Threads of Blood and Silk: The stone Wielder's Legacy Trilogy Book 2

by Karelynn Spacek

  “Mom you did it.” Detective Melina Kalivas strikes again.

  “It was nothing Alex. The sooner you put this to rest, the sooner you can come home.”

  “Trust me mom, I want that too. Just hang in there for a little while longer. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” The call ended.

  “You seem quite pleased. I take it your mom did more than check up on you,” Jared said, rejoining me after I hung up.

  “She found the site that we’re looking for in Greece.”

  “Then I guess the next question is when do we leave?” He was eager to take on the latest challenge that we faced on this journey. So was I. But first, we rest.

  Together Jared and I stood against our enemy, who brandished a gun to keep us compliant. Escalating demands to turn over Lapisera’s Dagger prompted a choice that would literally mean handing over the keys to the kingdom to an unworthy recipient.

  “That’s right, give me the dagger and no one gets hurt.” She shouted, beaming with arrogance.

  Jared insisted that I was more important than a hunk of metal and wood. There was always later to reclaim the dagger for ourselves. Azulyria wasn’t going anywhere.

  The woman held the dagger like it was the most precious treasure she had the honor of receiving. It would only be a matter of time before she sought its destruction, so that no one could reveal the truth and set the island nation free.

  Finger on the trigger, she aimed the gun with a gleeful smirk. “Change of plans. I can’t allow the knowledge of my involvement to exist. The two of you have to go.”

  Quick consecutive shots blasted through the air, a pair for each of us. Sharp stabs of red hot pain spread through my body, bringing me down to my knees. Jared lay next to me completely still, not breathing. I felt the chill of death pulling me under. Then there was nothing.

  The sound of my choked retching blended with the chirp of restless insects that performed their nocturnal rituals. A vision of utter failure scared me far worse than having to face another demented criminal.

  27

  Au revoir Tourony, it was lovely while it lasted. Except for the kidnapping, that was something I could have done without. No hard feelings.

  With my new aversion to flying coming back to elevate my anxiety level, I practically begged Jared to commute via train and bus to Athens. In my pocket I still carried the enchanted stone that he had given me to ease my discomfort. Wasting its powers on a travel phobia felt childish. I’d wait until I was hanging on by a thread, caught up in some life or death scenario, then and only then would I tap into the stone’s reserve.

  Current travel estimates put us at 34 hours. He wasn’t pleased. For that matter, I too thought that almost a day and a half was excessive. Comparable to clutching the armrests and fighting nausea for an entire flight, I could live with it.

  For my sake, Jared didn’t wish to add to my discomfort. A train ride across most of Europe, who wouldn’t enjoy that? The long ride left plenty of time for strategizing so that we wouldn’t walk in blindly. Access to the temple was limited to only one entrance. It would be a straightforward, easy to penetrate site, provided we weren’t followed and trapped like a couple of rats in a cage.

  The nearest train station that offered continental fares was in Paris, and gratefully a farmer stopped to let us hitch a ride in the back of his truck. He was heading into the city to deliver batches of freshly picked vegetables to the many restaurants scattered about. His generosity saved us hours of walking and further outdoor-living excursions.

  Gare du Nord resembled a palace constructed of stone and glass. Inset into the front façade, a simple clock face ticked away the seconds. Long marble staircases led down to the platforms, guiding eager travelers to a long shift at work or a new adventure. The throng of morning rush hour traffic afforded us camouflage. We could get lost in the crowd, ditching our ever persistent shadow along the way.

  Naturally I had to have the window seat. Jared didn’t argue. An attack from the exterior of the train warranted a slim possibility, but would be highly impractical. The woman that was after us could be in another car as we speak, or even across from us. Should she choose to strike, Jared would be on the front line. It’s probably why he gave in and took to sitting by the aisle. He could play the chivalrous knight if need be.

  The car we sat in vibrated with the beginnings of the engine revving up to full speed. A chiming signal sung an echoing tune, marking our departure. We glided down the track to our intended destination.

