The Stones of Resurrection

by Tameri Etherton

  Dazed from the blow, the assassin staggered as he circled Rhoane in the small confines of the room. Raw Shanti slithered over his skin, and he hid his surprise. The assassin either had no ShantiMari of his own or was ill trained in the power.

  “My friend,” Rhoane started, “there is no escape from this room. Put down your sword and come with us.”

  The assassin’s light eyes never flinched. He swung his sword, grinning when Rhoane missed a step and was almost cut by the gleaming black blade. Rhoane parried his thrust and then slammed the assassin against the wall. Blood seeped from a large gash on his shoulder. Fear finally sparked in the assassin’s eyes, and he pushed past Rhoane, crashing through the window to the street below. Rhoane leapt after the man, landing gracefully on the empty street. A trail of blood led toward the docks, and he set off after the assassin.

  At the street crossing, the trail split in opposite directions. He walked in a circle, trying to differentiate which to follow when Baehlon caught up with him. “You take that way—I will go this.”

  Rhoane strode down the street without waiting for a reply, keeping his eyes trained on the ground, his power stretching around him. Near the docks, the trail suddenly ended. A flash of light warned him a moment before the attack.

  He swung around, facing the assassin. They held their swords out before them, Rhoane’s godsteel gleaming in the sun, the assassin’s blade fading into shadow. The man wore a long black tunic with a wide belt around his waist. Several knives and dagger hilts protruded from the belt. One spot was empty.

  They circled each other, Rhoane intent on the man, all other sights and sounds peripheral. A sick grin spread across the assassin’s face. He leapt, his sword held a little too high. Rhoane bent low, elbowing the assassin in the ribs. He grunted and spun around, slicing his blade toward Rhoane. He countered a thrust at the man, keeping enough distance between them to avoid the deadly blade.

  By then, a crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle. The last thing he wanted was a public brawl, but there was nothing for it. He caught sight of Baehlon heading off the duke’s guard, and Rhoane let the assassin stay on the attack, hoping to expend all of his energy before going on the defensive. Each time the assassin missed his mark, Rhoane, quick as a carlix, would knock him with a kick or punch. But instead of tiring, the assassin gained strength with every passing minute. He attacked without any finesse, his cuts random, his form incomplete. Antiquated, like Kaldaar’s soldiers of old.

  Rhoane smacked his open wound, and the assassin let out a laugh that startled the crowd. Sunlight caught his golden hair, giving him a shimmering radiance that did not extend to his lifeless eyes. Hayden had said the assassin was neither alive nor dead, and yet his wound bled. Demon that he was, the assassin could kill Rhoane as certainly as he’d dispatched the boy in the market.

  Rhoane redoubled his focus, pulling his ShantiMari close in a protective shield. They crouched toward each other like animals about to pounce. Rhoane tightened his muscles in anticipation of a lunge when the assassin vaulted not toward him but away, running a few steps before jumping from a cart to a nearby rooftop. His golden locks bounced and then disappeared.

  Rhoane clenched his jaw. “Damn it, man, how does he do that?”

  “He is truly a shadow.” Baehlon cursed in the direction the assassin fled.

  Ebus ran up to them, panting. “I followed him as far as I could, but then he was gone. Not a trace—just disappeared.”

  “Thank you, Ebus.” Rhoane handed him a gold coin. “If you see him again, send word to me immediately.” To the guard, he said, “Tell only the duke what transpired here today. I do not want the princess or empress to know of it.” When they moved off to clear the crowd, he wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Blood and ashes, but it is hot today.”

  Baehlon was watching him closely. “Are you well, my friend?”

  He flexed his hand, noting the new rune that appeared. “Well enough. We must return to the palace—something has happened. I must see to Taryn.” He spoke to Ebus. “We will be leaving Paderau soon. Have you any desire to travel to Talaith?”

  “The capital city? What thief doesn’t dream of such a place? Am I to assume the prince has a job for me?”

