Ishel (The Stone Legacy Series, #1)

by Theresa Dalayne

  He touched my cheek. “I plan to present my case to your father, Ishel. I plan to declare my love for you, and challenge Nacon for your hand.”

  My eyes grew wide, and I gripped my chest. “Kinich, no.” My words came out in a whisper.

  The soft light emitted from his skin grew bright and harsh, and the smile he wore that first stole my heart had vanished. “It is the only way.” Rather than the gentle soul who strode with me through my gardens, Kinich was like a golden lion prepared for battle. He was exquisite, and there was nothing in this realm, or any other realm, I wanted more than him.

  Suddenly the hope that had bloomed in my heart withered and died. “But what if my father denies your request? What will become of us?”

  Kinich took my hands in his. My father’s voice became louder as he grew closer.

  “I would rather spend eternity vanquished to the bowels of the underworld than spend eternity with the knowledge Nacon sleeps in your bed. I cannot bear to dream of him sleeping with you. Touching the curves of your body. Enjoying the sweet taste of your skin on the tip of his tongue as I have, while making love in the vast fields of the highlands.” He pressed a kiss on the back of my hand. “My soul cannot withstand such torture. If your father refuses, we will run.”

  My eyes narrowed. “But to where? There is no place in this realm we can hide from my father, or Nacon.” My words quickened as the silver blood of my kind rushed through my veins. “There is no place for us to seek refuge.”

  Kinich stared down at the middleworld. “That is not entirely true.”

  I joined him in gazing through the stars below us. They twisted and twinkled in space, much like the glint in Kinich’s eyes when he looked at me.

  Fleeing to the middleworld was not something I wanted to consider. But if Kinich’s proposal was denied, fleeing would be our only hope.

  “Daughter, why is your wedding veil on the ground?” I spun to see my father, who stood on top of the ripples of water in the center of the lake. I turned back to where Kinich stood, only to see the imprints in the grass where his feet had been, and nothing more.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I never thought this day would come—the day Kinich stood before my father in the grand hall of the heavens and declared his love.

  A heavy crystal chandelier glittered above us, hanging from the dome roof, dotted in rubies and gold. Towering windows of stained glass allowed the sun to pour into the space, colored with green, blue, and yellow. The colors danced over the marble floor, filling the hall with a mesmerizing ballet of lights.

  My father paced. I stood quietly, twisting the engagement ring around my finger with the hope I could tear it off and throw it at Nacon’s feet the next time we met.

  There were no words to express the relief it would give me, and the weight it would lift off my shoulders when I knew I would not have to live my life in mourning.

  “Kinich.” My father continued to pace and stroked his beard, the lines across his forehead deepened with a frown. He glanced at me.

  I dropped my gaze, afraid he may see the desperation in my eyes.

  “Kinich. You know Ishel is engaged to another.”

  I gripped my stomach and pushed down the pleas clawing their way up my throat. If I said something—begged my father—perhaps he would grant Kinich’s request without protest. But I knew Kinich,. He wanted to present himself honorably. If I were to intercede it would be because I had no other choice.

  “I do,” Kinich replied. “But Ishel does not wish to wed Nacon. She and I are in love.”

  My father huffed. “Love. Such nonsense is for the mortals.”

  My hand trembled, and a sob trickled from my throat, though nobody seemed to notice.

  “And you, Ishel?” My father paused. “How do you feel about Kinich’s proposal?”

  Kinich’s eyes were alive with the colors of the sun. Wild strands of golden hair hung around his face. How I wished to gently brush the strands aside and rest a kiss upon his lips.

  “Daughter.”

  I sucked in a breath and moved my attention to my father. “I...” If we did not give our love a chance, we would never know of the possibilities. “I approve.” My tense muscles eased. “I approve, and wish for you to grant his request so we may be together.”

  There was a long pause. The three of us stood still and silent.

  A heavy knock on the door shook the air. I flinched, and the double wooden doors creaked open. Nacon stepped inside the grand hall.

