Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

Zanya

Zanya shoved and pushed through the crowds in the train station. She gasped when someone shoulder-checked her, nearly knocking her off-balance. She glared back at the stranger, readying an energy ball that would zap him so hard it would burn the hairs off his ass.

Her mother grabbed her arm. “Keep walking.” She pulled Zanya’s forward. “I’ve seen that look before.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Zanya mumbled.

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry.” Renato acted as a plow to clear a path for Marzena, who followed close behind him. “It is just days before Christmas celebrations, so even the train station here in Guatemala is rather busy.”

“No kidding,” Tara said, clinging to Peter’s arm.

The train ride had been long. Thankfully she’d had her own bunk with a travel-size pillow, a soft mattress, and thick velvet curtains that blocked out the light. With the rhythmic motion of the train, she was able to sleep through most of the trip. And when she wasn’t asleep, she lay back in her bunk and played an imaginary violin, humming the notes while she glided the air-bow over the strings. When they returned home she would start playing again. She longed for the peace it gave her.

They hiked to the outskirts of the train station, where taxis and busses waited along the curb. “We have to take two cabs,” Renato said. He flagged down a six-passenger transport van. When it pulled up, Renato opened the front passenger door and pointed to another van behind them. “There is another cab for the rest of you.”

Zanya slipped into Renato’s cab, taking the window seat. Tara and Peter sat in the far back. Hawa settled in beside them. Arwan sat in the seat next to Zanya.

Zanya curled into her seat and turned her attention to the commuters hustling past. Part of her wished the winter solstice would just pass and she could go back to feeling like herself again. Sure, her powers were stronger than ever, but her emotions were all over the place, and she could barely stand the constant longing that haunted her every waking moment.

The van creaked and rocked to the side when Beigarth took a seat beside Arwan. His freckled lips rose into a full smile. “Ye ready, lad?” He elbowed Arwan in the ribs.

He grunted from the blow and nodded. “Ready.”

Beigarth clenched his fist in front of him and flexed his arm, as if the gesture related everything he wanted to say.

Thanks to the Beigarth’s natural cheer, the weight that had settled in her gut had all but vanished. She turned back to the window and leaned on her bag, watching as more crowds hustled by.

Her focus shifted to Arwan’s reflection in the glass. He was watching her.

The heat radiating from his skin made her uneasy. She secured her grip on her pack. It was just her luck to get stuck beside him the entire ride.

She rested her forehead against the cool glass, and her breath fogged the window.

Beigarth settled deeper in his seat, shifting Arwan even closer. His leg pressed against hers, and her stomach warmed with butterflies. It didn’t take long for the warmth to morph into sharp pains. She gripped her belly.

“Are you okay?” His voice came out in a cool, smooth whisper.

She hated him for talking to her.

If he could only read her thoughts, he’d see how
not
okay she really was. She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut.

His hand rested on her forearm. “Zanya.”

She balled her fist, and he quickly withdrew his touch.

“Please talk to me,” he said softly. She could barely hear him over the multiple conversations filling the van’s cabin. He leaned in closer. “Can I just say something?”

She fogged the glass again with a long exhale. “What?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Too little, too late, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” His tone was solemn, which brought her anger down a notch. “I know I can’t say anything to make up for the way I’ve treated you.” He rested his other hand over the top of hers. This time she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. “The truth is, even if I hadn’t kept my secrets, I still don’t deserve you.” He removed his hand from hers, leaving her skin cold.

She clenched her eyes shut, fighting the raw ache in her throat. “You’re such an asshole.”

His deep sigh worsened the ache in her chest. “I hope you can enjoy the solstice. It’s really something. Like nothing you’ve ever experienced.” 

Almost an hour later, they arrived at the entrance of the ruins. When the cab finally came to a stop, Zanya impatiently waited for the door to open and her turn to climb out of the taxi.

She and Arwan hadn’t said a word to each other for the rest of the drive.

The shocks squeaked and the van rocked when Beigarth stepped outside. Arwan followed the petrifier, and Zanya sat in the taxi, waiting as the rest of them filed out, until only she, the cab driver, and Renato remained.

Her uncle turned in his seat. “Are you ready, Zanya?”

She gazed out the window at the growing crowd. “Is everyone here Riyata?”

“No. But those who are not Riyata are Maya descendants and locals, all of whom enjoy the holiday as much as we do.”

“So how do we tell the difference between them and the Riyata?”

“Unfortunately, unless the lights reach down and bond them, or they introduce themselves, we won’t.”

“Oh.” She gripped her bag and slid to the end of the bucket seat. Arwan stood just outside, talking to Beigarth. A sad smile found her lips, and she lowered her head.

“Zanya.” Her uncle’s soft voice made her look up. “Are you all right?”

