They didn’t notice she had woken up. Funny, Arwan was always observant. Now he looked so wrapped up in conversation that he’d forgotten about the world.
The woman beside him plucked leaves from a plant and replied to his whispers with a sober nod. It might be a good idea to let them know she’d woken up, but she didn’t want to disturb them. The old woman had been so kind, and if Arwan trusted her, Zanya would do the same.
Besides, she had her own reasons to be thankful for the woman’s kindness. She’d given Zanya water and stopped the bleeding from her wound with her herbal remedies. Zanya recalled drifting in and out of consciousness while the woman used several methods to bring her back to awareness. It all seemed like a dream now, though it had been very real.
The underworld was real. Contessa was real. The beast that had stolen Sarian’s head—that was terrifyingly real.
And Jayden…
The anticipation of returning to Moscow was already too much to bear. Whether or not Contessa had returned Jayden’s soul to the middleworld was still unclear. The only way to know for sure was to seek him.
Zanya cradled her stone to her chest and closed her eyes, drawing in deep, cleansing breaths. A sharp pain arched in her side, and made a mental note not to breathe in quite so deep next time.
As she focused on her powers, flashes of light beat like butterfly wings behind her eyelids. First there was darkness and static, followed by the sound of muffled breaths. Not her breaths, but someone else’s. Jayden’s maybe. But she couldn’t see anything. Maybe his spirit was still trapped in Houn’s possession.
Though if that were the case, she wouldn’t be able to seek him. He had to be somewhere in the middleworld.
Suddenly, there was light. Zanya closed her eyes harder. A deep chill froze her to the bone. She shivered, holding the fuzzy image until she identified what was looming above him.
It was a big spotlight. She shivered again.
Someone groaned. “Fuck.”
Zanya sucked in a breath at the sound of Jayden’s voice—cursing, of course. She held the vision, experiencing his every sensation. This wasn’t like the seeking she’d done before. This was more personal, as though she was experiencing everything with him.
Jayden rolled over and fell off the cold surface onto an even colder floor. The vision streaked in a haze of panic, and the breath was knocked out of her lungs. “What the hell…” Jayden rolled onto his back and cradled his ribs.
“Try to stay calm, Jayden.” Renato was there. She recognized his voice immediately.
Zanya peered through Jayden’s foggy vision. He blinked at the fuzzy image of Renato, who stood on the far side of the room.
Zanya’s heart ached at the sight of his lean frame and dark hair.
When Jayden’s focus finally centered, he scanned the contents of the room. Sleek counters with medical supplies organized on trays. A row of silver beds with hoses and drains in the floor. An industrial light fixed to the ceiling.
Was he in a…morgue?
“What. The. Fuck.” Jayden shifted, still freezing cold.
“I understand you may be in shock.” Renato kept his distance. “Perhaps it’s better if you do not move. I am not entirely sure what changes have occurred, if any.”
“Changes?” Zanya strained to keep a hold on Jayden. She couldn’t lose him again, even for just a moment. Not when he was just waking from his ordeal and was clearly confused.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Jayden’s voice drew her back to him, and her grip on the vision grew stronger. Jayden stared at a string tied around his toe with a tag dangling off the end. His muscles ached—as did hers. “What the hell’s going on?”
“You are very lucky to be back.” Renato shook his head, his eyes wide and fixed on him. “I had my doubts, but—” He extended his hand toward Jayden, as if offering proof. “You are very much alive.”
“Then why was I just lying on a fucking steel bed?” Jayden scowled at his foot. “And why the hell is there a tag on my toe?” He tore it off and tossed it aside.
“Peter is on his way. He should be able to heal the rest of your wounds, but…” Renato continued to shake his head, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.
Jayden gathered the sheet in his hand and shifted his bare butt along the cold tile floor. He gripped the side of a steel examination bed and slowly pulled himself to his feet.
His legs wobbled and he groaned, his muscles raw like he’d been beaten with a bat.
