by Jann Rowland
As the party drew nearer, Skye obtained a view of the temple from the ground. And it was stranger indeed than he had realized when seeing it from the air.
The temple was a great stone behemoth, with spikes protruding from it at awkward angles without any evidence of the symmetry for which Groundbreathers were known. The temple’s weathered wooden doors gaped open like the cavernous maw of some beast, and the state of the massive hinges, which were rusted and bubbled like the flesh of a large lizard, seemed to suggest that the gates had not moved in some time.
To Skye, the dark-gray edifice felt like some perversion of nature, as though the Groundbreathers had taken over something that was not theirs and had tried to change its nature without success. That did not make sense, of course, as there were no Skychild temples, and there seemed to be no reason for such a temple to have been erected if not for Groundbreather use. But the dust and spilled stones surrounding the structure appeared to tell a story of tenuous conquest, of tainted victory and hollow triumph.
Surrounding the entire structure was a sense of something Skye could scarcely venture to describe to himself. The words “foreboding” and “despair” came to mind, yet they did not hit the mark. Whatever this temple was, it was not a place Skye would wish to visit in the middle of the darkest night.
“This is the principal temple of your god?” he asked Sequoia, his voice coming out strangled and tense.
Strix, who was perched on Skye’s saddle, gave him a look but said nothing.
Sequoia paused for a moment before answering. “No, it is not. Our greatest temple is only a day’s ride from the castle. This is the oldest temple of our god, and it has largely fallen into disuse.”
“I wonder why,” Skye muttered to himself. Truly, it was a miracle anyone continued to worship inside this blasted edifice.
If Sequoia heard him, she chose to ignore his comment. “Despite its disuse, the Mountain of Terrain is still revered.”
“Mountain of Terrain?” Skye said with a snort. “Sounds like a bunch of Groundbreathers were hoping to flaunt their love for Terrain to Celesta.”
Sequoia ignored him once more. “The Groundbreather priests at the temple will not be pleased to accept Skychildren into their midst. Perhaps it would be best if Jasper and I went alone.”
Skye shook his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. We don’t know whether these priests are on your side or Wisteria’s. If a fight breaks out, the two of you alone won’t cut it.”
“We will have Stone—”
“Two Groundbreathers and a garm against how many priests?”
“I do not know,” Sequoia said, pursing her lips. “Certainly, their numbers will be greater than two. But I have never known the priests of Terrain to be violent, and a fight is more likely to break out if your people are present. You must understand this.”
“If these priests have even a drop of information about Tierra,” Skye growled, a heated fervor coming over him, “I want to be there to wring it out of them. I want to be certain they aren’t holding anything back!”
“The Skychild king is right, Your Majesty,” Jasper said from Sequoia’s other side.
She turned her head to look at Jasper, and though Skye could not make out her face when she did so, he could imagine the glare on it. He himself was startled, as he always was on the rare occasions when Jasper agreed with him. Skye was beginning to get the sense that the man cared more about acting with careful deliberation than he did about agreeing with Sequoia for reasons of race.
“Even with Stone’s help,” Jasper said, “the odds are not favorable for two Groundbreathers facing off against an unknown number of priests in their own temple, which might have certain advantages that we are unaware of. In fact, perhaps it would be best if you were to stay behind—”
“Absolutely not,” Sequoia said, echoing the words Skye had spoken not long before. “I will go into the temple with everyone else. My presence will be the most important factor to try to avoid the shedding of blood. Furthermore, like the Skychild, I want to be present to wring out every last drop of information that they have about Tierra.”
Jasper protested, “The dangers—”
“Mean nothing to me in the face of the need to save my daughter,” Sequoia said. “You should know that by now.”
Jasper seemed to deflate. “Very well, Your Majesty.”
Skye caught Sequoia’s attention. “Do you think it would be better if we dismounted and went up to the temple on foot?”
The queen shook her head. “They likely know of our approach already. If not, they will soon.”
Skye nodded and watched as the Mountain of Terrain loomed larger and larger in his sight. And with it, the sky seemed to turn ever darker, though Skye knew it was likely nothing more than fancy.
At last, they reached their destination. The entire party dismounted, and Sequoia strode forward with Jasper and Skye to face the three priests standing in the doorway of the temple.
The silver-haired priest in the middle seemed to be garbed in a mantle of authority, and Sequoia addressed him specifically: “Head Priest Stonedagger.”
“Your Majesty,” the man returned.
Perhaps it should have been a good sign that the priest recognized Sequoia as the dowager queen, but there was a certain coldness to the man’s eyes that belied any hope that Skye might have dredged up at the use of Sequoia’s title. In fact, the priest’s entire face appeared to have been chiseled from ice.
Stonedagger took in the sight of Skye, who stood beside Sequoia, and then his gaze raked the other Skychildren, who stood behind her. “You bring filth with you,” the priest said in disgust.
“I bring allies in the quest to save my youngest daughter,” Sequoia said. “I would like to know whether I might be able to count you among that number.”
The priest’s lip twitched, and he hid his hands in the folds of his brown robes. “Why are you here? I suspect that gathering allies has nothing to do with your journey to our hallowed temple.”
