“I don’t know how to—” A swirl of dust rose around them, and Grohl and Takala landed to the left of Nerti.
“Our apologies for being late,” Grohl said. “We were searching for a good place to land.”
“Captain Therisa,” a female voice called from the entrance.
A middle-aged priestess stood with her hands folded in front of her. She wore the tradition pale rose robe of a cleric of Seritia’s, but her belt and sash marked her as someone important.
“Sister Carien?” The officer sounded relieved.
“The holy mother sends word to let the Champion and his companions pass as they are. They do not need to disarm.”
The captain’s mouth opened, but she shut it before she spoke. After a nod to the priestess, she turned her body sideways and motioned toward the steps.
“The holy mother awaits you.”
Farrell and the others dismounted and climbed the stairs toward Sister Carien. Miceral reached over and slipped his fingers around Farrell’s and gave them a squeeze. With the little touch, he calmed Farrell’s nerves.
As they mounted the steps, Farrell realized that what appeared to be one large temple was actually many smaller interconnected structures. Each tower represented a different temple.
“This is the most amazing place,” he said to the priestess as they crossed the threshold. “What made the priestesses design it this way?”
“Every nation is granted a tower at Agloth for their high priestess to stay when she visits. As the world expanded, so, too, did the temple.” She pointed to Farrell’s left. “Your sire’s arrival in Yar-del set off the last building spree. The new kingdoms on Ardus built those towers to the far left.”
Ten female guards stood at attention, five on each side of the hallway. They pivoted as the group approached and fell into step beside them.
In spite of the enormous size and maze-like warren of corridors inside the temple, Carien’s step never faltered. They stopped at a set of white wooden doors carved along the top and bottom and inlaid with hundreds of red, blue, and purple gemstones. Two guards in the rose uniforms of Seritia stood on either side of the entrance. Carien nodded to the soldiers, and they pushed open the doors.
The audience chamber was smaller than Farrell expected, especially given the vastness of the temple as a whole. An overly large chair on a small dais sat in the middle of the room, and a young woman dressed in flowing pink robes watched their approach.
“Please come forward.” The priestess barely moved in her chair and betrayed no emotion as they walked closer.
Farrell tried not to stare, but his image of what Seritia’s high priestess would look like had been shattered. Instead of an impossibly beautiful woman, created in Seritia’s image, the holy mother was merely pleasant-looking. Her round face and short nose gave her a familiar feel that invited friendship but not lust. When she smiled, it added to his sense of welcome.
“Greetings, honored guests.” The priestess stood up as she spoke. “On behalf of my beloved goddess, I welcome you to Agloth. I am Jolella, high priestess of Seritia.”
She gave Miceral and Farrell a smile before addressing the others.
“Queen Nerti and Prince Klissmor, most favored of the favored of Lenore, welcome back to Agloth. Long has it been since you graced our city with your presence.” The two unicorns dipped their horns in acknowledgment.
“Lady Grenda, Prince Nordric, Lords Grohl and Takala, our city is honored by your visit. Please feel welcome here and know whatever you need, you have only to ask.”
She barely accepted their bows before she turned toward Penelope. “Princess of Dumbarten, devotee of Falcron and Honorus, welcome. We will talk soon about what weighs on your heart.”
Farrell noticed Penelope’s normally stony expression crack for a moment. The princess recovered quickly and bowed her head. “Thank you, Holy Mother. I’d be honored for the chance to speak with you.”
“It is Seritia to whom you must make your prayers, but I will help you however I can.”
Peter stared at his boots when Jolella moved her attention to him. “Young prince of Belsport. You come seeking nothing more than to help. It is a rare person who comes to Agloth without some hope of a favor. Accept what hospitality Agloth can offer you and be at ease.”
Peter blushed and quickly bowed.
Finally, Jolella stopped a few feet away from Miceral and Farrell. “Welcome, Miceral. The Blessed Mother has given you a great gift in recognition for what the Six ask of you. May it comfort you and give you strength in the times ahead.”
