Children of Vale by D. A. Anderson

Author:D. A. Anderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: D. A. Anderson

XLIII

Tyana awoke on the cold stone floor. She looked around. She was alone.

She stood. She was sore, drained of energy, and had a slight headache. She exited the antechamber, its door groaning. Beyond, the Vestals’ sanctum stretched ahead of her. The windows and lamps were dark. She couldn’t recall how much time had passed.

She moved through the darkness quietly. Her eyes adjusted to the dim hallways. Everything was silent except her footsteps—no chanting Artificers, no attendant Keepers. She endeavored to find her way out of the sanctum and exit the cathedral. It proved to be harder than expected. The hallways were ornate but identical. Without a guide, she could easily get lost.

She remembered her tricks from navigating the Warriors’ labyrinth. She mentally marked the antechamber she came from. She didn’t remember the directions Ahnsair took to get there, so she had to fan out, careful not to retrace her steps.

After eliminating the few dead ends and loops, she determined her way forward. She thought she found the hallway leading to the central basilica. Instead, its doors opened into a narrow, opulent spiraling staircase. At the top, Tyana could hear soft voices and running water.

For a moment she felt she should turn back. She could backtrack and find the real exit. Something pulled her forward, however—curiosity, maybe.

So she climbed the staircase. After a few twisting flights, it opened up into a luxurious chamber sculpted entirely from cut obsidian and polished bronze. Sweet perfumes and soft light met her senses. The air was hot and thick with humidity, like a sauna. Ahead, a series of sheer curtains separated her from the crooning voices.

She approached the curtains, parting them one by one. As she moved through them, she could see the source of the sounds: Vestals in black loincloths huddled around a central figure in an expansive bath. The figure was tall, standing head and shoulders above the Vestals. She had long, trailing black hair reaching to her hips. Ahnsair was there, pouring perfumes down the back of her neck. Ahnsair caught Tyana’s eyes, but said nothing.

Tyana parted the final curtain. The figure exited the bath by ascending a set of submerged steps. Her back was still turned to Tyana, and she couldn’t see her face. The Vestals dried her and dressed her fingers with bronze fingerlets, her torso with a bronze brassiere, and her hips with a loincloth girded by bronze encasements.

She turned her face in profile, looking toward Tyana. Tyana recognized Her instantly, back from the moment of her birth. A shiver ran up her spine.

“Come, Tyana,” said Mater Thea. “Do not hide from me.”

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