The Bloodstone Oracle
Copyright 2012 Willow Cross
License Notes
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DedicationFor the fans of The Dark Gifts series. I appreciate each of you so very much!
ForwardThe Bloodstone Oracle is the second short story companion to Birthright (The Dark Gifts series.) If you have not read Afterlife (first in the companion series) please stop reading now and go download it.
The Bloodstone OracleChapter One
The shrill moan of a Penny Whistle wailed in perfect harmony with the ethereal melody of a violin. The woodland clearing teamed with flickering lights as flames from the stone-encased fire ring licked higher into the sky, casting dancing shadows against the trees. In unison, five women surrounding the ring stepped forward. Their hips swayed back and forth in rhythm to the slowly beating drum. Beat by beat, they made their way around the bonfire with cadenced precision as a large cloaked figure chanted. His hands held a small stone that glimmered as he raised it toward the full moon.
As one, the music and chanting grew louder. Inside the stone ring, the blaze intensified and spewed crackling sparks of blue high into the air. Without warning, the musicians ceased their doleful refrain. Gusts of wind whipped through the clearing with tornadic frenzy, sending bits of dust and dry leaves airborne. And as quickly as it had begun it was over. Silence permeated the area.
The cloaked figure sighed and lowered his hands. “It is done. The power resides within.”
Another moment of silence passed before one of the women raised her fist and let out a warbling war cry.
Smiles greeted the faces of the coven and nervous laughter filtered throughout the group.
The eldest of the women placed a hand on the cloaked figure’s arm. “Will it be enough, Damien?”
His broad shoulders sagged ever so slightly as he sighed and made eye contact with the red-haired beauty on the far side of the fire ring. “It must.” Then smiling, he straightened his stance. “Yes. Of course it will, Edana. No matter what befalls the rest of us, Marie will be safe.”
Edana returned his smile and motioned to the small group. “Come, come! All is ready. Regardless of Kiana’s power, the Sardonyx will be useless against the Bloodstone. Our line will not end.”
***
Damien grunted as he gave the copper wire binding the Bloodstone one last turn. “And it’s done.” A satisfied smile spread across his face. “Just one more thing and then you can wear it.” Pulling a long leather cord from his pocket, he laced it through the small loop he’d created at the top of the pendant and tied the two ends together.
Gently placing it over Marie’s head, he lifted her mass of auburn locks, pulling them out and away from the thin strap.
She smiled up at him for just a moment before her expression became serious. “Are you ready?”
He winked and gave a short nod.
Sighing, Marie clasped the pendant hanging from her neck and whispered, “Tabhair Chun.” The words had barely crossed her lips when the Bloodstone flared to life. Bright red, pulsating streams of light surged through the cracks of her fingers. A low hum echoed throughout the woodland clearing, sending small animals scurrying into the brush and quieting insects and birds. Luminescent, crimson tentacles moved about her touching on trees and brush before shooting straight up. As if reaching a glass ceiling, the light stopped 6 feet above her head and refracted down around her, bathing her with a blood-red glow.
The humming grew louder, causing everything in the small clearing to vibrate in perfect synchronicity. Marie’s eyes became dazed and unfocused as she lifted from the ground. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and before Damien could take a step towards her, the light swept into the gaping entrance with such force her body shuddered violently. When the last bit of illumination disappeared, Marie’s limp body dropped to the ground with a thud.
Damien nearly flew the few steps to where she lay. Reaching down to gather her in his arms, he paused midway. Scarlet tendrils zigzagged over her flesh like miniature flashes of lightening for several seconds before dissolving into the visible parts of her skin.
“Darling, wake up,” he enticed.
Her eyelids fluttered a moment before opening. Confusion clouded her face as she spoke. “It is complete?”
Eyes brimming with tears of relief, he answered, “You are safe.”
Marie exhaled loudly. “Then we should go. We have many things to accomplish and little time to do it in.”
Damien gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. “We have a lifetime now. More than enough time to set things to right.”
“If only that were the truth of it.”
“What preys upon your mind, my love? The power has been envoked, you are safe.”
Her swift smile belied the sadness in her eyes. Tenderly extricating herself from his arms, she stood and smoothed her skirt before once again meeting his gaze. “The text was not complete in its telling. The stone offers more than mere safety; it also tenders a glimpse into the future.”
His voice heavy with worry, he asked, “What did you see?”
“The stone protects the wearer, my love. And only as long as it hangs around my neck.”
Damien’s hearty laugh did little to dispel the worry from her face. “Then it is fine. Nothing to fret over.”
Marie’s eyes filled with tears as she placed her small hands over her belly. “It is not fine,” she whispered.
A look of complete understanding washed over his face as a multitude of emotions rushed through him. When the baby came, they would be required to make a choice. The life of their child or the life of its mother.
His head moved from side to side as he spoke. “I can’t. It’s not possible. The decision is...”
