Birthright (The Stone Legacy Series Book 5) (25 page)

Chapter Forty-One

Arwan

Arwan clung to his glaive with strands of blood-soaked hair sticking to his cheeks and neck.

He turned to see Zanya, obviously struggling to fight through her fatigue.

More underworlders and hellhounds poured from the hole in the earth.

He’d gone back. Not far. Just an hour or so—just long enough to make things right.

The enemy closed in around them.

Bodies of the fallen villagers were being consumed by Yaxche. Vines and roots coiled around their bodies, dragging them under until they were nothing more than a bloodstain.

Hawa screamed and stumbled back when a hound leapt on top of her.

Arwan parted his lips. Hawa. She was still alive.

He sprinted toward her and killed the beast before it could tear into her gut.

He spun and pointed to the second one charging Jayden. “To your right!”

His warning caught Eadith’s attention, and she threw a fireball at the hound before it plowed into the seeker.

He turned to Zanya, who was now on her knees, too weak to fight.

Hawa sprinted in front of Arwan and kicked an underworlder back. “Hey, snap out of it!”

Arwan blinked and looked at Hawa.

“We have to retreat,” she said. “Get the others out of the house and let’s get out of here, or we’ll all die!”

He waited, shifting his weight. Zanya would petrify everything in just a few seconds…she had to…

“Come on!” Hawa yanked his arm. “Now!”

What had he done?

By going back and saving Hawa, Zanya no longer had the motivation she needed to petrify the army. She would simply succumb to her fatigue and they would all fall victim to the underworld attack.

Unless he gave her a reason…

First, he turned to the battlefield and waved Beigarth back. The Viking nodded and sliced through several enemies to carve his path back to the safety of the already petrified ground.

Arwan ran to Zanya’s side. Her face was drained of color and her eyes were glossed with exhaustion. He grabbed her and shook her, jolting her back to awareness. “You have to listen to me.” He cupped her cheek. “Zanya, I need you to be strong right now. We all need you.”

She mumbled and grabbed his hand, swaying from side to side. “I can’t…”

“You have to.” He looked behind him at the others, who were still fighting their way back. “We are all going to die without your help.”

She swallowed, shaking her head. “I’m too weak.”

“If you don’t help us…” His stomach went queasy. What he was about to do was wrong on more than one level, but he had no other choice. “If you don’t, you’ll lose the baby. You’ll lose me. Everyone will die. I’ve seen it.” He pulled her closer. “I came back.”

Her eyes widened. “
Back
?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen it, and you’ll lose everything. Everyone.”

Zanya pulled away, horror streaking her features.

But it wasn’t enough.

“You’ll bleed out, right here on the stone floor.”

Zanya cupped her hand over her mouth.

“And the king will cut my heart out in front of you.”

Her hands shook.

“Then the tree will consume the house with everyone inside.”

Zanya clenched her stomach and scooted back, the fear too raw and harsh for her to react.

He searched for a way to push her over the edge. He would have to be savage. Cruel, even. It tore into him, but it was the only way.

He glared down at her. “I should have known you’d fail.” He fisted his hands. “I should have known you’d ruin your chance at being the guardian. At being…” The foul taste of his words coated his tongue. “At being a mother.”

Zanya froze, and her eyes narrowed. “I am
not
a failure.”

“You’ve given up. But not just on us. On her!” He pointed at her stomach. “Just like your mother gave up on—” A bolt of energy crashed into his chest, knocking him back into the defending group of Riyata.

He stood upright and looked at Zanya, whose skin pulsed with electricity.

“I will never give up on her!” Zanya screamed and punched the ground, sending a wave of petrification over the land. It crawled over the jungle and froze every underworlder in sight—this time missing Beigarth.

When it was over, Arwan scanned the silent battlefield.

Zanya clenched her belly and contorted in pain. “Something’s wrong!”

Peter ran to her side. His face drained of color. “The baby.”

Zanya stared up at Arwan, her lips shaky and parted. “You said I would lose the baby if I didn’t stop them. What have you done?”

