grown out next to envelop the prongs and inch its way up toward the wider portion of the blade.
Paige was so entranced by the gradual little miracle that she jumped when she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Sophie had come up to her and said, “This could take a while. Are you serious about this whole bridge building thing?”
After a moment of consideration, Paige nodded. “Yeah. Like a lot of Cole’s ideas, it seems dumb at first but stands up to reason. We need to do something drastic if we’ve got any chance of coming out of this, and by ‘we,’ I mean all of us. And . . . by that I mean
Sophie let out one of many tired breaths. “There have been plagues, both natural and unnatural, that have hit mankind, but we come out all right. Some of those seem more like God trying to trim the population. Cruel but necessary. This is different. The Weshruuv have been content to prowl their territories, but now they have committed themselves to an extinction agenda. Even the most bullheaded among us can see our entire species is in danger and that old rivalries need to be set aside.”
When she said that last part, Sophie looked directly at Milosh. The one-armed Amriany grumbled and headed for the door. “I will tell the others that we will be in the company of savages for a while longer,” he said. After that, his grumblings shifted into his own language.
“Don’t worry,” Sophie said as she led Paige to the door. “I’m sure Ira’s got something for you. Whenever Milosh or Nadya spoke of you to him, he wanted to know about your weapons. Now I see why.”
“Kind of like an old college friend of mine,” Paige said fondly. “Whenever I mentioned something I liked to Karen, she always remembered it. A little while later—or sometimes a lot later—she’d send a little gift that was always perfectly suited to whatever I’d mentioned.”
“She seems nice. Is she a Skinner?”
“No. She was living a normal life when I last saw her, but the way things have gone back home . . . I just hope she’s still alive.”
Obviously no stranger to the sadness that crept in on those last few words, Sophie steered her outside the cabin and then around its perimeter to the wide field behind it. “How much influence do you have with the nymphs?” she asked.
“A good amount, but we’ve been kind of pushing it lately. Things seem to be getting better, though. Why? Looking for some free trips? I’m sure they’ll bring us all back to America, but I should be able to get them to extend the courtesy to a few of you right away. Probably won’t be an all access pass, but one or two of you should be given a trial membership to the VIP rooms until they get used to you.”
“They know us well enough. At least, they know my people. The Amriany have bad history with the Dryad.”
“How bad?” Paige asked.
Sophie drew a long breath before replying, “Let’s just say it would not be a surprise if our first trip through their temple ended with us being sent into a bad place.”
“Like Iowa?”
“Like the bottom of an ocean.”
“Hmm,” Paige said slowly. “I guess that could be worse than Iowa. We may be able to put a good word in for you.”
“We do have something to offer them,” Sophie said as she and Paige walked toward the low ridge surrounding the clearing.
Now that she was closer, Paige could see that it was more rounded than what she’d originally assumed, and there wasn’t as much dirt on it as she’d guessed. The texture was part of the rock instead of something that had collected in uneven layers on it. Also, the rock was trembling. “Is that what you want to trade?” she asked. “Seems like the kind of messed-up crap the Dryads might be into.”
“No. That is the reason Ira works here. He used to find many Jekhibar wedged into this stone. He thinks it is a statue or idol left behind by the nymphs.” Sophie climbed over the ridge and headed toward a clearing Paige hadn’t noticed until she gotten closer to the trees. Then she noticed another ridge, only slightly higher than the first, was formed around it like a huge, loosely coiled rope that peeled away from the outermost ring to point toward the nearby clearing before gradually angling into the ground.
It took them a few minutes before they reached a spot where the ridge dropped off altogether into a series of cracks that ran so deep they couldn’t be filled by the dirt, leaves, and grit that had blown into it. At a spot where the ridge met the cracks, Paige crouched down to lay her hand upon a section that had been rubbed smooth. Wiping the glassy texture revealed something that made her pull her hand away. “Are those scales?” she asked.
Sophie paused just long enough to look over her shoulder. She drew the sword from its scabbard and held it in a loose grip at her side. “That is Chuna.”
“I thought we were supposed to talk to Chuna.”
“Sometimes it does talk,” Sophie said as her gaze drifted upward and into the trees. “This forest is usually full of snakes. They are scarce when it is colder, but usually there are still some around. And in the warmer months, Chuna’s real face can sometimes be seen.”
“Where did he go? Underground?”
The smirk on Sophie’s face showed that she was fully aware of the condescending tone Paige was trying to cover. “This is another Skinner weakness. You rely too heavily on what you can see and touch. Some legends are allowed to slip away.”
“Legends are full of too much BS. Paying too close attention to them keeps you from tackling things head-on. Maybe that’s an Amriany weakness.”
“Or perhaps another reason why our peoples should learn from each other. Chuna is one of two siblings, so the legend says. Our Chokesari have always worked close to this place, which is probably why the nymphs mentioned that name instead of Ira’s. The last Chokesari they knew by name was the great-great-grandfather of Ira’s cousin’s neighbor.”
“That explains that,” Paige said as she rested her hand on the trembling ridge that led directly into the earth. “What about the rest?”
“Chuna has always been here. The Jekhibar are fashioned from jewels that were supposed to be found beneath his skin. He is an ancient creature that commands the serpents. Or perhaps the serpents are part of him. Maybe only the serpents in this forest are part of him. As you say,” Sophie added with a shrug, “legends are not always accurate. It could very well be that this is just some thick, peculiar root that snakes like to use as a home. Whatever it is, it has always been called Chuna and we have never seen its twin brother or sister. I suppose a Skinner would have dug it up to see what it is.”
“And if there were a bunch of snakes in there,” Paige said as she cautiously stepped away from the ridge, “or one giant one, we might have gotten ourselves killed.”
“If we work together, Amriany and Skinners, it must be to make up for our weaknesses without overlooking our strengths.”
“Agreed. Now can we get the hell away from this thing? I don’t care what anyone calls it, it give me the creeps. Instincts like that are usually dead on.”
“Yes. That is true. What I need to show you is nearby.”
Paige followed her into the clearing and was greeted by a sight that was so beautiful it nearly overwhelmed her. The trees, grass, and sky were different than what she’d been looking at until now, making every other leaf or cloud seem a poorly made copy. The wind that had once been so sharp and cold now treaded softly through finely crafted branches, delicately brushing the thick green and brown carpet, nudging a few fallen seeds against a fragile ivory lattice that rose up from the earth. She moved forward because there simply wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be. The moment her feet touched the soft ground surrounding the structure, Paige felt a tranquility that had abandoned her the moment she’d gazed into the hateful eyes of the creature that dragged her into the Skinners’ world over a decade ago. And yet, because she never would have visited this place outside of that world, she was glad to have endured every bit of pain required to bring her there.
“Is this,” Paige breathed as she closed her eyes and savored the fleeting touch of her fingers against a divinely curved archway that rose up to almost twice her height, “a Dryad temple?”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve been to enough of them.”
“But you can’t have been to one like this.”
