“What’s more important than love?” Malory asked and earned a slow, quiet look from Pitte.

“Some would say nothing, others would say honor, truth, loyalty. Others did, and for the first time in the memory of the gods, there was dissension, rebellion. The balance was shaken. The young god-king, crowned now, was strong and withstood this. And the mortal maid was beautiful and true. Some were swayed to accept her, and others plotted in secret.”

There was a whip of outrage in his voice, and a sudden cold fierceness that made Malory think of the stone warriors again.

“Battles fought in the open could be quelled, but others were devised in secret chambers, and these ate at the foundation of the world.

“It came to pass that the god-king’s wife bore three children, three daughters, demigoddesses with mortal souls. On their birth, their father gifted each with a jeweled amulet, for protection. They learned the ways of their father’s world, and of their mother’s. Their beauty, their innocence, softened many hearts, turned many minds. For some years there was peace again. And the daughters grew to young women, devoted to each other, each with a talent that enhanced and completed those of her sisters.”

He paused again, as if gathering himself. “They harmed no one, brought only light and beauty to both sides of the Curtain. But there remained shadows. One coveted what they had that no god could claim. Through sorcery, through envy, despite all precautions, they were taken into the half-world. The spell cast plunged them into eternal sleep, a living death. And sleeping, they were sent back through the Curtain, their mortal souls locked in a box that has three keys. Not even their father’s power can break the locks. Until the keys turn, one, by two, by three, the daughters are trapped in an enchanted sleep and their souls weep in a prison of glass.”

“Where are the keys?” Malory asked. “And why can’t the box be opened by enchantment since it was locked by it?”

“Where they are is a puzzle. Many magicks and spells have been cast to unlock the box, all have failed—but there are clues. The souls are mortal, and only mortal hands can turn the keys.”

“My invitation said I was the key.” Malory glanced at Dana and Zoe, got nods of confirmation. “What do we have to do with some mythological legend?”

“I have something to show you.” Pitte rose, gestured toward the archway. “I hope it interests you.”

“The storm’s getting worse.” Zoe sent a wary look toward the windows. “I need to start home.”

“Please, indulge me.”

“We’ll all leave together.” Malory gave Zoe’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s just see what it is he wants to show us first. I hope you’ll invite me back at some point,” she continued as she walked to the doorway to join Pitte and Rowena. “I’d very much like to see more of your art collection, and perhaps repay the favor by giving you a private tour of The Gallery.”