Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3)

by Theresa Dalayne

  “Renato found something about Jayden’s condition.”

  “Really?” She stretched on her tippy-toes and spied a book splayed open on Renato’s desk.

  Someone tapped her shoulder. Zanya glanced back at Eleuia, who now stood behind her. Zanya gave her a haphazard smile. “Hey.”

  “I bet you’re pretty happy about all this.” She gestured to the book.

  “That depends on what Renato found.”

  “Well, it looks like your zombie friend is going to be okay.”

  Zanya suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “That’s great, but he’s having a hard enough time dealing with what happened without you cracking walking-dead jokes every two seconds.”

  “Fair enough.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender.

  Renato scanned the group. “I have very good news. It seems there has been one other case like Jayden recorded by the scribes.” Renato extended the book. Zanya took it and examined the pages. “His name was Canek, which means ‘black serpent.’ He was a prince set to inherit the throne of Chichen Itza.”

  “Where’s that?” Zanya asked.

  “It’s in central Mexico,” Eleuia replied. “It’s an old Yucatan civilization.”

  “That’s correct.” Renato flipped to another page, scanning the entries. “The scribe’s journal says the same day Canek was crowned king, he met a princess named Sac-Nicte. They fell in love, but she was betrothed to the much younger prince of Uxmal. On the day of the princess’s wedding, Canek arrived and stole his beloved back from the undeserving king. But when she tried to flee with Canek, he was killed by one of the prince’s guards.

  “The princess was heartbroken, and in mourning, she gave all of her riches to a high priestess in exchange for a powerful blood offering as a payment to Houn to return Canek’s soul. Once his soul was returned, the princess ran away with Canek, abandoning their city.

  “The scribe wrote that Canek was never the same after his soul touched the underworld. His heart ceased to beat and his body did not need rest. Fearful his beloved would be afraid of him, Canek told the princess it was her love that kept him alive.”

  Tara sighed and leaned against Peter. “That’s so sweet.”

  “A sweet lie,” Zanya mumbled.

  “Sometimes a small lie is more humane than the truth,” Renato said. “If you know the truth will hurt the one you love.”

  Zanya huffed. “I’d rather have the cold truth than be lead to believe I know a complete stranger.”

  “I have to agree with Zanya on this one.” Hawa shrugged. “The truth is always better.”

  “So I’m gonna be okay?” Jayden asked. “Or does that matter to anyone?”

  “According to the scribe’s journal, the prince retained his immortality in a seemingly healthy state. So, yes, it appears you will be fine.”

  Hawa grabbed her clutch purse from the corner of Renato’s desk. The rhinestones glittered against the light pouring in from the stained-glass windows. “Good. Now we can all go. I have a date tonight.” She twirled in her scarlet dress and then strutted toward the door.

  “I’m afraid you will have to cancel your plans,” Renato said.

  Hawa froze and slowly turned. “Excuse me?”

  He looked at Zanya. “We have training to do.”

  ***

  Arwan

  It took almost more than a day to reach Moscow. The airport was crowded and decorated with wreaths and brightly colored lights. Arwan had nearly forgotten that most people in the city celebrated Christmas this time of year.

  He stepped out of the building into the night air. Rain soaked the roads beyond the covered area, and the bitter cold sent a chill deep into his bones. He flagged a cab and climbed in the backseat, thankful to be off the plane and in a car. The inside of the bright yellow taxi smelled like pine. The driver turned in his seat and flashed a smile. “Happy Holiday.”

  Arwan nodded out of respect, though he didn’t necessarily agree. The solstice was usually the only time of the year he felt whole. This year he was empty and alone.

  “Traveling to see family?” The cabby pulled away from the curb.

  Arwan dug in his bag and pulled out some cash. “No.” He extended a fifty-dollar bill.

  The driver glanced at it in the rearview mirror and took it without turning around.

  “Take me to Red Square.”

  “Sure thing.” The driver was quiet the rest of the drive. The streets of Moscow were pitch-black, except for the reflection of the streetlamps on the rain-covered roads.

