Dark Slayer (54 page)
“Thank you, Francesca,” Razvan said, with a slight, formal bow. “We both appreciate your aid. You probably saved our lives.”
“I doubt that.” Francesca led the way through the cavern to the ceremonial chamber where everyone waited.
A hush fell over the crowd as they entered. Ivory moved closer to Razvan. She could smell sage and lavender. Candles adorned every conceivable crevice and ledge, the flickering lights casting soft shadows over the walls. Above their heads, crystals adorned the ceiling, and the dancing lights sent the gems sparkling on and off like a blanket of stars. Ivory slid her arm along Razvan’s, shocked that such a crowd of people ringed the room—staring at them.
Mikhail glided from the center of the room, closing the distance between them. He clasped Razvan’s arm in the formal manner of greeting between two experienced and respected hunters. “
Pesäsz jeläbam ainaak
—long may you stay in the light. Thank you for your great service to our people.”
Razvan didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He stared over Mikhail’s shoulder even after Mikhail turned to Ivory and clasped her arms in the same formal manner.
“
Sívad olen wäkeva, hän ku piwtä
—may your heart stay strong, hunter,” Mikhail greeted. “Your people thank you for your great service.” He stepped back and bowed, a long, low sweeping bow indicating great respect.
To Ivory’s shock, the entire room bowed with him. Emotion choked her, constricting her throat, and she glanced to Razvan. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t changed expression, as if he were frozen there, his face carved in stone. He hadn’t seen the tremendous tribute. He hadn’t taken his eyes from across the room. She turned her head to follow his gaze.
There was no mistaking who the woman was seated beside Nicolas De La Cruz—
Lara
. Ivory couldn’t drink in her beloved Nicolas, not when Razvan’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He just crumbled inside. Outside, he appeared aloof and apart from everything. Inside, he simply dissolved. His inner peace was gone—destroyed. He couldn’t breathe; his heart accelerated to the point she feared it might explode.
Every memory, every horrendous detail of this child’s life, crowded into his head. The scent of her blood. The feel of his teeth tearing into her flesh, unable to stop, unable to do anything other than warn her, try to get her to run. Yet there was nowhere for her to run. No place for her to go, and he was helpless to save her. The hopeless despair and weight of terrible guilt drove him to his knees. Tiny red beads tracked down his face. His hands were unsteady as he tried to push himself up.
Razvan just knelt there beside her, and for the first time, Ivory felt panic. He wasn’t ready for this. She should never have allowed him to come to this place. She dropped to her knees beside him, her arms around him in spite of the fact that he didn’t want her comfort. He didn’t feel he deserved it. He had been unable to protect his child not only from Xavier, but from himself, from the monster Xavier had forced him to be. To Razvan, possession was no excuse. This child, his beloved Lara, had been born of him, but like Skyler, she had been in the midst of monsters.
He knew her. He loved her. Even when he couldn’t feel the emotion, it had been there, far off, remembered. His sense of family, the Dragonseeker blood, calling to him, to her.
“Father?” The voice was a child’s voice.
Razvan looked up and there she stood, right in front of him, tears sliding down her face. Lara wrapped her arms around him and held him to her with Ivory.
“It’s all right. Really. I’m all right. Nicolas has taken great care of me, and now that you’re here with us, and I know you really were trying to get me out of there, everything is all right.”
“I do not deserve you.”
Lara smiled. “Neither does Nicolas, but I love him all the same.” The smile faded and she looked serious. “I am proud to be your daughter.”
Nicolas helped Razvan to his feet. “And I, your son.” He grinned a little mischievously, something that shocked Ivory as he leaned over to brush a kiss on her cheek. “Hello, Mother.”
Ivory gave him a mock scowl, but the ease in Razvan was worth the unfamiliar teasing.
Razvan found a smile forming in his heart. “Take my daughter and sit where she can rest,” he instructed, “so they may get started.”
Ivory touched his mind again. The terrible pain had eased, but she knew he still felt it. She wrapped her arm around him tightly and clung there while the prince walked to the middle of the room and the hush fell again.
Gregori and Savannah carried their babies into the center of the room. The crowd erupted with joy, the walls expanding as though they couldn’t contain so much happiness. Razvan wrapped his arm around Ivory’s waist and held her close.
“Everyone will pledge to love and support those children,” Ivory said, remembering the ceremony from her childhood. “All of us are expected to educate, love and become family to them so that should anything happen to their parents, they will not feel alone in the world.” She brushed a kiss along the side of his face. “More children for you.”
He flicked her a promise of retaliation at the laughter in her voice. “We will have to have at least ten more.”
Ivory sucked in her breath and scowled at him. She didn’t know the first thing about babies—give her a sword every time.
Razvan made a little snorting sound and even the wolves stirred as if they were laughing.
Gregori handed his daughter to the prince. The baby seemed impossibly tiny to Ivory, but she had all her fingers and toes and a head of thick, dark hair—and she was alive. Her head turned and her eyes met Ivory’s. There was awareness there. Ivory’s throat tightened more.
“Who names this child?” Mikhail asked.
“Her father,” Gregori answered.
“Her mother,” Savannah proclaimed.
“Her people,” the entire crowd chanted back.
“I name you Anastasia Daratrazanoff,” Mikhail said. “Born in battle, crowned with love. Who will accept the offer of the Carpathian people to love and raise our daughter?”
“Her parents, with gratitude,” Savannah and Gregori answered formally.
The second infant was handed to Mikhail with great care. She was visibly smaller and a little more fragile, with the same head of dark hair. She, too, looked at Ivory as Mikhail held her high in the air for the Carpathian people to see. Elation swept through the room at the sight of the small baby, an almost electric excitement that had tears swimming in Ivory’s eyes. She smiled at the baby and was shocked when the infant smiled back.
