We stood at the edge of the avenue. A major thoroughfare, it was filled with a throng of people, silently bustling toward their destinations. The moon was on her way toward dark, but the same globes of light that had guided us along the path to Aladril also decorated the city streets.

As we joined the ma.s.s of pedestrians, I found it difficult to tell male from female. Most of the inhabitants seemed to be cloaked in voluminous robes with hoods, and their scent was far less disparate than that of human male and female.

Or Fae, for that matter. I'd found that most races had distinct scents-perhaps pheromones-for the differing genders but here that didn't seem to play true.

Even in the midst of winter, the fragrance of night blooming wyreweed filled the air with a luxurious scent and I thought I could hear music coming from somewhere until I tried to focus on it. Then it slipped away and I wasn't sure if I'd heard anything or not. I'd been to Aladril once before, and Camille had been here several times, but it was as if my memory of the city had faded the moment I left the gates, leaving only a vague impression of what I'd seen or done.

"The energy here is so thick that it's giving me a headache," Morio said, wincing. "How many seers live here? The cerebral pulse of the city is throbbing like a staccato drumbeat."

Camille shrugged. "n.o.body knows much about the makeup of Aladril, or even who or what what the original inhabitants are. Very few are ever given permission to relocate here and those who do seem to disappear and are seldom heard from after that. Remember cousin Kerii?" the original inhabitants are. Very few are ever given permission to relocate here and those who do seem to disappear and are seldom heard from after that. Remember cousin Kerii?"

I nodded. "I remember. Her teacher thought she had so much talent as a divination witch that he recommended she seek further training in Aladril." Turning to Morio, I added, "We heard from her once or twice after she moved, then nothing. We know she's still alive, her soul statue is still intact, or was the last time we checked our ancestral shrine, but we haven't had any contact with her since those early days."

"Soul statue? What's that?" Morio pinched the bridge of his nose, and squinted. "I feel like I do when I've been around high-speed Internet too much. Starbucks is h.e.l.l for me due to all the wireless activity."

Camille glanced around. "The magic here is so heavy that it's even wearing on my shoulders. As to soul statues-when we're born, the shamans forge soul statues for each of us. These are placed in the family shrines and when we die, they shatter." She glanced at me. "Menolly's shattered when she died. When she was raised, the pieces reforged themselves, but the statue came out..."

"Misshapen. You can say it," I said. "I've seen it and I know what it looks like. When I die the final death, it will shatter for good."

Morio blinked. "That's interesting. So you can tell if your father and aunt are alive-"

"Exactly," Camille broke in. "Every time he returns, Trillian takes a moment to have someone check on our shrine and sure enough, both Father and Aunt Rythwar's soul statues are still intact. They're alive, just missing."

"There's the park," I said, pointing ahead. We'd been walking a good hour and now faced a large, enclosed wild s.p.a.ce. Though wild might be a misnomer considering the fact that this was Aladril. Nothing seemed wild or untamed in the city of seers.

We came to the edge of the gardens, which were enclosed by a six-foot marble wall that stretched to either side as far as we could see. The central entrance was unlocked and the gate open but even so, as we pa.s.sed the borders, I could sense the separation between the main city and the sunken gardens. For one thing, the temperature rose a good thirty degrees once we pa.s.sed the main gate.

Marble steps led down through terrace after terrace of roses, jasmine, and lilies. Flowers and foliage entwined in an exotic embrace, while walkways guided pedestrians through the blossoms. The gardens were fifteen tiers deep, and both ramps and stairs led to the bottom terrace. Benches along the way, wrought in bra.s.s and stone, offered the footsore a place to rest and meditate. At the bottom, a railing enclosed a large fountain, where an amber water, lit by some form of magic, sprayed out from a large series of geometric cubes.

"It's so warm here," Morio said, glancing around.

"Think of it like an outdoor greenhouse with an invisible ceiling, heated by magical energy. There are public bams here, if I remember right." Camille glanced around as we began to descend the stairs. She looked totally blissed out.

"Enjoying the contact high?" I asked, grinning.

"Oh yeah," she said, closing her eyes for a moment as she soaked up the energy. "Magic runs like wine and I'm getting tipsy. I could enjoy living here, I think."

"Not likely," I said. "I doubt you'd mesh in well. You're too full of life to be comfortable around such sedate energy, no matter how magical, and you know it." I flashed her a smile as we wended our way along the path. Occasionally we pa.s.sed someone sitting on a bench or on the gra.s.s, but no one looked up or gave any sign they noticed us.

A sudden screech startled me. An owl, perched on the limb of a willow tree, watched us. I could feel its stare burrowing through the night.

