The door was glowing.
That was new.
Unfortunately, glowing did not appear to mean opening.
I pressed my palm harder against the ancient stone using an embarrassing amount of effort.
Nothing.
"Come on."
The silver moon beneath my hand pulsed.
The symbols representing Fire, Water and Earth glimmered around it.
Air remained dark.
I frowned.
"You're being difficult."
Behind me, Willow sighed.
"Are you arguing with a door?"
"Yes."
"Is it helping?"
"No."
"Then perhaps—"
"Don't."
She laughed.
I glared over my shoulder.
"I've spent two days being ignored by gods, climbed approximately seven thousand stairs, fought an army of dead soldiers and nearly been eaten by something that used to be a cat."
"It was a windcat."
"That thing had more teeth than a reasonable creature should possess."
Tadewi made a quiet sound behind us.
Not laughter.
Something else.
I turned.
She stood several steps away, staring at the symbols carved into the entrance.
Her expression had changed.
"Tadewi?"
She didn't answer.
Her orange eyes moved from Fire to Water.
Then Earth.
Finally, the moon.
"I've been here before," she murmured.
I blinked.
"Well, yes. You said—"
"No."
Her voice was quiet.
"I've stood before these doors hundreds of times."
She stepped closer.
"Led ceremonies here. Brought children here. Watched generations of Air tribe warriors make their first pilgrimage."
Her fingers hovered over the carvings.
"But I've never seen these symbols."
Willow frowned.
"Could they have been hidden?"
"Perhaps."
Tadewi looked toward the moon.
"Or perhaps the temple has decided to show us something it has kept hidden for a very long time."
I looked back at the door.
That sounded promising.
Terrifying.
But promising.
"Wonderful. A mysterious door with secrets."
Willow folded her arms.
"That does seem to be your specialty."
"Breaking into things?"
"Finding trouble."
"Both, really."
I touched the moon again.
Silver light rippled beneath my fingers.
The other symbols responded.
Fire.
Water.
Earth.
But not Air.
I stared at the final carving.
Wind.
The one element I couldn't wield.
at least not yet.
"Oh."
Tadewi looked at me.
"What?"
"I think I know why it won't open."
Willow stepped closer.
"Why?"
I pointed.
"Four elements."
Then the moon.
"Four connections."
Tadewi's gaze sharpened.
"Except Air."
"Exactly."
I looked toward her.
"And you're Air."
Tadewi studied the door.
Then slowly placed her palm over the final symbol.
Orange light spread through the carving.
The mountain trembled.
I stumbled.
Willow caught my elbow.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing!"
"Lyra!"
"For once, genuinely nothing!"
A deep sound rolled through the stone.
Not thunder.
Something older.
The five symbols brightened.
Fire.
Water.
Earth.
Air.
Moon.
Then a line of light appeared between the doors.
I grinned.
"There we go."
The stone groaned.
Ancient mechanisms shifted somewhere beyond the entrance.
Dust spilled from the archway.
Slowly—
the doors began to open.
I looked at Tadewi.
She looked at me.
Willow looked at both of us.
"Well," I said.
"That was easier than expected."
The mountain shook again.
A crack split the stone beneath my boots.
Willow grabbed my arm.
"Never say that."
The doors opened into darkness.
Not Mortimer's darkness.
At least, I didn't think so.
This felt different.
Quiet.
Still.
The kind of darkness that existed inside old buildings long after everyone had gone home.
A cold breeze slipped past us.
Carrying dust.
Stone.
And something faintly sweet.
Incense?
Tadewi stepped inside first.
Her boots made almost no sound.
Willow followed.
I came last.
Mostly because I was examining the door.
It had opened for us.
For all five symbols.
But why?
The temple belonged to Air.
So why did it recognize the others?
And why the moon?
I looked upward.
"You're all being suspiciously quiet."
Nothing.
Naturally.
I stepped inside.
The doors began closing.
I spun.
"Wait—"
Too late.
Stone slammed together behind us.
The sound echoed through the mountain.
I stared.
Willow stared.
Tadewi closed her eyes.
I pointed toward the entrance.
"That."
Neither answered.
"That seems like something we should be concerned about."
Tadewi opened her eyes.
"The temple is protecting itself."
"From what?"
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
Then toward the sealed doors.
"Oh."
Mortimer.
Of course.
I sighed.
"Well, that's comforting."
Willow drew her sword.
I looked at her.
"Do you think we're going to need that?"
"I think I'd rather have it and not need it."
"Fair."
I reached for my own knife.
Then paused.
The corridor ahead had begun to glow.
Small crystals embedded in the walls illuminated one after another.
Orange.
Pale gold.
White.
A pathway appearing before us.
Tadewi inhaled sharply.
"What?"
She stared at the crystals.
"They haven't worked in generations."
I blinked.
"How many generations?"
"At least six."
I looked down the glowing corridor.
"Well."
Willow raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
"Apparently we're popular."
Tadewi didn't smile.
Her gaze remained fixed on the lights.
"No," she whispered.
"Something has awakened."
The temple was enormous.
That became obvious approximately three minutes after entering.
We passed through a corridor into a chamber so large I couldn't see the ceiling.
