Septimus and Lana appeared behind us, and then Syrina. The scry hummed quietly and went silent.
The pier wasn’t empty at this time of day. The mortals who milled about, walking along the wooden planks, eating food and slurping at drinks, took one look at us and turned in the opposite direction. I knew they were used to seeing elven on the mainland – Lana had told me as much. The governor of Dorisport often had meetings with the elven to broker trade agreements, and they were free to come and go as they pleased, so long as they kept to the terms of the peace treaty by blessing the land and only ever taking the mortals needed for the Trials.
Kilian paid them no mind as he tugged on my hand, pulling me away from the dock. I could hear the others’ footsteps behind me as we hurried across the quay, toward a set of steps. The scry had brought us to the closest beacon near the Amber Temple, and I could see the pointed peak of its centermost turret. It was a solid block with a sharp spire made entirely of amber. The gemstone glistened in the setting sun, the orange glow of the sky seeming to set it ablaze.
Even at this time, mortals gathered outside, pointing out the architecture and history. The slabs of amber which made up the temple had been stacked and arranged so that several smaller chambers formed a semicircle around the larger chamber in the center, the one the tallest turret rose from. A large archway was nestled right in the middle, against the centermost chamber. The door was left open, and mortals spilled out as a bell chimed.
“It’s the last prayers of the day,” Lana said, gesturing to those who were slipping their shoes back on at the base of the temple.
If only they knew their gods were closer than they thought.
When the last of the mortals had filtered out, we strode for the temple. The steps echoed beneath my feet, and I felt an odd sense of familiarity wash over me as I entered the chamber. Stained glass and mosaic murals decorated the windows and walls. There were several washbasins lined against the wall and an altar at the epicenter. Thirteen statues made of amber circled the dais. I peered up into the faces of the gods.
It was clear that the statues had been hewn by hand, and I did not recognize any of the faces set in stone.
“Over time, many of the gods have chosen new bodies to occupy,” Kilian murmured beside me as I peered up at a stunning female. Her eyes were closed, lips curled into a gentle smile. “That was once Winipyr. And this is how I remember Aerie.” He pointed to a statue on the opposite end.
The female’s face was perfectly symmetrical, so beautiful my chest constricted. Whoever had carved the statue had managed to capture the wrath and fury that burned in her eyes. She held a sharp, angular helmet. With a pang, I realized I had seen it before, falling to my feet on a sandy beach.
“We should keep moving.” I tore my gaze from the statue. Whoever I had once been, it was patently clear that I was not her anymore.
Septimus, Lana and Syrina had moved past the statues and were now heading through a second, smaller chamber. I followed them, Kilian trailing behind me. The second chamber was not as decorated as the first. It only housed a set of wooden pews before a wide altar.
“Over here,” Septimus called from behind the altar. It seemed as though a hidden door had been fixed into its back. It was dark inside, but I could see the top of a set of steps leading further down.
“This leads to Tuscan?” Lana asked dubiously.
“It’s a portal, yes. Only a god can open the doorway,” Septimus explained. “It’s not too late to chicken out, sunshine.”
“I’ll show you ‘chicken’,” Lana huffed and stepped across the threshold. She turned to look back at us. “Well, are you coming?”
Septimus grinned and followed suit. Syrina went next.
Kilian gripped my wrist, spinning me toward him before I could cross into the stairwell. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, and my hand rose automatically to cup his cheek.
“What was that for?” I breathed.
He ran his nose along my neck, and I shivered. “In case I don’t get the chance to do it in Tuscan. I don’t want to regret not kissing you at every chance I get.”
“There’ll be plenty more chances,” I murmured, my eyes shuttering as I breathed him in.
“I know.” His hand skimmed my side, reaching for my own. I let him pull me through the altar and into the depths below.
The steps were steep and the darkness endless. It consumed me the second I entered the stairwell. But Kilian’s hand clasped mine, his grip steady as he guided me through the descent. Eventually the stairs plateaued, the ground evening out, and, in the distance, a pinprick of light appeared.
The light grew steadily larger the further we walked. My eyes strained as crushing darkness gave way to milky twilight. I stepped onto soft sand, my boots sinking into the ground. The sound of roaring waves crashing over rocks greeted me, along with the scent of salty air. My eyes flickered shut as an ocean breeze stirred the loose strandsof hair at my neck. We were on a beach. Waves lapped at the shore, leaving frothy white foam in its wake. Up ahead, I could make out the silhouette of mountain peaks, covered by a layer of fog.
Lush vegetation sprouted beyond the beach, rolling hills of green as far as my eyes could see. A heady sense of ease filled me, the kind of feeling you only got from being back home. It was both familiar and foreign, the sense of déjà vu. My brain felt like it was hurtling through misty space and time, searching for the right pieces to slot into place.
Syrina’s head was tilted to the sky, and I followed her gaze. I knew we were no longer in Tarlor because there wasn’t a single star in the sky. Pale moonlight cast our surroundings aglow, but aside from that, the sky was cloudless and barren.
Apprehension coursed through me.
I looked at Kilian and whispered, “Where are all the stars?”
Kilian swiveled slowly on the spot, his eyes raking across the beach, the land, and finally, the sky. Agitation lined the corners of his mouth. Septimus faced us, a similar look on his face.
“I haven’t been back here in centuries,” Septimus murmured. “But something doesn’t feel right about this place.”