Miceral bowed deeply. “I give thanks to Her and the Six every day for Their generosity.”
Stepping to her right, Jolella dropped to her knees before Farrell could react. “Prince Farrell of Haven, long has it been since a Chosen of Seritia has walked inside these temple walls. I’m honored to meet you.”
Embarrassed by the show of respect, Farrell freed his hand from Miceral’s. He reached out and gently helped the high priestess to her feet. “Holy Mother, please stand. It is unseemly for you to honor me like this.”
Farrell heard people gasp behind him. Sister Carien stood wide-eyed, staring at Farrell. The guards looked equally surprised, and two had their hands on their weapons.
“No one may touch the high priestess,” Carien whispered. “Dire penalties are prescribed for all who violate this most sacred edict.”
“I meant no disrespect.” He faced Jolella. “I’m sorry. I just thought I was helping.”
“You did, Chosen.” The priestess used his hand to steady herself as she rose. She peered over his shoulder and said, “That prohibition does not apply to one touched by the Blessed Mother. Even I am not above him in Seritia’s eyes.”
Acting as if nothing unusual had happened, she took Farrell by the arm and guided him in the direction of a group of chairs and cushions. “Everyone please be comfortable so we may talk.” She motioned toward an open doorway with her hand, and a dozen young women dressed as acolytes appeared with trays of food and drink.
For a moment Farrell considered sitting on an overstuffed pad next to Nerti but didn’t want to risk insulting anyone. Instead he sat next to Miceral and across from the high priestess. A novice appeared before him, holding out a large tray with a tall glass filled with a yellowish liquid and an assortment of cheese and bread. Farrell examined the contents but looked up without taking anything.
“What’s this?” He pointed to the cup.
“Watered pineapple juice to refresh you and an assortment of cheese, Chosen.” The young woman kept her head down but never moved the tray.
Farrell placed some cheese and two slices of thick, crusty bread on a small plate and picked up the glass. “Thank you.”
The priestess-in-training bowed her head slightly and stepped away. It took an effort not to devour the food he’d taken, but he kept his hunger under control. One sip of the juice, however, and he nearly drained the contents before he pulled the glass from his lips.
“This is delicious.” Farrell stared into the nearly empty glass. “I’ve heard of pineapples, of course, but this is the first time I’ve tasted it.” The novice refilled his cup before he asked.
“It is a favorite of mine.” Jolella smiled at him. “Normally my tastes don’t dictate what is served to guests, but your reaction is typical among those who try it for the first time.”
The others ate and drank happily, so Farrell used their silence to press Jolella for information. “Holy Mother, since you know who we are, can I assume you know why we are here?”
Jolella nodded and took a sip from her goblet. “In part. You seek what Kel brought to Agloth. I don’t, however, know what that is or what he did with it.”
Farrell chewed a bit of cheese and swallowed. “Why would Kel bring such an important item to Agloth but not inform the high priestess what he’d brought or where he placed it?”
“That is between Seritia and Her Champion.” She shrugged. “Do the Six tell you eve
rything They ask others to do?”
“A fair point, but what does that have to do with why Kel never informed the temple what he’d done?”
“According to temple history, one day a bit more than a hundred years ago, Kel arrived across the desert from the southeast. He was granted entrance to Agloth, but Seritia’s avatar appeared at the temple and denied him access. She instructed him to take his offering into the city, where Her guardians would meet him.”
“Guardians?” Farrell cocked his head to the left. “Do they live in the city?”
Jolella shook her head and drank some more. The trainee quickly refilled the cup, and the high priestess set it down. “That is hard to answer. Once the people of Ze’arder, the last tribe of the Children of Zeron, resided in Agloth. They had pledged to guard Seritia’s city in exchange for the right to call Agloth home. The amelt of Ze’arder, what we would call a king, broke that vow, and Seritia punished him and all his people. The Blessed Mother has said they still guard the city and will appear should we need their help.”
