Within the Circle of Fate, Shaman Saphir raised his staff, and the warrior spirits appeared one final time, then faded away.
The dragons overhead roared in unison, the sound reverberating through my bones, and reality settled back into place with an almost physical force.
The multiple paths merged back into one, the shifting symbols stilled, and my vision cleared enough to see the circle properly for the first time. I counted twenty-four standing stones, each carved with symbols that no longer moved but still held meaning I couldn't decipher.
We'd made it. We were alive, and soon, we would each learn our fate.
40
KAILIN
"All paths lead to the Circle of Fate."
—Inscription at the base of Mount Hope
The Circle of Fate spread before us, twenty-four massive pillars arranged in a perfect circle atop Mount Hope's summit. The flat area the stones encircled was about a hundred feet in diameter, which was plenty of room for the twelve hundred or so pilgrims, group leaders, medics, and everyone else that was supposed to be there for the ceremony.
Surprisingly, it was much warmer on the summit than it had been on the trail, to the point where there was no snow and the ground felt dry. There was no vegetation, not even grass, and I wondered whether the dragons had something to do with that. I also wondered where the injured pilgrims had been taken.
There were several large tents outside the circle, and any of them could house a field clinic.
I doubted the injured pilgrims had been transported to the Citadel or down to the clinic in Skywatcher's Point. There hadn't been enough time to stabilize them for transport by dragon, which wasn't the best evacuation method for people with broken bones, but it was the only one viable from the top of this mountain.
"It's smaller than I imagined," Morek said from behind me.
I laughed. "You are kidding, right? The circle has to be at least a hundred feet across, and the stones the pillars were carved from had to be so massive that I wonder how anyone managed to drag them up the mountain in the first place."
Each pillar was at least fifty feet tall and so wide that three people joining hands could barely encircle it. I tried to imagine what the temple had looked like before it was destroyed. Had the dome ceiling been made from glass, like the legends claimed?
The weathered surfaces of the pillars were covered in symbols, but I was too dizzy to focus on any particular marking in order to make sense of it. Whenever I tried, the symbols seemed to shift. Perhaps once the ceremony was over, and I got some food into my stomach, I would give them another try.
"It seemed bigger from afar," Morek grumbled.
"Look at the ground," Shovia said, pointing to the perfectly flat surface within the circle. It was also covered in symbols, but unlike the ones on the pillars, these were clearly visible despite my altitude-addled brain making everything swim before my eyes.
Not that I could make any sense of them either. They must have been written in a language long forgotten or just carved out as decorations.
"They had to use magic to get these stones up here," Morek said. "Maybe the markings are incantations that keep this place dry and warm when it should be freezing."
I didn't believe in magic and preferred a rational explanation. "There is probably something underground that keeps this area warm. Supposedly, there are chambers underneath, so maybe they retain heat."
Alar looked around, taking everything in. He'd been quiet for most of the day, but I didn't know whether it was because he was suffering the effects of altitude and hunger or something else.
Was it sadness over the deaths we had witnessed? Or was he still obsessing over our kiss like I was?
For him, it was probably the first and not the latter.
A wealthy, good-looking Elurian, who probably had enough sexual experience to fill up a bookcase worth of journals, wouldn't be overly impressed by one forbidden kiss.
If anything, he was probably worried about the transgression impacting his chances of getting accepted into the Dragon Force.
With a sigh, I tore my eyes from Alar and turned to look at the shaman, who stood in the center of the circle, his white robes billowing in the gentle wind.
Moki sat on his shoulder, with his tail wrapped around Saphir's neck like a living scarf, and regarded the assembled pilgrims with huge eyes that seemed too wise for a pet. Then again, my Chicha was smarter than anyone gave her credit for, so there was that.
Elu, how I missed her.
"Saphir looks exactly like he did in the village," Shovia said. "Not a hair out of place."
