Page 34

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Liv

The half-beast in my dream looks like the Aspis. It looks like him. Is my mind conjuring this image because I can’t accept that one is not the other?

“ L ook over there.” Maev pointed out two figures in the distance, moving between the trees. They were Mountain monks following a beaten-down path.

I felt nothing from them—they had no magic.

“They’ll lead us in the right direction.” Ollo clapped me on the back, making my spine straighten. His face lit with triumph.

We reached the path and trailed silently behind the monks far ahead.

Ouras’s temple had been hard to find. We had searched the forest, going in circles. If Nuo’s map was correct, we were walking over it.

An eternity later, we discovered why we couldn’t find the temple.

It was not what the three of us were looking for.

We had expected a grand building, shining, drawing in its worshippers.

Instead, a hill covered in roots and shrubs sat hidden, surrounded by three enormous trees—almost as big as Danuli's.

The monks we trailed moved toward a thick gathering of roots and travelled right through them.

A hidden entrance.

“Are all temples this way? So hard to find?” I asked Maev in a whisper.

“I couldn’t tell you. I’ve only visited shrines.”

“What’s the difference?” I had never heard of a shrine.

Sunlight hit my lashes as I passed between the boughs of the cedar, heading for the entrance.

“In Rydavas, we have no temples. So, we built shrines where we could go and pray to our gods. They’re holy structures sculpted in worship to their intended god. Our Day shrines—there’s more than one—all bear symbols of Rem: the sun, the wind and the snow.”

“What do other shrines look like?”

We followed under the branches of the cedar trees, and the twins’ blue skin was a rich contrast to the browns and greens of the mountain forest. I soaked in the differences until we reached the hill, where we all stopped in unison before it.

“The only other shrine I have seen is a massive one by the sea. I flew overtop it once. Mayra’s blue shrine is a day’s flight from our city. The windows are rippled and tinted blue, so you feel like you are swimming in the ocean as you walk its floor.”

“That sounds beautiful.” I paused, searching the area. We had passed no other travellers in the forest or on the path to the temple. “It’s very quiet. Do you think that’s normal?”

“I don’t know what to think. I wish my tracker was operational. We need more crystals.” Maev spun toward her brother. “Who wants to go first? The bold and brave head of Aerial Division One?” She gave me a small smile. “How about the mighty Ikhor?”

“Funny,” I muttered and walked through the vines.

I waited for darkness, damp air and the scent of mould, but things never turned out as I expected them. Behind the vines, a shining stone hall opened, tall and grand, with beautifully woven banners hanging from high on the walls. Light poured in between gaps in the roots, lighting a path forward.

“This is different.” My voice carried through the long hall, bouncing back at me.

“Let’s proceed with utmost caution. We may wear their black Guardians attire, but it won’t take long for others to realize we exhibit none of their qualities. Not one of us can imitate a Mount-leg. Nor do we have Guardian tattoos.” Ollo stepped in next to me, eyeing the end of the hall.

His proud stance gave me courage. Maybe having the head of an Aerial something or other wasn’t a bad idea for a teammate.

We travelled the long hall made of polished stone. Our footsteps echoed, blending with the whispers coming from open doorways. Other passages led to grand libraries, dining rooms, lush sitting rooms and rooms I couldn’t make out their use—all decorated in warm, earthy tones.

Maev was constantly lifting her hands to point and make comments, and Ollo would grab her wrist and lower her arm, shushing her.

We followed the largest halls that led deeper into the hill. Sometimes, the ceiling was so tall the light coming in didn’t quite reach the floor. We passed a dimly lit corridor, light streaming in from the high ceiling, and I stopped at the sight of a massive painting that took up the entire wall.

The Aspis floated in the air, roaring in its rage, and across the great expanse of grey skies, a glowing figure floated, arms outstretched, with red eyes.

Underneath the two legends, monsters with matching red eyes fought figures in black.

Beneath them all was a red sea, bodies of all legacies floating in the dark, ruby depths.

“That’s inspiring,” Ollo whispered.

The Aspis had risen, true to the image. But it was the glowing figure I couldn’t look away from. I swallowed the growing panic, kicking myself mentally.

So far, the legends had been mistaken. This painting was, too.