“Who names this child?” Mikhail asked.
“Her father,” Gregori answered. His voice sounded choked, as if he could barely get the words past the lump in his throat.
“His mother,” Savannah replied, cuddling little Anastasia protectively against her body.
“Her people,” every man, woman and child in the room proclaimed in unison.
“I name you Anya Daratrazanoff,” Mikhail announced. “Born in battle, crowned with love. Who will accept the offer of the Carpathian people to love and raise our daughter?”
“Her parents, with gratitude.” Gregori and Savannah accepted the tremendous honor and duty together.
The crowd erupted into singing and chanting, joy filling the ceremonial chamber. Laughter broke out. Ivory caught sight of Travis hugging Falcon. He looked happy and carefree. She found herself smiling right along with the rest of them.
“I suppose we should swear allegiance to the prince,” she whispered.
“I suppose,” Razvan agreed, “but not now. Now, I want to take you home and start on those ten children we are going to have.”
Ivory laughed and placed her hand in his. She doubted the ten children thing was ever going to happen, but she certainly had no objections to the trying.
APPENDIX 1
Carpathian Healing Chants
To rightly understand Carpathian healing chants, background is required in several areas:
1. The Carpathian view on healing
2. The Lesser Healing Chant of the Carpathians
3. The Great Healing Chant of the Carpathians
4. Carpathian musical aesthetics
5. Lullaby
6. Song to Heal the Earth
7. Carpathian chanting technique
1. THE CARPATHIAN VIEW ON HEALING
The Carpathians are a nomadic people whose geographic origins can be traced back to at least as far as the Southern Ural Mountains (near the steppes of modern-day Kazakhstan), on the border between Europe and Asia. (For this reason, modern-day linguists call their language “proto-Uralic,” without knowing that this is the language of the Carpathians.) Unlike most nomadic peoples, the wandering of the Carpathians was not due to the need to find new grazing lands as the seasons and climate shifted, or the search for better trade. Instead, the Carpathians’ movements were driven by a great purpose: to find a land that would have the right earth, a soil with the kind of richness that would greatly enhance their rejuvenative powers.
Over the centuries, they migrated westward (some six thousand years ago), until they at last found their perfect homeland—their
susu
—in the Carpathian Mountains, whose long arc cradled the lush plains of the kingdom of Hungary. (The kingdom of Hungary flourished for over a millennium—making Hungarian the dominant language of the Carpathian Basin—until the kingdom’s lands were split among several countries after World War I: Austria, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Yugoslavia and modern Hungary.)
Other peoples from the Southern Urals (who shared the Carpathian language, but were not Carpathians) migrated in different directions. Some ended up in Finland, which accounts for why the modern Hungarian and Finnish languages are among the contemporary descendents of the ancient Carpathian language. Even though they are tied forever to their chosen Carpathian homeland, the wandering of the Carpathians continues, as they search the world for the answers that will enable them to bear and raise their offspring without difficulty.
Because of their geographic origins, the Carpathian views on healing share much with the larger Eurasian shamanistic tradition. Probably the closest modern representative of that tradition is based in Tuva (and is referred to as “Tuvinian Shamanism”)—see the map on the previous page.
The Eurasian shamanistic tradition—from the Carpathians to the Siberian shamans—held that illness originated in the human soul, and only later manifested as various physical conditions. Therefore, shamanistic healing, while not neglecting the body, focused on the soul and its healing. The most profound illnesses were understood to be caused by “soul departure,” where all or some part of the sick person’s soul has wandered away from the body (into the nether realms), or has been captured or possessed by an evil spirit, or both.
The Carpathians belong to this greater Eurasian shamanistic tradition and share its viewpoints. While the Carpathians themselves did not succumb to illness, Carpathian healers understood that the most profound wounds were also accompanied by a similar “soul departure.”
Upon reaching the diagnosis of “soul departure,” the healer-shaman is then required to make a spiritual journey into the nether worlds to recover the soul. The shaman may have to overcome tremendous challenges along the way, particularly: fighting the demon or vampire who has possessed his friend’s soul.
“Soul departure” doesn’t require a person to be unconscious (although that certainly can be the case as well). It was understood that a person could still appear to be conscious, even talk and interact with others, and yet be missing a part of their soul. The experienced healer or shaman would instantly see the problem nonetheless, in subtle signs that others might miss: the person’s attention wandering every now and then, a lessening in their enthusiasm about life, chronic depression, a diminishment in the brightness of their “aura,” and the like.
2. THE LESSER HEALING CHANT OF THE CARPATHIANS
Kepä Sarna Pus
(The Lesser Healing Chant)
is used for wounds that are merely physical in nature. The Carpathian healer leaves his body and enters the wounded Carpathian’s body to heal great mortal wounds from the inside out using pure energy. He proclaims, “I offer freely my life for your life,” as he gives his blood to the injured Carpathian. Because the Carpathians are of the earth and bound to the soil, they are healed by the soil of their homeland. Their saliva is also often used for its rejuvenative powers.
It is also very common for the Carpathian chants (both the Lesser and the Great) to be accompanied by the use of healing herbs, aromas from Carpathian candles, and crystals. The crystals (when combined with the Carpathians’ empathic, psychic connection to the entire universe) are used to gather positive energy from their surroundings, which then is used to accelerate the healing. Caves are sometimes used as the setting for the healing.
The Lesser Healing Chant was used by Vikirnoff Von Shrieder and Colby Jansen to heal Rafael De La Cruz, whose heart had been ripped out by a vampire as described in
Dark Secret
.
