by Jaci Miller
“This is where the Book of Realms is hidden?” She asked her eyes scanning the vast expanse looking for a clue.
“It is, I can feel it,” he responded, a dark shadow passing over his eyes. “It is also the place my parents and brother perished.”
Her breath caught in her chest as her blood chilled. Turning to him she put her hand gently on his back continuing to experience the haunting pain that coursed through his body at the memory of his family. She was not sure she would ever get used to this transference of emotions that she and Rafe now shared. She waited silently until the last of the painful memories subsided and he took a deep breath.
“We must head inland toward the dry sea,” he said, pointing toward a massive rock formation that towered ominously in the distance. “The book has been hidden just east of it in the underground caverns.”
She nodded, adjusting her backpack as she followed him along the edge of the cliff to a small path that would lead them down into the suffocating wasteland below.
Chapter 30
Dane pulled her scarf over the lower half of her face attempting to stop the dust from entering her mouth. The trek across the Dead Lands was exhausting as the barren landscape continued to sap her energy and strength. Rafe stopped on multiple occasions to have her drink water and rest, but the strange fatigue continued to weave itself through the air. She dragged her feet along the cracked ground struggling to move forward, her body aching, her limbs almost too heavy to move.
The sun pounded down on them as the heat in this unbearable dust bowl scorched her skin. She had already removed her jacket and shirt and now trekked through the wastelands in just a tank top. Rafe seemed less affected by the sudden shift in the environment, but his skin too glistened with sweat as he walked ahead of her.
“Stop fighting the process, Dane,” he snapped, turning to watch her as she struggled to keep up. “We are children of the earth and we must adapt to all its forms.”
Taking her by the shoulders he looked deeply into her eyes. “Let it in, it will not harm you,” he murmured.
She felt the peculiar tug as the dead energy tried to enter her, but this time instead of willing it away she allowed it entry. Its energy was dense and stifling, a thick fog that traveled through her veins and up into her mind. Its long dusty fingers dragging themselves up her skin as it fused with the ancient magic already pulsing through her body.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp sting that made her gasp for breath as her legs gave out underneath her. He held her steady, keeping her upright with his strong muscular hands. Her head spun as the dust began to settle on her skin its suffocating density dispersing through her being. It seemed like forever before the feeling came back into her legs and she could stand on her own. She was embarrassed by how weak and fragile she must look to him.
He released her and took a step back, allowing her to amalgamate to her new surroundings.
“Better?” he asked, a tinge of concern making his voice crack.
She nodded, still finding it difficult to take a breath as the energy of the Dead Lands finished fusing with her own. She began to feel better. The different magical essences contained in the varying landscapes of Dywen left her with an uneasy sense of contrast and balance.
The sun had peaked, blazing a path across the clear blue sky as they reached the enormous rock formation that marked the proximity of the caverns. It stood in the center of a dry seabed, its surface ravaged by water that had dried up long ago. A dark ring still encircled the rock face, a ghostly reminder of the sea that once claimed this part of the land.
She surveyed the landscape to the east, heat waves distorting her view as she searched the cracked earth for the opening to the caverns.
“Almost there,” he acknowledged taking out the canteen one more time and handing it to her.
Sliding her back down the large rock, she sat in its cool shadow, thankful to be out of the blazing sun. Quickly, she removed her scarf from her face, rinsing it in water before putting it back over her mouth. They rested for a few more moments allowing her to assimilate to the Dead Lands before continuing to the underground caverns.
As they reached their destination, she could see the opening was created by a series of long slate ledges leading down into an even larger crater, hidden beneath the surface. The ledges narrowed as they went deeper into the earth, eventually disappearing into the shadows below. Carved into one side were stone steps, an iron railing leading the way down into the darkness. They circled the crater’s opening and descended the first few steps stopping only to retrieve a torch from a small crevice near the top of the staircase. She trailed behind him following the light of his torch, tentatively testing the stairs and the rusty railing as she walked further down into the cool shadows below. The midday heat lessened the further they descended into the dark and in its place, a musty dampness emerged to assault her nostrils. It was a putrid smell that reminded her of decaying plants.
He waited for her at the bottom, the torchlight highlighting the frown on his face, his body language betraying his agitation long before she felt the uneasiness that heightened his energy. As she reached him he turned and hastily walked down a small corridor cut into the cavern wall before she could ask him what was wrong.
Following the glow of the torchlight, she hurried after him, snaking her way carefully through the long damp stone corridor, emerging into a large round room. The walls were slightly damp from the coolness, the dirt floor dry and dusty. The room was barren except for Rafe who stood at its center, waiting.
“The book has been hidden by an ancient concealment spell,” he said removing his pack and searching inside for a small vial of powder. “We will need to release the spell and allow the book to call to you.”
“Why would the book call to me?” She asked confused by his assertion.
“The book can only be retrieved by an elder, and since you are of the elder bloodline, a daughter of Seri, the book should reveal its whereabouts to you.” He retorted, an edge to his voice that made her shudder unexpectedly.