"We're being examined," I muttered in a low voice. "Owl at two o'clock in the willow."

Camille's gaze flickered up to examine our voyeur. "That's no owl," she said. "Possibly a familiar, but no ordinary owl."

Morio concurred. "Not a Were either. It might be some other form of shapeshifter, or perhaps a shadow-scout-an illusion set to spy on us."

"I think we should ignore it for now." Camille let out a low breath. "If we interfere with it, we'll alert whoever's watching. We have no idea who sent it, and if they're not one of the bad guys, we might hurt our alliances by being obnoxious about it."

"What alliances?" I snorted. "We're just hoping that something will come out of the meeting with Jareth. We don't know for sure that this trip is going to be anything except a big waste of time."

"Queen Asteria seems to think otherwise. And there's no sense in breaking an alliance that's barely begun." Camille frowned, thinking. "For now, let's just keep our eyes open. If somebody's following us, they'll slip up eventually."

As we crossed through the gardens the owl followed us, silently gliding from tree to tree. I tried not to focus on it. Most likely the three guards who'd given us our identification decided that we weren't to be trusted and had sent the owl to follow us. Whatever the case, we were almost to the other side.

The climb up fifteen tiers of steps took a little longer than going down, but Morio was in excellent shape and neither Camille nor I were tired. Living Earthside had done little to diminish our endurance. At the gate, I saw the owl veer off.

Interesting. Perhaps our sentinel merely wanted to make sure we were going where we actually said we were.

As we exited the gardens, I hesitated. The thought of just finding a soft s.p.a.ce in which to rest and relax was so tempting that I was reluctant to leave. When we had time and energy, maybe my sisters and I could come here and enjoy the lulling hush.

The park opened out onto the Hall of Temples, which was actually another avenue, this one filled with one great marble structure after another. The name was spot on. I could see at least fifteen different temples stretching in either direction. I wondered how the priests managed all that disparate energy swirling around in such close proximity but no doubt the founders of Aladril had thought of a solution for that, too.

"What are we looking for, again?" Camille asked.

"The Temple of Reckoning," Morio said with a grin. "And may I add that the name doesn't inspire feelings of confidence?" He stared at the ma.s.sive row of temples. "I've never seen anything quite like this, not in all my journeys. I wonder if this is what ancient Greece or Egypt looked like?"

"I dunno, but I agree with you on the name thing. I wonder what G.o.ds this Jareth follows?" Camille looked at me, but I shook my head.

"I have no idea. Religion has never been my strong suit. It's not something to which I aspire," I added. The G.o.ds had ignored me in my time of need and I'd pretty much made up my mind that they only meddled in mortal affairs when it suited their private agendas. If you relied on them, you'd be left holding the bag of tricks at precisely the wrong moment.

The streets were spa.r.s.ely populated, unlike the main thoroughfare, but there was enough activity to ensure we should be able to ask someone for directions. The temples ranged in style from Grecian architecture to Egyptian design, providing a surreal, avant-garde feel to the area. Aesthetically the Hall of Temples jarred the eye. Energywise, it whirled like a vortex.

"The magic here is incredibly thick," Camille said in a raspy voice. "I can barely speak-it's clouding my senses."

"Maybe I should go alone," I said, glancing at her. "You look out of it." And she did. Both Morio and Camille had glazed looks on their faces, almost bewildered, as they stared at the row of buildings.

Camille tugged at the hem of her top. "I don't know. I don't like the idea of you wandering around by yourself."

"I'm in Aladril. Who's going to bother me here as long as I behave myself? Roz couldn't get in through the gates. The energy repelled him. I doubt if Lethesanar's welcome here, and Dredge's crew... well, if they hesitated letting me in, I scarcely think he'd be given free reign." I gave her a little shove. "Go back and wait in the gardens where it's warm. I'll find the Temple of Reckoning and talk to this Jareth dude."

She hesitated, but Morio took her hand.

"Menolly's right," he said. "I can barely focus on walking, let alone on our mission. We have to shield properly before we can handle the energy up here. We can do that while we're in the gardens."

Camille frowned, then nodded and let him lead her back toward the gate.

I stopped them. "Hold on. What did Iris ask us to bring home? Some kind of crystal?"

"An Aqualine crystal from the Wyvern Ocean," Camille said in a faint voice. "And be sure and tell them that Iris is a priestess of-"

"Of Undutar. I remember that much. Go work on your shields. I'll be back in an hour or so. If I'm not back in two, come find me." I glanced at my watch. Camille couldn't wear one, but I liked them. "Do these even work here?"

Morio held up his wrist. He had a gold watch-it looked like a Rolex-tucked under his sleeve. "Yep, I checked first thing. Let's see, it's eight-thirty now, Earthside time. If you're not back by eleven, we'll come looking for you."

