Birth Stone Page 11

  They had already calmed the skies right before Alec disappeared and it was back already.

  Gaia is growing more and more unhappy. This land won’t last much longer if we don't get Iris on the throne soon. My powers only go so far.

  Turning swiftly and running back through the house, he was out the door in a matter of seconds. He was vaguely aware of Lyra and Oriel coming up behind him. Gaze not moving from the swirl, Terrin called to his magic in his center and moved it through his arms. Raising his hands to the sky, he felt the energy expel from his palms, emanating a soft light.

  He was vaguely aware of Oriel’s hands on his shoulders. A blast of heat coursed up his arms, a violet hue joining his blue. He thought of his people, the ones who starved to death, drowned to death, burned to death during the Devastation. He thought of his sister, trapped ten years in a wild realm, afraid, wasting her life away. He thought of his best friend, Alec, disappearing before his eyes. The light fading from his mother’s eyes. Everyone he ever loved had disappeared because of Techni and it was up to him alone to fix it all.

  Rage boiled into him and he let it run it’s course, run through him and used it to thrum the magic into the skies. He roared his anger into the skies, cursing Gaia and pleading with her to stop the madness. Without warning, the swirl vanished, and a blue sky evolved from the previous gray one. Terrin dropped to his knees, forcing breath into his lungs and sweating profusely. Shaking, he tried to summon the strength to stand. Oriel breathed hard, hands on his hips. Lyra stood still silently nearby, eyes trained on the sky, hands covering her mouth in horror.

  Terrin stood and stalked toward her. He took in her features, and fought the urge to crush her to his chest and tell her everything would be okay. Instead, he glared at her.

  “You believe now, girl?”

  ✽✽✽

  Lyra

  Lyra swallowed, her emerald eyes misting. He knew she believed.

  Oriel came up behind him and took Lyra's hands.

  “We mustn’t delay your training any longer.” She nodded and looked around at the stark beach, the crashing waves.

  “Here?”

  “In my training room. The room with no windows.”

  Walking back into the house, they were silent. The enormity of what they were dealing with hung heavy amidst them. Walking straight into the training room, the smooth wooden floors cooled her bare feet. Oriel walked in and led Lyra to the middle of the rectangular room. Plain beige walls accented with candelabras lit the room, and though on the small side, the high ceiling made the room appear more spacious. Lyra noticed the King removing his boots by the door. He advanced toward them until he was next to Oriel, facing Lyra. Lyra couldn’t help but compare the men as they stood side by side, two feet directly in front of her. While Oriel was a deep mocha, his hair soft, his features open and giving, his hands ready to embrace and share, Terrin was tan, with olive undertones. His dark, thick hair setting a contrast on his features, making them appear more severe. His brows always lowered, his jaw always set, arms at his sides, body tense as if in preparation for a fight. He was the picture of a closed book and couldn’t have been any more of an opposite of Oriel. She wondered how they got along so well. Oriel spoke softly, as if not to startle Lyra.

  “I’m going to ask you to ignite your aura in your center. Once you have, I will place my hands along the lines of your other centers to coax them to the surface.”

  Lyra nodded, eyes darting to and from each man. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and imagined her center. The place right between her breastbone and her abdomen. She imagined a ball of heat, a roiling, ruby red orb. Faintly a stirring just there tickled her, like a blush beginning deep inside her.

  “Good.” She heard Oriel’s calm voice before she felt his warm, soft hands clasp her waist.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” he murmured as he brought both hands to her center and rubbed her abdomen. She could feel his breath on her face. Faintly, he moved his hands back to her sides and up along her ribcage to her shoulders. She felt the blush follow his hands.

  “Move your energy here,” Oriel commanded as he let his hands lightly rest on her shoulders.

  Lyra concentrated on the ball of heat in her center and the feeling of the blush moving with Oriel’s hands up her sides and onto her shoulders. The warmth flooded her shoulders.

  “Good. And here,” Oriel moved his hands to the insides of her elbows.

  “Good,” Oriel sounded surprised, “Now here.” He moved his hands into hers and lightly held them out between them. Lyra imagined her palms heating. She imagined the magic coming to the surface as she’d seen Terrin and Oriel just moments before. Suddenly, her hands felt aflame, a burning sensation with no pain. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at the shimmering red light engulfing her hands.

  “My gods!” She whispered, turning her hands over and releasing a shaky breath. Her skin felt shimmery all over like the shuttering of butterflies all over her skin, and the room buzzed with energy. Oriel had let her hands go, emitting a rich laugh while folding his hands in front of his chest. The King had his eyes trained on her, as if he hadn’t looked away or moved at all. She couldn’t read his face, as usual.

  “How do you feel?” Oriel asked, a knowing twinkle in his eye.

  “I feel…incredible,” Lyra let out an unexpected laugh, “Alive. I’m buzzing with energy. Almost like when I drank wine with the King, but not out of control like I was then. I’m relaxed but I’m not afraid...I’m powerful.” She dared to utter the last words, a smirk rising to her lips. Terrin’s eyes lit up with a spark of something Lyra couldn't name and a smirk of his own appeared on his lips. She met his gaze steadily. Cocking his head to the side, he squinted at her as if trying to size her up.

