The Topaz Embrace

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by The Topaz Embrace (lit)




  THE TOPAZ EMBRACE

  The Oracle Standard

  Antonia Pearce

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  THE TOPAZ EMBRACE

  Copyright © 2009 by Antonia Pearce

  E-book ISBN: 1-60601-489-7

  First E-book Publication: June 2009

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2009 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  DEDICATION

  For my true friends: Your support and understanding is a gift more valuable than any gemstone.

  THE TOPAZ EMBRACE

  The Oracle Standard

  ANTONIA PEARCE

  Copyright © 2009

  Prologue

  Summer 2030, Australian Outback

  Frowning, Nala, Chief Oracle and Oracle of the Black Opal, scanned the darkened reddish skies overhead. Streaks of lightening bolted through the dry atmosphere and a rogue wind whipped her long hair about her. She touched the elaborate black opal necklace at her throat and drew in a deep breath. The time had come.

  She turned and faced her assembled Oracle cousins, their guards, their acolytes, and their support staff. Her voice rang out with confidence, her demeanor matter-of-fact as she faced catastrophe. “My people, we maintained our society, the Oracle Standard, in secrecy these millennia, but we now must separate and seek safe refuge in our designated territories.”

  She paused, waiting for the shocked gasps to die down. They all knew something terrible approached—the signs in the atmosphere screamed a warning to them all. But separation of the Standard signaled the worst possible outcome. “A great cataclysm approaches, a disaster too great for our powers to counteract. The sun reaches out to destroy us, and asteroids will shift from harmless orbit to crash to Earth. Many will die and chaos will follow. The opals showed me this future.”

  The hushed murmurs of fear reached her ears, echoing her own terror, but she would not give into weakness. “We must not falter. We must rebuild a global society from the dust of ruin, restore order, and watch over the survivors. We must adhere strictly to the rules set forth by the gods who provided us with our gemstones, and thus, our power. The gemstones serve as the link uniting, us, our planet, and our gods. With their power, and communicating through them, we may remain as one unit, no matter how far apart we reside. Each Oracle serves a different gemstone native to her territory, and each Oracle bears her own hereditary strengths and responsibilities based upon the qualities of that gemstone. Together we have the power to preserve some goodness in a world brought to its knees by evil and the imbalance within the universe.”

  Those assembled shifted in agitation, though no one breeched protocol by interrupting the Chief Oracle. Nala stepped up on the stone platform before her, so they might see her better. She once again faced her people. Her voice quivered a bit with emotion as she saw the tears streaking the faces of some of the younger oracles. “I know this frightens you, as it does me, but hold fast to your roles and your duty. We must preserve the Oracle bloodlines at all costs. This is key to the survival and power of the Standard. As you depart, remember the law, protocols, and structure of the Standard must remain in place. Each rule serves a vital purpose for the well-being of our kind, and each of you must uphold these traditions if we are to succeed in our quest. Pass this knowledge down to your heirs, and they to theirs, so our traditions remain exactly as set out.”

  A resounding crack of thunder startled many, but Nala ignored the sound. She’d witnessed this scene as she gazed into a gleaming opal just that morning. She raised her arms. “Go to your new homes. May the gods and the gemstones protect you all, and may the Oracle Standard prevail.”

  Chapter 1

  Summer 3050, Topaz Oracle Island, The Indian Ocean

  “Let me go, or by the gods, I’ll bring this temple down stone by stone.” The angry roar reverberated through the building and straight down Ankhet’s spine. The furious rattle and clank of metal chains, accompanied by harsh male grunts, echoed through the marble holy complex.

  Oh, dear. What had her staff done now? She hurried across the polished white stone floor on bare feet, and approached her unexpected guest. Her acolytes, or assistants, obtained and detained the man, against his will. According to her maid, Sarri, her overzealous and conveniently absent Oracle assistants decided this visitor represented a prime Consort candidate. Gods save her from matchmaking acolytes skilled at escaping the watchful eye of their Chief Acolyte.

  Embarrassment at the situation almost halted her progress, but she had a duty to deal with the unfortunate man. Standing just out of his reach as he spied her, she searched for any hint of the receptive male response she usually enjoyed. She found only a fierce frown, and his eyes narrowed as he strained at the manacles trapping him. She took a little step back.

  “How dare you have your minions chain me like this, Oracle.” The vibration of venom in his even voice as he stared at her, warned her she’d made an enemy. In a perverse way, the low tones sent delicious shivers through her body, in spite of his hostility.