Pillars rose into darkness.
Ancient carvings covered every surface.
Dragons.
Clouds.
Stars.
Figures kneeling beneath enormous wings.
At the center stood a circular basin.
Empty.
I approached it.
"What was this?"
Tadewi's expression softened.
"The Hall of First Breath."
I looked at her.
"That sounds important."
"It was."
She walked toward the basin.
"When an Air child first manifested their gift, they were brought here."
"All children?"
"Those born with the dragon's blessing."
She touched the stone.
"The elders would gather. The child's family would stand around the basin."
Willow stepped closer.
"And then?"
Tadewi smiled faintly.
"The child would call the wind."
I looked around.
At the enormous chamber.
The carvings.
The empty basin.
"What happened if they couldn't?"
"Nothing."
I blinked.
"Nothing?"
"Some children needed days. Others weeks."
She looked at me.
"One took nearly a year."
I smiled.
"Stubborn?"
"Terrified."
That made me pause.
Tadewi's smile grew sad.
"She believed that if she failed, the wind would reject her."
"What happened?"
"Her mother brought her here every morning. They sat beside the basin and talked."
"About magic?"
"About everything except magic."
I looked down.
"And?"
"One morning the child laughed."
Tadewi touched the edge of the basin.
"The wind answered."
For a moment, I could almost see it.
Children.
Families.
Laughter echoing beneath these enormous pillars.
A place full of life.
I looked at Tadewi.
"Was that child you?"
She smiled.
"No."
"Oh."
"I broke the basin."
Silence.
Willow slowly turned.
I stared.
"You what?"
"I was five."
"That is not an explanation."
"I was enthusiastic."
Willow laughed.
I looked at the enormous stone basin.
Then Tadewi.
Then back.
"How enthusiastic?"
"Extremely."
I grinned.
"Oh, I am absolutely telling Revik."
"You will do no such thing."
"He needs to know."
"Lyra."
"This changes everything."
For a moment, Tadewi laughed.
Then the sound faded.
Her gaze travelled over the empty hall.
And I remembered what she'd said last night.
That she wanted to hear children laughing inside the Air temples again.
My smile softened.
I stepped beside her.
"Someday."
She looked at me.
I nodded toward the basin.
"We'll bring them back."
Her expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
"Lyra..."
"I mean it."
I looked around.
"Maybe not tomorrow. Probably not next week. My schedule is terrible."
Willow smiled.
"But someday."
Tadewi looked toward the silent pillars.
Then nodded.
"Someday."
Finding the records was considerably harder than opening the door.
Because apparently ancient civilizations had never heard of organizing things sensibly.
There were halls.
Staircases.
Courtyards.
Rooms containing more rooms.
One corridor ended in a wall.
Another led back to the same chamber we'd already passed through twice.
By the third time, I stopped.
"Tadewi."
She kept walking.
"Tadewi."
"Yes?"
"We've been here."
"No, we haven't."
I pointed at a carving.
"That dragon is missing a horn."
Tadewi looked.
Then frowned.
Willow crossed her arms.
I smiled.
"We've been here."
Tadewi stared at the carving.
"That's impossible."
"Excellent."
I looked around.
"An enchanted maze."
Willow sighed.
"Of course."
"At least the gods are consistent."
Tadewi walked toward the carving.
She placed her palm against it.
Orange light flickered.
The wall shifted.
I jumped backward.
A narrow passage opened.
I stared.
Then looked at Tadewi.
"How did you know?"
"I didn't."
"Wonderful."
Willow peered into the darkness.
"Do we trust it?"
I considered.
"No."
Tadewi stepped inside.
We followed.
Because apparently not trusting something had never stopped any of us.
The passage was narrow.
Too narrow for Willow and me to walk beside each other.
The walls were covered in writing.
Old Air script.
Tadewi slowed.
Her fingers brushed the stone.
"What does it say?"
She read silently.
Then stopped.
"That's strange."
I sighed.
"I am beginning to hate those words."
She ignored me.
"'The breath is borrowed.'"
I frowned.
"'The body is earth.'"
Her fingers moved.
"'The blood is water.'"
Another line.
"'The spirit is fire.'"
I looked at Willow.
She was listening closely.
Tadewi reached the final carving.
Her expression tightened.
"'But the soul...'"
She stopped.
"What?"
She stared.
"Tadewi."
"'The soul belongs to neither the world nor the gods.'"
Silence.
I frowned.
"That doesn't sound right."
"Why?"
"Because the gods keep making decisions about everyone else's souls."
Willow's mouth twitched.
Tadewi didn't smile.
She looked farther down the passage.
"These words are older than the kingdoms."
My stomach tightened.
"How much older?"
"I don't know."
She looked back at the carvings.
"But I've never seen this version."
I stepped closer.
"What version do you know?"
"'The soul returns to the gods.'"
I stared.
"That's quite a difference."
"Yes."
I looked at the words.
The soul belongs to neither the world nor the gods.
A strange thought moved through me.
Mortimer's dead.
The blackness inside them.
The way violet fire consumed it.
I pushed the thought aside.
One mystery at a time.
Preferably.
"Keep going."