Pack of secrets, p.26
Pack of Secrets, page 26
“According to Sereana, it’s ‘The canyon of stone that burns to lime,’” the alpha added.
Recognition lifted my head. “We’re there? Already?” This was it?
“No thanks to you,” the alpha spat. Didn’t sound like he’d be referring to me as his daughter again any time soon. Shocker. “Come on. We have to find the tree.”
He started walking. Avoiding my gaze, Rust followed. Mackiel shook his head at me and did the same. All three of my packmates looked exhausted. They’d slept off the portal lag, but they’d shifted twice over a short period of time with a sprint in between. I felt awful, but it didn’t matter. I could apologize until I was blue in the face, and nothing I said would fix what I’d done. Any attempts to explain my behavior would be seen as making excuses. My only chance at redemption was to find ‘the heart of life birthed from the blood of two brothers’ and offer it to the alpha on a platter made from any metal but silver.
Hurrying to catch up with my companions, I asked, “We’re looking for a tree?”
The alpha ignored me.
Okay, I’d screwed up, but come on. We needed to work together to find this thing so we could get out of there. I took a few deep breaths and tried again. “I’m trying to help, Alpha. Please tell me what we’re looking for.”
He rounded on me, his golden glare pinning me in place. My father, the man, tolerated me. Sometimes, I could even fool myself into believing he liked me. Maybe he would have loved me had the circumstances of my conception and birth been different.
However, my father, the wolf, was a pragmatic beast who weighed pros and cons, making emotionless decisions that benefitted the pack. The wolf saw me as a liability. A weakness. He’d almost taken my life during my Bloodrite, and my shenanigans since had no doubt only driven down my value. As the wolf’s gaze held me captive, he took my measure and weighed my usefulness. When he leaned forward—invading my personal space—it took every ounce of courage I had not to cower.
“Every goddamn time I start to believe you might turn out to be something other than a fecking disappointment, you prove me wrong, Grace.”
After nineteen years, I should be immune to his insults, but they were like arrows that never failed to hit their mark. I wanted to rage at him, to tell him I was doing the best I could under the circumstances and had no idea what more he wanted from me. I longed to apologize for being born and remind him I’d never asked for any of this.
But I wasn’t ready to die quite yet, so I kept my mouth shut.
“How many times do I have to tell you that the pack always comes first?” he asked.
It was a rhetorical question, but when I didn’t answer, he clenched his fists. I got the distinct impression it required all his willpower not to pummel me.
“You think this is a game?” he asked. “That those assholes from the ship won’t gut us if they get the chance?”
“No, Alpha. I don’t think it’s a game,” I insisted.
“Then why the feck would you put us all in danger like this?” he roared.
His rage ricocheted off the cavern walls, battering me again and again. He was my alpha—my protector—and he wanted to kill me. I could see it in his eyes. My wolf whimpered, desperate to appease him. To make him happy and proud of us. She didn’t understand why that seemed impossible. Why nothing I ever did made him love us. A deep, menacing growl came from the alpha’s throat. Instincts kicked in, and I took a step back before I could stop myself.
Rust stepped forward. “Alpha…”
The alpha spun on him. “This is your fault. I entrusted you with her training. You were supposed to hone her into a weapon for the pack. Instead, you let her grow into a disobedient bitch who puts us at risk. You were too lenient and now look at her. She’s useless to me.”
When Rust didn’t respond, the alpha spun back to me, his index finger pointed in my face. “This will be the last time you put my pack in danger. You hear me?”
Useless to me.
Those three little words wouldn’t stop echoing in my head. I swallowed the ball of emotion clogging my throat as my wolf whined. She wanted to be one with the pack and didn’t understand why I kept messing it up. Frustrated and misunderstood, I dropped my gaze and leaned my head to the side, showing the alpha my neck. “Is leatsa mo shaol, Alpha.”
He accepted my submission, and the gold drained from his eyes until they were once again the same forest green as mine. The pressure on my chest eased. Behind me, Mackiel released an audible breath.