“You know why I am here,” Sequoia snapped. “I wish to find Princess Tierra, as I told you. I know that she was here.”
Stonedagger’s face was a blank mask. “I do not know what you mean.”
Though it was barely perceptible, the two men at Stonedagger’s sides shifted in place slightly. If Skye noticed it, the queen could not have missed it.
“Are all the priests of Terrain now liars?” Sequoia growled. “I had understood it was forbidden for you and your fellows to speak falsehoods. Tell me who has Tierra and where they are going with her!”
“This temple has no answers for you,” Stonedagger said.
Skye stepped forward, pinning the head priest with a withering glare. “If you don’t want to answer our questions, then perhaps a different priest will!” He moved as though he would push past the three priests and storm the temple alone.
“You shall not enter this holy place!” Stonedagger growled, his face twisting in fury as he flung his hands out to bar Skye from entry. “No Skychild shall be allowed to step foot here!”
“If you tell us where Princess Tierra is,” Skye said in a low voice, “then we shall all gladly be on our way.”
“What would you, a heathen Skychild, want with a princess of the Groundbreathers?”
“The term ‘heathen’ implies a belief in a false god,” Skye said, speaking in an icy calm tone. “My god is every bit as real as yours, old man.”
“Your god is contemptible.”
“I could say the same thing of yours.”
Skye stared at the man as Stonedagger glared back at him. It seemed the man was not about to say anything further.
“Now,” Skye said, “I wish to know where Princess Tierra is, and I’m not in the mood to face your rudeness.”
“I will not have Skychildren in this temple.”
“Yes, you will! I do not wish to resort to violence, but I will if I must. We will search this temple and find out if Tierra is still here. If she is not,
you will tell me where she is.”
Something in Skye’s countenance and his soft tone, which was laced with menace, seemed to inform the priest that this was a dangerous situation, as Stonedagger finally looked away. Skye did not know what he was going to do if the man continued to defy him—anything short of outright murder was acceptable to find his love!—but if Skye were tested, this man would discover how deep his resolve went.
With a grimace, Stonedagger turned to the side and began walking back into the temple. “You may search this place, but you will find nothing.”
Skye turned and beckoned to Nimbus. “Search the entire structure. If you find anything at all, I want to know at once.”
“Understood,” Nimbus replied, unable to disguise the glimmer of distaste that could be seen on his face. No doubt his feelings were a result of the necessity of having to enter a Groundbreather temple.
Skye glanced back into the temple, noting how the sun seemed reluctant to shine within the place’s depths. “Stay in pairs and do not allow yourself to become separated. We don’t know what is waiting for us.”
With a nod, Nimbus beckoned to the other two guards and Gusty, and they moved to enter the temple with Jasper following behind.
Skye stepped toward Stardust and held out his arm, looking at Strix. With all these Groundbreathers around, he did not want to let the Fenik out of his sight. “Come on,” he murmured. The bird obliged, perching on his arm.
Skye then continued into the temple with Sequoia. Stone padded at Sequoia’s side, quiet but alert. They quickly passed through the courtyard and into the interior of the temple.
As they walked, Skye looked around. The interior was made of the same stone as the outside, but here, in the absence of direct sunlight, the crumbling walls appeared as though some great creature had gouged large holes into them. The rock seemed darker, even more ominous.
Skye shuddered. This entire location looked like something out of a macabre story told to frighten children.
They reached what appeared to be the main worship room shortly afterward, and Skye looked around in interest. At the far end of the room stood a large stone altar, though the rest of the location was largely bare. On three of the walls were faded frescoes that were only vaguely akin to those decorating the walls of the Skychild palace. Whereas the Skychild frescoes were bright with color and danced as though they were almost alive, these were drab, lifeless. In fact, Skye wondered why they were there at all. In his experience, Groundbreathers had never been interested in creating art—though he hesitated to call the crude images “art”—to any significant degree.
The group stopped a few feet into the room, and the priest gave Skye and his companions a haughty look.
Strix was gazing around the room in what appeared to be curiosity, and Skye murmured to him, “Keep your eyes open.”
Strix’s head swiveled back to Skye, and one eye fixed on him. “Do you expect priests to attack us?”
“No, I don’t, but we should remain vigilant. Besides, if one of them recognizes you, they might try to turn you back into that ugly bird.”
“Terrain was the one who did that,” the bird replied shortly. “And he didn’t do it at this temple.”
Curious, Skye gave the bird a studying look.
Strix only bobbed his head, a mocking sort of motion, before he spread his wings and fluttered off. Stone followed him with an expression that seemed inquisitive yet content.
“Are you happy now, Skychild?” the priest said with disdain, eyeing the movements of Strix, who had had no qualms about leaving a pile of bird droppings in the middle of the room. “Your people and that bird have desecrated this place with your presence. It will take a month of purification rituals to cleanse the stench and filth from these hallowed stones.”
“If I had known it would take that long, I would have visited several times long before now,” Skye quipped.
It was clear the priest did not appreciate Skye’s words, but other than a tightening around his mouth, he made no response.