  He pulled to the curb and stopped the meter. “Red Square, sir. This is the side entrance.” He pointed toward a narrow street. “Not many people use it, though nothing’ll be crowded this time of night.”

  “Thanks.” He grabbed his bag and opened the door. “Any idea where I can find the food market?” That was where the witch had lured Peter into her home. Once he found his way there, he would be able to find Contessa.

  “It’s a bit of a walk,” he said, pointing across the square. “Once you get to those buildings, you have to go all the way back to the market area. But nobody’ll be open. They went home hours ago.”

  “Thanks.” He stepped out of the cab and shut the door. The car pulled away, casting red light over the ground when it braked at the stop sign.

  Arwan flipped up the collar of his jacket and secured his bag around his shoulder. He followed the cabby’s instructions until he reached an alleyway, tucked in the back of the quiet city.

  Last time he was here, tourists swarmed the streets. Fresh produce was stacked, carts lined up along the back roads. Now the residents slept, sheltered in their homes from the bitter cold.

  Small landmarks led him closer to the witch’s home. A yellow-and-green fire hydrant. A small cafe with odd-shaped chairs. A bronze statue of a stately man in a trench coat. It wasn’t much farther.

  The patter of his shoes striking puddles with each step was a soothing rhythm compared to his chaotic thoughts. He had no way of telling if this would end well, but if he wanted to be truthful with himself, he had nothing to lose even if it went very, very badly.

  He and Zanya may be fated, but he would not try to force her to care for him again. She would have to do that on her own or not at all. And the chances of that happening seemed less and less likely as the days passed, especially with her mother around.

  He turned a corner into a shadowed alley, where. townhouses lined each side of the familiar cobblestone street. He crept down the path and paused at a black door with a silver serpent as a knocker. He squared his shoulders and faced the quant home, where a single candlelight flickered in the second-story window.

  Just beyond that door were the witch, the book, and more importantly, the truth.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Zanya

  Zanya readied herself on the mat in the dojo, dressed in her mom’s old training gear. She crouched while Peter circled her.

  Renato, Hawa, Tara, and her mother stood on the sidelines, watching and coaching her as needed. Jayden and Tara sat on the sidelines.

  Zanya had never trained in hand-to-hand combat, but Renato had insisted she learn how to defend herself in case she ran into another situation where her abilities didn’t work.

  “Be sure to stay balanced and light on your feet,” Renato instructed. Zanya leaned forward on the balls of her feet, pivoting with Peter.

  Peter charged toward her with an aluminum training knife clenched in his hand. Her stomach jumped and she threw up an electric shield. Peter smacked into it and flew across the mat.

  Tara stood from her chair and gasped. Peter skidded to a stop and peered up at Zanya. “No powers.” He groaned as he stood. “That’s the whole point of this.”

  She lowered her hands, and her shield instantly dropped. “I am so sorry. I got scared, and it just happened.”

  Peter smoothed out his clothing and then snatched the training weapon off the floor and held it in front of him. “We’ll go again.”r />
  Zanya nodded and crouched into a fighting stance. “Okay. Ready.”

  Peter charged.

  Zanya leaped to the side and glanced at Renato for instruction. “What now? What if I can’t move out of the way?”

  “Then the next course of action should be to subdue your opponent using nonlethal force. We do not kill unless it is our last option.”

  Before Zanya could respond, Peter charged at her again, this time wielding the knife in his opposite hand.

  Her stomach clenched, and she threw a kick that landed right between his legs.

  Peter’s face flushed, and he doubled over on the mat.

  Eleuia laughed. “That’s some pretty effective nonlethal force.”

  Peter rolled on the floor, cupping his groin with his hands. Zanya crouched beside him, hovering her hands over his body. “Oh my God, Peter. I’m so sorry.”

  Tara rushed over and knelt beside him. She shot Zanya a glare. “Are you trying to kill him?”

  Zanya stood and looked at Renato. “I suck at this. Can we stop?”

