Persephone peered over the rocky ledge at the temple below. She had become the de facto leader of the troupe that had set out from Brighton a day after the Supplanter force. Gerhold and Celaina had more experience in these matters, but they could not keep up with the formidable woman and repeatedly asked for breaks. They had taken horses out of the city initially, but once they got to the foothills, the mounts stepped too slowly and carefully to make keeping them logical. Also, Yori warned that some of the narrow paths they would take wouldn’t be able to support the horses, so they had left them behind.

The islander mercenary had thought about taking them to the back door but decided that he didn’t owe these people any favors and instead did the bare minimum to earn his freedom. He was technically the leader of this group, for he knew the way, but Persephone kept such a close watch on him that he didn’t feel in control.

Terrance was young enough to keep up with the woman but lacked any fundamental understanding of what a leader should do in this situation. When they reached the last outcropping before the temple, he understood he had no plan of attack and yielded to Persephone. Beyond their current position, the narrow trail wove around peaks as it approached the temple, always keeping the building in site. More critically, it kept anyone approaching the temple visible for almost half an hour before getting close. And when they did get near the structure, only a narrow ledge bridged the way onto the plateau on which the temple was constructed.

They all assumed the fortress went back and down into the mountain, but from their vantage point, it looked like it was built up from a ledge 150 feet in diameter. The visible structure covered only half of that, leaving a broad ledge dozens of feet across skirting the entry. You could fit a hundred people outside the temple on the plateau without fear of anyone shoving someone else off the ledge to their death over a hundred feet below in the steep valley. Only 20 men stood there now, but it might as well be 100. They all had bows and would have clear shots of anyone who approached. Even if they could avoid getting hit, they would have to attack the mob in single file as they traversed the last stretch that led to the open ledge.

“There is no way,” Terrance said as he dropped from the elevated perch after scoping out the scene with Persephone. “It was designed to prevent an attack, and we are not equipped to handle it.”

The female islander dropped from the lookout as well and turned to Yori. “There is a back way,” she said confidently. “No one would design a temple like this. If it ever fell into the wrong hands, there would be no way to take it back. Plus, the leaders of this temple would want to be able to come and go in secret. You led us into a trap on purpose.”

Yori stared back at the woman, hoping his voice sounded as confident as hers. “I’ve done as I was asked. If there is a back way, I don’t know of it.”

In a flash, the tall woman was on him, her strong hands grabbing him by his vest and hoisting him up against a rock wall. She moved one forearm across his neck and held him there with barely an effort. He tried to reach for his swords, but her free hand batted the attempts away, and soon, he lacked the oxygen to exert the proper effort.

“You are lying,” she said. “I bet you took the back exit when you left over a week ago.”

Yori was turning blue and tried to squeak out a negative reply, but it was barely audible. Persephone had made her point that he was no match for her physically and released him. His feet hit the rocks below him, but his legs weren’t’ ready to support him yet, and he crumpled to a heap.

“Sister,” he gasped. “I promise I don’t know . . .”

She crouched before him and helped him to his feet by grabbing his shirt collar, hoisting him up, and slamming him back into the wall. “I am not your sister. My sister is in there. I am going in there, and if I find out there was a back way, I will hunt you down like the dog you are.”

Yori looked into her eyes and believed her, but he kept his resolve. She might be able to kill him, but she wouldn’t do it now, and he was betting she wouldn’t survive this encounter to get the chance later. “I don’t know,” he croaked.

Persephone dropped him again, and he had enough composure not to collapse, using the wall behind him for support. “Drop your weapons, and you can go.”

Yori looked up at her in disbelief. “But these are my-”

“Drop them, or I drop you . . . off a cliff.”

Yori decided to consider himself lucky, unbelted his swords, and dropped his bow and quiver to the ground. “Can I keep a dagger to ward off crawners?”

“Fine,” she allowed. “Get out of here.”

Yori didn’t argue anymore and ran back the way they had come.

“That was technically our prisoner,” Terrance said, instantly wishing he hadn’t.

The determined woman gave him a sideways look, and he took a step back. “I heard you promise his freedom if he led us to the temple. Were you going to go back on your word?”

“No, but . . .”

“Then stop wasting my time with these petty complaints, and let’s work on a solution here.” She was buckling on Yori’s swords as she spoke. Though she seemed much stronger than the mercenary, she still had a much slimmer waist, and it took a while before she could adjust the belt so the sheathes hung properly. She drew the weapons to practice and wove them expertly about her body before replacing them on her hips.

“Do either of you know how to fire a bow?” she asked, turning to the two older paladins.