She shrugged.

Renato turned to the driver. “
Excusanos un momento, por favor?
”

The cabby nodded, stepped out of the taxi, and shut the door behind him.

Renato removed his pipe from the inner pocket of his jacket and ran his finger over the surface, touching the intricate carvings. His expression softened, lost in thought. Her focus shifted to the images carved into the white bone.

Elephants and caribou formed a ring around the pipe’s bowl, and small
M
shapes mimicked birds soaring in the sky.

Renato’s hand was steady, but the way he breathed, quiet and controlled, made her chest tighten. “Have I ever told you how I acquired this pipe?”

She shook her head.

“This pipe was given to me by my closest friend, Barout. After the Maya civilizations collapsed, many of us separated into clans and lived as nomads. Barout was part of my clan, as was your mother, and dozens of others. His sister also traveled with us.” His gaze slowly drifted into the distance. “Her name was Ysalane.”

Zanya sank back in the seat. The pain with which he spoke her name made it clear he had loved her. “Were you guys bonded?”

Renato shook his head. “Ysalane and I never had the chance to bond.” He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “She passed before the solstice arrived that winter. Barout gave this pipe to me the night before he left. I have not seen or spoken to him since. The death of his sister tore the heart from his very chest.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And from mine.”

She watched Arwan through the open door of the cab. “What was she like?”

“She had a beautiful voice and would often sing fables to keep our spirits high. And she loved the ocean. She wore earrings made of white seashells. They were small and spiraled. She wanted children—” His voice caught. “I miss her so very much. The void in my soul has never been filled.”

Zanya pulled her knees to her chest and searched for something to say, but there was nothing. When someone was cut so deeply, time didn’t always heal the pain.

She rested her chin on top of her knees and peered out the window at the stone temples. Once they’d been the pride of the Maya civilization; now they were only visited by tourists, Mayan descendants, and then the Riyata, who came just once a year for the winter solstice. While she admired the debilitated city, one fact stood out in her mind.

Growing up sucked.

When she was younger, it was easy to blame her heartache on everyone but herself. Her mother for abandoning her. Her father for probably ditching her mom long before she was born—before Zanya knew the truth. Her doctors for not believing she wasn’t crazy. God, if he even existed. She’d been a victim of circumstances her entire life, and believing
that
made her feel better. A little less responsible for being so screwed up.

As she grew older, she learned she’d have to eventually stop pointing fingers and make the decision to move past the pain. She also realized she’d have to take control of her future and fight for something more than what life had handed her. It was the only option, aside from ruining any chance she had at a real life.

“I don’t want you to live in regret, Zanya. Do not live like me. Arwan is a good man. I understand he wronged you, but regardless of what your mother may say, his heart is
not
black. It would be such a transgression of love if you robbed yourself of the opportunity to care for someone as much as I cared for Ysalane.”

She smiled softly, and a stinging tear slid down her cheek. “Thanks, Renato.” She shrugged. “But we’re just not meant to be. Even if I could forgive him, we can never be together.” She lowered her head. “It was all a mistake. One big, horrible mistake.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Arwan

The air was cool on the evening of the solstice. Arwan drew in a deep breath as he stood alone, admiring the abandoned hills in the lowland. His mind wandered through time, recalling the first winter solstice he’d attended as a young man, when the ruins were not ruins, but mighty temples at their greatest.

He would never forget the first time he stood in the lowlands at the base of the Temple of Tikal, staring at the top of the temple, where the shaman stood beside the ruler of the kingdom. The king and his soothsayer had been dressed in brightly colored clothing and jewelry made of turquoise, gold, and amber.

Large fires were scattered between temples, turning the dark skies orange and red. Attendees dressed for the occasion. Women wore chokers made of coral and decorated their hands and feet with henna, which made their olive skin stand out against the silky moonlight.

Offerings would be placed around the flames—sweet-berry wine, maize, and handmade glass beads served. There was no blood shed that day for sacrifices, as the winter solstice was about life, not death.

But it was the drums that made the solstice truly memorable. As a young man, he’d wandered between the temples, watching musicians gather in groups. They braced drums between their legs and beat their palms over stretched ox-hide, infusing the night with rhythm and life.

“Arwan. Look.” Renato’s voice pulled him back to his current place in time. He turned to the horizon, where the sun slowly dipped below the rigid mountains in the distance. “It will begin soon.”

Renato turned to Zanya and pointed to where they would stand when the lights appeared. The higher they were, the better, which was why royalty had claimed their seats at the top of the ruin in the past. Now no one was allowed on the stone structures, as they had been deemed a world heritage site long ago.

The rest of the newcomers gathered together, excitedly chatting and taking amongst each other. Arwan stood on the outside of the circle and dropped his head. The darker half of him was silent—for now.

