Dark Storm (Dark #23)(51)
Author: Christine Feehan

Riley could almost see him smiling I will rise soon. I find I can withstand the sun even longer now than I could before. However, since I doubt Mitro has gone far, I need to conserve my strength.

All the more reason you should stop talking. I’m sure it takes energy to speak to me like this. She wasn’t at all sure she was right, but she remembered how completely drained she’d felt after she healed him.

Riley, I find that I only gain from speaking with you. As for strength, I find myself stronger than I have ever been before, but thank you for your concern.

Riley took a deep breath. You called me palafertiilam.

Yes. There was no hesitation. He exuded complete confidence.

She felt another surge of heat curling through her body like a wave. I asked Gary for the translation. He said it meant lifemate and that there is only one.

Gary is correct. You possess the other half of my soul. You are the keeper of my heart.

Again, she felt that wave of heat rush over her. How do you know?

I know. He spoke with that same confidence.

How will I know?

This time she felt his smile, his joy. I will share my mind with you. Court you. Persuade you. I can be quite charming when necessary.

Without warning, goose bumps prickled across Riley’s arms. The smile faded from her face. She turned instinctively toward the trail the search party had returned from. The smell of rotting vegetation, one of the jungle’s inescapable aromas, seemed stronger than usual. She realized the song from the plants and earth she had heard since waking had changed, becoming discordant.

Mitro is attacking, Dax told her. Do not fear. You are safe. He sounded certain, but she wasn’t feeling it.

"Safe? I’ve seen what he can do. I’ve felt it. And what do you mean he’s attacking? From where? How?" She gestured to Jubal and Gary, mouthing "Mitro is attacking."

It’s nothing I cannot stop. He is simply trying to weaken me by forcing me to protect this village while the sun is still up. A group of men and women he has corrupted are moving toward us. You have the ability to track them through the earth if you so choose.

"They’re coming," she told Gary and Jubal. "Men and women under Mitro’s power."

Gary ran toward the big tent without a word. Jubal gave her a pat on the shoulder and turned to shout commands in the local dialect. The entire camp erupted with activity, men gathering weapons and preparing for a fight, women hustling children to safety.

"What should I do?" She felt the rush in her body, but was at a loss at what to do about it.

Stay close to the center of camp. And breathe, sivamet.

She felt like an idiot, but she took a moment and tried to calm down.

Good, remember, I will always be with you. I won’t let any harm come to you. She felt invisible arms wrap around her, and the taint of evil washed away, replaced with warm strength. I can sense Mitro’s puppets coming from the neighboring village, but I want you to try and "feel" them. Then we will set a defensive perimeter. Dax showed an image of her sliding her hands in the ground.

Riley knelt down. When she put her hands in the earth before, she’d felt compelled, like the earth itself was asking her to communicate. This time, she was the one doing the asking. She wasn’t sure she really knew what to do-or that she could even do it. Taking a breath, she put her hands together as if she was going to dive into a pool and slowly pushed her fingers down into the earth.

The packed soil shifted, loosening so that her hands plunged in with ease. Surprise gave way to exhilaration as her world changed again. The song of the earth was strong and rich. It hummed up her arms, through her veins and along her nerve endings, a harmonious vibration that filled her with a sense of vast, ancient power and limitless strength. She closed her eyes, sitting back on her heels and savoring the sensation.

Use what the earth offers, Dax advised. Stretch out your senses.

There was nothing on earth not connected to it. She had the wild idea that she could even sense what was happening on the other side of the world, if she tried hard enough. As it was, however, she confined herself to a slightly less grandiose effort. Instead of the world, she reached out to the earth nearby. Her awareness radiated out to all corners of the camp and then beyond, moving through the sandy soil of the rain forest until she located the group moving with deadly purpose toward the camp.

"Dear God." She could feel the misery, the rage, the evil taint that clung to them like a foul muck.

Riley, remember you’re in control. Your job is to gather information. We need to see how many people are coming, and what sort of surprises Mitro has in store for us. You’re doing great.

Riley steeled herself and tried to look at the mob. In her mind’s eye, she saw the top of a recently shaved head bobbing in front of her. Then another head, this one covered in bloody scratch marks that were already bubbling with infection. She was looking through the eyes of a tree frog, watching as the mob passed by below his perch in the branches.

Frustrated that she couldn’t make out more, she pushed out with her power. Her hands sank deeper into the earth. The tips of her boots sank, too. A second view of the mob appeared, and it was like she had two sets of eyes, watching from two separate angles. Then a third pair of eyes expanded her vision, and a fourth. It was difficult to adjust to the multiple visual inputs.

Breathe, Riley, you are doing great. Let the fear go. You can do this. I’m right beside you. And he was. She could feel him under her, around her, inside her, sharing her mind. At the moment, it didn’t feel creepy or disturbing. She wanted him there, wanted him with her. Good, now focus on what you want. Trust your gifts to do the rest.

There are so many eyes. Where do I focus? Her head hurt. Images were pouring in now, dozens of different wildlife feeding their vision into her mind, each with a different perspective of the advancing threat.

His voice was steady, reassuring, as if they had all the time in the world and this was simply an exercise, not a matter of life and death. Pick a single image and then focus on one small detail.

"Okay, I’ll try." She chose the first "screen," the one that came in from the tree frog.

She was once more looking down on the tops of the people as they moved past. One head caught her attention. A woman. Her straight, thick black hair was covered with leaves and ash, like most of the others, but she had something stuck in her hair. An ornament made of bone, carved and painted. Riley could make out the swirls of red and white paint beneath the streaks of ash. She locked her focus on that hair ornament, and as the woman continued on the frog tracked her with its eyes until the hair ornament disappeared from its view.