Chapter 29 Aura
AURA
Viktoft, Skalor
The next morning, their misfit group of companions slips out before anyone at the inn notices.
They trek west along the wooden section of Crescent Hold in the early morning darkness.
Aura has never felt this tired, even during Drengr training. Between the rough bed, Calder’s seidr during their last sexual encounter, and the general lack of sleep she has experienced since leaving Coldheart Keep, her inability to slumber weighs heavily on her.
Argnier surprisingly keeps up the pace with Calder plunging ahead, following the map she and her great-uncle drew. Edmund pulls up behind, munching loudly on a stolen pastry. His bloodshot eyes almost pierce through the darkness.
As the orange glow of the sunrise breaks over the horizon, they all stop to marvel at the mountain rising at the center of the forest.
“There it is, gents and Aura.” Edmund gestures. “What I wouldn’t give for a cart to pull me all the way to the top.”
“No carts here.” Calder starts up the well-worn path with Aura and Argnier right behind him.
Most of their morning and early afternoon is spent climbing the mountain. Ironically, Edmund’s lean form is the only one struggling, insisting on frequent stretches and drink breaks.
“Did no one nearby notice the temple staff disappearing up here over the winters?” Argnier asks the question even as Aura considers the same issue.
“Interesting question.” Edmund flops onto a downed tree.
Calder stops walking, and the air cools. “Edmund, if you do not tell this story as we move, I will drag you by the hair to the top of the mountain.”
“I move at my own pace, Calder.” He waves him off. “Four god temples fell to ruin a millennium ago.” Edmund drinks from his waterskin. “Their worship declined, and others in the pantheon absorbed their shrines. I suspect that we may learn more within the confines of our old pal’s temple.”
When they finally reach the granite doors carved into the mountainside, dusk settles over the land. They pause for a meal break and examine the strange sigil carved on each door.
“Is it Makt’s symbol?” she asks, receiving a collective ‘no’ in response.
“You see, cousin,” Edmund’s tone is far more reminiscent of his Ridge lord royalty, “we are looking at a seidr seal. Those seeking entrance must quench it to open the door. At the top right there,” he points, “are two dots that signify, well, I believe, family. And the long, pointy insignia there,” he taps, “represents blood or semen.
I hope it's blood, or this may get a little weird for you, Aura.”
“I am still confused about why we must sacrifice anything to a door.” She munches on a heel of bread she nicked from the inn’s kitchens.
“Hmpf.” Argnier studies every groove and crevice, running his hands along the stone. “Far Eddie is correct on the stone wanting sustenance. The question is, what?”
Calder stands at the door, scratching his chin. “Edmund, you said the door may require blood?”
“Yes, why?” He moves next to Calder, who withdraws a dagger.
“Anywhere on the door?”
“I think in the middle, see how there used to be a collection bowl there.” Edmund taps beside a broken stone dish embedded in the door.
Calder slices his arm, dripping blood into the intended vessel.
The doors instantly grind open along a track, giving the group enough time to grab their bags and enter the darkened temple.
Aura glances at the sigil as they slip inside, running her fingertips across the grooves.
What a suspiciously good guess, Calder.
“Any chance the doors stay open, Far Eddie?” Argnier asks just as the stone shifts at their backs, sealing them inside.
Aura takes several deep breaths, but none steady her in the suffocating void.
“Nope, they will close and leave us in complete darkness.” Edmund’s voice wavers. “Can anyone find a torch? Or an oil lamp? Or a damn stick I can light on fire!”
“Calm down. Light this.” Calder bumps into Edmund, and she feels him pass what seems like a torch. Edmund strikes the cloth, and a faint light reveals a path forward.
“Aura.” Calder reaches for her hand. “Stay next to me.”
The torch illuminates the damp, decayed stone of the temple. Iron sconces fit the walls. Yet there are no torches at the ready. Thick cobwebs dangle overhead, and a layer of grime covers the floor.
“Briny? Fire?”
A tiny crimson flame hisses in her palm, offering the only comfort alongside Edmund’s torch as they descend a flight of steps into a high-ceilinged chamber. Stone slabs lie irregularly, and a large hearth with cold embers welcomes them.
It looks like a crude dining hall complete with tarnished serving dishes and cutlery.
Aura whispers to her flame, which bounces straight into the hearth, igniting it with a roar.
“That’s a neat trick.” Argnier watches the fire as he warms his hands.
Calder sets his pack down on a cracked stone slab.
“Edmund said there is a potential for traps. I want this place scouted before we all move. Argnier,” he points two fingers at him, “there are steps behind you. Edmund,” he motions, “there is a room to your right. I will look down the stairs behind me. No one wanders far. If you have any trouble, we will meet back in this room. Aura, could you make a few more fireballs?”
“Yes, but where shall I search?”
“You're staying here.” He steps closer so only she can hear. “I want you safe, and if a fireball returns, we need to know where it came from.”
She nods, slightly dejected but understanding the importance of her role nonetheless.
Aura whispers in her hand, and four more sentient flames with curly cues appear. Each bounces toward one of her companions while the fourth stays at her side.
“They are tasked with following you. If something happens, they will return straight to me.”
If I fall, the Treland Sacred Stone falls too. At least in death, my father won’t be able to admonish me… at least, until he finds the Stone and forces his way into the Depths.
Fuck. I cannot escape him in death.