“We both do,” Gerhold replied.

She handed Yori’s bow and arrows to Gerhold and then knelt on the ground, finding a patch of loose sand. She began drawing with her finger. “Alright, everyone. This is the plan.”

Ethan was led into the large cavern and was again reminded how much delvers had contributed to constructing this temple complex. The sizeable domed area was almost too perfect. At nearly 200 feet in diameter and almost half again as tall, the circular room was filled with exquisite carvings up and down the vaulted ceiling. The small-bodied delvers were expert repellers and must have used an extensive network of cables and anchors to carve out this room.

Ruining the symmetry of the round room, the raised dais on which this ceremony would take place was set off to one side, where tall stone pillars encompassed a 75-foot round stage. Each post held a burning torch, with several more lights hanging about the larger room, perfectly illuminating the vast cavern.

Ethan led the captives out of the long tunnel that snaked from the rear of the temple deep under the mountain. Having worked in mines as a youth, he had an excellent underground sense and didn’t think they were even in the same mountain anymore. Several of the nearby peaks encroached on the temple, and his memory of the width of the valley that surrounded this fortress, couldn’t have accommodated a room this big.

Either way, it was clear that great effort had gone into constructing this room, and Ethan only hoped something would happen to ruin it all. He didn’t hold out much hope, though.

Behind him, Emoyen and Sera trudged along. Both women were defeated, having had their religious visions of salvation shattered by the reality around them. The paladin sage had told Ethan that Sera’s spirit had been crushed, that she no longer had the heart for the fight, but now that could also be said about Emoyen. A night spent in her cell had rid any chance of escape she might hold, and the inevitability of this process seemed inescapable.

The Supplanter hadn’t even bothered using Quarton to escort them; instead, he used the few Tallashite men who served as his lackeys and attendants. Quarton was up at the temple entrance, guarding against any attack that might come. Ethan felt he could take down any three escorts at once, even unarmed. Sera could undoubtedly take them all out, and Emoyen was no slouch regarding combat. But with their hands shackled behind them, and those cuffs tied to each other to make a short train, Ethan didn’t think they would be able to organize the coordination necessary to put up a meaningful fight, especially since the women had given in.

Natasha was also there, walking alongside her master, not giving Ethan any indication that she even knew he was there. The Supplanter kept tossing the beautiful woman curious glances as if they had some unfinished conversation that he wanted to continue, but she kept her eyes ahead, walking at the head of the procession with her master. Ethan was confident she didn’t want this to happen and would eventually stand in the way, but she had made no move to that effect yet.

Though much more extensive, this dais was eerily similar to the circle the Sisterhood of the Angelican Saviors had used. Four rings were carved into the permitter of the platform, each connected by crossing lines through the center. Each circle had a large stone pillar behind it, and the men quickly untied Emoyen and Sera from the train of prisoners and secured them to iron rings attached to the posts. To Ethan, it looked like Sera barely had the strength to stand, but slumping to the ground, would put her secured wrists at a painfully awkward angle, so she found the fortitude to remain upright. However, her eyes never wavered from the carved floor before her.

Only after the two women were secured did six men now approach Ethan and guide him over to his waiting post. Two of them held weapons: an iron mace and a barbed whip. Both were non-lethal, so they wouldn't steal his life too soon if they had to fight back against a resistant sacrifice. Ethan didn’t see an advantage in getting bloodied and bruised before being killed, so he allowed himself to be tied up. If something were going to happen to free them at the last moment, it wouldn’t be the result of any heroics he could muster.

Besides the half dozen Tallashite men attending this ceremony, there were several women as well. Four of them reminded Ethan of Britany, though not quite as large. They were each armed and observed as the men moved the prisoners about. They were body disciples and were there in case things got out of hand. Other than Natasha, another woman was dressed in holy robes and pregnant, looking curiously at the three secured sacrifices. Ethan only then realized that she was the fourth, and what that meant was only now dawning on her. As her fellow female supplicants began to lead her to the last pillar, she began to protest, screaming at the Supplanter.

“Master, what is the meaning of this? This is not how it is supposed to happen! What are you going to do to me? What about my baby!”

“Gag her,” Taylon replied dispassionately. The larger women complied, tearing off a strip of fabric from her dress to stuff in her mouth and then tying it in place once her hands were secured behind her. Taylon turned his back to the affair and instead looked at Natasha. “You were never meant for sacrifice,” he said, hoping the lies were not too blatant. “There was always meant to be another way for you. And now that way is clear. You will be my guide in this, as was always intended. After I have ascended, we will share everything. Everything and always.”

