“Okay.” Zanya squared her stance and tried again. She focused on the heat deep in her gut and channeled it to her right hand. The sparks came, along with a metallic taste in her mouth.
“Concentrate,” Eadith said. “Command your abilities to work for you. Demand they do as you say. Build the heat until it threatens to explode out of you. Then envision that heat as fire.”
Zanya held her breath and bore down. Heat crawled through her veins, making her body pulse with the need to set it free. The currents of electricity changed color, and the hair on her arms stood on end, followed by strands of her hair rising, ticking her scalp.
She needed to push harder. One last rush should be enough. She could feel it—deep in her bones. Zanya called on her stone for help, and when it answered, a succession of images scrolled through her mind—seeing her mother for the first time, and then the day she bonded with her stone. She dug deeper, and found the moment the lights of aurora touched her and Arwan, weaving their souls together forever.
A pulse of electricity shot down her arm. Zanya sucked in a breath when a flame sparked to life, wavering in the palm of her hand.
She smiled brightly and looked at Eadith. “I did it!”
“Now grow the flame. Find that memory and hold onto it. Channel that emotion into the fire.”
Zanya reached for the memory of the exact moment they bonded. Her heart leapt and her mind jumped to the two of them on their first night together—his tight muscle packed under warm skin. His hot breath when it teased the curve of her neck. Their bond deepening—breakable only by death.
The heat in her hand grew until the ball of fire was the size of a grape, then an egg, and then a grapefruit. Soon the fire was too hot to hold close, and she was forced to stretch her hand away from her face.
“Now throw it,” Eadith commanded.
Zanya’s gaze scanned the faces of group. “Make a way.” They clustered on one of two sides, leaving a gaping path in the center.
She chucked the flame like a softball—but it didn’t get far.
The fire broke apart as soon as she threw it, scattering over the group and landing in tiny balls of inferno over herself and the jungle floor.
Zanya screeched and frantically flicked the flames off her clothing. The tiny burn marks healed within seconds. “What the hell!”
“It takes practice,” Eadith said.
“Did that happen to you when you first started?”
“No. Never.”
Zanya flicked the last of the flames from her clothes. “That’s comforting.”
“Practice. Don’t give up.” Eadith rejoined the group.
“Okay.” Zanya shook it off and turned back to the others. “Who is next?” Her gaze landed on the Arab windthrowers. “I kind of already have the whole wind manipulation thing down, I think.” Renato quickly translated for the twins. The two chattered in their native tongue before the short one, Ahmed, stepped forward.
She’d always known the brothers to be lighthearted, goofy guys. They appeared to be teenagers, maybe seventeen or so, and had always provided a bit of comic relief. But now, as the young man stepped forward, his already dark eyes seemed to grow darker as his youthful features sobered.
Ahmed slipped the string of prayer beads over his head and gave a crooked smile. He snapped his hands forward, pushing a gust of wind toward Zanya. It slammed into her like a train and knocked her to the ground, tearing the air from her lungs.
She coughed and wheezed, forcing herself to her feet before she was really ready to stand. She stumbled and caught herself, then stood, clutching her stomach. She ground her teeth and jutted her hands out, throwing a counterattack.
Ahmed’s eyes widened, and the wall of wind slammed into him, throwing him back into the group. His twin brother, Yousef, caught him around the arms and squinted as dirt and leaves smacked into them, carried by the gust.
Peter chuckled. “Nice.”
“It seems you have no trouble with that ability,” Renato stated, his chest puffed out. “Very good.”
Sweat collected on Zanya’s brow. “It’s tiring, though.” She pushed stray hairs out of her face and stood up straight, recovered from the wind assault. “Who’s next?”
“Perhaps you should rest,” Marzena said, standing beside Renato. “You are young and gifted, but you have a weakness. Show that, and your enemy will prey on it, using it to their advantage.”
“There’s no time for her to rest,” her mother said. “She has to push forward, tired or not.”
It was tough to say, but her mother was right. “Like I said, who’s next?” She looked at Grima and Beigarth, standing side-by-side. “I don’t know how to do your ability.” She waved them forward. “Come on down.” Once she said it, she realized it sounded like the intro to a bad game show.
The two Vikings looked at each other and remained silent.
“I believe their ability is a bit…advanced,” Renato said. “Perhaps you should wait until you’re completely recovered.”
Before her mother could speak, Zanya responded. “No. Contessa could strike at any time. It’s now or never, right?”
Her mother stepped forward, a bit of humility in her gaze. “I think Renato’s right. This one is too much.”
“Weren’t you the one who just said I had to push forward no matter how tired I am?”
“Yes, but not with this. I couldn’t even perform their ability.”
“Maybe that’s because you didn’t try hard enough.”
Her mother lifted her chin, holding her gaze. “I know you think this whole thing is about you, but you staying alive is imperative to all of us. That’s something you still haven’t learned, because you’re inexperienced and stubborn.”
“Wonder where I get that from.”
“This is not a productive use of our time,” Renato interrupted.
“I think she should learn every ability,” Hawa said. “The more weapons we have, the better.”
