“Aye.”
As we sat in silence, I reached up to fidget with my pendant for comfort and grounding. Only, it wasn’t there. Frantically, I looked around on the floor even though I knew it wouldn’t be there either.
“What’s wrong?” Ruman asked.
“Grams’ pendant. It’s gone.” My mouth went dry and my heart thudded against my ribs.
“Hmm . . . we certainly need to find that.”
His words came across as strange and I squinted in his direction, brow furrowed.
“I’m sure you didn’t know, but though your grandmother passed it on to you, it was given to her by your father for safe keeping until you were of age. It holds a great deal of power of its own accord. When combined with your inherent talents, well . . . the sky is the limit, as they say.”
If a military tank had been sitting on my chest, I would have been able to breathe easier. “I have so many questions right now.” I closed my eyes and focused on the air entering my lungs. Then I pushed it out in a slow, controlled sequence. I couldn’t get wrapped up in the noise. “Okay . . . I need t’ focus. I might get pulled out of here without notice. So, let me take a minute and prioritize my questions. Because let’s not forget, I’m probably bound and gagged in some wacko’s trunk right now. So, I’m going t’ need some information that helps with that first.”
“Fair point. Ask away. I’ll give you what I can.”
“Is there a way I can plug int’ this untapped power ya say I have?”
“I believe you experienced some of it already. You mentioned you received visions when Cian shared his memories with you. His energy supercharges yours, for lack of a better term. It happens with sou— . . . with certain people. It’s like he’s a conduit, but you are the same for him. It’s a mutually beneficial connection.”
“So, just being near him causes it?”
“Once you fully open yourself to accept the connection, you won’t even need to be in close proximity. It will manifest itself. Until then, yes, you need to be near him.”
“You said there was more I should know about Davar Magén in relation t’ me. What is that more?”
“They are of a parallel bloodline to that of your father. Equal, but not the same. I realize it doesn’t explain it fully, but that is all I can say for the time. I do hope you are able to understand what I’m telling you.” He raised both eyebrows and twisted his mouth to one side.
I nodded in response. I understood he was trying to tell me things without actually telling me things. I just needed to figure out how those things fit together. Essentially, what I got out of that was I don’t need to be weirded out over kissing Cian. He is not related to me. I’m sure there’s more; I’ll get back to it.
“Next question . . . and the most important. How do I save Cian? If the Tartaros Blade comes in t’ play, how do I stop that?” I flinched as the scene flashed in my head again.
He exhaled and leaned on the table with his elbows. “I do not know. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing?” I pressed. “You’re telling me this evil blade was forged in hellfire and there is no yin t’ the yang? No way t’ fight it?”
“This blade has existed since the beginning of humanity. The legend surrounding it has never proven to be true.”
“Well, I’ll take what I can get. What is the legend?”
“There is said to be a stone, the Hébel Stone, that fits into the hilt of the blade. Only, no one knows what the Hébel Stone is, only that it bears the Mark of Cain. No one has ever seen it. It is purely a legend.”
After Ruman finished sharing what little he knew of the Hébel Stone, I took in everything he could tell me about the Tartaros Blade. Then he moved on to the Kanna Stone and also gave me some history about the Lunar Ruins and how they were connected to my pendant. Turns out, the Lunar Ruins were once the home to several silver mines. Silver mined from the ruins held certain magical properties. It was referred to as Moon Silver, and two other such mines existed in the world, though Ruman did not disclose those locations. According to him, Moon Silver was the main ingredient in the ink used in not only the journals I had come across but also many other writings and artifacts. The more Moon Silver used, the more transparent the ink would appear . . . or not appear. My pendant had been forged with pure Moon Silver—and another ingredient Ruman would not name—and for this reason the two interacted when they came together resulting in my ability to read the hidden text.
As I listened, my mind boggled at how so many separate occurrences, that didn’t appear to be related, all seemed to be coming together and intertwining. I heard Cian in my head telling me there were no such things as coincidences, and one corner of my mouth lifted.
