All around them, stark palaces of shining, silver towers jutted from the crater’s walls. If she strained her eyes, she could see a faint horizon on the far side of the spire, the gleam of distant buildings.
She gazed down at the vast valley spread out below, filled with stone dwellings. She drew in a slow breath. The human race had managed to send twelve people to the moon, and yet here was a vast kingdom no one had ever noticed.
She searched the skies for the Earth—home, something familiar—but only stars twinkled in the black sky. Out here, the air smelled faintly of creosote, and dizziness overwhelmed her. She glanced at Cera, who moved at a fast clip across the bridge, her silver hair trailing behind her.
“Wait!” Ursula called out. “I don’t understand. There’s a whole colony on the moon? Why doesn’t NASA have pictures? And how can I breathe if there’s no atmosphere? And why doesn’t the gravity feel any different?” Those were just the first four questions that entered her mind, but she could keep going.
Cera paused near the other end of the bridge before a gray door. She pointed at the sky. “Can you see that glimmer there?”
As Ursula walked, she looked up at the dome of stars. At first she couldn’t see what Cera meant, but then she noticed a faint shimmer along the horizon. Like the sheen of gasoline on a puddle.
“A glamour of magic surrounds us,” said Cera. “It both hides us from satellites and gives us air to breathe. And it takes care of the gravity problem.”
“How?”
“Magic.”
“Oh,” said Ursula, searching again for signs of the earth. “Are we on the dark side of the moon?”
“Yes. The far side, some call it.”
A dry wind toyed with Ursula’s hair. Shivering, she pulled the robe tighter around her. When she’d left for the Shadow Realm, she hadn’t realized it would be quite so far from home.
Cera pulled open the black door. “It’s freezing out here. Are you quite finished gaping?”
Not yet. She pointed at the spire. “What is that?”
“It’s called Asta. Where the god of night dwells.”
Ursula looked back at the building, trying to imagine what the home of a god might look like inside.
“Are you quite ready?” said Cera impatiently. “I prefer to walk around clothed and wearing shoes.”
Ursula hurried toward the door, her eyes focused straight ahead. As soon as she glanced at the bridge’s ledge, she knew dizziness would overwhelm her.
Through the door, Cera led her into an octagonal hall—half of it black marble. The other half lay completely destroyed, as if a giant fist had smashed through the wall, opening it to the night air. What happened here? Hugging herself, she surveyed the space.
The hair rose on the back of Ursula’s neck. On the mangled side of the hall, sheared steel beams twisted into the air like gnarled fingers. Wind rushed between them, chilling her skin. Shards of glass glinted in the starlight from the remains of old window frames. On the floor, a tile mosaic of a lion’s head lay half smashed. Part of the lion’s mane had been scorched and half its face smashed to dust. Opposite where she stood, steps climbed to a small platform with a circular black door. Some sort of crystalline stone—obsidian maybe.
“Okay. What happened here?” she asked aloud this time.
“A battle.” Cera’s eyes shone in the darkness like starlight. “Our lord is very strong. He protected us.” She turned, crossing to a door in one of the remaining marble walls. “We must cross another bridge to get to your quarters.” She yanked open the door.
Carefully, Ursula tiptoed over the shards of smashed glass and tile, following Cera onto another towering bridge. She kept her eyes on the demon, refusing to look over the vertigo-inducing railings as she crossed.
At the far end, Cera pushed open a door into a pitch-black room. As Ursula stepped over the threshold, candles in silver sconces flickered to life, casting warm light over a dark hall.
“I will be back in the morning,” said Cera, stepping back to the door. “You’ll have everything you need here.” She pulled open the door, then stepped out and slammed it shut with a click.
Ursula crossed to the door, tugging on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked in.
Chapter 5
Ursula surveyed the wide hall. On one side, a spiral stairwell curved upward. The opposite wall abutted a delicate wooden table, adorned with a display of faintly glowing mushrooms.
Beautiful, but slightly unsettling.
Pulling her robe tighter, she followed the hall into a dimly lit, semicircular room.
A great panel of windows curved in the shape of the tower. Through the glass, she had a perfect view of Nyxobas’s gleaming spire, jutting from the crater like a jeweled spear. Guess I won’t be walking around here naked.
A set of marble statues flanked the windows, each at least eight feet tall—nude, athletic men with curly hair and vacant eyes. Ancient Greek, by the look of them.