  Mannheim Germany was our first connection with a four hour layover before departing to Belarus. A cobbled town square was its crowning feature. There were cafés, souvenir shops, and quaint mom and pop boutiques. Rustic flair met modern engineering. My eyes were drawn to a fountain where several people had gathered.

  Carved stone figures seated and standing that wrapped together topped a massive block. Water streamed from spigots on all four sides into basins. Pristine and postcard ready.

  Should the need for defense arise, the square was overly spacious, with few places to take cover if a gunfight would break out. We kept to the fringes. From rooftops to billowing awnings, I scanned A-lines for movement. The woman on our tail didn’t strike me as the sniper type, it was too impersonal. I still had to be sure that she wasn’t lying in wait.

  Getting to Lapisera’s Dagger first seemed to drive her to take on an almost arrogant approach. She would want to look you in the eye while stabbing you in the gut. Bystanders caught in the foray paled in comparison to obtaining her prize. They were a means to a bitter end.

  Her actions thus far have proven as much, but if I was on the hunt, hypothetically, I would find a perch for long distance reconnaissance. Any place with a high vantage point would be optimal for becoming familiar with a given layout. On one side of Marktplatz square, a red trimmed structure rose, breaking the skyline with a domed tower. Three stories above the bustling square, a balcony like terrace wrapped around, and it would be readily accessible if you popped out one of the window panes.

  If a stealthy approach could be made, our mystery woman might be caught in the midst of trying to get the drop on us. That would be ambitious. Too many unknown variables existed, so as much as I would like to catch her in the act, exploring the tower might blow our lead. I would settle for just a glimpse, even a quick one, provided it gave a clear view of her appearance.

  Know thy enemy, that’s what I was taught. It was frustrating that she has evaded us like a ghost. Her presence was a constant thorn in our sides, yet we hadn’t been able to physically lay eyes on her, except for catching a generic feminine silhouette. It was a variable I could dwell on later. A decadent aroma swelled.

  Addictive behavior was not in my DNA. Traditional hand-made apple strudel on the other hand, could be enough to tip the scales. Damn buttery dough, it was perfection to my taste buds. I was riding on a sugar high, so much so that a nearby patron wearing a yellow rose-patterned scarf was nearly toppled over because of my exuberance. Maliya giggled from my leather backpack. She continued to find amusement from my mishaps.

  The woman had auburn hair that was perfectly coiffed to accentuate her scarf, which flapped in the breeze. Add the large sparkling sunglasses, and you might confuse her with a Hollywood starlet. She held a natural glamour that remained intact, even while dealing with my clumsy stunt.

  On initial review, we hadn’t perceived any threats. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Having conducted a successful first sweep, I thought it had deserved a reward. A charming pastry peddler was more than happy to oblige my sweet tooth. I hadn’t meant to become distracted by the tantalizing aroma of baking dough and sugared apples. My training had taught me better, yet here I was indulging on way too many calories.

  Keeping a strict perimeter near the train station, Jared and I took to pacing along the many side streets that branched off from the main square. They weaved a simple pattern that could be traversed without a map, though I would still recommend that you
use one. You know, just in case.

  I was hoping that the repeated sightings were a fluke. Same yellow rose-patterned scarf, same glitzy movie star allure. The woman I almost ran into at the strudel stand was following us. To an inexperienced novice, there might have been a logical excuse. Well I wasn’t some fresh out of school newbie, so after mirroring our leisurely pace for several blocks, her intention was clear.

  “Jared, yellow scarf, sunglasses, six o’clock,” I said.

  “Yeah, I see her. She should have chosen a less conspicuous disguise if her aim was to track us.”

  “Or she knows exactly what she’s doing and doesn’t care. At least she is smart enough to block her face, far less likely to be identified.”

  “We have about forty five minutes before we need to re-board the train. Let’s get this dealt with.” Jared said, checking his phone for the time.

  We turned down a narrow alleyway, stopping about halfway to wait. I pulled out a folded map, and motioned for Jared to share in my ruse. I gestured animatedly, feinting aggravation over getting lost.

