ON EDGE (Decorah Security) by Rebecca York Page A

the other plane.
    Ariel turned her head, taking in the scene. Her breath caught as she studied their surroundings.
    He reached for her hand. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” he asked. “Or did you just say it because you thought we were going to die?”
    “I meant it, with all my heart.”
    “That’s the most important thing. I mean—that I love you and you love me.”
    “Maybe not.”
    The way she said it tore at him.
    “Why not?”
    “It is out of our control.” She took his hand. “We must go.”
    “Where?”
    “To the temple—to face them.”
    He didn’t like the resignation in her voice, but he knew that the two of them couldn’t stay here. If the gods had conjured a bleak and dangerous landscape a while ago, they could send a green- and orange-striped tiger charging out of the jungle—or anything else.
    They walked side by side, holding hands, following a path through the dense vegetation. To confirm his earlier speculation, Frank heard rustlings and warning growls in the foliage. And when he looked up, he saw a huge bird circling overhead.
    Ariel followed his gaze and cringed.
    “What is it?”
    “They come for the dead,” she whispered.
    Through the trees he could see a massive white building. They came out of the green foliage to face an enormous structure that towered far above the jungle.
    He had thought Ariel’s house was grand, but this building was like no other he could imagine. In front was a wide marble plaza, leading to a facade carved with pictures depicting life in all its richness—animals, people, plants. Some scenes were peaceful like shepherds tending a flock or parents and children cuddling together. Others depicted violence—battlefields with men tearing at each other or cities burning. They were from prehistory to modern times.
    As with Ariel’s home, there were arched doorways leading inside, not to a courtyard but to an immense open space with a ceiling held up by slender columns that looked too fragile to support the domed roof.
    High above, windows let in rays of light that shone down on a rectangular black stone about two and a half feet high and four feet long in the center of the huge space.
    “What is it?” Frank asked, gesturing toward the stone, although he was afraid he already knew.
    “A sacrificial altar,” Ariel murmured.
    He heard words buzzing in his head and knew they were for Ariel. Approach, servant of the gods.
    She jerked and pulled her hand away from him.
    He tried to hold her back, but her slender body was stronger than it looked. She ran from him and knelt beside the black stone. When she laid her head on the horizontal surface, sick fear leaped inside him. Involuntarily, he looked up and saw something awful hanging in the air thirty feet above her. An enormous blade like the business end of an executioner’s ax.
    Without considering his own safety, he sprang forward, losing his balance with the sudden movement. But he managed to catch himself against the stone and press the upper part of his body over Ariel’s head and neck.
    How dare you interfere. Go back, the voice boomed.
    His heart was pounding inside his chest, but he stayed where he was. “No.”
    We saved her when she was dying, and she has broken her agreement with us. Her life is forfeit.
    He stayed where he was, feeling her body quiver under his as he looked up. “Why? Because I somehow got into this plane of existence and met her? I didn’t intend it. She didn’t intend it. But we met. And we became important to each other. That must mean something to you.”
    When we saved her life, she dedicated herself to serving us.
    “And she was only a child. She knew nothing of the world or of what her agreement would mean. She only wanted to live. She has served you. For more than a thousand years.” He gulped as he said it. “Isn’t that enough? Must she be your slave forever? Let her come back to the world with me.”
    She can only visit your world. She cannot live