  “Absolutely not. But perhaps it is time for Peter to take a break.”

  Tara gripped Peter’s arm and helped him to his feet, and then guided him to the closest chair.

  Zanya hung her head. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  “All right,” Hawa said. She stripped off her jacket and dropped it to the floor, grinning while she approached Zanya on the mat. “My turn.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Zanya asked. “I think I hurt Peter pretty bad.” She bit her lip as Tara activated an ice pack.

  “Stop procrastinating.”

  Zanya sighed. “All right. What next?”

  “Sprinting isn’t just about moving fast,” Hawa said. “It’s about seeing everything around you in as much detail as possible while moving too fast to be attacked. You will pick out details others can’t, and then use your knowledge against your opponent.”

  “I didn’t see details when I was running through Moscow.”

  “No offense, but that’s because you suck at sprinting.” Hawa stretched her legs as she elaborated. “You were moving fast, but not fast enough. Once you hit that sweet spot, you’ll see a whole new side of your ability.” She waved Zanya forward. “Come on. Charge me as fast as you can. No holding back.”

  “Okay.” She crouched like a sprinter on her mark. “Ready?”

  Hawa stood casually with her arms crossed. “Just go.”

  Zanya burst toward Hawa with all of her strength. It seemed like a split second before she had to screech to a stop so she didn’t crash face-first into the mirror lining the back wall.

  Hawa stood behind her on the other end of the mat. “You didn’t even see me move, did you?”

  Zanya shook her head.

  Hawa examined the room. “There’s not enough space in here. We need to move outside.”

  “But it’s raining,” Renato said. “Are you sure it is a good idea?”

  Hawa shrugged. “A little rain never hurt anyone. Besides, it’ll give her some practice in less than ideal conditions. It won’t always be sunny and dry when she needs to sprint like I do.”

  “I think we’re going to stay behind,” Tara said, still nursing Peter.

  Peter gave a thumbs-up. “I’m good,” he grunted.

  Zanya sighed. “I feel so bad.”

  “He’s a healer,” Renato said. “He will be back to new in no time.”

  She was thankful for that, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

  Zanya followed Renato, her mother, Hawa, and Jayden out the back door to the beach. The skies were a deep gray, and the sand was wet and hard with rain.

  “Okay.” Hawa threw her hair in a ponytail and dug her feet into the sand. “Just try to keep up. I’ll start slow.”

  Zanya mimicked her cousin’s stance. “Ready.”

  Hawa nodded. “Let’s hit it.” Before Zanya could respond, Hawa was gone.

  Zanya sprinted forward.

  The sea and cliffs on either side of her blurred into indiscernible smears, though the small roadblocks were still clearly visible.

  A piece of driftwood washed up on the beach.

  A large rock sat in the sand.

  The rain smacked her in the face as she pushed harder to find Hawa. The plump drops of water turned into tiny razors biting at her skin. She finally caught up with her cousin and fell in pace beside her. The ends of Hawa’s hair feathered out into what looked like strokes of watercolor in midnight black.

  “Nice to see you finally caught up,” Hawa said. Her voice sounded so far away. “Let’s pick up the pace. You good?”

  Zanya nodded.

  Hawa pushed ahead. Zanya squinted against the rain and wind, prompting her body to move faster, stronger, more aerodynamically.

  The air rippled, and suddenly everything around her slowed down. The raindrops fell, exploding against the packed sand when they made impact. The waves seemed to pause. Each blade of grass, bent over from the force of the cold breeze, creaked with stress. She heard everything, saw everything so clearly. It didn’t seem real.

  Hawa smiled. “There you go.”

  Her cousin seemed like a completely different person as an expression of joy and playfulness washed over her. Hawa wasn’t just a professional at sprinting, she truly loved it. Now it was obvious why.

  “Is that all you got?” Zanya shouted. There was no telling how far they’d run, but from her best guess, it was at least five miles. “Last one home cooks breakfast tomorrow.”

