The Omaja Stone Page 12

  “Yes.”

  She yawned lightly.

  “Sleep if you wish.”

  “But then you have to hold me up.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes.

  “Yajna, are you married? You’ve never mentioned a wife.”

  He didn’t answer right away, leaving her in a little suspense. Then finally, “I am unmarried.”

  “How old are you, if I might ask?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  She was surprised by that. He seemed older, wiser than his age. “Do you wish to marry?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I haven’t given much thought to marriage.”

  “Me either.” That was a total lie, at the moment. She normally tried not to think about it, but it wasn’t easy to suppress those thoughts while spending hours in a strong, handsome man’s company.

  “I have a confession to make,” she ventured after a bit.

  “What?”

  “I wanted to use the Omaja stone to read your thoughts this morning while we were lying together in the tent.” And now I’m feeling that temptation again.

  He said nothing for a long moment, making her a little uncomfortable. Finally, he asked, “Why didn’t you?”

  “I decided it was wrong to do so.”

  “What did you want to know about my thoughts?”

  “What you would do if I rolled over and put my arms around you.” There, she’d said it. She was feeling exhausted and rum-dum from the long overnight ride, not fully in possession of all her faculties, and her attraction to him was clawing at her insides with a vengeance at the moment.

  He made no response.

  She blushed, embarrassed. “I apologize—that was too forward of me.”

  Still he said nothing. She dropped her hands away from his waist, swallowing down her inner mortification.

  He reached back to grasp her right hand, pulled her close to his torso, and pressed her arm around his waist. “No apology necessary,” he said softly.

  Behind his back, Jiandra closed her eyes and mouthed “thank you” to the heavens, her heartbeat racing. She hoped he couldn’t feel it thumping against his back. Not knowing what more to say, she wrapped her left arm around him as well and tucked her head against his back, enjoying his warmth and strength. At some point afterwards, she drifted off to sleep.

  #

  She awoke just as the sun was peeping over the eastern horizon. They were climbing a winding mountain trail with a gentle incline. She blinked sleepily, still resting her cheek against Yajna’s back, hugging his torso for warmth.

  Eventually they reached a cave’s entrance, and he halted the horse.

  She sat up straight. “Are we here?”

  “We’re at the crystal caves. The hideout I spoke of is in this area.” He dismounted, reached up to grasp her waist, and pulled her down from the horse’s back.

  She stood on stiff, aching legs.

  “There is a hot spring inside this cave. The water will ease your muscles and joints.”

  “Really?” She perked up.

  “Wait here while I take Otto to the stream nearby, and I’ll show you.”

  She nodded and wrapped her cloak tightly around her torso. While he was gone, she examined the entrance to the cave. It was lined with beautiful, multi-faceted shards of luminescent green quartz that shone in the faint morning sunlight.

  Yajna returned, carrying her saddlebags. She smiled at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. His expression was grim, his silvery eyes seeming to hold some inner turmoil she couldn’t quite decipher. He looks exhausted, she thought guiltily. Poor fellow hasn’t had much rest on this trip. I’ll make sure he ends up with enough coin to have made it worth his while.

  He took her hand and led her into the cave. They followed a trail that wound around a curve and then descended gently for a few feet, opening up to a large, warm inner room that was illuminated by a crack in the rock overhead, allowing a bit of the morning light to filter through. In the center was the pool he had mentioned. Jiandra saw gentle steam rising off its surface; the sound of water dripping into the pool from somewhere echoed off the inner surfaces of the cave with a pleasantly pitched plop-drop, plop. With the silvery-green crystalline glow of the walls, the ethereal mist on the surface of the clear pool, and the shaft of blue light slanting across the room, the space was otherworldly and enchanting.

  “Beautiful,” she breathed. “What are these walls made of?”

  “Aventurine. It is a common mineral in Nandala. Would you like to soak in the pool?”

  The steamy water looked very inviting. Did he plan on joining her? Scandalously, she hoped so. “I’d love to, but what about the assassin?”

  “I didn’t see any sign of him, but I’ll keep watch outside while you soak in the pool.”

