Killian stopped and waited for them to catch up. “I couldn’t see what happened. It’s too bright.”
“Maybe the temple sent him on,” Marius said.
Killian grimaced. “Or whatever is guarding the temple killed him.”
Marius swallowed hard. Together, they crept to the edge of the passageway. Charlie peered around the corner before Marius could stop her. After a quick peek, she leaped into Marius’s arms, clutching at him and weeping.
“Charlie. What did you see?”
“They’re like me, but bad. They’re very bad!” She buried her face in his neck. Marius stroked her wings, trying his best to comfort her.
“What does she mean, they’re like her?” Killian asked.
Marius stretched out on his belly and crept to the edge of the labyrinth. The same white marble temple he’d seen in every dimension was there, waiting to carry them away. All they had to do was make it through the wide columns of its pillars. But circling the temple were creatures that would strike fear into even the bravest heart.
They were like Charlie, but… more. Each was at least nine feet tall with platinum hair and white feathery wings that dragged on the ground when they walked. They wore white cloaks and scanned the area around them with glowing black eyes. Normally Marius wouldn’t describe a thing as both glowing and dark, but somehow their eyes accomplished the feat. It was the guardians that put off the light, not the temple.
With horror, he realized a steaming pile of flesh to his left was what remained of Brynhoff. He wasn’t dead yet. If he had been, his body would disappear and re-form in the cave. As if to prove his theory, the charred remains moaned woefully.
“How do we get past them?” Killian asked.
“No idea.” Marius studied Charlie. It was possible they wouldn’t kill her, looking like them as she did, and just as possible that they would. She also might be immune to their powers. But he refused to test that theory.
“They’re bad,” she said again.
He frowned. “What makes them bad, Charlie?”
She wiggled her fingers in front of her heart again. “On the inside. I can feel it.”
Killian stared at the girl. “She’s Gabriel’s daughter, isn’t she?”
Marius did a double take. “How did you know?”
“The eyes. She has his eyes. Not the same color—Gabriel’s are hazel—but the shape. Who is the mother?”
Marius saw no reason to lie. “A witch named Raven. They’ve conquered Eleanor and now sit upon the throne. They’re just rulers, Father. And Charlie is good. You can see that.”
Killian stroked Charlie’s hair. “I’m your grandpa, little one. Remember that your grandpa loves you.”
He started for the edge.
“What are you doing?” Marius’s eyes widened.
Killian smiled. “My time has come and gone, Marius. When you get back with that”—he eyed the satchel again—“free me. Brynhoff too. And be happy.”
“No. Father, no!” Marius shook his head and held out an arm, but Killian was already stepping out into the light.
With one last look back at them, Killian yelled, “Run!”
Chapter Thirty-One
Marius cried out, but it was no use. Killian ran from the labyrinth, waving his hands and calling to the guardians. Those strange, winged beings turned, their glowing eyes focusing on his father. Marius pulled Charlie into his arms and sprinted for the temple, using his wings to propel him forward, quicker than he’d ever moved in his life. Charlie clung to him, staring over his shoulder.
A flash of light ignited behind him, and Charlie screamed. “Grandpa! Oh, Grandpa!”
Marius did not look back. He leaped over stones and debris, flew as fast as his wings could carry him toward the stairs of the temple. His breath huffed in his lungs. He was going to make it. He was going to make it! His foot landed on the first step.
Pure energy plowed into his back. His body crashed onto the steps, and he threw Charlie toward the door. Everything hurt. On Ouros, only the goddess’s tears were capable of inflicting this type of pain because only celestial magic could burn dragons. The guardians had to be made of the same stuff. Every nerve ending in his back felt like it was on fire. He crawled up another step, then raised his head to look at Charlie. Tossing the satchel toward her, he rasped, “Take this and run, kid. The door will take you home.”
