonging to more than one person. There were three of them.

"Defensive positions," Max ordered quietly. "But don't look aggressive. We are the trespassers here, and we didn't come to fight."

Din pulled Fenella back and tucked her behind his solid frame.

She wanted to protest and say that she wasn't some damsel who needed protecting, but common sense prevailed as the tactical part of her brain recognized the wisdom.

She wasn't a warrior. Her value was in her ability, not her fighting skills.

The footsteps stopped just outside the entrance. Then three figures appeared in the doorway.

The one in the center had to be Esag. Tall and lean, with flame-red hair and freckles.

His face was young. Like all immortals, there had been no weathering over the thousands of years of his existence, but his eyes held the weight of that long life.

He wore simple clothes, dust-covered from work, but his hands bore no signs of wear.

Immortal healing made them look like the hands of a scholar, not a craftsman.

The two flanking him were dark-haired, one slightly taller than the other, both carrying themselves with the easy confidence of warriors despite their civilian clothing.

They weren't threatening, not really, but they exuded confidence that implied they didn't consider the immortals and humans in front of them particularly dangerous, and that was a little scary.

Kalugal, Ell-rom, Max, and Din were not weaklings, and Esag and his friends' assessment of them must have revealed that.

For a long moment, the groups simply stared at each other. The tension in the room ratcheted up another notch.

"Well," Esag finally said in proper English, sounding like he had grown up in London. "This is unexpected, and I don't know if I should say that I'm glad to discover that not all immortals are dead, as my companions and I believed, or not."

"We come in peace." Kalugal lifted his hands. "And before we commence with introductions, I want to apologize for breaking into your workshop and reiterate that I will pay for the new locks and their installation."

Esag smiled. "I saw your message on the security camera. Couldn't you have waited until our arrival?"

"I apologize again, but our group attracted a lot of attention, and I wanted to get everyone inside for their safety. Especially the ladies."

Esag nodded. "Your apology is accepted. Now, please tell us who you are, how you found us, and why you searched for us."

"My name is Kalugal, and these are my companions. We came looking for you, Esag. We didn't know whether your two companions survived as well."

Confusion creased Esag's brow. "How do you know my name? And how is it possible that you are here? We thought all the immortals perished with the gods. You are the first ones we’ve encountered in five thousand years. How did you know to look for me?"

"Your figurines." Fenella stepped out from behind Din despite his attempt to keep her back. "The ones you made of the people you thought lost. Kalugal is a collector, and he discovered three of them. They led us to you."

His name had been carved on the bottom of the figurine she’d seen in her vision, so for now, that explanation should suffice. Too much information all at once would shock the poor guy.

Esag's face went white. His companions moved closer, protective, but he waved them back.

"Which figurines?" he asked.

"The one that started our search was of Gulan, nowadays going by the name of Wonder."

"Gulan." The name came out as barely a whisper. "You found my carving of Gulan, and you speak of her as if you know her, just using a different name."

"We do," Max said. "Gulan was buried and in stasis until not too long ago.

Construction started where she was, and a water pipe burst. That's how she was revived.

Poor thing didn't remember who she was and what had happened to her, but eventually, her memories returned, and the merciful Fates led her to our clan. "

"Clan?" One of Esag's companions tilted his head in confusion.

"Perhaps we should all sit down for this," Kalugal suggested.

"Of course." Esag waved a hand toward his large worktable. "Roven and Davuh will get another bench."

So, those were their names. The Clan Mother had told them about the two Guardians who had accompanied Esag on his search for Gulan, but Fenella had forgotten them.

Once both benches had been dusted and the table cleared, they all somehow squeezed into the available space.

Kalugal cleared his throat and assumed the mantle of authority that came so naturally to him. "We search on behalf of someone who never gave up hope of finding other survivors. Someone who is very dear to you and who survived the bombing of the assembly because she escaped beforehand."

Fenella had to hand it to Kalugal. The guy knew how to build up suspense.

Esag regarded him with suspicious eyes. "None of the gods escaped. If they did, we would have felt their presence, their influence on these wretched humans."

"Maybe some did," Kalugal said.

One of Esag's companions shook his head. "We went back, years later, when the poison had faded. There was no one left. The assembly hall was a crater, the palace turned into rubble, and everyone and everything were dead for many kilometers in all directions."

"As I said, the goddess escaped before the bombing."

"Who?" the taller companion asked.

"Before I answer that," Kalugal said, "I need to know who I'm talking to. Are you Davuh or Roven?"

"I'm Davuh, and this perpetual optimist on Esag's other side is Roven.

We were tasked with retrieving Gulan, who escaped with a caravan heading for Egypt, but regrettably, we didn't reach her in time.

We thought that she perished in the earthquake that preceded the bombing.

" He cast a glance at Esag. "You said you saw it in your dream. "

Esag nodded. "Sometimes I get prophetic dreams. I know they are special because I feel like I'm right there when they are happening.

They don't have the same quality as regular dreams." He shook his head.

"I see the events unfolding through the eyes of someone who was there, but I can't do anything to change the event or the outcome.

I'm trapped in the past as a helpless observer.

I hate those dreams. I hate seeing people I care about dying or being buried alive.

" He leveled his gaze at Kalugal. "Who was the one who survived? Tell me."

Kalugal smiled. "The princess. The most radiant one."

Fenella had a feeling that Kalugal wasn't going to tell Esag about Areana and Toven yet. He wanted to make sure that Esag and his companions were trustworthy first.

For a long moment, Esag and his two friends just gaped, and then Esag whispered, "Annani is alive?"

Kalugal nodded. "She is alive, and she is the Mother of the Clan. The matriarch of many immortals. Your princess singlehandedly preserved the traditions and knowledge of the gods and helped humanity, or at least part of it, to make strides toward enlightenment as the gods had intended."

Davuh swayed on the bench, Roven made a sound that might have been a sob, but it was Esag's reaction that broke Fenella's heart. He seemed to crumple, his head falling into his hands.

"I can't believe she's alive," Esag murmured. "It makes sense, though. Who else would have fought for women while Mortdh's patriarchal sacrilege ruled supreme?"

"She sent us to find you," Fenella said.

"It was the figurines," Kalugal explained.

"I found the one you made of Wonder, I mean Gulan, many years ago.

My mate, Jacki, who can read memories and emotions embedded in objects, held it in her hand and saw what happened to Gulan.

You must have embedded your dream into the figurine you carved of her. "