"Adam," said Jandra. "I wondered what had happened to you."
Adam walked down the steps, holding his arms wide open. "It's good to see you," he said, embracing her. The hug lasted several seconds. Shay wondered if there was something more to Jandra's and Adam's relationship than he was aware of. Or was this hug only a greeting? And why should it matter to him?
Adam released Jandra. "Welcome, brother," he said, and wrapped his arms around Shay. "You're an honored guest here."
The hug lasted for a few seconds longer than Shay felt it needed to. Within the temple, he could see a life-sized statue of a nude woman carved from mahogany. The goddess, he supposed. Chapelion had never educated him much in the various human faiths, but he'd picked up some knowledge from his fellow slaves.
Adam finally released Shay from his embrace. "What brings you back to these mountains?"
"I'm returning to Jazz's kingdom," said Jandra.
Adam frowned. "For what purpose?"
Jandra started to speak, then stopped. She finally said, "I think Hex might be going back underground to find the goddess heart. I have to stop him. I could use your help."
Shay wondered why Jandra was lying. This wasn't her true motivation. She was going because she wanted to reclaim her magic.
"I won't go back into the underworld," said Adam. "My days as a warrior are behind me. After seeing the scars my father bore upon his soul after a lifetime of fighting, I've taken a vow of non-violence. I intend to serve the goddess in more benign ways. It is a path, I pray, that will spare me my father's fate."
"The goddess is dead," Jandra said. "You watched us bury what little remained of her. How can you serve a dead goddess?"
Adam waved toward the town of Winding Rock and the valley beyond. "Winter has gripped this valley. The fields are brown and barren. Yet is the earth dead? Spring will awaken the sleeping land. So, too, shall the goddess wake from her slumber."
"Bitterwood stabbed her in the heart with Gabriel's flaming sword," said Jandra. "She was burned to ash. I don't think she's waking up, Adam."
"My father slew only an aspect of the goddess. You'll see. She'll rise again."
"Speaking of your father, he's down in Winding Rock. Do you want me to let him know you're here?"
"No," said Adam. "My father and I have said all we need to say to one another. In the years we were apart, I dreamed of reuniting with him. I imagined him as a hero, and imbued his dream with all the best qualities of humanity. The man I met was a cruel monster who was only happy when he was fighting. Perhaps I'm to blame as well. No doubt our reunion was poisoned by my own idealism. No flesh and blood man could have ever lived up to my vision."
"I understand," said Jandra. "I always wanted to find my human family. I longed for relatives more than anything else in the world. Now, I've finally met my brother. His name is Ragnar. He's a wild-eyed, naked, long-haired prophet of the Lord who wants to burn me at the stake. It's really made me miss Vendevorex. I wish I'd understood how important he was to me while he was still alive."
"The kindest thing my father ever did for me was spare my life after he'd slaughtered my companions and my mount," Adam said. "Contrast this with the compassion of the goddess in taking me in as an orphan and giving me a life filled with wonders. It's not mere blood that defines a family."
Jandra's hand dipped into her coat pocket and pulled out a square of folded paper and a pencil. She circled something on the paper.
"What are you writing?" Shay asked.
"This is something I've started doing to organize my thoughts," said Jandra. "I'm keeping lists of all the things I need to do. To be honest, I think this was one of Jazz's habits-she called these 'to do lists'. All this talk about Vendevorex reminded me that I still have to find his stolen body."
She unfolded the paper. There were at least two dozen items on her list. "Find Ven's body" was now circled. Two slots above it, "Get back genie!" was underlined several times. Near the bottom of the page was written "Find Atlantis." This had three question marks off to the side. Lizard leaned down to study the paper. Of course, earth-dragons couldn't read. Could they?
"The evening is growing cold," said Adam.
"It looks like snow," Shay said, glancing toward the clouds.
"It won't snow," said Adam, with a curious certainty. "Still, I have a small cabin not far from here. You can spend the night there. Tomorrow I'll send you on your journey with fresh provisions and my best wishes."
"Thank you," said Jandra. "I appreciate your hospitality." She smiled. "You really didn't turn out a thing like your father."
"That means a lot to me," said Adam.
As dawn came to the village of Winding Rock, Zeeky waited patiently on the edge of the well. Skitter was curled around the stone structure. He snored as he slumbered, a sound like gravel pouring from a wheelbarrow. The poor thing needed his rest. They'd really put him through his paces over the last few days. Poocher was already awake. He was snuffling around in the flower beds, pushing away the mulch and dirt, digging up the bulbs he found and wolfing them down. He didn't offer any to Zeeky.
"I don't know why you've been acting so bratty lately," she said. Poocher looked up. It was harder to read his expressions while he wore his visor. She couldn't see his eyes. Still, his overall posture conveyed offense at being called a brat.
"You used to be sweet," she said.
He snuffed, then thrust his face back into the dirt, declaring the conversation over.
She turned her gaze toward the cottage. The curtains in the window moved slightly for the tenth time since daybreak. The smoke rising from the chimney carried the scent of baking biscuits. Her stomach grumbled. Those would really taste good.
She waited patiently as the sun rose higher into the sky. Poocher finished digging up the last flower bed. Looking content, he climbed up onto his saddle. He did so with gentle, sure-footed movements. Even though he was now quite portly, Poocher still possessed a certain gracefulness. Skitter didn't even stir.
Long after the smell of biscuits had faded, the curtains pushed aside for one more peek. When they fell, she heard muffled voices from inside.
Here and there around the village, there were signs of life as the other houses woke. A few heads poked from doorways from time to time to stare at the well and the snoring long-wyrm. From the backs of the houses, Zeeky could hear doors opening. She caught glimpses of old men and young children as they tiptoed to reach the outhouses by the creek. The doors were swiftly pulled shut behind them.
At last, the rear door to Barnstack's cottage creaked open. From where she sat, she could see Barnstack's outhouse if she leaned a bit to the left. She saw the old man skulking toward it. He glanced back over his shoulder. Seeing that she could see him, he broke into a jog. He yanked open the privy door.
A man's arm reached out from the darkness of the outhouse and grabbed Barnstack by his collar, yanking him from his feet. The door slammed shut and Barnstack shrieked. His high-pitched cries lasted for several minutes. Around the village, dogs began to bay. Skitter lifted his head at the sound of the dogs. He let loose a low growl and bared his teeth. Instantly, all the village dogs fell silent.
Barnstack's screams faded. They were followed by incoherent sobbing as a gruff voice shouted out questions. The occasional brief, sharp, shriek of pain caused Skitter to jerk nervously. He uncoiled from the well and looked at Zeeky with anxious eyes.
Poocher stood up in his saddle. The bristles on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced at Zeeky with a look that said, "Say the word. I'm ready for action."
"Patience," she counseled.
Several long minutes passed where no sounds at all came from the outhouse. Finally, the door swung open and Bitterwood stepped out. He marched to the cottage, disappearing from sight. Skitter flinched as a loud WHAM erupted from behind the house.