Removing a vine that crept up the cavern wall, he stripped the wooden root of leaves, using the split tip like a pencil he drew a large rune in the dirt at the room’s center.
“Dywen’s magic is strong enough now for me to reverse the concealment spell.”
Tossing the root to the side he removed the cork from the vial and dusted the runes outline with the yellow powder, reciting an ancient incantation in the language of his ancestors as he walked. The powder hit the edges of the rune, sparking and sizzling as it ignited the ancient symbol in a bright orange fire.
As the rune burned, images suddenly began to appear on the cavern walls, flaming in the same crackling fire. The images revealed themselves one at a time as a cold creeping chill began inching its way down her spine. The walls were engulfed by burning runes, the singeing fire burning for a few minutes longer before fizzling out in a whispering hiss, leaving nothing behind but the smell of scorched ash floating in the air.
Suddenly, she felt a shift in the energy that swirled around her, its essence exploding as an onslaught of emotions engulfed her—surprise, anxiety, fear, hate, confusion, all radiating from Rafe as he stood in the middle of the room. He turned slowly, gaping at the remnants of the singed runes that had unexpectedly appeared on the cavern walls.
Without warning he turned, bolting back through the corridor, passing her so quickly, she barely felt the emotional war that raged inside of him.
His unexpected reaction to the fiery runes caused her to hesitate briefly as she stared after him, stunned by his sudden exit. Regaining her senses, she darted through the dark corridor emerging into the cavern just as he was about to ascend the stairs.
“STOP!” She yelled, her voice sounding more demanding than she had intended as it echoed loudly off the cavern walls.
He r
eacted abruptly, turning on his heel, and striding angrily back toward her. His sudden advancement was so unexpected that she involuntarily retreated backward until her movement was stopped by the cavern wall behind her.
His eyes were ablaze as he halted inches from where she stood, his breath ragged, a small gleam of sweat shimmering on his brow. He stood silent like a predator assessing his prey before striking, his intense gaze making her squirm with discomfort. He continued to stare at her, his brow furrowed, his eyes darkening with anger.
She fidgeted as her heart raced and her entire body involuntarily reacted to the shifting and pulsating energy. He smelled of sweat and sandalwood. A manly scent that wafted seductively around him. It was both intoxicating and frightening, which caused her to forget momentarily the penetrating fury that she felt seeping from his pores. Her mind numbed as their chemistry erupted, its multifaceted surfaces reflecting the passion they had enjoyed only a day earlier. As she stood helplessly caught in his powerful energy, she sensed a change in him, something dark that simmered just below the surface.
Something he didn’t want her to see.
He leaned in closer, reaching up and placing his left hand on the cavern wall above her ear. She could feel his breath hot on her cheek as his dark stare pierced through her. She was caught in between fear and desire, trapped unwittingly by a man who both confused and excited her. She shifted her weight as his angry energy crushed down on her, their eyes locked, neither speaking as the air sizzled around them.
She reeled from the conflicting energy that battled deep inside her—being bound to a man so tortured was exhausting. Deepening her stare, she felt her defiance surface. Pushing up her shoulders she stood taller so that he no longer looked down on her as she summoned her will determined not to succumb to his dominance.
“We need to recover the Book of Realms,” she said firmly, her eyes challenging him.
“You don’t know what you are asking of me,” he hissed, rage seeping through his teeth as he spat out the words.
She paused as she felt an unexpected wave of sorrow pass through him. “Then tell me,” she whispered her hand reaching up to caress the side of his face.
He winced at her touch as he realized he was no longer able to hide anything from her. His eyes clouded over, and his shoulders slumped as his body relaxed into the fatigue that suddenly flooded through them both.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the mind-numbing sorrow flow through him again. He turned away from her, breaking the penetrating stare and the unexplainable hold, he had over her. She stood silently against the wall suddenly aware of how cold the stone was, its chill seeping into her skin through her thin shirt.
Seconds passed into minutes as she stood immobile against the wall watching him.
The air in the cavern was stifling as the heavy silence hung between them. She was just about to speak when she heard his voice penetrate the stillness.
“I told you my parents and brother died here but what I didn’t tell you was how.”
His shoulder’s heaved as he took a long deep labored breath. “They were betrayed, betrayed by their own kind, murdered by another Warlician warrior.”
She did not speak, stunned by this revelation as she had assumed that they died in the Great War, fighting, like many other Warlicians.
