Gryphon and His Thief Page 15

  "What's it doing?" she shouted. Each pulse of the stone increased the momentum of the wind, and dust blew from the desert floor, making it difficult to breathe.

  "I don't know," he shouted back as the stone burst with energy like a bolt of lightning streaking across the sky.

  An area large and oval took shape a few feet in front of them. It rippled like water, the effect similar to skipping rocks across a lake. When it smoothed, they could see another world, though the parking lot remained all around it on either side. It was like looking through a portal on a ship, but much larger, generous enough for Darrien to step through without hunching down.

  In the other world, blue, purple, and gold colored the sky as if the sun had just set and all the colors bled into the horizon where the land met the sky. A river dark and foreboding reached the portal's edge, but didn't flow over to their world. Instead, the water teased by rising and falling as it attempted to cross, but a barrier of some sort held it at bay.

  "The veil between the worlds has been revealed to us," Darrien said, his voice thick with emotion.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Darrien glanced at the stone glowing, pulsing with energy, and knew it had somehow triggered the doorway to the Otherworld to reveal itself. The veil was at its thinnest on Halloween, the day the humans celebrated with parties and costumes. They'd forgotten that tonight they could communicate with the dead.

  Hecate's Stone amplified where the boundaries rested, making the Otherworld visible to anyone who might happen by, be they mortal or not. They didn't have to believe to see it. The portal stood, both beautiful and frightening for all to view.

  He turned to Calli and shouted over the roaring wind to be heard. "There was blood on the stone when I found it on the desk in the museum. Whose was it?" he asked, but he had a hunch he already knew.

  She shouted back, her words coming to him as if she stood on a precipice high above him, her voice strained and faraway. "It has to be your blood… from your human side. I gave the stone to you for safekeeping, but one of Isa's men shot you."

  "My alter ego left me such a message on your mobile," he grumbled and rubbed his chest, though the bullet wound had healed completely now.

  "He did?" she asked, appearing surprised, and he realized she would be. She'd already been kidnapped and hadn't known his other half's outcome.

  He nodded. "An interesting conversation, I must say. It is how I knew you were in trouble." He glanced at the portal where the river appeared dark and foreboding. He could see movement beneath the surface— arms outstretched and faces contorted as if in pain. The souls of the lost, he imagined with a shudder.

  "You can command the dead, can't you?" she asked him, and she too stared at the portal with meaning. "You can control what's happening right now. It's your blood that activated the doorway to open. You can request an audience with Spiro. He can't still hold a grudge against you. It's been centuries."

  The last memory of Spiro had been when he'd been chained in the cellar and awaited his sentencing. Spiro tortured him further with his plans to kill his tribe, and even promised not to spare the children. No amount of begging could convince Spiro to go after the one responsible. Isa had acted alone, but by then Spiro's grief had festered into hatred, and there was no reasoning with the man.

  It wasn't until decades later, and by a mere chance, he learned what had happened once Spiro gave the order to annihilate his tribe. A thief had entered the museum when it still had been stationed in Greece. The man knew of the Gryphon tribe which once lived on the isle of Andros, and that the tribe no longer existed. He'd been devastated by the news, and yet he had not been surprised. He had sensed the tribe no longer existed, felt it in his heart, but now the thief had confirmed it. For the valuable information, he allowed the thief to walk away unharmed.

  Spiro had cursed him and had gone after his tribe without mercy. The man's hatred ran deep, and he could not be sure it didn't follow him into the afterlife.

  Calli placed a hand on his arm. "You must try," she said as if sensing his lack of confidence.

  He brushed a tendril of hair away from her face, but it fell over one eye again as if the wind would not allow the gesture.

  She was right. He had to at least make an attempt to reason with Spiro, and if he would not hear his plea, or if the price proved too high, he would close the veil and so be it.

