Book 2 The Gods of Light and Liars

Chapter Twelve: The Fall

The rear of the stables, Hawk realized, was part of the Temple's outer walls. Now she looked down from a terrible cliff of that drab and dreary gray stone. Milk-crystals glowed here and there down its length, and in those bright glowing places, she caught glimpses of white leafed plants, even the shadows of a few flying things, as shadows crossing over the light. Far, far below, she saw ghost-shapes that could, possibly, be farm land. They were laid out and she was pretty sure they, too, were green. The Temple of Light must have been the only light-source for miles, at least. Hawk couldn't see another day-bright object. And, she thought, it was connected to the pylons. It must be getting some sunlight.

There was a small ledge, just big enough for a person to walk on, that lead to the nearest pylon. She wouldn't have enough time to route around to any of the others. She had one guess, and she supposed it had been made for her by simple proximity.

She'd gotten her radio out of the bag. Maybe, if she could get high enough, she'd be able to talk to the guys, at least. Tell them that they needed to be careful. The people down here were, in her experience, divided between the Archon of Light and his gentle authority, and the Archon of Earth, who scared Hawk the way her husband's father, Baylor West, had scared her. She would never have admitted it to Alex, but the one time they'd met—Baylor shouting on their porch while Alex watched him stoically—Hawk had sat on the top of their stairs in hand, waiting for an excuse to call the cops. Funny, that Earth's Archon should make her think of Baylor. She'd done her best to avoid his memory, and had been successful for the last few years.

The ledge wasn't so narrow that she couldn't simply walk across it. One hand on the wall's smooth, cool side, lean hard in that direction so if she fell, it'd be into the wall, and walk. Slowly, but not so slowly she'd spend all her time walking. It felt like hours, but was probably only minutes before her fingers touched the cool milky length of the pylon, which seemed fully ablaze with cool, rippling light.

The join between the wall and the pylon wasn't smooth. Hawk was able to climb up onto its bulk with relative ease. And here she had to pause. The pylon wasn't that steep, but neither was a playground slide. It was smooth and it was angled, and it wouldn't be too hard for her to slide off...or down.

And there was another problem she hadn't thought of until right now: the Shadowbeast might still be up there. And while she wasn't going to buy its fabled connection to this world's devil-figure...that was one hell of a thing to try and get around when you were an unarmed human.

She suddenly longed for all the climbing equipment she'd left on the stable floor. But she'd left it because she didn't know what to do with it, and hadn't been shown. It wouldn't do her any good here. She racked her brain for any memories of climbing; the best she could come up with was crab-walking up slides as a kid.

So that's what she did.

She faced the Temple, her back to the Crystal's uppermost facet. Fortunately for her, it sat on the top of the whole mess. She took off her shoes, guessing correctly that bare feet would have more traction, and carefully stepped into the crystal pylon. It didn't feel any different than smooth stone, albeit slightly warmer than the walls and the rest of the Temple. There must have been some kind of reflection or refraction system to take and magnify the light—and then she felt stupid, because of course there was: The Prism itself, which made up the holiest of holies in the Temple of Light. That must be how they took the fragments of sunlight that tracked through the Nexus and the Pylon and magnified it.

She sat on the crystal, planted her hands and feet firmly on its surface, and began to push herself up.

Step-step, and then push with both arms and legs. She gained a few inches. Step step, push, and she gained a few more. But, heartbroken, she realized she wasn't going to make it there before she was halfway through the Archon's deadline...which, she suspected, would mean death. Not from him, of course, but the cover he had chosen for her was that she was his trainee-replacement. There had to be some pretty heavy oaths involved. Step, step, PUSH. And either she was violating them by fleeing, or he was violating his by lying. And she remembered quite clearly what the Earth-Archon had said about mercy. I have exactly as much as my God: none.