His voice grew hoarse as he continued. “Not long before the end of the Great War, the ranks of the Warlician warriors were torn apart by deceit. Your ancestor, Claaven Callathian, was Commander of The Order at the time and my father, Gareth Morrighann, his second in command. Vertigan Tierney was one of The Orders sentry leaders and a man Claaven entrusted with his very life. At the time, there were rumors suggesting that some Warlician warriors were manipulating elemental magic into dark magic, however, there was never any proof as to whom it was. You see magic is neither good nor evil, it becomes such through its manifestation and if a Warlician was breaking his oath in this way, it would be considered treason. My parents must have known something was askew because during the Great War, as they were fighting the ancient evil side by side, Vertigan and two other Warlician warriors slain them both along with my brother. I witnessed the massacre, but I was too late to save them. In my grief-filled rage, I killed the other two warriors. Vertigan ran, as the rest of my sentries closed in, escaping temporarily. We searched for him for days, the destruction from the Great War providing ample coverage for his treachery. Eventually, he was caught by Claaven, brought before the tribunal and sentenced to death. Claaven spared his life, but the trust was shattered. His punishment reflected that. Claaven banished Vertigan to the new world, your earth, where he was stripped of his magic and sentenced to live a mortal life. To my knowledge, no one ever heard from him again.”
He stopped speaking and turned to look at her, his eyes glossed with the memory of his families’ deaths. Her heart ached, but she remained silent for fear of interrupting his confession.
“There were whispers that dark magic existed in the Dead Lands, but no one knew for sure. The Great War was over. The time of the Thanissia Universe was coming to an end. The war had taken its toll on all of us. Claaven never spoke of Vertigan again and I never found out the truth as to why he killed my family. Claaven saved my life more than once during battle so after his death I honored his memory by staying here to protect the magic and his legacy. I stayed—waiting for you.”
His eyes softened as he whispered the last three words.
Her heart aching, she walked quickly to where he stood, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looking deeply into his sorrow-filled eyes. She kissed his lips, her fingers finding their way into his long hair. She felt him tense under her touch as if he just realized he had shown her his greatest weakness. His hands reached up to her waist pushing her gently away as his demeanor shifted back to the strong, confident warrior.
“The etchings on the cavern walls that were revealed during my incantation to retrieve the Book of Realms are dark magic. It confirms my suspicions that dark magic was practiced here and that my parents died because of it. The elders had to have known this, it must be the reason they chose this specific spot to hide the Book of Realms. They hid it with light magic that in turn would be hidden behind the dark magic that already existed in this space.”
His eyes opened wide as another realization slammed into him, “It must also be the reason they chose the Dead Lands as the place to capture the ancient evil, they used dark magic against it.”
Suddenly, it all made sense to him, his parents must have found out about these caverns and the dark magic that Vertigan was practicing here. He killed them to keep his secret, but they must have already revealed what they knew to the high council and Claaven. As the realms were facing extinction, the elders must have used the dark magic to ensnare the ancient dark. Dark magic is unstable but strong and the ancient dark would not have expected it. It must be how they were able to defeat an entity much older than their magic. His parents had died, but their knowledge and sacrifice saved the realms from complete destruction.
He looked deeply into her eyes, a flicker of sadness still lingering in them. “I think I have always assumed, deep down, that my parent’s murders bore the stain of dark magic, even though the existence of such magic was ever only a rumor. When I was confronted with its presence in the cavern room, it all became too real, and overwhelming. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She smiled, gently moving closer and standing on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she whispered back, her hand gently resting on his shoulder, the other hand holding his.
He pulled her in close, his hand snaking around her lower back, catching her off balance as she fell forward into him. Releasing his grip on her other hand, he cupped the back of her head, holding her gently against his chest.
His leather vest was cool against her cheek and through it,
she could hear his heartbeat, a steady rhythmic thumping that seemed amplified by the damp coolness of the stone caverns. The late day sun beat down from above, bathing them in a column of bright sunlight. He kissed the top of her head as she closed her eyes listening as the beating of his heart fell into rhythm with her own.
Chapter 31
Rafe lifted the torch higher, its flickering orange flame casting irregular shadows along the cave walls as it doused the area in a soft warm glow. He had discovered the hiding place of the Book of Realms by reversing the ancient concealment spell and now he stood in the small room quietly watching as Dane studied the massive tome.
The book lay on a thick stone pedestal, its worn leather cover concealed by a heavy layer of dust and cobwebs. As she wiped the debris gently from its surface, he could see that the edges of its pages were yellowed and tattered with age. The thick spine was covered with tarnished metal its center emblazoned with delicate Celtic etchings.
He stood very still, his breathing syncing up with her as she listened intently to the old tome, its magic revealing the secrets contained within its pages. The book was very powerful, and he could feel that it sensed her presence, the archaic magic curious but cautious.
The Book of Realms was the keeper of all the knowledge in the Thanissia Universe, infused with the ancient magic of each of the races. It was a powerful weapon in the right hands, in the wrong hands it could mean—the end of days.
As he watched her magically bond with the ancient manuscript, he felt a new energy weave its magical essence around him. He could sense the ancestral ghosts that whispered to her, their long-forgotten voices once again activated by the awakening of their world. It was a most surreal feeling, this binding connection he shared with her. In this moment when all her senses were alert and active and the ancient magic energized every fiber of her being, it was as if he no longer had control over his own.