Greenstone

by C E Johnson

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t help your brother as I should have.” Keaton’s words were quiet and filled with sadness.

  Could this be the betrayal Hadrian spoke of? Emily wondered. Her head was beginning to throb. “Contact me when you and the Alitis have made your choice.”

  Keaton inclined his head and ended the link.

  Do you think Keaton betrayed Hadrian? Emily questioned her bondsmates.

  He wants to protect his people, Xena answered. I don’t see his indecision as a betrayal.

  The Alitis are a powerful force. Ammolite sounded worried. I hope they’re not going to commit to Samil.

  Emily dream-linked with Claire next. As she came into view, Emily studied her friend who had aged with a graceful elegance. Her powerful blue aura was vaguely darkened by black at the edges, similar to Cameron’s aura. She was on a beach, at a point where a wide stream came plunging into the sea.

  “Emily, you’ve returned,” Claire gushed with tears forming at the corners of her brown eyes. The glints of gold in her irises glimmered with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much. How are you and how is Xena? I can’t believe you haven’t aged.” Claire began to fiddle with her long hair, with white tendrils now overtaking her blonde undertones.

  “Xena’s well and I’m happy to be back on the mainland. How’s Pearl?”

  “Pearl’s wonderful.” Claire gestured to her seal bondsmate who was swimming in the water where the stream met the ocean. “I still live on the island Aquate, where I went after you left.” Claire stared at Emily, shaking her head slowly back and forth. “I’m so jealous that you haven’t changed at all. I wish I had a few drops of a potion that could restore my youth.” Emily laughed warmly at her words.

  Ask her about Samil, Ammolite urged.

  “I’ve heard Samil has returned to the Island of Bashan,” Emily began hesitantly. “Aquate is close to Bashan. Has he found you?”

  Claire’s eyes widened, and she looked around her worriedly as she spoke in a lower tone, her face sagging with concern. “He knows where I am, but he doesn’t really bother me anymore.” Her face flushed slightly. “I’ve negotiated with him many times, and I guess you could say we have an uneasy truce right now.”

  She seems uncomfortable talking about Samil, Xena observed.

  Encourage her to fight with you, Ammolite suggested.

  “I’ve returned to find there’s a battle forming that will involve the dragons and Samil,” Emily began, wondering how to convince Claire to side with her. “I fear I’m going to meet up with him once again, and I don’t think he’ll let me escape this time.”

  “There’s no way he’ll let you escape this time,” Claire murmured so quietly Emily had to strain to hear her. “His hate against you fuels his fire. I knew this day would come, but I’m too old for battle, or I’d be there with you to help shove magus-fire down his throat once and for all.” Claire fixed her gaze on Emily, her eyes burned with a spirited anger. “Perhaps you can tell me your plans, and I can help advise you. I know his methods and his techniques.”

  “I’d welcome your advice, but I haven’t made any plans yet.” Emily hated hiding information from Claire.

  Don’t reveal anything that might jeopardize us, Xena spoke in a protective tone.

  Ask about Hadrian, Ammolite whispered, I want to see how she responds.

  “Have you seen my brother, Hadrian?” Emily studied Claire as she answered.

  Claire nodded hesitantly. “I’ve seen him. He wanted help from me to get close to Samil, and I helped him for a time, but he disappeared recently.” Her eyes brimmed with tears and she spoke in a rush. “I fear Samil discovered what he was doing and has imprisoned him.”

  Emily nodded unhappily. “I think you’re right.” She brought up Claire’s aura once again. “I see more black at the edge of your aura.” Emily broached the topic cautiously.

  Claire leaned away from Emily slightly. The waves were lapping at her feet, and a gull wheeled over her head. “You’ve always been such a talented magician.” She licked her lips nervously. “Cameron taught me many secrets about contacting Ater… Cameron has become very good at hiding what he’s doing.” Pearl emerged from the water, her muzzle dripping from the sea. She looked more like a silvery gray dog than a seal. “He showed me ways to use the dark arts to gain advice to try and hide from Samil.” She rubbed her eyes, tiredly. “At times his methods work, but I’m not as good as Cameron at hiding my true intentions. It seems that if Samil wants to find me, he can always find me.” Her expression grew hard and she changed the topic. “Where are you now?”