A man dragged a crate of food past him, and Arwan pulled off his thin jacket and rested it on the ground. Renato noticed and nodded, giving him permission to help with the preparations.

Arwan approached the group of men gathered near the truck of supplies and lifted a wooden crate of corn into his arms. They would use maize as offerings tonight, just as their ancestors had done from the birth of their empire.

His muscles flexed under the weight as he carried the crate down the steep hill to the valley. He appreciated having something to do—anything other than being lost in his thoughts.

It took nearly two hours for him and the men to haul the last of the corn to the fire pits. By the time he placed the final crate on the ground, his skin was slick with sweat. He lifted his arm and wiped his forehead, then turned to the hillside, where an older woman stood alone with a heavy shawl draped over her shoulders.

Arwan smiled. The solstice celebrations wouldn’t have been the same without Drina.

He hiked up the hillside toward the group. The air became cooler as he distanced himself from the glowing fires. When he reached the top of the hill, Drina was standing with her back facing him. He placed his hand on the old woman’s shoulder. Without turning around, she reached across her chest and rested her hand over his.

“I’m glad you made it, Drina. I was hoping—”

She turned and smiled sadly. “I would not have left you to celebrate alone.” She glanced at the rest of the group, clustered together just yards away.

“I would’ve been fine. But thank you.”

She patted his cheek with her wrinkled hand and smiled. “Cualli and Balam are here.” She turned toward the nearby forest. A pair of yellow eyes glowed from the thick of the tree branches. Drina tugged on his arm. “Go. Go enjoy t’e lights from t’e lowland of t’e valley wit’ your people.”

***

Zanya

“It is almost time.” Renato turned to Eleuia. “Are you ready?”

Eleuia beamed, dressed for the occasion in a green, blue, orange, and cream patterned dress.

Zanya hadn’t had the foresight to bring something special to wear for the event. She glanced down at her jeans and T-shirt paired with sandals.

Renato and her mother smiled at each other. “We have something for you. For your first solstice.” Her mother revealed a package she had hidden behind her back.

Zanya examined the burlap tied with a thin piece of rope. “What is it?”

“We picked it up for you in town,” her mother said. “Actually, Renato picked it out. He said you would wear it well.”

Zanya took the gift and glanced up at her mother. “Should I open it?”

Renato chuckled. “I would hope so. And you may use the cab to change if you’d like. The driver is enjoying the festivities. You will have your privacy.”

Zanya’s breath stalled while she gently tugged the twine loose. The folds of burlap fell open to reveal fabric—deep blue patterned with gold and burgundy diamonds.

“It’s a dress. And there’s something else in there, for your stone.” Eleuia slipped a leather bracelet out from between folds of the fabric. “I thought maybe you could use a place to keep it with you all the time, now that you’ve shrunk it down to a more portable size.”

Zanya’s lips parted. “But how…”

“Renato told me.” Her mother grinned. “Very clever. I never thought of doing that.”

Zanya dragged her fingers over the soft fabric. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Let me help you with this.” Her mom rested the bracelet on Zanya’s wrist and wound two braided straps around several times, then tied it in a knot. On the main strap of the bracelet was a pouch, just large enough to house her stone.

“Did you make this?”

Her mother smiled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done any leather sewing, but I think it came out pretty good.” She brushed her fingers along Zanya’s hand as she pulled away. “Now go change into your dress so I can see it on you.”

As Renato had promised, the cab was empty. Inside, she quickly stripped and wrapped the dress around her body. The fabric brushed against the tops of her feet, and a golden rope hung around the waistline. A single shoulder strap went over only one shoulder, leaving the other one bare.

She pulled her stone out of her jeans pocket and held it between her fingers. It glowed and swirled with color, as if cooing with joy. She smiled. “It’s pretty exciting, right?” The stone buzzed in affirmation. Her smile faded. “And you’ve got a new home. Compliments of Mom.” Zanya tucked the stone in the pouch on the top of her bracelet and tied it shut. The stone’s light pushed through, illuminating the edges of the pocket. “What do you think?” It hummed in a low tone, then fizzled out. “Oh, come on. You’ll warm up to it.” Her stone flashed with annoyance. Zanya chuckled and pushed open the taxi door.

She stepped out of the cab onto the cool, soft earth. Her mother waited with Renato, her hands perched on her hips. “Well then.” She scanned Zanya head to toe. “You look…” She swallowed and pressed her fingers over her lips. “You look beautiful.”

Zanya fiddled with the strap of her dress.

“Here.” Her mother stepped behind her. “There’s a button back here to keep the dress from coming loose. She pulled the fabric tighter and secured it in place. “There.”

Zanya admired the patterned fabric, soft and flowing against her skin with the gentle breeze. “Thanks, you guys. It’s beautiful.”