  My breath hitched. How did he know of our meeting?

  Nacon narrowed his dark eyes. He was dressed in war gear—bronze armor and chest plates secured with thick, leather straps. His sword glinted where it sat on his hip, his hair pulled back to accentuate his sharp cheekbones and tightly pressed lips. “I have come to join your meeting.” His focus shifted to me. My muscles coiled. “And my bride-to-be. What business does she have here?” He looked at Kinich, and his eyes narrowed further. “With him.”

  Kinich worked his jaw. I prayed he would not allow his disdain to get the better of him. Nacon was a grand warrior with nearly unlimited abilities, and angering him would mean certain death.

  Nacon drew the blade from its sheath and studied Kinich from across the room. “Perhaps you believe I have not noticed the way you watch her. Perhaps you believe I am ignorant, or worse, stupid.”

  Kinich undid the top button of his cloak and rolled his shoulders. His cloak dropped to the floor and vanished in a flash of light.

  The temperature of the room suddenly rose. A bead of sweat rolled down my neck. Kinich extended his hand, and a short, double-sided ax made of rolling flames materialized. He curled his fingers around the handle. His muscles visibly tensed.

  If they went to war, Kinich would surely perish. I rushed toward them, but my father gripped my arm. “Ishel. I believe it is time for us to leave.”

  My lips parted and I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “How can you say such a thing? You cannot allow them to fight.”

  “There is a time when men must be men, my daughter.”

  “But they are not mere men, and you can put an end to this by simply granting Kinich’s request and allowing us to wed.” My chest jumped with every quickened breath. I rested my hands on Father’s arm. “You are my protector. Please, also protect my heart.”

  The corner of my father’s lips turned down. “As your protector, I believe the best man for you is Nacon. He is strong and fierce. He will not allow harm to come to you.”

  I backed away from my father. “You deny Kinich’s request?”

  My father’s eyes grew dim. “One day I pray you will understand. I could not protect your mother from death, though a chance still exists that I can protect you. I will not fail at my duty as a father, as I failed at my duty as a husband.”

  A long moment of silence passed. All the while a war raged in my heart. With my father’s final decision, I knew what lay ahead. “Then one day I pray you understand what I must do.”

  As Nacon approached Kinich, his heavy booths thumped against the marble floor. Nacon’s muscles flexed under the weight of his iron sword.

  With the short ax clenched in Kinich’s hand, he crouched into a warrior’s stance. His muscles tightened as he swung the weapon in a full circle over his head, then leapt forward and swung the weapon at Nacon.

  Nacon raised his sword and blocked the attack. Sparks of flames clashed between their weapons and scattered over the floor.

  I gasped and stretched out my hand. “No!” I pushed past my father and threw myself at Nacon’s feet. “Please, do not kill him. I beg of you!” I wrapped my arms around his legs.

  “Ishel,” Kinich growled. “You need not beg him for anything. Move aside.” He waved his ax, his focus never shifting from Nacon’s face.

  “No.” On my knees, I reached up and clung to Nacon’s shirt with my chin tilted up. “For me, please. Consider it a wedding gift—the only favor I will ever ask of you.”

  Nacon paused and
stared down at me. “A wedding gift?”

  I nodded. Brown waves spilt over my shoulders. “I give no pretense to the fact I am in love with him,” I said in a soft tone. “I do not deny it. And I pray, if there is a shred of decency that lingers in your blackened heart, you show me mercy and do not force me to watch you end his life.”

  Nacon watched Kinich for a moment, and then shifted his focus to my father. My father gave a single nod. Nacon looked back at me, and sheathed his sword.

  With my fingers still twisted in the fabric of his shirt, I pressed my forehead against his leg. “Thank you, Nacon.” I swallowed. “Thank you.”

  His ice-cold hands gripped my arms and he pulled me to my feet. “Ishel.” His voice had taken a softer tone than I had ever heard. It caught my attention and forced me to look into his eyes.