“What’s that smile about?” Ruman asked.
“Just thinking about how everything is connected.”
“That it is. More than most will every realize . . . You know, Aisling . . . if there were something I could do to help you out there,” he tossed his head slightly to indicate beyond the dream realm, “I would.”
“And I appreciate that, Ruman.”
“Just remember this . . . everything you need to overcome any obstacle, any situation, any threat of harm . . . you have more than enough power flowing through you.”
“Heavenly bloodline? Was that translation accurate?”
A slow nod was all he offered, as if he would be crossing a line to say it aloud.
“I think I understand,” I informed him.
“Does that mean Cian is—”
I didn’t get to finish my question. I was jarred awake by the vehement bouncing of tires over rough terrain.
Twenty-Five
One hard jolt lurched my head back, slamming my skull against the surface behind me. After several rapid blinks, light seeped in, and my surroundings blurred into motion. Rather than coming into focus, everything remained blurred. Instinctively, I tried to flick my wrist and do something about my current situation. No dice. My hands were bound behind me and tingled from the lack of blood.
When the blurs around me began to take shape, I realized I was tied up in the back seat of an SUV. Presumably the one I had seen in my driveway the night before. The one I had thought belonged to Cian. With the driver’s seat in front of me, my focus went straight to the man in the front passenger’s seat—Doppelgänger Cian. I began to reorient just as we hit another off-roader’s dream that tossed me against the door. But hey, at least they had the decency to fasten my seatbelt. Safety first, right? If my eyes had been working properly, I would have rolled them.
“Ugh. That’s goin’ t’ leave a bruise,” I mumbled.
Doppelgänger Cian glanced back at me then to the driver. “She’s awake.”
“Nice job, Captain Obvious,” I whispered. Yeah, he was a genius, that one.
A cold stare met me in the rearview, but the person it belonged to didn’t speak. Between the limited view the mirror offered and my head still being fuzzy, I wasn’t sure if there was something familiar about him or I was still groggy from the toxic magic.
Light peeked over a range of mountains to my right, so I gathered we were heading north. The angle of the light told me it was just before noon which meant I’d been out for quite some time. Whatever they had hit me with, it was some seriously powerful magic.
“So, what’s our next stop, guys?”
Doppelgänger Cian side-eyed the driver then shot me a quick look, otherwise ignoring me. He was clearly not in charge here. He was also blocked from my Soul Sight. So, I had to assume he, too, was a member of the Davar Magén team—second string. Whatever artifact he was using to change his appearance, it clearly didn’t duplicate any of Cian’s other qualities.
I glanced down and realized Grams’ pendant was gone, just as it had been in my dream, and I immediately began my accusation. “If anything happens to my grandmother’s necklace, you will both wish you’d never touched it.” I admit it was big talk from someone tied up and unable to eve
n wag an accusatory finger.
The cold stare of the driver narrowed in the rearview, and Doppelgänger Cian jerked his head to glare at me. “I don’t know anything about a necklace. You?” He’d directed his question to the driver. Driver shook his head and Doppelgänger Cian returned his attention to me. “Ain’t nobody got your necklace. Pipe down.” Libby was right, as usual; this guy definitely wasn’t Irish.
I refocused and mentally retraced my steps from the night before. I’d taken it off to read the pages, and it was in my hand when I opened the front door . . . which meant I’d probably dropped it somewhere between where I stood when I blacked out and the SUV. I said a silent prayer that Cian had found it.
Cian.
He was probably worried. Between him and Uncle Lachlan, they had likely organized an all-out manhunt by now. But judging from the scenery passing by, I didn’t know how they would be able to track me if Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum up there had been smart enough to leave my phone at the cottage or, even smarter, and dumped it somewhere.
