Heart of Stone

by Debra Mullins

  As she sat down cross-legged on the floor in the circle of protection she’d set up, he asked, “What are you looking for in there?”

  “Answers.”

  “About the stones? We know that you need all three to use their greatest power,” he said.

  She raised her brows. “I thought you didn’t know much about Atlantean history.”

  “We have some scrolls from Atlantis. I can’t read the language, but it illustrates pretty clearly that you need all three stones to do … whatever.”

  “The three together do bring the ultimate power,” she said, “but each one individually can provide value, if there is a Stone Singer to link with it. I believe the more of them we have, the more we will cripple the Mendukati.” She stretched, then settled into position. “I know one of them is in Santutegi. It’s just a matter of locating it. One stone may be able to sense the others.” She closed her eyes. “Okay, I’m going in.”

  He could tell it was a difficult journey. She started out singing under her breath, but as the hours passed, her voice got louder and louder, and eventually hoarse. He kept the connection between them wide open as she went deeper and deeper into the stone. Navigating had become easier since she’d cleared a good amount of the trapped emotions out of there. The stone acted less like a needy child and more like the ancient touchstone of wisdom it was supposed to be.

  It was into the wee hours when she opened her eyes and looked at him. She was paler than usual, the green of her irises made more pronounced by the redness of fatigue and overexertion in the whites. She reached out a hand to him and he helped her up from the floor. She groaned as she unfolded her limbs from their fixed position. Clinging to his arm with one hand, she gave the stone back to him with the other.

  “I know where they are,” she whispered. Her knees buckled, and she would have hit the floor if he hadn’t been holding her up.

  “Faith.” He shook her, but she didn’t respond. He could see the pulse beating in her neck, see her chest rising and falling with her breathing. She was unconscious and exhausted. He touched their link and found it as vibrant as ever. She’d just pushed herself too hard.

  He laid her on the couch while he put the Stone of Igarle back in its box and locked it in the cabinet again. Then he scooped her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, his knee protesting, and made his way over the short distance to his room. No way could he make it to the main house, and he didn’t want to wake any of the others.

  Faith was his, and he’d take care of her.

  When he reached his room, he put her on his bed, covering her with the sheet as she was. He stripped off his own clothes and lay down beside her, cuddling her slight body close to his. He closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep seconds later.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Faith woke up snug and warm, a heavy arm around her waist. She smiled, still half asleep, and wiggled closer. The arm tightened and its owner gave a contented grunt. She opened her eyes. Not her room.

  Darius’s room.

  She sat up with a jerk, Darius’s arm dropping away. A glance beneath the sheets showed she still wore yesterday’s clothes—thank heavens—but his bare chest indicated he might not be wearing anything. She remembered yesterday in a rapid picture show in her head. The Soul Circle. Rafe. Being locked up by Darius’s dad. Released. Working with the stone again. Ben.

  Her lips quivered as the last hit home like an anvil on her chest. Ben was dead.

  “Hey.” Darius’s sexy morning voice rippled along her frayed nerves like a cold drink on a hot day.

  “Hey.” She paused, trying to figure out the right way to pose the question. Screw it. Just ask. “So what happened last night? Why am I in your bed?”

  He stretched, that powerful, hair-roughened body practically begging to be licked like chocolate ice cream. His lips curved. “You worked yourself into unconsciousness last night. No way could I carry you up to the house, so I brought you here.”

  “Convenient.”

  “I thought so.” His eyes glinted from beneath half-closed lids. “It’s no secret I like you in my bed.”

  Her pulse skipped, but she made herself focus. “Yeah, well, that part of our relationship is over. This is business.”

  “You just keep telling yourself that.” He stroked a finger along her inner arm.

  “Cut that out.” She yanked her arm away before she crawled on top of him and rode him until the world went away. “I can’t deal with everything else and this, too.”

  He sighed. “This, as you call it, is just healthy sexual attraction between mates.”

  “Mates!” She shuffled backward on the bed, putting a little space between them. “I told you I’m not staying, especially after the way you kept secrets from me. I thought you understood that.”

