The Omaja Stone Read online

  “You mean harm to Solange. Don’t think Yajna and Yavi didn’t tell me about your plans to usurp the throne of Villeleia.”

  “I will take care of those traitorous fools soon enough,” Gerynwid scowled. “Well, which will it be, then, Jiandra? Rafe’s life or Solange’s?”

  Jiandra hugged Rafe close and sobbed against his hair, rocking him. She couldn’t answer. Even if Gerynwid did heal him, Jiandra didn’t see a way that she could get Rafe out of the tower and away from the sorceress safely without the Omaja’s protection. If she killed Gerynwid now, she would lose Rafe forever, but at least Solange and Villeleia would be safe from the evil witch’s schemes.

  “I can heal your brother and awaken him. Give me the stone.”

  Jiandra gently laid Rafe back down on the pallet and rose to her feet to face the sorceress, tears streaming down her face. She knew that she needed to kill Gerynwid before the sorceress could persuade her to give her what she sought. Jiandra gripped the Omaja in her left fist, drew her dagger with her right.

  Gerynwid backed up a step. “You would choose Solange over your own flesh and blood? The brother you raised as a son?”

  Jiandra hesitated and glanced back at Rafe, her heart twisting painfully. “I do not believe that you will let us go. How could I ever trust you to release us alive?”

  “I see that I cannot convince you on my word alone that I will let you go freely. All right, I propose a plan. I will replace Rafe’s heart but retain the healing potion he needs to come out of the trance. You may carry him down to the courtyard and position yourself by the gate. I will watch from the tower balcony just outside this room while you dig a hole and bury the Omaja in the ground there. You can bury it as deep as you like; I will wait. Once it’s buried, I will toss the bottle with the potion down to you and say the incantation so that you can administer the potion to Rafe. He will awaken, and you can make a run for your horse. Even if I shapeshift and fly down from my window, I would still need to dig up the stone, giving you plenty of lead time to reach the safety of Caladia’s city gate. I have no desire to battle the entire Caladian guard to kill you.”

  Jiandra considered this plan, looking for loopholes. “What happens to Solange?”

  “Why let that concern you right now? Perhaps Solange will step down peacefully, and I may let her live as well.”

  “I don’t believe you. You will try to kill her.” We could keep Solange under armed, vigilant watch. Perhaps I could send a courier message that would reach Kingston before Gerynwid would, to warn the castle.

  “In any case, you would have your brother back alive and well and can return to your distraught siblings. What would your brother Elio and your sister Gracie do in your place? What would they urge you to do?”

  Elio would be torn as I am because he loves Solange, but Gracie…Gracie would not understand. She would want her little brother back. A sob clogged Jiandra’s throat, and she glared at the hated face of the sorceress, wanting to rip her apart right now with her dagger for forcing them all into this unthinkable situation. She gripped the hilt of the dagger, raised it, and took a step toward the witch.

  Gerynwid’s eyes turned a brilliant red, glowing with a malevolent light. She snarled, “I warn you, Jiandra, if you kill me, your brother will remain in that trance for eternity. You’ll bury him half-alive!” She ran to the altar and grabbed up the silver tray holding Rafe’s little heart. It was beating erratically, as if struggling desperately for life. “What will it be, Jiandra? Make your choice!”

  Jiandra released an agonized sob, lowered her dagger, and hung her head. Forgive me, Solange. “Replace the heart,” Jiandra heard herself say. “But one false move and I will not hesitate to hack you to pieces, while you can do nothing to hurt me, Gerynwid.”

  Gerynwid grabbed up her bejeweled knife and hurried to Rafe’s side with the tray, kneeling beside the pallet. Jiandra stood over her, watching with a mixture of horror and hopefulness as she sliced open his chest and pushed the frantically beating organ inside, whispering incantations under her breath as she worked. Gerynwid magically closed the wound with her hand.

  Jiandra roughly shoved her aside, holding the Omaja in her left hand and placing her right over Rafe’s face, focusing Healing. Perhaps he would awaken without Gerynwid’s potion.

  “It won’t work, but try as you will.”

