Chapter 18
Eros surveyed an ancient temple made of schist at the top of a cliff face, which was presently smashed by waves. It had four towers at each point of the quadrangle, and from each corner, the structure rose to a point at the centre. It was a pyramid. The back and sides were solid rock, while the surface that faced Eros and the others had a visible doorway at the centre base. The huge towers dwarfed it either side.
Typhon was more invested in the edifice than the rest because Kafka had been the centre of his studies in the academy. Kafka, more than any other mage, had helped shape and form Typhon's character. The mage's dark skinned complexion stood out from his habit-veste of dark green, with a red collar. "He's here."
"Kafka?"
"Yes."
"There was a story written about him," the princess turned her eyes upon the enormous structure that rested before a setting sun. "Though I don't know it."
Typhon obliged the princess, "Kafka was born in Cybele at a time when the Tiberian wars were at their most fierce. The emperor couldn't be stopped, but his army suffered much. Kafka was conscripted. The mage distinguished himself at Beroe and Demeter, at Raidne he set fire to the trebuchets besieging the city. He melted armour at Melinoe, and at Penia he punched a hole so large in the castle walls that he marched up to his commander and said, 'Through the breach that I have created, one can see the keep, and the enemy's retreat.'
The Emperor Tiberius made Kafka a king after that.
But the winds of political change swept in, they whispered in the people's ears 'republic.' The emperor was assassinated; those loyal to him were imprisoned, exiled, or otherwise ruined. Kafka naturally could not renounce his loyalty to the emperor, who he'd sworn an oath to.
His reputation and prospects ruined, his protector dead, Kafka came here in order to throw himself off the cliffs, and break open his skull on the rocks below. He was walking across where we are now when he tripped. Laughing at himself, he cast his eyes back over the ground that had deceived him, and saw a brilliant stone.
Kafka would return with that stone, overthrow the republic, and rebuild Tiberius's empire. The magic it posessed was formidable, and, when he at last grew old, Kafka had this temple built before he entered and sealed himself inside."
Skoll said, "It's the same as the mad king."
The latter remark sat uneasily with Eros.
Aurora looked at the temple, only the sound of crashing waves could be heard. "My father wishes you to encounter the man from the village, it doesn't appear as if he's here."
"If not the mage, the king wants the stone."
"Why?"
Eros was silent, he said, "I don't know."
The 85th galloped towards the temple that had lay untouched for an eternity. Eros anticipated it to have magical protections, and, when he drew closer, he discovered that he was right. Archers appeared on the steps of the pyramid; their arrows appeared to pause at the highest point of their parabola, before beginning their descent. "Don't stop, charge."
Amidst the barrage they rushed to the entrance, but Aurora's horse was struck. Eros leapt from his beast, and in one bound, came to her side. The clanging of metal arrowheads striking his sabre terrified the princess.
Sabriel had reared her horse, and was looking back after the pair. The gunslinger however, was lighter and faster than the other horsemen, and so had come closest to the temple. The archers were now focusing their fire upon her, and the tip of one particular arrow was perceived by her too late. It struck her in the abdomen, or at least it would have, had not a barrier protected her. She looked from the arrow to Aurora, who now stood amongst the hail with dishevelled hair and Eros, ricocheting arrows, beside her.
Sabriel let forth a fusillade of her own, the modern firearm in her hands was formidable. Typhon and Astraea conjured a magical storm not far off that pounded the side of the temple, and it was under that barrage that all the group made it to the entrance where the sound of arrow shafts pelting stone still sounded out.
Chapter 19
The stone corridors were long bereft of life. Eros felt angry at himself for the tinge of disappointment he felt. He had hoped either the mage or the attacker in the village would be here, but the dirt on the floor was centuries old, and undisturbed. If either of the unknown's were here, they came via a different route.
