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The sandstone walls held no windows, only a large, open doorway leading into the dark interior.
“You can’t glow again like you did last night, can you?” Tempest remarked.
Sylvia released a nervous chuckle. “I wish. I hate the dark almost as much as I hate the feeling of being trapped.”
Before entering, Tempest investigated the stones of the doorway for any markings. Maybe there would be a clue about any traps inside or a way to light their way. She brushed her fingers against the swirls and circles etched into the stone, then stopped and moved her hand back over an irregularly shaped oval. Stepping back so she could see the doorway as a whole, Tempest counted twelve of them in the frame. Tempest approached one of the ovals and put her hand over it again.
“Does this feel different to you?”
Sylvia approached and swiped her fingers over it. “It feels… warm.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Moving her fingers again, Tempest touched several other ovals. “They all do. I wonder…”
Tempest tapped on the oval. A small piece of sandstone fell away to reveal a hint of black underneath. If this was what she thought it was, she dreaded what they would find inside.
She began to chip away at the sandstone to reveal more black underneath. Seeing what she was doing, Sylvia did the same with another oval. Soon, the thin layer coating revealed an entirely black stone underneath. Tempest mentally kicked herself for not bringing a blade with her as she dug her nails around the edges and pried it out of the wall.
“It’s an egg!” Sylvia exclaimed, her voice raising a few octaves. Her fingers scrabbled at the edges of the egg she had been uncovering, and soon she too held one in her now bloody hands.
“Shake it slightly and press your fingers against it to seal the scrapes on your fingertips.”
Sylvia did as Tempest suggested and hissed when her egg grew hot. “How do I get it to cool back down now?”
Tempest shook hers with a small groan. “You don’t. We need them hot so they can glow and light our way within. Phoenix eggs that will soon hatch heat up when you upset the hatchling inside.”
Sylvia’s jaw dropped as she looked back and forth between her now-glowing egg and Tempest. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I was.”
“You don’t think…”
Tempest nodded. “Unfortunately, I do think.”
Sylvia stared at her egg a moment and lifted the bottom of her dress, dropping the egg within the fold she had created. “All right, then. At least if it’s going to be this hot to touch, we don’t have to carry it with our bare hands.”
“At least, not until your dress catches on fire.”
Sylvia’s eyes grew wider before a look of determination settled on her face. “We will cross that bridge when we have to.” With a deep breath, she turned and entered the dark building.
Tempest was right on her heels. Soon the light from the doorway faded away, and they could only see each other’s outlines in the dim glow of their eggs.
Sylvia suddenly stumbled, and Tempest grabbed the back of her dress to catch her. She pulled her upright, and they looked down. A staircase descended into the darkness below them.
With nowhere else to go, Tempest tested the first few steps. The constant stillness troubled her. What was waiting for them ahead? She decided the stairs were safe, and they descended.
A welcome green and blue glow rippled across the walls as they entered an underground cavern. A small pool of water with glowing stones lining the bottom sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by four pedestals, each with a different size and shape of bowl placed atop it. One bowl was large, gold, and embellished with bright red rubies. Another was made of smooth crystal. The one nearest them had been carved from white marble, with wings etched along the rim. The last bowl was bright green jade with golden veins running through it.
Tempest approached the pool and looked within. A wooden ladle and bucket floated at the edge. A hand grabbed her wrist as she reached for them, and a woman composed of water arose.
“This pool is as pure as your heart must be to take from it,” she crooned. “The bowls will be your judge. Choose carefully, or this place on your search for the feather of fate may become your tomb.”
The woman removed her hand from Tempest’s wrist and offered her a private smile. The daughter of Zarya, goddess of the sea, and Eshum, god of healing, this sprite had been born of a fleeting love. Cast aside once it was over, Tempest had helped her rectify her broken heart. While Tempest most often helped with scorned lover, the broken heart of a child was something she couldn’t ignore. She was tempted to ask the sprite how she had come to be in the cave, but chose to be silent instead.
“So, we need to put water in a bowl to get out of here?” Sylvia asked.
“It sounds like it,” Tempest answered as she dipped the bucket to fill it and set the ladle within. “I’m guessing only one will get us out of here. The rest are likely boobytrapped—the cave collapses, the pool floods the room, the stairs seal off, and we get trapped in here; that sort of thing.”
