Dark Storm

by Christine Feehan

  Riley didn’t slow down or acknowledge his concern. If she couldn’t ease the pressure in the volcano or redirect the blast, not even the archaeologist and his students would be safe. The explosion would be similar to a nuclear bomb going off, devastating everything for miles. She could hear Gary’s boots pounding up the trail after her, and then those of a second man and a third. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop them. Each one had to make their choice at this point, and hers was to try to save everyone and make a last effort to keep whatever evil thing dwelled in the volcano trapped.

  With every step she took she judged the shivering, trembling ground. How close? How much time? She had to make it as far as she could, yet still give herself time to connect with the volcano and perform the ritual. She would try to seal the evil within the mountain even as she calmed and directed the building volcanic eruption away from the travelers. She could only pray there were no other people on the other side of the mountain, because if she couldn’t stop the blast, she’d try for a smaller eruption as far from them as possible.

  The ground shook hard, the sound like a thunderclap, throwing her off balance. Gary’s hand caught her arm to steady her and they ran together, Jubal right behind them. She wished they hadn’t followed her, but a part of her was glad they had. She was fairly certain she wasn’t going to make it off the mountain alive and their presence helped to give her determination and courage. She wasn’t just fighting for herself.

  The next tremor, much stronger than the one before, lasted a long minute, warning her she had run out of time. She stopped abruptly and flung her mother’s pack on the ground. “It has to be here. We’re not where we need to be, but if we’re lucky, I can do this.”

  “We can help,” Gary said. “We’ve participated in a couple of rituals. Tell us what you need us to do.”

  Riley wasn’t going to ask how they knew what to do when she barely knew herself. There just wasn’t time, but if by some chance she managed to pull off a miracle, both men were going to answer a lot of questions. She yanked open her mother’s pack and removed a small handheld broom made of bunched willow tied tightly together. Hastily she began to sweep out a circle large enough to hold herself and the three men. She moved counterclockwise, brushing the debris free while she whispered her prayer to the four elements, calling them to her as she worked.

  Riley had seen her mother perform the ritual of holding the volcano many times, but now that it was her turn, there was so much she didn’t know. She had to undo the strands of the evil power permeating the entire volcano and weave powerful strands of her own strong enough to keep the evil contained, holding it within its own constraints, and not allowing it to go free.

  “Use the salt,” she instructed Gary. “Follow the circle. Jubal, there’s sage . . .”

  “Got it,” Jubal said. He lit the sage and walked the circle three times, cleansing the area as he chanted softly under his breath.

  “What the hell are you people doing?” Ben demanded. The ground shook continually, the tremors growing longer in duration and much stronger. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Try to catch up with Miguel and the others,” Gary said without looking up. He continued to form the circle with the salt.

  “No, whatever you’re doing, I’ll help,” Ben said. “But this is insane.”

  “Can’t you feel the evil?” Riley hissed. She could feel him now, real and powerful, coming at her in waves—his malicious triumph in the murder of her mother. He thought himself safe with her mother dead, and so far, he had no inkling she was on his trail.

  “Keep working, Riley,” Jubal said. “We’ll explain as much as we can to Ben.”

  Riley was grateful. She had to shut out everything, even the terrible urgency of the moment. She had to find a complete calm and focus if she had any chance at all against so great an evil. She gestured to the men as she stood, inviting them inside the circle of protection just constructed. Even if she was defeated, hopefully she could make this small space safe enough to shield the others.

  She walked the circle, envisioning the brightest light she could imagine, holding the black-handled, double-edged athame high. As the circle gained depth, Riley drew the quarters, setting the towers. She called to the elements. Air to the East. Fire to the South. Water to the West. Lastly, she whispered to the North, calling on Earth. Mother Earth. She forced her mind to concentrate on protections and block out the men moving around her.

  Kneeling in the middle of the circle, she plunged her hands deep into the earth, focusing wholly on binding the evil. She struck fast and hard, using every ounce of strength she possessed.

  “I bind thee darkness from doing harm.

  To myself and those whom you would charm

  I bind thee darkness to be free

  As I lock thee away for none to see.”

  Reaction was instantaneous. Shock. Fear. Rage. Insects poured through the ground and raced at the circle, surrounding them, clicking and chirping aggressively. Bats flew at them from every side, but none penetrated that sacred circle. A heavy, oppressive malevolence pressed in on them. Lightning forked across the sky, a long howling bolt, sizzling and crackling through the night to slam to earth just feet from the circle. Next came a series of fireballs pounding down like a meteor strike as evil fought back.

  Ben started to run, but Gary and Jubal both caught at him, holding him motionless.

  “Don’t leave the circle. This is the only safe place right now,” Gary warned.

  “And don’t draw attention to yourself,” Jubal added in a whisper. “It’s fighting for its life. Either she can hold it inside the volcano or it will be loose on the world, and you saw just a little of what it can do from a distance. You don’t want that creature interested in you.”

  Riley ignored them, barely aware of their presence. Without warning something moved against her throat, inside her body. Fangs ripped at her. Burning acid choked her. Claws wrapped in pure hatred raked at her. This was the creature who had murdered her mother, and it was fully aware of her now, and centering its attention on her.