  “I didn’t take you for the power hungry sort,” he quipped.

  Lyra laughed. “I didn’t know what power felt like.” The King exhaled in what could be interpreted as a chuckle. Oriel glanced between the two before widening his stance.

  “Lyra,” his voice taking on formality again, “I now need you to cool down your centers and bring the aura back in.”

  Lyra’s disappointment was acute, and she wondered if she would ever be able to bring forth her magic again by herself. She closed her eyes, imagined the flame being doused, and creeping up her arms and back into her center. She felt her entire body cool, and opened her eyes.

  Oriel nodded at her and was about to speak when the King beat him to it.

  “You are a fast learner,” he said, “Now bring it back into your center and into your hands again, this time by yourself without Oriel touching you.”

  Staring into his dark eyes, Lyra felt a lick of heat up her spine, and had no problem igniting the aura in her center. She imagined the centers along her arms lighting up, and finally in her hands.

  In a matter of seconds, Lyra’s aura was blasting out of her hands and straight at the King, hitting him square in the chest. He was blasted backward, hitting the opposite wall. Lyra screamed and ran to him but Oriel was quick to grab her from behind, swinging her around before looking into her eyes and Lyra was suddenly doused of her flames, her mind flowering into a fog.

  She was vaguely aware that she was sitting on the floor. The fog clearing, she noticed a large hand in front of her face. Following the arm up, she saw that it was the King, his face devoid of emotion. Hesitantly, she took his hand and stood.

  “I’m--I’m so sorry,” she breathed, “I didn’t know--how--”

  The King shook his head, “You really are powerful.”

  Butterflied erupted in Lyra’s stomach. “Did I hurt you?” She asked.

  “That’s the second time you’ve attacked me, girl.” His tone was teasing, but there was that familiar gravel underneath.

  Oriel stepped up to her and rubbed her back. “You are powerful, Lyra. Which was why I had to forcefully cool your aura for you. Sorry about the brain fog. Perhaps we moved too fast today.” Oriel glanced accusingly at Terrin. �
��But more than likely, for whatever reason, Terrin elicits a high emotion from you, which tampers with your control.” Lyra’s face reddened. Not true. She felt her own lie.

  “I thought we were past it, but...I must be the sole person to train you from here on out. You won’t be ready to journey with Terrin until I can train you one-on-one. Is that clear?” Oriel looked to Terrin who still showed no emotion.

  “You’ll train in my room from here on out,” Terrin commanded. “She’s valuable and I won’t have her leave my sight, or trying to escape. I won’t hear an objection to that, Oriel.”

  Oriel snapped his mouth closed. “Fair enough. But you won’t be interrupting our sessions.” The men stared at each other.. Lyra rubbed her arm, eager to get out of the tense space. She didn’t exactly understand the animosity she was feeling between the men. Finally, Oriel smiled broadly and nodded.

  “We can end our training session for today and resume tomorrow in Terrin’s courts.”

  The King turned to Lyra, then, his face as stony as ever.

  “We’ll take Oriel’s portal to the castle.” Before Lyra could begin to understand what he meant, let alone even respond, Oriel was taking her hand, leading them out of the room and out of the door. Afternoon sun flooded them, while the cool autumn winds licked the heat away.

  They followed Oriel down his stone steps to the underside of the steep hill his house sat atop. The underside of the hill was surrounded with piles of jagged black rocks, like obsidian.

  Lyra had an obsidian stone in her box of gems. The memory of Alec giving her the obsidian stone was like a kick to the gut. Tears pricked her eyes. Swiftly, the King turned around to look at her. Terrin’s eyes bored into hers, and she stopped, startled.

  “What is it?” She whispered.

  “Your pain was acute, I felt it inside me. I thought something had happened to you. ” Stiffly, Terrin turned back around and continued to walk toward Oriel. Lyra shook her head and kept following.

  Mind mages.

  Oriel and the King were standing next to a particularly large obsidian rock that was so lustrous, it reflected her image back to her. Oriel reached his hand toward it, and mumbled a word Lyra didn’t recognize. When his hand reached the stone, it disappeared into the glossy darkness. Lyra yelped and covered her mouth.

  By the gods..

  Oriel winked at Lyra before walking fully into it.

  Terrin turned around and stared for a moment before speaking to her. “Take my hand for the transition.”

  Lyra blinked at his outstretched hand. Placing her hand in his, she followed him through the obsidian portal as the inky beach and echoing waves faded behind her like a distant memory.

  Chapter 12

  Lyra felt a resistance as she came out on the other side, as if she was being held back by a forcefield. When the resistance popped and she took a look at her surroundings but realized they were shrouded in darkness. She was pretending not to notice the rough hand still clasping hers and hoping he wouldn’t let go just yet. They were in a dimly lit cave or closet, though she was unsure of where the light was coming from. A crack of bright light appeared in front of her and then opened wide, the silhouette of a man etched in the opening. The King pulled Lyra through the opening and onto lush carpet.

