The Temple

by Heather Marie Adkins

  A month later, I was being home schooled. No big deal, with both Dane and Theresa being Literature and Biology professors, respectively, at the local community college. Sprinkle on top of that my tendencies toward the anti-social, and it was a good recipe. The revelations of my adolescent years shaped my entire outlook on growing up and unfortunately chose to make a skeptic of me. Until I learned to control my powers, I wore black leather gloves despite the season.

  The boys in town used to think it was funny to call me Michael Jackson. You don’t even want to know what they called me when that whole child abuse thing went down.

  “Anything I missed on that list?”

  I shrugged, evading the question. “To be honest, I’ve been discovering powers constantly. At least every couple of years something else surprises me. When you call me all-purpose, it’s not a joke.”

  We crunched along. “Dane told me they found you? As a baby, he said. How magnificent!” Edward smiled, his bushy mustache twitching. “I would say that was quite a shock for them.”

  Truth was it didn’t faze my parents one bit. They live their own odd lifestyle, believing in fate and the never-ending web of destiny. Finding an infant in the woods behind their house was life mundane to a pair of practicing Witches. Worshippers of the misunderstood religion of Wicca, my parents dance naked beneath the swollen moon each month, burning incense and tossing seasonal herbs into the fire pit with yells of exaltation. Little makes them stop and double-take.

  “No, not a shock,” I replied thoughtfully, picking at a lump of dryer lint inside the pocket of my hoodie. I wondered if the path we were on would ever end.

  “A gift.” Edward nodded sagely.

  The trees broke and I stopped abruptly with a gasp, my jaw dropping.

  Rising in a circular clearing before me was the most beautiful structure I’d ever seen. Like some medieval castle, it loomed in the night, one central tower growing from the sloping roof, dark brown wood thick with distorted glass windows. The body of the building was comprised of large gray stones, pieced together around visible support beams the color of the tower. Eight large columns paced down the side, each a swirl of muted green and cream.

  “Magnificent, isn’t she?” he said fondly, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking onto his heels. “Those columns are hollow Connemara green marble from near Galway, in Ireland. They’re only about forty years old. They replaced the original wooden columns when the structure was compromised years ago. The stone is mainly all original, dating as far as we can tell from around two hundred BCE, but the wooden tower and supports have been replaced several times over the centuries.”

  One lone spotlight was trained on a far corner, alternately illuminating and shading the temple. It was at least three stories high, not counting the tower, and as big around as a pro football field. “What is this place?”

  Tucking my hand into the crook of his arm, he led me toward a door hidden in the shadowy walkway behind the columns. “This, my dear, is a very rare temple to the goddess.” He turned to face me, his blue eyes twinkling. “Each night you’ll come to the clearing at ten p.m. and leave your car. Follow the path we just walked to the Temple, where the evening shift guard will meet you at the door, pass off the keys, and then drive your car back to base. When morning shift arrives at 4 a.m., you will take that individual’s car to the base, where yours will be awaiting you.”

  He fumbled through several pockets of his coat before locating a small, silver ring. “This ring must be worn when you are at the Temple or on the grounds. We are heavily protected against intruders. It will allow for you to pass through the wards unharmed.”

  Sliding the little piece of metal on my middle finger, I asked, “Wards?”

  “Surely, you know about magic?”

  If I could levitate small children and fly on a broomstick through the night sky, I could certainly believe in magic. Theresa and Dane did. All I could manage was, “Huh.”

  It took three keys to open the giant oak door. What a process. I shifted from foot to foot behind him, alternately raising my eyebrow at him and trailing my fingers over the chill marble of the column beside me.

  As the door closed behind us, the night was silenced. We stood in a large, dim chamber lit only by the flickering of a single torch directly to the right of the entrance. The ceilings soared maybe forty feet, disappearing into darkness where I assumed the tower stood. I felt a presence to my right and whirled in time to see a man conjure fire with his hands and toss it lazily to the walls, where dormant torches lit one after the other until the entire room became visible.