  Emily desperately wanted to tell her friend where she was.

  Do not, Xena warned.

  “I’m hiding like Cameron. I haven’t decided what to do or where to go, but I’ll contact you when I’ve made a decision.”

  “Thank you, my friend.” Claire leaned into her seal bondsmate. She set her chin in sudden determination. “I’ll let you know what I find out concerning Hadrian.” She ended the link.

  Emily sat and thought for several minutes, going through each conversation. Any of my friends could have become allies with Samil for many different reasons.

  We’ll have to watch each of them closely, Xena said.

  Ammolite added to Emily’s thoughts. Each of your friends has reasons to side with Samil, but I don’t sense deep evil in any of them. Just be careful what you reveal. I believe your brother truly believes he was betrayed.

  Emily rose from her bed and ran her hands along items on the shelves in her room, searching for comfort in the familiar touch of her old possessions. She first evaluated her black bow, Storm. As she ran her index finger along its ornate gold scroll, she felt a growing sense of ease, countering the dull ache in her mind. She cast a spell to restore the string, whispering defigere, one of the spells she learned on Bashan. She watched the old strings strengthen and increase in flexibility as faint blue magus washed over the bowstrings. Memories of her battle with the yapok flooded through her mind, as she looked through her quiver with its silver and redstone tipped arrows. She pulled out her shield, Soulshielder, made from the old dragon-scales of Ladon, pitted and scarred from the awesome multi-pronged attack of Tiamat. She put on her favorite leather and metal armor, again strengthening the fibers with her spells of enchantment.

  Let’s go outside, Xena suggested from the doorway. Her words pulled Emily out of her reverie. The two walked together down one of the stone passageways toward Emily’s favorite exit from the Castle Cave. Scattered magus-candles sprang to life along the long smooth tunnel that led to a stone door that was sealed with a bar of steel. Emily stood before the door for a moment, still as a statue, bathed in an expectant silence, listening. She heard only birds singing, and she lifted the bar with her heightened strength and opened the door, instantly warmed by the shafts of sunlight that burst into the passageway. Stepping into the adjacent grass-covered field, she was stunned by the growth in the trees that lined the edge of the large plateau. The grassy plain angled downward allowing her to gaze out over the hills and valleys of Acacia.

  Wonderful scents, Xena mused happily while sending a flood of smells to Emily: fresh clean air, pine, woods, leaves, and grass.

  This was Emily’s favorite time of the day, the early morning, when there was peace in the world. Taking off her boots, she enjoyed the heightened feeling of the dew on her feet. She stepped out in the field barefoot, letting the colors, smells, sensations, and sounds wash over her. When she reached the center of the field, she sat on the ground and released many of the filters on her heightened senses. Xena snuggled close to Emily, her black coat already feeling warm in the sun, and Emily laid her head on her heated black bondsmate-pillow. Closing her eyes, she focused on her hearing. Noises danced in her mind—birds were flying in the drafts and animals walked through the woods. She reached out through her mind-link, and she could sense Ammolite hunting in a nearby valley. Her dragon was pleased to be the focus of her bondsmates’ attention, and she l
et Emily and Xena fully enter her mind as she scanned the terrain.

  I’m hunting, little ones. I’ll be back to see you soon. Ammolite shut off the link to Emily when she went in for a kill. Xena liked the thought of the hunt and ran off to the edge of the plateau to watch her dragon bondsmate in action. Emily could tell Ammolite continued to share the attack with Xena.

