“Witch’s Hammer!” Selena shouted. “Show yourself, Master Inquisitor, or someone else will bargain for you!”

Nothing happened. There were plenty of men moving among the stones, but no one answered. Finally, a cloaked, hooded figure appeared.

“What are you to think you can bargain with me?” a growling voice shouted back.

“I am vengeance—and I am justice. You tried to reshape our world to your own liking—and you have failed. We stand, and we will always stand. We are the Mother’s Daughters. We are the Mother’s Sons. We are the Pillars of the World. We are the House of Gaian. And we are going to grant your wish. You and your followers are exiled from this world, Inquisitor, but we will give you another to shape as you will.” Selena raised her arms higher. “I call earth!”

“We call earth!” the Sons and Daughters repeated.

“I call air!”

“We call air!”

“I call water!”

“We call water!”

“I call fire!”

“We call fire!”

Power flowed into the circle. Flowed and flowed.

“By the light of the sun, by the light of the moon, by the four branches of the Mother, we make a world beyond this world, anchored to it but never a part of it. We make it out of dreams and will.” Selena pointed at the Witch’s Hammer. “As you will, so mote it be.”

The ground shook. Lightning flashed. The fire that formed a circle rose so high Ashk could no longer see the stones.

The power swirled inside the circle. Swirled and swirled.

Then, with a tremendous thunderclap that knocked Ashk to the ground, it was gone.

Chapter 52

waning moon

Adolfo slowly got to his feet and looked around. Stone.

Nothing but stone. And a spear of gold and silver light no thicker than a fist touching the stone a man’s length in front of him and rising up, up, up until it disappeared somewhere in that vaulted ceiling of stone.

He didn’t like that light. Hated that light. It felt…clean…and repulsive. He moved away from it. He had no trouble seeing. Fire burned among the stones, and the air reeked with the smell of sulfur. He tore off the cloak that now felt too hot and confining and went searching for the water he could hear trickling nearby. It spilled out from a crack and pooled in a hollowed stone that formed a basin. Bending over, he lapped the water. It tasted of blood, of gore, of rotting bodies. Delicious.

He heard voices below him, saw the rocks piled together to make rough stairs leading down into the stones and the fire.

“What happened?” asked one frightened voice. “Where are we?”

“Where’s Master Adolfo?” another voice said. Then, shouting, “Master! Master Adolfo?”

He walked down those rough stairs, moving toward the voices.

“Where are we?”

“It’s—Mother’s mercy! This is the Fiery Pit! We’ve been thrown into the Fiery Pit!”