Page 196 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Myrrdin bowed his head.
Under the frieze on the opposite side of the rotunda was another set of stone doors. They opened automatically when I touched one of their handles. Magic, I assumed, and tromped into the night.
Outside was a small clearing where a circle of standing stones of the smoothest obsidian gleamed. At its center, a large stone altar boasted all the typical accouterments of spirit circle: a chalice, a decanter of wine, a jar of blue, chalky paint for exaltation, a bodhran drum and stick to keep the beat during chants, and a mortar and pestle with a selection of herbs on the side. In preparation for a sermon, it appeared.
Who the sermon was for remained to be seen. Even the jungle animals I’d been hearing since sunsdown had abandoned this place—thisholyplace—like a nuclear blast site. Like life itself had jumped ship after Eden’s occupants departed.
Around the ring was a vast, run-of-the-mill garden comprised of blossoming shrubs, flower beds, and fountains spouting pink water. Sweet, but nothing to write home about. I was surprised Eden was so dang—boring.
No wonder Eve had sought something better.
As it seemed the males expected me to proceed into the circle, I headed onward. Before I’d reached the first stone, though, I tripped on something invisible and fell flat on my damn face.
“Ugh,” I groaned into a patch of sandy, flowery grass before I struggled onto all fours and found that—I was in a different place entirely.
I popped up onto my knees in a jungle oasis swarming with all the best things mother nature offered: lush flowers, mossy trees, towering palms, curling vines, exotic critters, ripe fruits, joyous laughter, and happy faces. Animals whooped, sung, and chittered in the palms around me, phosphorescent bugs like the Nixie’s creature form flying past.
Woodsmoke mingled in the air with incense, spices, and pollen, several fires burning throughout the mysterious town before me. A cozy, well established town of thatched, straw huts residing beside a splendorous, fertile beach. And beyond, a gentle sea, teal as a peacock’s feathers.
Fae and humans alike occupied the village square in convivial calm, chattering as little ones scampered in clothes straight from Tinkerbell’s closet.
I was gawking at paradise when a large, hair-dusted hand reached into my vision to help me off the ground. My eyes followed the hand up to a swarthy grin.
“Welcome to Eden, Shorty.” Grabbing my wrist, Pete yanked me to my feet.
“How did we get here?” I asked, tucking my straggled bangs behind my ears.
Pete shrugged, adjusting his saturated rucksack strap. “The garden you saw is a decoy—the doorway to this time pocket.”
“Seriously? We’re in a time pocket?”
“Aye.” He watched Sionna prance off to join the giggling children, lightning bug clusters parting in her wake.
“I’m not aging right now?” Funny, but I thought I’d feel different in a place where time stood still.
“No, since you have magic.”
I shook my head. “So weird.”
“Aye, well, it serves well as a safe haven at any rate.”
“A safe haven from what?”
“From Gentian’s curses. Mostly death and blood curses.”
I stared at him. “You’re saying all these people—they’re refugees?”
Solemn, Pete nodded.
Oh, my stars. There must be hundreds.“Are therewholefamilies here?” I watched the faelets Sionna now played with.
“Aye. Blood curses devour full bloodlines, ken.”
Oh, I kenned. And he knew I did. “Gentian doesn’t know this place exists?”
“Not at all.” For a split second—or whatever you’d call it in a pocket without time—I glimpsed the smug man I’d befriended. “Besides those sheltering here, only a handful of people know it exists.”
While dazzled and heartened to learn a sanctuary like Eden existed for people in my predicament, those feelings soured quickly. Because—why hadn’t Pete told me? He hadn’t told meanythingabout it.
