The outline of her silver-trimmed mask suggested a skull. The domed temple was taller than the surrounding buildings. The arched entryway made those who passed through look like children. Bits of metal had been mixed into the mortar between the stones, causing them to sparkle in the sunlight. ‘‘He stole that from me,’’ Autumnstar muttered. A marble path inside descended to a blazing fire in the middle of the building. Black smoke rose from the top of the temple, the deathpath of whoever’s funeral they celebrated today. The smoke was said to guide the soul to the star of Noc. ‘‘My star,’’ Autumnstar muttered. He had stood outside since before the ceremony, watching, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he turned to the priestess. ‘‘The masks are a bit much, don’t you think?’’ ‘‘My mask?’’ She touched one bony cheek. ‘‘Robes the color of blood. Skull masks.’’ Upon closer inspection, the masks appeared to be painted clay.
