In the Shadow of the Goddess (Book 1 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

At Aden's request, servants provided them with cloaks suitable for the cool fall evening. Jill's was red silk with a white fir trimmed hood and interior lining; Aden's a plain black. She would have preferred the more inconspicuous, but apparently someone had decided the "look at me" dress needed a cloak to match. While they waited in the foyer, another servant ran out to secure them a public carriage. Jill watched the boy through the swirls of frosted glass. He stood on the street's edge at the end of the lane, hand out as if hailing a taxi.

Seeing him, Jill felt an odd pang of homesickness. But was it really home she missed? This was the longest she'd been without either Brexten or Perren; maybe it was their familiarity she wanted. Aden was still a stranger she didn't entirely trust. What did she know about him? Beyond that, what did he really want from her? Jill glanced at the still-pink scar on her right forearm. Did any of these people have her best interests at heart?

A moment later, Aden's hand was at her elbow as he guided her down the walkway and to the waiting carriage. He stopped and offered her a hand up inside. When their fingers touched, no magic tingled. No threads came screaming into view. All she felt was the warmth of his fingers over hers. See, the touch seemed to say, taunting her. You're getting paranoid over nothing. No real attraction here, silly girl.

The carriage took off at a lurch, and the whole thing swayed and bumped with the movement of the horses. The interior was cramped and dark. A single bench ran along the back of the carriage looking just long enough for three people. Jill sat on the thin seat cushion covering the bench. The windows were covered with heavy velvet drapery but without glass. Their edges had been tacked to the carriage walls to prevent them from blowing in the breeze. She might as well have been sitting in a refrigerator for all the comfort and warmth in the carriage.

The journey could have been five minutes or a year; she had no idea. Her mind kept going back to the moment when she'd broken that single thread. Events could have played out very differently and that knowledge sickened her. And yet, she couldn't curb her curiosity. What kind of Shey was she—if she was even Shey at all? What if these weren't even really her powers? Maybe Kachine had done something to her during the trip through the portal. Or, Arianie could have changed her during the Awakening. It was almost enough to make her run screaming. Why couldn't there be some kind of Shey / Awakening handbook explaining what to expect?

Aden's hand reached out to her. She looked at it as if it were something alien, then realized belatedly the carriage had stopped and he was offering to help her to climb down.

The temple. They had reached their destination.

The moon hung low in the sky. Its pale light framed a small, unassuming building atop a cliff overlooking Myriette's Bay. From the bottom of the hill where she stood, nothing about the temple suggested the presence of the goddess. Ahead ran a narrow footpath adorned with weeds and white stone markers. A quick look back showed a noisy and bright Shaar behind them.

"It feels like we're about to leave the real world behind. Or, at least, the material world," Jill murmured, looking back to Aden.

"That was the intent. No carriages are allowed further than the base of the hill. If one wants to see Arianie, one approaches on foot."

Jill lifted the hem of her dress and looked down ruefully at her borrowed shoes. "At least we're not hiking up the side of a mountain."

"There is that. Come on. I'll help you." Aden's quick smile left her with a conspiratorial feeling, as if the two of them were doing something to rest of the world had mistakenly overlooked. He took her arm and the feeling grew. Being set on fire suddenly seemed like a minor thing. So much for not trusting him.