The Stones of Kaldaar (Song of the Swords Book 1)

by Tameri Etherton

  “I don’t like it.” Baehlon crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll find Celia and this phantom.”

  More arguing ensued. Rhoane cast Taryn a questioning glance.

  Ebus and I saw Celia on the road to Talaith. We didn’t say anything because we had to be certain she was plotting something.

  Where is Ebus now?

  Taryn blanched at the question.I don’t know. He was following Celia, and then I lost contact.

  “No,” Rhoane said and everyone stopped talking. “Baehlon and Timon will stay here and guard the others. Carina and Taryn will come with me.” He took a few steps before adding to Sabina, “If something is afoot, the best place for you is here, in Taryn’s apartment. Do not, under any circumstances, leave. Faelara, Eliahnna, and Tessa, scout the public areas, but do not engage with Celia or the phantom.”

  “I’ll go with the women,” Hayden took Kaida from Taryn and placed her on Sabina’s lap.

  Rhoane nodded his approval and they left, each turning in opposite directions. Their best option was to separate and canvas as much of the palace as they could, making discreet inquiries to Celia’s whereabouts without garnering unwanted attention.

  Taryn walked as fast as she could without actually running and headed to Celia’s quarters. A maid told her Celia was out but offered to let Taryn wait for her in the sitting room. She made a quick check of the suite, sensing nothing untoward. On her way out, she left a message for Celia that she’d like to meet for tea later—something innocuous that wouldn’t arouse suspicions.

  From there, Taryn went to the place she’d last met with Ebus. She searched the room that led to the formal gardens but found no evidence he’d even been there. Several times, she heard from Carina or Rhoane about their progress. Or lack thereof.

  Taryn checked the library before heading to the throne room. At the huge double doors, a slick coating of ShantiMari clung to her skin.Black Shanti. The phantom had passed that way.

  She called Rhoane and waited until he and Carina were standing beside her before pushing open the doors.

  The darkened room was empty from what she could tell. Carina lit several candles with a flick of her wrist. The action was so quick Taryn didn’t have a chance to follow her Mari. The added light did little to dispel the vacant feeling in the room, though. A thickness settled on her then, as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Like the void.

  Can you feel it too? Taryn asked Rhoane.

  What?

  The weight of nothingness.

  There seems nothing out of place here. It feels the same as always.

  Sword held out before her, Taryn swept the area. Tiny pinpricks crept up her arms the further she moved into the shadows. When she approached the elaborate throne with a moon carved into the wood, she swooned. The room spun once then settled into a discordant replica of what it had been. Rhoane and Carina were there, searching, as she was, but they looked distant, as if a filmy wall separated them. As if a mist had descended around her, blocking light and sound.

  She touched her pendant. Silence. She listened for the familiar hum of her sword, but no songs played in her mind. No melodies to mark her passing. Only a disturbingly lonely silence.

  Taryn reached out to touch the seat but hesitated. Her fingertips wavered above the wood.

  Taryn.

  Rhoane’s voice startled her, and she pulled her hand back, releasing the haze. He motioned that the room was clear, they were moving on.

  Without giving the throne another glance, she left the room, but the sensation she was being watched stayed with her.

  They searched the entire palace, finding neither Celia nor her lover. Aside from the throne room, Taryn sensed nothing and there was no sign of Ebus.

  The hour grew late and, frustrated at their lack of progress, they halted the search. That night Lliandra held an informal feast. The following night there would be a grand ball, but Harvest Eve she liked to celebrate with just her closest courtiers and family. Taryn sat at the table, her foot tapping impatiently until Rhoane placed his hand over her knee.

  Celia was there, as were Marissa and Herbret, all looking relaxed and enjoying the evening’s festivities. Near midnight, exhausted and unable to keep her eyes open, Taryn said goodnight to her mother and sisters. She wanted Sabina stay with her that night, but the Summerlands princess insisted she was well protected with so many people around. Besides, she’d argued, Celia was there and no harm had come to her.

  As a caveat, Baehlon promised to set four guards on Sabina’s doors—two in the hallway and two on the balcony. In addition, her maids would sleep in her rooms and not let the princess out of their sight. Carina volunteered to stay with Sabina, as well. Taryn didn’t like it. But Sabina was adamant. Hayden volunteered to patrol the grounds with Baehlon and Rhoane.

