The Stones of Resurrection

by Tameri Etherton

The air in her rooms thickened with the all too familiar mist that accompanied the phantom. Marissa recoiled, even as she knew it was impossible to avoid. It never spoke, never touched her beyond wrapping a single tendril around her pale wrist. That one wisp conveyed its latest instructions. She struggled to fight the demon, but her body obeyed his every command. Every request, no matter how small, was fulfilled. She could deny it nothing.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks when the thing finally released her and dissipated. A gentle breeze cleared the room of its stench, like the rot of a thousand decaying bodies. Since that first night on the road from Paderau, the phantom had visited only twice, each time more insistent than the last.

  Marissa must let Celia complete the ceremony.

  A ruffle of feathers brought her attention to the balcony, and she squinted to see Valterys transforming. He glanced quickly around him and stepped into her bedchamber.

  “Is it gone?”

  “I don’t like the control it has over me. We must find a way to break the bond or Celia will be successful.”

  Valterys placed his hands alongside her temples and pressed gently. Buzzing sounded in her mind, a hive of voices clamoring to be heard above the din. The shouts of the dead.

  His Shanti spun around the din, silencing it. The powerful wards he placed on her mind helped to keep the phantom from taking over completely. Valterys thought she could protect herself on her own, but she craved his healing after each visit from the mist creature.

  “You’re not wrong,” Valterys said. “This phantom, he is not Kaldaar but an agent of his. Someone who wishes to bring the god back from exile. He is powerful, yes, but not omnipotent.”

  “Then he lives and breathes?”

  Valterys gave a low chuckle. “I believe he does. He’s been visiting our Celia regularly, giving her immense amounts of pleasure, I’m afraid.”

  “It doesn’t touch me except to give instructions.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  She was. Very much so. “Not at all. Are you?” She suspected Valterys, on occasion, pretended to be the phantom, acting as Celia’s lover.

  “How close is Taryn to discovering Celia’s plan?”

  Marissa snorted. “Not nearly as far along as she should be. Without my clues helping her, I’m afraid she’d still be down at the cove, swimming with her idiot friends.” Marissa herself wasn’t certain what Celia planned, but each night she would slip into her room and rummage through the scrolls and notes Celia had made. She hated to admit she needed Taryn’s help to stop Celia. She needed Taryn to stop the phantom from taking over her soul.

  A small, impatient sigh slipped through his lips. He still held her head between his hands, and a shock went through her mind. “You give her too little credit. Taryn is a bright young woman. She’ll get to the core of Celia’s plans. You need to make sure she lives through the ordeal. Rykoto would be quite vexed to learn of her death. I’ve managed to keep this from our god, but he suspects something and is questioning our loyalty.”

  That was a complication she couldn’t afford. Unless she had something better to offer Rykoto. “I’ll go to Celia. She must know who the Master is but is being compelled to forget. If I can distract her, perhaps she’ll unwittingly tell me.”

  Valterys released her head. “I’ve tried that. On several occasions. I truly don’t think she knows. If she did, then she would certainly be able to tell the difference between my presence and his.”

  True. There was nothing similar in their touch. But then, she’d known Valterys her whole life. Celia had never met him before Taryn’s coronation.

  “How fares Zakael? It has been too long since I’ve seen him.”

  “He is well, my darling. While I’ve been here dealing with this, he has been at Caer Idris.”

  “I hope we can both see him soon.” She brushed her lips across his cheek. “My offer stands, you know.”

  He ran a fingernail down her cheek, scratching the tender skin. She moaned into his touch. “I will try to find this mysterious phantom. You see to Celia.”

  “Keep in contact.” She tapped his forehead, and he nodded.

  With a final kiss to her temple, he stepped onto the balcony and transformed into a levon. She watched until he was a speck in the sky before turning back to her room. Valterys didn’t understand the pain she suffered when she attempted to disobey the phantom’s commands. More than physical, the horrors that went through her mind were enough to cripple someone of lesser power.

  She could only imagine the hell Celia was living.