Farrell raised an eyebrow at Miceral. “They’re still in the city, watching over everything?”
“I can’t say for certain.” Jolella’s expression seemed far away. “Some who have visited said they felt a presence in the city, like they were being watched, but even that is rare. I’ve never experienced a presence, and to the best of my knowledge no one in the temple has, either. But given Seritia’s instructions to Kel, one would assume they are there.”
The new information with its additional mysteries frayed Farrell’s already-ragged nerves. Without turning his head, he asked Miceral, “Is it my imagination, or does it appear she’s making this harder for me?”
“I don’t think she’s being difficult on purpose. It sounds as though she doesn’t know.”
“Holy Mother.” Farrell did his best to hide his annoyance and chose his words carefully. “Do you know where Kel hid whatever he left in Agloth?”
“Who said Kel concealed anything while he visited?” She took a drink and avoided eye contact with anyone.
“Now that was a deliberate attempt to subvert you.” Miceral’s comment stopped Farrell from snipping at the priestess.
Farrell’s companions were equally confused.
Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t know if this effort to confuse me comes from the Goddess, Kel, or your own desire, but I’m too weary to play.” He reached into his pocket and summoned the bag that held the Eye. “If you won’t—or can’t— give me a direct answer, I’ll find the information I need on my own.”
“Chosen, you may be a wizard of great power, but it is unlikely you can find what you seek on your own.” Jolella’s choice of words betrayed the obvious—Kel had left something behind.
Farrell removed his hand from his pocket as the priestess spoke. He opened the bag and emptied the Eye into his palm. The deep blue gem sparkled as he showed it to his hosts. Although Seritia had blocked the Eye from seeing inside Agloth from afar, he expected it would help him find whatever Kel had left behind. “I won’t be on my own, Holy Mother, nor will I be relying on magic to find my answers.”
A raised eyebrow was all the reaction Jolella made. “Is that . . .?” She squinted at the stone.
“The Eye of Honorus?” Farrell tilted his hand so she could better see the stone. “Yes, this is Honorus’s Gift.”
“I should not be surprised that Honorus would give His Champion such a Gift.” Her expression softened, and she genuinely smiled. “Whether it will aid you, I cannot say, but I can’t think of anything more suited to the task of finding something hidden.”
“Then I have your leave to use it?”
“You do, and if my blessing will aid you, then you have that as well.”
Nothing had changed since they arrived, but something about their exchange gave Farrell hope. He hadn’t found anything, or even been told there was something to find in Agloth, but Jolella’s reaction to the Eye meant he was on the right path.
Chapter Seven
They followed Sister Carien out of the audience room. She passed them off to the guards who’d stood outside the room while Jolella met with them. She then spoke briefly to Captain Therisa, but Farrell couldn’t hear what she said.
“Chosen,” Carien said, “it has been an honor to have met you and your companions. Captain Therisa will show you to quarters we’ve arranged for you all. Take the day to rest and refresh yourselves. Tomorrow Mother Jolella will meet with you again.”
Their dismissal didn’t surprise him. Seritia had a purpose in bringing Farrell to Agloth, and Jolella had just sent him off to carry out his task. It didn’t matter that she’d not helped him understand what Seritia wanted him to do, Jolella expected him to do what was expected.
When they exited the temple, Farrell immediately extended his senses, hoping to connect what he’d felt to the “guardians” Jolella had mentioned. Their escort led them south, and Farrell heard someone say the guest residence was located in that area of the city.
The uneasy, melancholy emotions he’d felt earlier were gone, but the sense of being watched had increased. Now he felt it everywhere he looked. Worse, the sadness had been supplanted by an eager, expectant sensation that was much stronger than the original feeling it replaced. It was as if he had the only water jug in the desert, and all of Agloth stood behind him waiting for a drink.
