Storm of Shadows (Lumineers 1)

CHAPTER 9: THE TEMPLE OF LIGHT

The Temple of Light occupied its own space, a behemoth of a building with heavy columns spanning its front and a triangular roof plopped on top. The road split around it the way light broke around large objects, leaving everything behind in shadow. A giant, windowless building made of limestone, with a single glass dome cut into the central part of its roof. The streets were packed at this hour on Friday night, carriages coming and going. People came to the Temple no matter the time or day, to pay their respects, seek guidance, or simply to be alone.

Tabby sighed, studying the stairs that spanned the length of its front, riddled with occupants. Some simply sat and watched the foot traffic. She dodged them and climbed to the landing above, passing through the columns. Flames danced within braziers evenly spaced about the open expanse of floor, placed between columns that lined its cavernous interior.

Her eyes fixed upon the beauty at its center. A giant pyramid, a violet prism that loomed over everyone. Its glassy facets reflected shadows and flames and sent pricks of purple light dancing across the walls. Mesmerized, she gravitated towards it like everyone else.

To her, its call was ethereal, music singing through her skin, through her blood. She resisted the urge to touch it, to pull light from it. How much power was locked beneath its glassy surface? Enough to bring down this building? How long had it sat, fully charged and unused?

Simply staring at it, her mind betrayed her. She was no longer a grown woman, but a frightened child. Her hand flexed, suddenly recalling the feel of her father's warm skin before he dropped it...before he stepped away, promising to be right back. He'd always been Papa, and nothing else. She'd never known his real name. Maybe that was on purpose. Maybe he had always known he would give her up some day.

Her eyes jerked over her shoulder. Would she see him standing there, waiting for her? Perhaps this time? Her chest tightened. She hated that she couldn't remember his face or the build of his body. Those details, like all the others, had burned away long ago. Though, if she saw him today, surely she'd remember.

A breathy plea pulled her attention away. "Mama?!" The little girl wasn't much older than she'd been when she came here. Ragged clothing. Disheveled hair. A tattered teddy with an arm falling off and stuffing peaking out. The girl's wide eyes darted about, searching.

Tabby went to her and kneeled taking one of the child's hands, a sickly feeling already pooled in the pit of her stomach. "What's the matter, dearest?"

For all the tears welling in those dark pits, the child could still see her. "Me mam! Can ya help me find me mam?" Her mousy voice was choked. "She...she told me to wait here an be quiet. I been real quiet. But now I canna find 'er."

Tabby glanced about; her heart sank. There were no women nearby—none who might fit the identity to match this child's. The memory of her father's abandonment flashed hot and fresh through her mind.

"What's your name, little one?"

"Mina, miss. Meena."

A throat cleared behind them. "I'll take it from here, young lady."

An eerily familiar voice, sickly sweet, brought gooseflesh to her arms. He looked exactly the same as the day she'd been collected. She had seen his face plenty since then. The same urge always bubbled up to the surface—the urge to reach for her dagger and plunge it into his gut. To twist and twist until he screamed the way she had screamed in the box he'd locked her in. He had left her there. Stuck in that tiny dark cage for days as he broke her, covered in her own shit and piss. She had begged and begged. She'd cried and beat her fists against it. Scratched her nails bloody. She'd be a good girl, she promised. She'd behave. She wouldn't tell anyone that he'd tricked her. That he'd left her in the dark. If only he'd let her out.