  Emily eventually sat up, stretching as she prepared to go through her tai chi workout. She started the exercise slowly and then increased her velocity as she went through the routine. Your father is approaching, her ki informed her while she trained. As she continued her workout, Dr. D emerged from the passageway. Wordlessly he began performing similar patterns next to her, mirroring her movements. Both were flowing through postures as if they were in a gentle dance, swaying with nature in the warm breeze. Emily felt her stress wash away as mental toxins were drawn out of her system. Her heart beat steadily and her blood cascaded through her arteries and veins in a gentle, but steady rhythm. The quicker she moved, the better she felt with her balance and coordination. She became so focused on her drill that she barely noticed her dragon landing above the passageway on the hill, watching her with curiosity. Xena, meanwhile, dashed across the field at a full heightened speed to meet with Ammolite.

  Good to see you, my little sister, Emily heard Ammolite project to Xena while dropping a portion of her kill for her Doberman bondsmate. Ammolite advanced to stand close to Emily. “I enjoy watching your movements and I can feel the peace growing within both of you. Do you think there are movements a dragon could do to achieve the same effect?”

  “I think we will invent tai chi for dragons,” Emily laughed. “Tomorrow Father and I will think over some motions for you. We’ll try something.”

  “Nice to go through the old routine.” Her father bent over and stretched by touching his toes. “I’ve skipped my morning workouts for a while. Good to have a partner to get a little more focused again.”

  Emily went to her father and gave him a hug. She then walked over to Ammolite and threw her arms around the stunning dragon’s neck. “Good to see and touch you, my bondsmate.” Like an ink wash painting, blue and violet colors erupted from the dragon’s scales.

  You need to go inside and talk with your friends. They’re making an interesting decision, Ammolite informed her.

  C H A P T E R 1 8

  Malachi

  Malachi Hughes was awake, but he kept his amber eyes tightly closed. He was sitting in a padded leather chair at his desk in his room in the White House. He calmed his mind, pulled his magus, and cast an incantation, letting the magic flow to discover where his father was. The answer came to him rapidly: The President was in his office on the phone; he was supposed to come upstairs after a call with a Blacksky representative. Malachi wanted to go talk to Ater to talk with Drogor, but he had to get information from his father first. This was a bargain that he had made with Drogor, and bargains with the wraith couldn’t be broken.

  Malachi felt the usual weakening after casting his spell, leaving him confused and dizzy. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that shielding his vision might slow the turmoil engulfing his brain. His mind was undergoing more extensive changes lately as his magic was strengthening. His father was worried about him, and had put more funds towards an initiative called the Stargate Project to attempt to find others who had mental powers or who could do what Malachi could do. Malachi could talk to dead spirits.

  Malachi rolled his blackstone through his fingers. The stone was a firm link to his world of magic, a doorway into the unknown. The smooth surface of the magestone whispered to him of scores of mysteries that he had yet to uncover. While he waited for his father, he thought back to the time he discovered his stone.

  * * *

  “Are you okay, son?” Warmth and tenderness were infused in the President’s words, but he was unable to hide the concern in his voice.

  His father was seated across from him with a furrowed brow. His salt and pepper hair was receding further toward the crown of his head. “I’m okay, Dad. Just that weird feeling I’ve been having lately.”

  “Vertigo?”

  “Yeah, the whole world is spinning. When will we land?” Malachi looked out the window of the helicopter he was flying in. Everything below was an orderly patchwork tapestry of creams and browns.

  “Soon.” His father ruffled Malachi’s black hair. “Have you talked to any new wraith-spirits lately?”

  Malachi was surprised at how easily his father had accepted his abilities. Learning information no one else could know, Malachi first drew his father’s attention upon conversing with a dead relative of the President’s, but once Malachi discovered information about a terrorist cell, the President became obsessed with the world of Ater. “No,” Malachi answered, shaking his head from side to side. “I feel so tired after I talk to the wraiths. They’re calling to me, but I’m going to take a break for a while.” He hated lying about his weakness, but he had to try and get his father to stop asking about the magical world.

  “Maybe this trip will take your mind off things.” His father moved his hand, putting it on Malachi’s shoulder. They were flying in a Presidential White Hawk helicopter, known by its call-sign, Marine One, to view an area in New Mexico where a large asteroid had impacted the Earth.