She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “The decision has already been made, my love. We must hurry. There is much to do and little time.”
***
The acrid stench of burnt wood and bodies assailed her long before they rounded the winding passage through Cathair Thiar Mountain into the village of Adair. She knew at the onset of the nauseating odor they were once again too late.
Kiana’s minions had ravaged and destroyed yet another conclave of Witches. Glancing at her husband’s grave face, she pulled the scarf around her neck up over her mouth and nose. Maybe this time someone escaped. Surely one person...
Marie jolted as her husband gently placed a hand over hers. Without speaking, his eyes attempted to imbue her with hope. Hope he obviously wasn’t feeling himself.
She nodded and scanned the passing brush for any sign of life. With great luck, maybe someone would see them and come forward.
Just around the curve, the dirt road began to its descent into the valley below. Tufts of smoke still issued from the charred remains of the village. Many of the once thatched roof cottages had burnt completely to the ground. Without warning, Damien pulled back on the reins and brought the horses to a complete halt.
“Why are you stopping?”
Damien, sickened by the sight below, met her gaze with apprehension. “There is no point to this.” He paused as his eyes flicked to her stomach before returning to the devastation below. “We must make haste
to the sea.”
Tears pooled in her eyes as she vigorously shook her head. “If just one, Damien. Just one.”
Nodding resignedly, he cracked the reins and propelled the horses forward. “If you must.”
After what seemed like hours of combing the wreckage of her native village, Marie stood amongst the rubble in complete despair. As predicted, she was the last remaining descendant of her bloodline. Within weeks, Kiana had managed to wipe out her entire family as if the heirs of Abernathe had never existed.
Her eyes moved over the blackened pile of ash that used to be her Grandmother’s home. Memories of fresh baked bread, laughter, and running through the small structure with her numerous cousins flooded her thoughts. As if time had not passed at all, she could still see her Grandmother’s weathered face surrounded by shimmering locks of silver, mischievously grinning as her lilting voice scolded them. “Oye, children. What be ye about when there’s so much work to be done? Off with yerselves before I call on the Faeries to come have yer hapless hides!”
In unison, the entire group would scream and recklessly dash out the front door as she cackled in mirth. The Faeries never had claimed their victims, even after abundant oaths to dispatch them. But each time she’d managed the courage to question her Grandmother about it, the answer had always been the same. “Why child, of course they can’t be bothered with the likes of you. You are an Abernathe Witch. The Fae steer clear of the likes of us. Now git along and take care of yer business before they change their minds.”
Her husband’s tender touch brought her out of her memories of the past and loved ones who were no longer with her. “We must go, my love. This was the last. Your safety and that of our child cannot be secured in this land. We must make way for the New World if we are to survive.”
A quivering over her breast bone startled her. Looking down, she discovered the Bloodstone not only vibrating, but also pulsating with a dim red light. Wrapping her hand around the now warm stone, she was immediately drawn into a vision.
A small dark-haired child with large brown eyes and cherub cheeks sat quietly playing with a doll surrounded by a room full of Vampires. As their dress was very strange, Marie knew it had to be a vision of the future. The young girl didn’t seem remotely frightened by that fact she was being kept by such monstrous creatures. In fact, she seemed quite happy and content. The colors swirled together and grew dark as the scene changed. A withered old woman with scraggly white hair fought against an ancient sorcerer. Shards of magic, light and dark, whizzed back and forth between the two as each struggled to gain access to the young girl. The old Wizard had flowing locks of silver and a beard nearly the length of his hair. Rage consumed him as he bellowed, “You will not have her. Her destiny is set in stone.”
And just as quickly as it had begun, the vision faded and Marie was once again standing in front of her husband.
“What happened? What did you see?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Vampires and a child they protected. A human child. And an old Wizard consumed in battle with an evil Witch.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Our child?”
“No. Not this child, but one that is coming. He said her destiny was set in stone. What could that mean? And why would bloodthirsty Vampires protect a human offspring. It’s not possible!”
Confusion clouded his eyes. “It does not seem feasible; however, we do know that our bloodline is strong. Maybe the child controls them.”
Raising her eyes to meet his concerned gaze, her voice cracked with emotion. “It will never end for our children, Damien. They will be persecuted and sought after for as long as they live.”
Damien brushed the gentle rain of tears from her left cheek. “Not so long as they have the Bloodstone, Darling. We must take to the sea and get her as far away from this land as is humanly possible.”
Marie sniffed and wiped away the last of her tears, for surely her last tear had fallen. She would escape as her family had intended. And she would exact retribution for each and every life which had fallen under Kiana’s brutal hand. Maybe not in this life, but before the end of time, her bloodline would be avenged.