  Kaldaar’s agent offered her nothing and demanded complete obedience. Not unlike Zakael the night she’d spent with him and Eiric. Except she’d received plenty that night and the following morning. This agent of Kaldaar’s was selfish, and Marissa never gave without getting something in return.

  She rubbed her wrist, thinking, plotting. She could allow Celia to succeed, but then what? Was he, in fact, acting on Kaldaar’s behalf, or his own? And if Celia succeeded in bringing Kaldaar back, how would her own plans alter?

  The answers could only mean devastation to her, personally. Celia must fail. For that to happen, Taryn must succeed. With Taryn’s limited abilities with ShantiMari, there was no way she’d survive the phantom.

  Marissa smiled to herself, chuckling at the deviousness of her mind. Luring Taryn to her death would be as easy as coaxing a kitten to milk.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Over the course of the next several days, they searched Celia’s rooms often, finding more prophecies and references to Kaldaar but getting no closer to a resolution. Their break came on the eve of Harvest when Hayden read an obscure passage in a book on the Black Arts.

  They met again in Taryn’s rooms, with several strands of ShantiMari enclosing them in a web of privacy. Hayden held the book but recited from memory a paraphrased account. Before Kaldaar’s fall, he’d settled in the Eastern Province, a short ride from modern-day Talaith. He’d built a temple to himself and gathered followers. The ceremonies held within the great standing stones were secret, with no written account intact. But a few who had witnessed the festivities recounted acts of brutality, mostly to young virgins.

  He stopped then and looked at Taryn. “Perhaps this is what is meant by ‘blood unbroken.’ They needed virgins to rape and plant their seed.”

  Taryn’s stomach roiled at his words. If Celia was working with a Master of the Black Arts, he might be using her as their vessel. But Celia wasn’t a virgin, not by half. “What if it means a bloodline? Does Celia come from an important House?”

  Hayden shook his head. “She is minor nobility, at best. She’s only tolerated at court because she is Marissa’s favorite. I’ve searched her family history and found nothing to indicate that she is strong in the power or has ties to the Black Arts.”

  “What else does the book say about Kaldaar?” Rhoane asked.

  “Only that these rituals were performed every few hundred seasons.”

  “What about the link to Sabina’s family? Have you found more about that?” Baehlon sat forward, his hands pressed on his knees, as if he was ready to spring forward at the slightest provocation.

  “None.”

  “Where did you say Kaldaar’s temple was located?” Eliahnna checked her notes, frowning.

  “The Stones of Kaldaar,” Hayden supplied. “The ruins are southeast of Talaith, about a two- possibly three-bell ride.”

  She flipped to a page near the end of her journal. “That’s on Herbret’s property. His family purchased the land forty seasons ago. Before that, they were lesser merchants living in Anklam, on the coast. No ties to the Black Arts that I could find.”

  It made no sense, and yet it had to make sense. What would Herbret’s family want with property tied to the granddaddy of the Black Arts?

  “What did Herbret’s family deal in?” Taryn picked up Kaida and scratched her under the chin. The pup was restless, but playtime would have to wait.

  Eliahnna tossed her s
trawberry blonde tresses with a shake. “I couldn’t find any mention of what they traded.”

  “Books,” Faelara supplied. “I remember my father bought plenty of books from them before they moved here. Most of those scrolls you’ve been reading came from Herbret’s parents. They would search the world for rare scrolls for Talaith’s library.”

  That Herbret’s parents had supplied the books couldn’t be a coincidence. There was more to it, but Taryn was missing something. Something important. If Herbret’s parents were trying to hide something, they wouldn’t have brought it to the palace.

  “What if they found a scroll and kept it? What if it had information that on a certain day, if you did a certain thing, you would earn something amazing?”

  “Like if you took a virgin to the Stones of Kaldaar?” Hayden provided the context to Taryn’s simplified hypothesis.

  A heavy silence fell over the group as they came to the same conclusion.

  Sabina.

  Herbret had wanted her hand for more reasons than supposedly loving her.

  “Then I must be the vessel written about in the prophecy,” Sabina said, her expression sober but tears brimming in her eyes.

  Eliahnna scooted closer to the Summerlands princess, and Faelara took her hand.