“I couldn’t have you attend your first solstice in jeans.” He glanced over Zanya’s shoulder. “Looks like someone else has taken notice.”

Zanya turned to see Jayden staring at her with his arms crossed over his chest and a crooked grin. She turned back to her mother, suppressing a smile. “He’s such a clown.”

“A handsome clown.” She stepped around Zanya. “We should join the others. It’s almost time.”

When they passed him, Jayden raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”

She lifted her finger. “Enough, Jay.”

“Hey, most women appreciate a compliment.”

She dropped her hand and smiled. He was right. At least he wasn’t being a
total
ass. She smoothed down the fabric with her palms. “Thanks.”

Jay extended his arm. “Shall we?”

She snorted. “Suddenly you’re a gentleman?”

“I had to try it sometime.” He winked and looped her arm in his, and they walked toward the rest of the group.

The energy of the night sparked in the air, flickering around them, mixing with the twinkle of stars and fireflies.

Zanya spotted Drina lingering at the edge of the group. “I’ll be right back.” It would be rude not to greet Drina after everything she’d done.

The old woman’s eyes lit up at her approach. She clapped her hands in front of her and skimmed her gaze over Zanya’s attire. “
Hats’uts!”

Zanya didn’t need to know Mayan to understand the sparkle in her eyes—beautiful. “Thank you, Drina.” She took the woman’s hands. “It’s so nice to see you here.”

The old woman nodded. “You are going to remember t’is night forever.” She rested her finger on Zanya’s chest. “Is very special.”

She squeezed Drina’s other hand. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

A tiny gasp escaped the woman’s throat, and her eyes softened as she tilted her face toward the night sky. “T’ere.” She gestured to the city of ruins, which was now basking in the glow of dozens of fires in the valley below. “You see how t’e sky shakes? Do you feel it? T’e gods will soon descend. I must go.”

Before Zanya could respond, the woman hobbled off toward the valley. Zanya watched her crooked frame balance down the path until she reached the ground, where Arwan waited for her.

Zanya examined the perfect, clear sky. Her eyes widened when the atmosphere seemed to shift far beyond the point of the moon.

Wavering clouds of shimmering color formed in the distance.

A cheer roared from the crowd below, and flames from the fires cast flickering shadows over the celebrators dancing around them. Children ran along the outskirts of the valley, their faces and chests painted in bright colors as if they were tiny ancient warriors.

Zanya stepped forward, admiring the royal blue, emerald green, and deep purple streaks illuminating in the sky. The dancing lights were mesmerizing.

Energy surged through her, forcing her heart to race. But this time it wasn’t her. It was her stone, reacting to the presence of the gods of Tamoanchan.

A warm hand took hers. She looked to see Tara beside her, her lips parted. A tear ran down her friend’s cheek. Zanya squeezed her hand. She looked back down at Arwan, who stood beside the base of a temple. Drina’s arm was interlocked with his. As much as the priestess wanted to seem cold and callous, it was clear she loved Arwan like a son. At least he had that.

She inhaled, fighting back the flood of emotion tearing through her. If only things would have turned out differently, this night could have meant so much more.

Cold skin grazed the outside of her other hand. Jayden’s fingers slipped between hers, and he stood silently beside her. She tried to smile. She really did. But her heart ached so intensely, she couldn’t stop the sob clawing up her throat.

Jayden rested his cool lips against her forehead. “I know,” he whispered. His familiar voice brought a tiny shadow of comfort.

The chants grew louder as the lights reached toward the crowds. The first swirl of color wound around two Riyata, who stood on the other side of the valley with their hands interlocked.

Zanya sucked in a gasp while a soft white glow surrounded the lovers. Inside it, streaks of blue and green swayed and fluttered, bonding the two for life. Then there was a burst of light, as though a star had exploded, sending a rippling glow around the bonded pair.

Jayden squeezed her hand tighter. She glanced at him and then at Tara. Neither of them took their eyes off the scene in front of them.

Peter approached and took Tara’s other hand. The four of them stood side by side, watching the lights of Aurora bond willing souls. Another streak of light touched a couple, then another. It was magical and heartbreaking all at the same time.

A cluster of purple and green swirled and wove above her. Zanya lifted her gaze, watching as it became denser. The lights pulsed with life. Her stone buzzed wildly, streaking adrenaline through her veins.

“What’s going on?” Peter lifted his gaze to the gentle cyclone of colors above them.

Tara shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Zanya stared at the lights of Aurora slowly sinking down to the earth. She glanced to either side of her, then back up to the sky just as the lights engulfed them.

A cool wave of light washed over her skin. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and her chest quivered with every breath.

A burst of light exploded in the valley below, as if a star had fallen.