  “Edward. Good to see you,” Flame-man said in a brisk voice, before training his pale gray eyes on me. His pupils were so dark they made his irises seem white in comparison. The corners of his mouth turned down, and I could taste the disdain. “I assume this is the new girl?”

  “Yes, Jordan, this is Vale Avari,” Edward introduced me, patting my back gently. “Vale, this is Jordan Brinkman. He works the shift before yours.”

  I didn’t like the way Jordan was eyeing me, like a bug to be crushed. “Vale. Nice to meet you.” His condescending tone belied his words.

  I stared at the big hand he offered and looked back to Edward, giving a direct cut to the man, as they say in romance novels. I gestured with my head. “Who are they?”

  Edward smiled fondly up at the three immense statues in the middle of the chamber, illuminated merrily in the firelight. Seated upon three massive thrones were three equally impressive females. The central figure rose close to the ceiling, while the other two flanked her at not quite thirty feet each, if I had to guess. They were so immense I almost couldn’t believe I was seeing them. “In the middle is the Celtic goddess Cerridwen, to the right you have the Egyptian goddess Bast, to the left you have the Norse goddess Freya. Three very important personifications of the goddess, each in their own way. They’re not the original statues, of course, time has a way with destruction. These three are only about two hundred years old.”

  Edward stepped aside with Jordan, giving me a moment to reflect. Theresa and Dane worshipped a god and goddess, yet I’d not studied their beliefs or composed any of my own. I was twenty-four years old and nowhere near understanding the bigger picture or believing in an all-powerful being controlling my existence. I wandered over to the statues for a better look.

  I traced my fingers over the deep carving of “Bast” at the feet of the figure on the left, each letter bigger than my hand. The throne upon which she sat was a rough block of stone with a squared back; what parts of it could be seen were covered in brightly colored hieroglyphs. The goddess sat demurely, bare feet planted on the floor and her knees lightly touching, long legs flanked by a pair of regal, golden colored cats with shiny eyes of emerald. One hand rested in her lap and the other was firmly anchored to the base of an upright Ankh on the opposite leg. Her face was a working mixture of predator and mother with flawless features feline in shape, and skin the color of mocha. The goddess’ eyes were yellow and slit like a cat’s. She wore an ivory tunic over a tiny waist and curvy body, topped by generous cleavage and bare shoulders. Her headdress was an elaborate carving very close to the color of her skin, tiny braids falling in a halo around her shoulders. Two splashes of bright green graced her in the shape of a headband and costume necklace. Rising from above the headband were two dainty cat ears, perked like Addie’s when she listens to me speak.

  Before I had a chance to move on to the next statue, Edward was beside me. I jumped, unaware he’d come so close. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled with years of laugh lines. I would bet he was a cool grandpa. “This is where I leave you, Vale,” he told me, patting my shoulder. “Jordan will take care of you. He’s staying overnight to teach you the ropes and get you settled in.”

  “Well, that was awful kind of him,” I answered, sweetly mocking, and I batted my thick, black eyelashes in the sour man’s direction. He frowned at me, crossing overly-muscular arms across his large pectoral musc
les. I could hear his plain black T-shirt screaming in agony.

  “Behave yourself and listen to what he has to say,” Edward warned, wagging his finger. He paused, standing in the open doorway, and his face went serious. “I almost forgot. This is very important, so listen carefully.” He put a warm hand on each of my shoulders. “If there’s ever an emergency, you are to call me or another coworker. The location of this temple is unknown to the people of this village. Its exact location is protected at all costs. If you need help, for whatever reason, you are not to call emergency services.” He dropped the deep tone and smiled. “Of course, this is quite possibly the safest place to be in Quicksilver, as you can very well see.” He chuckled, gesturing to the fortifications on the door.