  “Now that we know what they’re planning,” Taryn said softly, “we just need to know when.”

  “Harvest.” Tessa looked at Taryn. “Celia kept saying something about meeting her mystery man at Harvest. When we were at Paderau, remember?”

  The pieces were clicking into place.

  “Harvest is tomorrow. We must keep Sabina under guard until then,” Rhoane said, pacing the room, his hand hovering above his sword.

  “I have to miss the festival?” If it weren’t for Sabina’s genuine pout, Taryn would’ve thought she was kidding.

  “It is for the best. We cannot risk you leaving the palace tomorrow. If we are correct in assuming Celia and Herbret have planned this all along, then you will be safest here, with guards at your door.” Rhoane’s voice was gentle, but there was steel beneath his words.

  Great Lady, Ebus’s voice echoed in her mind. The phantom is in the palace. He is with Lady Celia. I believe they are going—

  The connection ended abruptly, and Taryn shook her head as if to regain his thoughts. She tapped her temples and hopped on one foot until she glanced up to see her friends regarding her with worried looks. Kaida growled her displeasure at being shaken.

  “Right. So, um, Celia’s boyfriend? He’s here.”

  The next few minutes were a chaotic mash of voices, ideas, and weapons being drawn.

  Finally, Taryn held up a hand to silence the others. “This thing can’t be seen. I spied Celia with it once, but there was nothing tangible for me to actually see.” She hoped Rhoane understood her meaning without having to tell the others she could see ShantiMari. “What I propose is someone follows Celia.” At Tessa’s excited gesture, Taryn added, “Not you. I’m sorry, darling, you’re too inexperienced.”

  “Actually, she’s perfect,” Eliahnna argued. “She’s little, so no one pays her much mind. She’s fast, she’s nimble, and she knows this palace better than any of us. She can get around without being noticed.”

  “I don’t like it.” Baehlon crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll find Celia and this phantom.”

  More arguing ensued. Rhoane cast Taryn a questioning glance.

  Ebus and I saw Celia on the road to Talaith. We didn’t say anything because we had to be certain she was plotting something.

  Where is Ebus now?

  Taryn blanched at the question. I don’t know. He was following Celia, and then I lost contact.

  “No,” Rhoane said and everyone stopped talking. “Baehlon and Timor will stay here and guard the others. Carina and Taryn will come with me.” He took a few steps before adding to Sabina, “If something is afoot, the best place for you is here, in Taryn’s apartment. Do not, under any circumstances, leave. Faelara, Eliahnna, and Tessa, scout the public areas, but do not engage with Celia or the phantom.”

  “I’ll go with the women.” Hayden took Kaida from Taryn and placed her on Sabina’s lap.

  Rhoane nodded his approval and they left, each turning in opposite directions. Their best option was to separate and canvass as much of the palace as they could, making discreet inquiries to Celia’s whereabouts without garnering unwanted attention.

  Taryn walked as fast as she could without actually running and headed to Celia’s quarters. A maid told her Celia was out but offered to let Taryn wait for her in the sitting room. She made a quick check of the suite, sensing nothing untoward. On her way out, she left a message for Celia that she’d like to meet for tea later—something innocuous that wouldn’t arouse suspicions.

  From there, Taryn went to the place she’d last met with Ebus. She searched the room that led to the formal gardens but found no evidence he’d even been there. Several times, she heard from Carina or Rhoane about their progress. Or lack thereof.

  Taryn checked the library before heading to the throne room. At the huge double doors, a slick coating of ShantiMari clung to her skin. Black Shanti. The phantom had passed that way.

  She called Rhoane and waited until he and Carina were standing beside her before pushing open the doors.

  The darkened room was empty from what she could tell. Carina lit several candles with a flick of her wrist. The action was so quick Taryn didn’t have a chance to follow her Mari. The added light did little to dispel the vacant feeling in the room, though. A thickness settled on her then, as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Like the void.

  Can you feel it too? Taryn asked Rhoane.

  What?

  The weight of nothingness.

  There seems nothing out of place here. It feels the same as always.

