Читать книгу Sinbad: Rogue of Mars - John Garavaglia - Страница 32

Something was visible through the mist, the silhouette of a temple. Prayer flags fluttered in the breeze, which carried the chiming of wind-bells down from the looming place of worship. Through the cold, blustery night the temple gongs boomed and the conchs roared. Their clamor was a faint echo from within the temple while the priest struggled on his journey. Beads of sweat glistened on his dark blue skin. His fingers twisted the hem of the rich fabric beneath him.

He proceeded to the stone walkway and up a small flight of wide steps to a tall marble door. The priest cautiously made sure he wasn’t followed, and opened the huge door while it gave a creaking and grinding sound.

The priest pulled himself inside. He was in a huge, vaulted hall lit by torches set into iron brackets on the stone floor, forming pools of flickering firelight that melted into surrounding shadows. There were thick, supporting pillars every few yards.

The door creaked and scraped and thudded shut. He locked the doors and took a tour of the temple. He walked down the center aisle past the rows of empty pews. The waning moonlight filtered through the windows overlooking the interior of the building.

The priest squinted, adjusting his sight to the semidarkness. At the far end of the hall there was a raised platform. Numerous candles glowed brightly on the altar, with the scent of incense filled the air. By it stood a robed figure, a person whose features, in the dim glow of the torches, seemed vaguely feminine, but only vaguely.

Despite the freezing temperature outside, the main chamber was warm and humid. The priest felt his body recovering from its ordeal as it warmed. He unclasped his robe and shuffled forward.

He hoped his contact didn’t have second thoughts on joining him.

He was startled by the swift loud flutter of his contact’s moving cloak. Before he could realize what was going on, or

SINBAD: ROGUE OF MARS

32