  “I do, but I must warn you, if your fingers are caught on anyone’s purse strings, I will cut them off.”

  Ebus snort laughed, shaking his head. “If you can catch me. What is the job?”

  “Come to the east gate of the palace tomorrow morning. All will be revealed to you then. Ebus, this should go without saying, but do not speak of this to anyone.”

  The little man’s dark eyes glittered like polished obsidian. “As you wish, my liege.” He bowed gracefully to Rhoane before disappearing into the thinning crowd.

  “What the hell are you thinking, man?” Baehlon grumbled as they made their way back to the palace.

  “He is the only one who can trace this Shadow Spawn. His eyes are sharper than mine, and he is quick enough to follow the demon. We will put him in the duke’s livery, calling him your page or something, and then we will let him travel with us to Talaith. If the Shadow Assassin tries anything while we are on the road, Ebus can alert us.”

  “And help himself to the empress’s jewels while he’s at it. I don’t like this plan, my friend.”

  “I am afraid it is the best one we have right now.” The runes on his wrist swirled and shifted. “We must hurry.”

  RHOANE found Taryn sitting near the river, curled on a bench reading a book. Kaida asleep in her lap. He paused before approaching, waiting for the wave of relief to pass. For the surge of desire to lessen. The need to be near her was overwhelming.

  She looked up, her eyes lighting when she saw him. That small gesture tugged at his gut. Made his bones feel like jelly. It was no good, this power she had over him. He carefully put his emotions to the back of his thoughts. If their enemies ever knew what she meant to him, they would exploit that knowledge with deadly precision, he was sure of it.

  “Hey.” She scooted aside to allow him room. “Want to join me?”

  He sat next to her, petting Kaida absently. The grierbas pup yawned and stretched under his touch. “She is getting big.”

  “Carga says she should start on solid food soon.” Taryn patted Kaida’s pudgy belly. “I think she likes milk a little too much.”

  A boat made its way down river. Across the water was the dock where he’d fought the Shadow Assassin. Too far for an Aelan to see the fight but not for an Eleri.

  “You left my rooms in quite a rush.”

  “I was overwhelmed all of a sudden.”

  He studied her profile, committing to memory every freckle on her straight nose and the way the sun glinted off her cheekbones. Her skin shimmered slightly with her first signs of Glamour. She was becoming more Eleri with every passing day. Soon her ears would end in delicate points. That is when he’d know she was full Eleri. That is when she would no longer be his alone.

  “This is all very real, isn’t it?” She met his even look. “Carga says I need to stop being a child and embrace who I must become.”

  “Carga speaks out of passion when a level head might be more kind.”

  “No, she’s right. I’ve been acting as if this is just an elaborate game of dress-up. I’ve come to like all the tiaras and gowns and having maids who pamper me.” She scratched Kaida under her chin and then linked her fingers with Rhoane’s. “Thinking like that will only get me—or worse, someone I love—killed.” Her eyes clouded, like a sudden summer storm. “I failed today, and that can’t happen again.”

  “You were taken by surprise by an assassin. He is trained to be untraceable.”

  She held up her book. “According to this, there is a master for every Shadow Assassin. We need to find out who is controlling him.”

  “That will not be easy. Black ShantiMari is difficult to trace. Those who practice it do not want to be known.” He skimmed the pages. “Where did you get this?”

  �
�Hayden found it in the library. It has information about all the great mages and sorcerers. There are only a handful who could raise a Shadow Soul. Before I search for them, I need to control my powers—all of them.”

  Rhoane didn’t like where the conversation was headed. She was right; she did need training in her Dark powers. But he dreaded it all the same. Dark ShantiMari meant Valterys, and he couldn’t let her near him until she was strong enough to defend herself. That could take more seasons than they had.

  He placed her hand against his, palm to palm. Their runes glittered in the sunlight, and his desire increased. “Something happened, Taryn. I felt a shift in our bonds.”

