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My voice caught. I wiped my cheek with a wrinkled patch of skirt and drew in a blubbering breath, only to be defeated by that smell of my youth again.
‘People are dying,’ I managed. ‘Yourpeople are dying, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to give up on you and go save them, or—’
Or if I should stay true to my promises, I’d wanted to say – but a loud crack interrupted me.
A raw, tearing sound, as if the wall itself was splitting in two behind my back. Yet when I snapped around, the marble was untouched, and there was no sign of damage to the dome over my head, either. I jumped to my feet as the desperate cracking continued, ready to run and hide under the nearest sturdy altar while the temple collapsed around me …
And then I saw the tree.
The rough, gnarled bark … it wasstretching.
I froze, gaping at the stirring of the bulky trunk. Branches shuddered. Leaves and blossoms rained to the floor. And the wood itself wasmoving, as if something had woken up below the bark, something shifting and fighting violently in an attempt to escape its prison.
Should I … help it? Or was unleashing red magic in the heart of Zera’s forest the worst idea I’d had so far?
Before I could come to a decision, the trunk split open with a last, thundering bang.
I flinched, expecting splinters and falling rubble and perhaps some newborn monster or two. But not a branch dropped to the floor as the tree gaped wider, revealing a hollow behind the bark and wood. Or not a hollow, but …
A forest.
As if I was looking out a window, the familiar landscape of Zera’s wood became visible through the hole in the tree: straight white trees and purple-gold sunlight, the silence broken only by the cheerful gurgling of a brook. Small tendrils of mist floated from that peaceful scenery into the temple room, like siren’s songs luring me in, inviting me to take my first steps on the path that had opened up for me.
It took a few moments before I became aware of my own sensible mind again.
Apath.I staggered forward, my heart rattling in every fibre of my body. The landscape behind the newly opened portal looked like any other part of the wood to me, but surely her temple would not answer my plea by sending me into deserted plague land? If it wanted, it could just have ignored me. Since it hadn't … since ithadresponded …
Was she there, somewhere between those trees?
I should turn back and find Creon before I took a single step, of course. There was no sense in diving into this hole on my own. But the gate had opened for me, and the gods knew how long it would stay that way. For all I knew, I’d return to find the tree whole again, my only chance gone.
And wouldn’t that be worse than a bit of danger?
Holding my breath, I leaned into the hollow of the trunk. On either side of me, rows and rows of trees stretched out as far as the eye could see. When I looked down, I found a broad creek running through the moss, knee-deep and clear as glass.
Water. That meant I’d be protected against plague magic.
In a flare of courage – or perhaps stupidity – I kicked off my boots, picked them up, and stepped through the gap, into the frigid creek.
The sting of cold told me it was real, as real as the rest of the forest around me. When I glanced behind me, the temple room was gone. I only found another gnarled oak on the water bank, its bark shifting back into place over the nubs and stumps that marred the stem.
Fuck.
I turned back around, breath quickening. There were no landmarks I recognised, no hill or temple spires as far as the eye could see. Which was not very far, with the rustling canopy hiding most of the sky from where I stood – but even if the temple lay just behind the farthest line of trees I could see, the unpleasant conclusion was that I had not the faintest idea where I was, where I should go, or what in the bloody world I was doing here.
‘Fuck.’ I said it out loud this time.
The trees rustled reproachfully around me.
I glanced down at my bare feet in the creek, then at the plague-infested banks that would surely mean certain and immediate death by divine magic, and decided that the only sensible way forward was through the water. The temple heart must have sent me here for a reason – I just had to cling to that assumption, for lack of anything else to cling to. As long as I did not panic, all would be well.
Not a very reassuring thought, given how fervently the whirl of my thoughts was scratching against the bonds of panic, but for a moment or two, it was enough. I started walking.
The water was cold. Within a minute of wading, I no longer felt my toes; another minute, and the soles of my feet had become numb to the touch as well. I stubbornly refused to think about that problem.
Keep moving. Don’t panic.
I followed the brook around a low hill, ducking to evade the lowest branches. Past a mess of man-high shrubbery, and …