  “Understood, yes. Agreed with? No.” He tugged on the sheets she was wrapped in, reeling her closer to him. “If Ben’s death taught me anything, it’s that life is short and needs to be lived. So let me tell you straight out: I love you. I want you in my life permanently, any way I can get you.”

  “Are you crazy?” Though her heart leaped at his declaration, she leaned back, trying to put distance between them in the tangle of sheets. She was still reluctant to trust him. “This is war, Darius. War is no time to start talking happily ever after.”

  “I think it’s the perfect time. We don’t know what’s going to happen. Tomorrow might never come.” He gave a yank on the sheets, and she tumbled against his chest, her mouth inches from his. “Seize the moment today. Because today might be all we have.”

  He kissed her.

  She allowed herself to enjoy it for one moment. His taste. That quick leap of her heart, the warmth blooming between her legs, the way her hands itched to curl into that furry chest. Then she made herself break the kiss and sit back. “This isn’t a good idea. Ben is dead. We can’t just let his murderers get away with it.”

  He sighed. “I know. And that wasn’t what I meant.” He tossed the sheets aside.

  She braced herself for the quick hit of lust that a glimpse of his naked body would surely bring. Then she saw he was wearing navy blue boxers. Ignoring the pang of disappointment, she told herself she was glad he’d had enough decency to leave his boxers on. Really.

  He reached over the side of the bed and picked up a pair of jeans, sliding them up his legs before he stood to button and zip. She allowed herself to admire the bunch and ripple of his muscular back. It would be so much easier if she could stay completely angry at him, if his secrets had killed the aching physical attraction. But no such luck.

  Darius sat down on the edge of the bed. “Last night you said you ‘knew where they are.’ Where what is?”

  “Oh, man, how could I forget?” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I know where the remaining two Stones of Ekhia are located.”

  He stared. “What did you say?”

  “One’s in Santutegi. We knew that. It’s heavily guarded in the palace vault.” She pushed back the covers and got out of bed. “That one has been there since Selak himself brought it from Atlantis. The other has been missing since the cataclysm. No one knew where it was, where to look. Until now.”

  He propped his hands on his hips. “Where is it? If no one else knows, maybe we can get to it first.”

  “And have two out of three.” She nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. The one in Santutegi isn’t going anywhere. We can go after that one last.”

  “We? I thought you weren’t sticking around?”

  “I’m seeing this through. Besides, you’ll need a Stone Singer for the lost stone.”

  “I guess. So where is it?”

  She smiled slowly. “Belize.”

  * * *

  Three days later, Faith found herself on a boat in the Caribbean, heading for a tiny, uninhabited island off the coast of Belize. She, Adrian, Darius, and Rigo made up the team the Montanas had sent to recover the Stone of Gerlari—the stone of the Warriors—from the ancient underwat
er tomb where it resided.

  “This sure is a pretty place,” Rigo said, looking out over the clear turquoise Caribbean. “So this underwater cave is on one of these islands?”

  “It wasn’t underwater centuries ago,” Faith said. “It was near the shoreline, but easy to access from the land. Good place for a tomb. Rising seas or earthquakes, maybe both, sank it underwater.”

  “And this is legal, right?” Rigo asked. “We’re not grave robbing or anything?”

  “Darius’s father cleared it through his government contacts,” Adrian broke in. “As far as they’re concerned, we’re just scuba diving.”

  Rigo nodded.

  Darius was piloting the boat. He cut the engine and lowered the anchor. “Okay, gather ’round.” The three joined Darius near the wheel. “We need to get in and get out as fast as possible. We don’t know if Criten’s men or this Azotay character is on our trail. The sooner we get what we came for and get back to Sedona, the better. You three navigate the cave. I’ll stay on the boat as our home base.”

  “One of us can stay if you want to go,” Rigo said.

  “You three are in better physical shape than I am.” He tapped his bad leg. “Better it be me who stays.”

