Mayan Blood (24 page)

The light in her chest flickered on and soothed her burning lungs. It tamed the heat until another surge exploded through her, smothering her power before it could grow.

Something popped in her ears. At first she thought it was the electricity, until she tasted the blood and felt a corkscrew pain in her mouth from shattered teeth.

For the first time in her life, the pain motivated her to work harder. With a great inner drive, she commanded it to life. The orb in her chest returned and again tamed the electricity, absorbing the shock, and pushing it away from her skin. Before long, the sparks fizzled out, and the energy that churned with such vitality flickered out with it.

Zanya lay exhausted on the bed, tears streaming down the sides of her face. But she had done it. For the first time, she conquered something she thought she could never defeat.

Arwan gathered her in his arms. Every muscle in her body screamed at his touch. “Get some cool rags.” He pressed his hand to her forehead. “She’s burning up.”

Zanya tried to lift her head, but with little energy to do much more than breathe, she just lay in Arwan’s arms. She still didn’t know what exactly had happened, but she’d beat it. She finally controlled her light.

When the ice-cold rag draped over her forehead, she gasped, and her vision went black.

***

There was no way to tell how much time had passed before Zanya opened her eyes. Light poured in from the windows. She swallowed and winced under the pain.

Someone rested a hand on hers. “How are you feeling?” Renato’s voice was soft and warm.

She slowly turned her head, her neck and back stiff and tender. “Not great.” She blinked, and a tear slid down her cheek.

“You frightened us.”

She braced her forearms on the mattress and scooted herself up the bed, groaning under the effort.

“Zanya, you should rest.”

“There’s no time.” Her hands shook and her sides throbbed. She sucked in a breath and collapsed into her pillow. “Sarian did something to the stone.” Her voice was still raspy, her throat tight and tender. Tears welled in her eyes. Her heart ached from the torment her stone translated—infinite loneliness and fear. “It’s been suffering, and I haven’t been there to protect it.”

“You cannot blame yourself.”

She could blame herself, and she did. Her mother had given her the stone to protect, and she didn’t even go an entire day before she lost it, and now…“The stone managed to stay strong until Sarian read from a book. Then…” She shook her head. That’s when it all fell apart. Whatever was written in that book tore through the obedience spell like it was rice paper. “He finally did it.”

Arwan sat on the bed beside her. She hadn’t even noticed he was in the room. “It could not be a simple spell book. It wouldn’t be strong enough to break the stone’s only protection. That spell was put on there by the shaman of the first Riyata tribe. His magic was the most powerful in history. What if it’s from someone else. A Riyata gone rogue, maybe?”

“Riyata do not usually dabble in black magic. It’s against our nature. If one of us has turned dark, it is by the doing of another, more powerful force that is most likely the source of the book.”

Oh God, the book.
She forgot to tell him about her dream. “I’ve seen the book before. I dreamed about it. I just didn’t think anything of it at the time. I’ve always had nightmares. It’s something I’ve gotten used to.”

“Perhaps this book is responsible. We’ll have to do more research when we have more at our disposal.”

There was a knock on the door. Arwan crossed the room and opened it to let Hawa and Jayden inside. Jayden walked directly past Arwan without any acknowledgement and stood at Zanya’s side. “Hey, beautiful.” He rested his hand over her forehead. “No fever.”

She tried to smile, but had almost no energy to pull it off in an even half-assed kind of way. “What, now you’re pretending to be Peter?”

“No. I sensed you were awake, though, and wanted to come check on you.”

“Sensed.” She nodded ever so slightly. “As in you were seeking me.”

He shrugged. “Same difference.” He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “I couldn’t help but overhear what you guys were talking about, and I think we should just find Sarian and take the stone as fast as we can. This is dangerous enough without Zanya turning into a human light bulb. The next attack could kill her. Especially now that Sarian broke through.”

Arwan paused. “The question is, if he can control the stone, why is Zanya still alive?” He glanced around. “Why are any of us still alive?”

“Yeah.” Hawa leaned against the wall. “The sky isn’t falling. I mean, this might sound weird, but…that worries me.”

“Indeed. We will press forward as soon as Zanya is recuperated.”

She sat up in her bed. It was like someone had beaten the hell out of her with a bat. “If I can heal as fast as Peter, I should be fine by the end of the day.” She ran her tongue over her shattered tooth, which had already seemed to heal.

Renato walked toward the door. “You’ve been sleeping for thirty-six hours. Let’s hope your body has done much of its recuperation already.” He left the room.

Arwan placed a kiss on Zanya's forehead. “I have to go talk to Renato.”