  Rafe lay deathly still. Jiandra released a sigh of resignation. She gathered him into her arms, cradled him against her chest, and struggled to her feet, turning to face the witch. “This potion of yours had better work, or I will come back for you.”

  “It will work. Go down to the courtyard. I will mix the potion and come out on the balcony.”

  Praying she had made the right decision, Jiandra left the tower room with Rafe in her arms. He was heavy, and getting him all the way down the stairs was laborious, but she pressed on, bitter tears streaming down her face. When she emerged from the front door of the manor at last, she was again greeted by the pacing blackwolf.

  “Reaper, back to your pen! Leave her be!” Gerynwid shouted down from the tower balcony. The creature glanced up, then reluctantly turned and disappeared into the shadows around the side of the mansion. “All right, Jiandra. See, I have the potion here.”

  She saw something glowing pink in Gerynwid’s outstretched hand, high above.

  “Bury the stone. As deep as you like.”

  Jiandra settled Rafe gently on the ground and drew her dagger, stabbing it into the earth and lifting a clod of moist dirt. The digging was hard work, but after several minutes, she had managed to make a decent-sized hole about half a foot deep. Arms and shoulders exhausted from the labor, she glanced up to see Gerynwid still standing high above, watching. Jiandra picked up the Omaja stone. She was overcome with a sudden, deep revulsion toward removing it from her neck, that almost made her wretch—she felt as if she were abandoning it, abandoning Zehu, abandoning Villeleia and all that was sacred. It was as if the Omaja were a part of her own soul.

  She glanced at Rafe, lying there in his undead state.

  She couldn’t stop now and leave her brother like that for eternity. She forced herself to lift the Omaja from around her neck and drop it into the hole, then pushed the small piles of loose dirt on top of it, her entire being feeling the pain of the severance of the stone’s bond with her. By the time she finished covering the hole, she was sobbing aloud, nauseated. She rose to stomp the earth down over the hole as hard as she could with her boots. Once she’d done the best she could to seal the hole, she stood on top of it.

  Gerynwid leaned over the balcony, observing intently.

  “All right, Sorceress. Your move!” Jiandra shouted hoarsely. “If he doesn’t wake up, I dig the stone back up myself!”

  Gerynwid held up the glowing pink bottle. She tossed it forward in an arc. It turned over and over, falling the five stories down to the ground to land with a soft thud in the grass near Jiandra’s feet. Jiandra scooped it up.

  “Lift his head and pour it in his mouth,” Gerynwid called out.

  Jiandra dragged Rafe a little closer to the gate. “Open the gate!”

  It swung open, and Jiandra positioned herself so that they could have the clearest possible flight out of this hateful place. Kneeling to hold Rafe’s upper body against her knees, she jerked the cork free from the small bottle with her teeth. She opened his jaw and placed the mouth of the bottle to his pale lips. She glanced up one last time to make sure Gerynwid was still on the balcony, then quickly poured the glowing pink liquid into Rafe’s mouth and closed his jaw.

  High above, Gerynwid shapeshifted into the vulture, and flapped her massive wings.

  Rafe’s eyes opened and he sucked in a sharp breath. Jiandra tossed the bottle aside, grabbed her brother up into her arms, and ran.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Jiandra pushed a still-dazed Rafe up onto Tiber’s saddle and hoisted herself up behind him. She grabbing up the reins, she kicked Tiber’s flanks, and they were off, flying through
the woods at a full gallop toward Lavender Road. Jiandra leaned forward over Tiber’s neck as far as she could with Rafe in the way and urged him on, refusing to look back. She tried not to think of the precious stone she’d left buried in the ground on that hideous, foul estate, or of the griffon vulture that could come flying after them at any moment.

  #

  She need not have concerned herself, Gerynwid thought with a gleeful laugh as she landed on the ground. Chasing that inconsequential girl down is the last thing I am interested in doing right now. She changed back to her human form and went to the storage shack near the wolf pen to retrieve a small shovel

  She hurried to the location of the buried Omaja stone and began digging.

  At long last, she hit metal. She shoved her hand into the earth and pulled the chain free from the packed dirt. The Omaja glowed a dark, murky purple as Gerynwid brushed the soil away and caressed it in her hands.

