Even in winter, the grotto was beautiful. As the first light dispelled the shadows," Tris looked out over the unbroken snow. He had seen the grotto in its full glory, when the blossoms of summer tumbled in profusion and the huge trees were dark green with leaves. Now, there was a stark beauty in the tall bare trees that lined the approach, their gray branches arching overhead. In the summer, the gardens that were sacred to the Childe were filled with colorful flowers and bushes, and flocks of white doves perched in the branches of the trees.
The approach ended in a deep ravine cut between two hills, lined with slate. In the spring, the bushes that covered the hills would be ablaze with color, but now, ice traced the tips of the tangled branches, glistening in the morning light. To the left, four white carved columns made a semicircle around an intricately decorated fountain, while to the right, cold water flowed beneath a skin of ice down a waterfall into one of the many brooks and ponds that decorated the gardens. Water was as sacred to the Mother as flowers were to the Childe. In the spring, worshippers would come to cast petals into the flowing water as petitions to the Goddess and to fly brightly decorated kites with tails made of shredded ribbon that stood for prayers for the departed. Now, the grotto was silent.
Tris took Kiara's hand as they stepped out of the carriage. His boots crunched on the snow as they made their way toward the temple of the Lady. Every betrothed couple in Margolan made an offering before taking their vows, although few made the pilgrimage to the Lady's temple. They were more likely to bring their offerings to the small shrines that dotted the roadsides or to a household altar. The king's options weren't so simple.
Deceptively thin white marble arches soared skyward, their peaks creating a jagged silhouette against the pale pink sunrise. On either side of the entrance stood two larger-than-life alabaster statues: one to the Mother and one to the Childe. Underneath the arches, water cascaded down shoulder-high marble walls; in the bitter cold, Tris could detect the hint of magic that kept the water flowing smoothly. Through the double archway was an outer chamber where the guards would wait. As they stepped through the archway the temperature warmed, and again Tris sensed the magic that served the temple, though the Lady's acolytes were out of sight. They set aside their heavy cloaks. Banks of candles lit the inner room. The soft sound of flowing water filled the room, from a large central fountain that sent its waters down eight sloping marble levels and into a clear main pool.