Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) (8 page)

Her words cut into him.

She paused and exhaled. “Did you get what you wanted?”

He had lost everything to gain so little. He’d always believed killing Sarian would bring back his humanity. Instead it had torn him further away.

He didn’t remember choosing to change. The beast clawed out of him with such strength, he was stripped of any right to make a decision. He strained to remember his time as a beast, but the memories were fogged and unclear. One thing stood out: the deep, carnal need to tear through the man responsible for leading his mother to her death. His father might have killed her, but Sarian was the cause. As a beast, that desire had overpowered him.

Drina returned to pounding the herbs. “No matter. Is too late to t’ink on it. Important now is t’e guardian. She is hurt. It took strong magic—more t’an I was ready to make—but the link between her and her stone is alive. As is she. But it will still take time for her to heal.” Panting, she stopped grinding the herbs, and her wrinkled hand trembled. “But she is ill. Not healing.” Drina poured a steaming mixture over the herbs, then crushed it into a thick paste. Her rickety bones creaked as she stood.

Arwan nearly reached out to help her, but the old woman was too prideful for that. She would have swatted him away, or worse.

Drina hobbled to his side, scooped a clump of the mixture onto her fingers, and smeared it across his chest and over the gash on his cheek. It smelled horrible, but he didn’t dare pull away. “Cuts will heal faster wit’ salve.” Drina turned, pressed the back of her hand against Zanya’s forehead, and frowned.

Arwan grunted as he forced himself to his feet. He walked to Drina’s side and crouched beside her. All of the color was drained from Zanya’s cheeks. How could he have let this happen?

Drina’s lips were still puckered, and the tension in her shoulders made it obvious she was unsettled.

“Will she be all right?”

Drina applied a new coat of salve over the wound in Zanya’s side. “Yes, I t’ink so. But t’ere was dark magic used here. It weakened her powers. Somet’ing was used t’at belongs to her. Somet’ing personal.”

Arwan dropped his head. He still blamed himself for not seeing it sooner. “Her hair. Contessa took it in Moscow when we went to her for help to find Sarian.” He clenched his jaw. “I never should have let her give it to that witch, but it was what Contessa wanted in exchange.”

“Yes. Hair would be very good for a spell.” She twisted a cloth full of water over a terra-cotta pot and gently patted it over Zanya’s forehead.

A heavy silence filled the air.

She dropped the cloth back into the bowl and continued to mix the salve unnecessarily. It was clear Drina was holding something back. She glanced up at him every chance she had, probably hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He pretended not to. Drina was a rough woman. She had been alive far longer than her natural lifecycle would have allowed. If not for the blessings set over her by the village elders and the favor of the gods, she would have been gone and in the earth years ago. Still, all of her wisdom hadn’t helped her in having a soft tongue.

So he would allow her to pound the herbs in silence.

The crackling of the fire mixed with the familiar jungle sounds soothed him. Arwan had spent so much time in the bush, it was like a second home. He drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and centered his mind while he examined Zanya’s face, peaceful and content as she slept near the flames.

Life hadn’t always been this complicated. There was a time when things were simple. A time he didn’t know where he came from or what he really was. He hadn’t always sensed the beast within him. It only began to claw its way out when he came of age, and the solstice first conjured it to life. So many changes had occurred at the same time. He filled out that year and became stronger. His mother hadn’t been alive to see how many changes had occurred at the same time. He became stronger and adopted martial arts as a hobby—to keep the effects of his dark side under control. The sport gave him something to focus on and something to do with his days other than pacing his room or running over the paths between villages.

A grin tugged at his lips.

As a boy, he was not above making mischief. Perhaps the fates had planned for him to join the other boys that day in throwing rocks at Drina’s hut. She was, after all, a high priestess—a person the villagers both admired and feared.

Back then she had been much more nimble and quick on her feet. When she’d charged out of her hut, waving her fist in the air, the other boys ran. She locked eyes with Arwan, and her expression of anger melted away. He still recalled how her fist slowly relaxed and her arm dropped to her side. She recognized him, knew who he was, and loved him in spite of that.

