Stone of Ascension

by Lynda Aicher

  “To tell you would have changed the necessary outcome. Knowledge would have changed you, and that could not be risked.” The Ancient rose from his seat in a graceful lifting of weight. Amber shifted to follow his path as he made his way to stand before Damian, undeterred by the hostility that radiated from the taller man. “You have endured much so that you can understand much. Empathy built from experience is far more powerful than that gained from words. You are but one of the sacrifices we had to make in order to trap the dragon in the cage.”

  “So me being condemned and ostracized for a crime I didn’t commit, that was all planned?”

  The other man had the grace to look away before he once again met Damian’s gaze. “The situation presented an opportunity that was seized upon. But it was you who had the grace to walk away despite what you knew to be true. You who forsook all that you were born into for the betterment of the race.”

  “How could my leaving hold such power?”

  “To challenge the verdict and stay would have cause great strife and unrest within the Energen community. Sides would have formed, battles fought until the good energy was tainted with the very evil Gog fosters. In leaving, you let the good continue. You willingly sacrificed everything that was dear to you and in doing so saved the rest.”

  It was Damian’s turn to look away. “How could you know I would react that way? Was that manipulated too?”

  “Your actions are your own, Damian,” the Ancient answered. “You know we are not powerful enough to influence that. It is time for you to let go of the guilt you’ve harbored since Khristos’ death. Let his actions be his own.”

  Damian cringed, physically wincing away from the words. “And what about Khristos?” he bit out weakly. “Was he also a sacrifice?”

  The Ancient gave a slow incline of his head. “Yes, unfortunately.”

  Pain—Damian’s—ratcheted through Amber, starting in her chest and pounding outward until it blanketed her in weary misery. Damian stumbled backward until his back smacked the wall and he sagged into the solid mass. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his body a mix of tense nerves and sagging muscle.

  The Ancient reached out and rested a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Whether out of exhaustion or defeat, Damian did not pull away from the touch.

  “It is much for one family to endure. To give up and sacrifice,” the Ancient sympathized. “It was that sacrifice, one made out of pure honor and love, one given not out of obligation, but from a willingness to do right—to do good—that provided the energy required to bind the bars and hold the beast.”

  “Who knew?” Damian asked weakly. “Who else knows the truth?”

  The Ancient pulled his touch away and clasped his hands before him. “There are only a few or else the power wouldn’t have worked.”

  “My father?”

  “No,” the man said with a slow shake of his head.

  Damian’s eyes squeezed tightly closed, the pain rippling across his face with a constricting of muscles that traveled down his arms and pooled in the tight clench of his fists.

  “Who was the girl?” The question was asked through the stiff hold of his lips. “Why did Khristos kill her?”

  The Ancient stepped away from Damian and moved across the room until he was once again facing both of them. Amber pushed to her feet, her legs weak under the weight of the revelations, but she refused to be at a disadvantage. She stood separated from Damian by a few feet, but once again the deep chasm of doubt and mistrust gaped between them.

  The man waited until they both looked at him before he finally spoke. “She was a possible Marked One, a descendant of the bloodline that holds the latent Energen gene and the same one from which Amber is birthed. The last bloodline of the ancient Moshup, an Energen who helped the natives after the Energen city was built in what is now called North America.”

  The repeated words of the shaman crashed into Amber, forcing her to accept them for what they might be. The truth. The latest disclosure numbed her body and mind until she no longer felt anything.

  “Khristos made the right choice when he chose to sacrifice the woman instead of letting the Shifters take her,” the man finished. “Her bloodline was too rich with power to allow the Shifters to gain control of it.”

  “But what does all this have to do with me?” Amber’s weariness drifted unwanted into her voice.

  “It’s all about choice, young one,” the Ancient said patiently. “We all make choices every day that impact the outcome of our lives. It just happens that the choice you make will affect the lives of many more than you can comprehend.”

  “Again, why me?” The sudden weight that pressed upon her shoulders was as physical as a fifty-pound bag of sand being strapped around her neck. Once again, she felt the darkness creeping in, the cold surging through to stoke the fear.

  The man looked her over with eyes that held more knowledge and wisdom than existed on the physical plane. Eyes much like the tribal shaman’s at home, only the Ancient’s eyes contained ages of understanding that defied logic. Those eyes moved to Damian before he finally spoke to her.

  “Because you, Amber, are blooded of both Energen and Shifter. A dual status held by no other. A power of positive and negative that can flow either way.” He paused before continuing slowly. “Your father was a Shifter. A man who wooed your mother until she fell for his false words and charms. It was the Shifters’ attempt to dilute the bloodline and end the threat of the Marked One. But their attempt backfired when you were born with the exact qualities the energy had been waiting for.”

  The answer stopped her thoughts and froze her heart as none other could. How could that be true?

  “My entire life I have been raised under the perception that I am a normal human with just enough Native American blood to allow me to claim ancestry to the Wampanoag Indian Tribe. A distinction I didn’t even relish.” A small snort of derision left her nostrils. “As the outcast bastard of the tribe’s disgrace, I was subjugated to ridicule and scorn for as long as I can remember. And now you’re telling me that all the garbage about me being the harbinger of destruction that his people”—she pointed at Damian—“have accused me of is also true?”

