Zanya coiled back her legs in preparation to kick if he got any closer. “Get away from me,” she screamed, her voice cracked with panic.
His lip curled in disgust. “Have some dignity and stand.” He stretched out his hand to help her up. “If you can stand, please, I only wish to talk.”
Zanya scooted back and forced herself to her feet, leaving his gesture untouched. Her body trembled, and she twisted her hands together to ease the shaking.
“Much better.” He squared his shoulders. “Thank you.” He stepped forward. “Please forgive me. You see, meeting you here, in your mind, is much easier than the efforts I would be forced to endure in order to speak to you in person—though we haven’t had that pleasure just yet.”
She didn’t know what to say or do. He had never spoken to her like this before. Like she was a real person. It didn’t take long to decide she wouldn’t stick around to find out why.
As he stood waiting for a reply, she calculated her escape. What horrors the darkness held were unknown, but what The Man might do to her would be much worse.
She sprinted into action. The darkness was consuming and frightening, but the possibility of a successful escape spiked her adrenaline. Each frantic step put space between her and The Man, until she slammed face-first into some kind of invisible barrier. Her body ricocheted off the unseen wall and collapsed to the ground. Nearly slipping into unconsciousness, she coughed and gasped for air, her ribs aching from the impact.
A pair of black dress shoes with silver buckles stepped into view beside her head. The brass foot of his cane slammed audibly on the floor. “I had to stop you somehow.” His tone turned harsh. She’d angered him. In her experience, that was never good.
Zanya swallowed down a sob, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Get away from me.” She pushed up on her forearms, and with wobbly legs, managed to stand. Her vision was still blurred from the impact. She swallowed and sucked in another breath, swaying on her feet. “You…”
His gaze dragged down the length of her body. “It has been quite fun stepping into your dreams, watching you squirm under your sheets.”
Zanya held her ribs, hunched over with pain. “What do you want?”
“Now, that is an interesting question. What do I want?” He stepped toward her. His eyes churned with magic and something else she couldn’t identify. Something that made her stomach turn.
The space around them shook, rippling like the surface of a disturbed pool of water. The sensation of her subconscious being torn open nearly made her drop to her knees. Before either of them could react, it was gone.
The atmosphere was different. Zanya's skin tingled and the hair on her arms twitched. They weren’t alone anymore. What creature had he called this time? Not that it mattered. There was nowhere to run.
Small fingers wrapped around Zanya's wrist. She jumped and looked down at Marzena, who now stood beside her. Her blonde hair was weightless, drifting away from her body as if gravity no longer existed.
A wave of relief washed over her, cooling the raw fear scalding her veins. Marzena’s angelic face was shadowed with skill and timeless knowledge. Power churned in her emerald eyes.
“Sarian, why have you come?” The projection of Marzena’s voice was enormous, it echoed through the empty space.
“What did you just call him?” Zanya said. “You…you know him?”
Both of them ignored her question.
“I was merely paying a visit to our young guardian. I hadn’t formally introduced myself, although we’ve been acquaintances for many years. Perhaps I should thank you for doing the honors.”
Marzena was clearly not amused. She let go of Zanya's hand, her eyes now completely black like drops of onyx. “Do not jest with me.” The raw fury in her tone shook the space.
Sarian winced, but quickly reassumed perfect composure.
“Where is the stone?” Marzena’s lips never moved as she spoke with her mind. “Give it back to its people. It does not belong to you—nor has it ever.”
Sarian tightened his grip on his cane. “I will follow through with my plans, dreamwalker. If you and your kind wish to live through my reign, I suggest you stop your foolishness and turn the guardian over to me. I have her stone. We both know she is worthless without it.”
Marzena’s hair whipped wildly around her, slashing at the air. Wind conjured from the stillness, pressing Marzena’s thin nightgown flush to her frail form. The space around them trembled a second tie. Crawling fault lines spread through the darkness like a glass dome bearing too much weight.
“We will never surrender the guardian. We will never stop fighting.” Marzena thrust her hands forward. Light burst in from every direction, collapsing the space on top of them.
Zanya's eyes flew open and she shot up in bed. Unable to control the urge, she threw her head over the mattress and vomited on the floor.
Chapter Seven
Arwan
Arwan pushed through the French doors, onto the veranda. Stars dotted the sky, accompanied by the moon hung over the ocean in a perfect crescent. Marzena had woken him up and told him what happened, and about Zanya's healing session with Peter.
Everyone was huddled on the marble patio overlooking the beach. Cups of steaming tea sat in the center of the coffee table. The scent of clove and honey mixed with the salty air.
“His name is Sarian,” Renato said. Zanya was curled up beside Tara on the wicker love seat. She looked pale and clammy. Arwan removed a woven blanket from the storage ottoman and draped it over her. Even with Peter there, they couldn’t afford the time it’d take for her to recover from getting sick. Every day mattered.
She gathered the blanket in her fingers. “Thank you,” she said softly, her gaze following him as he walked across the space. The irises of Zanya’s eyes seemed to swirl like storm clouds. Arwan blinked, refocused, and the swirling had stopped.