  Hawa nodded. “Just so you know, I like my eggs over medium.” She pushed forward, flying ahead at an impossible speed.

  Zanya hooked a U-turn just seconds before she spotted everyone gathered on the beach ahead. She skidded to a halt, plowing her feet deep in the sand. They covered their faces with their hands as grains showered over them.

  Zanya smiled, panting. “Oops.”

  Hawa stood with one hand propped on her hip. She strutted back to the house. “And biscuits,” she said over her shoulder. “With apple butter.”

  Zanya dusted the sand off her clothes and looked at Renato, whose prideful gaze mirrored her mother’s expression.

  “I did good?”

  Eleuia stepped forward. “You did great.”

  Zanya’s muscles were suddenly weighed down with exhaustion. She swallowed as waves of dizziness threw her off-balance. “Whoa.”

  Her mother reached out and steadied her. “Take it easy. The vertigo after sprinting that fast can put you on your ass.”

  Zanya used her mom as an anchor until the tornado in her head stilled. “Yeah, no kidding. Will that happen every time?”

  “No. You’ll get used to it. It’ll just take some practice.” Her mother slowly let go of her arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” Zanya smiled softly and let go of her.

  Jayden strutted toward her with a crooked grin. “Pretty impressive. You got moves.”

  Zanya smiled. “Thanks. It was actually pretty cool.”

  Eleuia’s gaze ping-ponged between them and settled on Zanya. “Well, it looks like you need some rest. Maybe your friend here can get you something to eat and keep you company.”

  “I think I can make it to the kitchen on my own.” The vertigo had passed, and now she was just sleepy.

  “Yeah.” Her mother shrugged. “I just thought you could use some company. Plus he’s cute. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

  Zanya’s lips parted. “He’s my friend.”

  “But you guys used to date, right?”

  “Wha—” She shifted her weight. “How do you know that?”

  Eleuia glanced at Renato.

  Zanya exhaled and rested her hands on her hips, glaring at her uncle.

  “Don’t be mad. I dragged it out of him.” Eleuia tugged playfully on Zanya’s hair. “Besides, the dead kid is well-intended, and at least he isn’t evil.” She analyzed Jayden. “Dead, and still an improvement on your last pick.”

/>   Jayden stood silent until her mother left. With his brow raised, he leaned in close to Zanya. “Did your mom just drop a hint about us?”

  “So not her place.”

  The door to the house opened, and Zanya glanced back at Tara, who stood in the doorway.

  “Done?”

  Zanya looked back at Jay. “Do you mind? Even though we live in the same house—in the same wing—somehow I haven’t seen Tara for what feels like forever.”

  His smile faded and he lowered his head. “Oh. No, it’s cool.”

  A streak of guilt ran through her. Besides her and Tara, Jay didn’t have anyone to hang out with. “You want to come?”

  His head popped up. “Really?”

  With everything he’d been through, it wouldn’t be right to leave him. “Yeah, really.”

  He threw his arm over her shoulder, and they started the walk back to the house. It was nice to have Jay back, even if he was a total asshat half the time, and even if he was kinda dead.

  “I miss the hell out of you, Zanya. I mean, when you’re not around.”

  “When am I not around?”

  He paused and then pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “Never mind. Don’t listen to me.”

  “Jay.” She took his ice-cold hand. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks about you. I’ll always be around. You can’t get rid of me.”

  He walked ahead in silence. Before long, a chuckle pushed out of his chest. “Damn it, Zanya. You have to stop doing this to me.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Saying stuff that makes me think you’re not still in love with jungle boy.”

  Her breath hitched, and the ache in her heart flared. “You can’t love someone you never knew.”

  “But you liked the side of him you did know.”

  Her heartache dulled, overrun by resentment. She’d been so stupid. After everything they’d been through, he’d screwed her over anyway. “When it comes down to it, we’re not over because of who he is. I’m done because he crossed a line. He did the one thing I told him was a deal breaker. Lying by omission is just as bad as lying to my face.”