They didn’t go far this time before the detail pulled up in front of a long, rectangular one-story building that resembled military barracks. Therisa motioned to a pair of guards, who bowed and ran across the street. They stopped in front of a similar structure and stood on either side of the door.
“Chosen, this is for you, Lord Miceral, and Prince Peter.” She pointed to the building opposite them. “Princess Penelope’s accommodations are over there. The holy mother didn’t know how best to assign the unicorns and peregrine, so she is leaving that to you. Once you decide, we will provide suitable furnishings for everyone.”
“My brother and I wonder if there are any aeries to be had in one of the many towers,” Grohl said. “If not, we will adapt to these buildings.”
“Of course, my lords.” Therisa pointed to another soldier. “We will send word to the temple staff and see if they can find something more to your liking.”
Farrell opened the door and scanned the interior. He noted four doors in the rear, but otherwise it was one large, open space. Stepping back, he motioned for Nerti to join him. “If we move most of the furniture and bring in appropriate bedding, you, Klissmor, Nordric, and Grenda can stay here.”
“You read my mind, Little One.” She rubbed the side of her head against his. “Though I think Grenda and Nordric can stay with Penelope.”
Therisa shot him a questioning look but quickly acquiesced to the unusual request. She nearly ran out of guards by the time she’d sent all the messages necessary to accommodate her guests.
Before all the changes were made, Nerti and Miceral insisted Farrell take a nap. When he tried to protest, he yawned and decided not to fight them. Despite looking like it belonged in a soldier’s barracks, the bed in the room Farrell and Miceral selected turned out to be extremely comfortable. He barely tugged his boots off and lay down before he fell asleep.
His pleasant, dreamless sleep ended when a hand touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes and found Miceral sitting on the edge of the bed, gently nudging him. He saw the concerned look on his partner’s face and smiled.
“I’m fine, Ral.” Farrell sat up and stretched. That led to a yawn, which caused him to twist and extend his arms higher. He held the position for a few seconds before he relaxed. “Nothing a good sleep won’t cure.”
“You’d only just recovered from the attack on the Seafoam Rose when we started this trek.” Miceral tossed him a clean shirt from their saddlebags. “Doing all that magic on the ride can’t be good for you.”
Farrell laughed as he quickly changed clothes. “You never say weapons practice is bad for me.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not really.” Farrell stood up, smoothed the fabric of his shirt, and then walked over to Miceral. Standing an inch away, he leaned closer for a brief kiss. “Magic is exercise, too—for wizards.”
“True, but when you were injured, we skipped training while you recovered. You barely gave yourself a rest before you started using magic again.”
Farrell swallowed his counterarguments before they came out. Sometimes being right didn’t matter. “I’ll make sure to rest as much as possible while we’re here. Though you may need to remind me from time to time.”
He watched Miceral’s anxious expression soften and allowed his partner to pull him into a hug. “That’s more than I expected you’d say.”
In no hurry to break the contact, Farrell wrapped his arms around Miceral’s torso and buried his face against his neck. When they moved apart, Miceral smiled at him.
“Let’s get something to eat.” He took Farrell’s hand and led them toward the main room.
Trays of cold meat, cheese, bread with honey, and three different fruits had been set on the long table against the wall. Peter sat picking at the food in front of him. Nerti and Klissmor rested on large cushions opposite the table. Though their eyes were closed, Farrell doubted they were sleeping. Then again, he’d never seen them sleep, so he couldn’t be sure.
The food, while plentiful, didn’t entice Farrell as much as something warm and savory would have. Without much enthusiasm, he added food to his plate and sat next to Peter.
“How are you feeling?” Peter asked. “Did the rest help?”
“A bit, but it wasn’t long enough.” Farrell winked and picked up his fork.
“Sometimes you need it.” He pushed a wedge of bread into his mouth. “You do a lot for everyone.”
Far from home, and thrust into events that read like legends from the past, Peter acted older than his sixteen years. Despite his status as Champion, Farrell was the closest in age and maturity to his friend.
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