He had lied to her, and forced her to do the impossible. To make the decision between one life, or the life of all humanity. There was no other way.

Peter and Hawa hauled Zanya to her feet. Zanya clenched her legs and buckled over, groaning under the ultimate loss. “My daughter. Something’s wrong. Something—” She choked on a sob.

“Is she…?” Jayden approached from behind. “Is she going to be okay?”

Arwan turned to the seeker. It was a relief to know he wouldn’t lose Hawa. He needed her—that much was clear. But now, Arwan would ask them all to go inside the house so he could finish what had been started with the king. “I don’t know. But you have to watch over her. Will you do that?”

Eleuia approached and stood behind the seeker, underworld blood streaked across her cheek. “Of course we will.” She pushed hair out of her face. “We’ll do everything we can.”

“Go inside, and don’t come out—no matter what.”

As Arwan walked past them, Eleuia caught his arm. “What are you going to do?”

“Like you said.” Arwan stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. “I’m going to beast it up.”

***

Zanya

Pain streaked through her stomach and up her back, making her legs quiver. Hawa and Peter hauled her up the stairs and into her bedroom, where they laid her over the mattress. Tara was already in the room, throwing pillows off the bed to give her space to lie down.

Zanya screamed at a sharp spike of heat that tore her womb. She curled into a ball on the mattress. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Peter washed his hands in the bathroom, then ran back and sat beside her. “You should be healing. The baby must be taking too much of your energy. Let me see what I can do. But you have to lie flat for me so I can see your stomach. Can you do that?”

She nodded and forced herself to roll onto her back. “I swear I didn’t know this would happen. I had no idea—”

“Shhh.” Tara sat beside her and stroked her hair. “We know. This isn’t your fault.”

Peter slid his hand under the hem of her shirt. His brows turned down, and he felt around a bit more, pressing lightly in some spots, while simply pausing over others. “You’re bleeding…a lot. But…” He looked at Zanya. “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything to help you. I’m not an obstetrician and I don’t have any tools here. No ultrasound, and no way to check and see if the baby is okay. You’re too early for me to listen with a stethoscope.” He lifted his hands from her skin. “So…you have a choice to make.”

Zanya nodded, indicating she was listening.

“If I try to heal you, I’m pretty sure your body will do what any woman’s body would—choose your own health over the life of the baby. But if I don’t heal you, you’ll keep hemorrhaging, and if you lose too much blood…” He pursed his lips. “We could lose you both.”

She turned away, shielding her stomach from his touch. “I can’t do that.” She looked at Tara. “I thought I didn’t want this baby. But now I can’t stand the idea of losing her.” She pressed her hand over her mouth. “This is all my fault.” Tears flooded her eyes. “I told her I hated her. I said it. How could I be such a horrible person?” Sobs rolled out of her chest.

Tara wrapped her arms around her and cradled her close. “You and the baby are going to be fine.”

The room fell silent when Jayden walked in. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hey.” He nodded with a crooked grin. It was his familiar face that took the edge off. “Want some company?”

Zanya nodded and reached out to him.

His features sobered. He walked to the bed and laced his fingers between hers, kneeling beside the bed. He rubbed her hands, staring up at her with wide eyes and an expression of pure helplessness. “We’re all here for you.”

Zanya nodded. “Where’s Arwan? He should be here. He should—” Her breath was stolen with another jab to her gut. Heat crawled down her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut until the worst of it passed. “I can’t do this. I can’t lose her.”

“You’re not losing anyone. Drina is in the kitchen brewing you some herbal tea. She looks…” He chuckled and wiped a tear from her cheek. “She looks pretty pissed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she came up with some kind of crazy witchdoctor formula just for you.”

Zanya held Jayden’s hand. His skin was like ice, but it was still him, and that was all that mattered. “I need Arwan here. I can’t get through this without him.”

Jayden glanced at the others. “Um…” He swallowed and lowered his gaze to the floor.

