Adam stopped when Trisky reached the steps of the temple.
"I can go no further," he said. "I haven't had the proper cleansing."
"The goddess invited us," said Hex.
"Her invitation wasn't directed at me," said Adam.
Bitterwood dismounted and followed Jandra up the marble steps, his eyes wide with a look she could only interpret as reverence. Bitterwood crept toward the mahogany idol. He stared at it in silence.
"Have I been wrong all these years?" he asked softly. "Did Hezekiah's lies turn me from the truth?"
At his words, the statue came to life. The goddess tilted her head and looked down at Bitterwood. A smile crossed her lips. The expression of sexuality changed into the gaze of a mother looking at her child.
"A faith untested is no faith at all, Bant Bitterwood," the goddess said. He voice was soothing and gentle. "You've faced many trials since you left my fold, dragon-slayer. What have you learned? Tell me of your wisdom."
"I-I've been a fool," said Bitterwood, dropping to his knees, staring up at the living statue. "There's nothing wise about me."
"Knowing this is a step toward wisdom," the goddess said.
Bitterwood lowered his head and stared at the goddess's feet as she stepped down from the pedestal and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Forgive me," he said, his voice on the verge of tears.
It was more than Jandra could take. She could see what was happening quite plainly with her finely tuned senses. The statue was crawling with the same tiny machines that gave life to Jandra's own illusions. It sickened her to see Bitterwood so callously toyed with. It was obvious from his voice he was in tremendous emotional pain.
"This has gone far enough," Jandra said, lifting her hands toward the statue. She reached out with mental fingers and grabbed at the machines that animated it, attempting to wrest control. The statue jerked in response, its arms falling limp, its head flopping back and forth, as if someone had taken it by the shoulders and given it a good shake. Jandra felt needles of pain prickling against the interior of her skull as something fought her control. She'd never experienced this feedback before; always in the past, her mind had been the only mind in command of the invisible engines. Now, a second force resisted her.
The eight-foot-tall mahogony statue marched toward Jandra in slow, forceful steps, as if walking against a powerful wind. The fingers of the statue's right hand extruded into long wooden spikes. Jandra's muscles strained as she fought to keep the statue from moving nearer. She knew if she relaxed her concentration for even a second, the statue would spring forward and bury the spikes in her heart. Bitterwood still sat on his knees, dumbfounded, watching in useless bewilderment.
"A-a little help here, Hex?" she said, as the statue drew ever closer.
"Of course," Hex said, as his long scaly neck shot over her shoulder like a jet of red flame. The sun-dragon's teeth crunched into the statue's head, splintering it. The statue stabbed upward with her spikes but Hex easily caught the attack with his fore-talon. With a crack, he ripped the wooden arm free of the torso and tossed it across the room. He whirled, catching what was left of the statue with his tail and batting it. It crashed against the living trees that formed the walls of the temple, then clattered to the floor, lifeless.
"Okay, bitch, it's on," a disembodied voice growled. The air in front of Jandra was suddenly full of rainbows, and the largest of these rainbows ripped between the yellow and the green revealing a black void beyond. A woman's arm shot out from the darkness and grabbed Jandra by the wrist.
"Nobody fucks me like this," a voice on the other end of the darkness shouted. The slender arm yanked Jandra from her feet with superhuman strength. The walls of the temple vanished as Jandra fell into the rainbow. Beyond the colors, everything turned dark. Somewhere in the distance behind her, seemingly miles away, she heard Hex bellow her name. Then the rainbow closed, and she could hear and see and feel nothing at all.
Bitterwood rose from his kneeling position as Hex stood gaping at the empty space where Jandra had stood. Biiterwood charged across the room and grabbed the broken wooden torso of the goddess. He gripped the statue's shoulders with both hands and cried, "What did you do to her? Bring her back!"
His voice trailed off as he realized that the thing in his hands was only a heavy lump of polished wood, utterly lifeless. Had he once more slipped into the dreamland between life and death? Was he sleeping, to have imagined this statue had been alive only seconds before?
"Jandra!" Hex bellowed, the force of his lungs causing the leaves of the surrounding vegetation to tremble. "Where are you?"
"This was real?" Bitterwood asked Hex.
"I saw it," Hex said.
Bitterwood raced toward the steps of the temple. Adam was still outside, sitting astride Trisky. "What happened to Jandra?" Bitterwood shouted. "Where did she go?"
Trisky skittered backward at the sound of Bitterwood's voice. Adam looked taken aback. "What do you mean? I know less of what's happened than you."
"Your goddess attacked Jandra," Hex said, his head jutting out parallel to Bitterwood's shoulder. "She was simply standing there when the statue attacked without provocation."
"The goddess knows our hearts," said Adam. "Perhaps Jandra was corrupted beyond redemption."
"Jandra was a good-hearted girl," Bitterwood said, stepping toward Adam, clenching his fists. "She cannot possibly be as corrupted by this world as I've been. Make your goddess bring her back."
"Father, choose your words carefully," Adam said. "The notion that the goddess can be made to do anything other than her own divine will is blasphemous."
"I've committed sins much worse than blasphemy," said Bitterwood.
"The goddess is the embodiment of wisdom," Adam said. "If she acted in a hostile fashion, you must have faith that your companion was deserving of this judgment."
Bitterwood wanted to leap over the head of the long-wyrm and tear Adam from his saddle. Perhaps if he beat him to a pulp, Adam would agree to pray for Jandra's return. Bitterwood was chilled to discover his violent rage rising against his own blood. The memory of his brother Jomath dying at the foot of a temple much like this one rose in his mind. His hatred had ended his brother's life. Would the darkness within him demand a similar fate for his own son?
Bitterwood let out a long, slow breath. It wasn't his son who needed to be beaten until he prayed. He slowly sank to his knees. He bowed his head, aware of Hex only inches away, fully cognizant of his vulnerability if the great beast chose this moment to take his revenge. In an act of surrender, he closed his eyes and whispered, softly, "Goddess, please. Show mercy upon Jandra, just as she showed me mercy. Return her to us."
Above him came the sound of giant wings flapping. It wasn't Hex-even with his eyes closed, Bitterwood could sense the sun-dragon looming over him.
Bitterwood opened his eyes and looked up.
A bare-chested angel in black pants dropped from the sky toward him, his descent slowed by gentle flaps of gleaming golden wings. The angel carried something in his arms: a human form, judging from the legs jutting out-a girl? Jandra? No, the legs were too small and spindly.
As the angel landed on the steps of the temple, Bitterwood at last caught a flash of blonde hair as the girl lifted her head from angel's breast.
"Zeeky!" Bitterwood cried, his heart swelling to discover she was alive. He experienced a strange and unfamiliar sensation. Could this be joy he felt, after so many years of knowing nothing but hatred and regret?
"Mr. Bitterwood!" Zeeky shouted as she dropped from the angel's arms and ran toward him. "You're okay!"