  Unwanted, undesired like always, the tears glistened on the edges of her eyes. She wished it was all false. That everything that had been said was a lie. But a part of her knew it wasn’t. That denial would no longer help her.

  “No, child,” the Ancient soothed. “I am not accusing you of that. You alone contain a balance within you that has the power to change the equilibrium of the world. There is more to you than most know. Than you know. But you must accept that in order to use it. In order to do what is needed.”

  “And what do I need to do?”

  “You will need to discover that on your own,” he said kindly, his soft words floating across the room on a wind of patience. “Knowledge gained in discovery is a lesson not forgotten.”

  “And if I don’t want to discover it?”

  The Ancient’s eyes softened in a look of understanding. “Sometimes discovery is forced upon us despite our wishes to remain clueless. Knowing does not always bring clarity. Likewise, understanding does not make a task easier.”

  She resisted the urge to scoff at the man’s cryptic words, which provided more of a puzzle than a solid answer. She needed to think. Time to process everything. So much had been said and revealed that she no longer had any grip on what she felt or wanted. Her world was out of control, a feeling that tore at her orderly life and left her floundering. Even her connection to Damian was now in doubt.

  “I want to go home,” she demanded, surprised at the strength in her voice. But going home was exactly what she needed. Hard, even strides moved her until she stood directly before the Ancient. “You have the power. Send me home. That is the choice I am making. The one that is right for me. Send me home. Now.”

  The Ancient tilted his head, his long mustache swaying with the movement as he contemplated her demand. Behind her, D
amian said nothing. Made no move to stop her.

  “If you concentrate, you can do that yourself,” the Ancient finally said.

  “I don’t want to concentrate,” she fired back as she took another step closer. “I’m tired. I’ve heard enough of the wild stories and accusations about me and my life. About who I am. I did not choose this path. You forced it on me with that damn stone. What I do from now on is up to me.” She took a deep breath, an attempt to temper her rising anger. “This is my choice. I am not your pawn to be wielded as you wish.”

  “Are you sure this is the choice you want to make, child? To leave is to forsake the protection I am providing.”

  She turned back to the man who had stood by her through it all and spoke one word filled with question and her last thread of hope. “Damian?”

  His cold paralysis encircled her, the dark edges fighting to creep in around the cracks that extended and widened in her battered soul. The burn of rejection deepened as Damian remained immobile, his silence continuing.

  She turned back to the Ancient. “Send me home.”

  After another long pause, the man finally consented. “As you wish.”

  Damian inhaled sharply, the slight hiss snaking through the air to wrap around her aching heart. The two marks cried out in unified denial as the dragon’s tail slowly uncoiled its tight hold on the white bird. The separation burned against the sundering of two forces that should never be parted.

  The energy rejected her decision; the stone fired in angry refusal against her chest, trying desperately to overpower her demand. But it didn’t have the strength to change her will. To force a choice she didn’t want to make. The energy could only respond to her desire, not manipulate or control it.

  The clarity of that understanding only strengthened Amber’s resolve until she felt the prickling sensation unfold from within her to encompass her.

  Remember, child, sacrifice is but an act of giving if done with the right intentions. The parting words whispered in her mind before disappointment and loss descended as she dissipated away. To her surprise, the raging pain was still palpable despite her molecular state.

  But it was a pain she would endure. One she had battled before and survived.

  Only it had never burned as deep and all-consuming as it did right then.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In a move of instant decision, Damian thrust away from the wall and dove for Amber. His dragon roared in approval as he made a frantic grab for her disappearing form.

  His arms closed around air.

  He was too late. Amber was gone.

  Pain raked through him from the sudden absence of a vital part of himself. The force of the impact of his shoulder hitting the ground was nothing compared to the internal agony.

  He’d hurt her. Again. When he’d told her he wouldn’t.

  But she’d lied to him. Or had she? Was his own bitterness and history keeping him from seeing the truth? From accepting what was blatantly obvious?

  The energy flushed hot and powerful through the emptiness. Amber’s feelings—sorrow and betrayal—fought for equal ground against his own anger.

  But the feelings were weakening. Growing fainter the farther she went from him. Need motivated him. Desperate, he faded out to follow her energy trail.

  Despite what she was—part Shifter enemy—he couldn’t let her go.

  His molecular form slammed hard against the circle barrier. A barrier that prevented him from exiting and chasing after Amber. The reality of his entrapment sent out biting curls of frantic recklessness that consumed him with fury.

  Solidifying back in the room with the Ancient, Damian turned his rage on the man. “Let me out of here,” he roared as he stalked toward the man. “You let her go, but you keep me? What game are you playing? Her life is in danger.”

  “I didn’t think you cared, old one.”

  Damian wanted desperately to hit the infuriating man. To knock him down and physically stop the games he played. But force wouldn’t work, and his last thread of rational thought kicked in to remind him that although the Ancient appeared smaller and weaker, he was actually a hundred times more powerful than Damian.