  Conjuring and opening a portal always came with a price. Before leaving the museum tonight, he pocketed a few ancient coins from the bottom drawer of the desk as his daytime self suggested he do in his video. The ferryman would demand payment for carting a soul back and forth. His hand slipped into his front pocket of his jeans and fingered the etched coins for reassurance he still had them. He hoped the coins would suffice.

  He turned to tell Calli of his plans, but he caught sight of a shadow overhead, fast and true as it darted across the heavens. Isa had found them.

  She landed with grace and shifted to her human form as soon as her paws hit the ground. Her gaze wasn't focused on them, but transfixed on the portal between the worlds. Since her arrival, the river of souls beckoned and keened, somehow louder and more desperate to be heard.

  "What are you waiting for?" Isa turned to peer at him. "Summon Spiro and request he reverse the curse," she ordered. "You hold the power in your hands, Darrien. The ferryman must obey you." Isa's eyes were golden in color and more bird-like, and her hands had shifted to talons as if her human side proved difficult to hold.

  Gryphons lived long lives, but they were not immortal. Yet Isa had lived centuries longer than any Gryphon in the history of his tribe. Of course, he was excluded. The curse was to blame for his long existence. "How do you still live, Isa?" he asked with a tilt of his head. Confusion lit her features before she realized why he would ask such a question.

  Her talons retracted and her slender hands appeared as she smoothed back her hair in a desperate attempt to keep it out of her eyes, but the wind fought her attempts. "There are ways. Magic can be bought and so can immortality."

  "And did these individuals you brokered a deal with live to tell the tale?" He knew what happened to the wizard who once owned a certain ring on her finger.

  Isa pursed her lips and her silence gave him the answer. She stole, most likely murdered, and took what she wanted. She didn't look back or feel remorse. "I did it for you," she said as if she read his mind and knew he judged her for the immoral acts she'd committed.

  His brows rose, not because he was surprised at her admission, but because he could not believe she had the audacity to claim she did her evil deeds in his name. Isa's obsession for him ruled her thoughts and actions, and in the process she'd forgotten what it meant to truly love someone. Her heart had hardened as if it were made of stone.

  "Summoning Charon comes with a price, Isa," he said. Charon ferried the souls to the underworld and he would not like to be ordered around. Of this, he was certain.

  Isa glanced at Calli briefly with a nod. "She is pure of heart. She will not suffer. Save yourself, Darrien. It's your only chance to be free. Take it. Offer her to Charon as payment. He will gladly take a good soul."

  Before he could comment, the sounds of tires screeching as they skidded to a halt could be heard over the howling wind. Isa's men had arrived by car. No doubt, they'd seen the light Hecate's Stone had produced.

  He dare not take his eyes off Isa as the doors of the car slammed shut. The unmistakable crunching of boots on gravel reached his ears next, indicating they were running toward them.

  Isa kept her eyes on him also, but she held up her hand in a wave of warning for her men to stand down. "Well? What are you going to do?" she asked.

  He wanted to laugh at her. Truly, she didn't believe he'd sacrifice Calli for his freedom, but Isa's eyes brightened with triumph. She thought he would do it. After all, it would be what she would do. What she had planned to do, if the stone rested in her palm.

  Darrien shook his head sadly and turned away from Isa.
His gaze found Calli, who stood straight and proud. No fear marred her expression, and for a split second, he saw his Callista's eyes gazing back at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked. Calli stood there once more.

  He mouthed, Trust me, and hoped she would. She gave him a slight nod of understanding. He turned away from her then and stepped forward with the stone gripped in his hand as he held it in front of him. "I call upon Charon to deliver the soul of Spiro to the doors between worlds. I have the stone with the power of the goddess Hecate, her essence is in the palm of my hand, and my blood summons thee."

  When nothing happened, he tried again, using ancient words spoken first in Greek then in Latin. "Ego sum te peto et videre queto." He'd chant the summons in every language until it worked. "I seek you and demand to see you." The howling wind increased around them, but the weather beyond the doorway remained tranquil. Then in the distance, he spotted a long boat made of fine wood and etched with symbols. Possibly wards to keep the newly dead from escaping once they stepped into the boat… Or perhaps, they were to prevent the damned in the river from capsizing the craft. Whichever the case, the symbols glowed with magic.