Jayden smacked his lips. Thirst tore through Zanya. Her throat tightened and every cell cried out for water.
She had never been so thirsty.
Her vision shifted as Jayden stumbled to a sink. He turned it on, tilted his head under the running water, and drank as fast as he could.
Zanya felt the cool water slide down her throat.
Water dripped over Jayden’s lips and down his chin, and he drank until his stomach couldn’t hold any more.
When he had his fill, he stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and turned off the faucet. Silence filled the room.
He leaned on the counter. “When will Peter be here?” When Renato didn’t respond, Jayden ground his teeth. “Fine. I’ll seek him myself.”
Scalding pain sliced through Zanya’s mind, throwing her back into her own surroundings.
She held her head as her vision continued to be assaulted by light. But this time it was sunlight. The light turned from a painful glare to warm rays, kissing her cheeks. Tree branches swayed above her in the distant breeze.
Jayden was back in the middle world, safe with Renato and Peter looking after him. Even if she didn’t have the energy to seek him for a while, at least she didn’t have to worry.
Zanya inhaled the fresh jungle air, which carried the scent of rain and warm earth. It was a welcome change from the bitter stench of the underworld.
“She lives.” The old woman’s voice was both soft and playful.
Zanya opened her eyes to the woman’s wrinkled face. She offered a smile. “Yep. I live.”
The woman lifted Zanya’s shirt just enough to the see the dried salve packed over the wound. She nodded and smiled softly. “Almost healed. You are very lucky to be alive.”
Zanya swallowed as she recalled the instant rush of panic when Sarian had driven a knife into her gut. She’d had no way for her to fight back or run, not without her abilities or control over her stone. She’d been so helpless, and here in the middleworld, she had to deal with the physical repercussions.
The woman tugged the shirt back over her belly. “Stay here. Rest.”
She stood and hobbled toward Arwan.
He was really here. Alive. Zanya bit her lip as he walked to her, and couldn’t help but reach out to him. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as she could. He hugged her back, and it had never felt so good.
“I thought you were gone. I thought you didn’t make it through the gate. I couldn’t find you there, and with all of the blood and the—” She pulled away from him. He didn’t know. “Sarian. He’s dead. I saw it happen. Some kind of animal from the underworld must have smelled all the blood, and it just—” She was still a little unsure if it was really true.
Sarian had crept into her dreams her entire life, making every night a living hell and every day a reminder she’d eventually slip back into the horror of sleep. She had a difficult time wrapping her mind around the fact was gone. It was over, and he’d never hurt her again.
“It just…tore him apart.”
The old woman stood with her back to them, her hunched figure lingering near bundles of wood and bushels of plants sorted into piles.
Arwan glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Drina. I’ve known her for a long time. She’s like my aunt.”
“Really?” Zanya stole another glance at the woman. “Did you call her here?”
“No. Cualli did.”
“Cualli?
Is she here?”
“I don’t know. Drina hasn’t said much about it, and I haven’t asked. She tends to have reasons why she doesn’t elaborate on these things. I figured it’s better to stay patient.”
Patience was never her best quality.
“Hey.” Arwan’s voice brought her focus back to the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. Her lips parted as heat spread through her belly. Her cheeks flushed. Damn this winter solstice thing.
“Come on.” He took her hand and led her toward the woman. “I’ll introduce you. Then you’ll have to take her advice and get some rest or both of us will be in trouble.” He smirked and escorted her a few yards to where Drina plucked at bundles of herbs.
“Drina, this is Zanya, the guardian. Zanya, this is Tia Drina. She’s a village elder from back home. One of the last.”
The woman slowly straightened her posture, and the light in her eyes nearly took Zanya’s breath away. She had an aura of magic about her that seemed to come directly from her soul. “I know you two have already met, but I thought it would be better to have a formal introduction.”
Zanya cleared her throat. “I…” She paused, drawing a blank. “Thanks, for helping me—us.” Damn it. Of course she’d make a stuttering idiot of herself.