  She refused to allow loathing into her mind. This was her duty, her job. There could be no malice—she couldn’t give him a way to enter her mind. Illusion was his game, but she was stronger.

  Riley refused to give in to the need to touch her throat, to feel if the blood pouring out was real or not. She whispered another soft chant to chain the evil entity inside.

  “I draw upon thee light, surround me with your might

  Set this evil in the ground, keep me safe from that which seeks to harm

  Find the sender, track him back, let the darkness return his attack

  Let the fuse be short burning bright, let his evil fall short this night.”

  The evil entity pushed back hard, striking again and again at her throat. Raw. Burning. Torn open. Her breath barely pushed through her shredded vocal cords, the gaping jugular pouring out blood, soaking her clothing, splashing into the ground.

  “Find him. Bind him. Hold evil chained.

  Forged in fire. Hewn in rock.”

  The earth whispered to her. Assured and comforted her. Riley kept her hands buried deep in the soil, fingers curled into tight fists, holding that evil thing captured, refusing to let loose, no matter how he struggled, twisted and turned, no matter how he stabbed at her, trying to tear out her insides. Pain burst through her like a star, and she knew if she looked down she would see that her stomach had ripped open, her lifeblood pouring out onto the ground.

  “I call upon spirit and earth. Create a cocoon from which there is no birth.

  Fit this space with black crystalline, to encompass this evil, to hold and bind.”

  Arabejila. Emni hän ku köd alte. Tõdak a ho caóasz engemko, kutenken caóasz engemko a jälleen. Andak a irgalomet terád it
.

  The voice filled her mind. Turned her blood to ice. Riley forced her fear down. She was in the circle of protection. She refused to be intimidated.

  With effort, she managed to push aside her fear and concentrate on the words he’d spoken. He’d spoken her ancestor’s name. She didn’t understand the rest of the words, but instantly recognized the language as the same the porter had mumbled to himself over and over. This evil entity knew her—or, more likely, her ancestor—and believed she was still alive. That realization gave her an important bit of knowledge she hadn’t possessed before. Whoever—whatever—this evil entity was, he wasn’t all powerful and he made mistakes. Moreover . . . alongside the threat in his voice, she heard fear. He feared Arabejila. Considering that she was the one who’d locked him in the volcano and kept him there for centuries, that made perfect sense. In fact, she might even be the only thing he did fear.

  If the evil entity feared Arabejila, that meant he had reason to fear her and that meant he was vulnerable in some way. She took another deep breath and locked on to him, curling her fists tighter to hold him prisoner.

  Another tremor jolted the mountain hard, throwing the men off their feet. With her hands plunged so deep in the soil, Riley felt the rising of the volcano. The blast would blow the top of the mountain away and flatten everything for miles. No one would be safe, not even the archaeologist and porters who had taken off earlier. They’d be caught as well as every animal and tribesman within miles. She had no choice but to try to calm the powerful force, and failing that, turn it away from them, redirect the blast if at all possible.

  “Fire flame, show your light

  Burning bright within my sight

  Brightness burn deep within

  So I may see where to begin

  Bring me light as fire burns

  So I may bind it with twists and turns.”

  She chanted the words softly, eloquently, her hands deep in the soil, stroking and calming the ground, easing her way into the churning mass of gases and molten rock.

  “We have to get out of here,” Ben shouted. “Right now. This thing is going to blow.”

  Jubal and Gary kept a firm grip on him, holding him within the circle.

  “You can’t outrun a volcano,” Gary pointed out. “She’s our only hope now. I have no idea how she can do it, but clearly the mountain responds to her.”

  “What the hell can she do?” Ben demanded.

  Riley ignored them, channeling power and energy into the earth. The ground shivered and shook continually, and she could actually feel a force rising.

  “Fire leads me to the light

  Guide my hand as I fight this night

  Show me how to find my fire

  So I may guide this volcanic power.”

  She wasn’t going to be able to stop the blast, but she could already feel the response to her presence. She had to use every bit of energy and power she possessed to harness the volcano, to guide it away from the others—and that meant letting go of the evil entity she held so tight. Closing her eyes, she made the decision. If they were all dead, he would escape anyway. She couldn’t do both. She abruptly pulled away, sending up a silent prayer that the binding would hold even through a volcano blast.

  She felt the instant echo of malicious glee, of taunting laughter. That failure couldn’t matter. Now, it was all about redirecting the blast and calming the volcano and preventing a catastrophic event.

  “Red like flame, amber light, diverts this fire and holds it tight

  Sword and dagger, double-headed axe, dragon’s blood hold this volcano’s blast

  Salamander who lives in fire, create a tunnel for this river of flame.”

  Ash spewed high into the air. Several vents shot steam high. Fiery rocks streaked into the air, small blowholes, as if the great mountain just had to express itself. Lightning zigzagged, great forks spreading across the sky.

  Riley held firm, refusing to flinch. “Triangle lightning, use your light to hold all powers, adding strength to their might.”