  She was slightly disappointed by that arrangement, but saw the wisdom in his plan. “All right.”

  “I’ll be outside if you need me.” With that, he set down her saddlebags and left her alone.

  Jiandra quickly shed her cloak and shoes, then slipped out of the rest of her clothing, her naked skin prickling. Wearing only the Omaja pendant, she dipped her toes into the water. It was hot but comfortable enough to soak in. She stepped onto a rock ledge beneath the water’s surface and down into the pool, sinking into it up to her neck with a blissful moan.

  She washed her hair and then swam around the circumference of the steamy pool, exploring. She found a small concave boulder to sit on where she could lean back against the side of the pool, and relaxed there, enjoying the feel of the deliciously hot water buffeting her aching body. The Omaja stone’s inner light glowed just under the surface of the water, adding to the mystical ambience of the pool. She closed her eyes and lost herself in indulgent fantasies of a tall, strong, handsome hero come to help her save the Nandals and restore peaceful harmony to Villeleia. His firm, sexy lips were bending down toward hers, his silver eyes full of lusty desire…oh, and his shirt would be off, yes, definitely no shirt, so she could enjoy the sight and the feel of his muscular shoulders and chest…

  Without warning the chain of the Omaja stone lifted from around her neck. A blade appeared in its place and pressed itself under her jaw before she could scream for Yajna. She froze, not daring to breathe.

  There was a slight scuffling movement behind her. She flinched as the knife fell into the pool, just to the right of her leg, and she turned to face her attacker.

  The hooded assassin was holding the chain of her Omaja stone in one hand and fighting Yajna off with the other. The Omaja crackled angrily with white-hot lightning. The assassin yelped and dropped it to the cave floor, then drew a dagger from his boot just as Yajna leapt at him. The assassin performed some trick with his arm and slammed Yajna to the ground with a solid thud. Yajna kicked the knife from the assassin’s hand, flipped onto his feet, and lunged for the assassin’s legs, pulling him down. He straddled the assassin, his hands at the villain’s throat.

  The Omaja lay just beyond Jiandra’s reach. She rose partially out of the water and groped for it over the side of the pool. As she stretched her hand toward it, it glowed brighter, then lifted itself off the ground and flew into her palm as if drawn by a magnet.

  She looped the chain over her neck, heaved herself out of the pool, and grabbed up her cloak. Holding it to her chest for cover, she drew her dagger from its sheath.

  “Stop, assassin! We’ve come to arrest you!” Her voice was trembling as badly as her hands.

  Both men glanced at her. Taking advantage of the distraction, the assassin shoved Yajna off his chest and flipped himself onto his feet with the same lithe movement Yajna had just made. His hood fell away from his face as he backed up a bit, his breathing labored.

  Jiandra stared at him. His face was identical to Yajna’s. She couldn’t breathe; she looked at Yajna, uncomprehending.

  The assassin shouted at Yajna in rage. “Why did you stop me?”

 
Their voices were also identical. A chill ran over Jiandra’s spine.

  Yajna stared at his twin, hands on hips, trying to catch his breath.

  Suddenly, the twin rushed Yajna, shoving him back against the wall of the cave, crushing the air from his chest. Yajna grabbed him and performed some complicated maneuver to twist his arm until he staggered back in pain, muttering a string of what sounded like obscenities in Nandalan. The twin managed to free himself, then swung around to punch Yajna in the face as hard as he could. Yajna reeled, his lip gushing with blood, and his twin tackled him. He threw Yajna onto his back, straddling him with his hands around his throat.

  “Why did you stop me, Yajna? You selfish bastard!” Furious tears streamed down the twin’s face.

  Yajna pulled at his twin’s hands, gasping for air.

  “She’ll kill Svana,” the twin cried, moving off Yajna to sit on the ground. He propped his elbows on his knees and hung his head in defeat.

  Yajna sat up, swiping at the blood on his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He watched his twin for a moment, then moved closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. The twin leaned his head back against the wall of the cave and buried his face in his hands.

  Jiandra found her voice. “Your twin is the assassin, Yajna?”