When we hit the next rough patch, I noticed the sound of something bouncing around in the back of the SUV. Glancing awkwardly over my shoulder, I saw all of the research books Cian and I had checked out of the Keeper archives strewn throughout the cargo area along with a backpack filled with who knew what, a cooler, some rope, a shovel, and . . . a camera bag. A camera bag that I had seen in the archives. I shifted my focus back to the man in the driver’s seat and began to weave the information together.
“So, Kage, pal” I started, staring in the rearview to judge his reaction. “Ya know, I might have been up for a road trip if ya had jus’ asked nicely.”
Despite some reservations, I had trusted Cian and thought Kage was one of the good guys. For a split second, the skeptic within wondered if I’d read Cian wrong and he was actually playing for the other team. But I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had arrived.
Kage was smarter than Doppelgänger Cian, that was evident by the lack of speaking up to that point. But apparently not smart enough that he could do whatever it was he had planned without my help.
“Didn’t really think I was your type, blondie,” he shot back.
“First of all, white and blonde are not the same. Second, is that why ya brought him along?” I jarred my head toward the passenger peeling a label from a drink bottle like an eight-year-old. “I prefer my men with a lit’l more upstairs. Most women do. In case ya need t’ know for the next time ya try this surprise blind date thing.”
He actually snickered. At least he had a sense of humor.
“For real though, what is so important that ya had t’ give me a slammin’ headache? You have access to the same information in the archives I do. What gives? Also . . . I’m hungry. Not gonna be any good if I don’t have my strength. And I could use a bathroom break.” I had no idea what Kage had in store for me, but one of my first trainings at Natra taught the different tactics for dealing with hostage situations. One tactic came instantly to mind—be friendly, try to establish a relationship. They’re less likely to kill you if they kind of like you or respect you. Hopefully, killing me wasn’t part of the end game, but I preferred to increase my odds of survival however possible.
Doppelgänger Cian piped in before Kage could reply. “I’m a little hungry too. We still have about an hour and there’s snacks in the cooler.”
Annoyance. That’s the only word to describe the expression Kage shot sideways at Doppelgänger Cian. I pulled my lips tightly into my mouth to stifle my amusement.
“If you want a snack, climb in the back and get it. Otherwise, you can both hold out an hour until we get there.” Kage never took his eyes off the twisting gravel road.
Doppelgänger Cian moved a map from his lap to the dashboard. When he did, I saw the notes Cian had written down from Uncle Lachlan the night before, and this little hostage excursion made a bit more sense. It also gave me a place to start the questioning process.
“So, Kage, we have an hour. Why don’t you tell me why finding the Kanna Stone is important to you?” Now that I was fairly certain he wasn’t going to kill me, rule number one in any hostage negotiation—let’s face it, that’s what this was—is get them to tell you their side of the story. Granted, I was both hostage and negotiator, but let’s not get bogged down on the details. I needed him to start talking.
After a moment of hesitation, he relented. I mean, every bad guy likes a good monologue, right?
“It’s important to me for the same reason it should be important to you. Bloodlines. We descend from the purest of bloodlines. Through the ages, the bloodlines have been contaminated. I intend to use the Kanna Stone to rectify the damage,” Kage explained.
The way he said it would have made a politician proud. He stated the problem, announced that the problem should upset me—you know, for guilt trip reasons, and swept in with his intention to correct the problem. However, the genius had recently kidnapped me, and that alone ruined his credibility. Add the fact that I didn’t believe his intentions were even a teensy bit honorable, and I was suddenly in a position that would put that hostage negotiation training to a very real test. He hadn’t said it outright, but I was certain he didn’t mean there was some crazy pathogen contaminating the bloodlines and he wanted to use the stone for its healing power. Not even close. So, time for rule number two. I had to pretend to be empathetic to his cause and try to develop a rapport in hopes that it would build a bit of trust. I needed that trust so I could create a window of opportunity to take his racist plot down. But back to the fake empathizing.
“I do like to rectify wrongs,” I stated. Which was accurate. “How is it you need my help?” See. I could sound quite empathetic when I wanted. I also opened the door for him to tell me his plan.
