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CHAPTER 29
Ifollowed my motheras she raced up the stairs of the Temple of Vela, my small hand caught in hers.
We burst through the temple's ancient wooden doors, our footsteps echoing through the hallowed halls. Inside, the air was thick with sweet-smelling incense, swirling wisps of fragrant smoke curling around the towered pillars that lined the vast rotunda.
My heart pounded as my mother hurried us towards the heart of the temple.
There, a massive stone arch stood behind a pristine white marble altar.
My mother let go of my hand. Drawing a silver dagger from inside her cloak, she pressed the edge to her own palm.
A drop of crimson welled forth.
Holding her hand high, she let the blood fall onto the altar.
The hair along my arms prickled as a rush of wind blew through the rotunda.
I stepped forward, already knowing what would be required of me. Holding my small palm outstretched, I tried not to flinch as the dagger cut into my flesh.
My mother squeezed a drop of my blood upon the altar, then caught me up in her arms and squeezed me tightly. I could feel her shaking as she held me.
Her fear was infectious.
But we were together.
Holding me on her hip, she went around the altar and to the stone arch behind it.
For a moment, we stood upon the threshold.
My mother stepped forward into the arch.
For a moment, the space inside was dark and terrifyingly empty.
Then thousands upon thousands of stars sparkled to life around us. I reached out a hand, trying to grasp one, laughing out loud as pinpricks of light surrounded us.
My mother's arms were still around me, enfolding me in her timeless embrace. I felt her boundless love, her unwavering protection.
Overcome by weariness, my eyelids flickered as my head drooped against her chest.
The starlight faded.
My eyes closed.
Someone was calling to me.
“Morgan!”
I knew the voice. Boyish and high-pitched. Heart-tuggingly familiar.
“Morgan, I see you. Can you see me? What is this place?”
