Stone Heir (The Kahlian Series Book 1)

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Stone Heir (The Kahlian Series Book 1) Page 8

by Aimee Hunter


  Diana remained motionless in the middle of the circle, watching every cautious move Rena made. Good, Diana thought. She wasn’t underestimating her opponent. The older woman nodded approvingly, bowing gracefully. Rena stopped just out of arms reach, watching Diana intently. A slow pleased smile made its way across her teacher for the day’s face.

  “There are many different forms of hand-to-hand combat. These forms together are called Martial Arts. Each of my sisters and I have mastered different forms, while familiarizing ourselves with many others. It is what has made us so formidable in combat, our ability to adapt with each new opponent. We had to learn our strength, and admit our weakness’.” As she spoke she began moving gracefully. Her arms flowing in great sweeping arcs. It’s almost like she’s dancing, Rena thought, mesmerized by the skill and beauty on display before her.

  “What you’re seeing is called Tai Chi. It’s mainly defensive, focusing more on evasion, and redirection, causing an opponent harm only as a last resort.” She breathed deeply as she straightened then continued. “Our forms vary drastically, but each knows the other. As I said, mine is Tai Chi. You got a slight taste of Lana’s yesterday.” She teased, grinning at Rena’s raised eyebrows. “Which is Jeet Kun Do.” The Princess looked over to Lana questioningly.

  “Jeet Kun Do? Why does that sound familiar?” Lana grinned in delight.

  “It is the form that Master Bruce Lee developed in the latter part of the Twentieth Century.” Comprehension dawned in Rena’s warm brown eyes.

  “I remember now. He was a part of my history lessons, when we learned about the Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries. There was even a film about him, it was incredible! Did you know him, Lana?” she questioned the redhead, who nodded.

  “Yes. In fact, he was my teacher.” Lana laughed at Rena’s wide eyes.

  “Wow.” She turned to Mason, tilting her head to the side in consideration. “So, what style do you use?” she asked smartly. Mason grinned and executed a graceful bow. Are they ever clumsy? Rena wondered.

  “Iaijutsu, and Jujutsu both of which were used by ancient Samurai,” she supplied simply. Rena frowned having never heard of it. “It’s nearly as old as Diana’s Tai Chi, but dramatically different. Where her style is defensive and elusive, mine is aggressive and offensive. It’s a Japanese form, Diana’s is Chinese, and Lana’s is, well, I guess you could say Asian-American?” she said looking at Lana, who shrugged and nodded.

  “More Chinese than American, but it’s fitting considering it was first widely accepted in the States. It’s a combination of many different forms really.” Rena looked between the sisters, confusion marring her face.

  “Okay. Why do I need to know all of this?” she wanted to know. Her attention drawn to the figure who dominated the center of the practice ring. In that moment, when her eyes met Diana’s, she could almost see the centuries and all they held in the other woman’s golden gaze.

  “Because, there is no one way of fighting or defending yourself. There is no one way to ensure your safety. It is a part of your education, so to speak. You must understand that for every form, every attack, there is a counter. It is important for you to know as you train and become more comfortable with a specific style, that no two people fight the same way or use the same techniques. Some people are like us, skilled and trained. Other’s just like to wail on people until they stop moving. You have to be fast and agile, smart and resourceful.” Diana explained in a soft voice. “You must decide for yourself what suits you. For now, you will become familiar with our styles, so that you can better defend yourself. In time, you will find the style that makes your spirit sing.” Rena stared for a moment longer at the ancient, youthful looking woman standing before her. Then her eyes traveled to the other two, seeing the same weight of time that she had seen in their sister, only Diana’s held something more in them. Some long held secret, a deep eternal sadness. A wisdom glowed from each woman’s face, more so in Diana and Mason’s than Lana’s.

  Though the younger of the three still retained that innocent, care-free love of life the other two seemed to be lacking, her eyes held the look of one who, at one time or another, had known great heart ache. A new respect for these strong, timeless women blossomed in Rena’s heart as she faced Diana again.

