Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(68)
She rounded the last row only to reel back in fright. A gorgon glared at her from the gloom with locks of wild hair and a stony stare. She gulped, resisting the urge to run away. Then she remembered Medusa gave protection against the evil eye. What was she guarding?
The circular bas-relief was broad, the width of a large window. Why would a cellar boast such a decoration? The paint on the features was peeling. It must have been there for years. She crept closer, wondering why it was at an angle. Then she noticed the hinges and realized it was a portal to another room. She surveyed the wall beside it and gasped. There was an emblem of a sphinx etched into the brick. A sign that a tunnel must lie beyond. She scanned the floor. Small footprints were outlined in the dust. Her stomach lurched. Tas must have ventured into the hidden passageway.
Semni took a deep breath, then swung open the Medusa hatch. It was pitch black inside. She felt as though hands would grab and yank her into the darkness if she thrust her head inside. “Tas! Come out this minute!”
She heard the scuttling of mice in the blackness. Panic rose at the thought that he might be trapped inside. She turned and ran out of the room to the corridor, scanning the row of torches on the wall. One was already missing. She wrenched another from its bracket.
She balked once again when she returned to face the mythical creature, but the knowledge the boy could be hurt gave her courage enough to push the torch through the opening. She peered inside to find there was another storeroom beyond.
Edging her way through, she stepped down onto an earthen floor. The air was warmer in the chamber, protected from drafts, the smell fusty. The flames of the torch steadied, becoming smooth and sculpted in the stillness. She raised it high. The room was empty, its corners dark beyond the halo of light. As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she noticed there was a heap of bricks scored with scorch marks piled against one wall.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end at the strong sense she was being watched. She swiveled, illuminating each wall. A shadowy figure loomed. A scream stuck in her throat, terror turning her hoarse. She closed her eyes, hoping blindness would protect her. She waited for a hand to seize her.
When nothing happened, she opened one eye nervously. In the flickering light, she saw that a woman was painted on the wall with high arched wings fanned out behind her. Vanth. Dressed in hunting boots and a short chiton, the spirit held a torch to guide the dead to Acheron. Her face was serene with beauty, belying her danger. Semni’s teeth chattered. A benign demoness guarded this chamber. There was evil here.
Tearing her eyes from the painting, she swung around, vainly trying to see if the boy was huddled in a corner. She paced the line of the walls, and in the wavering light, she saw another Medusa hatch slung open with a sphinx painted beside it. This time when she thrust the brand into the space beyond, she shuddered. There was a low narrow passageway leading into the blackness.
Blood thumped against her temple. She found it hard to breathe, not sure what to do. She’d managed to force herself into the first hidden chamber, but she doubted she could enter the tunnel. The very walls might close in on her and crush her.
Minutes dragged. Where had Tas gone? An image of his secret trysts with Lord Artile returned. And how the prince managed to access the temple where they used to meet.
Scrambling back through the hatchway to the cellar, Semni dropped the torch in her haste as she sped through the maze of corridors to the service lane. Picking up the sides of her chiton, her shoes slipping on mud and slush, she knocked people aside as she rushed toward the sanctuary next door. A place where she knew Prince Tas would find Aricia, the priestess who had once again lured him there.
THIRTY
Semni halted when she reached the sanctuary, surprised to see a long line of worshipers snaking up the steps and across the temple portico. Each was waiting their turn to enter and lay votives before Uni.
Knowing she could waste no time in finding the prince, Semni edged past. “Excuse me, I’m on a royal errand,” she repeated. “Excuse me, let me pass.” A pathway was forged despite grumbles until she reached the doorway to the chamber where Queen Uni resided.
There was a hush to the room, the air dense with incense fumes. Acolytes were marshaling people to ensure the business of devotion was efficient, directing supplicants to move forward to deposit their gift on the altar table, kneel to pray, and then move on. Semni was amazed to see the floor littered with statuettes as well.
Two cepens cleared away the excess figurines, piling them to the side, discarded prayers jumbled in a heap once they had served their purpose.
One woman kneeled before Uni, pulling her son down beside her. The child looked fatigued and was coughing, his eyes red and face flushed.
Semni hurried to the workshop at the back of the sanctum. She’d once hidden and watched Artile speak to Tas of the firmament and thunderbolts and portents there. Before she crossed the threshold, though, Lady Tanchvil emerged from the workroom holding Tas by the hand. Aricia followed.
The boy examined his feet rather than look at Semni.
“Thank the gods,” she murmured, then curtsied before the high priestess.
“You have come for the prince? Aricia was about to deliver him home.”
Semni was relieved the hatrencu was honorable. “I’m glad, my lady. Thank you.” Then she waggled her finger at Tas. “You’ve been very naughty. You shouldn’t have run away like that.”