These steps ascended to an arched opening set midway up the wall. None of the spires had an external door, so this opening was the only way inside the triangular compound. No physical gate was set into the door-like opening. Maybe that was because life had been peaceful in ancient days and no one had feared attackers or thieves, or maybe it was because the always-open gate was a lure to entice the unwary into a trap.

There was no way to know. Whoever had built this place was long gone before the empire; of that, she was sure. Elen respected the potency of haunts, but she did not fear them the way she prudently feared the threat of a steel blade held in the hand of a brutal soldier or a barbed whip by a cruel overseer.

She went up the stairs first and made space on the landing, beneath the arch, for Kem to stand beside her. The interior was an enclosed, triangular courtyard with a holystone-lined pool at the center, within a circle of holystone pavement. Beyond the pavement, the courtyard’s ground was bare rock except for three holystone paths that led from the circle to the closed doors of each spire.

She indicated the holystone, and Kem nodded, understanding this pavement was the warding she’d mentioned. But he didn’t look at the pavement for long. Instead, his gaze sped upward along the spires. The towers were linked at the top by an elaborate and magnificent scaffolding. It extended out from the crown of each spire to form a delicate three-way bridge. The bridges met on a central platform that seemed suspended in the air directly above the pool. By some magic, perhaps the last remnants of wicked sorcery, the scaffolding couldn’t be discerned from the outside, so it was spectacular both because of its ornate construction and its unexpected presence.

Kem choked back a garbled sound as he stared up at this architectural marvel. Elen delighted in watching his face shine with excitement. After a few moments, aware of incoming night, she tapped him on the arm.

They descended into the courtyard via a ramp that sloped from the opening down to the ground. Scraps of vegetation and dead bugs lay scattered on the rock where the wind had blown them. The holystone pavement remained pristine, as if it had been swept that morning. It was darker inside the courtyard than outside because of the shadows. As stars blinked into view overhead she guided him onto the pavement and set down her pack.

“You can speak here,” she said, “but do not leave the circle. There’s a basin where you can wash your feet. Not in the spring. It’s pure-water.”