Heart of Stone (23 page)

Since she'd first connected to it the other day, she'd sensed the vortexes humming constantly in the background of her mind. In the hands of a normal Channeler, the energy would be unstable. But under the direction of an elemental Earth Channeler like herself—a Stone Singer—she should be able to funnel enough energy in a controlled stream to help clear the Stone of Igarle.

If her plan didn't work and she got sucked into the stone again, she had Darius as a backup. And in the event he was compromised like last night, she had Ben's ring, designed to block her from any Atlantean power, corrupt or otherwise. If she could wear the ring to work stone energy she would, but in addition to blocking her from other Atlanteans, it also stopped her from using her abilities, as if she were sealed up in a plastic bubble. No power in, none out.

As she wore the ring this morning, the short walk from her room to the cabana had seemed eerily silent without the familiar murmur of the ancient rock around her and the constant hum of the vortex energy.

The gems around her vibrated on their own frequencies that only she could hear. Her tattoos flared, the minerals in the ink joining the choir. She reached deep into the Earth and anchored herself, Earth song surging up through her roots and erupting from her throat to blend with the other harmonies. She wove protections for herself in case the Stone of Igarle tried again to suck her into its dark places. Opening her eyes, she continued to sing but sent Darius a mental message.

Bring me the stone
.

He got up and removed the stone from its box. He crossed the room to her, and by the time he'd reached her, the bloodred pyramid had turned completely clear. He handed her the stone.

She gripped the pyramid between two hands.

Seer,
it whispered, before tendrils of crimson swirled into it, like blood dripped into clear water.

He is a Seer. I am the Stone Singer,
she sent.

Singer
. Once again, it tried to connect with her mind, but with the vortex energy behind her, she was able to hold it back.

Shadows consume you,
she said.
I can help
.

Ja-Red,
the stone whispered. The name of the Stone Singer from Atlantis.

Ja-Red is no more,
she said.
I am Faith. I can help you
.

So much to say, no one to listen
.

I am listening, but first I must clear the path.

So much to say!

You can say it to me …
after
the path is cleared.

She waited what felt like a very long time before the stone answered her.
Very well
.

Clearing the negative energy was like trying to bathe a squirming dog with one hand while attempting to scrub an oven with the other. She sang the shadows away, scraped at the black despair and negativity that coated everything, illuminated the dark corners with light. The stone shied away from her sometimes, like a small, muddy child who did not want to wash, but she forced it to her will.

It seemed like forever, but finally she had removed a couple of layers of negative emotion, enough that the tarlike muck had faded to half of its previous volume.

Ja-red,
the stone lamented.

Tell me about Ja-Red. Tell me about the last day of Atlantis.

Images slammed into her mind. She became Ja-Red.

*   *   *

He rose from the bed of his mate, awakened by the shaking of the Earth and the cries of the frightened. Leaving his beloved Kindin wrapped in the bedclothes that even now smelled of their loving, he grabbed his garments from the floor and hurried out of his dwelling to the street.

Agrilara,
he mind-spoke,
what's happening?

To the temple!
Even her mind-voice sounded frantic.
Selak is trying to perform the Sortu-Ka!

He broke into a run, leaping over obstacles and pushing past fleeing citizens without a glance. He kept his gaze on the temple. Thunder boomed, and lightning split the sky. Huge waves dwarfed the buildings nearest the harbor, smashing down on them as if they were eggshells. The city shook as if Poseidon himself pounded his fist on the base of the world.

And Selak, that arrogant statesman, was trying to perform the Sortu-Ka.

Everyone knew only Seers could perform that ritual. It was they who were selected by the Creators to be the voice of the people. Not Channelers. Not Warriors. But the Channeler Selak had raised dissent among the citizens, questioning the old ways, making the denizens of Atlantis, especially some of the Zaindari—those gifted with special abilities by the Creators—believe the Seers were trying to enslave Atlantis.