His eyes cut to the rearview and back to the road a few times. I knew this stage. He was trying to gauge my sincerity. After seven years of undercover work, he wasn’t going to break me in a matter of five minutes. I maintained a heartfelt expression and waited.
“I need you to translate an invocation.”
“An invocation?” I asked. “This invocation isn’t going to raise some army of the dead or start World War III, is it? Because I’m not a fan of zombies, and I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Part of that wasn’t entirely true. I am a fighter, only he doesn’t need to be reminded of that. It also might have been a little deceptive of me to bait him with the WWIII comment. I already knew, based on his reasons for wanting the Kanna Stone, that war was exactly what he had in mind.
His cheeks pushed his eyes up just enough for me to recognize his amusement. “No zombies. And I can’t imagine involving the entire world in matters of the Supernaturals.”
There was a possibility that he had no idea how out of control his plan could get. But it was still a plan to eradicate an entire group of people from existence, and that didn’t work out so well last time someone tried it. However, I didn’t intend to even give him a chance to get started. I’d die first.
“Where did the invocation come from? I’ll need to know its origins to know where to start in the translation process.”
The muscles in his shoulders tensed as he watched for my reaction. “Marom,” he said calmly.
I could only guess this was an attempt to see if I even knew what Marom was . . . or where. So, I played dumb, scrunching my nose and forehead like I’d never heard the word. “I’m not sure where that is.” Not a lie. I had no idea precisely where it was. “What language do they speak there?” I asked casually.
His shoulders fell. He bought my ruse.
“I’ll simply show it to you when we arrive,” he informed.
“Where might we be arriving?” I questioned, though I had a fairly good idea based on him having the directions that Cian had written down paperclipped to his map. He was heading for the Lunar Ruins.
“Seems to me you and Cian know that better than I do. You’re smart enough to know where we’re going,” Kage
said. Doppelgänger Cian just held up the paper and waved it around a little. The fact that he looked like Cian, which was a little weird, was precisely where the similarities ended.
Something not written on Cian’s directions—Kage needed permission to enter the ruins, them being sacred and all, and he was not invited nor of the wolf variety. I recalled Uncle Lachlan’s warning and could only wonder what awaited us.
I contemplated my situation and admired the scenery as we drove, but my thoughts were cut short. Just after we turned onto a gravel path nearly concealed by an overhang of trees, a tire blew. Kage mumbled something incoherent. Oddly, I heard Cian’s voice in my head saying that everything happens for a reason. I found myself hoping that reason might be to give me a chance to get out of my current situation. But considering my hands were literally tied and we were God knows where in the middle of the White Mountains, making a run for it wasn’t exactly a promising option. We’d been on backwoods, mountain roads since I came to. There was nothing as far as I could see other than forest. And this time of year, I’d likely freeze during the night . . . if a wild animal didn’t get me first.
In other words, I was screwed.
Unless I could get him to untie me.
Twenty-Six
Turned out, Kage was smarter than I had initially given him credit for. I’d gotten my hopes up when we stopped to change the busted tire and Kage agreed to undo my bindings so I could go do my business in the woods—who said chivalry was dead? But when I saw what he’d removed, I knew I had nothing to fight with. My hands had been bound with The Sorek Shackles. What that meant? It meant my power was being dampened. The longer you were bound by The Sorek Shackles, the longer it would take before your power returned once they were removed. If my guesstimate was close, I’d likely been wearing them for at least twelve hours.
While I knew The Sorek Shackles would dampen my Fae powers, I didn’t know they would also leave me feeling physically weak as well. But they did. I hadn’t noticed while sitting in the back of the SUV, but once I was walking through the woods, it hit me hard. I wouldn’t even be able to defend myself the old-fashioned way until my strength returned. Certainly Kage—who was looking smarter every minute—knew this or he wouldn’t have agreed to let me wander off alone while they changed the tire. For the record, I’d give it zero stars. Not a fan of feeling vulnerable.
Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) Page 20