Taryn stared at Brandt, mouth agape, an argument on her lips, but the handsome man stepped between them and the man in black, drawing her attention. Green lights sparked across his body.
“Zakael, this is nothing that concerns you.” In contrast, his voice blended with the environment, eloquent, melodic. Safe. Comforting.
Dark, silvery flares whipped around the one he called Zakael. “I wouldn’t be too certain of that.” He indicated Taryn. “Who is the priest’s friend? She’s tall for an Aelan, but those blue eyes and that glorious, sun touched hair remind me of someone.”
The air shifted around them, electric, full of pent-up animosity.
“Stand down, Rhoane. Zakael will not harm us,” Brandt warned, his anger directed at the darker of the two men. “I don’t want a quarrel with you or your master. Leave this place at once.”
A flash of anger crossed Zakael’s face. “You have something that belongs to my lord.” A bright ball of silver fire sprang to life on his outstretched palm. “Give it to me, and I’ll let you live.”
Taryn shrank behind her grandfather. The flame danced on Zakael’s hand with a menacing ferocity, as if impatient to be released.
“Zakael,” Rhoane said low enough Taryn had to strain to hear, “this cavern is sacred to the Light. Do not work your Dark power here.”
“I demand that you give me what is mine.” The force of Zakael’s stare immobilized her where she stood.
Her mind screamed at her to run, to take Brandt and sprint to the portal, but her body betrayed her instincts and wouldn’t budge.
Seconds passed in slow succession. Rhoane’s jaw tightened, his fists flexed in anticipation. Then Zakael’s body softened, his shoulders slumped forward, and he turned to leave. Taryn exhaled the breath she’d been holding, but Brandt gripped her hand tighter.
Zakael took a few steps and swung around, his black cloak fanning out like wings. A silvery ball flew at Rhoane. Prepared for the attack, a web of green power consumed the fireball, dissolving it with an angry hiss.
Thick strands of Zakael’s energy spiraled to the ceiling and loosened several crystals, sending them crashing to the ground. A wall of tawny light sprang up, protecting her from the glittering shards that shattered all around her.
“We need to leave. It’s not safe here,” Taryn urged Brandt, edging back toward the portal.
His eyes held a sadness she’d never seen before. “There is no going back for us. Aelinae is, by turns, beautiful and dangerous. You must trust this is for the best.” Brandt moved them away from the fight, keeping his body between her and the men, never losing contact with her. The luminous wall of energy swirled in a frenzy, as if it longed to join the fray.
Taryn watched in stricken horror as Zakael circled Rhoane, taunting him. Their grudge went beyond this morning; that much was clear. The crystals lost their translucence, their glow vibrating in deep shades of aubergine and red.
“Do not do anything that cannot be undone,” Rhoane warned.
A jag of laughter was Zakael’s answer. A length of ashen energy whipped around Rhoane’s legs and pulled him to the ground.
A sword appeared in his hand and he slashed through the bindings, missing several times before he freed himself. He leapt up and advanced on the other man, a murderous tilt to his features.
“Baba,” she begged, “please. If we don’t leave right now, one of these lunatics is going to kill us with those energy balls. Please. Now?”
Zakael held his hands out placatingly. “My quarrel is not with you this day, Glennwoods.” He turned his attention to Taryn, his leaden glare cutting her soul before he settled a look on Brandt. “Priest, I will only say this once more. Return that which has been stolen.”
Brandt opened his mouth to speak, but before any words were said, a bright flash of silver shot toward them.
“No!” Taryn moved to cover Brandt at the same time he threw a ball of amber flames at Zakael. A deafening explosion rang through the cavern when the two orbs collided. Sparks flared in a rainbow of color, and the impact flung Zakael backward with such force he hit the wall with an ominous crack before his body slumped to the ground in a motionless heap.
Waves of energy pushed over her, biting at her skin. Brandt staggered and slid to the ground, pulling her with him.
“Brandt!” Taryn bent over him and felt for a pulse. His labored breathing echoed through the cavern. “No, no, no. Stay with me, Baba.” Rhoane knelt beside her and placed one hand on Brandt’s forehead, the other on his chest. “Help him, please,” she begged while stroking Brandt’s face. Her vision blurred with unshed tears.
