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  “Behold,” Sylvan said quietly. “The holy mountain of the Mother of All Life.”

  It was indeed a mountain, and not a flat topped mesa like the rest of the towering landmasses that dotted the desert. The peak of it was incredibly high but Nadia couldn’t see its tip—clouds, the only clouds she had seen in the otherwise clear sky—shielded it from view.

  The rest of the holy mountain was bare of vegetation and seemed to be almost perfectly cylindrical with one exception. Jutting out from the side of it, about three fourths of the way up its cone, Nadiah saw a large outcropping covered in green and purple vegetation.

  “The Healing Garden,” Sylvan murmured in a low voice. “I thought it was part of the legends but it exists—it really exists.”

  “What? Where?” Rast turned to look at him and the desperation and pain in his truegreen eyes hurt Nadiah’s heart. She wanted to hold his hand, to tell him she loved him and that everything would be all right. But he was walking ahead of her, beside Sylvan and she couldn’t reach him. “There’s a garden that heals people?” he asked her kinsman. “Where?”

  Sylvan gestured at the outcropping covered in lush foliage. “There, I think. It’s said that the Goddess walks there at certain times of the day. A drink from the fountain of the Healing Garden was said to cure any illness, no matter how severe.”

  “Then let’s go! Right now!” Rast started to speed up from a walk to a jog but Sylvan caught his arm.

  “Slow down, Brother. The whole thing may be just a myth—wishful thinking out of one of the old legends. And even if it’s true, we can’t reach it.”

  “What? Why not?” Rast demanded.

  “Because,” Sylvan said simply. “According to the legends, the only way to reach the Healing Garden is to fly there.”

  “Again with the flying people.” Rast grimaced as if in pain and reached behind himself to scratch his back. “Damn it—I think I must be allergic to something in this damn place. My back is itching like crazy. It hasn’t itched this much since you injected me with that hemo-booster.”

  “Is that right?” Sylvan looked thoughtful.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Rast sighed and appeared to decide to ignore his discomfort. “How do you think that priestess disappeared like that? We’re still at least a mile from the mountain. Either she’s a really fast runner or—”

  “It was a projection of her mind.” The new voice startled them all—Nadiah so much that she almost fell off her stretcher. Standing beside them was another, much younger looking priestess with more normal looking eyes. The irises were still a brilliant jade green but the whites of her eyes were normal and she had pupils which made her look less like a living statue. She was barefoot and wearing a simple white robe. Dark blonde hair, streaked with jade green, fell straight to the small of her back.

  “Uh, who are you?” Sophia asked.

  “And why do people keep popping up out of this damn desert?” Rast growled. “It’s goddamn unnerving.”

  “I am Lissa, secondary priestess and a sand mover of the first order.” The girl bowed. “Forgive me for startling you, but I heard one of your party was ill and thought you might like a ride to the mountain.”

  “Oh, we’d love a ride.” Sophia nodded eagerly and then looked uncertainly at the priestess who was simply standing there. “Uh, where’s your vehicle?”

  “This is my vehicle.” Lissa raised her hands and the sand around them suddenly firmed and lifted like a cresting wave.

  “What in the seven hells?” Sylvan muttered, nearly losing his balance as the wave of sand started moving forward toward the mountain. He looked at Lissa. “How are you able to do this, Priestess?”

  “Living so near the holy mountain enhances out natural gifts,” the young priestess explained. “I am genetically endowed with my ability and being near the Goddess increases it.”

  “I have heard of such things,” Sylvan murmured. “But I thought they were simply old legends.”

  Lissa laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that Nadiah liked at once. It sounded like small silver bells ringing. “There is more truth in the old legends than most people know, Warrior. You will see.”

  “Speaking of old legends, tell us about the Healing Garden,” Rast said. “Is it true it heals anyone of anything? And how do you get to it?”

  Lissa frowned. “I have been forbidden to speak of such things. And there is no time now, anyway. Look—the mountain approaches.”

  So smoothly did the wave of sand carry them, that it almost did seem as if the holy mountain was approaching them instead of the other way around. Nadiah saw that they were about to enter a high, arching entrance carved into the stone and that they were going much faster than she had at first perceived. She ducked her head reflexively as the sand wave rushed at the side of the mountain, but it set them down gently enough just inside the entry.

  “Here I may not use my power,” Lissa told them. “So we must go on foot. The High Priestess of the Empty Throne has summoned you all to a council in two standard hours time. This will give you time to rest, refresh yourselves, and change into proper attire. Come.”

  Rast didn’t look very happy about the idea of changing into “proper” attire but he kept silent as they all followed the slender form of the young priestess down a series of twisting tunnels into the heart of the mountain.

  Finally they came out of the dark tunnel into an oasis of light.

  All of them blinked, trying to adjust to the brilliant sunshine after the gloom. Nadiah’s eyes watered fiercely at the sudden change. They adjusted quickly, however, and when she looked around, she saw that the place Lissa had brought them really did look like an oasis.

  They appeared to be in a sort of hollow crater in the side of the mountain which hadn’t been visible to them from outside the sacred spot. There was a rippling blue-green pool in the center of the space edged all around with rainbow sand which stretched several yards in all directions. A grove of slender grey-green trees with pale lavender-grey leaves surrounded the sand. White material had been hung from their branches and it flapped and fluttered in the soft breeze. At one end of the little pool, someone had laid out a wooden table with food and drink on a white cloth.

  “Rest and take sustenance,” Lissa said, smiling graciously. “Bathe yourselves in the purifying waters and dress in the garments which have been provided for you.” She pointed at the white material hanging from the trees. “I will return at the appointed hour to bring you to the temple of the Empty Throne.”

  “Hey, don’t go,” Rast said when she started to leave. “We have questions—a hell of a lot of questions.”

  “All will be answered at the council.” Lissa smiled again and nodded. “Goodbye—for the moment.”

  And before Rast could protest further, she’d somehow melted into the surrounding hedge of trees and left them to their own devices.

  There was nothing to do but follow the priestess’s orders. Nadia didn’t mind so much. She and Sophia took a quick bath in the cool waters of the pool while Sylvan and Rast kept their backs turned. At the silky, healing touch of the sacred water, Nadiah found herself refreshed and much more clearheaded. Finally, the last cobwebs of the fever were swept away and she began to understand what had happened.

  “The High Priestess of the Empty Throne—she’s the one who caused me to have the al’lei, isn’t she?” she asked Sophia softly as they splashed in the water.

  Sophia nodded. “I think so, hon. That’s what she claimed.”

  “And she also made me sick.” Nadiah could still feel the sickness inside her—like a hand closed tight. But soon the fingers would open, releasing the fever once more.

  “In order to bring Rast here, yes.” Sophia nodded again. “She said he could, uh, heal you.”

  “But how?” They were out of the water now and drying off, keeping their backs to the pool so the males could bathe in privacy. “How can he heal me?”

  “I don’t know, Nadiah,” Sophia confessed. Her green eyes