Wrath of the White Tigress

Chapter 26

Expecting other tests and dangers, Jaska crept toward an arched doorway. The frame was outlined with odd silver glyphs consisting of various circles interconnected with straight lines originating from different tangents. He sensed magic in the glyphs, but certainly not of any type he understood. He approached carefully, and seeing no alternative, decided to advance.

Without incident, he stepped into a giant dome-shaped chamber with a vaulted ceiling thirty feet overhead. The room gleamed like the hallways outside, but here traces of silver patterned the walls so that the interior looked like the surface of Avida.

No doorways led beyond, unless they were hidden. The room lacked furnishings and artifice with one notable exception. An amazing statue rose from a head-high pedestal in the room's center. The statue depicted a being unlike any Jaska had heard of. As an Arhrhakim was to a human so was this being, only its inhuman features were those of a hawk rather than a jackal.

Judging by its muscled frame and narrow hips, Jaska guessed the neuter being was more male than female. Its body was human except for taloned feet. Wings spread outward from its back, bearing feathers of vibrant emerald, gold, silver, and ruby. Its upturned head was that of a charcoal goshawk with black rings circling its sharp, slanted eyes of jet and gold.

A shield adorned one arm and it held a spear in the opposite hand. The being wore a black-belted kilt of white leather, a torque of gold, ornamental leather shin guards and nothing else. With wings spread and arms held out, it bared its chest toward the entrance.

Jaska stalked around the statue, eyeing it warily, for it was made of neither stone nor metal. As far as he could tell, Avida himself had frozen a living being of flesh.

This place didn't resemble any of Avida's shrines Jaska had seen before. Perhaps the Eirsenda had imagined that Avida looked like this, rather than as the hoary, bearded giant clad in silver armor which Jaska had always seen depicted.

Regardless, Jaska was left wondering what he was supposed to do. He had reached the legendary temple. What next? Neither Keeper nor weapons awaited him here. He started to touch the statue, to see if it felt as real as it appeared, but when his hand neared, he felt a strong, magical aura. Stepping away, he used his qavra to analyze the statue again. It didn't radiate a pulse of magic.

Not knowing what else to do, Jaska knelt before the image and prayed. "Lord Avida, I beseech you for aid against the powers of darkness. I have come here to your temple seeking the Keeper of Swords and a weapon that will strike down my former master, a man of great evil who aspires to become a god. I ask that you judge me not by the deeds he forced me to commit, nor by the boy I was before then. Judge me by the scarred man I am now, and if my cause seems worthy to you, grant me the aid I seek."

At once, the statue moved with grace and smoothness. The arms fell to the sides. The head turned down toward Jaska and the eyes focused on him. The expansive wings folded back. The beak opened, and an eloquent and even-toned voice issued forth, fluent in common Hareezan.

"I am," said the being, "Quarelairen, the Keeper of Swords. I am not the god you pray to, though the sincerity of your prayer did awaken me. Long have I slept awaiting you, Jaska Bavadi, Slayer of Shadows, Blade of Avida, Wrath of the White Tigress."

"Forgive me, my lord," said Jaska, bowing low and ignoring the ridiculous titles applied to him. "I did not know you were the Keeper. I thought perhaps the Eirsenda pictured Avida as you are now."

"Has time eroded at last all depictions of my kind?"

"It has at least for those in my land, my lord. And since this does not appear to be a temple to Avida as I know them--"