The Greater Challenge Beyond (The Southern Continent Series Book 3) (34 page)

Think of me, and me alone, as you heal the stone
, a voice whispered.

Grange was sure it was Ariana’s voice, the voice he knew so well, and had been separated from for so long.  He did not see or sense her presence, and there was no answer when he called her name.  But he obeyed the command, and he filled his time with memories of the elemental being while his energy filtered into the stone’s infinite empty spaces.  It felt subtly different as his thoughts grew more focused and his memories grew clearer.

Hours later, the time was at hand; he wore his red robe, and spent time rearranging the bundles of loose tinder, kindling, and fire wood that had been laboriously carried to the top of the tower.  Within the center of the circle of the firewood he placed a table, and on the table were the evergreen sprig and the wine needed for the wand christening, as well as his knife, and on the floor sat several buckets of water.

All other furniture had been lofted by Grange’s energy down to the floor below, leaving the wide circular surface of the tower free of all other items except those that were meant for the ceremony. 

Grange waited for Jenniline to arrive, his excitement mounting by the minute.  The moon was far above the horizon, losing the reddish hue it had carried aloft, and the sun was just disappearing below the western horizon.

Jenniline appeared when the stars began to emerge in the overhead sky.  She was dressed in a red gown similar to Grange’s, except it was sleeveless, and belted with a sash.

“I think I’m ready,” she spoke with a touch of nervousness in her voice.

“Do you want a drink of wine, to relax?” Grange asked, motioning to the chalice of wine and bottle on the table in the center of the rooftop.

“Yes, please,” Jenniline didn’t hesitate to reply.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous; I’ve seen you use this energy of yours many times.   This isn’t really any different from that, is it?” she asked, as Grange walked over to the table and filled the chalice, then carried back to her.

“It is different, in some ways,” Grange answered.  “Mostly because there will be more energy used at once, and because you’ll be so close.  But I’ll take care of you,” he said, feeling slightly uneasy as he recollected the effect his wand’s energy discharge had upon Shaylee and Grace, during the first ceremony for the wand, back in Kilau.

Jenniline took a long draught of the wine.  “Would you like some?” she asked, running her fingertips lightly along her upper lip.

“I’ll wait,” Grange told her, though he wished he could take a drink.  He wanted to keep his head clear, in order to make sure that every step was completed correctly.

“Come over here,” he took her by the hand and they walked to the center of the circular roof, then stood by the table.

“I wonder how many people are watching the roof top?” Jenniline mused.  “Everyone knows you’ve been waiting for this full moon.  I’ll bet half the palace is looking out their windows, glancing up here.”

“Let’s hope they are satisfied with the show,” Grange said weakly.  He wasn’t sure what to expect.  It was likely to be spectacular, though, he was sure.

“If you’re ready, I need to cut your hand, so that your blood and mine touch the wand,” he told her.

“I’ll try not to make it hurt much,” he said.

“A cut on the hand is the last thing I’d call painful,” she said stoutly.  Her eyes had a slightly glassy look, Grange thought.

He held her hand in his, palm open, then put the knife blade across two inches, letting the flesh turn to a weeping red line.  He released her hand, then cut his own, slightly longer, and slightly deeper, determined to show her that he had cut himself more than he had cut her.

“This is where it begins.  If you have any doubts or second thoughts, you can go now, and I’ll understand,” Grange told the princess.  His eyes were averted from her as he looked down at the table and picked up the wand.

Jenniline was silent for a long pause.

“You won’t be quit of me that easily.  I’ve come along with you this far, and it’s been an interesting ride.  I think it’ll be worth seeing the journey through together,” she finally said.  “Let’s go on.”

Grange felt a mixture of both pleasure and pride, and regret.  He was thankful that Jenniline had decided to carry the ceremony out, but he suspected that there would be some impact, some residue from whatever happened, that might leave Jenniline changed.

He picked up the wand with his bloody hand, and held it in front of himself.  Without a word, Jenniline pressed her hand against his.  Their fingers wove between each other, then clenched tightly, and they grinned tightly at one another as well.  Grange lifted the wand high, and their bodies were pulled together in response.

