And again they fell back to work. What spots of light spilled through the twisted net of jungle stopped at the total shadow beneath the great arch. A line of blackness up one side of the basalt door showed that it was ajar. Now they mounted the steps, moving aside a fallen branch which chattered leaves at them. Geo, Iimmi, then Snake, and at last Urson, squeezed through the door.
Ceiling blocks had fallen from the high vault so that three shafts of sun struck through the continual shift of dust to the littered floor.
“Do you think it’s Hama’s temple?” Urson asked. His voice came back in the stone room, small and hollow.
“I doubt it,” said Iimmi. “At least not the one we’re supposed to find.”
“Maybe it’s an abandoned one,” said Geo, “and we can find out something useful from it.”
Something large and dark suddenly flapped through a far shaft of sun. They stepped back. After a moment of silence, Geo handed his jewel to Snake. “Make some light in here,” he said.
The blue green glow flowed from the upraised jewel in Snake’s hand. As the light flared, and flared brighter, they saw that the flapping had come from a medium-sized bird that was perched harmlessly on an arch that ran between two columns. It ducked its head at them, cawed harshly, and then flapped from its perch and out one of the apertures in the ceiling, the sound of its wings still thrumming in echo seconds after it was gone.
There were doors between the columns, and one far wall had not withstood time’s sledge. A gaping rent was nearly blocked with vines except for a dim, green-tinted shimmer that broke in here and there through the uneven foliage.
Behind a twisted metal rail and raised on steps of stone, the ruins of a huge statue sat. Carved from black rock, it represented a man seated cross-legged on a dais. An arm and shoulder had broken off and lay in pieces on the altar steps. The hand, its fingers as thick as Urson’s thigh, lay just behind the altar rail. The head was completely missing. Both the hand still on the statue and the one in front of them on the steps looked as though they had once held something, but whatever it was had been removed.
Iimmi was moving along the rail to where a set of stone boxes were placed like foot stones along the side of the altar. “Here, Snake,” he called. “Bring a light over here.” Snake obeyed, and with Geo’s and Urson’s help, he loosened one of the lids.
“What’s in there?” Urson asked.
“Books,” said Iimmi, lifting out one dusty volume. Geo peered over his shoulder while the dark fingers turned the pages. “Old rituals,” Iimmi said. “Look here,” and he pointed to one of them. “You can still read them.”
“Let me see,” Geo said. “You know I studied with Eadnu at the University of Olcse Olwnh.”
Iimmi looked up and laughed. “I thought some of your ideas sounded familiar. I was a pupil of Welis.”
“You were at Olcse Olwnh too?” Geo asked.
“Um-hm,” said Iimmi turning the pages. “I signed aboard this ship as a summer job. If I’d known where we’d end up, I don’t think I’d have gone, though.”
Stomach pangs were forgotten.
“These rituals are not at all like those of the Goddess,” Iimmi observed.
“Apparently not,” agreed Geo. “Wait!” Iimmi had been turning pages at random. “Look there!” Geo pointed.
“What is it?” Iimmi asked.
“The lines,” Geo said. “The ones Argo recited.” He read out loud:
“Forked in the heart of the dark oak
the circlet of his sash
rimmed where the eye of Hama broke
with fire, smoke, and ash.Freeze the drop in the hand
and break the earth with singing.
Hail the height of a man
and also the height of a woman.The eyes have imprisoned a vision.
The ash tree dribbles with blood.
Thrust from the gates of the prison
smear the yew tree with mud.”
“It’s the other version of the poem I found in the pre-purge rituals of Argo. I wonder if there were any more poems in the old rituals of Leptar that parallel those of Aptor and Hama?”
“Probably,” Iimmi said. “Especially if the first invasion from Aptor took place just before, and probably caused, the purges.”
“What about food?” Urson suddenly asked from where he now sat on the altar steps. “You two scholars have the rest of time to argue. But we may starve before you can enjoy the leisure.”
“He’s right,” said Iimmi. “Besides, we have to get going.”
“Would you two consider it an imposition to set your minds to procuring us some food?” Urson asked.
“Wait a minute,” Iimmi said. “Here’s a section on the burial of the dead. Yes, I thought so.” He read out loud now:
“Sink the bright dead with misgiving
from the half-light of the living …”
“What does that mean?” asked Urson.
“It means that the dead are buried with all the accoutrements of the living. That means that they put food in the graves.”
“Over here,” cried Iimmi. With Snake following, they came to the row of sealed doors behind the columns along the wall. Iimmi looked at the inscription. “Tombs,” he reported. He turned the handles, a double set of rings, which he twisted in opposite directions. “In an old, uncared-for temple like this, the lock mechanisms must have rusted by now if they’re at all like the ancient tombs of Leptar.”
“Have you studied the ancient tombs?” asked Geo excitedly. “Professor Eadnu always considered them a waste of time.”
“That’s all Welis ever talked about,” laughed Iimmi. “Here, Urson, you set your back to this a moment.”
Grumbling, Urson came forward, took the rings, and twisted. One snapped off in his hand. The other gave, with a crumbling sound inside the door.
“I think that does it,” Iimmi said.
They all helped pull now, and suddenly the door gave an inch, and then, on the next tug, swung free.
Snake proceeded them into the tiny stone cell.
On a rock table, lying on its side, was a bald, shriveled, sexless body. Around the floor