  Turning away, he stalked to the wall and braced his arms on it. Breathing deep, he tried to pull up the emotionless, icy void that he’d functioned within for the last millennium. The stark emptiness of existence that had allowed him to move on when his life had imploded so long ago.

  But it was nowhere to be found.

  His throat was raw, dry to the point that his attempted swallow felt like sharp edges of glass being forced down to pierce the lining of his esophagus. His arms buckled, his head falling to slam against the wall. Amber had ripped the door wide open on the emotion-free box he had perfected and now he couldn’t go back. All the feelings he hid from and swore he didn’t need—didn’t want—were now fully exposed and waiting to be acknowledged.

  “I shouldn’t care,” Damian finally rasped, his back still to the Ancient. “My head tells me to let her go. Not to care.” He inhaled and closed his eyes in an attempt to black out the pain. It didn’t work. “But I can’t. Everything else in me tells me to go after her. To save her.”

  “And why is that?”

  Damian pushed away from the wall and turned around. The Ancient stood rooted in the same spot, his hands clasped behind him. His face held no emotion. No hint of support or thought as he waited patiently for Damian’s answer.

  “Because she’s mine,” he finally admitted, the low words dragging from the depths of his soul to hit the air with the truth. His dragon roared his approval at the admission. Beside the dragon, the white bird cried.

  The Ancient smiled. “She is safe, Chosen One. I sent someone to follow her and watch out for her until you can return. I would not put one so valuable at risk.”

  Damian stepped forward. “Then let me go after her. Let me protect her.”

  “You have your own demons to conquer before you can help her, Damian. You are the Chosen One for a reason. You have lived through much, endured much, so you can do much. But your first step must be to accept the past so you can go home. Your people are waiting for you, Damian.”

  He couldn’t stop the scoffing sound of disagreement. “Wrong. My people tried to imprison me yesterday. Once again, they refused to believe me. Called me a liar. I owe them nothing.” Bitterness twisted hard and tight in his gut.

  The Ancient’s eyes narrowed, a deep wrinkle creasing his brow. “Maybe. But you owe yourself more. You owe Amber everything.”

  “Which is why I need to go to her. To protect her.” Even now, he felt the bond weakening, his strength waning as the distance between them grew.

  “The king will rise, his virgin bride by his side…”

  “What?” Damian gaped at the man, who was now spouting words of lunacy. “King? Don’t think so.” Hell no. He shook his head in adamant rejection.

  “I know so.”

  “How?” He stepped forward until he was in the Ancient’s face. “How could you possibly know all this? What gives you the right to dictate the future?”

  The man did not back down or cower in the face of Damian’s rage. Instead, his dark eyes held fast to Damian’s as he leaned into the anger, meeting the challenge that was extended. “I know because I have lived. Because I listen. Because I believe.” The steel in his voice held strong against the softness of the words. “Your future is your choice, not mine. I dictate nothing.”

  “Hell of a game you’re playing, then.”

  “Wake up, Damian,” the Ancient snapped, his sharp reprimand a solid slap. “Go do what’s right. Go prove them wrong. Be who you know you are, and all will be right.”

  “And who am I?”

  The man leaned back, his shoulders softening along with his face. “You are Damianos Aeros, Son of Kadmos and heir to the House of Air. You are no more or less than that unless you choose it to be so.”

  Damian spun away from the infuriating man. His fingers raked through his
hair, pulling on the strands until it hurt. Desperate, he grabbed at the last morsel of doubt he could cling to.

  “But she’s not a virgin. Not anymore.” The admission leaked out of him on a cringe. The sharing of something so private was a violation of an unspoken trust.

  A low crinkle of laughter broke through the hostility that held the room in its tight grip. “But she was when it was needed.”

  Damian whipped around and pierced the man with a hard stare. “Explain yourself.”

  The Ancient’s lips curled in an enigmatic smile, a light of mischief sparking his eyes. “You’ve been gone a long time, but even you must remember that a relationship consummated within the bounds of a sacred circle creates a binding connection stronger than any words.”

  Damian’s knees buckled, his weight too much for the sudden enormity of responsibility the words represented. He crouched, his head resting in his palms as he processed the latest revelation.

  “By the laws of the energy,” the Ancient continued, unaffected by Damian’s descent to the floor, “you two are bound. A mated pair. When she came to you, she was a virgin. Your virgin bride.”

  “You tricked us,” Damian accused.

  “No. You joined willingly. I had nothing to do with that.”

  Damian’s head whipped up, a snarl curling his lip. “But you cast the circle. You made it what it was with the hope your plan would work.”

  The man had the decency to incline his head in admission. “I will not deny that. It was a necessary play in order to hasten the outcome. Time is running out. I only accelerated what would have happened eventually. At least be man enough to admit that to yourself.”

  The muscles in Damian’s thighs tightened, prepared to spring. Denial rose in his chest and fought valiantly to rush forth and reject what the man was once again saying. But the bile stuck in his throat and burned a rancid path of refute as it fought against the truth.

  Heaving a deep sigh, he pushed to his feet and once again faced off against the man who was both his nemesis and his ally. “You have manipulated my life, torn my family apart and forced endless years of pain and misunderstanding upon many who did not deserve it. For that, I despise you.”