Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3)

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Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) Page 4

by Theresa Dalayne


  Her breath hitched. “That’s another thing. You have to stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Saying stuff in Spanish that I don’t understand. It’s bad enough with you looking at me the way you do, but then you say those things and…it’s just not fair.”

  Warmth spread through his chest. He had no idea he affected her so deeply. If he were honest with himself, it was endearing. He couldn’t help teasing her further. “And if I were to translate, mi mariposa?”

  “Arwan…”

  “Mi Vida.”

  “You’re so mean.”

  “Mi corazón.”

  “I swear. I’ll get you back.”

  “I doubt it, mi cielo.”

  “You…” She pointed at him, an escaped smile winning over her attempt to appear stern. With her finger pressed against his chest, she dropped her head and stared up at him through feathered eyelashes. Her smile bloomed.

  Mission accomplished.

  Chapter Five

  Zanya

  Finally the caves were in sight. Good thing, because it meant Zanya could finally break the awkward silence. Her humiliation and raw need for some alone time had prevented her from saying a word for the last hour.

  Yes, Arwan had handled her little predicament with class—but still. Your libido being ramped into overdrive was abnormal, no matter how much he wanted to claim otherwise.

  She still had a lot to learn about being Riyata, and this was definitely a curve ball. Especially when it was caused by a force completely out of her control or understanding. Worse, she had no idea when these feelings would calm down, or at least lend her a little sanity. Plus, even though she hated to admit it, Arwan was right. She couldn’t be sure. Not yet. Not until she learned exactly what Renato was referring to and what was eating away at Arwan so deeply, that he refused to talk about. For now, she’d have to be satisfied with finding something legitimate to discuss so the topic didn’t come up again.

  God, please don’t let the topic come up again. Her cheeks flushed.

  “Do you want to set up camp here or go straight into the caves?” She focused on the terrain ahead, doing her best to keep her distance—even if they camped out again, jaguar lurking in the jungle or not.

  “We need to keep moving,” Arwan replied from behind her. The texture of the earth changed under her feet as they drew closer to the entrance. The ground, once spongy and cushioned with layers of fallen leaves and soil, had hardened to dry, compressed dirt. The shadow of the towering mountain face cooled the air and sent a chill over Zanya’s skin. It wasn’t just the temperature that made her shiver, but the dark energy that grew stronger with every step.

  She was able to ignore it until the light in her chest flickered on by itself, and her stone responded to the energy with a burst of panic.

  Zanya stopped and clenched her hand over her stomach. She peered into the gaping mouth of the mountain. “This place is freaking me out.”

  Arwan stopped beside her. “We’re about to enter the gate to the underworld. I’m not surprised.”

  She should have expected as much, but she never thought the cave would carry so much power. A pool of saliva collected under her tongue. “So, do we just go in?”

  “I guess we don’t have a choice.”

  “Right.” She swallowed. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She pulled out the most gung-ho tone she could muster, then shifted the weight of her pack, drew in a cleansing breath, and took a step forward.

  The atmosphere shuddered, and a vicious energy forced her to her knees. She clawed at her chest, every breath burning her lungs.

  Arwan grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to her feet. She clung to him, working hard to regain her balance. It was as if they had walked into some kind of barrier. One she didn’t react well to. His clenched jaw and stiff brow told her he sensed the change, too.

  “Let’s just keep going,” she said between her teeth. It took a few yards, but she was finally able to shake the effects and stand on her own.

  As they stepped into the darkness of the cave, Zanya brightened the light in her chest to guide them. A wavering glow, like that of a candle, cast over the rock walls.

  The textured surface of the caves was a canvas for ancient drawings. Zanya examined the crude figure of a man in a headdress. Speckles of blood dripped from the blade of a knife, which protruded through the man’s tongue clear to the other side.

  Zanya narrowed her eyes and rested her hand against the cold surface of the rock. “What the hell?”

  “Bloodletting. It’s a common practice among the Maya during religious rituals.”

  “Jesus.” She peered at the surrounding images of women with pierced breasts, and children—she took a step back, allowing her fingers to slip away from the stone. “Why didn’t they just kill a goat or something? This is barbaric.”

  “Human blood appeases the gods. Animal blood is inadequate. It’s considered an insult.”

  She scanned the painted walls and realized there were drawings all around them. “Let’s just get out of here.” The cave’s raw power scraped at her nerves. Another chill ran over her skin. “These people were monsters.”

  “These people are our ancestors.”

  “Those people,” she jabbed her finger at the paintings “may be our ancestors, but we’re nothing like them. They were obviously evil or they wouldn’t be killing kids to summon rain. It’s stupid to think that would work anyway. It’s just sick.” She turned and threw her pack on the ground.

  Arwan didn’t reply. Probably because there was nothing to say in their defense. How he could even remotely side with that kind of religious practice?

  Killing people to please higher powers. What kind of god would require that? Not any she chose to revere, that’s for sure.

  Arwan set his pack beside hers and pulled out a bottle of water and an energy bar. “You should eat something before we move on.” He cracked open his water and drank it down all at once. “I don’t know when we’ll have a chance to eat or drink again.”

