Free Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) by Theresa Dalayne Page B

“You see how little regard he has for the souls of the underworld. Many despise him, though none more than I.” She dropped her hand back to her side, and her focus moved to the Sarian’s corpse. She dug in his coat pocket and pulled out Zanya’s stone. Zanya gasped and snatched it from Contessa’s grasp, then hugged it to her chest.
    Contessa stood, staring down at her. “I have no use for your little stone, child. When I approached him with your lock of hair, he was all too eager to agree to the trade. Your hair and a spell to finalize his control over the stone, in exchange for the Popol Vuh.”
    Zanya clenched her jaw. Of course Contessa would use Zanya’s hair against her. But if Contessa lied to her once, then she could have lied about anything. “What about Jayden’s spirit?”
    Contessa cupped Zanya’s chin delicately with her fingers. Zanya wanted to slap her hand away, but figured it better not to. “I knew who that foolish boy was as soon as I laid eyes on him, and I anticipated him following you here.”
    “Jayden didn’t follow me. I followed him, in case you already forgot.”
    “I am not speaking of your fallen friend. I speak of the other—the dark one. I had no doubt he would exact revenge, which is no fault of mine, of course. The king can’t possibly hold me responsible for the death of his general by—” She paused in consideration. “Well, the rest isn’t important for now.” She stood and pivoted away.
    “Wait.” Zanya reached out for her, and her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed, trying to block out the pain. “Are you talking about Arwan? The one with dark hair?” She hadn’t seen him since they’d been submerged in the portal, and the reality of what may have happened to him nearly broke her. “He could be dead.”
    “You may have thanked me if that were the case.” Contessa picked the book up off the ground and trotted down the hundreds of narrow steps.
    The roots above them writhed as Contessa continued down the temple toward the miles of blood-soaked ground. If Zanya stayed where she was, she’d die. Well, maybe not. But not dying here was worse than dying in the middleworld. She’d have to make nicey-nice with Contessa before she vanished—along with any chance of returning home.
    Zanya ground her teeth and pushed to her feet, snatched up the loose pages from the book, and folded them in her pocket. She wobbled down the steps as fast as she could without losing her balance. It didn’t help that every movement hurt like hell. “Wait.” The temptress didn’t stop walking. “Contessa, please. You didn’t answer my question about Jayden. Where is he? Did you lie about Houn?”
    The witch didn’t reply.
    “You said you were in my debt, remember?” If Arwan were in the underworld, he would have found her by now. If he was still in the caves, she had to find him. “I just want Jayden’s soul, and I want to go home.” Desperation cracked her voice.
    Contessa paused on the final step of the temple. “Is that so?”
    Panting, Zanya nodded. “Please.” She swallowed. “Just help me get Jayden back and send me to the middleworld. I won’t ask you for anything else.”
    Contessa turned to face her, one side of her mouth curling into a grin. “Very well. I will get his soul from Houn and have it returned to his body.”
    Zanya couldn’t allow herself to feel any relief. She didn’t trust Contessa. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a choice.
    Contessa gestured behind Zanya. “I believe you two have met.”
    Zanya turned to see the bearer of souls gliding over the first layer of the underworld, which was now eerily silent.
    “He happens to owe me a favor. A few, in fact. And considering it’s been some time since I’ve indulged, this is the perfect opportunity to call on such a favor.” She locked her sights on Houn, and her bright green eyes grew black like onyx. The monster lurking just under her skin—the same glimpse of her ugly,