Chapter Eighteen
Trey
T he guide that Max had secured took us a long way around to get to the temple in order to avoid the indigenous peoples. Understandably, this site was sacred, and we were doing our best not to upset any of the ancient stones.
The temple sat up on a hill, the verdant oasis behind it. During the day, there was an incredible contrast of bronze sands and thick groves of date palm and olive trees. There were hot springs that drew hundreds of tourists every year as well. If we weren’t here under such dire circumstances, I would reserve one of those springs for the day and spend it with Angelica, exploring her body and finding out just how many ways I could make her tremble and cry out in my arms.
My primal Dragon purred in delight, as he had been ever since we claimed her. I’d never felt him be so calm and at peace. It was odd but also a relief not to fight him anymore.
“Unless she is in danger…”
Even so, you still need to obey me unless I say otherwise.
He grumbled but, much to my utter amazement, actually listened. And I knew I had Angelica to thank for it. She was the missing piece in my life this whole time, the reason my primal side had always felt so at odds with me. We needed her to balance us.
I glanced over at her as we neared the temple grounds. We rode on camels, our faces and heads covered in scarves to give the impression of locals as we traversed the desert. We both wore dark cargo pants and long sleeve shirts with hiking boots. A small pack was on each of our backs holding flashlights and flares; her rune spelled Sig with spare magazines in her pack. She was focused, her eyes scanning the night around us, and I wondered if her new Dragon senses were kicking in yet.
I had learned how to keep some of those senses on lock down, otherwise everything was too overwhelming. But tonight I let them out and I could taste dozens of things on the air; some that belonged, others that didn’t. I heard the sounds of creatures coming out into the cool night air to hunt, the snap of predators devouring those weaker than them.
There was a tang on the air of men and women who were not the same as the Berbers who lived all around this area. They had a different scent to their soap and deodorant.
And then there was the crackle of magic on the air. Some of it emanated from the temple, a familiar current that I recognized as Draconian in how it bent and wove itself into the natural world. But the other was discordant, aggressive and it had a similar signature and taste as the magic that flooded the mines.
Viktor was here, waiting for us.
The trap had been set and was about to be sprung. Were we ready?
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Angelica asked when we dismounted.
“Yes. I can’t tell where though. My guess is he will wait until we open the doorway to make himself known.”
She nodded, brow furrowed as she scanned the area.
“My eye sight is…interesting. I don’t think I’ll need readers now,” she said with a tight smile. “Though it’s taking some adjustment.”
“Focus on things that are close and then slowly raise your vision to the distance, that might help you not to feel that everything is coming at you.”
She nodded.
“The kids are in position,” Angelica said. “I checked in before we left. They’re tracking us from a distance, staying out of the way until the last possible moment.”
“I can’t sense the number of minions Viktor brought,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. They could be cloaked.”
“I think they are. Something doesn’t feel right. Like I’m looking at a set on a stage…I can’t describe it.”
I studied where she indicated and Angelica was right.
It was the area to the left of the temple, a distortion that was subtle but there if I looked hard enough.
“They’re closer than I thought,” I turned my back to the area, my scales rippling with unease. “I wish we hadn’t agreed to radio silence.”
“Max and the others know what they’re doing. And Derek is an excellent strategist, he would’ve accounted for this. We have to go forward and trust them.”
I took her hand in mine and squeezed. She was nervous, I heard it in the small waver of her voice, the way she clung to my hand.
“Alright then, let’s save the world,” I said with a grin.
She shook her head, but gave me a wide smile.
The guide indicated the best approach that wouldn’t disturb the restoration work being done. We climbed the path quickly since it was cleared for tourists and the restoration workers on a regular basis. The temple was a ruin, it’s once towering ceilings mostly gone, and the pillars that had been carved with hieroglyphs and art were either worn down or missing entirely. But there were many other items among the open rooms, all of them protected by barriers. The one we were looking for was a special red granite altar that was carved with Alexander’s name and had been dedicated after the temple had been used to worship him as a god.