  Outvoted and too tired to argue, Taryn shuffled to her rooms, curled Kaida into her arms, and fell into a fitful sleep. She woke before sunrise and took Kaida outside. While the grierbas snuffled around the bushes, ferreting out rodents, Taryn puzzled over all they’d learned. She still couldn’t understand how Celia became involved, or how Marissa figured into the scheme. Or if somehow Zakael was behind the plot. She had too many questions and still no answers.

  Time was running out. Today was Harvest. The one day of the year when Aelinae had no moons.

  Bring night into day. It made no sense. If Harvest had no moons, then how was it possible to bring night into day?

  She and Kaida walked back to the palace, taking the side entrance near the stables. A figure clad in a black cloak rode straight at her. Across his saddle, wrapped in crimson fabric, was an unmoving body. The wind whipped up a corner and she saw the delicate gold anklet Sabina always wore. He bore down on her, and she leapt aside to avoid getting trampled.

  “Herbret!” She raced after him, demanding he stop, but he was too fast. She threw a net of her ShantiMari over him, but an unseen force blocked it. She raced to the stables, reaching for her sword.

  It wasn’t there.

  “Motherfucker!” She screamed to the sky.

  She spun around, grabbed Kaida by the scruff, and raced to her room. Along the way, she called to everyone’s minds, waking them, telling them what she’d witnessed. When she burst through the door to her quarters, Lorilee jumped in fright, knocking over a pot of tea. Her apologies went unheard as Taryn sped to her dressing room, grabbing clothes at random and throwing them on. She ordered Kaida to stay in her rooms, to keep her maids safe, and then she ran, full-out, to Sabina’s apartment. There, she found the two guards slumped against the wall, their foreheads bleeding.

  Sabina’s maids were unconscious, as well, with no noticeable wounds. Carina was groggy but able to stand. A fine trickle of blood oozed from her ear. Taryn sent her Mari to the girl, searching her for broken bones, mending surface wounds.

  By the time they reached the stables, Hayden was waiting for them, horses saddled. “They aren’t far ahead of us. We can catch them if we hurry.”

  Taryn took Ashanni’s reins and climbed into the saddle.

  Hayden kicked his gelding and took off toward the northern gate. After a worried glance to the palace, she followed with Carina beside her.

  Rhoane, please hurry.

  Chapter 50

  THEY rode hard for close to two bells. None of them spoke, except to give directions. Hayden led them to where he believed Herbret had taken Sabina, to the Stones of Kaldaar. Taryn kept Rhoane abreast of where they were going. He and the empress were less than a quarter bell behind, and every so often Taryn would search the landscape, hoping to see them. Whatever Herbret was planning, she feared it was stronger than her and Hayden.

  They crested a ridge and saw their first glimpse of the standing stones. Two rings—one of polished marble, the other deepest granite—gleamed in the rising sunlight. The way they overlapped was beautiful in its simplicity and proportions. In the space between the two circles, Taryn saw movement. She squinted against the increasing brigh
tness, looking for anything to suggest Sabina was there.

  Four horses grazed beneath nearby trees, and Taryn scanned the area. A man in a black cloak, and a woman, hovered around an altar in the center of the circle. Taryn’s blood stilled when she saw three bodies lying immobile on the marble slate. She kicked Ashanni, spurring the horse to race faster than she ever had.

  Close enough now to see their faces clearly, Taryn watched in horror as they prepared for the ceremony. Celia wore a white gown that showed her pale body beneath the filmy fabric. Blue marks covered her skin, clear to her temple. Her glossy chestnut hair hung loose around her shoulders with flowers woven throughout. She looked innocent, virginal. In her hand, she held an urn and sprinkled liquid from it onto the three bodies lying unconscious on the altar.

  Herbret stood beside Celia, his fat cock enlarged and ready to impale one of the sacrifices.

  “Stop!” Taryn screamed. She choked back a gag, ready to shout again, but he plunged forward, pumping his hips wildly while Celia chanted and tossed the liquid over his head. He moved swiftly, defiling the first girl and moving to the next.

