“Why’d you stop?” Caelan asked, letting the moment go.
“Tomas caught me.” Adrian flashed a smirk over his shoulder at Caelan, appearing more in control of his emotions again. “You know of a scarier reason?”
Caelan chuckled. “No, Tomas is plenty scary. He—”
Whatever he’d been about to say was cast to the wind as his eyes fell on an enormous tree standing in the center of the lane. It looked as if it was Thia’s oldest oak tree. It was certainly the biggest. The trunk was wider across than most buildings and it stretched up, blotting out the sky with massive limbs covered in dark-green leaves.
Oh my, Tula’s voice wavered in his mind. I’ve watched over this tree from a distance since it was a sprout bursting from a tiny acorn. This is the closest I’ve come to seeing it with my own eyes in centuries.
It is so very beautiful, he murmured in reply, but it was a poor description. It was breathtaking in its size and age. It felt as old as the gods that he carried with him. As old as Thia itself.
The tree was made all the more stunning by the fact that a stone structure wrapped its way around it without ever hindering the growth of a single limb or leaf. The stone nooks and paths created ways for humans to climb up.
Among the leaves fluttered hundreds of colorful pennants and tags. Prayers. The visitors to the massive tree had left prayers and messages to the Goddess of Life.
Would you like to see some of the prayers? Caelan offered. Yes, he’d grown increasingly wary of the goddess since first bonding with her, thanks to both her words and actions, but she couldn’t be all bad, right? Look at how the people honored her? She brought brightness and joy into their lives.
No, but I would like to give them a sign that their goddess hears them and appreciates their love. Move closer to the tree.
There was a low snicker in his mind, but he wasn’t sure if it came from Nyx or Caris. The answering grumble of warning was from Kaes. Following the addition of Caris, the battle lines had been more clearly marked, with Tula and Kaes on one side and Caris and Nyx on the other. Sometimes Nyx grew bold and sided with Tula, though. It was rare and usually resulted in him crawling back to Caris with whispered words of endearments.
“Let’s get closer,” Caelan murmured as he started toward the tree.
As they approached, Caelan smiled to see the sidewalk paving stones inlaid with green stones cut to resemble the Stormbreak Godstone. The sky that could be glimpsed through the branches was growing darker with deep hints of orange and purple as the sun set in the west. The air was warm this far south and held the barest floral hints.
Tingles of energy from the Light Stone danced along Caelan’s flesh. The godstone for the God of Wisdom was close, definitely within the city of Brightspire, but he couldn’t get a pinpoint on its location. It was as if the entire city were blanketed in the power of the God of Wisdom.
The moment Caelan stepped beneath the branches of the trees, energy surged out from within Caelan and buried deep into the ground, rushing forward. There was a shift in the leaves overhead, as though they’d suddenly come to life. Around him, some people gasped in wonder while others applauded. Caelan’s gaze snapped up and he smiled to see hundreds of butterflies fluttering out from the green leaves. Their wings were enormous and brightly tinted blue, green, yellow, and red. The visitors to the tree laughed, snapped pictures, and lifted their hands to see if they could get the magical creatures to land on their fingers.
That was why people loved the Goddess of Life. Was there a more benevolent and gentle sign than the butterfly?
And why wouldn’t they love me? Tula asked, but there was an underlying bite to her tone.
Because few have seen the vengeful, controlling side of the loving mother, Caelan replied. They don’t understand.…
But there were few in this world who would ever get such a clear view of the gods as him.
A flicker of something white caught his attention and he watched as a ghostly white butterfly appeared within the horde. A diaphanous creature that appeared more dream than life lazily made its way to him. Caelan couldn’t help but join in the fun and lift his hand toward it, inviting it to land on his finger.
Just before it could reach him, Adrian’s hand shot up and covered his, shoving it down and away from the white butterfly. “Don’t. It’s a bad omen.”
The ghostly creature flitted away as if he hadn’t been its target, seeming to disappear in a cloud of other butterflies. There was a grumble from the goddess, but he didn’t catch what she said.
“What kind of omen?” Caelan asked.
“White butterflies mean death is coming,” Adrian whispered.
Caelan shoved the thought aside. It wasn’t an omen. Tula was just playing games. The tree, butterflies, and even Tula weren’t the reasons for their arrival in the Shrine District of Brightspire.
Blocking out the gods and their squabbles for the time being, Caelan turned toward Adrian, grateful the man was at least somewhat familiar with the Shrine District.
“Where’s the temple dedicated to Lore?” Caelan inquired. Adrian lifted both of his eyebrows at him, and Caelan nearly sighed at himself. Yes, he had to be the only person who was on a first-name basis with the gods. “The God of Wisdom.”
“Oh! Gotcha.” He turned to the left, stared up the street, and turned the opposite direction, frowning. “I’m not sure. The district is arranged around the five gods.”
“Six,” Caelan automatically corrected.
“No, five.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the tree. “The Goddess of Life.” He then pointed down the four streets that branched off where the tree rested at the crossroads. “The gods of Death, Storms, Fire, and Wisdom are at the other four points. I just don’t know which street leads to which god.”