Jayden lingered in her room after Arwan left. “I should let you know I’ve been seeking you from my room, per Renato’s instructions. He asked me to keep an eye on you in case anything else happened. Just give me a heads-up before you change or shower.”

It had never occurred to her that Jayden could have looked at her during any time of the day, including when she wasn’t dressed. Her eyes widened like a deer in headlights.

He laughed. “I may be a lot of things, Zanya, but I’m not a perv.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

In honor of the engagement of Princess of Helena Augusta Victoria, Her Majesty the Queen Alexandrina Victoria requests your presence at the celebration ball. Mesdames and Messieurs holding invitations are invited to join. This event will be held at the Grosvenor Hotel, on the day of Our Lord, the 12th of December, year 1865.

Zanya lowered the invitation with gold script writing. “And you want us to go to this?”

“Sarian will certainly be there. This may be our only opportunity to retrieve the stone.”

“Where did you get the invitation?” Jayden leaned closer to see it.

“I purchased it from a swindler on the street.”

“How are you feeling?” Arwan asked. “Do you think you can go?”

“Do I think I can go to a royal ball?” She held up the invitation. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Jayden hung his head. “More shopping.”

Renato took the invitation. “Not all of us will need ball attire. Arwan and Hawa will stay behind while I accompany Jayden and Zanya to the event. And before you begin—” he held up his hand to Arwan, “—I will tell you why. Sarian is less likely to recognize one of us if there are less of us there. Jayden is able to seek Sarian without succumbing to a violent episode. He is also less likely to stand out among the fair-skinned locals.”

Jayden’s pompous grin clearly agitated Arwan. “Sorry, man. You’re just too culturally enriched.”

Zanya raised her finger at Jayden. “First, shut up.” She lowered her hand and turned her attention to Renato. “Second, if Sarian attacks us, all of us need to be there to fight.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Arwan said.

“But we are less likely to be spotted and attacked if we travel inconspicuously. We do not want to increase the chances of being recognized. There will be a clash, and blood will surely be shed.”

That made sense. The less danger, the better for everyone. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

Arwan looked at Renato. “I need to be there to protect her.”

“I’ll be there,” Jayden interjected. “We don’t need you.”

“You’re not capable of fending off Sarian if she’s attacked.”

“Incapable? Why don’t we see who’s incapable, Arnie?” He shrugged off his coat and threw it on the floor.

“Would you knock it off?” The agitation in Zanya's tone set the room quiet.

“Sorry, Zanya.” Jay snatched his coat from the floor. “He started it.”

Arwan jabbed his finger in the air. “He’s like a child! He doesn’t think before he acts—or speaks. He’ll do something to jeopardize Zanya's safety.”

Jayden shoved his arms in his jacket sleeves. “I would never jeopardize her safety.”

“The decision has been made,” Renato said sternly. Arwan stared at him for a moment before silently exiting the room.

Zanya glared at Jayden. “You don’t have to get under his skin like that. You two have to learn to get along.”

“I suggest you get ready,” Renato said. “We have a ball gown to buy.”

***

While Hawa spent the next week pouting over not attending the ball, Zanya and Jayden were tutored in the proper etiquette of the nineteenth century socialization. Arwan dutifully supervised, while Renato forced hours of prepping and pruning.

There was a way to speak, to stand, and several dance routines to be learned. Apparently there was also a specific way to greet ladies, men, elders, and royalty. Each had their own introduction procedure they were expected to follow, while still adhering to the conventional mannerisms of every proper socialite.

“Not like that,” Renato instructed. “You must bow deeper.”

Zanya leaned against the wall. Wherever he got her heels from, they were pinching her toes. “But last time you told me to just kind of dip.”

“That was for greeting a socialite. We are currently practicing the introduction to royalty. You must bow deeply, nearly touching your bottom to the floor, while keeping your back straight. Spread your gown around you, and your arms should be bent, only slightly.”

Dipping, back straight, feet throbbing and dress almost too heavy to bear, Zanya lost her balance and toppled over.

Jayden laughed, then stifled his chuckle when she glared at him. “Sorry.”

Zanya picked herself up and brushed off her gown. “Why does Jay get it so easy? He’s had the same introduction this whole time. And these shoes are killing my feet.” Typical. Men got a break while women had to be perfect.

“Perhaps, but we must continue. You cannot be presented without knowing social etiquette. Speaking of presentation, what name would you like to be announced under?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone is introduced when they arrive. We must settle on the name you wish to go by.”

“I was dropped off at the orphanage without any identification except name embroidered in my blanket from what my records said.” She shrugged. “I don’t have a last name.”

“You most certainly do.” He pushed out his chest, standing tall. “You are my niece, and the descendant of the first Stone Guardian of Muuk’Ich. You are a Coreandero.”