Perhaps he was more sleep deprived than he thought.
Zanya draped half of the blanket over Tara’s lap and turned her attention back to Renato.
“We feared he may have the stone,” Renato continued. “We were hoping otherwise.”
Zanya cradled her head in her hands. “He’s made my life hell.”
Renato frowned. “I am truly sorry for your suffering. But the fact that he has been able to tap into your subconscious is only further proof he has the stone in his possession. The guardian is linked with the stone. He is using the connection to infiltrate your mind.”
She picked her head up. “He said something about how I was useless without it. What does that mean?”
“You must formally bond with the stone in order to have full access to the abilities it provides.”
“Wait, what?” She lowered her legs and sat up straight. “What abilities?”
“The abilities that lay dormant within you, Zanya. Haven’t you sensed them? When you’re angry, or passionate, or scared?”
She shook her head. “Not that I can remember. But…something really strange happened to me right before The Man…Sarian…showed up. There was this light—”
“Ah. The light is within every guardian. Ellie carried her light in the palm of her hand.”
“Mine was in my chest.” Zanya tucked her hair behind her ear. Arwan tried not to notice how softly her fingers brushed against the curve of her neck. How was it the most powerful of all Riyata came in the form of such a delicate woman?
He walked to the farthest side of the room to create some space between them. The scent of her hair carried in the wind, quickening his heartbeat. He turned his head away from the aroma of vanilla and lavender. Heightened senses were sometimes more of a curse than a tool. Especially when his instincts drew him towards her.
“I’ve seen it before,” Zanya said. “Except only in my dreams. I never thought it was real.”
“The guardian’s light is nothing short of miraculous. It is the link between you and the stone.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just a little conf
used.” Tara sat forward. “So, who is this guy exactly?”
Everyone’s attention shifted to Arwan as he leaned against the railing. While the group waited for a reply, he debated the outcome of what he had to share. How Zanya would react to the news was anyone’s guess. Unfortunately, there was no way to say it delicately. “He’s the general of the underworld forces.”
Tara threw her hands into the air. “Well that’s fan-freaking-tastic.”
“It’s both very good and very bad,” Arwan said. “Now that Zanya knows who she is, Sarian has come out of hiding. The bad news is, now he’ll be even more motivated to break the obedience spell.”
Zanya sank into her chair. “I’m guessing I should know what that is.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t picked up any of the books I gave you,” Renato said.
She bit her bottom lip. “Uh…not yet.” Renato scolded her with a stern glance. She drew the blanket tighter around herself. “I’ll start on them. I promise.”
Renato pinched the bridge of his nose. “The obedience spell is what keeps the stone loyal to the guardian. It was placed on the stone by the heaven deities, when the stone was first bestowed on our people. Without it, the stone will follow the orders of whoever possesses it.”
Zanya’s throat tightened. “And if Sarian has it…”
“So, now that we know where the stone is,” Hawa said, “we can get it back, right?”
“The stone is with Sarian, but we have not been able to locate him for almost two decades. He vanished just months after Zanya was born.” Renato paused. “After he located Ellie and took the stone.”
“What do you mean, he found her?” Zanya sat up straight. The blanket dropped from her lap to the marble floor. “Did he…” The color drained from Zanya’s face. “Oh my God.” She cupped her hand over her mouth.
“As I told you, Sarian has killed many. He has no boundaries, no—”
“But my mother?” Her voice cracked.
The room fell silent.
Arwan’s chest grew heavy. When he visited his mother’s grave, it was as if the hole in his heart had been torn open again. Zanya was likely experiencing the same thing.
“Sarian will do whatever he must on his quest for power,” Renato said. “He shares bloodlines with both the underworld and the middleworld, and if he is able, he will take this realm as his own kingdom.”
“We’ll find him before that happens,” Arwan said, in an effort to soothe Zanya's obvious heartache.
She looked at him. “And if we don’t?”
He offered the only truthful answer he could. “We have to.”
“I think we should get back to this later,” Tara said, resting her hand on Zanya’s arm. “This is some next level shit, and I think Zanya needs some time to process it all.”
Zanya nodded. “That’d be good, if you all don’t mind.” She curled up and drew the blanket under her chin.
“Very well.” Renato gestured to the group. “Everyone should get some rest.”
Most of the group stood and walked back inside. Tara looked up at Renato. “I’m going to sleep in Zanya’s room tonight, just in case she needs anything.”
Renato nodded. “Very well.”
The guardian and her friend followed Renato inside, leaving Arwan alone on the veranda. He pulled back his hair and turned to the beach, scanning the jungle.
The fight had begun.
Sarian had made himself known. They would soon begin the hunt for his location, if only the guardian could locate the stone.
His gaze drifted over the treetops to blue and green lights wavering in the distance. He narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t the right time of year for the borealis lights—unless someone else had summoned the lights. Someone with the necessary power.
Drina.
He returned to his wing and gathered his things, then took the Jeep on the long drive to thepriestess’s village. The old priestess was up to something.
Once he reached the outskirts of the jungle, he parked and shoved the keys in his pocket before hiking into the trees.