I gave them a quick wave. "Stay out of trouble. And if you see that owl, try to find out what it wants."

As they returned to the garden, I headed into the street, wondering which way to go first. Arbitrarily making up my mind, I turned left. I had a fifty percent chance of being right, so why not go with the path that seemed to mirror my destiny?

As I strolled down the street, trying to act like I belonged, it occurred to me that not not having magical abilities was-at times-a handy thing. Neither Morio nor Camille could handle the excess energy here until they shielded. I, on the other hand, could barely feel the ma.s.sive waves of magic riding through the streets. having magical abilities was-at times-a handy thing. Neither Morio nor Camille could handle the excess energy here until they shielded. I, on the other hand, could barely feel the ma.s.sive waves of magic riding through the streets.

I looked around. Most everyone wore robes, and it was hard to gauge their natures or temperament within those darkened hoods. Finally I played the eeny-meeny game and my finger came to rest pointing toward one man in a golden kimono who leaned against a wall, smoking something that suspiciously looked like a cigarette. As I drew closer the pungent smell of wormwood and mugwort drifted to my nose and I grimaced. Mugwort was just plain nasty, and wormwood wasn't all that good for the brain cells.

"h.e.l.lo," I said, approaching him. "I was wondering if you can answer a question for me-"

"Shush," he said, cutting me off. "Hold on. Hear that?" He c.o.c.ked his head as if he were straining to catch a whisper.

I listened, deciding that direct and forceful just wasn't going to cut it in this city. After a moment, I began to catch a faint rhythm beating on the breeze; it sounded like a slow drum, trance-work music like Camille often used to deepen her trances and sweep her into an altered state.

"What is it?" I whispered after a moment.

"The Temple of Hycondis is having their ritual tonight. They're making a sacrifice."

Swallowing a hasty retort, I forced myself to keep my first impressions to myself. Back in Y'Elestrial, temples were restricted in what they could-and couldn't-do. Though most rituals were approved, any involving deliberate sacrifice were banned, though fanatical sects often went underground to perform their darker rites.

"Hycondis?" I asked, desperately hoping that whoever the G.o.d was, he wasn't part of the Temple of Reckoning.

"The lord of disease. His followers sacrifice dead bodies to him to cleanse and purify them to return to the Mother's womb." He sounded bored, like he was reciting from a textbook.

"You mean they're already dead by the time they're sacrificed?"

With a disgusted look, he rolled his eyes. "Of course they are. Unlike the sacrifices you make to your stomach, vampire. Now what do you want?" He tossed his herbal ciggie away and it disappeared in a flash of light, leaving no litter to clutter the streets. Handy, very handy.

"I'm looking for the Temple of Reckoning," I said.

"No doubt. I'm sure you have a great deal to atone for," he said, letting out a little snort. Oh, yeah, he thought he was clever. "You'll find the temple two blocks down, turn right, and walk another block and there you go."

I started to thank him but he turned away, ignoring me as if I didn't exist. I let the matter drop-no use picking a fight with someone just because he was rude, especially since I was a visitor here.

The streets began to empty as I headed down the road. I glanced at my watch. Eight-forty-five. Dinner time? If there was a curfew, the guards hadn't mentioned it. Whatever the reason, by the time it was nine P.M. our time, the streets were clear of all foot traffic. Now and then I heard something pa.s.s that sounded like a carriage, though I couldn't see a thing. The hairs on the back of my neck had been standing at attention since I entered Temple Row.

And then I was in front of the Temple of Reckoning. A set of huge scales, as big as the shed in our backyard, stood in front of the temple, carved in stone. I paused, staring up at the megalithic building. The doors were lit by a purple flame that encircled the archway, and as I stepped toward it, the flame flared, crackling brightly. The inscription over the arch read, "Enter within, those who seek atonement and justice."

Hoping sincerely that I wouldn't burst into flames, I pushed open one of the heavy doors and stepped through.

CHAPTER 13.

As I pa.s.sed through the fire, the distinct scent of charred soul hit me. Was this the end? The next moment my foot hit the floor and I was through the door, standing in the temple foyer, relatively unscathed. h.e.l.l, I felt like I'd been turned inside out and wrung out to dry, but when I gave myself the once over, everything seemed in place.

The temple resembled an ancient Egyptian ruin, without the rubble. Huge statues of a woman rose on either side of the tiled walkway, guarding the entrance to what appeared to be an enormous hall. The statues' arms stretched out to form an arch through which all supplicants had to pa.s.s.

At first I thought the statues were representations of Ma'at, the G.o.ddess of truth and justice, but when I looked closer, I realized that it wasn't her. So who was she?