  The lines around his mouth deepened with his frown. “You believe my heart to be black.” He lowered his tone even more and pulled me closer to him. “That was true until the day I first saw you.”

  Although I wanted to, I could not bring myself to turn away.

  “You stood there in the meadows,” he whispered, “down in the middleworld, learning how to tend flowers. Your mother was still here. She wove your hair into a braid while you reversed the process of a dandelion turning into a puff of seed.”

  Never had I heard Nacon speak in such a way. Never did I believe he was capable of feeling anything but disdain and hatred. It was what he fed into the hearts of men to keep war and violence alive and thriving in the middleworld.

  “I know how much the mortals mean to you,” he continued. “How you love and admire them.” Nacon’s eyes softened. “I know of your role. You must protect mankind and keep the middleworld safe for the Guardian. You must aid her. You yearn to keep the mortals alive.”

  I pulled back, just enough to stare deep into his eyes. He should have no knowledge of the Stone Guardian. It was my duty to protect her and the enchanted Mayan stone. My duty alone...

  Yet somewhere in his charred soul, indeed, a spark of empathy lived. And out of the hundreds of millennia we have existed together in the heavens, now, in the moment I needed it the most, Nacon showed me mercy.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I roamed the lands of the middleworld with no will to tend to the flowers or give life to the mortals’ crops.

  It had been weeks since I begged for Kinich’s life. Weeks since I held a flicker of hope for our future, and weeks since the hole in my heart grew with every passing breath.

  I slowly walked through a mortal village.

  No longer did I gaze at them with fascination.

  Only envy.

  Domestic turkey roamed over the soft soil along the jungle’s edge. Rows of huts built from wood and grass provided a place for the mortals to sleep. Their lives were so simple. They had no one but their offspring to tend to. No universe below in need of nurturing.

  They lived blissfully unaware of my presence while I slowly passed, watching mothers nurse their infants, and men plow through failing crops.

  Heavy rains had created thick mud. The men were clearly exhausted, as they had spent days trudging through it to plant more seeds. Yet even with the rain from my father’s woe-filled heart and the warmth from Kinich’s sun, their crops did not grow and their fields of wheat and fruit bearing trees continued to wither and die.

  They did not understand.

  Honeybees ambled about, unable to find fresh pollen. Even the hummingbirds were starved and barely able to fly.

  I turned to see the shadow of a spotted cat weaving through the trees. I watched as the animal padded toward me. Sunlight brushed over its coat and made its black spots gleam.

  “Good morning, Balam,” I said solemnly. The jaguar god’s bright yellow eyes stayed locked on me with every step of his paws. I rested my hand over the damp bark of a tree. “Out of everyone, surely you are not enjoying the rains.”

  Balam’s tail flickered, and he shook off the thin later of water coating his fur. His ear twitched. He vanished behind a tree. When he emerged, he stood as a man, walking over the forest floor with bare feet and the same piercing yellow eyes.

  Balam had been my middleworld playmate since I was a child. I would ride on his back, and lay my head on his belly in the meadows as his torso rose and fell with every breath.

  He surely sensed something was wrong—that I was somehow unwell, and had came to check on me. I smiled softly. “There is nothing you can do to help, old friend. But thank you for the warmth your gesture has provided. It came at a dire time, indeed.”

  Balam stopped in front of me. I had never stood so close to him before in human form. His bare chest was nearly twice as broad as mine, and he was...handsome, in a brotherly kind of way. His eyes softened, and he laid his hand on my shoulder.

  The gesture touched my heart in ways I could not put into words.

  Tears built in my eyes, but I was determined not to cry. “Thank you, Balam. You are a kind and loyal friend.”

  His features softened, and his hand slipped off my shoulder. He nodded a single time, and then walked past me, toward the jungle.

  When I turned, he had already changed back into his jaguar form. Balam’s silent steps carried him between the trees, where he vanished once again.

  I let out a long, silent breath, and wandered back into the forest. The branches of earthly trees reached out to me. Their burnt leaves shivered and cried for attention.

  I gave them none.