  “Why are we headed out here, Dad?” Malachi studied the tall spires of rocks extending from the bottoms of great basins of land. There were scattered valleys that looked etched and broken, with plateaus rising and falling in weathered formations of wrinkled brown stone.

  “We need a little father-son time. Besides, I’m fascinated by these types of events and I want to see it first-hand.” His father gave him a wink. “Maybe we’ll find an alien.”

  The helicopter landed in a swirl of debris with flying sand and dust devils rotating away from their position. They listened to a quick briefing led by secret-service agents. They were about forty miles southwest of Santa Fe in an area known as the Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument. A volcano had erupted here six to seven million years ago, and the land had a unique appearance.

  Malachi and his father walked together after the briefing in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company. Malachi treasured moments like this. “Look,” the President gestured toward several smooth tapering columns of stone, “they’re called hoodoos.”

  “This is a pretty cool place.” Malachi picked up a stone and threw it as far as he could. The rock clattered over a drop-off, rattling and clanking as it fell to the ground below.

  His father pointed to another formation where rocks were sitting on a cylinder of stone, like flames on a candle stick. “Maybe an alien created that artwork.”

  Malachi gave his father a big smile, shaking his head in amusement. They continued toward the center of the impact site. A separate team of secret service agents were scattered loosely around the two, guns bulging under their jackets. The President leaned down and picked up two objects. He handed one to Malachi. “Take a look at this.” Malachi stared at a small piece of rounded glass that shimmered in the sun like liquid. He ran his fingers over the smooth object, coal black, but almost transparent. “It’s a piece of obsidian, volcanic glass, made by rapid cooling after an eruption long ago. It’s known as ‘Apache Tears.’” The President said as he set his piece of glass back down. “We should probably leave it here.”

  “Why do they call it Apache Tears?” Malachi asked. He felt reluctant to leave it. A gust of air abruptly swirled around him and Malachi thought he could hear voices whispering to him in the wind.

  “There’s an old Native American legend that tells of members of a tribe jumping from a cliff to their death instead of surrendering to the Cavalry in an ancient battle,” the President answered. “The women of the tribe cried tears of sadness that turned into this glass when it touched the ground.” His father moved along.

  Malachi delayed, staring at the stone. Without warning a wraith-spirit came to him. Occasionally, strong ghosts
could escape the world of Ater and appear to him on Earth. He stared at the apparition, barely able to make out the hazy eyes of an elderly grieving widow in the smoky form. The woman whispered, “Your magestone is here.” She pointed to a distant area, before disappearing. Malachi felt the world spin around him once again, and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

  Although the wraiths no longer made his blood turn to ice, they still left him filled with a nervous electricity. He dropped the glass back to the ground. The air became still, and his throat felt dry, but he felt excited. He wanted to find the magestone. “I feel like we’re on a treasure hunt,” he called to his father. Even though he couldn’t totally block out the disorder in his mind, he was glad he had come. “Can I go look over there?” He nodded toward the region where the wraith had gestured.

  His father laughed, and Malachi knew his father was happy to see him in a good mood. “Go explore a little.” The President gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Watch out for snakes.”

  The sun was high in the deep blue sky when Malachi began to scout an area by the periphery of the asteroid impact zone. The rocks around him were heating up, and he felt dry and flushed. All at once, he noticed a faint black glow ahead of him. His heart fluttered rapidly, and he closed the distance to the source of the aura while sweat streamed into his eyes. Blinking in astonishment, he suddenly realized the glow was coming from a rock, but this one wasn’t obsidian. This was a black trillion shaped stone that was embedded in the earth. Reaching out, he hesitantly touched its smooth surface. It was cold against his hot skin. Blackstone, rang out in his mind from his ki, and he instantly knew it possessed both energy and power. A rush of magus washed over his body in a burst of pure exhilaration, and he yearned to go to Ater to ask Drogor what was the significance of the object. Snatching if from the earth, he ran back toward his father. “Look at this!” Proudly, he held up his blackstone.