Free The Heartstone by Lisa Finnegan Page B

herself not to gag as she swallowed. Things grew fuzzy. Cerynus helped her down to the woven mat he’d provided. She sat abruptly. Cerynus looked deep in her eyes placed his hand on her head in a final benediction and left.
    Alone in the moon washed woods she looked around wondering. Cerynus had said only it was up to her. He had also said she had to be naked under the moon for the ritual to work. She was glad he’d gone. Taking a deep breath she let the white cloth puddle around her feet. She stood naked except for the Heartstone. Her arms rose to cover her breasts. But some instinct stopped her and they fell back to her sides. She shivered, exposed, defenseless.
    The shadows deepened, more menacing every second. The Heartstone, it was drawing the shadows, she had to get rid of it, now. The desire to rid herself of the stone swept over her. She shook her head clearing it for a second. Cerynus had said to hold onto the Stone. The shadows were trying to trick her. She looked at the Stone concentrating.
    Memories flashed through her. But they weren’t her memories. She was her mother, three or four years old. She was dancing in a sunlit meadow and suddenly she was able to weave the sunlight, making patterns in the summer sun. She was part of the sunlight and as she danced thousands of blue and yellow butterflies flew around her until they spiraled up into the cloudless sky.
    Something woke her. She turned with a smile to her man, Aran. His golden brown hair tickled her nose. He slept his back to her. She cuddled close for a moment. Clink, the smallest sound, she tensed. Something was wrong. She slipped into her robes checked on the sleeping baby and went outside. There was a crack of thunder and even as she watched lightning hit the tower. She ran forward heedless of the rain. A great wind whipped around her and the earth shook under her feet. Someone was trying to steal the Heartstone. She ran to the tower. A sword slashed at her and she fell, her lifeless eyes filled with horror and the rain beating down on her pale face.
    No! Her mother had lived to save the stone, for her. Gritting her teeth she opened her eyes and looked at it. The shadows wouldn’t trick her. She was the Stonebearer. The Stone glowed blue and the hot honeysweet current engulfed her.
    She was mindless, whirling, in a maelstrom. She needed to focus the energy, to control it or be sucked dry. Left only with a drooling stare blinded by that seductive force. She wrestled with the Stone, visualizing it as a reservoir holding the power, forcing it back, leaving only vestiges within reach, a small conduit between them.
    Strength filled her. She flew among the birds, fled on scampering paws, panted hungry for hot blood. She was the river rushing to the ocean. She was the wind sweeping through the mountains. She was the sun bathing the world in heat. She became aware of darkness; starting as a small itch it became a persistent blight on the land. Gray smoke rose from burned land where no life grew. She fought against it a fresh wind whipped the smoke away and shoots pushed through the ashy soil.
    Brick buildings soot blackened gas lamps pushing back the soggy dark of early morning. The leaden sky drizzled on a slight black haired figure rushing down the cobblestones. Ariana couldn’t see his face. Around them loomed dark mountains stripped for their coal. In the distance the rattle of wheels on cobblestones made the boy stop for a moment. There was a flash of light; she could almost hear the scream. She strained to see his face.
    The sharp noise of a howling wolf and screeching eagle intruded on the vision. She heard rustlings in the surrounding woods. Creatures stepped forth and assembled on the verge of the glade. Small mice and chipmunks sat up on their haunches, birds perched on branches, rabbits stood, ears twitching in the morning breeze. Behind them stood deer poised within thickets.
    Opposite them the shadowy gray shapes of the wolf pack flickered in