Chapter 15
Eleni
Iemerged from what had been a wonderfully relaxing moment in a hot spring to find myself in a less pleasant reality.
I felt weak and my mind foggy. At least, the excruciating pain that had been tearing me asunder was gone.
But I felt like a leaf, barely hanging on to its tree.
The slightest breeze would tear me off that limb and sweep me away.
A part of me wanted it to happen, to finally be free of this hollowness, of the fracture deep within where something foreign festered. My mind desperately wanted to fade. But Lyall’s strong arms around me as he flew towards the temple kept me going, kept me wanting to cling to that shell of a life.
Still, with every flap of his wings, I braced for another attack. I wouldn’t survive it. The mere sight of anything coming at us might suffice to finish me off.
Thankfully, it never came.
The air chilled as we climbed higher towards one of the peaks of the mountain.
Lyall closed his arms more tightly around me, the soft fur of his body keeping me warm.
Then a passage suddenly opened before us.
My mate descended towards it, and my heart soared upon seeing the majestic entrance to the temple up ahead at the end of the pass.
Unless one knew of its location, you would never think of looking for it here.
Once more, I braced for another trap or ambush. But Lyall landed unimpeded in front of the stone stairs leading up to the massive doorway. It was flanked by two large statues of guardian wolves carved directly into the face of the mountain.
He shifted back into his human form as he climbed the stairs.
I wanted to cast a detection spell in search of any signs of foul play, but I had neither the strength nor the focus necessary for it.
My eyelids weighed a ton. At a visceral level, I believed that if I allowed myself to close my eyes longer than a blink, they would never reopen.
The prospect of sweet oblivion tempted me more than any words could ever express.
But I wasn’t a quitter. We had come too far to give up now. And more importantly, I didn’t want to leave Lyall behind. I didn’t want to go to any place where he couldn’t follow.
The heavy doors parted with a will of their own as we made our approach.
The grinding noise of rock against rock should have been much louder than the almost discreet one that reached my ears.
Also we weren’t greeted by complete darkness, the very dim ambient light provided just enough for us to get a glimpse of the interior of the massive temple, which ended up being far bigger than the exterior led us to believe.
It consisted of a single rectangular room with two large alcoves on the left and right side of the entrance.
Each one contained a purification fountain.
Straight ahead in the main hall, a series of tall columns led the way to an exquisitely carved altar at the feet of an immense effigy of Hecate.
The statue had been sculpted directly into the wall, in a recessed nook overlooking the room.
It was a classic representation of the goddess as three women in one, her hands holding her symbols consisting of the key, the torches, the snake, and the dagger.
A torch hung on each of the four columns closest to the altar—two on each side.
To my surprise, Lyall didn’t take me directly to the altar, but went to the large alcove left of the entrance instead.
I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but only slurred sounds came out.
He sat me at the edge of the large fountain then proceeded to undress me. Only then did I understand his purpose.
A wave of love filled my heart as he gently, methodically washed me.
The care and love with which he handled me moved me to my core.
I hadn’t been dirty per se, but the wounds inflicted by the Djarins had left some blood smears on me.
Anyway, there was a reason for purification fountains to be placed inside a temple.
Presenting oneself to the goddess while still sullied significantly reduced the chances of our pleas to be well received.
He fetched one of the towels stacked in a little nook at the back of the alcove and thoroughly dried me.
He then put on me the simple but elegant black dress the Lycan female had given him for me.
I knew that the Lycans had multiple stashes of clothes scattered throughout the mountains in various shelters so that they could dress whenever they came out of their wolf forms away from their home.
I wondered if it came from one of them. But it felt a little too fancy for that.
Whatever the source, I was grateful for it.
I could only hope to survive this night so that I could properly thank them for literally saving my life when they didn’t even know me.
My pulse picked up as he carried me to the altar.
The dizziness and hollowness I felt steadily amplified.
If not for the Djarins’ attack, I might have been able to wait until tomorrow for the full moon.
But I could feel myself quickly fading away.
Unless this ritual worked, I wouldn’t make it past the next couple of hours.
Lyall carefully laid me down, arranging my head and my limbs in a comfortable position as I felt too weary to even lift my hand.
He leaned forward, caressed my cheek, then gently kissed my lips.
The love in his eyes almost had me tearing up.
But it was the worry he desperately tried to hide that had my chest constricting.
He straightened and turned around to face the statue. He spread his arms and lifted his palms facing up in a stance of open humility.
“Hecate, great goddess of witchcraft and magic, of crossroads, of doorways and transitions, hear my cry. You who bring light to darkness, who hold the key to every secret and to every door, and who freely travel between the realms of life and death, I beseech you, hear my cry.”
He glanced at me over his shoulder and gestured one hand in my direction before returning his attention to the statue.
“Great goddess of magic, your daughter lies before you, torn and hollow, with half of her soul hovering at the threshold of the netherworld, trapped in an Amulet of Reaping. Humbly, I beg that you shine your divine light upon her and guide her soul back to its seat. Please make my soulmate whole again.”
His plea completed, Lyall walked towards the pillars framing the altar.
The two to my right, closest to the statue, had a sconce with an engraving of the symbol of Death.
The other two to my left had a sconce engraved with the symbol of Life.
He waved his hand in front of the first torch of Life to light it with mage fire then crossed to the other side of the room to also ignite the second one.
A wave of magic swept through the room as purple light bathed our surroundings. A magic circle beneath the altar lit up, and my skin began to tingle. Heart pounding, I waited with bated breath for what would happen next.
A soft gasp escaped me when a grinding sound resonated overhead. I looked up at the same time Lyall jerked his head towards the ceiling. A large stone glided sideways, revealing a light well that allowed the moonlight to flood in.
A series of runes began to glow around the edges of the altar, and even more magic built around the room, seeping into me. Lyall turned to look at me, the excitement on his face reflecting the one I felt.
And then nothing.
The seconds stretched into a minute, and then two with nothing else happening. My mate looked around us in confusion before glancing at the statue. I could see his wheels spinning as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong.
“What am I missing,” he whispered to himself, a deep frown creasing his brow. “The torches are lit. Both are torches of Life, not Death. The divine light is shining down on her.”
He glanced up at the skylight and then at the glowing altar with a troubled expression.
“Divine light is key to unlocking the doorway to the seat of one’s soul. And only a true beloved can hold the key. Am I supposed to hold an actual key?” he mused aloud, before looking around the room again, baffled.
My heart broke with each passing minute with nothing else happening as he searched in vain for what the key might be. The only key visible in the room was the one held by the statue. And that one clearly wasn’t removable. Anyway, where would it even go if it could be detached?
Drawing on all the energy I had left, which had been boosted a bit by the purifying water as well as the magic from the altar, I gently called to him.
“It isn’t the full moon yet, Lyall,” I said in a tired voice.
He approached me, a mulish expression settling on his handsome features. “It doesn’t have to be. The ritual clearly states that it’s only stronger then.”
“True,” I conceded. “But Kali said there was a low success rate.”
“And Pharos said but there was a path to our happily ever after,” he countered stubbornly. “No matter what it takes, I will figure it out. I am not losing you. Not now, not ever.”
His eyes went out of focus. I imagined he was mentally reviewing the message Kelly had sent us.
Tears pricked my eyes as I lay there, helpless, in trying to come to terms with what now seemed inevitable.
Inquisitors were trained to be at peace with the probability of death.
But I hated this. I wanted more time. In fact, I deserved more time with Lyall.
The worst part was the thought of leaving him this way.
I knew beyond any doubt that he would blame himself for my death.
But it was never his fault to begin with.
Fate had set this wheel in motion for me decades ago.