Haunted by Hazel Hunter Page A

we’re on the other side of the universe.”
    It was true. Though Gillian had always known that the dragon’s eye seeds would be the bridge to reach Tenebris, she’d had no idea what kind of bridge. She’d never imagined a starry, reality-bending journey that had left her and Shayne breathless, then unconscious. In a strange way it felt as though they’d gone beyond the bounds of reality, and yet stepped inside a hidden dimension that had been there all along.
    “The Hollow City,” she said, the words finally ringing true.
    “Hollow or not,” Shayne said, nodding at the gates, “it looks solid enough.”
    Though worn down by millennia, the entrance to the city had clearly once been grand. Two enormous, fluted columns rose to either side of a wide thoroughfare strewn with rubble. Hand-in-hand, she and Shayne approached. The pillars were carved from a delicately pink stone, veined with what looked like gold.
    “Was this once an arch?” Shayne wondered, gazing at the chunks of stone in front of them.
    “Is that a statue?” Gillian asked.
    She pointed, dead ahead. Low courses of footings and the short bases of building foundations were everywhere. A few remnants of low walls stood, here and there. Shoots of verdant grass and brightly flowered weeds dotted the tumbled landscape. Beyond the ruins lay a desolate and brown, parched plain. But in the midst of it all, the white statue was like a beacon.
    “Not another statue,” Shayne muttered.
    Gillian grimaced. He was right. The statue with her face in the Midnight Market had given her a vision of being stabbed to death that had left her reeling. In the tunnel of Göreme where she and Mathias had hallucinated––and he had tried to kill her––there’d been a colossal statue submerged in the underground lake. So far their experience with statues left something to be desired.
    But at the thought of Mathias, her chest constricted, and she came to a stop. He’d stayed behind in Göreme, battling their attackers, trying to protect them as they escaped. But it wasn’t just worry that sickened her. It felt wrong for the three of them not to be together, to be doing this without him.
    “Do you think he’s all right?” she whispered.
    Shayne seemed to understand her train of thought.
    “Let’s just say I pity the Templars who get in his way,” he said.
    Though the words were encouraging, Gillian saw the worry in Shayne’s eyes.
    As they picked their way around fallen blocks of stone and made their way to the sculpture, Gillian was a little relieved to see it wasn’t her. Instead it was a man who stood straight and tall, head erect, eyes searching the distance, a powerful hand on the sword at his side. It reminded her of a Greek or Roman figure. The man, who wore a toga, was well-muscled and powerful, perhaps some type of soldier. But as she gazed up, she found herself drawn to his face. Despite the fixed gaze, she cocked her head at the line of his jaw. Then she recognized the nose, and finally the lips.
    Shayne cursed, low and angry. His shoulders tensed as though he’d throw a fireball.
    “I’m sick of statues,” he said.
    It was a sculpture of Shayne. Though the ancient dress and weapons had thrown her off at first, there was no doubt.
    Without a warning, Shayne raised his hand and shot a bright bolt of fire at the statue. Gillian cried out, and clapped a hand over her mouth. The fire crackled and sizzled against the stone for several seconds before Shayne stopped. Though there was a blackened layer of soot over it, the sculpture was unharmed.
    “So it’s real stone at least,” Shayne growled. “Not an illusion.”
    Gillian took his hand gently, almost nervously. “No, not an illusion.”
    As though someone might have seen them misbehaving, Gillian glanced back to the gate. But what she saw there froze her heart.
    “Mina?” she whispered.
    Shayne spun, hands ready. “Where?”
    “At the gate,” she said lowly, staring at her.
    Mina was draped