Natasha met his gaze, having lost her penitent instincts in the past few days. She would never stare at this one’s feet again. Ethan kept waiting for her to react, to fight back. Surely she could summon a fireball and take out the Supplanter, and the dozen or so others would be no match for her. But as the despair of the situation crept into his own heart, and he felt it weaken his resolve, he knew that the source of her power was fading. If he lost hope, she had no chance and would be reduced to a woman who could only produce a small flame in her palm.

Once all the sacrifices were secure, Taylon walked to the circle’s center, where Natasha stood. The other attendants left the dais and surrounded the raised platform at a distance, eager to watch the ascension of their master and savior. Three of the women had carried the enchanted weapons and laid them on the stone floor along the lines toward their related Elementals. Ethan saw his sword on the stone, the tip pointing at him. The sight of the weapon brought some measure of hope back inside him, but it wasn’t much. The dagger lay before Emoyen, and the axe rested between Sera and the Supplanter. No weapon lay before the still struggling pregnant woman.

“Jennifer should have been here already,” Taylon said.

As if on cue, island warriors started streaming into the cavern through the only entrance. Ethan had seen the men last night and thought the Prince must have brought a dozen of them with him as bodyguards, but now he saw almost fifty assembling in the domed room, filling up the clearing the offset dais created. They formed into a horseshoe around the rim of the cavern and stood at attention as Prince Dantell entered last.

The heir to the throne carried the spear in one hand and a large pearl in the other. He wore billowing black pants tucked into his boots, and a large pouch hung from his waist. He had a red vest with no shirt underneath, and his pale white skin contrasted starkly against the dark colors of his clothing. But his flesh had an energy to it that reminded Ethan of Natasha. As he got closer and stepped onto the ceremonial platform, everyone could see the sparks and mist that hung over the sphere, and everyone knew what that meant. The Supplanter asked anyway.

“What have you done?”

Dantell smiled at the small man and ignored his question. “I see you have prepared properly for the ceremony and saved me the trouble. Thank you. You may now step aside.”

“I will not,” Taylon cried, his voice cracking under the strain. He looked around at the few armed women he had in the room and then at the dozens of armed islanders. He had no position of strength.

“Remove yourself from this circle,” the prince’s voice was low and watery. “Or I will remove you.”

“This is my-” Taylon started, but that was all he got out before lightning leaped from the pearl and blew the Supplanter from the dais. If the explosion of electricity into his body didn’t kill him, then flying up and back fifty feet to slam into the domed ceiling certainly did. And, after he fell headfirst into the stone floor with a sickening crack, there was no doubt.

The supplicants reacted to the violent attack against their master predictably. Since they encircled the round altar, half of them were behind the prince, but the islanders surrounded them, and, with a few armed with crossbows, the mercenaries made sure they never made it to the dais. The rest were picked off one by one with lightning strikes until the threat was over.

Natasha stood silently by, not reacting to either the prince’s appearance or the death of her former master. She, too, was losing her fight, and her survival instincts were starting to kick in. She knew she was never meant to be joined to the Supplanter. She had dreamed of Ethan, but seeing the man shackled to the stone pillar, waiting for his turn to die, she didn’t feel the longing for him that had stirred the passion and fire within her.

But the prince . . .

He was full of life, literally. He was powerful and intelligent. He would be the king soon, and if things went his way over the next few minutes, he would also be the savior. He would rule the world. As his men returned to their posts around the cavern after disposing of the few supplicants, he reached into his pouch, removed the other three natural elementals, and placed them on the floor within the intricate stone carvings just inside their respective weapons. Dantell kept the pearl and spear in his hands and turned his eyes to Natasha. “I told you we were meant to be together.”

Natasha’s heart fell, and so did her body. She found herself on her knees before her new master, barely with the strength to raise her head. When she did lift it, she saw movement to her right. Ethan stared at her, and their eyes met. A more intense look she did not think possible. All the passion and desire she had cultivated for him through her many dreams and hours of meditation came rushing back into her. She felt the strength of the Elemental as powerfully as if it were inside her.

In her heart, the look lasted an eternity, but in reality, it was only a brief moment, and her head continued to rise until her eyes met the Prince. He smiled down at her beautiful face. “You will be my queen?”

Her smile was equally broad, and the tone of her voice matched his, giving away nothing of what was about to happen. “Never.”

The calm way she delivered the rebuke shocked him, and he was equally startled as her hands erupted into a billowing jet of flame and blasted the prince from the circle. He followed the same flight as the Supplanter just had, only far more violently, the impact with the domed wall shaking the cavern.