  His fury she understood, given the unwilling nature of his “application” for the Consort position. Yet, disappointment gripped her, as, unlike most of his predecessors, this one appeared unmoved by her legendary charms, or the esteem of her rank. He projected great strength of character and dignity. Intriguing and attractive qualities, to be sure. Her nipples tightened and a tingling swept through her core. A viable Oracle Consort must be of sterling—and strong—character. Perhaps this time her single-minded temple workers finally got it right.

  Too bad their method caused such offense.

  “Do you not speak, Oracle?” The guest didn’t bother to hide his impatience.

  She studied him, ignoring his question as he lay before her on the floor, facing her, with his back propped up against the wall, glaring in defiance. While not a handsome man by any current standard, his face attracted her, with his square jaw and sensitive mouth, a straight, broad nose
and wide brow. A young man, far younger than she, he’d the carriage of a much more mature man. His eyes, however—they drew her in and fascinated her. Not brown, not green, nor even hazel—though that might be the most accurate description of the color. The emotion projected by his gaze gave it power and his eyes reflected the undiluted color of tragedy.

  “What is your name?” Her gaze remained locked with his while she awaited his response.

  “Tallon Sinclair.”

  The deep tones rumbled through the large room, making the fine hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. Damnation. Even his name called to her on a primitive level. Tallon. What had her people been thinking to leave her with a man like this chained in her temple? Well, she knew what they’d thought, but this could not end the way they hoped. As soon as the guilty parties returned, she’d see to it they understood the error of their actions.

  If only she could manage to look away.

  Hidden within his gaze, beneath the outward fury at his situation, lay a world of heartbreak and despair. His pain, almost tactile, reached out to her psyche, her heart. His warrior spirit, even more dominant than his outward physical appearance, called to the woman in her. He was her weakness incarnate—a wounded kitten of a man within the body of a mighty lion.

  Retreating behind bravado, she announced, “I am the Topaz Oracle. You may address me as ‘my lady,’ sir.”

  “My lady, I know what you want, and I’ll not cooperate.” Fury shot golden sparks through his gaze as he pulled against the restraints.

  Hurt stung through her chest like a lance. Her appearance did not please him. No doubt he spent his life surrounded by nubile young girls vying for his attention. “Ah. So you understand why they brought you here.” Anger flared as her ego engaged. “Don’t flatter yourself. My acolytes overstepped their authority in a well-meaning, but misguided attempt to ensure the Oracle succession.”

  “Ah, and I’m to believe you had nothing to do with this?” He rattled the chains again.

  “I did not. The future of this temple and the Oracle Standard are in danger, that is common knowledge, but I neither ordered their actions, nor did I know of their intent.” All oracles, in spite of their visionary powers, suffered a blindness regarding their own lives, leaving them dangerously vulnerable. For this very reason, each Oracle possessed her own Personal Guard. An Oracle might discern a coup attempt across the globe in its planning stages, but the true motivations of those with whom they interacted on a personal level remained shrouded in mystery.

  She eyed him in feigned disdain. “I didn’t approve their selection, either.” She crossed her arms and attempted to project a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “How did you come to my island, Tallon Sinclair?”

  “I’m a seafaring trader. While en route to Old Asia, a storm came in from the east and caught my ship. She ran aground on the sandbar just off your island. Your…people grabbed me the second I set foot upon the beach.” This last, he nearly spat in disgust.

  She’d be fortunate if he didn’t file a formal complaint with the Federation.

  Shame settled about her like a suffocating cloak. She bore responsibility for the behavior of all who served her. She inclined her head. “The incident is regrettable, and I will punish the guilty parties. Is your ship capable of sailing?”

  “No, she’s got a gash in her hull and the mast is broken.”

  “I see.” Relief surged through her at the knowledge her visitor could not leave. She didn’t know this man, yet she longed to get to know him. Something more than mere libido, ordinary feminine instinct perhaps, told her Tallon could play an important role in her life. The acolytes had chosen with a brilliance that stunned her. At least, from her perspective, if not his, though she’d perish before she admitted it to this arrogant, unwilling man. She might be desperate, but she did have her pride. A hereditary Oracle must remain dignified after all, even a lonely spinster Oracle.

  “I’m afraid you’re stranded on the island until my wayward acolytes return with the only ship, but you needn’t fear for your virtue.” She crossed to the carved chest on the far side of the room and retrieved the keys to his manacles. Returning to where he sat up against the wall, she unlocked the cuffs at his wrists and ankles. “You’re free.” She stepped back and waved her arm with a flourish. “My island is yours to explore while you’re here.” She nodded toward the doorway. “You may use the chamber at the end of the hall. I have much work to do, so I’d appreciate it if you did not disturb me unless necessary.”