We searched slowly, careful not to step on any cordoned off places. At last we came to a wide open area of the temple that was free of debris. There were no walls on three sides of a small raised platform, and the sleeping desert stretched out all around us.
And there, in the center was an immaculately preserved, beautiful altar, gleaming under the moon.
We set our packs down some distance away from the altar, not at all sure whether or not random items might disrupt the ritual. She took out her gun, and I dug the journal out of my pack, doing my best to hide the slight shake in my hands.
“We have exactly an hour before the conjunction reaches the correct configuration,” Angelica said, looking up at the stars. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, just finding the right page.”
Before I could start the recitation that would open the door between realms, Angelica took my face between her hands and seized my mouth with hers, a desperate kiss that had me clutching her hips, wishing I could stay, that the world wasn’t relying on us.
“You come back, do you understand? Or I’ll go into the realm and kill you.”
I gave the cocky grin she secretly loved and kissed her quickly again.
“Don’t worry, beautiful, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
My hearing picked up movement not too far away and I glanced behind her. She heard it too and gave me a small nod. She was armed with not one, but two rune carved Sigs; both presents from Alexis who apparently had a Supernatural armory. She wouldn’t be alone, she would be safe. There was no turning back now.
I recited the spell in Draconian, hoping that I spoke with the right intonations after hours of practice. When I let out my hybrid Dragon form and placed my hands on the altar, the air hissed and spun around me. I heard shouts, a gunshot, and I tried to turn and make sure that Angelica was alright, but when I did, I was no longer in the ruins of the temple.
The light was a weak blue-silver, making everything appear gray and dream like. The ruins were replaced with the temple as it must’ve looked when the sundial had been broken. The pillars were thick, round and carved with intricate designs of kings and gods. The floor was made of stones fit tightly together and smooth under my feet. The ceiling above me soared and there was an open spot at the top, letting in the light of the moon and the sight of the stars. I realized that it was right above the altar and that the night sky was identical to the one I’d just been under. The conjunction reached even here.
“At last,” said a voice behind me.
I turned to see a young Dragon dressed in the robes of an Egyptian priest. He smiled at me and bowed.
“You’re Shail, the priest?”
“I am. I greet the last of Ptolemy’s line, of Avalon’s blood. I am honored to receive you.”
“You know why I’m here?” I asked.
“Yes, I have watched you for a very long time. I saw you before your hatching, and I have watched your death. Your life flows before me in a river, backwards and fore.”
I swallowed, wondering if my death was now or later, but not daring to ask.
“I have come to destroy the artifact and return the power back to the Well of Time. Will you please give me the bowl so I can complete my mission?”
“I can, but you must understand what the price is.”
“My blood, I know.”
“Not just your blood,” Shail said, placing an ornately carved box of onyx on the altar. “Your soul must be bound to the sundial, as an assurance that if it is used before the power is returned to Kronus and Kairos, then the price will be your death.”
“My blood isn’t enough?” I murmured in frustration.
“No,” the young Dragon answered. “Your ancestors betrayed Kronus and Kairos by allowing Olympias to steal the water. The debt must be paid in your blood, but the brothers also did not trust your ancestors to destroy what they could easily use for their own gain. That is why your soul must be tied to the bowl before you can take it back to the earthly realm, reunite the pieces and destroy it.”
“So it’s an insurance policy.”
The ancient Dragon tilted his head to the side, thinking before he nodded.
“As you say. Will you do this?”
“I don’t intend to use it, so that’s fine. But I have a question.”
Shail nodded.
“The blood…how much? Will it kill me and my mate if we both bleed?”
“No, together you both will live, if…”
“If…what?”
“I see two paths, one that has a kind of death for you both, and another that has life. See that you choose the correct one this night. Or I fear more than just your soul will be lost.”