  “I told you that we should have gone the other way.”

  “Well if you weren’t so damn distracted by that pastry stand, we wouldn’t have made a wrong turn.”

  The woman in the yellow scarf walked closer, her hand reaching into her purse. For a gun most likely, that’s what I would do to control a hostage. And here I had assumed that she wouldn’t make a move until we were closer to getting the dagger. I was wrong.

  “Whatever you say dear, come on. We’ll ask for help.” I turned to face the woman.

  “Excuse me, do you speak English? We’re lost and could use some˗˗˗” She jerked her hand out of her purse and pointed a pistol at us. A cylindrical tube was attached to the barrel. Red over there wasn’t taking any chances. A silencer would delay the discovery of our bodies and damper the sound of an assassination. No one would be wise to our sudden demise until she was long gone.

  “Stop right where you are. This wasn’t part of my plan, confronting you so soon, but I was getting impatient. Screwing on the forest floor seemed to be more important than you finding Lapisera’s Dagger. It was sickening to watch.” The woman grimaced.

  Absolute horror crossed my features. She was there, in that French forest, keeping an eye on us like some perverted stalker. Her grin only grew at my reaction. I had to take back control. A grin of my own worked its way onto my face.

  “About time you showed yourself again. I thought you had given up on chasing us,” I remarked, trying to remain nonchalant.

  “Human trash, you will show proper respect when addressing me, or I’ll blow your head off.”

  Insulting her tracking prowess wasn’t a wise move on my part. My mouth was going to get me killed one of these days. Splinters of stone and mortar brushed across our ankles from a shot aimed at my feet. A warning shot I presumed.

  “Next time, I’ll put a bullet through that pretty face of yours. The two of you are coming with me. Don’t make me say it a second time.” She said, training her gun on Jared.

  There was a breath of reluctance in her form, but why? The crazy bitch had obviously figured out by watching us that he meant something to me. Her constant monitoring had to of led to that conclusion. The reluctance she displayed seemed out of character? We had figured out that she must be a Stone Walker as well, maybe that was the catch. Threatening to shoot him didn’t sit well with her.

  How she evaded being sensed, that I still hadn’t figured out. The method, I’m guessing, probably was intertwined with some type of dark energy that went against Stone Walker law. Selfish desire outweighed decency, and nothing would stop her unless she was taken out of the equation.

  Jared raised his hands while carefully advancing. What the hell was he doing? I very much doubt that even a Stone Walker was immune to the effects of a bullet wound.

  “Jared, don’t move,” I pleaded softly.

  “Yes Jared, do listen to your pet. I would hate to have to hurt you.” A glimmer of emotion, further hesitation, pricked her warning.

  Even in the middle of a confrontation, a spark of kinship connected them. If she had to kill another Stone Walker, the repercussions most likely would send her spiraling out of control.

  So she meant it, shooting him was the last thing that she wanted to do. It was a weakness that we could exploit. He must have realized that like I had. He took another step. The woman backed up.

  Their dance bordered on becoming a stalemate, but for me it would serve as a distraction. Her entire focus was on Jared. I discreetly rummaged through my pocket. Damn it, I had nothing. Wait, Maliya could help.

  “Maliya,” I whispered. She poked her head out of my backpack, bleary ruby eyes falling on me. I think I woke her up from a nap.

  “Before you start bitching, listen to me. Can you shoot a ball of light or something at that red awning down the way?”

  “Yeah, sure I could. I wouldn’t even break a sweat.”

  “Good. Do it. If my estimate is correct, it will take out Miss Gunslinger over there, and we can make a hasty retreat.”

  “I know I should question that, but I can see that Jared is in danger and will comply with your wishes.” She would do anything for Jared.

  Maliya lined her finger up with the red awning, gave it a twirl, and a blue orb of light went flying across the alleyway. The thick draping fabric and its supports plunged to the ground, taking the scarf clad woman with it.

  I wasted no time and began to run in the opposite direction. “Come on Jared, forget her. Let’s get out of here,” I hollered.