  “Whatever you wish to teach me, I am willing to learn.” She intoned respectfully.

  “Good.” Diana smiled.

  “I only ask one thing,” Diana arched an eyebrow in response, waiting to hear what she had to say. Apparently, they all do that eyebrow thing. Rena observed.

  “Be gentle with me.” She said, amusement dancing in her eyes, knowing she was about to get her ass handed to her. Diana smiled, dropping into a ready stance, causing Rena to sigh and awkwardly step into a stance.

  “Okay, now I want you to come towards me and try to hit me.” Diana instructed. Rena nodded hesitantly and followed the other woman’s instruction. She was actually kind of proud of the punch she threw, until she found herself flat on her back staring up at Diana. She frowned, scrambling to her feet.

  “How did you do that?” she demanded, dusting herself off. The older Kahlian smirked, motioning her closer. Rena approached her cautiously, not sure what to expect.

  “Try to hit me again, only move slower and watch what I do.” Diana told her, once again dropping into a low stance. Again, Rena did as she was directed, slowly swinging her clenched fist towards the other woman’s face. Diana leaned to one side, grasping her wrist with one hand, her forearm with the other, pushing Rena’s arm up as she ducked under then swiftly bringing the arm forward and down, using her momentum to once again flip the Princess on her back. Bemused brown eyes stared at the hand hanging in front of her face.

  “Come on, it’s your turn.” Said the owner of the hand. Rena obediently got up and let Diana position her into a proper fighting stance. “I want you to try blocking me. Slowly.” She said. “As my fist comes towards you, lean back and grab my wrist and forearm like I did to you.” Diana instructed. “Lift my arm, and pull it forward and down as you spin with your back to me. This will throw me off balance and flip me forward.” Rena followed the blonde’s directions, managing to knock her off balance. “Good! Let’s try that a little faster.”

  Rena made a small sound of protest in the back of her throat causing Diana to straighten, irritation flashing across her face. “Don’t be afraid to make a mistake. Don’t worry about getting hurt. You will, it’s part of the learning process. With time, you will gain confidence and the fear will lessen, because you will believe that you will be able to protect yourself.” The young Princess nodded her head, assuming a firmer stance she focused on her teacher. The fist came quickly and Rena moved as she had been instructed to, but she couldn’t quite get her off her feet. A second later Rena was on her back, looking up at the sky, a deep scowl on her face.

  “Again. This time, do not hesitate.” Diana ordered. Rena climbed to her feet, then the other woman came at her and again Rena hesitated. “Again!” Diana moved calmly back into position, waiting for Rena to get up. Time after time, she landed on her back and was ordered to keep trying. It wasn’t until noon had come and gone that Rena finally managed to flip Diana onto her back. Mason and Lana cheered loudly from the sidelines with Rena grinning at them before she reached down to help the eldest Stone sister to her feet.

  “Very good.” She praised, “Shall we continue?” Rena made a sound of agreement and took her position. For the rest of the day, they went back and forth. Diana showing her how to punch properly as well as how to kick and where it is most effective. She was also taught holds and flips that left her with bumps and bruises.

  Rena limped into her room, wanting nothing more than to soak for an hour then collapse onto

  her bed and stay there for a year. But instead of finding her room empty, she found a handsome young man with bulging muscles, smiling brightly at her. “Who are you?” she asked suspiciously, the previous night leaping to the fore front of her consciou
sness.

  “I’m Ollie, Princess Rena. Lady Mason asked to me give you a massage after you had bathed. The water is hot and waiting for you. There are also clean towels on the rack.” He informed her kindly yet matter-of-factly. Rena gaped at him in disbelief. Ollie chuckled, shooing her into the bathroom. “Well, hurry up, honey, your water’s getting cold.” Still confused, Rena closed the bathroom door and undressed before stepping into the steaming water.

  “This is heaven,” she moaned, relaxing. Mason crept into Rena’s room, grinning at Ollie.

  “Is she in there?” she asked, tilting her head towards the closed bathroom door.

