Beneath the Hallowed Hill by Theresa Crater Read Free Book Online

first stone, as if she penetrated a thin membrane that closed itself behind her. They went through the ponderous oak doors, and there was a slight pop in the air as the group moved through the second layer of energy surrounding the temple.
    The initiates proceeded down a hallway lined with stained glass windows alive in the morning light. The first depicted Atlas, the axis of the universe, the Titan founder of their land. The window directly across from it showed the arrival of Pleione, whom her mother was named after, sailing across the heavens to mate with him. Next came the birth of their seven daughters, then the division of the land into the ten realms, and finally the gift of the Sacred Stone from the dragon Makara—all the central stories of the founding of Atlantis.
    The hallway opened into a circular room with adobe walls and onionskin marble columns. The ceiling flung the room up into the sky, soaring away in a triumph of selenite and thin metal beams. A low bench ran the entire circumference of the room, as if to attach it to the earth so it would not float away. The blue tiled floor added the color of the ocean, but showed no design, and a single flame burned in the brass brazier in the very center.
    The acolyte paused just a few steps inside the circle, but before the group could move to sit, an older priestess stepped out from behind one of the columns, her violet-tinged aura clearly visible around her. The first initiate was led to her, a question was whispered, and he disappeared through a doorway into the darkness from which she had come. After about fifteen minutes, another initiate repeated the ceremony. The group settled on the benches and waited in tense silence. Finally, the acolyte nodded at Erythe, who squeezed Megan’s hand before she walked to the priestess. She answered her murmured question and disappeared without so much as a glance back. At last, the acolyte nodded at Megan.
    Her mouth was dry. She swallowed and stood up. Why did she feel like she was stepping off a precipice to dive from a high cliff into the black depths of churning waters? This was Atlantis. She a well-loved daughter of gifted people, destined to take her place with them, to serve and grow into full consciousness as her body matured. Before she could rebalance herself, the priestess was leaning toward her. “What do you seek?” The sonorous tones of the woman’s voice tightened the knot in Megan’s throat.
    What did she seek? Confirmation of what she already knew, that she would go to the Healing Temple and learn with Pleione, that she would take her place one day as High Priestess, that she would live long and ascend to the stars. Instead she whispered the ritualized response, “To ask the oracle for guidance.”
    This seemed sufficient, for the priestess nodded and with a slight gesture of her right hand sent Megan into the darkness behind the pillar. Megan had to push slightly to move through the invisible shield of energy; it was like crowning at birth, but she was delivered into darkness instead of light. The floor slanted downward at a gentle angle. Megan put out her hand to steady herself against the stone wall, smooth and cool to the touch. The solidity of the earth reassured her somehow. The tunnel curved to the left and the angle of descent grew steeper. The darkness deepened.
    Megan made her slow and steady way down, but at the next curve, the darkness swallowed everything. The weight of the earth threatened to smother her. She stopped and groped around with her hand, but felt only the wall beside her. What if she took a wrong turn? What if the Earth shook as it had in the past and she was buried alive here, her life cut off before it could flower? What if she was found unworthy of the temple and sent to a simple shop in an anonymous town somewhere? Everyone’s place was important, she reminded herself, or at least so she was told. Megan forced herself to take a deep breath, then a second, surprised by these