  For as large and bulky a door, it made not a sound when it closed. Jordan stepped up to it, methodically locking each of the five locks. There were three deadbolts with three different keys, a sliding bar, and a hook and eye; the last two of which must have been undone when Edward and I arrived.

  “When you’ve entered the Temple for the night, you lock each one,” Jordan grunted as he worked. His back was to me, his blonde hair shaggy and loose around his thick neck. When he turned, he latched cold, gray eyes to mine. “It’s imperative that you do this.”

  I stifled a laugh by pretending to cough. This guy was serious as a heart attack, with a complete lack of emotion to match. ”Just why is that?”

  His eyebrow cocked defiantly at me. He clicked his key ring to the belt loop of his black jeans. “We just do. It’s policy. How long have you been in Quicksilver?”

  ”A week.” I reached a hand up to touch Bast’s toe. It was the size of my palm.

  “Are you aware that between the hours of midnight and three, you must remain inside with curtains closed and doors locked?”

  Bast’s toe felt cool to the touch. I didn’t bother looking at him when I replied, “No, that’s news to me. Is it like some kind of curfew?” I’d spent the last week sleeping all night, watching TV, and making three lunchtime grocery runs. Not a soul had mentioned a curfew.

  “Yes,” he said shortly, abruptly turning and heading away from me. I left the coolness of stone to follow him, tripping over my Nikes in the rush. Superpowers be damned, I was a klutz. I opened my mouth to question the curfew, but he beat me to it.

  “There is one set of keys to the Temple used by the guards. We pass it on to each other at shift change,” he said over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing off the tall ceilings. “Every door in the temple has a key. You may go anywhere in the Temple except this room,” he came to a stop before a short, squat door the color of dried blood. “This room is off limits. It can not be opened by anyone but Edward.”

  “Why?”

  He sighed. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “You evade a lot of questions,” I snapped back, already sick of him. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in consternation. Jeez, I really had to spend the night with this guy? And not even in the fun sense of the phrase.

  “I don’t know why,” he bit out slowly, as if speaking to a two year old. “It’s just the rules. Now if you’re done being a pain in the ass, we’ll continue.” He resumed his overly fast pace, and I trailed behind him, wanting to do what I could just to anger him. Nobody had pushed my buttons quite so well since Macy was a pre-teen.

  I couldn’t believe the silence of the building. It was like being trapped in a vault, no sounds in and surely no sounds going out. No breezes, just stagnant albeit fragrant air. ”It smells like jasmine.”

  Jordan nodded, gesturing to a dark corner of the temple. “We burn incense all day in honor of the goddess. Part of your job is to keep the incense going. Generally every hour or so, head that way and light one up.”

  I laughed at his wording, but he just gave me a dirty look. This guy had no sense of humor. We came to a small steel door set in the west wall, where he meticulously picked through the key ring before choosing the appropriate one and unlocked the door. Following his broad shoulders into the room, I felt a distinct change in temperature. It was much warmer.

  “The temple is kept at a steady sixty degrees to preserve the statues and the paint. If you want to warm up, come in here. For no reason should you ever touch the thermostat to the temple.” He started off on a description of the various screens and computers, but I tuned him out.

  There was a wall of ten television screens, all showing different parts of the temple, inside and out. One trained on each of the three goddesses; one on each of the four darkened corners of the interior, one on the windowed tower, one on the single exterior door, and a semi-arial view of the exterior temple. Very high tech and slightly intimidating. I noticed with extreme relief a computer with the lovely word GOOGLE across the screen, decorated in fine Google fashion for the fall, all colorful pencil drawn leaves.

  Jordan cleared his throat. I shook off my reverie and caught him staring at me in irritation. Great, he must have asked me a question. I shuffled my feet, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “Do you think you understand?” he repeated through his teeth.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Then, I’m leaving.” He headed for the door in a flash of black clothing. I followed on his heels.