Though the moon and stars provided soft light, the darkness was never an issue for him. His vision was enhanced, his senses heightened. It was one of the only perks to being what he was.
The sounds of the jungle were deafening. Insects were the loudest at night, only second to the sound of rustling branches in the treetops. When he reached the top of the hill, Drina’s modest hut appeared in the distance.
He walked toward the campfire, burning brightly with newly placed logs to keep it alive. “Tia Drina?” He checked the sky. The borealis lights were nowhere to be seen. “Drina?” He smelled her musky scent. She’d always reeked of herbs and nectars from flowers, which she used to mix her various elixirs for the village people. The ones who still believed.
“T’ere you are, boy.” Drina wobbled from her house. “Where have you been?”
“I saw the lights and—”
“Is about time.” She struggled to balance a stone bowl in her hands.
The pungent stink hit him in the face, making him crinkle his nose. “What is that?”
“Stop asking questions and sit.” She jabbed her finger at a log positioned near the fire pit.
Over the years he’d learned not to question her. Arwan sat, embracing the warmth of the fire as it reached out to his skin.
“Tell me.” Drina groaned as she sat across from him. “What of the guardian?”
“We’ve found her. But you already knew that. She doesn’t have much knowledge about—”
“No.” Drina scowled. “Tell me what you see.”
Arwan drew his brows together. “What do you mean?”
“When you look at her, boy. Do you see somet’ing others do not?”
“What am I supposed to see?”
She peered at him from across the fire, her irises reflecting the red and orange flames. “Everyt’ing has a balance.” She pressed her fingers into the stone bowl and scooped out some of the runny mixture. “Breathe deep, boy. Breathe deep, and do not fight the journey.” She flicked the mixture into the fire. It sizzled against the glowing embers. Smoke rose with the flames and mixed with the wind.
Arwan closed his eyes and took in the scent of burnt herbs and ground flowers. With every deep inhale, his mind wandered into a neutral space, as if he were falling into a deep sleep. He hadn’t meditated for a very long time.
His mother’s voice echoed in the distance. She hummed a tune, then stopped and let out a soft laugh. “The world is a mysterious place, my beautiful boy.” His chest tightened and his heart tore open with new, scalding pain. He had spent countless nights trying to remember her voice.
He blinked open his eyes to see her sitting across from him, where Drina sat just moments ago. She was exactly as she appeared in the sketches hung on his bedroom wall—the only clear memory of her had to keep her from slipping away completely.
“Listen to Drina, would you, son?” She tilted her head, a soft smile playing over her lips. “She was a dear friend to me. Even if she is a bit…” She crinkled her nose. “Difficult.”
“Mother?” The word came out in a whisper. He hardly recognized his own voice. He stood and walked toward her. When he reached the other side of the fire, she was gone.
“And stop punishing yourself.” He turned. She stood on the other side of the flames. “You don’t deserve to live in such agony.”
The sharp reminder of what he was pushed to the surface. “You don’t know who I am. Not really.”
“A mother knows her son better than he knows himself.” Her voice was right behind him. He spun around, meeting her face to face. “And you, my dear boy…” She gently ran her fingers through his hair. “The guardian is the answer to my prayers for you. Embrace her. Protect her at all costs. Keep her close, and most importantly, do not fight your destiny.”
He lifted his hand to touch her cheek, only for his fingers to pass through her. A texture like cobwebs broke against his skin as h
e dropped his hand to his side. “I don’t understand.”
“You will. In time.” She smiled, which sucked the breath straight from his lungs. He had forgotten how beautiful she was when she smiled.
His hands shook. “How will I know what’s right and good when…” He balled his fists. “When something dark lingers inside me.”
“With darkness comes light.” She stepped back, creating distance between them.
He reached out to her. “Wait.”
She smiled. “With darkness comes light,” she said again.
“I don’t know what that means.” He stepped toward her, but she vanished into the darkness.
His vision blurred and his head spun. His knees buckled, and he fell to the damp, jungle ground. He grabbed handfuls of soil and twigs, crushing them in his fists.
“I said, do not fight it.” Drina’s familiar voice said from behind him.
Arwan’s breath was ragged. “How long have you been able to contact her?”
Drina paused before she answered. “Many years.”
He ground his teeth, fighting the darkness that clawed through him like a sickness. It swirled in his head and wove through his veins. He tightened his fist and pounded them into the ground. He jumped up and turned to Drina. “How could you?”
“It was not my decision to make. Your mot’er felt you were not ready.”
“And I am now? Why now?” He scowled. “I want it out of me.” He clenched his chest. “I can’t live like this anymore.”
“If you do not trust me, trust your mot’er. You have great purpose, boy, if you only believe.”
Arwan paused and dropped his hands to his sides. “With darkness comes light. What does that mean?”
Drina nodded. “T’at is the right question.”
“Just tell me. I need answers!”
“And they will come. In time.”
He exhaled, his shoulders slumped forward. “In time.”
Drina’s gaze lifted to the horizon. Streaks of yellow, orange and red streaked the sky. “The light has arrived, boy. It will guide you home. Follow it.”
Mayan Blood Page 7
