Marked (39 page)

Yet another flash caused her to take a step back, unsure of what was happening. She closed her eyes and concentrated, consciously awakening her inner energy. In that same moment, a peculiar, powerful, ancient energy coming from the medallion combined with her energy, creating a mystical union between them.

Aliana was frightened. Her heart began to beat like a stampede of runaway horses down a mountain pass. Never before had she experienced anything like this. The medallion was capable of identifying and interacting with her inner energy. She tried to keep it out, fearful that the intrusion could be dangerous. She had to fend it off.

But she couldn’t.

The link that had formed between the medallion’s power and her own was overwhelmingly strong. She was unable to break the bond, and the more she tried to repel the unwelcome force, the more she lost touch with the present moment. Her sense of where she was, even the notion of time, began to blur. Everything around her started to disappear into a mysterious fog that was slowly enclosing her and erasing the reality surrounding her. The place, the objects, everything before her eyes became translucent. Immaterial. In a matter of moments it had all vanished, replaced by an enveloping haze.

What is happening? This is so strange... A spell or some kind of power has been triggered and is encircling me. But, how? It couldn’t have been initiated by me.

But Aliana no longer felt afraid. She now understood that a powerful enchantment was taking place, and somehow knew there was nothing to fear. She relaxed and allowed the fog to completely engulf her. It was now so thick that she could see nothing beyond her own body, so thick she could almost catch the fog in her hands.

What is all this? What could this extraordinary occurrence mean?

As if responding to her thoughts, the medallion again glowed intensely.

A shadow began to take shape two steps in front of her.

Aliana took a step forward, separating the haze with her hands. She peered into the fog, trying to identify the silhouette that was forming before her, but it did not yet have a defined shape. Intrigued, her heart pounding, she waited as, little by little, the shadowy apparition began to take a human form. The scene before her seemed so unreal; it was as if she were dreaming. But her subconscious warned her to remain alert, assured her this was
not
a dream but rather an altered reality. Suddenly the haze around the human silhouette dissipated, as if a liberating gust of wind had blown it all away.

Before her appeared a young, strong-looking man with long, chestnut hair. He was crouched down and was holding a sword in one hand and a knife in the other. As he slowly finished materializing, the young man’s radiant emerald-green eyes looked at her in surprise. Those eyes... their fervor, their intensity, captivated Aliana. Slowly, alertly, the stranger stood up. He was about the same age as she was—about eighteen years old—and something in his serious expression, in those infinitely deep green eyes, expressed sadness and hardship. Aliana could clearly perceive that this young man had suffered greatly, and that suffering had quickly matured him. And though she knew this to be true, she could not understand how that emotion was being transferred to her. She looked at him attentively. He did not intimidate her; quite the contrary. His face, though circumspect, was kind, interesting, even handsome. But his attractiveness was different than Gerart’s classic good looks. It was more basic, more animalistic and masculine. It transmitted strength and character. His demeanor coupled with his athletic body gave him an almost wild fierceness; he was definitely a fighter, a warrior. Aliana was surprisingly enchanted by the young man, and found herself completely unable to look away from the warrior’s large, lush green eyes.

That is, until a bright white flash forced her to turn her away from that mysterious face... And that was when she saw he had a medallion hanging around his neck.

A medallion very similar to the one she was holding in her hand.

The two medallions began to emit flashes of light; brown sparks coming from hers and white ones from the young man’s. And as unbelievable as it seemed, she could almost swear that the medallions were communicating, exchanging energy. It was as if they were conversing... Aliana tried to communicate with the warrior, hoping for an explanation, but no sound came out of her throat. She tried again to speak but her vocal chords would not obey her will. The stranger sheathed his weapons and raised his hand to greet her.

Aliana did the same. She was still not in the least bit afraid—quite the opposite. She was instead experiencing a rush of joy that took her by surprise. As her stomach did somersaults, she felt a pang in her chest. Without even realizing it, she had hung the medallion she’d been holding in her hand around her neck.

And something inconceivable happened.

A beam of brown light shot from Aliana’s medallion toward a beam of white light coming from the young man’s medallion. The beacons collided in midair.

Looks of shock registered on both of their faces.

Aliana felt as if the beam was pulling on her inner energy, consuming it. And it was not only her energy, but her whole body. She planted her feet and leaned back to keep from being dragged by the force of the ray. An intense pain began to course through her body.

The young man before her was also fighting against the force that was pushing them, trying desperately to keep his balance. The pain was intensifying; it was like a thousand red-hot needles viciously stabbing her all over. Something unexplainable and extraordinary was happening and Aliana—without understanding it—simply knew it; she could perceive it. A strong bond was being formed between the two powerful entities; it seemed as if the two medallions were communicating with each other, exchanging and evaluating information, using their young hosts’ bodies as tools to their own end. Aliana clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, nearly unable to stand the excruciating torture her body was experiencing.

Suddenly, the bond was broken and the pain instantly vanished.

Stunned and off balance, Aliana fell back and landed on the floor. She looked at the young warrior who was still standing.

Then all of a sudden, he began to disappear.

No! Don’t go, please!
She tried to shout, but no sound came out. Aliana held out her hand in a vain attempt to grab him, to keep him from going.

The young man held his hand out, too, but was fading away with each passing moment.

No! Stay! I need to know who you are! What does all this mean?
But the warrior had already departed. As Aliana looked down at the medallion, she noticed the fog that had been surrounding her was quickly dissipating. As if awakening from a deep dream state, she was once again back in the underground temple’s chamber, surrounded by her fellow expeditioners.