He pointed his free hand at the wooden circle.  “Burn!” he commanded, and he let his finger rotate around, spreading the first flames that began to consume the fuel placed at the ready.  He ceased the discharge, then placed his hand on Jenniline’s back, firming the connection between the two of them.

And then he commanded the energy in the wand to release.  There was a tremor in their grip, though he wasn’t sure whether it was a nervous reaction of his muscles, or an action of the wand. Then there was light – brilliant, pure light – a white energy that was pregnant with the promise of cleansing and warmth as its column expanded outward from the wand’s tip and rose towards the moon overhead.  If anyone in the palace was unaware of Grange’s plans that evening, they’d certainly learn that something was occurring, as the shaft of light that rose from the wand cast shadows across the whole city.

He had to take control of the wand and its energy, he knew.  He had to think about the power, and he had to think about how he would use the power.  He had to think about opposite uses – how he would use the power to battle and destroy the demons, but also use it to heal and build the world he lived in as well.

He wanted to use the wand to win the war with the demons.  The energy in the wand was going to have to defend, and fight, and most immediately, it would have to help him fulfill the prophecies that Miriam the goddess had made, that he would find ways to replicate and recreate – specifically replicate the demon-destroying power of the sword she had given him, as well as replicate the elemental jewels he hand known and relied upon before their destruction.

He wanted to protect life.  He wanted to nurture life.  He wanted people to know that they were valued and had opportunities – he didn’t want children to feel warehoused and abandoned in orphanages, as he had felt.  He wanted to stop tyranny, as he had seen it and known it in Fortune, and he wanted to end wars, such as the combat that was befalling Palmland.

The energy was draining from the wand, flying upward, and as it left his wand, he felt it reach down through his blood, reaching through the veins of his body, reaching backwards into his heart and soul, reaching for the thoughts he was thinking, embracing them and consuming them and accommodating them, so that it would become attuned to his greatest needs and desires.

He had to keep his thoughts focused and pure, he knew.  He had to think of the things he longed for.  He thought of the warmth of Kilua, and the clear air of the Palmland mountains.  He thought of the leadership and guidance he had received from Brieed, and from Ariana.  He thought of the counsel and support that Jenniline had given him.

The light overhead began to change colors.  He opened his tightly shut eyes and looked upward, nearly blinded by the brilliance that flowed merely inches from his face, but aware that high overhead, the column of light was changing shapes, reflecting something of the thoughts that the wand was incorporating and digesting from his soul into its own form.

Grange sensed that the energy was nearly halfway emptied already, as the vast torrent of power erupted.  He had more to do, he knew.  There was the sprig of evergreen, sitting on the table, the next step in the process.  He reached over and let his fingers find the juniper twig.

“Kiss this, and put part of it in your mouth,” he shouted the words to Jenniline.  The discharge of the energy wasn’t loud, but he felt his senses so overwhelmed that he needed to shout to cut through the distractions of images and feeling and dislocation.

Jenniline’s eyes opened, unfocused, and her mouth gapped partially open.  Grange pressed the juniper into the dark space between her lips, which seemed supernaturally red against her pale skin, and she closed them upon the twig.

Grange pressed his own face forward, and took the extended greenery upon his lips briefly, then within his own mouth, then closed his own lips, finding that they were resting against Jenniline’s.

The energy being released from the wand suddenly flared, changing to green, then blue, then red, then oscillating among the three colors as Grange and Jenniline looked into one another’s eyes.  He tasted the freshness of the juniper, its fragrance washing across his tongue and through his mouth.  He let his tongue dart around the sprig and poke out, to leave his mouth and begin to touch Jenniline’s lips, making them quiver.  Then her lips parted, and her own tongue reached out and aggressively met his, welcoming it and challenging it, testing and touching and tasting his, flesh to flesh, bathed in the intoxicating energy moving around the juniper twig that had brought them together.