  “Yes ma’am. She’s a little heart breaker too!” he exclaimed, winking at her teasingly. Mason rolled her eyes, perching on the edge of the bed. Nearly an hour later, Rena emerged from the bathroom, looking more relaxed than she had since Mason had met her, nearly a week ago. She came to a stop just inside the room, drying her hair with a towel, surprised to see Mason reclining on her bed, chatting with Ollie. The Kahlian saw her staring at them and bounced to her feet.

  “Hi! I just wanted to see how you were doing and make sure Ollie showed up.” She said, explaining her presence. Rena gave her a tired smile, moving to the table Ollie had set up. She undid the sash on her robe, shrugging out of it and letting it drop to the floor along with her towel before lying face down on the table. Ollie placed a towel over Rena’s buttocks and began rubbing soothing oil into her tense muscles. Mason remained frozen where she had been standing when Rena had disrobed until she started groaning from the effects of the massage, then she snapped back into motion. “I’m gonna go and let you enjoy your massage.” She was almost out of the door when she heard Rena mumble.

  “Thank you, Mason.”

  “You’re welcome, Rena.” She replied closing the door behind her smiling.

  Mason’s head whipped around when she heard shouting coming from the end of the hall. She headed that way quickly, tapping on Lana and Diana’s doors as she went. When she arrived at the source of the disturbance, her sisters were right behind her. The scene that greeted them, were three guards trying to restrain an indignant Devon.

  “Let me go! I am your Prince! How dare you treat me like this?” the guards were trying not to offend the irate young man while still following their Kings orders.

  “Your Highness, please. You father ordered us to keep you confined to your rooms.” One of them pleaded causing Devon to tense further with anger. Mason grinned, crossing her arms drawing Devon’s attention. He stopped struggling, instead standing very still.

  “Do you find something amusing, Lady Mason?” he growled, trying to hide the fact that his insides were quaking.

  “Immensely, Your Highness.” She said, laughing softly when he went to move towards her only to be brought up short by his guards grabbing him, shoving him back into his room. She saw right through his false bravado, he reeked of fear.

  Devon kicked the door furiously, muttering a few curse words, listening to the Stone sisters leave. He turned into his room and strode shakily but quickly to his liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and pouring a full glass. He carried it over to his chair that was situated in front of a large bay window and sprawled in it, brooding over the last few days. A knock on the door fifteen minutes later made him jump.

  “Who is it?” he demanded tersely.

  “Damian.”

  “Enter.” He granted, frowning. What does he want? He wondered. Damian poked his head in, searching the room until he saw Devon still sprawled in his chair, empty glass in hand. He stepped the rest of the way in, closing the door softly.

  “How are you doing?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  “How do I look like I’m doing?” Devon snapped. “Considering I might be banished from my own kingdom in five days.” Damian leaned against the window frame that Devon was facing, listening to him rant. “Sometimes, I truly hate my father,” he muttered angrily. “If I were King, things would be different. We wouldn’t need a stupid alliance, or a useless council. If we weren’t given what we needed, then we would simply take it. Our army is the strongest in the land, no one could stand against us. As for the council, it would be abolished and my word would be law!” Damian crossed his arms smiling.

  “If you’re serious, I can help you.” He offered mysteriously. The Prince glanced at him warily.

  “Help me? With what?”

  “Help you become King.” Damian responded calmly, even though his heart was racing. This was the only unknown variable in his plan, whether or not the Prince would agree to go along. Devon’s eyes’ widened.

  “What? How?” he stuttered. Damian grinned wickedly, leaning close.

  “By keeping you from being banished.” Devon frowned, even more confused.

  “How could you possibly prevent that? If the Council decides to banish me, not even my father will step in to stop it.”

  “On the day of the Council meeting, I have a feeling that the King and his council will have far more important matters on their hands than a wayward Prince that can’t keep it in his pants.” Damian informed him cryptically.

  “What?”

  “You’ll see. Just be prepared for anything, and if I were you, I’d keep my weapons close.” Was all Damian would tell him. He straightened from the window he was leaning on, moving to the door. “Think about it, Your Highness. You can be banished, or you can be King.” The scheming man slipped out of the door after dropping that temptation in the Princes’ lap, leaving him confused and torn.