The alpha turned and started walking again. I didn’t expect him to actually answer the question I had asked, so I was surprised when he said, “Sereana said it will be a tree. One of those umbrella-looking ones we saw along the way.”
“Dragon blood trees,” Rust clarified.
The alpha nodded. “Their Arabic name means ‘the blood of the two brothers.’ They only grow on this island, and the original tree should be somewhere in this canyon. Sereana seems to think we’ll know it when we see it.”
I wondered if it would call to me like the chalice had. Hopefully not, since that kind of creeped me out. The canyon opened up, revealing what could only be described as a mythical fairyland.
“Holy shit,” Mackiel breathed.
I had to agree. It was like nothing I could have imagined. In vivid shades of greens, yellows, reds, and blues, pools danced around the umbrella-shaped trees Dad had mentioned. But unlike the dragon blood trees above, these trees were speckled in vibrant rainbow shades, looking more like enormous magic mushrooms than umbrellas. Multicolored butterflies and moths flitted around a collection of teal rocks. A strange, elongated lizard dove for a treat, but the moth rose out of range at the last instant.
The soft earthen smell of the canyon carried a hint of natural sweetness, like the tea with honey I sometimes drank with Aunt Sereana. I breathed in deeply and let the familiarity center me in this bizarre land. We had to be getting close to the tree, and with it, my one shot at redemption.
One heart, delivered on a non-silver platter coming up.
Steering clear of the moss-covered walls, we wove through the pools to another bend in the canyon. This one led to the right. We continued through the narrow canyon until it widened, and we got our first look at what had to be the original dragon blood tree. It was the most magnificent tree I’d ever laid eyes on. It stood smack dab in the canyon’s center, the base of its shimmery, silver trunk elevated at least thirty feet off the ground by dozens of enormous, exposed roots that led up to it like ramps.
The alpha led us to the base of one root and held up a hand for us to hold back. He tentatively took one step and then another. When the root didn’t immediately snap to life and buck him off, he strode forward, gesturing for us to follow. I went next, with Mackiel on my heels and Rust watching our six.
The tree itself wasn’t very tall—maybe thirty feet or so—but its presence was unlike anything I’d ever felt. I opened my spiritual sight and saw a tapestry so rich and majestic that all I could do was gape at it. I’d never seen a sentient tree before. Judging by the details on its tapestry, it had to be centuries old.
“The flowers are the color of blood,” Rust pointed out.
I blinked, returning my vision to normal to study the canopy of elongated green leaves. Sure enough, Rust was right. Unlike the barely visible white and green flower clusters on the other trees, these were deep crimson.
“We approach with caution,” the alpha said, adjusting his rifle in his hands.
I wasn’t sure when he’d drawn the weapon from its sling, but the tension rolling off him made me reevaluate the scene. I pulled my Glock as we crept forward, watching all directions at once. I’d seen nothing but a sentient tree and oddly colored bugs and lizards since we entered the canyon, but anything could be hiding in the mossy shadows between exposed roots.
We were only a few feet from the trunk when a whimsical voice said, “Come closer, Daughter of Light.”
Startled, I looked to my companions. “Did you hear that?”
The alpha froze. “What’d you hear, Grace?”
“A voice. It told me to come closer and called me Daughter of Light? What does that mean?”
My father’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch before his expression hardened. “Doesn’t matter. You think it’s the tree?”
There was something he wasn’t telling me. That was no surprise since my old man rarely told me anything, but this had to do with me. My hackles rose as I watched him, but before I could answer, the voice spoke again.
“There is something I wish to show you.”
Was it the tree? The fire sprite’s voice had tinkled melodiously, but this one made me think of wind rushing through leaves. But maybe it could hear my thoughts like the sprite had.
“Who are you?” I thought back.
The trunk of the dragon blood tree moved.
Spooked, I rocketed back, but the alpha snatched my arm and tugged me to his side. Wood and bark splintered with thunderous creaks and pops, forcing outward and re-forming into the semblance of a person trying to escape the tree, its upper body leaning away from the trunk. Then it thrust a hand toward me, palm up.