  “It was my conversation with Carga, I think. We were talking, and then there was a new rune. I didn’t know that could happen.”

  “They will shift and change as does your path, Darennsai,” Rhoane said, less concerned with the bonds than he was the curve of her lips.

  Her power enveloped their hands, melding them into one. Her Mari caressed his skin while her Shanti plucked at his nerves, sending sparks of heat through his body. He should separate their bonds, should pull away, but it was too good. He opened his mind to hers, craving more than she was willing to give.

  He watched her face, saw the smile on her lips, heard the whispers of fear that lingered in her thoughts. The same whispers tormented him. She desperately wanted to be brave. For him.

  Underneath all her doubts and desires was a single thought.

  Rhoane.

  He fought to control his emotions, but they spilled over, finding their way into her mind. His power melded with her ShantiMari—the trinity of power that marked her as the destroyer of his people.

  When she opened her eyes, they were filled with raw desire. “What was that?” Her voice low, husky. Seductive.

  “That is what happens when Eleri share their bodies.”

  She looked over her shoulder at the guards, who stood watching the surrounding area. A sweet blush spread across her cheeks. “That was incredible.” Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away. Her ShantiMari subsided, leaving him empty and wanting.

  “When you are full Eleri, it will be better.”

  She laughed, and he treasured the sound. “I can’t imagine it being one tiny bit better than that.”

  Silver strands of her long hair floated around her suddenly serious face. “Rhoane, I can’t live like this. I won’t live like this. Not with guards following my every move. Always looking over my shoulder. I must learn to control my power. All three strains of it.”

  “You will. You have already grasped much of what I have been teaching you. In time, Faelara will send a tutor to instruct you in the ways of the Dark.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be enough. I need someone more powerful than a dithering old priest of Ohlin. I need to train with either Zakael or Valterys.” A look of apprehension rested in her eyes.

  The air left him as surely as if she’d punched him in the sternum. “Have you forgotten about Brandt, or what Valterys did to Hayden? It is your power they covet, Taryn. It would be suicide for you to go anywhere near them.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, and I won’t forget how it felt to be inches from an assassin’s knife.”

  “Let us not make any decisions just yet. You are too raw and untrained. If you went to Valterys or even your brother now, they could easily gain control over your powers.”

  A thousand more arguments came to his mind, but she pressed her lips to him, trembling slightly. If he could, he’d take her to the Narthvier and they’d never leave. There, he would give her a future of peace and laughter. As much as she resented being the Eirielle, he hated having to share her with the world. He let his mouth travel over hers, holding her hand in his.

  They sat quietly in each other’s company, neither speaking as they watched ships sail down river. Kaida toddled and pounced on unsuspecting insects. It was a serene moment, one that wouldn’t last. He committed every detail to memory. It was enough. It had to be.

  “Carga wants us to accompany her to the Narthvier for her purification.” Taryn broke the silence with a sideways glance at him. “In three moonturns.”

  “Then we shall.” He kissed her fingertips and chuckled at the antics of her grierbas. Kaida was stalking a lizard, keeping low to the ground, her puppy tail whipping behind her. “Look how she has started to hunt.”

  Taryn frowned at the animal. “Do you think Lliandra’s right? That when Kaida gets bigger, she’ll attack the livestock?”

  Kaida plunged a claw into the reptile, pinning it against the pebbled shore.

  “It is in her nature. I cannot say for certain that she will not be a threat to us all.”

  “I’ve seen him before, you know,” Taryn said, almost as an aside.

  Rhoane faced her, confusion clouding his thoughts. “Who?”

  “The assassin. He’s been tracking our movements. Remember in the mountains, before we met up with the others? Then on the road, I’d see a shadow in the corner of my eye. Always just beyond my vision. I’m sure it was him. He was probably the one who set the vorlocks on us.”