  She took another breath, closed her eyes and sent her prayer to the sky and deep into the ground. “Mother Earth, your humble daughter seeks your aid once more. You are living, breathing, ever changing in your natural state. The fire roars in you, yet your daughter pleads with you to tamp down that fire and send it far from us. The release is necessary to the growth of this world, true, but we ask for this boon.”

  It was the best she could do. Either she’d calmed the volcano enough to minimize the damage, or everyone was lost.

  Arabejila had totally deceived him. Mitro wanted to rip and tear into something warm-blooded. His rage grew as he struggled against the tight binds woven around him. She was far stronger than she’d ever been. Her touch hadn’t been hesitant at all. Throughout the years she’d seemed to decline in strength, but now she was all powerful—a force he hadn’t counted on.

  She felt different to him, but it had been centuries since he’d tasted her hot blood—and that had been his one mistake. He should have killed her outright immediately. Once he’d taken her blood, he had locked them together for all time. Even then, he thought her weak, but she wasn’t now. She hadn’t flinched or pleaded with him. She had struck hard and fast without the least bit of hesitation—something she would never have done before.

  Snarling, he gnashed his fangs together, anger and hatred feeding his strength. She hadn’t even deigned to speak to him. He was her lifemate whether she liked it or not, his possession. He could choose to keep her alive or let her die. It was his choice. He was superior and always would be.

  He struggled harder against the tight bonds. Arabejila had always had a connection to the earth, but it seemed stronger than ever. The moment she was forced to turn her attention elsewhere, he should have been able to break free, but the bindings held tight. He couldn’t move, couldn’t rise toward that barrier he’d worked so hard to thin.

  He cursed Arabejila, cursed the fact that she alone had the ability to shake him up. He should have made certain she was dead. She was the reason the hunter had found him again and again over the centuries . . . She’d trapped him here. She’d kept him here. And now she was the only thing standing between him and his triumph. She was truly the bane of his life, and if he didn’t uncoil the chains she’d placed on him fast, he would be trapped for all time.

  He renewed his efforts, concentrating on finding each strand binding him in his fiery prison. Arabejila had woven the spell tight, the earth itself adding to her weave. He had always found it utterly disgusting that all living plant life responded to her instead of him. He’d tried, in the earlier years, watching her walk through a field with flowers and plants springing up around her, to do the same, but the earth refused to speak to him. The rejection had been so total and so instantaneous, it had filled him with a loathing for all vegetation. He despised anything that would choose a weak woman over him.

  Mitro had always considered Arabejila one-dimensional—good in every way. She didn’t know how to be anything else. He studied the binding weaves chaining him inside the volcano. Those weaves told him much about his adversary. Arabejila had evolved over the centuries, just as he had evolved, and he found her much changed and more powerful because of it. More, her weaves only told him she was a force to be reckoned with, not anything personal about her. She had left no emotion behind to aid him in defeating her.

  That rankled. She was supposed to be pining away for him. Her weaves should have contained sorrow and that ridiculous, futile dash of hope she couldn’t suppress whenever they had come into contact in the past. No matter what he did, how depraved he’d become, she’d always clung to that tiny hope that she could “save” him. She’d never realized that he neither needed nor wanted to be saved. Stupid woman. He found it insulting that she thought she had the power to turn
him into a cowering rabbit like the rest of his species.

  Remembering those days, pure hatred welled up. He would destroy Arabejila in his time, but first he would have to escape. She would not defeat him, a stupid cow of a woman who thought she was special because she could make flowers grow.

  The mountain jolted hard, and he felt a subtle difference almost immediately. Arabejila had turned her full attention away from him and the weaves binding him. He fought down the urge to struggle, to panic when the explosion could happen at any moment. He narrowed his concentration to one strand of his bonds. One at a time. He would have to break through that chain in order to escape.

  Mitro tried to recall every detail he could about his recent encounter with Arabejila. He’d been shocked. Horrified even. He was so certain she was dead. She had not responded or spoken to him and he hadn’t searched her mind when he had the chance. He stayed very still, reaching out carefully. If he knew what words had bound him, he could undo the weaves quite easily. He just had to get inside her head. She was his lifemate. Her blood would answer his call, but his touch would have to be delicate.

  He tamped down all anger, not an easy feat when Arabejila was to blame for everything that had gone wrong in his life and he was already plotting to kill her and everyone she might care about. His touch on the thick weaves was very careful, seeking a tie to her. His blood stirred, but remained cold. Silence. Emptiness. There was no contact at all. If he didn’t know better, he would say she was dead.

  Puzzled, he changed tactics. The sense of urgency grew as the mountain rumbled and the gases spewed high. Below him, the gathering fiery storm threatened to break free. Abruptly he felt a difference, as if the weaves had loosened just that little bit as if she hadn’t quite set them before she turned her attention elsewhere. She’d been gripping him hard, and now, that death grip was gone.

  Triumphant, he struck hard, slashing through the weaves. They held, stronger than he expected against his all-out assault. He exerted pressure on his bonds, fighting panic, afraid his struggles might attract the attention of the hunter. Danutdaxton had become something much more as well, there in the volcano, and eluding him was essential.