It wasn’t escaping; it was… inviting.
The being’s lips were neither smiling nor frowning, and as I looked into its round eyes, a deep sense of sadness wrapped around me. I studied its tapestry again, only to realize heartbreak was woven into its spirit. Sadness wasn’t something it needed to deal with; it was part of who it was.
I couldn’t help but glance at Mackiel, wondering if this was what the evolution of my friend’s depression would look like. How was the tree functioning? And how could it be so sad surrounded by all the magical wonder of the canyon? If I lived here, I’d feel safe and… lonely. God, it was so very lonely.
“What does it want?” my father asked.
My attention was still locked on the tapestry. It was beautifully tragic, and I couldn’t look away. “To show me something.”
He spun me to face him, breaking the spell. He gave me a firm shake that made my teeth rattle. “Focus, Grace. You need to get the tree’s heart.”
“How?” More importantly, why? Its heart was already broken. It had suffered enough.
“I don’t know. It’s a magical being, so find out what it wants and see if you can make a deal.”
He wanted me to negotiate for its heart? That was the craziest thing I’d ever heard, but the fervor in my father’s eyes told me there’d be no arguing.
“Okay,” I said. Remembering who I was talking to, I hurried to add, “Yes, Alpha.”
He squeezed my arms. “Agree to whatever it wants, you hear me? Whatever it wants.”
I stared at him in shock. He was willing to pay any price to release my wolf? Even after I’d set the fire sprite free and pissed off the Sons of Oannes? Hell, I wasn’t willing to pay any price for my life. If this tree asked for my firstborn or something equally monstrous, I was out. But I couldn’t tell Dad that. Not when his eyes were rimmed in glowing gold and fur ghosted his arms.
Uncertainty felt like a lump of silver in my gut, poisoning me from the inside out, but I nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”
“I’m counting on you. Don’t let me down.”
Something was going on here, and I had a bad feeling about it. Were we still talking about retrieving an item to release my wolf? A chill skittered up my spine as I held his gaze. “I won’t.”
He released me.
I looked to Rust and Mackiel, but neither said anything. With no other options, I holstered my Glock, approached the tree, and slid my hand on top of its upturned wooden palm.
Grace
The dragon tree’s wooden hand turned sideways, wrapping its fingers around mine and trapping me. I let out a startled squeak and looked to the alpha, but the disapproval written on his face turned me back around. Agree to whatever it wants. Right. I blew out a shaky breath.
“Okay, I’m here,” I said aloud so my father could hear my compliance. “What do you wish to show me?”
“Watch closely,” the whimsical voice said in my head.
Then, everything went black.
Bright, scintillating shapes and colors pierced the darkness, flashing and swirling until I could no longer tell up from down. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos around me settled, and I once again stood in the canyon. Only Dad, Rust, Mackiel, and the ancient dragon blood tree were gone.
A six-foot-tall monolith sprung up in the center of the canyon floor. As I watched, a young couple materialized and approached the monolith arm-in-arm, the man carrying a basket of flowers in his free hand. Both were clothed in rudimentary strips of leather, and the woman was sporting a massive baby bump that turned her walk into more of a waddle. They spoke quietly in a language I couldn’t understand, and after depositing the flower basket in front of the monolith, the two shared a long look and an even longer kiss.
I was beginning to feel like a peeping tom, but a second man appeared, and—plot twist—he had to be the first man’s identical twin brother. He stormed onto the scene, his face a mask of rage as he pointed and shouted at the first twin. Confusion flashed in the woman’s eyes as she looked from one man to the next before pushing away from the first twin. Twin Two was carrying an iron-tipped spear, and he raised it and charged the first twin with a cry.