  #

  “I need a physician!” Jiandra insisted to the guard as he closed the gates behind her. “Quickly, my brother is ill.”

  “Unless it’s an emergency, you shouldn’t wake him at this hour,” the guard muttered crossly.

  “It’s an emergency. Where shall I find him?”

  The guard motioned behind him. “Two streets down, you’ll see Buttonwood Lane. The doctor’s house is at the end of the street, on the left.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Jiandra headed in that direction.

  She stopped in front of the house he’d mentioned, dismounted, and reached up to help Rafe down. She steadied him on his feet and tipped his chin up, searching his face in the moonlight. “Brother? Rafe, can you hear me?”

  He tried to focus his eyes on her face. “Jiandra?”

  “Yes, dear boy, it’s me,” she breathed in relief, hugging him tightly. Tears stung her eyes at the realization she’d almost let him go. “Come, we’ll have the doctor make sure you are all right.”

  #

  Gerynwid washed the last of the dirt from the Omaja and its chain in a basin of water, then dried it and placed it around her neck. The stone dropped to the cleft between her breasts, glowing with a dark violet light.

  She knelt before her altar to Ujagar. “Lord Ujagar, teach me the deep powers of the stone, like the ones that fool girl learned to use.”

  Ujagar’s voice spoke inside her head. I know only one, but it is a powerful one. Remove the chain from your neck. Take the stone in your right hand, channel your mental energy to it, and say the incantation for Shapeshift.

  Gerynwid backed away from the altar, stood near the center of the tower room, and did as he commanded. As soon as the incantation was said, she felt a new, more potent form spread through her body and shape her limbs. She became larger, taller, her head almost touching the domed ceiling of the room. She looked down at herself.

  “A dragon!” she roared, tongues of fire licking forth from her mouth as she spoke. “Yessss!” She raised her hand to examine its massive, razor-sharp talons. Her tail swept across the floor behind her, knocking over a bookcase and scattering her tomes and books of spellcraft. She whispered the incantation to return to her human form, then raised the Omaja to the sky in glee, cackling joyously.

  Be careful, Ujagar’s voice warned. In the dragon form, you are vulnerable to demon blood.

  Gerynwid nodded. She closed her eyes and chanted until she was kneeling before Ujagar’s throne in his realm. The Omaja took on a jet-black hue, its faint glow pulsing intermittently. Gerynwid gazed down at it, grinning, then looked up at Ujagar’s face.

  “Soon, you will summon Zehuraster to the portal of the realms for me with the stone.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” Gerynwid reached out to stroke his foot. “Tell me what you wish me to do.”

  “Travel to Cobbleton Wood, west of Kingston, near Stovy Farm. There is a waterfall there hiding the portal between the realms. You will drop the stone into the pool and call for Zehuraster. I will be waiting there to kill him.”

  #

  Caladia’s physician was a plump, elderly man with a white beard and bushy eyebrows who answered the door in a nightcap, carrying a large candle. He was cross at being disturbed after midnight until Jiandra dropped a generous amount of coin into his hand. He then motioned her to follow him into his examination office, where he had Rafe sit on a cot.

  “What ails the lad?” he asked tiredly.

  “He…” Jiandra faltered. She hadn’t fully planned out how to answer that question. She decided to tell the truth—at least some of it. “He was attacked by a sorceress.”

  “A sorceress? The only sorceress near here is Gerynwid the Shapeshifter.”

  “Yes, that is the very one, sir.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “And the boy survived? No one who is unfortunate enough to encounter Gerynwid the Shapeshifter escapes with his life, not that I’ve heard of.”

  “She only seized him to get something from me. Once she got it, we managed to escape, sir. Please, just—check to see if he’s all right.”

  “As you wish.” He lifted each of Rafe’s eyelids to examine his pupils. He checked his throat, felt for broken bones, checked his pulse. “His heartbeat is very fast, but I imagine his fright might be some cause for that. Boy, can you speak?”

  Rafe focused on the old man’s face with some effort. “I am able to speak.”