  Rays of sun broke through gaps in the branches and warmed my shoulders. I tilted up my chin and allowed the light to cast over my face and warm my cheeks.

  The warmth was how I knew he was near.

  Kinich appeared, and he traced his thumb over my lips. A shiver ran down my arms. “Why do you neglect me, my love?” I opened my eyes to see his face, streaked with pain. “I have continued to shower your flowers and plants with sunlight, yet you neglect them. The mortals grow desperate. They cry out for you, and you have not answered.” Kinich dropped his hand to his side. “Have you had a change of heart?”

  “What?”

  Kinich’s soft features hardened. “You fall at Nacon’s feet and spend the following weeks pretending as though I do not exist.” His brows furrowed, as did his clenched jaw.

  The need to be held by him nearly ruined me. My body trembled as I rested my hands on his chest. Kinich gathered me into his arms. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him into a kiss. He did not hesitate in stealing my breath, as he always did when his lips met mine.

  His weight shifted forward, and I let my body go limp as he lowered us gently onto the grass. My heart quickened under the weight of his body.

  For the first time in weeks, the grass below me flourished and sprouted.

  I pushed my fingers under the hem of his cloak to roam my hands over his bare skin. I ran my fingertips down his chest, to his stomach, where a thin trail of hair tapered to his lower torso. His chest jumped.

  I could not resist him.

  I did not want to.

  He trailed kisses down my neck, leaving my body uneasy. My back arched at his hot breath caressing the curve between my breasts.

  I wanted him.

  Needed him.

  I arched my back and curled my legs around his body, surrendering to the moment—the beginning of the rest of our lives.

  I knew neither of us intended to return to the heavens. We could not. For if we did, there was no doubt that our fates were sealed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It had been nearly a week since Kinich and I had fled to the middleworld. The knot in my gut grew with every moment I was away from my father. I had given him no notice of my retreat. No letter or final goodbye to grant his heart peace.

  Instead, I departed the heavens with the claim I was going to tend to my flowers, and simply did not return.

  It had rained for the entire six days. Morning to night, the clouds tore open and released downpours that flooded the land. Thunder and lightnin
g pummeled the skies. The mortals grew afraid, but I could do nothing to soothe them.

  Kinich worked tirelessly to sustain the sun, bright and hot, with the hope it would evaporate at least a portion of the rain. Without his efforts, the middleworld would surely be underwater.

  I could hardly bear the burden of knowing my father worried over me so. I desired to stand beside him again and assure him that I, too, like my mother, did not leave him without saying goodbye.

  Yet I had done exactly that.

  Kinich’s skin seemed more pale than usual. He slumped against a bare, starving tree, and squinted up at the sun. “Shade would be useful,” he said with a crooked grin.

  I tried to smile—though it was truly forced and most likely an obvious act.

  Kinich rested his hand on the trunk of the tree, and with the greatest amount of care, listened to its woes. Every brown blade of grass and prematurely fallen leaf cried similar sorrows. “Ishel, when do you intend to return to your duties?”

  “My duties?” I stared at him over my shoulder. “You sound like my father, Kinich.”

  Kinich tilted his head to one side. “I worry over the state of the middleworld. Is that not our role?”

  My shoulders slumped forward with a soft exhale. “Yes, I suppose it is. But duty and responsibility is what has trapped me in this realm to begin with.”

  The warmth of the sun dimmed. “Trapped?”

  My lips parted and I turned to face him. “Not trapped, my love. I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere but with you.”

  “Yet you continue to neglect your flowers.”

  “And my trees. And my grass.” I dropped my head. “I neglect them all. Not because I wish to see them wither.”

  “Then are you not happy?”

  I bit my lip.

  Kinich walked to me and wove his fingers between mine. “Your heart aches for your father. I understand. But if we return to the heavens, you know what he will do. Even more so now that we have eloped to this realm. We cannot pretend any longer. There will be no doubt in his mind, or Nacon’s, that we have consummated our love. It would make little sense to believe otherwise, and—”