It was so odd. She’d never had family. Never even had a last name. “I’ve always just been patient A692.”

Renato took her by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I promise you, Zanya. You will never be without family again. I will care for you, just as I have cared for Hawa. I will never leave you.”

She smiled softly. “Thank you, Renato.”

They stood silent for several moments. Renato cleared his throat, blinking away unshed tears. “Let’s continue with our lesson, shall we?”

***

Hawa grudgingly assisted Zanya with lacing up the back of her gown. She slipped on her flat dress shoes, a pair she’d picked out herself to replace the heels.

Using all the practice she’d gotten with Renato, Zanya glided gracefully into the hall. Arwan waited for her by the door. He took her hand and spun her in a circle, flaring her dress like a bell.

“I wish I were accompanying you.”

“Well, don’t feel too bad. If I can avoid dancing, I will.”

“Still, it would be an experience.” He searched her face. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She wanted to make it out of this alive as much as he did. “Yeah, of course.”

He seemed satisfied with her answer. “Where’s your escort?”

“Jay should almost be ready.”

He frowned. “I was talking about Renato.”

“Oh, right. He should be out here any minute.”

Hawa came up behind her. She separated Zanya's curls and draped them over her shoulder. “Don’t go messing up my masterpiece. I didn’t spend two hours doing your hair with those ridiculous metal curlers for you to leave it hanging down your back like a wet mop.” She slipped a shimmering hairpin into the small bunch of curls and leaned into her. “Hair accessories can be deadly.” She stepped away and arched one side of her lip into a half-smile. “I’ll go let Renato know you’re ready.”

“Can I at least escort you to the lobby?” Arwan extended his arm.

Zanya smiled and slipped her arm around his. They walked together down to the main lobby and through the front doors. People stopped in the streets, smiling and whispering to each other while they passed. Zanya held up her gown from dragging on the dusty street. The crystal jewels sparkled against the layered chiffon.

The landau carriage arrived right on time, pulled by two glorious Clydesdale horses. Their silken coats and black manes shined under the sun.

Renato was equally fashionable, in a chocolate brown swallowtail coat with matching dress slacks and shiny leather shoes. He promptly removed his top hat upon sitting in the horse-drawn carriage.

“Where to, sir?” the coachman said from his tiny seat perched in the front of the carriage.

“The Grosvenor Hotel, please.”

The coachman tapped the lead horse on its flank.

The ride was long, but Zanya didn’t mind. The open carriage gave her the chance to enjoy the hillside towns. It was beautiful without skyscrapers and concrete in every direction. Jayden would—hey, wait. “Where’s Jayden?”

“He will meet us there. It would be improper for him to accompany us.”

That’s right. He’d told her that when they were talking about social etiquette. People were strict in this era. “Tell me more about what I should expect. I’m a little nervous.”

“Every person has their place, and various levels of wealth stay within their own class. This ball allows members of the aristocratic community from far and wide to come together and socialize. They make introductions, form new connections, and sometimes, scout out eligible young ladies for their unwed sons.”

Zanya imagined every man in the room, probing with his eyes, searching and scrutinizing each woman for her appeal, or lack thereof. “At the ball, are you planning on introducing me to anyone?”

“I plan to introduce you to Jayden. This will be our tactic to scout for Sarian without drawing attention.”

“Oh, good.”

“But if a young man inquires about you, it would be rude to turn him away.”

It took nearly an hour to arrive at the hotel, which was bustling with activity. Doormen assisted the guests out of their carriages. The horses snorted and threw their heads, their bits and bridles tugged on by the coachmen. Ladies chatted and fluffed each other’s dresses, cooing over the latest fashions. Gentlemen lit their cigars while they stood in groups, viewing the ladies as they arrived.

Renato escorted Zanya through the Grosvenor’s doors. The lobby glistened with polished floors and high ceilings, embellished with white columns with gold trim. Everyone stood in line, speaking just above a whisper.

The line moved forward. Each party handed their invitation to the doorman. He took it and nodded before the next couple offered theirs. Only those holding a golden inscribed card were granted access beyond the mahogany booth.

The golden ticket.

Zanya nudged her uncle and pointed to a flag that hung in the lobby. It displayed a family crest, matching what Marzena had taken from Tara’s memory.

Renato handed the doorman their pass. The herald stood in waiting when they entered the ballroom. Renato spoke softly, and the herald cleared his throat before turning to the growing crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Sir Felipe, Duke of Toledo, and his lovely niece, Miss Camilla.”

Renato smiled, and in just a few more steps, they meshed with the crowd. “Here we go.”