  Sword held out before her, Taryn swept the area. Tiny pinpricks crept up her arms the farther she moved into the shadows. When she approached the elaborate throne with a moon carved into the wood, she swooned. The room spun once, then settled into a discordant replica of what it had been. Rhoane and Carina were there, searching, as she was, but they looked distant, as if a filmy wall separated them. As if a mist had descended around her, blocking light and sound.

  She touched her pendant. Silence. She listened for the familiar hum of her sword, but no songs played in her mind. No melodies to mark her passing. Only a disturbingly lonely silence.

  Taryn reached out to touch the seat but hesitated. Her fingertips wavered above the wood.

  Taryn.

  Rhoane’s voice startled her, and she pulled her hand back, releasing the haze. He motioned that the room was clear, they were moving on.

  Without giving the throne another glance, she left the room, but the sensation she was being watched stayed with her.

  They searched the entire palace, finding neither Celia nor her lover. Aside from the throne room, Taryn sensed nothing and there was no sign of Ebus.

  The hour grew late and, frustrated at their lack of progress, they halted the search. Taryn returned to her rooms in a miserable mood. Lorilee and Ellie worked quietly as they prepared her for the informal feast Lliandra had insisted she attend. The following night there would be a grand ball, but Harvest Eve the empress liked to celebrate with just her closest courtiers and family.

  Taryn arrived with Rhoane, both surprised to see Celia already seated. Marissa and Herbret chatted with the strange girl, all three looking relaxed and enjoying the evening’s festivities. Whatever entertainments there were couldn’t keep Taryn’s thoughts from Ebus and Sabina. Even with her sword and powers, she felt impotent to do anything to help them.

  Taryn sat at the table, her foot tapping impatiently until Rhoane placed his hand over her knee. Near midnight, exhausted and unable to keep her eyes open, Taryn said goodnight to her mother and sisters. She wanted Sabina to stay with her that night, but the Summerlands princess insisted she was well protected with so many people around. Beside
s, she’d argued, Celia was there and no harm had come to her.

  As a caveat, Baehlon promised to set four guards on Sabina’s doors—two in the hallway and two on the balcony. In addition, her maids would sleep in her rooms and not let the princess out of their sight. Carina volunteered to stay with Sabina, as well. Taryn didn’t like it. But Sabina was adamant. Hayden volunteered to patrol the grounds with Baehlon and Rhoane.

  Outvoted and too tired to argue, Taryn shuffled to her rooms, curled Kaida into her arms, and fell into a fitful sleep. She woke before sunrise and took Kaida outside. While the grierbas snuffled around the bushes, ferreting out rodents, Taryn puzzled over all they’d learned. She still couldn’t understand how Celia became involved, or how Marissa figured into the scheme. Or if somehow Zakael was behind the plot. She had too many questions and still no answers.

  Time was running out. Today was Harvest. The one day of the year when Aelinae had no moons.

  Bring night into day. It made no sense. If Harvest had no moons, then how was it possible to bring night into day?

  She and Kaida walked back to the palace, taking the side entrance near the stables. A figure clad in a black cloak rode straight at her. Across his saddle, wrapped in crimson fabric, was an unmoving body. The wind whipped up a corner and she saw the delicate gold anklet Sabina always wore. He bore down on her, and she leapt aside to avoid getting trampled.

  “Herbret!” She raced after him, demanding he stop, but he was too fast. She threw a net of her ShantiMari over him, but an unseen force blocked it. She raced to the stables, reaching for her sword.

  It wasn’t there.

  “Motherfucker!” she screamed to the sky.

  She spun around, grabbed Kaida by the scruff, and raced to her room. Along the way, she called to everyone’s minds, waking them, telling them what she’d witnessed. When she burst through the door to her quarters, Lorilee jumped in fright, knocking over a pot of tea. Her apologies went unheard as Taryn sped to her dressing room, grabbing clothes at random and throwing them on. She ordered Kaida to stay in her rooms, to keep her maids safe, and then she ran, full-out, to Sabina’s apartment. There, she found the two guards slumped against the wall, their foreheads bleeding.