  Chapter Ten

  Sylvia slipped over the city wall, enchanting the guards blind to her presence. She crept to the window she had seen the red hair in the most, assuming it was the woman’s bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat when the woman entered the room, giving Sylvia a good look at her. She sucked in a harsh breath, it really was her. She climbed a nearby tree to get a better look into the room. Swallowing hard when Lana began undressing. She was putting on a robe when Sylvia’s foot slipped, making her grab a branch to maintain her balance.

  Lana spun at the sudden noise outside her window, her eyes narrowed when she caught movement among the branches, making out the crouched form of a woman. Stalking over to the bay windows, she flung them open and stepped out onto the tiny balcony, reaching into the tree, grasping a handful of shirt she yanked the shocked woman out of the tree into her bedroom. She followed, shutting the doors behind her without taking her eyes off the figure spread out on her floor. The shock of realizing that it was a Nightkin woman who had been lurking outside of her room caused her to momentarily freeze, before a wave of anger swept through her.

  “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here but if you don’t start talking, things are going to get ugly.” She threatened. Sylvia stood slowly, straightening her clothes, brushing her white hair from her face before turning to look at Lana. “Sylvia?” She gasped.

  “Hello, Lana. It’s been a long time.” She greeted her, inwardly wincing at the slight waver in her voice. Lana’s eyes raked over the familiar woman, hardly believing what her eyes told her she was seeing.

  “What are you doing here? Why were you skulking outside my window?” she demanded, having recovered somewhat from her shock, she resumed her threatening stance.

  Don’t tell her, Sister. Not yet. Her brothers image warned her from where he stood in front of the window she had just come through, casting shocked and angry glares at the Kahlian woman with his sister.

  “Just looking around,” Sylvia supplied, trying to ignore him, confused by Lana’s hostility. “and I wasn’t skulking. I just wanted to know if it was really you.” She said in a voice so soft, even Lana’s enhanced hearing strained to pick up her words. Lana looked at her suspiciously.

  “You never did lie well, Sylvia, keeping secrets was more your style”

  “Unlike some people.” The Nightkin woman retorted.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lana demanded, hands on her hips.


  “You wouldn’t know honesty if it slapped you in the face.” She snapped.

  “What!?” Lana hissed, outraged.

  “You lied to me and my brother, you made us trust you, then you betrayed us! You betrayed me!” Sylvia growled savagely, not in the least bit surprised that her reunion with Lana had so quickly escalated into a shouting match, but unable to contain the fury she had buried for years.

  “Jesus, is that what you really think? That’s rich, coming from you Sylvia.” Lana laughed mirthlessly. Sylvia stood silently, stiff with old pain and anger. She didn’t understand why Lana was acting the way she was. After a long, tense moment, Sylvia finally spoke in a harsh, accusatory tone

  “You ran. You ran away and left us there to die! Sylvan saw you!” Lana’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “I didn’t run from the city, Sylvia. I didn’t run from you. I received word that several of my people had gone missing. I was called home to help search for them.”.

  Don’t listen to her, Sylvia. Remember what she did. Sylvan whispered to her frantically, as he stepped closer to the arguing women. Lana noticed the way the pale woman would glance to the side every so often when her brother communicated with her.

  “Can’t you tune him out or cut him off or something?” she asked, annoyed. Sylvia focused wary eyes on the beautiful Kahlian.

  “Why?” she asked. Lana’s heart sank at the distrust she saw in Sylvia’s eyes.

  “Because, if he’s listening, you won’t hear what I have to say. He will deny everything and feed you half-truths or outright lies.” She told her tiredly, her shoulders sagging slightly. Sylvia’s denial died on her lips when Sylvan spoke harshly.

  I would do no such thing! She’s lying, don’t listen to her! She wondered at the tight expression her brother sported. To anyone else, his words would sound indignant but Sylvia was his twin and much more perceptive than even he was aware of, she heard the panic that laced his voice.

 

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