  “No.” Yajna slowly rose to his full height, his clothes ripped, his face, hands, and knees bleeding with lacerations. “I am.”

  The blood drained from her face. “You are?”

  “Yes. I shot the arrow at your queen. And I was supposed to take your stone and kill you as well.”

  She was utterly confused. “Then why did you stop him from doing it?”

  Yajna looked away.

  Anger filled her chest. “Why do you want to kill me? Why does he want to kill me?”

  He took a deep, painful breath, holding his ribcage. “It’s a long, complicated story.” He glanced back at his twin and said something to him in Nandalan.

  The twin pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head no.

  “I am going with her,” Yajna said louder, in Villeleian. “I am going to let her turn me in to the castle authorities.”

  “No. I won’t let you do that, brother.”

  “You cannot stop me, Yavi. Go see about Svana. Go, now! There may still be time.”

  Yavi stared at him.

  Yajna shoved his shoulder, hard. “Go, you thickheaded arse! I’ll meet you at the camp outside Caladia tonight.”

  Yavi nodded, and then ran out of the cave and was gone.

  Yajna turned back to Jiandra. “Are you injured?”

  She shook her head no. She hardly knew what to say or think. Like a naïve fool, she had trusted him blindly from the moment they’d met, traveled with him on her horse for two long nights, slept peacefully next to him in her tent, and now he stood facing her as a deceiver and a murderer. The assassin. And even knowing what he was, something in her treacherous heart was rejecting the thought of handing him over to the executioner.

  “I don’t want it to be you,” she whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

  He looked away. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Alone, Jiandra cried softly. She quickly dressed herself, then combed out and re-braided her damp hair with trembling hands. She donned her cloak, repacked and grabbed up her saddlebags, and emerged from the cave with her dagger drawn, just in case.

  He saw her tear-stained expression and the blade pointing at him. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  “Yajna, I…you were lying to me, the whole time?”

  His jaw tightened. “Yes, I did lie to you. But not about everything.”

  Without taking her eyes off him, she dropped the saddlebags to the ground and gripped the hilt of the dagger in both hands. “You could be escaping to Nandala right now, you know. We are almost at the border.”

  “Yes. I could.”

  “Why aren’t you, then?”

  He was silent, silvery gaze impenetrable.

  “Why didn’t you let your brother kill me?”

  “Because you are trying with everything in you to give my people hope, Mahitha. I don’t want to stop you; I want to help you. I am turning myself in. You have my word on that, for what it’s worth to you now.”

  Jiandra studied him, still brandishing her dagger.

  “If you will go with me back to Kingston and take me to your queen, I swear on my life you will be unharmed along the way by either me or my brother. I swear it, Mahitha.”

  #

  Cloaked and hooded, Yavi galloped at full speed, arriving at Gerynwid’s estate on the outskirts of Caladia by nightfall. Thanking Tejeshwar silently that he hadn’t been stopped or questioned along the way, he dismounted and scaled the wall surrounding her manor.

  He landed soundlessly on his feet in the courtyard and crept toward the house. He was halted by Savager, who paced in front of him, baring his teeth.

  “Get out of my way, beast,” Yavi snarled, drawing a scimitar in each hand.

  Savager let out a derisive growl. “Fool. Unless you have the stone, I’ll rip you to shreds.”

  Yavi laughed coldly. “This should be entertaining. Come and get me, dog.”

  Savager lunged forward, and Yavi spun, swinging both swords in a spiral arc. The wolf’s head bounced away from his twitching body, and Yavi spat on the ground near it before continuing toward the manor. He ducked under an archway and stole down the back steps to the servants’ quarters, heading for Svana’s room.

  He threw the servant girl’s door open to find Gerynwid standing there, hands on hips, a wicked smile on her face.

  “Looking for someone?” she crooned.

  Yavi shoved her roughly aside; she hit the stone floor with an indignant shriek. He searched Svana’s closet, then left to run up the stairs with Gerynwid at his heels.

  She transformed herself into a plume of smoke, snaking past his legs and reappearing as human in front of him as he reached the first landing.