  She pulled Ashanni up short, stopping as close to the stones as she dared. She jumped down and ran to the inner circle. A vague uneasiness swept over her, pushing against her. Hayden darted past, as did Carina, both with swords drawn. Taryn jerked her sword from its scabbard and sliced at the unseen force blocking her.

  Hayden tackled the man mid-ejaculation. His sperm sprayed on the legs of the helpless girl who lay beside Sabina. Taryn cast a quick glance at the women, each dressed in their nightclothes, her gown pushed up to reveal her sex.

  “Carina, cover them and check to see if they are alive,” Taryn commanded as she rounded on the still chanting Celia.

  Herbret had regained his footing and circled Hayden, a sword in his hand, naked beneath his cloak. A shadow flickered at the corner of her vision, but when she looked it vanished.

  “Celia, put the urn down. It’s over,” Taryn said in a soothing voice.

  Celia’s cackle was that of an old crone. “So you have come, Betrayer. It was foretold you would try to stop us, but we are far more powerful than you’ll ever be.” Her face began to crumble as she spoke, the lush ripeness of youth turning to age-spotted wrinkles in a matter of moments. Her nose extended into a crook that nearly touched the top of her lips. Her hair, still adorned with flowers, flowed to her buttocks in a dull sheet of grey.

  A cloud passed over them, blotting out the sun.

  The crone whimpered and flailed her hands, sending a blaze of power at Carina, who was thrown backward by the force. Another blow tossed Hayden into a stone. He shook his head as if dazed.

  “It is time! It must be done now!” Celia pushed past Taryn with the strength of Baehlon, knocking her over, and grabbed Herbret by the cuff of his cloak. Hayden stared at the woman in angry shock.

  “Do it now. Give the vessel your seed.” She resumed her chanting and sprinkling of the liquid, ignoring Taryn and Hayden. Herbret moved in front of Sabina, his cock a grotesque appendage that reached for Sabina, as if alive.

  The crone screamed her chant, and Herbret gripped Sabina’s legs, pulling her toward him as he thrust forward.

  Taryn regained her footing and lunged for the crone at the same time Hayden threw himself at Herbret, grabbing his neck and hurling him away from the altar. They tumbled and Hayden sprang up, his sword at Herbret’s neck.

  Taryn threw a right hook at the crone, catching her square on the temple. She wailed an insult and crumpled to the ground, her chanting ceased.

  “Carina, watch her.” Taryn commanded before seeing to Sabina. She pulled the girl into her arms, sending ShantiMari through her, searching for signs of trauma, healing what she could. Sabina remained unbroken. Herbret hadn’t violated her. She choked back a sob of relief and held her friend tighter.

  The other girls didn’t fare as well. The rape left them bleeding and bruised, and each had a gash near their temples. Taryn carefully covered them as much as she could. Her ShantiMari traveled the length of their bodies, healing what Herbret had defiled.

  The sound of hoofbeats brought their attention to the rise, and Taryn glimpsed Rhoane riding toward them with about thirty others.

  “Carina, check the surrounding area. Use your senses. The phantom cannot be seen, but you can feel him.”

  Carina moved to the outer circles, her ShantiMari flowing out from her, probing the shadows. The sun had disappeared completely, and Taryn looked up to see a bright ring around a dark circle. An eclipse.

  Sabina moaned and Taryn searched her eyes. They were clouded and a bit dazed, but Sabina’s courage fought through the haze.

  “She is still pure. There is time yet to complete the Getting. The others are filled,” the crone rasped, as she cowered against the ground. “There is still time! It must be done. Must fulfill the prophecy. Our lord beckons!”

  “Shut up.” Hayden pulled the crone to a sitting position, and with one swing of his sword took her head clean off.

  “Hayden!” Taryn stared at him, incensed. “That’s not the way it’s done. We needed her.”

  Hayden shrugged Taryn off. “She wouldn’t have told us anything. But this one,” Hayden turned back toward Herbret, who stared up at him, eyes huge with fear, “will squeal the loudest.” Before Taryn could stop him, Hayden plunged his sword into Herbret.

