She showed it to Meiner. “See? Told you. Any idea what god your gran used to worship?”
Meiner shook her head, glancing quickly at the list before turning back to the road. “The second one…I’ve heard that name somewhere.”
“Balor.” Dayna bit her lip, reading through the information. “You better hope it’s not him.” She cleared her throat. “The deadly one. Balor of the evil eye. God of drought and blight.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound great.”
“Maybe she used to worship him.” Dayna frowned at the illustration of a fiery-eyed demon with goat horns. “We already know she did black magic, but that doesn’t mean she’s doing it now.” She paused. “Though the fact she brought it doesn’t exactly bode well.”
“It could be something that was just in her trunks. She hasn’t cleaned them out in years,” Meiner said. “We don’t have enough proof yet.”
“Well, until we can get proof, we can’t do anything.” Dayna slipped her phone back into her pocket. “And finding the ruins is a bit more urgent.” She glanced out the window. They were driving along the coast now.
“Maybe we should call the others. You know, let them know where we’re going.”
“Let’s get there first.” Meiner glanced in the rearview mirror, and Dayna could guess what she was thinking. She didn’t want to face Yemi and Reagan right now, and probably didn’t want to deal with Cora either.
Dayna focused on the road ahead of them and pressed her lips together tightly. She’d leave it up to Meiner to do the right thing and apologize when they got back.
When they pulled up in front of the low fence that hemmed in the forest, the parking lot was empty. “This is it.”
Dayna slid out, banging the door shut behind her. A patchwork quilt of sunbeams filtered through the trees, painting them both in patterns of dappled light as Dayna followed Meiner down the uneven dirt trail. In the partial shade the morning air was biting, and she pulled her fingers into the sleeves of her sweater. Neither of the girls spoke as they walked, listening to the sounds of the birds in the trees above them. Dayna felt jumpy, her pulse picking up with every crackle of underbrush.
When the trail was wide enough, Meiner slowed, falling into step with her. “There’s no one here. No cars, no footprints. Try to relax.”
Dayna gave her a brief look and then glanced back down at the path, stepping over a thick root. Every part of the forest reminded her of the vision. Her nerves felt like bowstrings stretched tight, ready to break at every rustle in the bushes.
Just walking the path was bringing it all back. The distant, dreamlike memories that couldn’t possibly be hers. The feeling of holding the book. The connection she’d felt to the horned woman, like she’d known her from somewhere.
All impossible.
“Wait, I remember this. It’s just ahead.” Meiner quickened her pace, and Dayna had to hurry to keep up with her long-legged stride.
“I don’t see— Whoa.”
When they came around the bend, it was not Cernunnos who waited for them.
There was nothing dreamlike about the forest anymore. Dayna was totally and completely in the here and now as they stepped into the small sunlit clearing in the woods.
Dayna breathed in deeply, suddenly hyperaware of the birdsong in the trees above them, the smell of pine, the wind rushing past her. It was all so real.
And so was the moss-covered tumble of stones set in the center of a cluster of oak trees.
The temple was here.
CHAPTER THIRTY
MEINER
It had been years since she’d been here. She’d forgotten the way the church seemed to hunker in the middle of the path, crumbled walls sticking up in points like a jagged stone crown. It was half swallowed by the hungry forest, wrapped in vines and covered in moss, as if it had emerged from the ground looking that way.
They moved closer, approaching the church as if it were a wild cat crouched in the center of the forest path. Meiner half expected to see something moving in the empty, green-framed windows, but it was still. The birdsong continued, and crows called to one another in the branches above them. It made her feel a little better. This was not the dead quiet that had fallen in the apple orchard before the candles snuffed out, before the horrible many-voiced entity spoke through Cora.
There was nothing here.
“This is it.” Dayna clutched her arms as if she was cold, and Meiner could see her hands shaking. She thought about reaching out, touching her shoulder.
But shame kept surging through Meiner. She’d been so stupid.
Dayna moved into the entrance of the church and let out a shaky breath. “It’s not here.”
The walls cast the inside of the ruins partly into shadow, and Meiner moved slowly into the center, footsteps absorbed by the soft moss
carpet.
Dayna traced a hand over the stone wall. She was staring at a group of symbols that had been carved there, strange, curling signs that Meiner remembered from the vision. They looked like things she knew—the shield knot and the triquetra—but they differed in subtle ways. Like someone had been trying to draw them from memory and got some of the lines wrong.
Dayna hunkered down to examine the base of the wall. “Here’s the Butcher’s mark. And this is the one that means Lugh. I don’t know what the rest are.”
“Let’s get a picture.” Meiner pulled her phone out and snapped a picture of the wall. Dayna stood from her crouched position, staggering slightly. Meiner caught her arm, more out of instinct than anything, and Dayna looked startled. A flush crept over her face.
Meiner let go quickly, but Dayna only mumbled, “Thanks,” and brushed awkwardly at her sweater. Then she stopped and blurted out, “What was it Cora did that made you so mad?”
Meiner blinked, then scrubbed a hand across her face. Just remembering it made the anger flare to life again, but she tried to shove it back down and keep her voice even. “She…kissed me.” It was almost gratifying to see Dayna’s mouth drop open.
“Oh, I…Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.”
Meiner shrugged. “Neither was I. But that’s probably what she wanted, to shock me.”
When Dayna spoke again her voice was quiet. “I get why you were so mad. If you didn’t want it, it’s not okay.”
“I didn’t”—Meiner paused, face burning—“want it, I mean. But all the same, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Dayna’s mouth twitched upward, just for a second. “Yeah, or remodeled the wall.”
Meiner grinned, and a beat of silence stretched between them, less awkward than before. After a second, though, Meiner realized the birds had stopped chirping.
From somewhere far away there came the crunch of underbrush. Dayna stiffened.
The back of Meiner’s neck was beginning to prickle. “We should go.”
She was moving for the door, when Dayna said, “Hold on a minute.” Meiner turned to see her crouched near the spot in the floor she’d tripped over. One of the moss-covered stones seemed to have crumbled slightly, revealing a sliver of darkness. “I think it’s hollow underneath.”
Meiner watched, surprised, as Dayna started tugging at the rock. After a second Meiner shrugged and hunkered down beside her. With two of them shoving and pulling at the slippery stone, it finally gave way, and Dayna fell over onto her backside with a startled shout.