Dark Blood
Page 19
Both Fen and Dimitri touched his shoulder in a kind of salute, but neither spoke. They didn’t have to. He felt their affection, the brotherhood they’d offered. For just a moment, Tatijana touched his mind and then Skyler. He had forgotten what it was like to have family. It had been far too many years.
Feeling a burn behind his eyes, Zev closed them. He became aware of the scent of the aromatic candles. Hundreds of them burned in the cave with a combination of healing fragrances. Mikhail stepped up to the side of the raised bed with Gregori gliding into position beside him. He felt their close proximity without having to see either of them. The combination of the two men radiated an extraordinary power.
A hush settled in the chamber. He felt a searing heat drive right through his stomach and his eyes flew open. Gregori stood over him, hands raised, palms facing the wound in his gut, the white-hot energy unlike anything Zev had ever experienced. Gregori’s hands were a good twelve inches from his body, but he could have been touching him with a red-hot poker.
The Carpathians present in the chamber began to chant, the language ancient, the words powerful. Others outside the healing cave, in the far distance, joined, their voices rising to aid in his healing. There was something comforting in the knowledge that an entire community could come together to try to save a single member from death.
The heat generated by Gregori alone was so scorching hot his mind shied away from the fact that Mikhail would amplify it. Once the two joined together he couldn’t imagine the degree of heat.
Mikhail spoke in a low, carrying tone.
kudejek kuntanak en Karpatiinak és kuntanak en hän ku pesänak. I call upon generations of the line of the prince and the line of the protector.
The Carpathians in the cavern replied back to him.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail inhaled deeply and trusted his judgment.
kudejek kuntanak Köd-verinak, kontak és hän ku pusmak päläpälä. I call upon generations of the line of Dark Blood, warriors and healers alike.
The surrounding Carpathians called back.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail continued.
Juttanak kuntamet en Karpatiinak és kuntamet en hän ku pesänak és kuntamet Köd-verinak. Join the line of the prince with the line of the protector and the line of Dark Blood. It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Bring them together as one.
Those in the chamber intoned back.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail placed his hands on either side of Gregori’s body.
Päläpälä mekenak tuli ku pusm és katt3nak hän ainaba jamatan ekänkak. Together we bring forth the fire of healing and send it into the body of our fallen brother.
The Carpathian people called back in response.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail added one last plea to the spirits of their ancestors.
Andak jamatan ekänkhoz wäke bekit kutni takkapet. Give our fallen brother the strength to endure this trial. Pusmak jakamaka és saγedak hängem wäkeva ainaval, kont o sívanak, és umuš käktäveritkuntaknak. Heal his wounds and bring him forth with a strong body, strong heart and the wisdom of our combined bloodlines.
The Carpathians responded with one last invocation.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail’s entire body glowed white, his hands shimmering with fire. The fire leapt from him to Gregori. Gregori’s body stiffened, and then jerked hard as if he’d absorbed a terrible blow. Flames ran down his arms and flickered over his fingers. He plunged his hand into the hole in Zev’s gut.
Zev’s entire body convulsed. He heard the wolf howl, a distant, painful cry as it retreated, desperate to escape the burn of pure fire. His Carpathian side leapt toward the cleansing fire while the wolf raced away. Sweat poured from his body, so that his entire body was dotted with tiny beads of blood.
Connected as he was to the two men through the blood of the ancient lines, Zev felt the force as a form of raw electrical charge. Gregori battled to stay in control of so much power. Mikhail fought to hold back the sheer energy radiating from him. All Carpathian people were connected through him and he drew their strength and energy like a magnet. It was as if a hundred suns had been lit and he carried them all.
“You’re killing him,” Fen hissed. He gripped Dimitri’s shoulder, his knuckles turning white. “It’s too much, back off.”
Mikhail shot him a glance of pure reprimand. Fen started to turn away, but couldn’t. Tatijana reached out to him, slipping her hand in his in an effort to comfort him.
Skyler leaned back against Dimitri, looking over her shoulder at him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body into the shelter of his.
Light escaped from Gregori’s hands, streaking through the chamber, so bright many of them had to turn away or close their eyes. Several rock formations exploded. He didn’t look away from his task, the terrible gaping hole in Zev’s abdomen, but broke out into a sweat. Tiny beads of blood ran down his face. His features were carved with concentration as he directed the light into Zev’s body.
Zev’s body turned bright red, as if his temperature soared and he could no longer control it. His hair grew damp and his body writhed and seized.
His mind retreated from the pain, an agony such as he’d never experienced, his insides forced into regeneration, an unnatural fiery death and rebirth.
“You’re losing him,” Mikhail hissed. “He’s a Dark Blood. Call to that part of him, the warrior in him. Call to the blood line of Tirunul.”
From far away Zev heard the prince speak, but his voice was lost among other voices calling to him from another realm.
He felt the fireball of pure white energy moving through him, burning him clean, cauterizing and cleansing, but that too was becoming distant.
Zev, you have to fight.
That was Fen, demanding. Coaxing.
Come on, bro, this is your time. Don’t let go. You can beat this thing.
He recognized Dimitri’s voice—or thought he did. The fire consumed him, left him with no lungs, no heart, no mind. He was incinerated. Burned alive.