  Zanya removed her stone from her pack and cradled it in her hands. Its colors morphed from dark blue to violet. She frowned and rested it against her chest. “I know you’re freaked out. Just try to stay calm. We won’t be here long.”

  He leaned toward her. “You’re talking to it?”

  “Yeah. It understands me. But it’s scared.” She ran her fingers over its hot surface. Her skin scalded with red blisters and then healed. She was getting used to the pain and the relief that soon followed. Too bad she hadn’t had that ability back at the orphanage. Zanya clenched her jaw. “You know, it’s just like Sarian to do something like this. He breaks the obedience spell with that book, and instead of just doing whatever he has planned, he drags it out. I mean…” She slumped her shoulders forward, aching from the weight of her pack. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but it’s typical for him. He gets off on watching people suffer.”

  “Which is why we need to keep going.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “We can’t take our packs with us.”

  Her head bobbed up. “What? Why?”

  Arwan zipped his pack closed and shoved it against the wall. “We won’t be able to bring them through the portal.”

  “Oh.” But her stone was large and too awkward to carry in her hands. She had to figure out a way to take it and not have it weigh her down. After a moment in deep thought, she raised it to eye level. “I bet you’d be awesome as a river pebble.” Arwan continued to watch her, but she didn’t mind. He was curious, and for once, it was nice to know something he didn’t.

  She cradled the stone against her chest and closed her eyes, focused on holding the image of a river pebble clearly in her mind. A soft plume of power rippled through her body, and when she opened her eyes, her stone had changed to a smooth, oval rock nestled in the palm of her hand. Though it retained its color and light, it was much more portable.

  She closed her fingers around its ho
t surface, causing her skin to scream. Zanya ignored the pain and focused on calming down the stone with deep, cleansing breaths.

  “How did you do that?”

  “It’s called transformation. It’s an ability I read about in one of Renato’s books.” She opened her hand to the stone. Its colors slowly returned to white and blue. “I practiced it at home a few times with some things from my mom’s old vanity. Cool, huh?”

  “It must be strange to feel the stone’s thoughts and emotions like you do.”

  “A little, but in a way it’s been a part of me my entire life.” Back in the orphanage, she’d dreamed about the stone again and again. She was drawn to it. Linked to it. No matter how much danger there was around her, she always sought it out. Of course, Sarian had managed to step in the way each and every time, but she’d never stopped searching until she found it.

  She slipped the stone into the front pocket of her sweater. “Okay. I think I’m ready.”

  Arwan propped her bag against the rock wall. “We’ll leave our supplies here and get them when we come out.”

  The air chilled as they traveled deeper into the caves. The narrow passage they were following finally opened into a grand cavern. Stalactites hung from the roof of the chamber, giving off an eerie amber glow. The angles of each formation guided droplets of moisture to their points until the drops slipped to the stone ground, filling the space with soft patters and drips.

  In the corner sat a stone altar. Zanya crept toward it over the slick ground. As she drew closer, the light in her chest allowed her to better see the slab. Her heart dropped.

  A small stack of bones was piled on either side of the sacrificial altar with a stone bowl rested on top.

  The bones could only belong to a child.

  Zanya’s stomach slithered. “This is wrong.” The words caught in her throat.

  Arwan slipped his fingers between hers, reassuring her with his touch. “I know.”

  They stood side by side in a mutual moment of silence for the tiny victims.

  “You were right,” he said in a low growl. “They were monsters.”

  Carved markings on the altar’s base caught her attention. She took a hesitant step closer, peering at the symbols. “What is this?” Zanya stooped to see them more clearly, as they were dusty and discolored with age. She brushed her fingers over the glyphs. Each carving seemed to represent a word, like the logograms she’d learned about in ancient history class in the orphanage. “What does this say? Can you read them?”

  Arwan crouched beside her and analyzed the markings. “This is a sacrificial portal.” His gaze rose to the stone bowl fused to the top of the altar. “Child sacrifices were used to gain access to the underworld when those trying to enter didn’t belong.”

  “What do you mean, ‘belong’?”

  “Blood analysis isn’t as new as science likes us to believe.” He stood and rested his hands on the rim of the stone bowl. He dragged his fingers along it, then paused over a sharpened edge. It was still darkened with bloodstains from the last sacrifice. “Those who are at least part underworlder are required to give a blood offering before they are allowed to pass. It’s the only way to cross without a life being given in exchange.”

  Bile churned in her stomach. Everything about this place was dark. The energy of the cave, the weird glowing stalactites hanging from the ceiling, the altar, and the bones. The metallic stink of blood still hung in the air.

  “This is too weird. We need to keep moving.” She couldn’t stand being near the remains for another second. Not when the faces of the innocent children rose through the folds of her imagination. Their tiny bodies must have struggled, knowing what was about to happen, while grown men forced them to lie down.

  She had once read that being offered as a sacrifice was an honor, and often times the elder shaman would give women and children a message to deliver to the gods before they were killed.