Chapter TwoMarie’s legs seemed incapable of navigating the wooden dock after four months of traveling by sea. Grasping the low railing, she steadied herself while Damien spoke with the dock master. Behind her, the crew of the Dover noisily hustled about the deck unloading cargo and making ready to take on new passengers. The city of Saint Augustine sprawled out in front of her. Narrow streets teemed with wagons, merchants, and citizens hurriedly going about their business. Along the white, sandy beach strange trees and bushes danced in the scorching salt-scented breeze. Breathtaking in its beauty, she had no queries as to why people had designated this spectacular land the New World.
“Are you ready?” Damien asked.
Marie wiped the beading perspiration from her brow and smiled brightly at her husband. “What an unusual land this is. How in the world does one grow accustomed to this climate?”
He winked and taking her arm at the elbow, propelled her down the ramp. “I’m sure it is readily accomplished, my love. However, we will not be staying here long.”
Moving through the bustling streets as quickly as her wobbling gait would allow, they soon arrived at the Fairway Inn. Although the outer appearance of the establishment was clean and quite comely, the open doorway and broad front window allowed a good view of the clientele inside. If their manner of dress was any indication at all, a host of vagabonds and pirates frequented the business.
Damien scanned the entire length of the street.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Somewhere more befitting your condition. This is no place for an expecting mother.”
“Harrumph,” she expelled. “And neither is a busy street for that matter. I cannot imagine a safer place than my husband’s side. Now shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, she moved through the open doorway.
For a moment, the contrast between the brilliant sunlight and darkened room left her blinded. Before her eyes adjusted, she’d already noticed the excruciating silence. It was no surprise, when her sight returned, that all eyes were upon her.
A barrel-chested man behind the bar turned his head to the side and spat on the floor. His voice, thick with Spanish accent, was not remotely welcoming. “Females are not welcome unless she be a bar wench.”
A low rumble of agreement echoed through the bar patrons.
Damien’s eyes flashed with anger, but he managed to remain poised. “My apologies. I seek consult with Randle Lockheart. I was told he is the owner of this fine establishment.”
A toothless old coot, covered head to toe in filth, yelled out from the back of the room, “And ye bring yer woman to parlay? What kind of sissy-footed bonny-clapper are ye?”
Raucous laughter broke out amongst the horde of misfits.
“Enough,” echoed through the room and quieted the revelers.
Marie raised her eyes to the balcony above. The speaker, seemingly as fit and broad as her husband, and dressed in the finest of clothes, looked down on them with consternation. “Mr. Smith, I presume?”
Damien gave him a curt nod.
“Up here if you will,” he said and motioned to the stairway. “That is if the Misses can maneuver appropriately.”
With that, the bar patrons once again broke out with laughter.
Marie’s face turned red as she replied with considerable venom, “Quite assuredly, good Sir.”
As if waiting to see if she would misstep, the room once again grew silent as Marie gathered her skirt and made her way up the short flight of stairs with Damien right behind her. After reaching the top, Lockheart motioned for the couple to enter the first doorway on the right, before leaning over the railing and growling, “Spend your money or get out. This is no tea house.”
***
Randle Lockheart was a very strange man indeed. He had all the expected affectations of someone with mo
ney and power, but at the same time spoke as one who spent countless hours amongst the general population. Marie found him confusing, yet endearing. The moment the door closed behind them, his rough demeanor slipped away and an air of friendly familiarity replaced the gruff, all-business attitude he’d displayed just a few seconds before.
Randle smiled and motioned to a small settee covered in bright blue fabric. “Do sit down, Mrs. Stafford. I’m sure the trek across the Ocean has been most taxing in your condition.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lockheart. Our journey was tolerable, although quite lengthy.”
“Call me Randle. I save Mr. Lockheart for the ruffians and thugs.” Then turning to her husband, he extended his hand in greeting. “My sister, Hannah, has much to say about you and your family, Mr. Stafford. She’s terribly anxious to see both you and your lovely wife.”
Damien returned Randle’s firm handshake and smiled. “Hannah and I go way back. Most of your family has had dealings with mine for many decades now. It was a great gift to discover she’d left the Old Country to join you here.”
Randle nodded and motioned for Damien to take a seat with his wife. “Have you eaten? We have many good items on the menu.”
Marie shook her head. “I don’t know that I could have an appetite in this climate. The heat is near to unbearable.”
“Mr. Lockheart?” Damien interjected.
“Randle.”
Damien smiled at the exchange. “Randle, I believe what would best suit our needs at this moment is a cool room and a little rest. There are also some other requirements we must address, when you have time.”
“Ah, yes. In your letter you indicated that you would need a carriage suitable for travel and a guide to the Northern regions.”
Damien nodded.
“I’ve made all the arrangements. Unfortunately, my personal coach is being repaired at the moment. However, I can offer you several choices of surreys or even a covered buckboard. As far as supplies, most anything you need may be purchased at the mercantile across the street. The guide on the other hand, is not so easy a task.”
The Bloodstone Oracle (The Dark Gifts Companions) Page 1
