The Scrying (The Scrying Trilogy Book 1)

by Jaci Miller

  “There is much you need to learn about our past Dane,” he said understanding her frustration. “There is also much we need to understand with respect to the prophecy and how it relates to the future. I, unfortunately, do not have all the answers. The prophecy came to us during the Great War when most of the races were immersed in battle with the ancient dark. We had heard that the Druid seers had succumbed to visions of the future, distant lands, and individuals not yet born but the story changed depending on who did the telling and to whom they were speaking. As the war raged on there were different versions of the prophecy that found their way through our lands. If there is a singular prophecy, its truth will be recorded in the Book of Realms. The Druids would have documented their visions in its pages. Any information that will help guide you and the other Arcanists will be in that book. If the prophecy comes to light the knowledge contained in the Book of Realms could be invaluable.”

  “So, you have seen the Book of Realms. You know where to find it?”

  “I know where it is hidden but no I have never seen it. It has only ever been in the possession of the Guardian of Deities. To my knowledge, no supernatural has ever laid eyes on it other than a very small select group of race elders. The book is extremely powerful which is why it was hidden, waiting for someone of great destiny to wield it.”

  “And let me guess, that person is me—the shadowy one.” She said sarcastically assuming the inscription in the sword referred to the one powerful enough to wield the magic of this sacred tome.

  “I believe so,” he answered slightly confused by the unfamiliar tone of her voice.

  “I was being sarcastic,” she said noting the confusion on his face.

  “I do not understand this sarcastic.”

  “Sarcasm,” she corrected. Confronted with his furrowed brow she contemplated how to explain it in a way that a billion centuries-old warrior would understand. “Mockery? Ridicule?”

  “This I understand, but the fight between good and evil is nothing to mock,” he said casting her a strange look.

  “Sorry,” she replied, realizing the vast differences between her present world and Rafe’s antiquated one.

  He nodded and then gestured toward the sword. “It is yours now, it belongs with you.”

  She turned back to the stunning blade that sat gleaming against the purple velvet backdrop, the vibrating hum once again catching her attention. The sheen of the blade ebbed and swelled under her gaze. She reached out and lowered her hand toward the grip feeling a slight throbbing as she entered the space surrounding it. The sword’s energy flicked and sizzled, her hand tingling as she gripped the handle, lifting the blade from its resting place. The sword was surprisingly light for its size, the grip fitting perfectly in her palm, and the length seemed just right for her height. It was if the blade were made specifically for her.

  Turning toward Rafe, she noted the slight smile that had appeared on his face.

  “What?” She asked holding the blade at a forty-five-degree angle in front of her.

  “It recognizes a Callathian,” he answered, nodding toward the sword. “It has morphed its form to fit you.”

  She looked again at the sword. Watching as a green light pulsed from the top of the pommel to the tip of the blade, continuing to ebb and flow over the swords length for a few more seconds before disappearing.

  He walked toward her with his hand outstretched. “Hand me the sword.”

  Dropping the tip of the blade toward the ground she flipped the sword in her hand, clutching the blade below the guard, the handle now facing him. He grabbed the hilt and immediately dropped the sword to the ground, clutching his hand in pain. Rushing to his side, she inspected his hand—a festering raw scar ran across the inside of his palm.

  “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” he responded grimacing slightly. “I will be fine in a moment.”

  She held his hand gently, watching as the garish redness of the burn slowly faded and the puss filled skin returned to a healthy normal.

  “What was that all about?” She inquired when his hand no longer showed any signs of the burn.

  “The sword has become one with your energy. Only you can wield it. It is your weapon now and yours alone. Callathian blades are unique that way, the magic embedded in their steel responds only to the Callathian bloodlines magical energy. Anyone else who touches the metal is quickly rejected.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call burning your hand being rejected!”

  “That was nothing, it knows I am Warlician, if I was not, the damage would have been far worse.”

  He walked to the stone slab and retrieved the sword’s sheath that still lay on the plush velvet. Handing the black leather casing to her, she tied it around her waist. The thick leather hung perfectly down her side, and she was amazed at the beautiful detailing that decorated its length. The body of the sheath was adorned with small braided straps each end clasped to the next with a silver metal band. A large metal pentacle was attached to the outer side of the casing about two inches from the top. Just below, burnt into the supple leather was the outline of her family’s crest. The bottom of the sheath was covered with a solid metal tip, its surface delicately carved with more Celtic knotwork.

  She picked the sword from the ground where Rafe had dropped it, sliding it comfortably into the casing, surprised at how familiar it felt hanging at her side. Motioning for her to follow, they left the small room and headed across the open space toward the simple wooden door.

  He slowed as he reached the faded wood, his body slumping slightly as he turned to look at her.

  She could see a deep sadness in his eyes, which had her wondering what was behind this door.

  “There is something you must understand before we enter,” he said, his demeanor suddenly changing as he tried to explain. “A few of the remaining Warlician warriors were caught in different realms during stasis, trapped as the portals shut and the magic decreased. Some were wounded and most likely perished, but others may still be in dormancy waiting until the realms magic can awaken them. I tell you this because, although I am supposed to be here on Dywen alone, I am not.”

