“I don’t like it,”I muttered as we stepped into the atrium and the doors closed behind us with a thud.
No one had opened them to allow us in. At least, no one visible. I cast a perturbed glance over my shoulder, and my chest tightened. The streams were louder now, the babbling crowding my head.
“It’s not that bad,” Tolek tried to assure me, but even he was surveying the chamber with a narrowed glance. Four archways led off the atrium, positioned like points of a compass.
I gave him a blank look. “It’s practically a house of death.”
Tolek chuckled as we all shuffled deeper into the room, hands in reach of our weapons. “You can return to the pleasure house instead if you’d prefer.”
I shoved his shoulder. “Iwouldprefer that to spirits and their secrets. It’s unsettling in here.” My heart thundered.
“It’s like any other historic site.” He seemed unbothered by the ghostly presence wrapping through the air, but his eyes flashed to the hand I hadn’t realized was rubbing my sternum and back to the closed doors, and he understood why it wasstifling to me. Tolek clapped a hand to my shoulder. “Let’s do this as quickly as possible.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
As Tolek continued ahead, a hand squeezed mine. I turned to Mila, and she brushed her thumb across the scar on my jaw, silently saying she knew what memories the sealed doors woke. That she was here to remind me I got out.
Lifting her hand, I kissed the gold cuff around her wrist, returning the favor. Mila inclined her head, and we stepped deeper into the atrium.
Mystlight hung in a giant orb high up in the point of the vaulted ceiling. Veins of bronze and speckles of amethyst dotted the alabaster marble, shining in that glow. It draped all the way through the spacious chamber, highlighting the towering winged statue of Xenique in the center that Erista strode straight toward.
She knelt at her Angel’s feet and muttered a prayer. Vale, Mila, Lyria, and Jezebel mimicked her routine, offering their own respect to the Soulguider Prime Warrior.
Ophelia and Tolek exchanged a look, the latter inclining his head, and they followed.
“Aren’t you going to offer prayers?” Santorina whispered to me.
I shrugged. Perhaps it was sacrilegious—it definitely was—but I wasn’t sure how I felt toward any of the Angels, let alone one of another clan. “We’ll see how tonight goes, then I’ll decide.”
Santorina hummed in agreement, ambling ahead to catch up with the others as they migrated away from the statue. I stood at Xenique’s feet for another moment. She didn’t look down at the warriors before her. No, the statue’s gaze was directed out, toward one of the only blank stretches of wall betweenthe arches. At her feet lay two creatures, carved from the same bronzed metal.
“Sphinxes,” Mila said, lingering with me.
Unlike the carvings atop the gate outside, these were not only the bust left to be determined. These were bodies of lions—almost like a nemaxese—each with the head of a woman and great wings tucked into their backs. And this pair laid protectively at the feet of their Angel.
I swept my gaze over the rest of the atrium. This was the only statue but between the arches off the circular room, tapestries depicted the Angel in various states. Sphinxes littered the decor, but in tiny details. The borders and backgrounds, never the center.
“Not only at the gates, then,” I observed.
“I suppose we were right about them,” Mila said. “Now let’s hope whatever riddles their house holds are nothing too arduous.”
A chill trickled down my spine, and we turned our backs on Xenique and her mystical creatures. A part of me hoped it was for good.
The others were headed toward the archway directly ahead, at the top of the large, bronze crescent moon carved into the marble floor, amethyst speckles twinkling like stars around it.
As Mila and I caught up, a groaning echoed to our left. We all spun toward it, swords whining as they were pulled.
“What in the fucking Angels?” I muttered.
There, in the bare stretch of wall Xenique’s statue faced, a fifth archway now loomed.
This one was different than the others. Where darkness pressed behind each of the original four, waiting for mystlight to flare within, this one glowed with a very dim silver-blue light and swarmed with fog.
“It’s a Hall of Wandering Souls,” Erista breathed, as if we should know what that cryptic explanation meant.
“Looks inviting,” I deadpanned, rubbing at my sternum.
Tolek choked on a laugh at my side, but Erista remained serious. “It’s where those who don’t flow within the streams remain. There’s supposedly one in every Gates of Angeldust, but they’ve never been seen except on rare occasions.”