Zanya forced herself to sit up as much as she could. “Jay…where’s Arwan?”

He finally met her gaze. “He’s got some unfinished business. He…” He exhaled and squeezed her hand. “Zanya, I don’t know if he’s coming back.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Arwan

Standing outside the house, Arwan stripped off his pants and tossed them aside. A shiver crawled over his skin while he stood in his shorts, cool jungle air drifting over his body. The entrance to the underworld was still sealed, though not for long. The king was on his way, and this time, Arwan was ready for him.

The ground trembled beneath his feet.

Arwan took that as his cue to unleash the beast.

The transformation took seconds, and the pain subsided quickly after.

Yaxche broke through like before, creating a portal for the king to ascend into the mortal realm. And as soon as he did, Arwan was reminded that although he had saved Hawa, Renato was out of his reach. His mentor was slaughtered in the underworld, while Arwan was drifting in and out of consciousness. In that realm, time was its own entity, and Arwan could do nothing to change the past.

This time he would make his mentor’s death count.

The king rose, wearing the same horrifying pelt. Arwan did his best to ignore it, and braced for the scene.

The king stretched out his arms, displaying the full shape of hanging, wet flesh draped over his body. “The sacrificed Riyata was a brilliant choice. His strength ran deep.”

This time, Arwan would not fall to his knees like he did before.

This time, he met the king as a beast.

The king chuckled and peeled off the fleshy remains, casting them to the ground.

As soon as he did, Arwan lurched forward.

The king reached for his whip but Arwan anticipated the move and beat him to it. Arwan was on top of him in an instant, and tore the weapon out of the king’s grasp.

The king glared. “It is a shame you will not live to take my throne.”

Before he could reach for his second weapon—the blade that had nearly killed him—Arwan plowed into him and pressed his massive paw on the king’s chest
and pressed
.

This time, the king’s heart would belong to
him
.

Arwan dug his claws into the king’s flesh, snapping ribs and tearing through his sternum.

The king flailed and lurched, but to no avail.

His heart was within sight, beating with black, putrid blood.

The blood of a damned soul.

Without hesitation Arwan reached inside with his claws and tore the still-beating heart from the king’s chest and cast it aside.

The king’s body fell limp and his eyes fogged over with a layer of white.

Yaxche’s roots reached from the soil and coiled around the heart.

The muscle beat once.

Twice.

It stalled, and beat one last time before Yaxche yanked it underground.

Arwan stepped back, circling the king’s lifeless remains.

After so many years and so much heartache, it was finally over.

“You did well, boy.”

Arwan froze and looked up at Drina, who was hobbling toward him.

Still in his beastly form, he was unsure how to react. Drina had only seen him like this a handful of times. She didn’t appear scared. Her features were soft as her gaze cast lightly over him.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Drina loved and accepted him for who he was. She always had, and would, no matter what.

“You have done well, boy.” Drina walked forward, her stride now smoother than usual. His keen hearing caught the sound of a bird in flight. But not just a bird—an owl. He peered up at the sky as Ishel—the middle world goddess of plants and flowers—soared overhead.

“Do not be bitter, my boy. I asked her to stay away from the fight.”

My boy?

Arwan tilted his head, listening, watching, and waiting. There was something different about Drina. Her tone was more even, and she had less of an accent.

“This was
your
fight,” she continued, “and
your
destiny to fulfill.” Drina stood up straighter, no longer hunched like an old Mayan priestess. “And I am very, very proud of the man you have become, my son.”

Her appearance morphed and wavered. Glimpses of his mother’s features came in and out of focus like a mirage.

Ishel swooped down from the sky, changing into her human form just as her feet landed softly on the ground. The middleworld goddess stood back, her head bowed.

Drina’s form continued to alter until a glowing being stood before him.

His mother, the Star.

Her big brown eyes mirrored his own, and her illuminated skin made the moon seem dim in comparison. Arwan whined and lay on the ground. She should not have seen him in this form—his true self.