“I don’t get it.” Jayden shoved his hands in his pocket. “What’s the harm in trying?”
“Children.” That word, coming from Marzena, caught all of their attention. “Wisdom in combat is perhaps the most vital weapon of all. If an ability is too powerful to master, using your strongest powers is a wiser option.”
“What’s up with everyone being so…scared?” Zanya gave Jayden a “please shut up” glare. He shrugged. “What? Am I the only one who sees it?”
Of course, he didn’t shut up.
“I understand what you’re saying, but how dangerous could it be? This is what I’m meant to do, right? If anyone should try to master all abilities, it’s me.”
Grima stepped forward. “Aye, lass. But it’s a power ye cannot learn.”
“Why?”
“Because we will not teach ye.” Beigarth’s voice contrasted Grima’s warm, caring tone.
“Why not?”
“It’s too dangerous, lass.” Grima made an obvious effort to have a sweeter approach. “Listen to us. We are doing ye right. Ye just don’t see it yet.”
A long silence thickened the air.
Peter was the first to speak. “Well, if that’s it for today, I think we should get the fire going.” Peter took Tara’s hand. “It’ll be dark soon.”
The group loitered a moment, and then dispersed without further discussion.
Zanya stood in place, watching as they meandered back to camp.
Arwan was the only one left standing in the new training circle. “Are you okay?”
“What the hell just happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why…” She touched her brow with a tinge of sweat on it. “Why didn’t they want to teach me? I don’t get it. I need to know everything. The more I know, the better.”
Arwan examined her. “Are you okay? You look pale.” He pressed his hand to her forehead. “No fever.”
“I’m fine. I heal, remember?”
“Yes, but if your powers are drained, they may n
ot work.”
Her focus shifted to Balam stalking out of the jungle with a dead boar hanging in his jaws. He dragged it to her feet and dropped it. Blood oozed from its blunt nostrils.
“Oh.” Zanya stepped back. “That’s…” Disgusting. “I mean…thank you.”
Balam chuffed, and then slunk back into the jungle.
“I guess we’re having ham for dinner.” Zanya patted Arwan on the shoulder. “Have fun cleaning it. I’m going to rest.”
Truth be told, she wasn’t just tired. Exhaustion had settled so deep into her bones, and her legs were like fifty-pound weights as she dragged one foot in front of the other.
Near the entrance of the house, she caught a glimpse of Grima and Beigarth having what looked like a heated discussion.
Beigarth’s lip was curled as he spoke harshly.
A spike of pain wrenched Zanya’s stomach. The pain wound around her back and shot down her legs. Mixed with the fatigue, it was too much to bear. She paused, her legs shaking, and then dropped to her knees.
“Zanya!” Tara’s frantic call cut through the air. “Peter, get over here!”
Arwan was beside her soon after.
Then the rest of them.
They gathered nearby while Peter crouched beside her and laid his hands on her back. “Tell me what’s wrong. I don’t…” He skimmed his hands over her arms and head. “I don’t sense anything.”
Pain coiled around her muscles. She ground her teeth. “I’m just…tired.” She tried to push to her feet, but didn’t have the strength to get off the ground.
“Get her inside,” Peter ordered.
When Arwan scooped her into his arms, everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Arwan
Hours later, the entire group gathered in the house, all concerned about Zanya’s condition—no one more than him.
Eleuia stood beside the fireplace in the living room. “We have to figure out what we know so far.”
“And then what?” Jayden said.
“Then we will know best what our next step should be,” Renato responded.
Arwan lingered by the window, staring at the vast jungle in the distance. The only one missing from the meeting was Balam, who stood sentry outside in case Contessa returned for another round.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Zanya to wake up before having this discussion?” Hawa said.
Arwan looked at her. “She knows as much as I do about this situation, and I know more than all of you.”
Eleuia glared. “Apparently so.”
Arwan ignored the remark and continued. “We know Yaxche, the tree of life, is being controlled by Contessa.”
Tara coiled her arm around Peter’s and leaned into him. “Why hasn’t it destroyed everything by now? I mean, it would be easy enough, right?”
“Thanks to Drina’s protective circle, as long as we’re in the house or on the training platform, we’re out of the tree’s reach. But Contessa—I have no idea if she can cross.”
“The question is,” Marzena said, “why has she not yet tried?”
“I think she’s too weak. The last time I saw her, she was falling apart. Now she stays in the underworld for the most part, only braving the middleworld when it’s necessary.”
“She certainly thought talking to you was necessary,” Eleuia mumbled.
Denying Contessa’s interest in him would only make the group more suspicious. He’d have to address this—right here, right now. “She wanted something from me. The same thing she wanted back in Moscow, when I went to her home to find out more about my mother.” Arwan cast his gaze to the floor, too ashamed to look them in the eye when he said it aloud. “She wants the darkness inside of me.”
The room was silent for a brief moment before Peter spoke up. “This may be a stupid question, but why?”
“She was dying. She wanted the darkness inside of me then, probably to fuel her.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Renato said, now pacing. “She gorged on the souls of men, but it wasn’t enough. Your darkness would have given her everything she needed, and more.”