  “Guess we’d better suit up then.” Rigo turned to pick up his oxygen tanks.

  Faith started buckling herself into the gear. Darius came over to help her, lifting the oxygen tanks so she could get her arms through. “Are you okay with this?” he asked. “You said you’ve been scuba diving before.”

  “Once, on my honeymoon. I’ll be okay.”

  “Rigo has extensive experience with this sort of thing, and I’m betting Gray does, too.”

  Her mouth quirked. “Is there anything Adrian can’t do?”

  “Haven’t found anything yet.”

  * * *

  Across the deck, Adrian was methodically donning his own equipment. Getting this stone before the Mendukati did was the goal. Then the Seers would have two of the three stones, and it would just be a matter of getting the third out of Santutegi. The harder they hit the bastards who murdered Ben, the better.

  He still blamed himself. He should have been looking for a more complicated plot after the half-assed attack at the airport. But no, he’d gotten cocky. Figured he was smarter than they were.

  His ego had cost Ben his life.

  He missed the guy. He’d known Ben for years, seen him off and on, more often when Ben had been married to Alishka, his Atlantean wife. After Alishka had died giving birth to Michael, he hadn’t seen Ben as often, not even for Michael’s wedding. But he’d known about Faith. Ben and Faith had bonded over their love of stones. Adrian had known Faith was a Stone Singer, and as he pursued his agenda to return the Stones of Ekhia to the Seers, he’d also known he’d be coming to her at some point once a stone was found. Ben had trusted him to watch out for Faith, and he had, by hooking her up with the Montanas. He hadn’t watched out for Ben, though. Ben was dead, and all that was left was to avenge him.

  Criten’s flunky Azotay had a lot to answer for. And Criten, too, if he ever came out of hiding. Hopefully the Mendukati had no idea what the Seers were up to. Hopefully, they thought all of them were still in Sedona.

  Adrian Gray. The whisper in his mind made him pause. He recognized the voice, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew it. I am Azotay.

  Damn it. So much for secrecy.

  What do you want? he sent back.

  I want you, Adrian Gray, for erron-ka. Meet me on the east beach of this island.

  Erron-ka. Warrior’s challenge.

  The erron-ka was an ancient ritual, originally used when one Warrior wanted the lands or possessions or woman of another. Over the years it had changed to more of a battle to prove which Warrior was superior over the other. He hadn’t fought one since he was a teenager. Had no desire to fight one now.

  Time had just become of the essence.

  “Azotay’s here,” he said to the others. “He just communicated with me.”

  “What! How did they even know we were here?” Darius demanded.

  “I have no idea,” Adrian said. “But they’re here, so we’d better get moving. Get that stone and get out of here.”

  “Copy that,” Rigo said. He put his regulator in his mouth and backed into the ocean with a splash.

  Adrian Gray, you have not accepted the challenge.

  Adrian ignored the voice and continued to get his gear on.

  Adrian Gray, you will answer me!

  Faith took her position with her back to the water.

  Adrian Gray! Or should I call you Atlas Itzal?

  Adrian froze. He hadn’t heard that name in years. No one knew that name, or rather, no one should know that name. He’d been Adrian Gray ever since he’d reached manhood.

  Answer me, Atlas. Will you come, or do my men kill your friends?

  Adrian watched Faith launch herself into the water. She had Rigo to watch her back. If Adrian distracted Azotay by accepting his challenge, then they might have a better shot at getting out of here with the stone. He unfastened the tanks and shrugged them off.

  “Gray, what are you doing?” Darius demanded.

  “I’m going to meet him,” Adrian said, stripping off the last of the scuba gear and dropping it on the deck.

  “Are you nuts? This guy is a killer!”

  Adrian smiled. “So am I.” He headed for the side. “I’ll swim over and cut across the island to the east beach. Keep him busy and hopefully buy Faith and Rigo some time.”

  “I don’t like it,” Darius said.

  “Noted,” Adrian replied, and dove into the water.

  Azotay, I accept your challenge.