  He fell in line with my stride. Together we made a beeline for the train station. There would only be minutes, maybe even seconds to spare.

  The final warning whistle sounded as our feet pounded against the pavement at the bottom of the stairs. Damn that was close. As far as I could tell, we weren’t followed. My gut told that wouldn’t be the last we saw of her. Unless she could teleport, we would keep the upper hand for awhile.

  She must be pissed that I thwarted her attempt at subduing us. I bet I’m at the top of her kill list. And rightfully so˗˗˗I could be a dangerous adversary.

  A departure never felt so good. Once the wheels started turning, and we were gliding down the track, then, and only then did I try to relax.

  “It looks like we ditched her for now,” I said. Jared was silent. He looked perturbed. “What is it?”

  “Her voice, it was the same woman from the garden, the one who left the white rose behind.”

  “You told me that her voice sounded familiar then, have you figured out who she is yet?”

  “No, and it isn’t from lack of trying.” I let out a low whistle.

  “It must have been a horrendous experience, if your mind refuses to let you remember her identity. My bet is on another crazy jilted ex, someone like Emily perhaps?” Since she was a human like me, that designation ruled her out.

  “It wasn’t someone like her.” He was seething.

  “You’re still awfully defensive of a woman who wanted to kill you once upon a time.”

  “I’m not defending her. I just know what I heard.”

  “Fine I’ll drop it.” For now I would cease, or at least until I was proven wrong, then I was going to go after her full force. One positive came out of this˗˗˗we knew that she had auburn hair. These days, it wasn’t a really commonplace color, so I guess it narrowed the field to some degree.

  I could tell that Jared wasn’t going to give up until he remembered. He had that look of deep concentration on his face. Several more hours on a train would give him time to think.

  Next stop was Belarus. From there we had to take a bus the rest of the way to Athens. I wasn’t the praying type, but a little divine luck would be greatly appreciated right about now.

  25 Hours Later – Athens Greece

  My jaw dropped at the magnificence of the temple ruins that crowned the Acropolis. I was touched by the feeling of coming home. This was where hal
f of my heritage originated. A deep rooted sense of pride beamed through my smile.

  There was a great chance of coming across rural dirt or gravel roads on our way to Mt. Olympus, so we opted for renting a Jeep Cherokee, a vehicle built for rough terrain or off-roading. I was eager to start the drive as soon as possible, food and rest could be postponed. Jared called in lodging arrangements and I shoved the gear into drive, the engine roaring to life.

  Halfway through Jared and I switched places. No problem there. He was an aggressive driver on par with me. We would make it to Christos Kakkalos Refuge in record time, ahead of schedule perhaps. The speedometer was in for a workout.

  Accommodations at the refuge were cozy, and that’s being polite. The sleeping quarters, if you wanted to call them that, were no more than a dozen or so mattresses placed right next to each other in a single space. Privacy did not exist. Seeing as we weren’t going be here that long, I could put up with it.

  Coming across an outhouse that was detached from the main building was no surprise. The refuge was a white stone structure perched on a hill that overlooked the mountains. It was a picturesque definition of isolation. Refueling on a home cooked meal was an added surprise.

  Sleep pulled me under with minimal effort. It could prove to be risky, letting my guard down, though I don’t think she would venture out into the wilderness to perform a sneak attack. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to get too close without one of us noticing. Then I thought of how she resurfaced almost out of thin air, and neither Jared’s natural Stone Walker senses, nor my borrowed ones had been alerted.

  She struck me as someone who was too prim and proper to have developed the stealth capabilities of a ninja. I was still banking on some other kind of supernatural interference like I had surmised earlier. I wouldn’t be caught with my pants down again. And it would be foolish to come after us with so many witnesses around.

  My fingers slid across the cool metal of the gun that was tucked under my pillow. Another unexpected visit would end with a trip to the nearest morgue if she dared to show her face here. I was through with settling on a capture and interrogation. This game had reached a point of no return, and neutralizing the target would be the way to end it once and for all.