Dark Storm (Dark #23)(13)
Author: Christine Feehan

Concerned, Dax sent his senses out, searching for that frisson of awareness that alerted him to the presence of another Carpathian. He’d been able to use that awareness over the years to track the progress of Arabejila and her descendents when they came to the mountain. His senses soared out, passing through rock, soil, into the sky above the volcano, then across the dense, tropical jungle.

After several long minutes of searching, he found her. Arabejila’s descendent. She was approaching the mountain as she had once every five years for the last who-only-knew how many centuries, but she was still hours away. She was not going to get here in time. The woman was too far out and Mitro had grown too strong.

Dax had been considered the greatest hunter of the entire Carpathian race, yet still, fight after fight, Mitro had eluded him. Being locked in the earth for so long without blood to sustain them should have weakened them both, possibly even killed them. But just like Dax, Mitro had found a way to survive and grow stronger. The intense pressure, heat and harsh environment of the volcano had changed them both. If Mitro escaped now, there would be nothing, no one strong enough to stop him.

Dax couldn’t let him escape.

The whispers grew stronger, demanding, incessant. For months now, even as he slept, the voices had whispered in his ears, a never-ending chorus. Urging him to visit the cavern near the heart of the volcano. The heat and pressure there was intense, so close to the volcano’s main magma chamber that Dax had never been able to stay more than a few seconds at a time. But something was there. Something powerful and fierce. Something that normally did not like to be disturbed.

Something the earth believed Dax needed, because it had been driving him back to that chamber again and again and again over the centuries.

The push was stronger now than it had ever been. Every part of him felt both driven and pulled toward that chamber deep in the heart of the volcano. What lay there was waiting for him, and he could delay no longer. The strength he needed was there, offered up to him if only he had the will to claim it.

He dispatched the wards surrounding his resting place and shifted into a clear mist, traveling swiftly through the lava tubes and fissures in the rock, descending deep into the earth until he reached the superheated chamber. A small section of the floor on the far side of the chamber had cracked, and molten rock from the adjacent magma chamber was spilling into the room, thick and glowing orange. The pool was rising rapidly. It wouldn’t be long before the entire chamber was completely filled.

In the center of the room, its hindquarters half submerged in the deepening magma, lay the petrified remains of a dragon. Immense and breathtaking, the creature lay curled tightly, wings tucked against his back, tail curled around his body, head resting on diamond-clawed forepaws. The entire dragon had crystallized, its body turning to ruby and diamond in the intense heat and pressure of the volcano. The dragon’s chest was destroyed, crushed. Huge chunks of faceted crystal spilled around the petrified carcass.

The heat rising from the magma made the air around the dragon ripple, distorting Dax’s vision until the entire crystallized carcass seemed to tremble and move.

Take it. Take what remains. Take what is offered.

The whispers filled Dax’s head, making him dizzy. Before him, the heat waves rising from the magma pool seemed to shimmer and take on a translucent fire-red hue, but the shimmer was … dragon-shaped?

Dax shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. The image was still there … hazy, translucent, a dragon formed of insubstantial red mist. He stretched out his senses, but could detect no concentrated stench of evil.

The Old One offers you his strength. You were not ready before, but we have made you so. Take what is offered. Without it, you cannot defeat your enemy. Take it. Quickly, before it is lost to the volcano. The earth continued to whisper to him, pushing at him to take a chance that could result in his death.

Dax moved closer. The heat from the magma was so intense, he half expected to burst into flame at any moment, yet his burnished skin didn’t even blister. Another step brought him close to the dragon’s head and a mere five feet from the widening magma pool. Now, he could sense the power radiating from the crystallized dragon. Where had it come from? He’d been here in this chamber before. He’d found the crystallized dragon, half-crushed but still an awesome discovery, but he’d never sensed this pulsating energy. It almost felt alive.

Stepping closer still, Dax reached for the shimmering veil of energy. The instant he touched it, a raw, savage wildness roared in response. Power slammed into him like an iron fist, plowing into him with enough force to knock him off his feet. He landed hard and pain streaked across his back and jaw, which had taken the brunt of the strike.

Take the power. Take what is offered.

"That was an offer?" Dax got up, dusted himself off and rubbed his aching jaw. "No offense, dear friend, but whatever that is clearly doesn’t want to be taken."

Without the Old One’s strength, you cannot win. You must take it. But first, you must prove yourself worthy.

"Wonderful." Dax moved his head, stretching the tendons and cracking the joints in his neck. He regarded the translucent image of the dragon shimmering in the hot air. "So be it, Old One. Let us roll the bones."

This time, as he approached the crystallized dragon carcass and the veil of energy hovering above it, he braced himself for attack. The blow, when it came, struck twice as hard as before. Power tore into him with diamond-hard claws. The sheer intensity of it threatened to rip him to pieces, but he set his jaw and leaned into it, firing back a blast of his own, meeting power with power, force with force. The shimmering dragon roared and flexed its wings.

And the fight was on.

Waves of energy swirled around the room. A powerful force built underneath and around him. The walls of the chamber began to tremble. Tiny particles of rock and sand fell from the ceiling. Dax thrust calming waves into the ground, stilling the rupturing earth.

The flow of magma into the chamber increased, forcing Dax to step back. Gases bubbled and spat in the magma pool. The heat increased. The air sparked. The gases caught fire in a flash of boiling orange flame. Dax closed his eyes and flung up a shield. Heat poured over him like an ocean wave.

A voice that sounded like thunder growled and rumbled in his brain. Only the strongest may hope to hold a dragon’s soul. How strong are you, Danutdaxton of the Carpathians? The dragon spoke in his ancient language, Carpathian, allowing Dax to understand him.

Each word boomed and burned inside his mind as if a hammer made of flaming lead were pounding against his skull. Dax fought the urge to cover his ears, knowing it was useless.