  Sight adjusting, Lyra took in the cathedral-like hall until her eyes landed on the golden throne a few feet away from her. They were facing the back of it, so they must have come from a space in the wall behind it at the back of the room.

  Lyra didn’t know she was still holding the King’s hand until his grip was gone. She felt oddly bereft in its absence. She put her hands on her hips and faced him.

  “There’s a portal in your throne room that goes directly to Oriel’s home?”

  “Yes.”

  Lyra huffed out a breath.

  “And why didn’t we take that when we journeyed there yesterday?”

  The King flashed a rare smile, and her stomach flip flopped.

  “I wanted you to see a bit of the town,” he said.

  “I would be able to see it better in the daytime. Though I suppose I'm not allowed out of the castle during the day.”

  “No, not without a guard…or a maid, perhaps.” The King strode over to the table they first sat at during their first meeting. Two carafes, one of water and one of brandy, and cakes were laid out on the table. A short servant rushed forward and poured three cups with their choice drinks before returning to the wall. Oriel took a seat, reclining back comfortably.

  “I can’t very well leave the island, your majesty.”

  The King looked up sharply at her and placed his hands on the table, leveling his stare at her.

  “You will not attempt to leave the castle without a guard. There’s a possibility you could be in danger.”

  “Why would I be in danger?” She bristled. Other than from you.

  The King sat down and waved his hand away from the servant. He bowed and made himself scarce. Lifting his cup to his mouth, the King took a large gulp and sat it down, mulling the information over in his head.

  “I can’t be sure where Techni is, what kind of power he has, or what kind of information he’s privy to. Whether or not he has people working for him.”

  Lyra hadn’t considered that possibility before. “But I thought your mother banished him to Eclipsa.”

  “She did. But Techni should have ever been able to open the portal to banish Iris. I have reason to believe he is working with other powerful allies.”

  “And you haven’t found any leads on who those allies might be?” Lyra couldn’t believe there was such little progress in ten years time.

  “You would be surprised how well hidden people can be. You have a lot to learn.”

  Lyra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead taking a sip of water. A knock on the heavy doors sounded and in came Silo, the thin, haughty man who escorted Lyra to her quarters when she first arrived. He bowed deeply in the direction of the King and glanced furtively at herself and Oriel.

  “Sire, I am pleased to see you back at the castle. I have some documents that need your attention.”

  The King sighed and stretched his hand out toward the documents Silo held.

  Silo’s eyes widened and he glanced again at Lyra and Oriel.

  ‘Your majesty, these are delicate matters. Best to be spoken about in private.”

  The King’s hand remained outstretched. Silo seemed to know better than to argue again and handed over the parchments.

  The King’s bored gaze flicked over the pages, shuffling them behind the next as he read through them. Silo stood at attention nearby, waiting for him to finish. When he was done, he hastily handed them back to Silo, who took them eagerly with expectant eyes.

  “Well, sire? How shall we respond?”

  The King’s jaw clenched and he sighed deeply through his nose.

  “The mill can be rebuilt with the guard’s bonus funds. Fine them if it doesn’t cover the costs. They’re the ones who left their posts and allowed an arson to tear it down. They’re lucky I don’t lock them up, but they did manage to capture the arsonist, to their credit. I want guards on the premises at all times--competent ones this time.”

  Silo nodded.

  “And another thing,” the King said, “Genevieve's clothing shop was thieved a few times this month. The scum of the thief sold the fabrics already. He’s to be fined and dealt with today. I want the funds matched and sent to her immediately.”

  Silo’s eyes bulged. “Matched, sire?”

  “From our bank, yes.”

  Silo laughed, a humorless noise. “We’ve discussed this before, your Majesty. It’s not your job as King to replace stolen--”

  Terrin’s glare shut Silo up instantly, yet he continued to stand there. The King went back to his glass of brandy. Silo cleared his throat, a dry sound that made Lyra think of sick children.

  “What is it?” the King drawled.

  “The ball, your majesty.”

 
A silence resounded for so long, Lyra thought Silo would leave.

  “I suppose we can host the ball in a fortnight. That should give you plenty of time to--”

  “With all due respect, your Highness, the Northern royals made it perfectly clear they were poised to enter the court in a matter of days, I suspect by the end of the week. The servants have already begun preparations.”

  The King closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Do what you will,” he barked out. Silo bowed deeply and turned to leave, as if afraid the King would change his mind. The King stood. Lyra sensed he didn’t want to discuss what that had been about. But Lyra’s curiosity got the best of her.

  “I wasn’t fully aware there was a Northern royal court. Or many people who lived North at all. I suspected it was all...well, mostly wilderness I suppose.”

  The King looked around the room as if he wanted nothing more than to not answer her query. “As I said before, girl, you have much to learn.”

  “I don’t understand why any of this should be a secret. Gem has kept so much secret from the common folks of Terra and it’s really quite shameful. We pay our taxes like dutiful citizens and this is the treatment we receive?”

  The King pinned her with a patronizing look, which sent ripples of anger up her body.

  “Sometimes it’s best not to know the truth.”

  “I beg to differ, your majesty. I think the truth sets people free.”