The energy of the wand reacted again, and they felt the tower rock beneath their feet, then they felt themselves start to rise from the roof, lifted by the power’s explosive reaction to their kiss.

They both withdrew their tongues, though they held their lips pressed against one another’s and around the juniper.  The exuberance of the energy diminished, and they floated back down to the stone roof top.

The wand was starting to feel as though it was almost fully emptied.  Grange could sense its discharge growing less frantic, and he focused his thoughts again.  There would be the requirements of war, the need for power in battle, and then there would be the need to heal, and then the need to rebuild, he gave the wand a narrative of what was to come.

The discharge began to sputter.

Grange raised his free hand and momentarily stroked Jenniline’s jaw softly with it, then reached between their lips and pulled the evergreen spring free.  He bent down and picked up the first of the buckets of water, and awkwardly poured it upon himself.

“Miriam!  That’s cold!” he gasped, as the energy sputtered dramatically for a moment.

He flung the bucket aside, and grabbed another, then emptied it upon Jenniline, splashing some upon himself.

“You poxed dog!” she swore at him, though her grip on the wand remained tight.

He picked up the third bucket, raised it higher, and inundated both their heads, then flung that bucket aside, and reached for the chalice of wine as Jenniline gasped from the chill.

He raised the cup up to and through the beam of energy, then took a long drink of the contents, as the chalice glowed with a golden hue.

“Your turn, drink this,” he told Jenniline.

She raised the chalice and held it as his hand remained on it, and she drank deeply.

“Now,” Grange said, “here comes the end!”

He focused again on the wand and willed the energy to depart.  He felt the wand respond, and suddenly felt it reach into him again, reaching through his blood and his flesh to call upon his own access to the power.  The wand tapped the well of energy that Grange was in touch with, and it began to pull new energy into itself, then expelled that as well in a brilliant, flaring new height of power.

“Grange, what’s happening?” Jenniline cried.  “I’m going to pass out!”

He felt himself growing faint and weak, as the wand pulled vast new streams of power through him.  He grabbed onto her with his free arm, and pulled her wet body tightly against his, supporting her as he felt her go limp in his arm.

Grange, you are magnificent!
Ariana’s voice sounded in his soul.

And then he passed out.

Chapter 25

When Grange awoke, he found that the sun was rising, the tower was glowing, and Jenniline lay atop him, still unconscious.  Their hands still grasped the wand that had created such a tumultuous night.

The tower was glowing.  He focused on that.  The stones shone duly in the red light of the rising sun, and the tower appeared to be lighter than it had previously been – the brown stones appeared to be a golden tan.

He twiddled his fingers to untangle them from Jenniline’s, then felt a sting as their crusted blood parted along their palms.  Jenniline moaned, but didn’t stir.

Grange remembered his first experience with the wand, when he had stood with Grace and discharged its power.  There had been a distraction, and a resulting incident that left Shaylee and Grace both unconscious and glowing with power.

Ariana had advised him to touch the wand to the two girls, and their glow had ceased, without harm to either.  It seemed to him that he could accomplish the same thing with the tower.

He touched the tip of the wand towards the tower.  As the slender stick approached the stone roof, there was an arcing of energy, a sizzling discharge of power that drained the glow from the tower and filled the wand with energy.

Grange felt the tower tremble momentarily, and then all was still.

In the removal of the tower’s luminescence, he saw that Jenniline too was glowing softly, her usually porcelain skin warmed with a golden hue.  He touched the wand to the girl’s forehead, and saw a minute spark arc from her flesh to the wood, then the glow disappeared.

“Jenniline,” he spoke softly, then reached up and stroked her face tenderly.

“Princess, we need to awaken,” he spoke again.

She made a soft sound in her throat, a murmur, and she rolled her head on her shoulders.

“Jenniline, don’t make me kiss you again to wake you up,” he said gently.

Her eyes opened, and she looked down at him.

“That kiss last night was unbelievable,” she said.  “But if you ever tried that again under any less extraordinary circumstances, I’d wallop your face,” she told him matter-of-factly.  She gave a heave, then rolled off the top of him.