“Why are there never paintings of the gods?” I asked in a low voice. Not only did I look for an image of Ouras, but I wondered what Mayra and Erabas looked like, too.

“The gods are never depicted.” Ollo checked to make sure no one was listening. “They’re only spoken of, not painted. It isn’t allowed.”

“Sounds like home.”

We passed more posters of the Ikhor screaming—two red-eyed Aethar with white hair were etched alongside it—as we went farther into the temple.

“Oh, please,” Maev muttered at the deformed image of herself.

“I can feel magic here,” I whispered to her.

“The monks?” she asked.

“Could be. It’s strong.”

“There would be many here. But that many purebloods with magic? I don’t know how many still exist.”

I caught glimpses of figures in grand rooms off the main hall, but none paid us any attention as we trekked farther.

A figure dressed in Guardian black leaned against the wall past a large open doorway, their face cloaked in darkness. When they lifted their head as we drew closer, a flash of iridescence stole my breath.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

A pale young female face with dark hair framing serious and haunted eyes latched onto me. Her expression hardened as I stared.

Several other Guardians emerged from the open door, one clapping her on the shoulder and telling her they were ready to leave.

I couldn’t look away.

Kazhi had made it sound like he was the last of his legacy. Yet here was another.

The team of Guardians caught me staring, and they hurried their friend away and out of the temple.

Ollo grabbed my arm, turning me so that we were face to face. “It’s not him, Saviour.”

“How—” I didn’t have the courage to look back at the Night-leg retreating with her friends.

“Night-legs are rare, even in Rydavas. There are few in Avenmae. They are not popular. Many are frightened of them—that they may be cruel like Erabas. I’ve heard that here, they are accused of harbouring the Ikhor.

Either way, they’re blamed and are not welcome.

So they keep to themselves. That one’s brave, being in the open. ”

“I knew it wasn’t him. She was a woman.”

Ollo searched past me at the group leaving. “I don’t know what camp she trained at, but she must have kept her identity hidden as often as possible.”

As we continued farther into the hill, the voices grew louder.

“I think the main chamber of worship is ahead.” Maev pointed toward where the hall opened up into a large circular room.

It had to be where we would call to Ouras because the hum of magic was growing stronger, meaning the monks were there.

The room was the grandest of all. It was as tall as the hill outside, reaching the tops of the trees. The ceiling opened at the apex, leaving a full view of the midday sky. Banners and vines hung from above, where the sun shone down on the monks and the Guardians gathered.

A low baritone sang a hymn that echoed off the rounded walls, making it impossible to tell where the voice came from. The beautiful voice sang in tune with the hum of magic, enchanting me. I was being pulled, calmed, and excited by it.

Alcoves of all sizes decorated the outskirts of the chamber, where some sat with their eyes closed, praying, while others knelt on the floor before a giant statue.

A statue of Ouras.

The carved figure sat on a throne of shining stone, similar to the floors.

The statue was crafted from copper, stained to blend with the earth and roots.

But the veins in the statue had a striped pattern to them, like an animal.

The statue towered over the room, the top of it hidden in shadow, obscuring how the sculptor depicted the god’s face.

Perhaps, like the painting, the gods weren’t meant to be seen.

There were figures at its feet praying and some lazing on the dais. My face warmed when I realized the women worshipping at the statue’s feet were partially nude. Some were petting it while touching themselves.

“Ummm.” I stared for too long before I looked away, my face becoming hot, and I stupidly turned to Ollo.

And if the beautiful blue man’s gaze didn’t dart down to my mouth.

He went stiff before awkwardly stepping away.

Was Maev right? Was Ollo flirting with me before?

Maev had taken off, and I dashed to catch up with her as she approached the edge of the chamber. Luckily, those around us ignored us. Not so lucky was that she walked closer to the woman idolizing the statue.

I had been told the temples collected worshippers. I had no idea the ways in which they worshipped.

I blinked past the humming working its way into my chest—the hymn was getting louder. Or was I closer to the monks?

Many Guardians, all Mount-legs, were here. Monks and citizens mixed in with those sitting to the side, their eyes closed as their lips moved in prayer.

We reached the foot of the statue, and I craned my neck to look up. Still, I couldn’t see into the shadows to make out the carved face of Ouras.

“It’s huge,” I said. “Do you think this is what he looks like?”