I let out a long breath and tried not to growl in frustration at the riddles. Why couldn’t these priests ever just give someone a straight answer?
“Thank you,” I managed to grit out. “I’ll do my best to choose correctly.”
“Remember, young King, if anyone uses the sundial before you and your Queen cast your sacrifice upon it, then your soul will be drained from your body and you will be trapped here with me, forever.”
“Don’t worry, that’s going to be hard to forget.”
The young Dragon opened the box and drew out the carved stone bowl. It was smaller than I thought it would be, though I assumed it had to be in order for Alexander to carry it everywhere. Like most sundials of Grecian design, this one was concave with a quarter of the bowl at the front carved out. Intricate and beautiful images of battles and gods were etched onto the outside of it, jewels dotted parts of it, creating undulating waters and fiery destruction. And throughout it all, was one repeating figure with citrine colored hair and a lightning bolt in his hand. On the inside were twice as many markings as a normal sundial. The closer I looked, the more I realized that these were to indicate months, years and days. It was a complicated calendar of sorts that was shifting even as I looked at it, as if some invisible person was constantly recarving the lines.
“That’s extraordinary.”
“Time is in constant movement,” he said, “it is not a straight line. It folds and bends, twists and spirals, all at the same time. One life can have millions of potential lines.”
“So then how did Alexander know what lines to use?”
“The sundial directs the person using it, shows them the roads open to them, but only so far down that path. The pitfalls, and sacrifices, the things they will harm in changing their history. These things are hidden.”
“Alexander must not have cared about that, considering how much he must’ve used this sundial.”
“The young King would’ve been great without this power. But his need to be seen as a god, his pride at declaring that his army was undefeated, and his greed for lands that were not meant for him, it led to his downfall and the ruin of countless lives.”
I’d been looking at the Dragon while he spoke but then I glanced back down and I stumbled back at the horror in front of me.
The light stone of the bowl, with its artistic scenes and jewels was covered in blood that glimmered and stank. I could hear screams of dying men, weeping women and children. I smelled burning fields and rotting corpses. And under it all, the maniacal cry of one man, demanding more.
“You see it, don’t you?” Shail asked in shock. “Perhaps you will be the one to survive the sundial. I do hope so.”
“I thought you said you saw my death,” I said, keeping my distance from the disgusting artifact.
“I’ve seen many deaths for you. The crushing of your egg, the avalanche your brothers set upon you. The assassins your father sent year after year. The ambush during the trials. And now tonight, a possible end as well. You have had many chances to die and Fate has refused to let you through the gates. I pray tonight, She once again refuses.”
“You and me both.”
He nodded solemnly and held the bowl out to me. I didn’t want to touch it, knowing the horror and pain that it held, but I had to in order to finish this. So I placed my hands on either side, shocked that I didn’t feel the sticky filth of blood, just the hard, rough surface of the stone.
“Do you pledge to send the power back to the Well of Time where it belongs?”
“I do.”
“And will you pay the price with your blood to see it done?”
“I will.”
“Do you freely bind your soul to this object until the day its power is released?”
The words stuck in my throat, mouth dry as I croaked out, “I do.”
A sensation like someone tugging my heart with a rope through my rib cage had me gasping in pain. I looked down and saw a slim, silver thread flowing from my chest to the bowl, connecting us.
“You have passed the test,” the Dragon said. “Your soul is true. I pray you do not lose it.”
“Thank you.”
I looked around, expecting a door or something to show me the way out but all I saw was the same temple room bathed in silvery light.
“How do I get out of here?”
He smiled at me and reached out his hand to my temple.
“The battle is under way. Remember, young King, no one must use the sundial once it is made whole.”
“I know I—”
He touched my head and I was jolted back to the earthly realm. I turned around to see my mate with her hands in the air and a gun in her face.
“Ah, the Dragon,” said Viktor beside the woman holding the gun. “And the bowl. Right on time.”