Gerart ran to her, took her by the arms and shook her vigorously.

“Aliana, wake up! Come back to us!”

“I’m here... I’m back,” she said.

“For the love of my uncle Larkin the Liar’s mustache! What the hell happened?” barked Sergeant Mortuc.

“A spell... a dream, I think... I’m not sure. It was the medallion; somehow it came to life and conjured up some kind of magic that pulled me and everything around me into a dream.”

“You scared us to death! You suddenly just stopped responding; you were gone... like you were in a trance,” said the Prince.

“I don’t know what how to explain it. But I know that this medallion is a truly powerful object; I’ve just experienced that power firsthand.”

“Are you sure you still want to hold on to it?” asked the Prince. “I can take it if you want.”

“No, it’s all right. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. The medallion is my responsibility now.”

“Whatever you prefer,” conceded Gerart.

After a bit of preparation, the group was ready to go. Carrying the Mage in an improvised stretcher, they started out toward the entrance to the cave, leaving behind the mysterious underground temple with the brilliant scarlet rock.

The Ilenian Temple of the Earth.

Not having experienced any more setbacks, it did not take them long to get to the surface. They hurried to the mouth of the cave where they had left the rest of the group to defend it. As they looked ahead to the entrance where the rays of sunlight cut through the darkness of the somber cavern, a macabre, heartbreaking scene awaited.

Everyone was dead.

There had apparently been a fierce battle and the lifeless, bloodied bodies of every one of their companions were lying at the entrance, the blood of those brave men and women splattered across the walls and stony floor. The Usik had taken away their own dead and left behind the corpses of the defenders.

Seeing the bodies of her sisters of the Order, Aliana’s knees went weak as she let out a moan of anguish and pain. Gerart reached out for her, holding her up and trying to comfort her in the face of the horrendous spectacle. Wrapping her in his arms, he turned her face away from the tragic scene.

Silently, they all stood staring at the dismal image. Doing their best to not make a sound, they set the stretcher on the ground and quietly unsheathed their weapons. There was no sign of the Usik but they knew they could not have gone far.

It was then that they heard the sound of a dying man’s voice.

“We held on... until the last man... Sergeant,” sputtered Morgen, a trickle of blood in the corner of his mouth.

Mortuc hurried to his side and cradled his head. As soon as he saw the fatal wounds he shook his head, refusing the help Aliana was offering. The veteran Royal Lancer was beyond hope.

“I have absolutely no doubt of that, Morgen.”

“They... attacked in waves... we drove them back...” mumbled the brave soldier, his voice nearly inaudible, the last bit of strength escaping him.

“I knew you wouldn’t fail me, Royal Lancer; I knew you would fulfill your duty. I am proud of you.”

“There were too many of them... we couldn’t...”

“You carried out my orders. You held your position, for Rogdon, for the country, with bravery and honor.”

“For Rogdon... Sergeant.”

And he took his last breath.

Visibly emotional, Mortuc closed the Lancer’s eyes and offered a short prayer to the Light for the valiant man’s soul.

With a heavy heart, fighting back tears, Lomar approached Jasmine’s body. Her face was covered with blood; her green eyes, closed. She was lying under several other bodies. Across her chest lay Olga, a deadly lance protruding from her back. Unable to process what his eyes were seeing, refusing to accept that she was dead, Lomar crouched down beside Jasmine, his heart silently screaming out in suffering. He put his ear over her mouth, hoping for a miracle, listening intently, closing out the sounds around him... and waiting for a breath of air, of any evidence of life. He waited a long while, but heard nothing.

She was dead.

But just when Lomar was about to pull back, he felt the tiniest hint of a breath against his ear. Like a man possessed, he began pushing the bodies off her, trying to free her.

When Aliana saw what was happening, she ran to Lomar and knelt beside him, leaning over Jasmine’s body.

“She’s alive! I heard her breathe! It was terribly weak, but I heard it!”

“Are you sure?” questioned Aliana.

“I am. Try, please, I’m begging you!”

Aliana placed her hands on Jasmine, and using her power began to infuse her body with healing energy. Instantly she detected that Jasmine’s heart, though extremely weak, was beating!

“She’s alive—miraculously, but she’s alive!”

Hearing that, Lomar was so overcome with feelings of happiness and immeasurable relief that he nearly burst into tears. Somehow he managed to hold them back, remembering that a Royal Lancer cannot show any weakness of character. For quite some time he watched as Aliana worked to save the life of this young woman who had stolen his heart. Finally, Aliana withdrew her hands and smiled.

Jasmine opened her stunning green eyes and the first thing she saw was Lomar’s worried face.  

“What... What happened?” she asked as she brought her hand to her head.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” Lomar quickly assured her.

“Jasmine, you took a horrible blow to the head. We should stitch it up right away; they nearly split your head wide open,” explained Aliana.

“Yes... I remember something hitting me when I was helping Olga... I think I lost consciousness. How is she? And the others?”

Lomar looked into her anxious face, then lowered his eyes and shook his head.

Jasmine looked away. The horrible message had immediately sunk in.

“We need a needle and some thread for suturing,” said Aliana. Mortuc handed them to her, and she carefully attended to the wound.

When she’d finished, she asked Jasmine how she was feeling.

“I’m fine, Sister Healer. Don’t worry about me.”

Jasmine tried to get up, but she was overcome by dizziness. Lomar was at the ready and reached out to steady her.

“It would be best if you could help her, Lomar,” asked Aliana. “That bump on the head was pretty serious so she will most likely suffer from fainting and vomiting for a time.”