Her grandfather’s eyelids fluttered open, and he smiled at Taryn. “My darling girl.” He reached up, cupping her cheek in his soft palm. “So much I have left to teach you. Too much left unfinished.” His gaze traveled to Rhoane. “Cael glinth aedder dia. Kulmacht vroider s’ael llynvayr khol dorn.” Brandt spoke in a language she’d never heard.
“What’s he saying?” Taryn asked Rhoane. His eyes widened, but he didn’t reply. “Baba,” Taryn pleaded, “what did you tell him?” A wave of nausea rose in her belly, and she swallowed hard to keep the sickness at bay. A green thread of Rhoane’s energy wound around Brandt, hovering above his mouth as he struggled to pull in air. “We need to take him back through the portal. We have doctors and hospitals. Someone there can help him.”
“No, Taryn.” The wheeze in Brandt’s voice hurt to hear. “This is the only place that can help me now.” The calmness in his eyes made her heartbreak more terrible. “Rhoane al Glennwoods ap Narthvier, I’m entrusting you with protecting Taryn.” A look passed between the two men, and Brandt gripped Taryn’s hands. “Promise me you’ll stay here on Aelinae with Rhoane. Promise you won’t return to Earth.”
Chapter Two
What could she say? It didn’t matter if she was on Earth or Aelinae because without Brandt, one was just as meaningless as the other was. Home to her meant Brandt. If she stayed on Aelinae, she’d have to put her life in a stranger’s care. Aelinae was not her world. It was foreign and mysterious, yet somehow familiar.
Rhoane sat opposite her, his quiet strength clear in his eyes. She stared into them, looking for answers. The tilt of his head, the quirk of his lips, brought back a hazy memory from a dream. Of a young man whispering words to her in the beautiful language Brandt had spoken. And then it was gone, as if it never was.
Taryn squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, willed her heart to slow, her mind to clear. Nothing made sense.
“The adventure you seek, the life you crave, it’s here on Aelinae.” Brandt interrupted her thoughts with his ragged words, and she looked down at her grandfather. “Will you promise to stay?”
Tears fell on their entwined fingers, and she wiped her eyes with a shrug of her shoulder. “I promise.”
“That’s my girl.” Brandt’s eyelids fluttered, and his breath caught in his chest. “Trust yourself. I’ve taught you much of what you need to know, but there is more to your learning. You’ll stay with Rhoane?” His voice was nothing but a whisper.
“Yes. I’ll stay with Rhoane if that’s your wish.” She stroked the side of his face, cringing at his rasping breaths.
Brandt placed Rhoane’s right hand over her left and spoke in the lyrical and haunting language she didn’t understand. Some of the words pricked her skin. The two songs of her pendant kept cadence with Brandt, silent to all but her. The lyrics blended with Brandt’s words, becoming a part of his actions.
As Brandt spoke, a peculiar feeling enclosed her in a shroud of tranquility. His voice flowed around her, filling the space of the cavern, then lowering as he pulled a thin thread of amber light from the air. This, he carefully wrapped around their hands. Taryn drew in a sharp breath when the fiber disappeared into their skin. Brandt laid his head back, breathing his final words, “Tienden dal cyrinise da gaellendale.”
“Tienden dal cyrinise da gaellendale,” Rhoane intoned before kissing his thumb and placing it over his
heart. With great reverence he bent, touching Brandt’s forehead with his lips. A faint scent wafted over her with Rhoane’s movement. Clean, crisp, with an earthiness like a mountain forest after rain. She inhaled and embraced the peace that enveloped her.
Cheeks wet with tears, Rhoane curled his fingers around hers. Once more he made the strange gesture of kissing his thumb and touching it above his brow, then placed his hand over his heart. “I am sorry, Darennsai. I had hoped our meeting would be happier than this.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine and she rubbed her arms against the chill. “Were you and that other man waiting for us?”
“Zakael chose today to search the cavern. I have been waiting here for a fortnight.”
“Two weeks?” It had to be coincidence. That was around the same time Brandt quit working. She shivered again and he moved as if to cover her and then hesitated.