Twin One spoke, and roots shot out of the limestone ground, entangling the second twin’s feet. Twin Two threw his spear at Twin One, who lurched to the side, fast enough to keep the weapon from nailing anything vital but too slow to avoid it altogether. A red streak formed across his arm, and the scent of blood overwhelmed the burnt ozone stench of magic. Blood gushed from the wound, and the skin around it turned grey. The man screamed, slapping a hand over the wound to stanch the blood flow.
With one hand protectively cradling her swollen belly, the woman shouted at the brothers. I couldn’t understand her words, but her intention was clear. She wanted them to knock that shit off before someone got seriously injured. Neither paid her any mind.
Twin Two squatted, plucked a stone from the canyon floor, and slashed at the roots clinging to his ankles. I didn’t think a rock would do much, but with Twin One distracted by his injury, Twin Two freed himself within seconds. He dove for the spear with the grace of a trained thief, rising with the weapon in hand. With murder in his eyes, he stalked toward Twin One, who summoned another root. It shot out of the ground and straight toward Twin Two like a nature missile, striking him in the chest with a wet thump before shooting out his back. At the same time, Twin Two buried his blade into his brother's chest.
Both men fell, blood pooling around them.
The woman screamed.
Lightning split the sky, and a woman so gorgeous she had to be a goddess stepped through a portal, hovering above the ground. She wore a sheer white dress, her long, dark tresses hung past her waist, and her almond-shaped sky-blue eyes were charged with power.
The pregnant woman fell to her knees before the goddess, dropping her head to the ground in a bow of reverence. She muttered, “Sikotar Mata.”
Only a few feet away, the twins were dying. Their breaths came in labored pants as their mahogany skin greyed. The goddess frowned at them before closing her eyes and whispering something I couldn’t make out. The hard ground cracked between the twins’ bodies, and green fronds shot through the newly formed hole in the limestone. Dripping in the blood of the brothers, they rose, crumbling the ground and absorbing the bodies and the stone monolith. Within seconds, the umbrella-shaped tree stood as tall as the goddess, its roots raising the ground as they tunneled through it.
When the tree settled, the goddess smiled fondly at her creation. “Bear witness, my pet,” she said in perfect English. “I warned the brothers their war would bring nothing but death, but they refused to listen. Now, they will pay.”
They were dead. I figured that was payment enough, but she turned and pointed at the woman’s swollen belly.
“For spilling blood on my sacred ground, I curse their descendants. Like their fathers before them, one line shall be born iron, the other of ether, and they will clash until one eradicates the other.”
Then, she vanished, leaving the pregnant woman sobbing beside the blood tree.
My mind stuttered as I realized what I was witnessing. Was that how the animosity between the Mondeine and the Tricari had begun? Brothers cursed to wipe one another out?
The woman and the bodies faded as days and nights cycled past. The tree’s roots stretched across the island, and my subconscious followed. Warm breezes tickled my skin, and the innocent laughter of children rang through my ears. I followed the sound to find water sprites dancing over the white, sandy beaches. Their tiny bodies shimmered, and they suddenly appeared human. That was the cloaking? It was incredible!
“Where did the cloaking come from?” I asked, but nobody answered.
Nymphs galloped over grassy hills, playing tricks on lion creatures with humanoid upper bodies. Seemingly oblivious to the Tricari living among them, the Mondeine thrived in their villages, building, growing, and expanding.
Life was happy. Peaceful.
I wondered why the two factions weren’t trying to kill one another.
Then a male with skin the color of honey and short, spiky hair in all the shades of sunset appeared. His clothes were so pale and delicate that they looked like woven spider webs, and when he turned his kind, whiskey-colored eyes on the tree, his entire being brightened. The tree’s heart soared at the sight of him.
He was love and light. Companionship.
He was Everything.
Then darkness shrouded the island. Fear clouded the male’s eyes as bombs exploded and magic raged. Something had changed, and Mondeine and Tricari were at war. I rode the shoulders of the honey-skinned Everything as he fled in fear. Heart pounding, he raced for his tree. Shots rang out. Struck from behind, he jerked forward. His knees buckled, pitching him forward. Fire erupted in his torso as the iron bullets burned the sap in his veins.