  A shiver ran down the back of her arms. What a horrible, unnecessary way to die.

  She stepped back. “How do we get to the portal?”

  “This is the portal.” He turned to face her, his gaze piercing, intense, and unsettling. “Tell me you’ll always want me.” His words came out in a soft plea.

  “What?” She shifted her weight.

  His grip tightened over the stone bowl. “Please, just tell me that after this, you’ll still want me.” His eyebrows arched, as did the panic tearing through her.

  Before she could reply, Arwan pressed his wrist against the bowl and slid it across the sharpened rim. His skin sliced open, and his blood began to flow.

  Chapter Six

  Arwan

  Zanya’s scream tore into him. He pumped his hand to encourage the flow of more blood, knelt beside the stone bowl, and laid his wound over the altar. His shoulders slumped forward as blood trickled into the offering bowl.

  He’d sworn he would never go back to his old life. He’d made an oath to leave that world behind and fight against every soul that dwelled in the shadows—every force responsible for causing pain. Now he was going to break that promise for her, even though he may lose her in the process.

  Zanya clenched her hands on his shoulders. “What did you do?”

  He hung his head as low as he could, wishing he could disappear completely. In that moment, his honor had been stripped away. Shame hung like a heavy cloud over his soul, mocking the years he’d spent hiding the truth and forgetting his ancestry. It had all been for nothing.

  As his blood filled the cracks of the aged rock, the atmosphere of the cavern shuddered. He wrapped one arm around Zanya’s waist and pressed his forehead against her belly as if already begging for forgiveness. But there was no time for that now. He had to hold on to her or she would be lost in the transport.

  A cyclone ripped through the cave. Zanya screamed and grabbed on to him as she fought against the blast. Darkness consumed them, snuffing out any guidance Zanya’s light produced.

  His vision blurred. Only the warmth of Zanya’s body kept him grounded. He clenched his jaw while they were sent to the gate, where worse terror awaited.

  The wind died in an instant and slapped them down on the cold stone of the isolated cave—the other side of the portal.

  The gate to the underworld.

  He struggled to push to his feet, but he had no strength left to support his effort. Zanya’s breaths grew louder until her warm hands cradled his cheeks. He opened his eyes, barely able to see past the pain blurring his vision.

  She grabbed his hand. “Hold on!” Her voice was frantic. “I’m going to heal you.” Warmth seeped into his wrist from her trembling fingers, and his wound knitted together. She rested her hand over his chest, and he relaxed his muscles as the heat from her body poured over him.

  The darkness inside of him thrashed through his gut, curling him into a ball on the floor. He’d managed to keep from changing all these years by staying near the goodness of Riyata, and far from the powers beneath. Crossing through the portal, they were now trapped beside the gate to the underworld. He had to control his darker half, and quickly, or risk it emerging from inside him.

  Zanya’s heat was gone, leaving him frozen on the ground. The chilled air prickled his skin, making it impossible to concentrate. He opened his eyes and peered at Zanya through blurred vision, just long enough to see her expression turn to horror.

  She leapt to her feet. Her footsteps dragged over the ground with each backward step. “What just happened? You tell me right now what just happened!” Her screech bounced off the stone walls. “Your eyes are black. Completely black!”

  He struggled to sit, concentrating to cage the force within him. He’d nearly forgotten how powerful it was.

  He didn’t want her to be afraid of him, but the hope she would still want him had faded at the sound of her trembling voice.

  It took everything he had, but finally he was able to see clearly, which meant his eyes had returned to normal. For now.

  He gathered
the courage to meet her gaze, wishing had never come to this damned place. Now he would never be with her like before. Before she learned who he really was.

  Zanya stood at least ten feet away; her hands were tucked under her chin while she took more backward steps.

  “Zanya—” His voice was cracked and raw.

  “Where are we?” she said in a soft whisper. “What happened to you?”

  He wanted to answer her questions, but each one was more difficult than the last. He’d start with the first and work his way to the second—if he could just stand. With an upward heave, he pushed to his feet.

  Zanya flinched.

  The anguish in his heart deepened. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He gripped his ribs, aching from the impact with the stone ground. “Please stop trying to get away from me.”

  She shook her head. Strands of wild hair hung around her face. “You.” That single word carried more accusation than he could stand.

  He straightened his posture, still holding his side. “I got us through.”

  “By giving your blood.”

  He turned his head and examined the placid cave lake yards away. The mirrored surface reflected the light from the glittering clusters of rocks overhead, glowing like amber stars.

  “You better tell me what the hell is going on, and I mean right now.”

  It wouldn’t be that simple. In order to get through the gate, she’d have to trust him. If he told her everything, there was no way she would.

  “We need to pass through the gate to enter the underworld, Zanya.”

  Her eyebrows pushed together and she let out an exasperated breath. “So you’re just going to pretend like nothing happened? Like you didn’t just slit your own wrist!” She raked flyaways out of her face and then rubbed her heaving chest.

  She hadn’t suffered an anxiety attack in a while, but if anything was going to set it off, this was certainly worthy. He stepped toward her and rested his hands on her arms.

 

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