Lethe's Kiss (Ari & Soren Book 3)

Chapter 8 - Ari

A light tapping sound pulled me from the depths of sleep and I awoke, momentarily confused to find that I'd been transported from the library back to bed.

For a minute or so I lay still, staring up at the elaborate wood ceiling panels, and waiting for the fog in my brain to clear.

Rolling to the side, I sat up and leaned over with my elbows resting on my knees. A sick feeling lurked at the back of my throat, and cold sweat prickled over my skin. Low blood pressure, I concluded, as a dull ache drew my attention to my arm, where a red stain had seeped through the bandage over the cut.

I stared at it a moment and sighed. There had to be a less dramatic way of gathering blood. If Volkir could keep up on the latest trends in non-stick cookware, surely he could upgrade from the old 'knife and bowl' technique.

The tapping sound resumed, and when I looked towards the windows, my spirits lifted at the sight of Al on the other side, black feathers sparkling with mist from the falls as he strutted back and forth with something shiny in his beak. Mindful of the mild dizziness clouding my brain, I stood and made my way over to let him in.

"Hello, silly bird," I said, as he fluttered up to land on my shoulder. "What did you bring me now?"

I held up my hand and he dropped the shiny object onto my palm. It was a beautiful ring made of some light silver alloy with a delicate interwoven design set with a single larger stone. This I at first took to be a flawed diamond of some sort until, as it rested on my palm, I saw a tiny spark of light glimmering within and realized it must be the same strange quartz as the crystal orbs that lit Volkir's home.

It was then I realized I'd seen the ring before—many times. It was one Volkir himself always wore on the smallest finger of his left hand.

"Where did you get this, Al?" I asked.

Of course he didn't answer, other than to croak softly, ruffle his feathers, and gently nibble my ear with his beak.

"Oh well," I said, slipping it on the ring-finger of my right hand, "I'll just have to make your apologies for you when I give it back. Thief."

I stroked the soft feathers of his head and then yawned. It was past ten, meaning I'd slept nearly three hours, but I still felt drained.

Which, I supposed, was the literal truth.

Stepping out onto the wide stone balcony encircling the grotto below, I leaned against the balustrade and closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths and letting the rush and whisper of the falls fill my ears.

Reaching within for the magick at my core, I gently drew it forth and then opened myself to the ambient energy surrounding me. It was there in the gentle warmth of the winter sun, and in the cooling breath of the air; in the endless stream of water cascading from above, and in the solid dark bones of the earth beneath my feet. I called to it, drew it to myself, and let it flow through me like a river of light.

In a surprisingly short time, I came back to myself, released my hold on the magick, and took a few more deep breaths. Unwrapping the bandage on my arm, I found the skin beneath unblemished except for a thin scar, which would fade in time. Feeling as refreshed and renewed as if I'd just had a good night's sleep, I stretched my arms wide, dislodging Al from my shoulder as I did, and then was startled by a flash of light. It was Volkir's ring, glowing like a little star on my hand.

"Huh," I wondered aloud, "so that's how that works."

As much as I didn't particularly appreciate the fact that Volkir's home was built over a system of caves, I'd become aware that there was great power resting in the land here. Whether it was in the strange crystals in the caves, or some quality of the place itself, I didn't know. All I knew was that there was an enormous store of magick here, and it was even easier than usual for me to access it.