“Cualli told me what happened.” Drina’s voice tore him out of his thoughts. “She called for me, knowing you would need someone.” She set the stone bowl on the ground beside her. Her hands were stained dark brown from the mixture, much like the henna used to mark new Maya brides before they were given away. She traced the rim of the bowl with her wrinkled fingers. “Your love for t’e guardian has made you to do bold t’ings. Be brave. Face fears you have hidden away for many years.”

He couldn’t meet Drina’s gaze out of his own humiliation.

“But you have loved selflessly.”

She provided him little comfort. Nothing he could do would prove he was not a beast in his heart, where men built their destiny and chose who they would become.

Now he saw the knowledge in Renato’s words.
You choose who you are, and the choice is yours alone.

He finally met Drina’s warm gaze. “She does not know, Arwan.”

“What?”

“She woke while you were sleeping, and her first words were of you. She was worried. T’ought you were dead. Cried when she saw you.”

He took Zanya’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Her skin was warm, and although she was asleep, her fingers curled and held his hand in return.

“Should I tell her?” He hoped for Drina’s guidance. Instead she grabbed the bowl and returned to mixing the herbs.

To tell Zanya the truth would sever any chance of her seeing him the same way again. But not telling her could have the same consequences. She had already been hurt, and he swore he would not compromise her heart a second time.

Chapter Ten

Zanya

The whisper of soft voices woke Zanya from her sleep. She immediately groped for her stone in her pocket. Curling her fingers around its smooth surface, she exhaled, clinging to it with everything she had.

She smiled when the stone’s tether tugged at her. It had missed her.

Plumes of smoke rose from the fire pit beside her. It must have been burning all night, but now the morning sun provided warmth and light. She sat up and looked at Arwan, who was speaking to an older woman just yards away.

They didn’t notice she had woken up. Funny, Arwan was always observant. Now he looked so wrapped up in conversation that he’d forgotten about the world.

The woman beside him plucked leaves from a plant and replied to his whispers with a sober nod. It might be a good idea to let them know she’d woken up, but she didn’t want to disturb them. The old woman had been so kind, and if Arwan trusted her, Zanya would do the same.

Besides, she had her own reasons to be thankful for the woman’s kindness. She’d given Zanya water and stopped the bleeding from her wound with her herbal remedies. Zanya recalled drifting in and out of consciousness while the woman used several methods to bring her back to awareness. It all seemed like a dream now, though it had been very real.

The underworld was real. Contessa was real. The beast that had stolen Sarian’s head—that was terrifyingly real.

And Jayden…

The anticipation of returning to Moscow was already too much to bear. Whether or not Contessa had returned Jayden’s soul to the middleworld was still unclear. The only way to know for sure was to seek him.

Zanya cradled her stone to her chest and closed her eyes, drawing in deep, cleansing breaths. A sharp pain arched in her side, and made a mental note not to breathe in quite so deep next time.

As she focused on her powers, flashes of light beat like butterfly wings behind her eyelids. First there was darkness and static, followed by the sound of muffled breaths. Not her breaths, but someone else’s. Jayden’s maybe. But she couldn’t see anything. Maybe his spirit was still trapped in Houn’s possession.

Though if that were the case, she wouldn’t be able to seek him. He had to be somewhere in the middleworld.

Suddenly, there was light. Zanya closed her eyes harder. A deep chill froze her to the bone. She shivered, holding the fuzzy image until she identified what was looming above him.

It was a big spotlight. She shivered again.

Someone groaned. “Fuck.”

Zanya sucked in a breath at the sound of Jayden’s voice—cursing, of course. She held the vision, experiencing his every sensation. This wasn’t like the seeking she’d done before. This was more personal, as though she was experiencing everything with him.

Jayden rolled over and fell off the cold surface onto an even colder floor. The vision streaked in a haze of panic, and the breath was knocked out of her lungs. “What the hell…” Jayden rolled onto his back and cradled his ribs.

“Try to stay calm, Jayden.” Renato was there. She recognized his voice immediately.

Zanya peered through Jayden’s foggy vision. He blinked at the fuzzy image of Renato, who stood on the far side of the room.

Zanya’s heart ached at the sight of his lean frame and dark hair.

When Jayden’s focus finally centered, he scanned the contents of the room. Sleek counters with medical supplies organized on trays. A row of silver beds with hoses and drains in the floor. An industrial light fixed to the ceiling.