  “You should not have done that, you filthy Nandal!” she screeched, pointing a long, curved fingernail in his face. Her face twisted into a picture of furious rage, and her arm changed into a fanged black viper that lunged for Yavi’s neck.

  Yavi’s scimitar sliced off its head with a quick flick of his wrist, and he shoved Gerynwid aside again, leaving her howling on the floor, clutching her bleeding, wounded hand. He dashed up the next set of stairs.

  Gerynwid shapeshifted into a blackwolf and bounded up the long staircase after him, catching up to him just as he entered the tower room.

  He gave her a patronizing look. “A dog, Sorceress? How fitting.”

  “I’ll devour you!” she snarled, pacing, limping on her injured paw.

  “Where is Svana?”

  “Where is my stone?”

  “Were you not spying on us today in your fountain? You cannot take the stone from this woman, you selfish, imbecilic witch! No one can carry the stone but her. It burned my hand with lightning as I tried to hold it.”

  “Sniveling weakling!” the blackwolf growled, crouching for an attack.

  Yavi lunged at her with both swords and sliced at her neck. She shapeshifted into smoke just before they made contact.

  “Fight me, witch!” he demanded. “Where is Svana?”

  The smoke transformed into a ghost image of Gerynwid. Yavi sliced through it uselessly, and she cackled. Her voice echoed hollowly in the stone walls of the tower room: “I fed your beloved Svana to my blackwolves for breakfast!”

  “Prove it!” Yavi cried hoarsely. “Prove you do not have her locked up here somewhere alive!”

  “The remains of her mangled corpse are still in their pen—go and see for yourself!”

  He shoved her precious scrying fountain to the stone floor, where it shattered into pieces, splashing water across the room. While she gaped at it, he dove headfirst toward the tower window. Gerynwid shapeshifted quickly into her human form and fired a bolt of lightning at him, which glanced off his boot and hit the wall. Pla
ster and stone crumbled to the floor as he exited the window. He landed painfully on a small section of roof below, lowered himself over the edge, and dropped to the ground near the blackwolf pen.

  The griffon vulture came flying out of the tower window as he limped to the cage, grasping the bars in his hands and frantically scanning the interior. Two blackwolves paced inside, growling. He spotted something at their feet that made his heart lurch painfully in his chest. A pale, delicate human hand with Svana’s tiny braided leather bracelet still fastened around its wrist.

  Yavi shut his eyes, his heart withering inside him. “Nooooo!”

  The griffon vulture swooped low overhead and tried to slice at the back of his neck with its razor-sharp talons. Yavi dove to the ground and rolled; the talons missed. He scrambled to his feet and fled across the courtyard, the fowl close on his heels. He drew swords, leapt into the air, and spun around, both scimitars flying. Just as her talons sank deeply into his arm, one of his blades made contact and sliced the vulture’s chest open. She let out an unholy screech and tumbled to the earth.

  Cradling his torn, bleeding arm, Yavi stumbled toward the wall surrounding the estate, managing to climb it and drop himself to the ground on the other side. He struggled to his feet and awkwardly hoisted himself onto the saddle of his horse, then kicked the horse into a gallop and fled.

  #

  Gerynwid transformed into her human form, lying on the ground gasping for air. She looked down at her chest. An angry red welt across her breastbone poured blood down the front of her white gown. She clutched at it, wailing in rage. Then she saw Savager’s severed head lying nearby. Her bloodcurdling scream rang out to the heavens and beyond.

  EIGHTEEN

  On the ride south toward Caladia, Jiandra wrapped herself in a blanket and gave her cloak to Yajna so he could pull the hood low over his face. They wanted to avoid being hassled by Villeleian guards or soldiers before they could reach his brother at the campsite.

  Riding behind him, Jiandra kept one hand on the hilt of her dagger, lost in confusing, angry thoughts. She should have recognized all along that Yajna was the assassin she hunted. It made perfect sense considering his physical skills, his bearing and demeanor—all the things that had seemed so wonderful to her at the time. The truth was, she’d ignored all the signs because she was so attracted to him, like a lovesick imbecile. Like a complete fool.