  Two figures stood inside the boat, one holding a pole and guiding it toward the portal's entrance, and the other stood with his hands clasped as if in prayer.

  "It is Charon," Isa breathed and her lips curved. "He brings Spiro with him. Do you not see, Darrien?"

  Darrien could understand her reverence toward Charon. One did not have an audience with the ferryman unless he came to ferry your soul to the underworld. His gaze shifted to Spiro. He was garbed in dark robes that were tattered and worn in places, nothing like he would have donned in life. Darrien couldn't help but wonder if the clothing depicted his placement in the underworld. Not favored, he would imagine.

  Charon frowned, his lips thin as they pursed together, indicating his displeasure at being summoned, and more so when he realized Darrien held a stone with powers meant for a necromancer. Obviously, the ferryman didn't look kindly on death charmers. They would make his life difficult if they summoned the dead back to the living— even if it were for only a few minutes. It would make Charon's job that much more troublesome.

  Once the boat reached the door's edge, Charon tethered the boat to a pillar to keep the craft in place for this impromptu meeting. "Who summons the soul of Spiro?" Charon asked. The burdens of his duties of centuries past were deeply etched into his weathered skin. His robes of gray swirled around him in the gentle wind on his side of the realm, teasing both his hair and long beard. He may ask who summoned him, but the request proved a formality, since his gaze bore into Darrien.

  "I do, ferryman." He bowed in respect to the ancient being.

  "Step forward then, but do not cross the threshold, Darrien of the Gryphon tribe of Andros," he warned. "Your soul teeters between life and death and I cannot guarantee the souls of the underworld will not claim you as one of their own out of spite."

  He stared at the river where the wrathful were punished, being drowned in the muddy waters for all eternity. Their skin was drained of color, gray and lifeless, but they withered and moaned as they fought among themselves. He shivered at the thought of joining their fate.

  He turned to Calli. Her green eyes were huge with fatigue, and he realized how this night had taken its toll on her. Yet, her strength washed over to him and he offered her his hand. He wanted her at his side and away from Isa. Calli's hand felt so small and delicate in his. He raised her hand to his lips and he brushed a kiss across her knuckles before they both took a few cautious steps closer to the portal, making sure to keep their feet planted in the realm of the living.

  Standing this close to the doorway, the wind ceased to plague them, as if they'd stepped into the eye of the storm, where the world appeared calm, but their presence seemed to aggravate the souls and their filmy, bluish-colored eyes glazed with death, followed their every move. Their moans and outstretched hands a plea for help. Only there was no comfort for the damned.

  A movement in his peripheral vision told him Isa had joined them, but he kept his eyes focused on Spiro. The man's gaze blazed a trail from Darrien's face to his snakeskin boots then back up again, and his contempt blasted through, despite the threshold separating them. It appeared even in death his hatred hadn't lessened, but had thrived.

  "If you wish to speak to me about the curse, you waste your time, Darrien," Spiro said. "I have no wish to speak to you. When Hecate confronted me, I chose death over releasing your soul. I suffer for my sins, but I rejoice that you have suffered more."

  Darrien didn't blame Spiro for lashing out at him. The man had trusted him with his beloved daughter, a treasure he could never replace, and Darrien felt the loss just as deeply. He blamed himself for her death as much as Isa was at fault. He should have recognized Isa's jealousy and stopped her, but he'd been so in love he missed the warning signs. "I have accepted my fate gladly, Spiro," he told him and meant it.

  Calli's presence gave him strength to face Spiro, but he had to do this next part alone. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before he let her go. He then chanced another step closer to the portal.