“Do not be ashamed.” Her silken gown draped over her shoulders in the most elegant way. She reached out and rested her hand on his head, burying her fingers into his fur. “You are perfect.” She glided her hand down his cheek. “I only wish you had known it was me all along.” He picked up his head so he met her gaze. Rolling galaxies existed in irises of her eyes. “I could not part with you, even after my mortal body was dead and gone. My soul is bound tightly to yours, and I gave you my love the only way you could accept it—through the illusion of Drina.” Her laugh was like music. “Such a crass, angry woman you needed to love you. But a mother knows her son, and I knew you would not allow anyone else close while your heart was still hurting. Yet you needed guidance.”

It all made sense now.

Drina’s agelessness was not due to her Mayan magic.

She had been a mere presentation—a mask worn by his mother, so she could raise him in a world he believed had betrayed him long ago.

His memory whipped back to the campfire in previous months, when Drina allowed a glimpse of his mother to show through her. The priestess had claimed she was in communication with his mother’s spirit, but in reality, his mother had merely lifted the mask for a fleeting moment to give him hope.

All this time…

“Do not be angry with me. I only did what would save the mortals from the underworld king and his wicked realm. Without you, the middleworld would have surely fallen. You were the only hope of mankind. You, who was born as the prince of both heaven and hell.”

Arwan forced himself to morph back to his human form. Ishel waited with her feathered robe to cloak him, while her long, flowing hair shielded the most intimate curves of her body.

He could not stay a beast while his mother stood before him for the first time.

She raked her fingers through his hair and knelt in front of him.

He tried to lift his gaze to meet hers, but now in his human form, he was somehow more vulnerable, and dwarfed beside her majesty

She hooked her finger under his chin and lifted his gaze. “Worry not.” Her lips curved into a soft smile. “I will keep your mentor close. Through his sacrifice, he has earned his seat at my table.” She placed a kiss on Arwan’s forehead. “And in my heart.”

“Mother…” The word came out in a croaked whisper. He wove his fingers between hers. “Don’t leave. I can’t be alone again.”

“Do you not see?” She leaned forward and held him close. He breathed in the essence of her being—the bright, clean scent of her hair and the comfort only a mother’s touch could provide. “You have never been alone. The guardian is your future. However…” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. A streak of sadness lingered in her gaze. “I fear you will not have the daughter you so desperately tried to protect.”

He choked on tears, but managed to hold them back. He had failed at being the man Zanya needed, and the father his unborn child would never know.

“Great things are destined for you, my son. Your bloodline is precious, and once inherited, will bind the heavens, middleworld, and underworld in an unbreakable chain to unite the realms. This is what I had intended with your conception, and why you are not only precious to me, but to all of mankind. The mortals do not know, my love. And as is their nature, they fear what they do not understand.”

Arwan nodded, hanging on every word. But it wasn’t enough. “I don’t know who I am…”

“You are, and always have been, my son.” She stood and gazed down at him. “You must embrace your new role as king and soul mate. It is not an easy task, but with the strength you have inherited from both myself and your father, you are able.”

“King?” He pushed to his feet, clinging to Ishel’s garment wrapped around him. “But…” He looked at the portal to the underworld. “I can’t. Zanya needs me. I need her…”

“Then you must order the tree to retreat into the underworld, and
never
return.”

He furrowed his brow as a realization hit him like a charging wave.

Now that his father was gone, he had inherited the role as ruler of the dark realm. Now that the king had perished, Arwan was the rightful heir.

He turned to the portal and tilted his head, staring at the tree’s roots lying still, as if awaiting instruction.

Arwan reached out and swiped his hand through the air, willing them to retract back into the soil. The tree obeyed, and recoiled into the pits of hell where it belonged.

He stood a moment, silent and still, and somewhat numb. What did this mean for his future? Now that he was king of the dark realm, how would be fulfill his obligation to his crown while staying true to his heart?

He turned back to see Ishel standing with Balam at her side.

Arwan scanned the area, but his mother was not there.

In his gut, he knew what it meant.

She was gone, forever.