Rebel Angels (Gemma Doyle #2)
Page 95"I'm not comforted by that," I say. Heart racing, half expecting to be swallowed whole by the rock, I step inside and wait for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. It's dank and smells of a freshly tilled garden. Paper lanterns of gold and rose hang from the stone walls, casting a weak light on the mud floors. It is difficult to see more than a few feet ahead, but I can feel that we're climbing, going up and around. Soon, our breathing is labored. My legs tremble from the effort. At last we come to another door. I turn the handle and we emerge to purple and red smoke billowing about us like clouds. A breeze pushes the colorful smoke away, and the scene opens up. We are high above the river. Far below us, the gorgon ship cuts silently through the blue water.
"How did we get so high up?" Felicity asks, trying to catch her breath.
"I don't know," I say.
Ann cranes her neck. "Gracious!" She stares openmouthed at the sensual goddesses carved into the cliff's side, at the curves of their hips and mouths, their dimpled knees, and the lush softness of their rounded chins. These stone women look down at us from so high, noticing but not bothering with us.
"I remember this," I say. "This is near the Caves of Sighs, isn't it?"
Pippa stops. "We shouldn't be here. The Untouchables live here. It's forbidden."
"Let's go back," Ann says.
But when we turn around, the door fades into rock. There is no going back that way.
"I wish I'd brought my arrows," Felicity murmurs.
Someone is approaching. A figure appears in the thick smoke, a small woman with weathered skin the color of a wine cask. Her hands and face are painted in elaborate designs. But her arms and legs! The most hideous sores mark them. One leg is so swollen it is the size of a tree trunk. We turn away in disgust, unable to look at her.
"Welcome," she says."I am Asha. Follow me."
"We were just leaving," Felicity says.
Asha laughs. "Where did you mean to go? This is the only way out. Forward." As we can't leave by the way we've come, we follow. The path is crowded with others. They too are misshapen, bent, scarred.
"Don't stare," I admonish Ann quietly."Just watch your feet."
Asha leads us around the cliff, through arched tunnels supported by pillars. The walls are painted with scenes of fantastic battles--the severing of a gorgon's head, the driving back of snakes, knights dressed in tunics painted with red poppies. I see the Forest of Lights, a centaur playing pipes, the water nymphs, the Runes of the Oracle. It is like a tapestry, with so many scenes I cannot count them all.
Asha stops at the mouth of a cave. A crude carving of a chain of snakes marks the entrance. It looks less like a carving and more like something that has risen from the earth itself. "The Caves of Sighs."
"I thought you said this was the way out," I query.
"So it is." Asha steps into the cave and folds into the darkness. Behind us on the road, the others have formed a cluster five deep and ten across. There is no retreat.
"I don't like this," Pippa says.
"Nor do I, but what choice do we have now?" I say, ducking into the cave.
The moment I'm through, I understand why these caves have gotten this name. It is as if the walls themselves sigh with the bliss of a hundred thousand kisses.
"So beautiful." It's Ann. She's standing before a bas-relief of a face with a long flat nose and large, full lips. Her hands trace the curve of the upper lip, and I think immediately of Kartik. Pippa joins her, enjoying the feel of the stone.
She has our attention now. "Yes," I say. "Do you know where it is?"
"What do you offer?" Asha asks, hands outstretched.
Am I to offer a gift? I've nothing to give. I couldn't possibly part with Simon's necklace or my amulet.
"I'm sorry," I say."I've brought nothing with me."
Asha's eyes betray her disappointment. But she smiles anyway. "Sometimes we seek that which we are not yet ready to find. The true path is a difficult one. To see it, you must be willing to shed this skin like a snake. You must be willing to let go of that which is