I am with you, Branislava whispered. Wherever you are, I am with you always.
Feeling a burn behind his eyes, Zev closed them. He became aware of the scent of the aromatic candles. Hundreds of them burned in the cave with a combination of healing fragrances. Mikhail stepped up to the side of the raised bed with Gregori gliding into position beside him. He felt their close proximity without having to see either of them. The combination of the two men radiated an extraordinary power.
A hush settled in the chamber. He felt a searing heat drive right through his stomach and his eyes flew open. Gregori stood over him, hands raised, palms facing the wound in his gut, the white-hot energy unlike anything Zev had ever experienced. Gregori’s hands were a good twelve inches from his body, but he could have been touching him with a red-hot poker.
The Carpathians present in the chamber began to chant, the language ancient, the words powerful. Others outside the healing cave, in the far distance, joined, their voices rising to aid in his healing. There was something comforting in the knowledge that an entire community could come together to try to save a single member from death.
The heat generated by Gregori alone was so scorching hot his mind shied away from the fact that Mikhail would amplify it. Once the two joined together he couldn’t imagine the degree of heat.
Mikhail spoke in a low, carrying tone.
kudejek kuntanak en Karpatiinak és kuntanak en hän ku pesänak. I call upon generations of the line of the prince and the line of the protector.
The Carpathians in the cavern replied back to him.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail inhaled deeply and trusted his judgment.
kudejek kuntanak Köd-verinak, kontak és hän ku pusmak päläpälä. I call upon generations of the line of Dark Blood, warriors and healers alike.
The surrounding Carpathians called back.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail continued.
Juttanak kuntamet en Karpatiinak és kuntamet en hän ku pesänak és kuntamet Köd-verinak. Join the line of the prince with the line of the protector and the line of Dark Blood. It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Bring them together as one.
Those in the chamber intoned back.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail placed his hands on either side of Gregori’s body.
Päläpälä mekenak tuli ku pusm és katt3nak hän ainaba jamatan ekänkak. Together we bring forth the fire of healing and send it into the body of our fallen brother.
The Carpathian people called back in response.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail added one last plea to the spirits of their ancestors.
Andak jamatan ekänkhoz wäke bekit kutni takkapet. Give our fallen brother the strength to endure this trial. Pusmak jakamaka és saγedak hängem wäkeva ainaval, kont o sívanak, és umuš käktäveritkuntaknak. Heal his wounds and bring him forth with a strong body, strong heart and the wisdom of our combined bloodlines.
The Carpathians responded with one last invocation.
It kule megem, oma kontak, hän ku pusmak. Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
Mikhail’s entire body glowed white, his hands shimmering with fire. The fire leapt from him to Gregori. Gregori’s body stiffened, and then jerked hard as if he’d absorbed a terrible blow. Flames ran down his arms and flickered over his fingers. He plunged his hand into the hole in Zev’s gut.
Zev’s entire body convulsed. He heard the wolf howl, a distant, painful cry as it retreated, desperate to escape the burn of pure fire. His Carpathian side leapt toward the cleansing fire while the wolf raced away. Sweat poured from his body, so that his entire body was dotted with tiny beads of blood.
Connected as he was to the two men through the blood of the ancient lines, Zev felt the force as a form of raw electrical charge. Gregori battled to stay in control of so much power. Mikhail fought to hold back the sheer energy radiating from him. All Carpathian people were connected through him and he drew their strength and energy like a magnet. It was as if a hundred suns had been lit and he carried them all.
“You’re killing him,” Fen hissed. He gripped Dimitri’s shoulder, his knuckles turning white. “It’s too much, back off.”
Mikhail shot him a glance of pure reprimand. Fen started to turn away, but couldn’t. Tatijana reached out to him, slipping her hand in his in an effort to comfort him.
Skyler leaned back against Dimitri, looking over her shoulder at him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body into the shelter of his.
Light escaped from Gregori’s hands, streaking through the chamber, so bright many of them had to turn away or close their eyes. Several rock formations exploded. He didn’t look away from his task, the terrible gaping hole in Zev’s abdomen, but broke out into a sweat. Tiny beads of blood ran down his face. His features were carved with concentration as he directed the light into Zev’s body.
Zev’s body turned bright red, as if his temperature soared and he could no longer control it. His hair grew damp and his body writhed and seized.
His mind retreated from the pain, an agony such as he’d never experienced, his insides forced into regeneration, an unnatural fiery death and rebirth.
“You’re losing him,” Mikhail hissed. “He’s a Dark Blood. Call to that part of him, the warrior in him. Call to the blood line of Tirunul.”
From far away Zev heard the prince speak, but his voice was lost among other voices calling to him from another realm.
He felt the fireball of pure white energy moving through him, burning him clean, cauterizing and cleansing, but that too was becoming distant.
Zev, you have to fight.
That was Fen, demanding. Coaxing.
Come on, bro, this is your time. Don’t let go. You can beat this thing.
He recognized Dimitri’s voice—or thought he did. The fire consumed him, left him with no lungs, no heart, no mind. He was incinerated. Burned alive.
I am with you, Branislava whispered. Wherever you are, I am with you always.