Drina extended her hand. Cualli’s pendant rested in her palm. “T’is belongs to you.”
The wicker symbol was strung on a new chain made of leather string. She took it from the woman’s hand and cradled the emblem against her chest. “Thank you. Thank you for fixing it.”
“A gift from Cualli—you must be very special.” She glanced at Arwan. “Very special indeed.”
Zanya couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t thought about it like that, but getting a gift from a goddess was pretty badass. She tied the emblem back around her neck. She’d thought it was lost forever when Sarian had torn it off her neck before Contessa—
Her features sobered when she recalled what the witch had done. “So, um.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry to be a buzzkill, but we have a problem.”
Drina glanced at Arwan with worried eyes.
“Contessa set us up. What happened in the underworld was her plan from the beginning. She wanted revenge on Sarian and showed up to make sure he got what was coming to him. But she promised she’d return Jayden to the middleworld, and she did.”
“How do you know?” Arwan said.
Zanya bit her bottom lip. “I kind of sought him.”
“You shouldn’t be seeking right now. You need to rest.”
“I know. I know. I just couldn’t lie there wondering. I had to do something.”
“For now let’s stick to using the phone, okay?” Arwan walked to his pack and pulled out the satellite phone, then put it in her hand. “Deal?”
She nodded. “Deal. Speaking of, I’m sure Renato is worried about us. I should call him and let him know we’re okay.”
“Good idea. I’ll pack our stuff.”
She opened the contact list and scrolled down until the selector hovered over Renato’s name. After a moment of consideration, she clicked on Tara’s name below it.
Tara would be totally pissed at her, but Zanya owed it to her to call her first. It rang three times before Tara answered. “Hello?” Static clouded the line. “Hello?”
“Tara!” Zanya’s heart swelled. Hearing her voice was like slipping on a pair of comfortable old jeans. “Tara, can you hear me?”
“Hello?”
She pressed the phone harder against her ear, as if that would help the static go away. “Tara, it’s me.”
There was nothing but static until her voice broke through. “Zanya?” Her tone was hesitant.
“Yeah, it’s me. Is Jayden there? Is he okay?”
Zanya waited for her reply, but she could hardly hear Tara. She smacked the earpiece against her open palm. “Damn it. Stupid phone.” The satellite icon indicated it was searching for a better signal. She held it up in the air, but that didn’t help, so she returned it to her ear. So much for satellite phones having a signal everywhere. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but Jayden is back. Check if he’s okay. Can you do that?”
Tara’s voice was like mere whisper in the distance. “Zanya, I can barely hear you. Where are you?”
Ugh. Zanya raised her voice even louder to break through the white noise. “We did it. We’re coming home, Tara. I’m coming home.”
The phone bleeped and then went silent. A signal lost notice blinked on the screen. She exhaled and dropped her arm to her side, the phone clenched in her fist. They had to get moving—get back to Moscow and make sure Jayden was all right. That meant gathering their stuff, hiking out of the jungle, and grabbing another bus from the village back to civilization.
Luckily Arwan had gotten a head start and was just zipping up their stuffed packs. She walked to his side and handed him the phone. “We have to get back to Moscow.”
He turned to Drina. “We’ll bring you with us if you want. You’re a long way from home.”
“People do not belong in t’e sky. I will get home on my own, just as I got here.”
It was rude to have to take off so quickly, especially after Drina had helped them so much, but Zanya didn’t have a choice. There was no telling what kind of condition Jayden would be in. Even with Peter healing him.
A soft growl rumbled in front of her. It almost sounded like a purr, but there were no house cats in the jungle. Just big ones, with teeth and claws.
Her stomach dropped, and she slowly lifted her head to see a jaguar pacing in front of her. Its tail flickered in the air, ears pinned back with its eyes locked on her.
The jaguar stalked low to the ground as if she were prey. Running wouldn’t do any good. Screaming might just piss it off. She held her pack in front of her like a shield if it charged.