“She’s no kitten,” Grima said. “That’s clear as day. Why doesn’t she just take it?”
Renato paused, shaking his finger as if chasing a thought. “Grima is absolutely right. Killing you should be no difficult task for a dark witch like Contessa. She has lived for thousands of years and consumed countless souls in her lifetime to sustain herself.” He lowered his hand and watched Arwan. “Why are you different?”
“Because we’re lucky,” Jayden said, probably half-joking.
“No.” Arwan’s single word made the room fall silent. “She needs my permission to take that part of me, and I wouldn’t give it.”
Tara puckered her lips. “I don’t get it. You don’t ask permission to steal something. I mean—” she snorted, “not if you want to get away with it, anyway.”
“He’s royalty,” Eleuia said, crossing her arms and examining him with a smug curl of her lip. “Prince of the underworld, and heir to the throne. No one can take from royalty without permission.”
“Oohh,” Tara said. “So, it’s a hierarchy thing.”
“You know the old saying,” Jayden said. “Don’t look the horse that someone gave you in its mouth, or something like that.”
“Do not look a gift horse in the mouth,” Yousef said, the taller of the twin windthrowers.
The entire group stopped and stared.
Jayden’s jaw dropped. “Since when do you speak English?”
“Always.” Yousef stood from the couch. “My brother and I learned when we were boys. Our father was a scholar from our people.”
“You didn’t think it would be helpful to say something sooner?” Tara said. “You know, just in case.”
“I knew since the moment they arrived.” Marzena pushed a lock of golden hair away from her tiny features. “But there is no need to share something someone wishes to be kept private unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Beigarth cringed away from Marzena. “It’s unnatural for a wee child to have such power. It’s not right.”
Marzena bowed her head politely. “I’m the first dreamwalker you have ever met.”
“And my hope is you’re the last.” The stout Viking rubbed his beard and averted his gaze, mumbling in some kind of Celtic tongue Arwan didn’t understand.
“We’re thankful for your discretion,” Yousef said. “To listen without speaking is the best means to gain knowledge. That is what our father taught us.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.” Renato smirked—not surprisingly. He and Marzena had been friends for as long as Arwan knew his mentor.
Ahmed, the other windthrower, stood from his seat. “Our father taught us our abilities are a gift to appreciate, even though they make us different from our clan.”
“That’s great,” Hawa said sharply. “That’s great. Kumbaya moment over with. Moving on. We know Contessa is still too weak to attack.” She counted the points out on her fingers. “And we know she’s after Arwan’s darker half to give her enough strength to make her pretty much unstoppable. We also know Zanya isn’t exactly on her A-game.”
“If Arwan never gives Contessa what she wants,” Tara said, “we’re safe, right?”
“But if Contessa is weak, she can’t be controlling the tree alone. Who’s backing her up?”
Eleuia chuckled.
Renato looked at her. “Is something funny?”
“I’m just thinking about how absolutely screwed we are.”
Peter glanced around the room. “That’s funny?”
“Who do you think is behind Contessa?” Eleuia studied Arwan. “Who is the one person in this entire universe who has enough power, and would be willing to back up Contessa’s scheme?”
Arwan’s stomach clenched and his lips parted.
There was only one. One who could, and who would support the destruction of the middleworld.
“Why are you staring at him?�
�� Hawa said. “How is he supposed to know?”
“Oh, he knows.” Eleuia pushed away from the fireplace. “He knows, because they happen to be very close.” She scanned the faces in the room, commanding everyone’s undivided attention. “Nobody wanted to listen to me when I warned you all against keeping him around. Maybe now you’ll trust me when I say the half-breed shouldn’t be trusted. He is his father’s son. God only knows what really happened between him and Contessa that he’s not telling us.”
“Ellie,” Renato scolded.
“No.” She narrowed her eyes. “You are all dedicated to Zanya as the guardian, and he is a threat to everything we’ve worked for.”
“Except…” Tara bit her bottom lip. “I mean, I’m only human and all, but Arwan and Zanya bonded. So…doesn’t that mean we’re all on the same team?”
Eleuia huffed. “What it means is he’s deceived Zanya, and he will turn on us the first chance he gets.”
“Ellie!” Renato stepped forward, his dark eyes focused on his sister.
Arwan stayed quiet. In all the years he had known Renato, he had only heard him raise his voice a handful of times.
“You will respect Arwan in his home. I will not tolerate anything different. Is that clear?”
She snapped her jaw shut and shook her head. “You’re all fools, and it’s going to get us killed.” Before Renato could say another word, Eleuia turned and flung open the door, then walked outside.
Arwan drew in a deep breath through his nose, working to calm his nerves.
“I am truly sorry.” Renato gripped the lapel of his dress blazer. “She has not come to terms with her daughter’s bonding. Perhaps Zanya will be able to get through to Ellie once she is well.”
“Aye,” Grima said. “But ye have to know what is wrong with the lass before she falls ill a second time.”
“I didn’t sense anything wrong with her,” Peter said. “Her ability should keep her from getting sick, and should heal any wounds almost immediately.”
Birthright (The Stone Legacy Series Book 5) Page 13