The 85th continued down the corridor until at length, they reached a large room. Cobwebs bedecked a rococo bedroom, which was aged and decaying except for a gilt edged mirror that appeared as if new. There were thick leather bound books, a four posted bed, and a massive fireplace. Rotten damask and silks lay everywhere, while on the floor there was a merino rug emitting an acrid smell.
"It's a dead end," Skoll said. "There's nowhere to go but back the way we came."
"The way forward is hidden in here somewhere," Eros said.
"I know it's obvious," Sabriel stood apart from the others, "But this mirror must have something to do with it. It sticks out quite a bit."
"Get away from there," Typhon warned, but when those words left his lips, the glass on the mirror's face became viscous, and Sabriel was consumed within.
"Sabriel!"
The mirror faded: centuries of decay appeared in the passage of seconds.
The shock was felt by all of them. "We can do nothing trapped here," Eros said looking at Typhon who wrestled with the mirror. "You can only help Sabriel by escaping this room."
They all went back to examining the chamber, that is to say, all except Astraea who - taken by curiosity - continued to peer into the glass. It was dark, thick with dust. The duplicitous woman brought her face within an inch. She withdrew because there was movement on the other side. Astraea pressed her hand against it, but there was nothing there. She turned to direct her attention elsewhere when she too was seized.
"Stay away from the mirror!" Eros was furious.
They all went back to examining the room in the knowledge that Sabriel, and Astraea were in the gravest danger. Eros had only known Astraea a matter of weeks, Sabriel his life, the loss of either would be dear to him. He didn't want the temple to be a mausoleum for any of his friends.
Typhon, spurred on by an overwhelming desire to see Sabriel safe, tried to concentrate. He knew Kafka; he knew his mind. He stripped the room of its deceptive veneer, and there remained only the thoughts and ideas of the man himself. Typhon's eyes settled on a desk in plain view, with an inkwell and a quill still lodged inside. There was an ancient scroll that bore Kafka's hand.
"I cannot suffer man to inherit my jewel. I dread to think what he would do with such power; death shall reflect my life, that is to say, a struggle. I sacrifice myself to this fate in the hope that tyranny never again reigns."
Aurora glanced over the mage's shoulder, "What does it mean?"
"He came here to keep the stone from falling into the wrong hands."
Typhon searched the room with his eyes. Then he advanced with a firm step to the fireplace, and climbed inside. Aurora asked, "What are you doing?"
"Sacrifice," Typhon said with the air of a madman, "Kafka sacrificed himself."
Eros said, when Typhon handed him a lit torch, "Too long have you been in the presence of Aurora."
"Sabriel is in peril, I must get to her."
"What if you're wrong?"
"I'm not."
Eros stared into the faces of Aurora and Skoll, who watched in disbelief. The princess shook her head from side to side, "No," she said.
Eros looked at his friend, and let the torch fall. Flames engulfed Typhon before he disappeared. Eros, relieved that it had worked, and encouraged that he could now rush to Sabriel and Astraea, beckoned for Skoll to go next. He cast down the torch, the flames crackled, Skoll cried and was then gone. Aurora's face became paler and paler because her friend's screams still rang in her ears.
"Aurora, your turn." Eros saw her terror stricken visage.
"I cannot do it," she retreated a few steps, back into the boudoir, shaking her head.
Eros thought Skoll and Typhon were in trouble; he was certain Sabriel and Astraea were, time was a commodity that he didn't have.
"It's a moment's pain," Aurora recoiled at the word pain. "If you don't do this, you'll be trapped here for the rest of your life. You'll die of hunger or thirst. Have you ever seen a man starve to death?"
Aurora's little feet stopped their retreat, slowly they began to edge by the finest increments forward. Her whole frame trembled as she tiptoed into the fireplace, weeping all the while.
"I will count to three," Eros said, "1..." and with that he cast the torch at Aurora's feet.
The flames crackled, Aurora cried, then she too was gone. Eros wasted not a moment; he leapt into the furnace, and threw down the torch.