Séverin studied the image. “If we were to come to such a temple, then the lyre would be played… where, exactly?”
“Probably in the innermost shrine at the top of the temple,” said Enrique, tapping the paper. “It was thought that only priests and kings were allowed to enter this area as it was considered the point at which heaven and earth met. All kinds of sacred rituals might have taken place there, includingheiros gamos.”
“Which is?” asked Hypnos.
Laila noticed that Enrique’s cheeks pinked.
“Er, a sacred marriage,” said Enrique. “Sometimes, a king and a chosen priestess would, um, assume the form of a god and goddess and renew spring throughout the land by… having relations.”
Hypnos frowned. “On a stone floor?”
Enrique looked even more pink. “No, I believe there was a sacred bed and such.”
“I wonder how they got it up all those steps,” said Hypnos.
“What about those gigantic… figures beside it?” asked Laila.
Enrique looked relieved at the change of topic. “Ah! That was my next point! I came across these the other day and was wondering why the matriarch would have them in her possession.” He went to one of the shelves, drawing out a bronze figurine on a little platform. “These were popular in ancient Greece. Many of them were water-powered for parades, but not this kind.”
When he touched it, the bronze figurine gave a loud creak as its jointed limbs moved up and down.
“It’s an automaton,” said Zofia.
“Exactly!” said Enrique.
“Roullet & Decamps make dozens of automata,” said Hypnos. “It’s not exactly rare.”
“But itisancient,” said Enrique. “Hephaestus, god of smithing, made the bronze Talos, a giant automaton designed to protect the island of Crete. King Ajatasatru of eastern India supposedly had—” He paused to consult his notes. “Boo-tah va…Laila, help.”
He sighed, holding up the page to Laila who read it aloud:
“Bhuta vahana yanta… ‘spirit movement machines,’” she translated. “They’re said to guard the relics of Buddha.”
Enrique nodded. “To me, all the iconography is in line with what we’d expect for, well…”
“For someone safeguarding the power of God,” said Laila.
A hush fell over the room. Laila felt a strange prickling anticipation rippling through her.
“What about the wall?” asked Zofia.
Laila saw the semitranslucent amber wall in her head and ached to touch it.
“Nowthat,” said Enrique, slumping into his chair. “I have no idea.”
“It didn’t appear in our first experience of the map,” said Séverin slowly. “Perhaps it operates as one giant Tezcat?”
“Maybe the name of the temple would provide us with a hint of how to access it,” suggested Hypnos.
“A good thought,” said Séverin. “But to my knowledge, this temple is nameless.”
“Why?” asked Enrique.
“Too powerful, perhaps,” mused Séverin. “A name is dangerous. It can pin something into place, tie it to a country, a religion. Perhaps the temple remained anonymous so that no one could be blamed for even knowing of a place where the lyre could be played and the Babel Fragments could be linked together.”
“Maybe…” said Enrique, but he sounded unsure.
“I need to think on it more.” Séverin’s brows pressed together. His hand moved to the front of his jacket. An old gesture, one that Laila had nearly forgotten since Tristan had died.