It was all fabrication and trickery, a political maneuver so Selak could seize power.

But to go this far, to actually attempt the Sortu-Ka? Heresy! No wonder Poseidon was angry!

Ja-Red burst into the great chamber of the temple. Agrilara was already there. And Selak, that madman, had already begun the Sortu-Ka. He had the Stones of Ekhia in the triangle frame, and he'd activated them. They had faded from crimson to clear, and red swirls of energy danced in their sparkling depths. Agrilara looked over at Ja-Red, her blue eyes wide and damp.

He's started the ritual,
she mind-spoke.
My abilities are in stasis.

The stones always neutralized the abilities of any Atlanteans who handled them, and their field of power grew to anyone surrounding them during the Sortu-Ka. The only exception to this was the Stone Singer. It was up to him to stop Selak.

He shouted for Selak to stop. Rushed for the frame. Reached tattooed hands toward the stones.

And Selak blasted energy through the stones, through Ja-Red, snuffing his life force and leaving Faith a helpless ghost to observe.

A mad scramble. The temple began to crumble. Those in the great chamber grabbed what they could and ran. Selak lay in the wreckage, laughing.

A young Warrior snatched up the Stone of Igarle. Fled from the temple. Found space on a boat and watched as the great city of Atlantis sank into the sea forever.

*   *   *

Faith came back to herself with a gasp, her heart pounding. Darius crouched in front of her. “Faith, are you all right?”

She nodded, swallowing as she realized she was in Arizona, not Atlantis. She licked her dry lips. “I could use a drink,” she managed.

Darius straightened and went to the small fridge behind the bar. He pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to her. “Here. Drink slowly.”

She ignored him and chugged several swallows before stopping. “Thanks.”

He sat down in his chair and bent forward with his gaze on hers. “You've been gone for three hours.”

“What?” She glanced at the clock. It was after twelve. “It only felt like a few minutes.”

“Hours.” He reached out and brushed her cheek, his fingers coming away damp. “You're crying.”

She nodded. Sniffed. Took another drink of water.

“What happened in there? You didn't seem to be lost like before, so I didn't go in after you.”

“Give me a minute.” She swiped the back of her hand across her wet face. And noticed her fingers trembled. She curled them into fists, images from the stone's memory lingering in her mind. The devastation. The loss. And the lie.

Especially the lie.

She took a deep breath, then another and another until her heart rate slowed. Darius waited, his patience like a warm blanket on a cold night. He was so different from the other men she'd known. Other Atlanteans, especially. She felt like she could tell him anything, and it would be okay. She sipped some more water, and when she decided she could talk without sobbing, she set down the bottle.

“It took me to Atlantis,” she said.

“Took you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I'm still rattled.” She breathed in again, then out. “Not physically took me. It showed me Atlantis, through the memory of the last Stone Singer who had balanced the stone. A young man named Ja-Red.”

“I'm sorry.” He squeezed her shoulder. “That must have been horrible, seeing the destruction firsthand like that.”

“It was horrible, but amazing, too. I
saw
it, Darius. I saw Atlantis as it was, not as we speculate it to have been.” She rubbed her face with both hands. “And I felt him die. Ja-Red. He was trying to stop it.”

“Stop the destruction? How can you stop an earthquake?”

“By shutting down what was causing it.” She got to her feet and paced. “The Stones of Ekhia caused the destruction of Atlantis. No, that's not exactly accurate. Let's say
misuse
of the stones caused it.”

Darius sat back in his chair, a frown on his face. “So it wasn't just a tragic natural disaster?”

“Nothing natural about it. Someone caused it.”

“Using the stones.”

“Yes.” She swept a hand through her hair and kept pacing, one hand on her hip. “I'm trying to process this, trying to accept what I just saw. Because if it's true—and it has to be, since the memories are stored in the stone—then everything I believe, everything every Atlantean believes, is based on a lie.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Selak. He destroyed Atlantis.”