  His admission and acceptance of the punishment Spiro dealt him seemed to surprise the man, and he lost some of his haughtiness. He pursed his lips as if he fought to remain steadfast in his oath not to hear him out, but in the end his curiosity prompted him to change his mind. "Go on then," Spiro demanded. "Say what you must so I may return to the land of the dead." He folded his arms across his chest.

  "To the point, then. I bring to you the one responsible for Callista's death," Darrien announced.

  "What are you doing?" Isa's gaze riveted to him and her voice hitched in alarm. She took a step back as if to flee, but he was quicker and grabbed her upper arm. "Unhand me." She struggled to be free, but he would not allow her to escape. When her thugs moved forward to help, he warned them away with a quick look, his eyes blazing like fire. "Come closer and you'll suffer her fate as well."

  Bert glanced at the door to the underworld with the black river and the souls crying out for help, and he made the decision for himself and his comrades. "Let's go. We didn't sign up for this." They backed away, before turning on their heels at a full run to put as much distance between them and the archway as possible.

  "Come back, you fools," Isa called after them, but a second later, he heard the slam of car doors and the screeching of tires. Her men had abandoned her. So much for loyalty.

  Spiro's nostrils flared as he leveled his gaze on Isa. "How did you avoid my wrath?" he asked her. "You murdered my daughter and I sent my hoplites armed with weapons. They were to destroy all your kind? How is it you still stand in the land of the living?"

  "You wronged my tribe and me as well." Isa's eyes glowed gold as she tried to shift, but couldn't seem to complete the act. Perhaps being too close to the doorway between worlds prevented her. Darrien suspected as much. He could feel the beast inside of him, stirring, but lethargic as if drugged. The portal required energy and it interfered with the magic of a shifter's change.

  Isa tried again to break free from his hold, but he wouldn't allow her to escape. He increased his grip on her. She winced and threw him a lethal glare filled with bitterness.

  "You will face Spiro," he told her. "No more running." All at once, she stopped struggling, but he didn't trust how easily she stilled her attempts to flee.

  She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes on Spiro. "Callista always hated me. It is no wonder her spirit claimed I was the one at fault," she said with a hard cold voice, but her next words were spoken as if the memory proved too painful to recall. "That day…I came calling, only to speak to Darrien, but he was not at home. Callista invited me in with the pretense that she wanted us to be friends, but in truth she accused me of trying to steal Darrien away. It simply was not true." She paused for a theatrical affect before continuing her tale. "We had words and truly I tried to leave, but she would not allow it. She came after me w
ith a dagger." She took a ragged breath and closed her eyes.

  Darrien lifted his brows in astonishment when a single tear slid down her cheek.

  "Her death was but an accident," she murmured. Her tear filled eyes opened and she brushed her hand over her face. "I had to defend myself." She sniffled and her hand fell to her chest, right where her heart lay beneath. Indeed, she did look contrite over the tragic event.

  "O.M.G!" Calli said, drawing everyone's attention. "You aren't going to believe that load of crap?" She pointed to Isa. "She's about as innocent as a…a…fox in a chicken coop."

  "Silence." Charon's voice boomed. "Do not speak out of turn."

  "Truly, we should listen to her," Darrien said. "She is Callista reincarnated."

  Spiro shifted his weight in the boat, taking steps closer and nearly capsizing them, but Charon was quick with his pole and steadied the craft. "Do not move, Spiro. Do you wish to tumble us into the river? Rest assured, only one of us will survive such a dunking," he said the last with meaning.

  Spiro stilled his movements, but his eyes did not leave Calli. "It is you, my daughter." From his side of the portal, he would be able to see her soul as clearly as if she wore it upon her sleeve.

  "It does not matter," Charon said. "A reincarnated soul does not recall his or her past life with accuracy. The soul is reborn to have a fresh start, to live and love again. A past life would only alter the destiny." He pinned his gaze on Calli. "Am I correct? Do you remember the altercation with Isa?"

  "Uh…no, but—"

  Charon held up his hand to halt her words. "Say no more."