  * * *

  Faith and Rigo started swimming for the cave, expecting Adrian to fall in behind them. Instead he shot past them at a ridiculous speed, leaving a wake of bubbles behind.

  She reached for him telepathically. Adrian? What’s going on?

  Going to confront Azotay. You two get the stone, and I’ll see you back on the boat.

  Going to confront Azotay? Her blood chilled. The Mendukati had found them.

  Rigo swam to her and pointed to his wrist. They were running out of time. Pushing her fear aside, she nodded and fell in beside him as he swam for the underwater cave. The sooner they got the stone, the sooner they could get out of here.

  The Stone of Igarle had imprinted a map in her mind. She took the lead, guiding them to the nearly hidden entrance.

  The tunnel snaked into the solid rock, taller than it was wide. At one time it would have been a narrow, curving passageway that people would have walked through. Now it was a dark tunnel with no light. If not for the underwater flashlights they carried, she would have been lost.

  The rock hummed around her, its song like a lullaby. Enveloped by the dark, surrounded by stone, Faith’s fear fell away. The journey reminded her of her forays into the consciousness of the Stone of Igarle. There was something peaceful about the dark, about the stony corridor, that eased the pain of Ben’s death that still seared her heart.

  The tunnel curved upward—uphill, had the cave still been above the sea—leading them deeper into the Earth and closer to the missing stone. As she swam, she caught a glimmer of light ahead. She increased her speed. The glimmer became a glow that filled the water around her. She swam toward it, and her head broke the surface of a pool.

  Rigo popped up beside her. They both tipped their heads back. The roof of the cave stretched up several stories above them. The illumination of the cave came from an opening on the side, halfway to the top. Just enough sunlight got in to cast reflections from the water onto the walls. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. Beside them was a wide outcropping. Dark openings in the wall behind it hinted at other passages and other caves.

  Rigo pulled his regulator from his mouth and took an experimental breath. “A little stale,” he said, “but the opening up top probably keeps enough fresh air circulating that we don’t need our gear.”
/>   Faith took out her own regulator. “Any idea how to get on that ledge? I doubt there’s a ladder.”

  He laughed. “You’re right about that one. Let’s get closer. Maybe there’s enough rock that we can make our own ladder.”

  They managed to use submerged rocks to clamber up the edge of the outcropping, hauling themselves up and out of the water.

  “These tanks are so much lighter in the water,” she groaned, sliding her air tanks off. She set them out of the way.

  “I’ll just keep mine. They don’t bother me.” Rigo put his hands on his hips. “So, where do we start?”

  “Give me a minute.” She closed her eyes and reached out with her senses, the song of the rock all around her vibrating in her throat. All of it sang together, connected and alive. She searched for one melody that was different from the others. Thought of Igarle and its song. Looked for one like it.

  She found it finally, a lonely tune, whisper-soft, ancient. She reached for it, stroked it in her mind, coaxed it nearer. I am the Stone Singer.

  The stone responded, its voice crackling like tissue paper. I am Gerlari.

  Gerlari, the stone of the Warriors.

  Help me find you, she sent.

  The images poured into her mind. The caves had been used for many things over the centuries: sacred rituals, burials and cremations, sacrifices, and even a source of pure water.

  Turning on her light, she went into the left-hand cave, following the ancient whisper guiding her way. She stepped where she was shown to step and did not disturb anything else, though she would have loved to have more time to explore. Rigo was right behind her. She was aware of calcified pottery, some shattered on the floor, and the glimmer of the occasional crude mirror. Faces were etched in rock. In one corner, a pot sat trapped beneath a long stalactite formed by the calcification from dripping water ancient people had once collected.

  The narrow cave opened into a bigger chamber. Here there were bodies.

  Her flashlight caught on human bones that glittered. The first skull startled her, but she quickly realized that the diamond-like sparkle came from crystallization of minerals on bones that had lain untouched for over a thousand years. Skeletons leaned against the walls or were wedged in crevices. Some were very small—children, perhaps. Had these people gotten trapped in the cave with no way out?