  He opened the door to reveal another small room but this time, instead of a stone slab and a sword, she saw a glass coffin containing a female.

  Glancing back to Rafe, she noticed his eyes were locked on the female in the coffin, a hint of sadness swirling around him.

  “Who is she?”

  He entered the small room without answering, placing his hand affectionately on the coffin’s clear top. He paused briefly, his deep sadness filling the small space. “She is my sister.”

  She moved in beside him gazing down at the girl in the glass coffin. Her face was peaceful but pale. A smattering of freckles noticeable across the bridge of her nose. Long, black hair lay in soft curls around her face and like her brother she was dressed head to toe in black. The long sleeves of her shirt were slightly tattered at the cuffs, her leather vest was worn and tied up the middle with a fine braided cord. Thick leggings were tucked into knee-high leather boots and a leather and metal belt wrapped multiple times around her waist. She had a small moon-shaped tattoo on her neck and wore a thick silver ring, an insignia engraved on its face.

  Inside the coffin, laying to her left was a bow and a large knife, both of which she assumed, were her weapons.

  She looked so young that it made it difficult for Dane to picture her in combat. As she continued to stand silently beside him something dawned on her. “I didn’t think there were any other female Warlicians.”

  “There is not, you are the only one. My sister is not a Warlician—she is just head-strong and does not do as she is told.”

  She noticed a faint smile cross his lips as he affectionately described his sister. A slight twinge of sadness tugged at her heart. “I’m so
rry.”

  “Sorry for what?” He asked meeting her gaze, his green eyes locking onto hers with a sudden intensity.

  “For the loss of your sister,” she stammered, her body reacting again to the way he looked at her.

  He laughed suddenly, startling her. She looked at him with a confused frown as he continued to fill the small room with his snickering.

  “I am sorry Dane, I did not explain properly before I showed you this room. My sister, Tauria, is not dead. She is in stasis similar to this realm. Unlike me, she cannot stay vigilant in this world, she does not possess that kind of power, nor does she belong here anymore. Therefore, her body cannot function the way it would if our realm’s magic was at its strength. As our world fell into dormancy so did my sister, it’s her magic’s way of protecting her.”

  “So, she will wake up?” She asked somewhat relieved to know that his sister wasn’t dead.

  “She will,” he said softly. “But not until the magic of Dywen is re-energized and even then, it will take some time.”

  She hesitated before asking her next question as she did not want to seem like she was prying. “If she is not meant to be here then, why is she?”

  A scowl crossed his features. “Tauria is willful and does not listen to what she is told. Both my father and brother were Warlician warriors and my mother a powerful healer. My father had always thought it best that the women in our family know how to fight, and both my sister and mother were very skilled in combat. When the Great War started many of our race were called upon to battle, fighting alongside the Warlician warriors. Our father and mother were killed in the Great War, our brother along with them.”

  He stopped for a moment, shoulders sagging under the memory of all the war had cost him. “I was all that Tauria had left and when I was tasked with staying on Dywen and guarding the book, it meant that she had to go with the other remaining survivors to the new world—your earth. She was not happy about my decision, but she reluctantly went with the final group—or so I thought. It was not until all the portals had closed did I discover that she had remained here on Dywen.”

  He turned to look at her, his eyes full of conflicting emotions. “My sister is stubborn and defiant, but she is all that I have left. I could not stay angry at her for long as we did not have much time before her life-force would recede into dormancy along with our world. I quickly retrieved a preservation chamber from our healing center and transported it here so that she would be safe until the prophecy came to pass. It did not take long for Dywen to go into stasis and with it so did Tauria. I placed her in the preservation chamber just days before my life-force and magic began to diminish.”

  She felt his angst as he recalled the final days he had with his sister who now lay silent before them. Absently, she reached out and gently touched his back feeling him tense slightly under her touch.

  “We must go now,” he said his voice stronger and more in control as he gestured toward the open door. As they reached it, he paused briefly to look one last time at his sleeping sister before closing the door tightly behind him.

  She felt a sudden rush of emotion as her heart ached for all that he had gone through, for all that he had lost and still must endure. She could sense a sadness and vulnerability that weighed heavy on his energy.

  Feeling her eyes upon him he turned to look at her, bright green eyes boring deep into her own. A sudden flash of desire sizzled between them, his chest heaved as he tightened his hand on the grip of his sword. Without a word or acknowledging the intensity that had materialized between them Rafe broke their gaze and headed into the shadows of the passage leaving her standing alone in a breathless silence.

  Chapter 24

  After exiting the barracks Rafe led her quickly through the outer sanctum, stopping briefly to retrieve the ‘Essence of Ether’ from its lock box in the armory, before heading directly into the thick forest. The small vial was tucked safely in her coat pocket. She still had no idea why it was important. He had not elaborated only saying it was a purified and blessed liquid from the sacred underground springs on Etheriem, the spirit realm of the celestials.

  “If Sebastian requires it, there must be a good reason.” He responded when she had inquired. Dane had surmised that sharing information did not seem to be a high priority for Warlician warriors.