“You say these stones are hallowed, but you haven’t taken care of them. The place is falling down around your ears.”
Stonedagger glared in response, but he again declined to speak.
Skye grinned mockingly. “Now that we have dispensed with the pleasantries, let us get down to business. I think you would have fought us if Tierra was actually here. Since you haven’t, I think you should tell me the direction her captors took her when they left.”
“If you did not expect her to be here,” the priest groused, “then why did you insist on entering?”
“Where did they go?” Skye demanded. His face was as fierce as he could make it, and his tone allowed no room for disagreement.
Rather than answer, Stonedagger turned to Sequoia and said with disdain, “What has happened to you, Your Majesty? When I last saw you, you would not have fraternized with Skychildren.”
“My husband was killed,” Sequoia said, regarding the man with a frown, “and my youngest daughter was stolen from me. That is what has happened to me. These men you are trying to protect are responsible for it all. And regardless of what you think of this Skychild, he has proven his love for my daughter and has displayed his honorable nature many times over.” Sequoia’s look bored into the man. “Where is she?”
For all of Skye’s show of displeasure, Stonedagger had not been cowed by him. But Sequoia was a master at intimidation, and it was not long before the priest’s gaze lowered to the floor.
“They traveled to the southeast from here.”
“There,” Skye said, affecting a jovial manner, “that wasn’t hard, was it?”
A flash of anger spasmed over Stonedagger’s face, and he scowled at Skye.
Skye smiled, pleased they had learned something of use. “Now, who are these people that hold her captive?”
“That is a question I would like to have answered myself,” Sequoia said. “The men who took Tierra were pale of face and unfamiliar in their dress. I have never seen their like before.”
“I noticed nothing remarkable about them,” Stonedagger replied.
Skye’s eyes narrowed. The man’s tone was dry and his manner too casual. Skye would have wagered the sky realm and everything in it that Stonedagger knew more than he was letting on.
“If you truly think that, then you must be blind,” Sequoia replied.
“I cannot help you, Your Majesty. I know nothing more of these men than I have already told you.”
“Is it the practice of Groundbreather priests to give assistance to kidnappers?” Skye asked. “Why are you protecting them?”
Stonedagger’s disdain manifested itself in a sniff as the man turned away. “I have no idea of what you speak. Some men stopped here, and we allowed them the use of the temple. Princess Tierra did not seem unhappy to be with them.”
“Perhaps these men were acting under Terrain’s orders,” Skye said, arresting the priest’s momentum. “You know what I think? I think that Terrain has finally crawled out from under the rock that he’s been hiding beneath all these centuries and is up to no good. Tierra and I were attempting to end this enmity between our peoples. Perhaps Terrain prefers to keep everything the way it is so that he can maintain control over his people.”
“Skychild!” Sequoia gasped out.
The priest once again turned to face Skye. “And your goddess has not fled to hide in the middle of a cloud, away from Terrain’s gaze? Of course, such a stratagem would do nothing, as it is impossible to hide from Terrain’s all-seeing eyes.”
“My goddess hasn’t been hidden in the middle of the earth for centuries,” Skye replied, trying not to get irked. “Well, what is it, priest? As one of your god’s mouthpieces, surely you must have some knowledge of Terrain’s purposes. Have these men taken Tierra under his orders?”
In reality, Skye could not be certain that he had elicited any reaction, but he had the impression that he had stumbled on the truth, though it was difficult to fathom
the thought of Terrain moving actively once again for the sake of his children. The thought of an active Terrain was . . . unsettling, even if Skye did not fear the earth god to any great degree. If Terrain was, in fact, plotting mischief, Skye did not doubt that Celesta would descend from her courts in the skies to oppose him.
“I pray that Terrain will smite you where you stand, Skychild,” the priest said. “The day is surely coming where all Skychildren will be taught who the real master of the world is.”
As the man walked away, Skye directed a sidelong look at Sequoia.
“I do not appreciate your attempts to demean my god,” she told him in a frosty tone once the priest was out of earshot.
Skye shook his head. “I have no wish to offend you, Sequoia. I did not insult your god out of spite. I did it to provoke a response from your stone-faced friend there. Tell me you didn’t hear what I did. It seems to me that I was right. Terrain is involved with this.”
“The gods have left us to our fates, Skychild. If you see Terrain’s hand in this, then I could just as easily suggest that Celesta has put these events in motion herself.”
“Commanding Groundbreathers to do her bidding?”
Sequoia glared at him before stalking away, muttering under her breath all the while.
Knowing there was time before the Sentinels and Jasper returned with their report, Skye looked about, noting the frescoes he had seen on the walls earlier. More from boredom than curiosity, he approached one nearby, wondering what sort of crude images Groundbreathers would draw on their walls. Surely it could not match even the most rudimentary images created by Skychildren.
The frescoes were faded and worn, and the pictures they depicted were simple and unformed. It was difficult to make out what they were showing, but Skye traced his fingers over simplistic figures of people hunting fish along the side of a body of water with spears and arrows. His eyes then traveled to the side, where there was another drawing, this time of several people bowing in front of a large figure while all around them walls of water rose high. Skye frowned as something strange occurred to him.