  The cry that came from him sounded eerily like the death throes of a pig. Herbret clutched his chest and fell backward, his face ashen, his cock lifeless. His breath came in gasps, and Taryn sent just enough of her power to keep him alive but not a thread more. They needed answers from him, but he needed to suffer, as well.

  The crone’s words tumbled through her thoughts. Sabina held the power to produce Black heirs. It was in her blood.

  Taryn held her blade out to Sabina. “Place your hand on my sword, Sabina.”

  Her friend looked at her, terror streaking her face. “I can’t. None can touch your sword without the promise of death.”

  The riders were getting closer. She needed to hurry before they tried to stop her. “Touch the damn sword!”

  Sabina gripped the blade, cutting her flesh on the sharp edge. She cried out but kept her hold, her eyes focused on Taryn, a silent plea in them.

  Hayden pulled at Taryn, but she snapped at him to stand back. “Sabina’s blood must be purified.” She concentrated all of her thoughts on Sabina. Blocking out the cries she heard from the riders, Hayden’s objections, Herbret’s whimpers.Sabina. Purity. Cleanse. Innocence. Her love for her friend poured into her sword, into Sabina.

  A shriek came from the mouth of the decapitated crone, followed by a dark plume of smoke that rose into the air, coalescing into the phantom. Sabina cried out again, her grip faltering. Blood oozed from the cut on her palm and out of her nostrils, dripping onto the ground.

  “You’re killing her, Taryn. Stop!” Hayden tried to wrestle the blade from Taryn’s grip.

  The girls who lay unconscious next to Sabina thrashed violently against the marble, their skulls cracking on the hard surface again and again. Hayden stared at them, then at Taryn, and finally at Sabina. Taryn forced more of her power into the sword, her hands shaking as she fought to keep control.

  A streak of fire lit forth from the blade, turning it the color of blood. The demon’s screams echoed over the land. Like Sabina, blood coursed from Taryn’s nostrils, and for a moment, they were connected. She saw the girl’s history, her power, suppressed beneath the taint of Black ShantiMari. Her lineage had always been one connected with the gods.Sabinth Aarendhi. Seventeenth Vessel.

  Through his rape of Julieta, Kaldaar had sired a daughter. Hidden among the people of the Summerlands, she carried in her the future of the Black Arts. Sabina was the seventeenth of her kind.

  Taryn’s sword burst forth in song. Words flowed around them, through them, to the far reaches of the stones, to the sky, and deep beneath the ground. It sang of rebirth.

  Lig
ht from the song filled the phantom. It expanded to blot out the sky, and then collapsed in on itself before exploding into a trillion fragments of dark dust.

  A wind whipped up, scattering the ashes in every direction.

  Taryn looked up to see Lliandra standing several paces from them, her hands outstretched, her Mari a blaze of blue fire springing from her fingertips, swirling through the stones like a cyclone.

  The light from Taryn’s sword paled and winked out. The song quieted. Sabina released her grip on the blade and collapsed. Hayden bent to catch her, cradling her against his chest.

  Taryn, sticky with blood and sweat, staggered against the altar. The lifeless bodies of the two women stared blankly. A black ooze dripped down the side of the marble.

  She turned away from the sight and met Rhoane’s steely gaze. “You should have waited for us.”

  “If we had, we would’ve been too late. As it is, we couldn’t save them.” She jerked her chin at the women.

  Carina returned with a small bundle in her arms. “I found him behind the far stone.” She gently placed Ebus on the ground.

  Several cuts ran the length of his arms, as if someone had tried to bleed him, but he was breathing. Taryn knelt beside the thief and placed her hand on his heart. Rhoane knelt opposite, his hand covering hers.

  “Don’t let him die, Rhoane. There has been too much death already today.”

  A bright shaft of light shone down on them as the moon moved away from the sun. The eclipse was complete. The threat of darkness gone. For the moment.

  At the sound of a single rider, they both glanced up to see Marissa reigning her horse to a stop. “Celia!” She ran past Taryn and Rhoane to kneel beside her friend. “What have you done?” She sobbed, rocking the headless corpse against her bosom.

  “She rode in with you?” Taryn asked Rhoane. He wasn’t watching the crown princess, but looking past the stones.