Was he in a…morgue?

“What. The. Fuck.” Jayden shifted, still freezing cold.

“I understand you may be in shock.” Renato kept his distance. “Perhaps it’s better if you do not move. I am not entirely sure what changes have occurred, if any.”

“Changes?” Zanya strained to keep a hold on Jayden. She couldn’t lose him again, even for just a moment. Not when he was just waking from his ordeal and was clearly confused.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Jayden’s voice drew her back to him, and her grip on the vision grew stronger. Jayden stared at a string tied around his toe with a tag dangling off the end. His muscles ached—as did hers. “What the hell’s going on?”

“You are very lucky to be back.” Renato shook his head, his eyes wide and fixed on him. “I had my doubts, but—” He extended his hand toward Jayden, as if offering proof. “You are very much alive.”

“Then why was I just lying on a fucking steel bed?” Jayden scowled at his foot. “And why the hell is there a tag on my toe?” He tore it off and tossed it aside.

“Peter is on his way. He should be able to heal the rest of your wounds, but…” Renato continued to shake his head, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

Jayden gathered the sheet in his hand and shifted his bare butt along the cold tile floor. He gripped the side of a steel examination bed and slowly pulled himself to his feet.

His legs wobbled and he groaned, his muscles raw like he’d been beaten with a bat.

Jayden smacked his lips. Thirst tore through Zanya. Her throat tightened and every cell cried out for water.

She had never been so thirsty.

Her vision shifted as Jayden stumbled to a sink. He turned it on, tilted his head under the running water, and drank as fast as he could.

Zanya felt the cool water slide down her throat.

Water dripped over Jayden’s lips and down his chin, and he drank until his stomach couldn’t hold any more.

When he had his fill, he stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and turned off the faucet. Silence filled the room.

He leaned on the counter. “When will Peter be here?” When Renato didn’t respond, Jayden ground his teeth. “Fine. I’ll seek him myself.”

Scalding pain sliced through Zanya’s mind, throwing her back into her own surroundings.

She held her head as her vision continued to be assaulted by light. But this time it was sunlight. The light turned from a painful glare to warm rays, kissing her cheeks. Tree branches swayed above her in the distant breeze.

Jayden was back in the middle world, safe with Renato and Peter looking after him. Even if she didn’t have the energy to seek him for a while, at least she didn’t have to worry.

Zanya inhaled the fresh jungle air, which carried the scent of rain and warm earth. It was a welcome change from the bitter stench of the underworld.

“She lives.” The old woman’s voice was both soft and playful.

Zanya opened her eyes to the woman’s wrinkled face. She offered a smile. “Yep. I live.”

The woman lifted Zanya’s shirt just enough to the see the dried salve packed over the wound. She nodded and smiled softly. “Almost healed. You are very lucky to be alive.”

Zanya swallowed as she recalled the instant rush of panic when Sarian had driven a knife into her gut. She’d had no way for her to fight back or run, not without her abilities or control over her stone. She’d been so helpless, and here in the middleworld, she had to deal with the physical repercussions.

The woman tugged the shirt back over her belly. “Stay here. Rest.”

She stood and hobbled toward Arwan.

He was really here. Alive. Zanya bit her lip as he walked to her, and couldn’t help but reach out to him. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as she could. He hugged her back, and it had never felt so good.

“I thought you were gone. I thought you didn’t make it through the gate. I couldn’t find you there, and with all of the blood and the—” She pulled away from him. He didn’t know. “Sarian. He’s dead. I saw it happen. Some kind of animal from the underworld must have smelled all the blood, and it just—” She was still a little unsure if it was really true.

Sarian had crept into her dreams her entire life, making every night a living hell and every day a reminder she’d eventually slip back into the horror of sleep. She had a difficult time wrapping her mind around the fact was gone. It was over, and he’d never hurt her again.

“It just…tore him apart.”

The old woman stood with her back to them, her hunched figure lingering near bundles of wood and bushels of plants sorted into piles.

Arwan glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Drina. I’ve known her for a long time. She’s like my aunt.”

“Really?” Zanya stole another glance at the woman. “Did you call her here?”