“You are cold. Let us be by the fire.”
He stood, but she hesitated. “What were you speaking to Brandt?”
“The language of my people.” He held out his hand and she took it cautiously. A slight shock zipped up her arm when their palms met. The energy Brandt wrapped around their wrists brightened and then dulled in the space of a second. Quick enough she doubted what she saw.
A multitude of questions crashed through her thoughts, but they were silenced by pulsating cavern walls. They glowed with a radiance bright enough to bring day forth from night. The light swirled, coalescing into an airy star that descended from the darkness toward them. Tiny multihued rays streaked outward from the center to the far reaches of the cavern, dispelling the darkness.
A lilting female voice spoke to them. “Come here, my children.” Rhoane stepped toward the light, but Taryn held back. “I have waited many long seasons to hold you once more. Come, my beloved.”
Taryn put a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the brightness.
“Tell me, child, why do you hesitate?”
Taryn squinted at the star. “The light is too bright. It hurts.” She caught the look of surprise on Rhoane’s face. “Can’t you see it?” When he shook his head, she challenged, “What do you see?”
“Nadra, goddess of Aelinae and all creation.”
“A goddess? As in, all-powerful, lightning bolts from the sky kind of thing?” Taryn resented the waver in her voice and the tremble to her legs.
Nadra’s laughter sounded sweet and pure, like the gaiety of children. “I’ve never thrown a lightning bolt, but I can if you’d like. In the lands from which you’ve come, I have many names that span just as many centuries, but here they call me Nadra.” The star blazed brighter before settling into a muted glow that revealed a woman with flowing white hair and a round, youthful face. “Better?”
“Beautiful,” Taryn whispered. Nadra hovered above the sandy ground, her bare feet peeking out from a gossamer gown. Her skin twinkled with tiny dots of light, as if she were made of all the stars in the universe.
Her soft voice bore immense sadness, her blue eyes misty as she spoke. “I am sorry, daughter, for your loss.” Her gaze went to Brandt, and Taryn’s chest clenched. The goddess caressed Taryn’s face, warmth spreading from her fingertips. “He was ever my favorite and shall never be far from our hearts.” She hovered between Rhoane and Taryn, taking their hands in hers. The thread Brandt had woven into their skin shimmered. Little pictures appeared at Nadra’s touch.
Taryn traced a circular image on her wrist. The pictures faded into her skin once again and she shuddered involuntarily. If only Brandt had explained what was happening, then she wouldn’t be so afraid. If only that man hadn’t killed Brandt. If only.
“Couldn’t you save him?” Taryn asked the goddess.
“Alas, my daughter, no. Someday you will understand why. Long have I watched over you, awaiting the day of your return. I know this is all new and upsetting, dear one. I sense your desire to return to Earth and yet an equally strong will to stay and face what may come. Earth was not your home, Taryn. Aelinae is.”
“That’s what Brandt said, too. Am I human?”
“No, dearest, you were born Aelan.”
“Why were we on Earth? Why come back now?”
Nadra’s energy flared around both Taryn and Rhoane, giving off a soothing heat that calmed Taryn’s racing heart.
“It is for you to discover your path,” the goddess said. “Only then will these answers be made known to you.”
Taryn pointed to where Zakael lay hunched on the ground. The slight rise and fall of his chest indicated life. “My path lies right there. Getting justice for my grandfather’s murder.”
“Your love of Brandt is honorable but now is not the time for revenge. I know it was Brandt’s wish to see that you are cared for in his absence. These marks signify this desire.” She ran a finger over Taryn’s wrist, and the designs swirled before settling once more into her skin. “I would like to add my own blessings to these bonds. Will you accept them?”
“Bonds?” Taryn’s voice rose an octave. She forced herself to remain calm.
“Through words and power, Brandt bound you and Rhoane in an ancient ceremony, creating a special link between the two of you. It’s a very high honor.”
“Are they permanent?”
“Yes, my love.”