The foyer was wide, incredibly wide, but the opening between the statues very narrow. There seemed to be no other way into the hall than to walk through the small s.p.a.ce. I stepped forward, half-expecting the statues to move. Nothing happened, so I took another step, and then another, and then dashed between the towering stone figurines.

Once I'd pa.s.sed through the arch, I turned around to see if the statues had moved but no, they were still standing silent, watching the door. Relieved, I turned back to the chamber. Unusual. No chimes had sounded when I entered, and n.o.body was around to ask who the h.e.l.l I was and what I was doing. Rather lackl.u.s.ter in the security department, I thought.

The hall was larger than any I'd ever seen, and back in Y'Elestrial, we had some ostentatious halls. Dumbstruck, I could only gaze around me at the beauty of the temple.

White marble tiled both walls and the floor, and the chamber shimmered under the glow of a thousand orbs of light that danced along the ceiling. The walls were adorned with polished bra.s.s sculptures, depictions of the G.o.ds and mortals wandering the halls of the dead. Tapestries, woven of golden and black threads embroidered on ivory linen, hung across one wall. Panel after panel of the linen pictographs told the story of the dead as they formed a line to enter the kingdom of the afterlife.

If this wasn't an Egyptian temple, then what culture was it? Very few of the Fae that I knew followed the Egyptian G.o.ds. Delilah was an exception, with her worship of Bast. Usually the Fae paid more attention to the Celtic and European deities and, to a lesser extent, Greek and Roman. Then again, nowhere was it written that the seers of Aladril were Fae. While they looked human, it was obvious they weren't the regular run-of-the-mill-type FBHs.

I looked around for some sign of life. Nothing.

A series of doors lined the great hall. I'd have to take my chances. I finally decided to start with the one directly opposite the entrance. As I strode to the door, I planned out just what I might say to prevent them from killing me before I'd had a chance to explain who I was and what I wanted.

The door was unlocked and I cautiously pushed it open. The sound of wind whistled through the darkened corridor beyond. Shrugging, I decided to take a chance.

The corridor stretched beyond my line of sight. I caught the whiff of blood on the wind, but no fear attached to it. Deciding to follow my nose, I turned left into one of the branching halls and continued almost to the end, where the scent was emanating from behind a door to my left.

Maybe they were preparing meat for a meal, I thought, my hand on the k.n.o.b. Or maybe a woman had given birth recently? Finally I gave up with the guessing game and opened the door.

As I entered the room, the first thing I noticed was a naked man sitting on a raised dais. His legs were folded into the lotus position, his back was straight. A half-circle frame forged from bronze spread like a rainbow from the center of his back. His arms were stretched out to his sides, parallel to the floor, supporting the thin strip of metal that formed the base of the arc.

Needle-sharp rods were s.p.a.ced evenly around the semicircle, like spokes in a bicycle wheel. At the bottom, they angled in toward his back, piercing not the metal frame, but threading into his flesh. There was no blood, though I could smell it coming from somewhere. And by his expression, I'd have to guess that he was both very much alive and feeling very little pain. He had to be taking some good drugs. Either that or he was in a deep trance.

He opened his eyes and stared directly at me, but made no motion to move. I slowly walked toward him, more curious than worried for my safety. Even though the scent of blood was clear and pure, it wasn't affecting me. Fascinated, when I reached three feet from the dais, I stopped and c.o.c.ked my head to the side.

The man rested on a turquoise pillow with golden ta.s.sels. Even though he was sitting with legs folded, I could tell he was taller than any man I'd ever known. With dark brown hair and eyes so black I could lose myself in them, he wasn't cla.s.sically handsome. But there was something compelling about him and I stood silently, watching him, unable to look away.

Five minutes pa.s.sed, maybe ten... maybe twenty. Finally the door to the back of the otherwise empty room opened and another man entered. Shorter than the living statue, this man bore the same exotic look, but he was dressed in a pair of loose linen trousers and a light jacket belted by a golden sash.

"You've come to question the Dayinye Oracle?" he said.

He was so calm. Didn't he know I was a vampire?

"I don't know," I said slowly. "I'm looking for a man named Jareth. I was told I could find him here in the Temple of Reckoning. Will you take me to him, please?"

The man returned my stare until I felt suddenly faint and had to look away. Who was he? Almost no one could withstand my smile when I turned on the old vamp charm, but it hadn't fazed him in the least.

"Why don't you ask the oracle?" he said after a moment.

Tired of games, but acknowledging that I was in somebody else's playground and that I'd have to play by their rules, I sighed and turned to the man on the dais. "What should I ask him?"

"That is entirely up to you."