Arwan rested his hand on her shoulder, and the jaguar’s muscles flexed under its speckled fur. He took several steps closer to the animal and then knelt on one knee.
Zanya’s jaw dropped. “What are you doing?” she whispered harshly. “Are you nuts?” She secured her grip on her pack.
As if he had been brought in front of royalty, Arwan bowed his head in silence.
Chapter Eleven
Arwan
Arwan continued to kneel, as his people had done for generations before him when in front of one of the greatest Mayan deities.
The flapping of wings caught his ear, and he dared lift his gaze to see a white owl landing on a low-hanging tree branch. The bird examined him, though it was no ordinary bird.
The large cat circled them like a shark in murky waters. Arwan didn’t want Zanya to be afraid. She had no idea this jaguar—the one she’d undoubtedly spotted before they arrived at the cave, was in fact Balam—the underworld jaguar who roamed the middleworld freely. Unlike the other underworld deities, Balam was not inherently evil.
The owl launched from the branch and spread its massive white wings, catching the jungle breeze, and exposing the bird’s stark-white chest. Before it touched the ground, its wings morphed into a robe of shimmering feathers, and its face changed into the striking features of a woman.
Her feet rested gracefully on the ground, and she stood in front of them, silent and statuesque.
Cualli’s robe of soft, down plumage draped over her milky skin, barely covering her breasts and thighs. Her long legs were shamelessly bare, as were her lean arms and the curves of her torso.
The goddess trailed her delicate fingers over Balam’s back.
His ears twitched at every jungle sound. Balam huffed.
“Forgive Balam.” Cualli’s voice carried through the air like a song. Her skin shimmered like a sea of diamonds and flowers bloomed through the moss where she stood. With every step forward, more moss sprouted to cushion the bottoms of her bare feet, as if the earth wouldn’t allow her skin to touch the gritty ground.
Cualli paused beside him, spilling her radiant energy over him. She was bound to sense the dark
core of his being; there was nothing he could do mask it. Cualli’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I see.” She continued past Zanya to Drina, who hadn’t moved or spoken. Cualli’s now-full smile was as white as freshly fallen snow. The goddess rested her hand on Drina’s shoulder. “Thank you for caring for them.”
Drina bowed her head.
Cualli turned and tilted her head, examining Zanya. Waves of hair spilled over her chest and neck. “Why does the guardian not speak?”
“Uh…” Zanya’s gaze darted between Drina and Arwan, but neither of them intervened.
Zanya was in fact the guardian, and this introduction to Cualli would be the first of many. At some point he would be forced to allow Zanya to make her own way. This was a good place to start.
Cualli held her hand out to Zanya, who hesitated at first, and then rested her hand in goddess’. “Nice to meet you.” Zanya’s voice trembled.
Arwan watched Balam’s reaction. The cat flicked its ear and chuffed with approval.
He had never laid eyes on Cualli. Until this point, she was merely a name in the ancient folklore passed down through the generations. The story of her conception and deliverance to the middleworld was legendary, and one he’d shared with Zanya when they were in Belize. But to see her and Balam, still together after so many years, was like laying eyes on a relic.
“Come, outcast of outcasts. Come beside me.” It took a moment for Arwan to realize Cualli was speaking to him. He did as instructed, and as he walked toward her, Balam followed by his side. The jaguar bared its teeth and let out a low growl, as if warning Arwan not to be a threat. When Arwan reached the goddess, Balam flicked his tail and stood between them, creating just enough distance to ensure her safety.
“Have faith, Balam.” Cualli dragged her fingers down the cat’s back. The jaguar arched his spine and purred, then lay at her feet, still keeping a close watch. “What I find here is a unique sight indeed.” Cualli took Arwan’s hand. Her bright energy sparked against his dark nature. “How do you keep your heart noble, outcast of outcasts?”
Arwan frowned. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) Page 8