Taryn stepped away to kneel beside Brandt. She smoothed the white robe he wore, straightening the fur-lined vest across his chest. The garments looked handsome on him, dignified and regal. “These aren’t Brandt’s clothes. He was wearing a tweed jacket that smelled of cigar and aftershave.” She squeezed her eyes against the threat of tears. “Am I dreaming?”
“No, darling. I put Brandt in his robes of office. They seemed more fitting,” Nadra explained.
Rhoane knelt beside Taryn, and once again the scent of forest drifted toward her. “I can understand why you are frightened. It is not my wish to force the bonding against your will.”
Taryn wiped her wet cheeks and glanced at him. “You know what she’s asking and you freely accept it, even though it means you might be stuck with me for a long time?”
Rhoane chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. Like Nadra’s, it was warm with a gentle thrumming of his power. “That is a risk I am willing to take. I gave Brandt my word that I would watch over you.” A half-smile played at the corners of his lips, and he shrugged slightly. “With or without the bonds, it is you who is stuck with me.”
Brandt looked peaceful as he lay against the sand. Her fingers brushed Brandt’s soft cheek, smoothed a few wisps of white hair. “I made a promise, as well. I suppose I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, dear one,” Nadra said in her lilting voice. “This must be your decision.”
Taryn eyed Rhoane skeptically. “Will you help me avenge Brandt’s death?”
Nadra’s lips pursed at the request, but Rhoane ignored her. “I will do that and more.” He touched his thumb to his heart. “You have my word.”
Taryn held out her hand. “I accept. Do your thing.”
Rhoane placed his hand over hers, and their bonds sparked to life. Nadra whispered words similar to Brandt’s, and the lights in their skin glowed and shifted. As she wrapped a silver thread around them, new images appeared on her wrist. After a momentary burning, the glow dimmed and then settled into a discordant pattern of shapes and symbols.
Nadra kissed each of their palms. “I will watch over you, my two children, but I cannot intervene.”
“Thank you, Great Mother,” Rhoane said, bowing to the goddess. Unsure what to do, Taryn offered a clumsy curtsey type bow.
With a graceful turn, Nadra scooped up Brandt’s body as if he were nothing more than a small child.
“What are you doing?” Taryn moved to stop the goddess, placing her hand on Brandt’s arm.
Nadra paused, a reassuring smile on her lips. “I will take him with me to Dal Tara, where the gods dwell. It is between the worlds, a place of beauty and serenity. His selflessness and courage in an
impossible situation earned him the right.” A glittering tear tracked down her cheek, a moonbeam among the stars. When it hit the ground, a crystal rose out of the sand. “Be assured that he will be content. He will be with you, as ever he was.”
Stupid with emotion, Taryn just nodded. Tears stung her eyes when she placed her lips to Brandt’s cheek, breathing in his essence for the last time. Nadra nodded once to Rhoane and then ascended into the air, disappearing into the darkness.
When the last of Nadra’s light faded from the cavern, Taryn sank to the ground, curling her fingers into the sand. It would be easy to lose herself to grief. To allow the flood of tears. But Brandt had raised her to be strong. To know when vulnerability could cripple a person.
Rhoane knelt beside her, his hand hovering an inch above her shoulder, hesitant, as if unsure how to comfort her. Despite his presence, she was alone.
In the space of a morning, she’d lost her best friend, her only family, and her world.
Chapter Three
Taryn’s belly burned with need. For vengeance and the hunger to see the man who killed her grandfather punished. There would be time for mourning later.
She sprang up, her sudden movement surprising Rhoane. He followed her angry strides until she came to Zakael’s inert form. The desire to crush his skull consumed her. She gripped her fists against the impulse to cause him harm, then flexed her hands. Bloody half-moons formed in her palms where her fingernails cut into her flesh.
“Taryn?” Rhoane’s voice was low, cautionary.
“He needs to pay for what he did to Brandt.”
“Would you have me kill him?” A spark lit in his eyes. Challenging. Something else lay hidden there, too. Something that reached to her core and frightened her.
She glanced at the pathetic form lying huddled on the sand. “As much as I hate him right now, it wouldn’t be right. There’s no honor in killing an unconscious man.” When she glanced back to Rhoane, there was approval in the mossy depths of his stare.
The Stones of Resurrection Page 2