  He sat upon the floor, mouth agape as he stared at her.

  Arrogant bastard. That’d gotten his attention. It’d never occurred to him that she might not want him as a mate.

  Ha! Of course, she would. She found him so different from most of the perfumed courtiers who approached her, and as masculine and luscious as he no doubt thought himself. Mores the pity.

  She quashed the pangs of romantic longing. She could hardly expect a vibrant, virile young man who radiated energy and life to be attracted to a woman some ten to twelve summers his senior. Especially an Oracle, who must live her life a virtual prisoner on the island she ruled. If her destiny led to a solitary death in service to her people, so be it—if only that did not also spell doom for the Oracle Standard and the balance of power over the entire planet.

  “I thought your need to ensure the succession of this Oracle office grew desperate?” He eyed her in astonishment. “Such is the gossip, such is what your people said as they chained me here like some human sacrifice.”

  If she could sink through the solid marble floor, she’d gladly do so. “I regret the treatment you received on my island. It’s no secret our temple is in jeopardy if I don’t produce an heir. The Intercontinental Federation demands all Gem Oracle Offices be occupied by hereditary Oracles of that gem bloodline or face abolishment. Not that it would matter. The gems will only speak to those of their bloodline. They would be useless without a true descendant of the line.”

  “Would it be so tragic if your Office did not continue?”

  Tears stung her eyes. She’d born the worry and the responsibility of this situation alone for so many years, the luxury of speaking the harsh reality aloud nearly brought her to her knees. “Yes. Tragic does not begin to describe the result. Each Oracle Office has its own area of specialty, but all are interdependent. Without Topaz, all other gems would be reduced in power, or useless. Together, bound by the benevolence of our spiritual union, we guide and rule the planet in peace, in spite of interference from the Federation.” Bitterness edged her voice as she sank down on the cool floor beside her guest. The well-being of the planet and her own way of life hung on the precarious thread of her ability to meet the demands of Federation and Oracle law.

  “In peace, you say? What of the famine and the resulting riots? What of the deaths at these events?” He glared in cold accusation and she crossed her arms in front of her in a useless attempt to ward off his ire. Is this what all of Earth thinks of the Oracles? No wonder the Federation has gained so much support lately.

  “Neither the famine nor the deaths that resulted had anything to do with the Oracles. I swear by my Office. I cannot explain the famine. We did not foresee it, and none of our efforts to control it succeeded. The deaths are the tragic result of the Federation’s quest for control.”

  He narrowed his eyes, blatant with disbelief. “Ah. I see. The Federation is to blame. Always it is the fault of the Federation, never the Oracles. I still don’t see how the planet would suffer from the loss of one Oracle Office.”

  Ankhet fought irritation and hurt. He must understand. “If any Office goes vacant, it weakens the Standard. With the Federation seeking any Oracle vulnerability to exploit, the loss of even one Office could place the entire Oracle system in jeopardy of annihilation. The Federation would then assume absolute command of Earth and all its sovereign outposts. They would seize the valuable resources now controlled by our system of free enterprise. The people still revere my station to
some extent, and the Federation would not dare go against me publicly. If the Oracle Standard loses its remaining influence, the Federation could easily kill or imprison the other Oracles, steal their gems and their role in government, with little consequence from the public, as long as they handled it with their usual sly efficiency. In the process, they’d lose the most important value of the gems—their power. They would not understand this until too late.”

  Turning toward him, she stared him down. “But, I’ve no intention of resorting to kidnapping a young foreigner and forcing him to…to… ‘sacrifice` himself.” Heat swept up her neck at the thought of the duties of Oracle Consort, things she imagined this beautiful, golden man did very well, but would perish before she forced a man to perform.

  Her guest arched a skeptical brow. “Forgive the impertinence of my assumption, but your acolytes did forcibly bring me to your temple and chain me to these most convenient manacles. I suppose they acted of their own volition, and these chains just happened to be here?”

  “This temple is centuries old. The chains and manacles have always been here, though their original purpose isn’t clear.” Humiliation surged through her. How could her own people do this? Where is Danar? He never left her side, upholding his sworn duty to protect her, and she needed his comforting presence now. Surely, he’d not approved of this ridiculous plan. A shard of pain left over from her long-time unrequited love for him pierced her heart at the thought. “Don’t worry. Those responsible for bringing you here will be punished.” She paused, the words sticking in her throat. Oracles didn’t apologize often, but she’d no choice. “I’m sorry for this terrible mistake.”

 

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