Page 159 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

I turn to him and cross my arms over my chest. “I think that this is more than just a temple, and I think that you already know that. The entire set up is so precisely planned as if following a specific order, one that you must be aware of. So perhaps, you should be the one doing the telling and tell us what the hell is going on here.”

The wraith nods thoughtfully and his own gaze lifts to the machine. “Yes. I will explain but first I wish to hear what you see here in this place. I want to see how this all translates to the human eye as it may reveal things I have not considered. If you have not noticed,” he waves a hand toward the skeletal image. “It directly involves the dead.”

I nod because that’s fair enough. Every room in this place has a stark theme reminiscent of some points in history it seems.

“The open courtyard and its water represent both birth and death, I believe. The passage over and through water is attached to both concepts as well as purity. It is a place of beginnings though you don’t realize it from where you are standing. The chamber of growth with its apparent abundance inviting one to take respite in a seeming wilderness brings to mind innocence amidst the dangers of the world.”

Nygohl nods, and his lips twitch and curl in a temptatious smile. “And the next room?”

“Matings. Breeding,” Jugong rumbles, his wings twitching as if still uneasy about the powerful spell of the chamber.

“Yes,” I agree. “But not only that. Each room offers something while also posing a risk to overindulgence. One can be safe and just eat the berries closest to the path but if you venture into the growth to look for better fare or more than what is offered you put yourself in direct danger. The second chamber poses a similar risk.”

Jugong shudders. “Obsession. Getting lost in desire so that you want nothing else.” His head tips in consideration and he sighs wistfully. “Not a bad way to go.”

I cough to cover my choked sound of amusement and shake my head at him before turning my gaze to the room at hand. “This chamber, though, mystifies me a little. You call it the chamber of the mind and it is packed with knowledge in the form of books, but there has to be a catch like in the other rooms, but I cannot see how it relates to this device which deals specifically with tracking the movement of time.”

“It is not obvious?” Nygohl regards me curiously for a moment before tucking his hands behind his back and turning slowly in place as he regards the chamber. “With knowledge comes awareness of the self and the world, but with it, it brings its own frustrations and sorrows as one realizes that they cannot escape time. Even the gods, cannot escape the changes that time wreaks on the worlds of the living and the dead.”

There is something so sad, ageless, and desperately alone that echoes through Nygohl that my heart clenches. I tear my eyes away and rub at my chest disconcertedly as my gaze sweeps what appears to be a pretty ordinary study.

“What is the catch, though? What is the danger laying in wait here? This seems perfectly ordinary.”

He shakes his head, a sad smile tipping his lips. “Look closer and you will see it. The danger is not from the outside this time… but within.”

I frown in confusion but walk closer to one of the numerous images hanging from the walls. Once again it is a collection of people that appear to be talking. In this image they appear to be in rapt conversation, each holding different insignia of sorts declaring their office or specialty. I can’t make sense of all of them but get the theme. This time however, the veiled shadowstake a more definite form at this close inspection and death itself dwells there and waits.

I swallow sharply and slowly back away. “Seeing one’s own destruction ahead but being unable to change it.”

Nygohl nods. “Even the gods who built this place understood that nothing can simply just exist forever, that tides of destruction will always rise and must be met. And naturally they fear such drastic change as much as any mortal, though for vastly different reasons. Immortals dislike change more than anything, and in this place any great threat of change can mean the ending of everything that was built here.”

“And the souls that were walked through here saw their own end, too,” Jugong summarizes in disgust.

Suddenly I understand. The whole kaleidoscope of human emotions that led to this point through the corridors, and the whispers of shared knowledge in this last hallway before entering the chamber of the mind. There is no escape and here they knew that they were preparing to meet their end.

“What happens from here?” I whisper.

“The hall is nothing more than a set of stairs and it takes you to the final room—the chamber of blood. It is the sacrificial chamber.”

I blink rapidly as I feel tears well up into my eyes. They knew that their death was coming. Death to the dead is a hopelessness that holds no promises afterward. They would be afraid as they walked down the stairs, knowing that they were meeting their end there within this temple of death.

“And the clock?” I manage to ask the question even though my lips feel stiff with the emotion choking me.

A fleet smile crosses Nygohl’s face, and he nods approvingly. “You saw that. This entire temple is also a mechanism itself. It aligns to the natural powers of the world and its magic. The clock counts down to the reset of energies when the wild primal energies of the underworld can break forth. Seals must be reset at the weakest hour, fed by the prepared souls of the dead. Naturally the most convenient are those that were captured by the reclamations office for violating their movements restrictions without proper license.”

My stomach plummets and a wave of nausea sweeps over me. “Gods. How many souls am I responsible for sacrificing to this place.”

Jungong’s wings immediately come up around me, comforting me as Nyghol places a hand on my shoulders and gives it a squeeze.

“No one yet, I promise you,” he murmurs. “And I am determined to see to it that not another soul is sacrificed to this place. But we only have this small window. If we fail and the power of the temple is restored, the division created by the Hasken can no longer be interrupted until the realignment occurs once more.” A contemplative expression settles over his face as he peers up at the clock. “I have missed it time and time again, but I shall not this time.”

I frown at his words. Just how old is Nygohl? I don’t recall his file mentioning that he was that old. I don’t really recall even hearing of a wraiththatold. At least not old enough to have seen the underworld cycle multiple times.

“If it is a clock ticking down to reset, why does it have all the levers?” Jugong interrupts as he peers down at them. I also glance down at them curiously.

“Oh, that.” Nygohl shrugs and laughs lightly. “You might say that sometimes it is more convenient to trick the energies of the temple to come into alignment a little earlier to open the vortex rather than await the exact moment. The powers that be are all for convenience when it comes to their sacrifices rather than risk missing the moment.”

“Vortex? What vortex?” I ask, my head coming up in surprise from where I was studying the dials.

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