  The doctor picked up a wooden ball from a basket on his shelf, examining it for a moment, then suddenly tossed it at Rafe. Without turning his head or registering any change of expression, Rafe snatched it out of the air with his hand.

  “He’s got excellent reflexes,” the doctor noted. “That’s good. What is your name, lad?”

  “Rafael.”

  “Rafael, how old are you?”

  “Eight hundred and eighty-eight.”

  Jiandra chuckled and patted Rafe’s knee. “No, brother, you are eight! He meant eight, sir.”

  “All right, a bit of mental confusion. I suspect some shock has set in, but he should snap out of that in time. Rafael, do you remember anything about what happened to you?”

  “I remember the demon.”

  Jiandra studied his face. “Rafe, you were asleep for a while. Did you dream about a demon?”

  “It wasn’t a dream. He wanted my heart. But he put it back, and I woke up.”

  Jiandra glanced at the doctor. “He must have been having a nightmare.”

  The doctor nodded. “Rafael, do you have any injuries? Pain anywhere?”

  The boy pulled his shirt open. A red laceration was visible there, and upon closer inspection, it looked like a symbol of some sort had been etched into his skin.

  The doctor felt around the wound. “What happened here, boy?”

  “That is where the demon carved out my heart.”

  The doctor smiled kindly. “Well, good thing your heart’s still in there and beating. Let’s put some salve on that wound so it will heal up nicely.”

  The physician tended to the laceration and wrapped a bandage around Rafe’s chest and over his shoulder.

  “What do you think—overall, sir?” Jiandra asked anxiously as he finished up.

  “Well, physically, he seems to be doing as well as can be expected. No fever, chills, or sweats. I would make sure he rests for the next several days and keep a close eye on him. I have a healing herbal tea that should help ward off infection or other sickness that might come from the shock. It will also help him regain his strength. I’ll prepare a pouch of it for you. Have him drink it twice a day.”

  “Thank you sir. So sorry to trouble you at this hour.”

  “That’s all right, miss.” He turned to his cabinet to retrieve a pouch of herbs.

  Jiandra took her leave, stowed the herbs in a saddlebag, then climbed onto Tiber and hoisted Rafe up behind her. They trotted down the lane searching for an inn. She needed to find a fast courier, and the innkeep should be a good source of information about that. The two of them also needed to rest and regain their strength for the long journey h
ome on the morrow. She could more fully ponder the consequences of the decision she’d made to relinquish the Omaja then. For now, she was overjoyed to have her brother back safely and relatively unharmed.

  She settled Rafe on a cot in a room at the Blue Boar, then went back downstairs to speak with the innkeeper about sending a fast rider to Kingston with an urgent message for Queen Solange. He sent someone to fetch a courier while Jiandra borrowed an inkwell and parchment.

  Rafe is safe with me, but I had to give Gerynwid the stone. There was no other way to save him. She is the woman Zafira warned us about who wants to take your throne. She means you harm. Double or triple your guard patrol around the castle and be on your guard. We should arrive in Kingston in two days. Please send word to Elio for me.

  Jiandra signed the message and sealed it. Once the courier collected his coin and left, she returned to her room.

  Overnight, Rafe slept fitfully, half-waking now and again with agitated cries. Jiandra moved his cot closer to the bed and lay near the edge of the mattress so that she could reach over to smooth his hair back from his brow and soothe him with comforting words.

  “It’s all right now, brother. You’re safe.”

  Once he quieted down, she sank into the deep, dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion.

  She awoke a few hours later, at daybreak, relieved to find Rafe sleeping peacefully. Wanting to let him rest a bit longer before they set out for home, she lay still and stared at the morning sunlight filtering through the small window into the room. In the quiet stillness, her thoughts turned to Yajna. She imagined him and Yavi making it safely home, and their father overjoyed to see his sons alive and well. She envisioned herself standing there alongside Yajna, holding onto his hand, and meeting his father. Yajna’s tall, muscular frame would tower over her as she gazed up at his handsome face, and his silvery eyes would be filled with the love and determination she saw there the night they parted. She wondered if he were still thinking about her, and trying to devise some way that they could be together.