  ”Edward said you were staying all night!” I argued, my long legs matching stride with his as he crossed the marble floor. Our footsteps echoed in the cavernous room, bouncing back from the walls and giving the illusion we weren’t the only ones walking. The torches flickered eerily, casting shadows everywhere.

  ”There’s no reason for me to be here. I am usually safe at home before midnight. I will not change that tonight.” At the exterior door, he turned the last key and pulled it open. Turning back once more, he regarded me with what could only be called arrogance. “Remember. Do not look outside. Do not open the doors no matter what you hear. Five minutes until midnight, turn off the exterior cameras.” He put a hand to an odd looking light switch beside the door. “After turning off the cameras, check the locks on this door and flick this switch. Immediately. Do you understand?”

  If this man could make a grown woman feel like such a child, I pitied any children he might have. I glanced at his left hand and located the—gasp—wedding ring. God bless the soul that married him. “I’ve got it. I haven’t the faintest idea what the hell you’ve droned on about, but I’ve got it.”

  “After three, turn on the cameras and flick the switch the other way.” He passed me the key ring, and was gone.

  Chapter 2

  Sitting before the screens in the surveillance room, I kicked my sneakers up on the desk and clicked the mouse to wake up the computer. It was about eleven thirty and I was starting to feel uneasy. After I’d locked the doors behind Jordan, I took it upon myself to locate the bathroom, replenish the jasmine on the altar, and make my way to the internet.

  The air felt charged, even as closed off as it was in the temple. I couldn’t place the source of worry, but it hung in the room, caressing my skin like a lover. I made the motions of checking my email, finding advertisements guaranteed to increase my penis size, a lengthy list of names and numbers from my dad, and an update from Macy on her new girlfriend.

  At ten ’til twelve, after glancing at the exterior screens over and over between mouse clicks, I finally gave in and flipped the switch. Both screens went dark.

  I hurried through the main room, lit only by the spotlights illuminating the three central giants. The torches had at some point gone out, and I attributed that to the absence of the man who’d lit them with a flick of his hand. At the door, I checked each lock thoroughly, ensuring them fully functional. I turned to the switch on the wall.

  It reminded me of a kill switch you might find on an amusement park ride. With a shrug, I gripped it and pulled down.

  The sound was terrifying. I jumped a foot in the air, whirling to the source high above my head. It was almost too dark to make anything out, but I could tell something was moving to block th
e ambient starlight coming through the windows of the tower. With a heavy thud, the whirring sound stopped and the silence in the temple seemed deeper than before. If my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, the tower windows were covered by large doors.

  “What the hell,” I breathed into the stillness. Standing so near the door, I could hear the wind picking up outside, an unearthly howl moving through the night. The familiar ping of raindrops echoed from the ceiling high above me and a grumble of thunder made me jump. Goose bumps ran rampant on my skin beneath the cotton sleeves of my hoodie. The hair on the back of my neck stood like an army ready for battle as I stared at the heavy door that separated me from the outside.

  At the obvious sound of a dog braying, as creepy as the sound of coyotes on the prowl, I backed away from the door, startled. I felt warmth on my back, light pouring over me, and turned to find I’d made it to the central goddess, the one Edward had referred to as Cerridwen.

  She certainly was magnificent. Her throne was carved to resemble tree trunks, laced with green ivy and flowers of white petals. A black cloak covered her, the hood draped down her back, the front curling down to the ground at her bare feet. A small “v” of space showed a tasteful green gown beneath the ties of the cloak. The dress was shot through with gold embroidered vines, and it draped elegantly over her knees. Her hair was black, tinged with gray, and one long braid was tossed carelessly over her left shoulder, imperfect.

  She cradled an ebony cauldron between her knees and clutched a brown book to her chest with one arm. The other hand pressed gently to the head of a pure white wolf sitting demurely beside her right leg, body pressed to her. His snout was long, his eyes black as the night sky. Cerridwen had a mature beauty, her cheekbones broad and her smile holding the secrets of the universe. Her eyes were as dark as her pet’s, and knowing.