  As they moved quickly through the forest toward the mountain range in the distance, she listened to the leaves rustling softly as they passed. It was a calm and soothing sound that revitalized her energy as she quickened her pace to keep up. The forest foliage thickened as they moved further away from the city and she could feel an unknown sensation running through her body the deeper they went into the untouched natural beauty of Dywen.

  Rafe moved expertly through the underbrush and she followed as best she could, ducking under low hanging vines, and sidestepping fallen tree branches.

  She heard Farrimore’s cry in the distance and the sound of running water just up ahead where the tree line thinned. Sunlight penetrated the diminishing foliage casting a gentle, golden glow across the forest floor. There was a warm breeze blowing through the trees and she detected a hint of salt in its wisps as it gently caressed her face.

  He disappeared around a large tree and she followed, squinting at the intensity of the bright morning light as she exited the tree line.

  They had emerged from the forest near a small crystal blue lake, its entire circumference surrounded by stones and large flat rocks. At the far end, a small waterfall cascaded down the smooth face of a tall stone ridge, splashing off large boulders and into the lake below in a torrent of foamy spray. The lake seemed shallow, the white sand bottom easily seen through the clear blue water as it glimmered below. The sunlight reflected off the water’s ripples, sending sparkling light dancing across its surface. They were closer to the mountain range and she could see the grey rocky tips peeking majestically over the green canopy of the forest.

  The smell of salt was stronger here, its tangy scent engaging her nose. Crouching at the water’s edge, she submerged her hand, feeling the wet coolness on her fingertips. Scooping the water into her palm she lifted it to her nose—salt water—she thought her eyes scanning the shining surface. That must be the reason for the pure white bottom.

  “It is, what you would call an anomaly,” Rafe said, his voice suddenly behind her. “A salted lake. All the bodies of water across the Thanissia Universe are freshwater except for this one. The lake bed produces the salt through a seeping process. The waterfall is fed by an underground cavern that connects to this lake, so it too is salted. This lake was very sacred to our people as it has undeniable healing powers and provides Dywen with an important magical element that cannot be found anywhere else in the universe. As I’m sure you know, salt has powerful protective qualities which made this lake integral to our people’s magic.”

  She nodded, as she did understand how essential salt was too magic. It was still very much a part of modern protection spells, in addition to purification and blessing rituals. She drew her hand once more through the cool liquid, intrigued even more by this body of water because of its uniqueness and haunting beauty.

  “Dane, we must continue if we are to get to the bottom of the mountain by nightfall,” he said pointing to the largest of the mountains that rose imposingly in the distance.

  She stood, her gaze following the direction he was pointing. Wiping her wet hands on her jeans she watched him walk off, headed for a small sand path near the far end of the lake. Glancing one last time at the quiet ethereal beauty of the salted lake she picked up her backpack and followed.

  Halfway around the lake, the sand path narrowed as they came upon a wide opening cut into the surrounding vegetation. The opening was flanked on either side by small stone pillars etched with unfamiliar symbols. Small iron cauldrons, containing a flame that burned a soft purple, sat atop each pillar.
She could smell sage and a scent that she did not recognize; an earthy sweet smell with a hint of mint. He must have seen her trying to figure out the odd aroma because he quickly told her it was Balor Root, a rare herb that can only be found in the forests of Dywen and was used in barrier spells. It was this that made the cauldron flames burn purple.

  He dug into the small pouch strapped to his belt and took out a white chalky powder which he carefully threw into each of the flames.

  Suddenly, the flames hissed and turned a deep orange. Grabbing her hand, he quickly dragged her through the pillars and onto the stone path on the other side. Within seconds the flames in each cauldron reverted to their purple tint.

  “What did you do?” She asked as he moved up the path away from her.

  “The powder blocks the barrier spell for a very short time, it is the only way to pass the sacred fires and reach Ardrin Gorm. The entrance has been magically blocked for centuries allowing no one to pass who does not possess the powder,” he explained.

  She shook her head in amazement and frustration—why Sebastian believed her instincts were enough to get her through all the magical traps and safeguards that were clearly still very much active in this realm, was truly baffling.

  Thankfully, she had Rafe.

  He turned toward her as if he had heard her thinking his name, bright green eyes piercing her own and causing her breath to catch in her chest. His tanned skin glistened as small beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. She shifted from one foot to the other as she became increasingly uncomfortable under his penetrating stare. The roar of her blood was deafening as it raced past her ears. She dropped her eyes, trying to avoid his intense gaze but she could still feel his eyes upon her—why was he staring at her?

  Slowly lifting her eyes. she was surprised to see him walking quickly back toward her. He grabbed both her hands and held them in his own, pulling her in closer until she was within inches of him. His perfect jaw clenched as he held her gaze. Startled by the sudden contact she held her breath, tensing slightly, her skin beginning to tingle under his grasp. She could feel his energy mingle with her own, curiously exploring its deepest corners. A slight crackling sputtered in the air around them as he moved in even closer, his lips grazing her cheek and continuing up to her ear.