Christine Feehan - Dark Demon 16

«A dragon, Vikirnoff. How would a dragon be trapped in the wall like that?» She wanted to weep for the creature. She put her hand on the ice, fingers spread wide, right over the claw as if to hold it close to her. «Who would do this to a dragon?» She couldn't look away from that one, brilliant eye.

«Not one, but two.» His voice was grim. He peered closer. «There is a second one, side by side with the first. You can see the outline of the leg and claw.»

Natalya pressed against the wall, until her nose turned blue. Unconsciously, her fingernails dug at the ice, trying to get to the mythical creatures. «This isn't right, Vikirnoff.» She wanted to weep. Her chest burned and felt too tight. «Can we get them out?»

His hands were gentle as he pulled her away from the wall of ice. «Is this what you are after? More than one vampire are now seeking us. I feel the presence of Arturo and several others. Unfortunately, I worry more about the ones I cannot feel. I sense the presence of evil, but cannot tell where it is. We cannot take a chance of removing a wall of ice this thick without the entire mountain coming down on us and even if we could, we do not have the necessary time.»

«I wish I had come for the dragons. This is just not right. I had no idea dragons were real.»

«They are and they are not.» He turned her away from the ice tomb. «You are much too sensitive. Your grief is as strong as it is unexpected.» And her compassion only endeared her to him more. He tugged on her until she followed him. «Which way?»

Natalya took the lead again. The hall opened into a gallery. Tall columns of intricately carved, Gothic-style architecture rose to the high cathedral ceiling. Crystals and ice pillars formed two rows of columns down the room, each holding several round globes of various colors.

Natalya stopped abruptly. «This is the place. I'm supposed to come here, to this room. Don't touch anything, Vikirnoff. There are traps everywhere. I can feel them.» She paced a distance down the wide-open room and then returned to him. Mythical creatures rose up from the floor in life-size sculptures made of clear crystal. Blood red pyramids made of stone gleamed from chiseled archways in the walls. If she stared too long at one of the many spheres, it came alive, swirling and changing color, trying to draw an unwary victim to the intense beauty.

On the floor, beneath the ice were strange squares, pyramids and starburst patterns of stones. In the center of each shape were hieroglyphics, pictures carved deep into the rock. «This is the way out,» Natalya said. «They had to have an escape hole and the shapes have to be stepped on in a certain pattern to open the stone above the stairs.»

«You have really never been here before?»

Small lines appeared around her mouth and across her forehead as she tried to reach into her memories. «I may have dreamt of this place. My father told me of the cave and the ice stairs leading the way out. He warned me not to touch anything until I was certain…» she trailed off, her gaze suddenly meeting Vikirnoff's. «It was my father. He set up the compulsion for me to come here. He must have.»

«Why would he put you in such danger?» Vikirnoff watched her pace restlessly through the huge room, examining objects on display. A tall rack of weapons in a shallow alcove caught her eye, but after a moment she moved on, as if driven to find a single item.

«I don't know, but it must be important.» Distracted, she moved slowly up and down the room, trying to tune herself to the right direction. She didn't have a clue what she was looking for and her dragon birthmark was burning with alarm. She pressed her hand over it, trying to stop the warning. «I think the vampires are close.»

Vikirnoff scanned continually throughout the network of caves, looking for anything that would tell him where the vampire was. It was close. He had an instinct for the undead, and right now his warning system was blaring an alert. The sound of the water was even louder. Normally he could tone down the volume, but the continual dripping was a drumbeat, echoing throughout the network of caves. Calling to something. Awakening something. The deeper they had come into the caverns, the louder and more insistent the dripping water.

The sound of water swelled until it was a booming pulse, a constant irritating reminder they were trapped beneath hundreds of feet of ice. Vikirnoff glanced toward the small pool forming at the base of one of the columns. The pool should have been a clear liquid, but it was discolored, a faint rusty-brown. Like mud. Or old blood. Drops of water ran down the

column and fell into the puddle. With each drop the surface shook. The shock waves seemed to travel outward to encompass the chamber itself so that cavern shook slightly with each drop.

Something glittered in the depths of the puddle, something dark and lurking just below the murky surface. Peering down into the oily mess, Natalya thought something stared back at her with red, glowing eyes. A dark shadow slithered through the rusty-brown waters. She jumped back. «That can't be good.»

«Get away from there,» Vikirnoff warned. «Whoever or whatever the water is calling, we want no part of.»

Natalya moved closer to the collection of spheres. One glittering crystal globe, a full foot in diameter, rested on a tower of black obsidian. Natalya held out her hands, palms not touching the crystal, but shaping the curve of the globe. At once she felt the tremendous drawing as it leapt to life at her close proximity.

Can you feel that? The heat? She tried to pull back, but couldn't look away. Mists swirled inside, pulling her-drawing her-commanding her to take hold.

Natalya, no! But Vikirnoff's warning was too late. Even as he leapt forward to pull her away from the crystal ball, she grasped it in both hands.

Chapter 8

Natalya screamed, the sound of agony ripping through the long ice cavern. Her fingers welded to the crystal ball, burning until she thought her skin would peel back to the bone.

Vikirnoff leapt to pull her back, but her voice protested in his mind. No! You cannot touch me. It is consuming me. It cannot take you, too, or I have no way back.

Swearing aloud he dropped his hands to his sides. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from yanking her into his arms. Breathing deep, ignoring the constant sound of the water booming and echoing through the chamber, he concentrated on holding Natalya's essence to him.

I can't do this. It burns, Vikirnoff. I can't think because of the pain.

He felt agony sweeping through her body, the wrenching at her bones and flesh, as if the ball drew her out of the world she inhabited and into the turbulence of the crystal globe itself. Setting his teeth, he took the brunt of the pain from her. Immediately his skin beaded with blood and it dripped from his brow into his eyes. You are both Carpathian and mage. You command the earth and the air and you are unusually strong. Get what you came for

and get out.

Natalya took a deep breath as the pain lessened. It was the confidence in his voice, the respect he afforded her, that allowed her to go beyond her physical body and reach for her mage training. Her body was nothing, a shell, no more than that. Her spirit was stronger than the whirling winds tearing at her flesh. She rose above the pain, above the terror and found her strength.

Colors swirled around her, midnight blues, glittering stars, streaks of light like comets trailing across the sky. Galaxies and star systems shot by her at a dizzying speed, twined together briefly and arced apart with a shower of sparks falling like rain. She found herself staring in wonder, in awe, aware the future lay in that direction. She could find a thread, one that was hers and follow it and know what was waiting. The temptation was strong. It was dazzlingly beautiful, impressive and the idea of knowing what lay ahead was difficult to resist.