  Rhoane’s chest tightened, and he clenched his hands into fists, air coming in shallow drags to his lungs. “Why are you telling me this only now? Why not sooner?”

  “I didn’t realize who or what it was before. This world is kind of topsy-turvy to me, and to be honest, I didn’t know if I was really seeing something or if I was imagining it.” Her eyes bore into his. “Let it go, Rhoane. We can’t change the past, and I already have enough guilt to deal with. I just thought you should know. I promise, from now on, if anything strange happens, I’ll tell you right away.”

  Rhoane pushed his hands down his thighs, settling his palms on his knees. His fingertips tapped out his annoyance. He was as much to blame for the day’s attack as Taryn was. She’d tried to tell him about the shadow in the mountains, but he’d brushed off her concerns. Never again. Too many times, he’d questioned her concerns and each time her words had been proved true.

  He hated that she was right about her Dark powers. Only her father or brother was strong enough to coax them from where they dwelled. Rhoane didn’t doubt they wanted to use her, but he’d be damned if he’d let her go to them alone and vulnerable. If they controlled the Shadow Assassin, she had more to fear from them than their command of her power.

  “Hey.” Taryn’s soft voice cut into his thoughts. Her warm hand squeezed his. “You okay?”

  He blinked at the creeping darkness. “We should be getting dressed for dinner. Allow me to escort you to your rooms.”

  “I’d really like to get some more studying done tonight. I have a whole stack of books in my room to conquer.”

  “I am sure word has spread of the attack. It would be best if you arrived at dinner looking very much alive and unhurt.”

  “I thought you might say that.” She melded her body to his, wrapping her hands in his hair, which hung in waves below his shoulders. “I like the new look.”

  He folded his arms around her slim waist. “You should always wear your sword.”

  She pulled back a few inches to withdraw two daggers, one from her blouse and another from her waistband. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “Are there more?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. You’ll just have to find out.” She danced away from him. “But we’ll be late for dinner if you keep distracting me.”

  He scooped up Kaida and took Taryn’s hand. Together, they walked to the palace with her guards following close behind. When they reached the glass doors, Rhoane cast a last look across the river where he knew the Shadow Assassin waited. Next time, they would not be surprised.

  A whisper of heat singed his ear, taunting him, as if to say, We shall see.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Marissa purred with contentment as she made her way to Zakael’s study. He sat at the desk, a piece of parchment in one hand, a mug of ale in the other. A plate with scraps of bread and bits of cheese hung off the
edge of the desk.

  “I see you’re eating well.” She strutted into the room, her robe trailing behind her. “What business keeps you from my side?” When she leaned over to read the paper, he moved it away before grabbing her by the waist.

  “I thought after last night you could use the rest.” Zakael’s grey eyes razed her half-naked body. “You’ve dressed for company.”

  He tasted of ale and something else, dark and rich, the source of which eluded her. His hands explored freely, touching her secret places, sending waves of desire through her. In a husky voice, she said, “I won’t deny I was disappointed to wake alone in your bed.” The robe fell to her waist with only a twitch of her shoulders. She glanced around, hoping Eiric would be seated at one of the couches. The room was empty save for them and Zakael’s faithful dogs.

  He kissed her breasts, squeezing them between his hands. “Alas, we’ll have no entertainments today. We must discuss your sister before you return to Paderau.”

  Marissa stepped away from him, tugging the robe over her shoulders. The air vibrated with her anger, and thunderclouds gathered outside the open window, sparking bolts of light. His mug of ale shimmied on the desk, and the discarded plate fell, shattering on the floor.

  Zakael glanced out the window and then back to her. A scowl crossed his handsome features, and his Shanti wrapped around her with a viciousness she rarely experienced. Although she was nearly as powerful as Lliandra, Zakael and his Dark Shanti were more powerful still. Remembering how easily he’d blocked her power the previous night, she pulled her Mari under control. The skies calmed with her breathing.