“Who's Selak?”

She stopped pacing to stare at him. “Are you serious? You don't know about Selak?”

He shrugged. “I told you, I know very little about the history of Atlantis. Until recently, I thought my ancestor was the only survivor.”

“Hardly. The entire island of Santutegi was founded by Atlantean refugees.”

“What?” He leaned forward. “Santutegi, where Jain Criten is from? That Santutegi?”

“Yes. You could call it the homeland of the Atlanteans. It was founded by Selak.”

“So the guy who blew up Atlantis founded the new home for its people?”

“Oh, yeah. He's a hero, like George Washington is to the United States. He's revered. There are statues of him and buildings named after him.”

“I don't get it. Why would the guy who caused the destruction be revered?”

“Because until this moment, no one knew he caused the destruction. The history books say he was the leader of the refugees because he was the ranking council member, the
only
council member, to survive.” She held his gaze. “He told everyone the Seers got greedy for more power, abused the stones, and destroyed the city.”

“Wow.” He slumped against the chair back. “That takes balls.”

“Don't you see? That's what the Mendukati believe. It's what drives them: ‘The Seers blew up our utopia, so they all must die.'”

“What about the Seers who survived? There must have been some. I know Agrilara, my ancestor, survived because I exist.”

“I saw her. Ja-Red knew her.”

“No way.”

“She was beautiful. Blond hair and those gorgeous blue eyes all of you have. She called Ja-Red to come to the temple to help try and stop Selak. Once the stones were activated in the Sortu-Ka ritual, only a Stone Singer could disrupt that. When Ja-Red attempted it, Selak killed him with an energy backlash.” She cleared her suddenly clogged throat. “Sorry. He was a nice guy, in love with a young man named Kindin. Anyway, about the Seers who survived. Santutegi history talks about a disease that only seems to affect Seers. There was some kind of plague that killed a lot of them off.”

“Handy, considering they thought the Seers had blown everything for them. I can't imagine Seers would have been very popular in the new place.”

“I have a feeling—and this is not based on any fact—that they might have been killed.”

“What does the stone say about that?”

“Nothing. This stone never made it to Santutegi. It left Atlantis in the possession of a young Warrior, who ended up somewhere else. I broke off the memory at that point. However, and this is what is bothering me, the Mendukati's mission is to get rid of the Seers. They truly believe the Seers destroyed Atlantis in some kind of power grab, and they're determined to set things right.”

“By wiping the Seers off the planet? Great.”

“Don't you see? It's not just the Mendukati. Every single Atlantean believes this. Everything I was told, everything I believed, the entire history of my people, was a lie.” Her eyes stung as she looked at him, her certainty about her place in the world crumbling beneath her. “So where does that leave me? Who am I?”

“Hey, hey.” He rose and came to her, pulling her into his arms. “You're still you. Still Faith Karaluros. That hasn't changed.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, her hands pressed to his chest. He smelled like soap and laundry detergent, with a hint of chlorine, and his arms around her made her feel safe in a precarious world. “There's something else. Something I haven't told you.”

He eased her back so he could see her face. “Tell me now.”

She hesitated. “You asked me once about Michael's death.”

“I figured you'd tell me when you're ready.”

“Guess I'm ready. Michael was trying to steal my power from me.” She sighed, staring at the front of his shirt and seeing that day on the hilltop in her head as if it were yesterday. “We were on a mission to capture a family of Seers. But I found out too late that he never intended to capture them. He wanted to kill them. He wanted
me
to kill them. When I balked, he tried to seize control of my power. I fought for it, and it chose me. The backlash killed him.” Her composure slipped. “I felt that in the vision. Backlash of energy. That's how Ja-Red died, and that's how Michael died. How
I
killed him.” Her lower lip trembled as she fought to keep steady. “It's a horrible, painful way to die.”

“I thought your powers didn't work on other Atlanteans?”