“No. Cualli did.”

“Cualli? Is she here?”

“I don’t know. Drina hasn’t said much about it, and I haven’t asked. She tends to have reasons why she doesn’t elaborate on these things. I figured it’s better to stay patient.”

Patience was never her best quality.

“Hey.” Arwan’s voice brought her focus back to the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. Her lips parted as heat spread through her belly. Her cheeks flushed.
Damn this winter solstice thing.

“Come on.” He took her hand and led her toward the woman. “I’ll introduce you. Then you’ll have to take her advice and get some rest or both of us will be in trouble.” He smirked and escorted her a few yards to where Drina plucked at bundles of herbs.

“Drina, this is Zanya, the guardian. Zanya, this is Tia Drina. She’s a village elder from back home. One of the last.”

The woman slowly straightened her posture, and the light in her eyes nearly took Zanya’s breath away. She had an aura of magic about her that seemed to come directly from her soul. “I know you two have already met, but I thought it would be better to have a formal introduction.”

Zanya cleared her throat. “I…” She paused, drawing a blank. “Thanks, for helping me—us.” Damn it. Of course she’d make a stuttering idiot of herself.

Drina extended her hand. Cualli’s pendant rested in her palm. “T’is belongs to you.”

The wicker symbol was strung on a new chain made of leather string. She took it from the woman’s hand and cradled the emblem against her chest. “Thank you. Thank you for fixing it.”

“A gift from Cualli—you must be very special.” She glanced at Arwan. “Very special indeed.”

Zanya couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t thought about it like that, but getting a gift from a goddess
was
pretty badass. She tied the emblem back around her neck. She’d thought it was lost forever when Sarian had torn it off her neck before Contessa—

Her features sobered when she recalled what the witch had done. “So, um.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry to be a buzzkill, but we have a problem.”

Drina glanced at Arwan with worried eyes.

“Contessa set us up. What happened in the underworld was her plan from the beginning. She wanted revenge on Sarian and showed up to make sure he got what was coming to him. But she promised she’d return Jayden to the middleworld, and she did.”

“How do you know?” Arwan said.

Zanya bit her bottom lip. “I kind of sought him.”

“You shouldn’t be seeking right now. You need to rest.”

“I know. I know. I just couldn’t lie there wondering. I had to do something.”

“For now let’s stick to using the phone, okay?” Arwan walked to his pack and pulled out the satellite phone, then put it in her hand. “Deal?”

She nodded. “Deal. Speaking of, I’m sure Renato is worried about us. I should call him and let him know we’re okay.”

“Good idea. I’ll pack our stuff.”

She opened the contact list and scrolled down until the selector hovered over Renato’s name. After a moment of consideration, she clicked on Tara’s name below it.

Tara would be totally pissed at her, but Zanya owed it to her to call her first. It rang three times before Tara answered. “Hello?” Static clouded the line. “Hello?”

“Tara!” Zanya’s heart swelled. Hearing her voice was like slipping on a pair of comfortable old jeans. “Tara, can you hear me?”

“Hello?”

She pressed the phone harder against her ear, as if that would help the static go away. “Tara, it’s me.”

There was nothing but static until her voice broke through. “Zanya?” Her tone was hesitant.

“Yeah, it’s me. Is Jayden there? Is he okay?”

Zanya waited for her reply, but she could hardly hear Tara. She smacked the earpiece against her open palm. “Damn it. Stupid phone.” The satellite icon indicated it was searching for a better signal. She held it up in the air, but that didn’t help, so she returned it to her ear. So much for satellite phones having a signal everywhere. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but Jayden is back. Check if he’s okay. Can you do that?”

Tara’s voice was like mere whisper in the distance. “Zanya, I can barely hear you. Where are you?”

Ugh. Zanya raised her voice even louder to break through the white noise. “We did it. We’re coming home, Tara. I’m coming home.”

The phone bleeped and then went silent. A
signal lost
notice blinked on the screen. She exhaled and dropped her arm to her side, the phone clenched in her fist. They had to get moving—get back to Moscow and make sure Jayden was all right. That meant gathering their stuff, hiking out of the jungle, and grabbing another bus from the village back to civilization.