Page 70 of Violet Legacy

“Good.”

But he was not so sure. There was something he was missing. An alien feeling that made him think that he had overlooked something important.

Rieka reached out, tugging at his neck, forcing him to lower his face to hers as she brushed her lips against his. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, before he crushed her to his chest as he deepened the kiss, demanding her mouth open. She tasted of hope and life. Things he had never realized had been missing from his life. Until now.

She slowly pulled back, untangling herself, a pretty flush across her cheeks as she moved away. He wanted to keep her by his side, but he didn’t want to ruin this moment for her.

The giant life-sized statue in front of him was slightly different from the others. It towered over him, reaching seven feet. The stone was warm to the touch but smooth. He wasn’t certain it was an Atlantean. There was a sense of foreboding the artist had crafted on the masculine face. One that reminded him of the battlefield. The furrow of the eyebrows and pursed lips made the statue appear mid-speech. Two stone points protruded from its shoulders, but they appeared to be small lumps—perhaps they had been broken. They stuck out a few inches away from its carved armor. He walked toward its back, listening as Rieka continued to move farther into the hall. The loud thud of her boots on the stone floor echoed through the room. She wasn’t trying to be quiet. It made it easier for him to pinpoint her in the room as she bobbed and weaved through the other statues. Every few seconds, he caught a flash of neon-green curls. And a sputtering of excited curses. It gave him time to study the statue in front of him. There was a plaque near its feet. He kneeled, wiping the dust away. The language was not one he wholly recognized. The pictographs bore some similarities with ancient Atlantean but not enough for him to translate it.

An icy breeze slammed into him. Dante pulled the blaster out of the holster. Every part of him was on alert as he searched for Rieka. A breeze meant that there was another way into the hall. One they weren’t aware of.

“Rieka.”

Silence greeted him.

Riekastrodethroughthehall. The large lifelike statues were becoming more elaborate in design the farther she walked. The marble had changed to other colorful materials. Where the outer statues had been cast predominately with lighter colored marble the statues that surrounded her now ranged from alabaster white to midnight black, their poses more reminiscent of courtiers rather than the fishermen and warriors Dante and her had first seen. It would take decades to catalog them. She could convince Dante that she was the perfect person to oversee the project.

Each step was taking her closer to her mom’s dream. There was a sense of urgency she couldn’t quite shake. Rieka stopped and sniffed the air. The scent of pomegranate and amber slammed into her. Lilian’s scent. She needed to find the origin. Jogging through the rows of statues, Rieka paid little heed to what was around her, focusing on the scent. Suddenly it disappeared.

“Mom?” The word escaped her before the absurdity of it hit her.

A pale thin green curtain swayed in the soft breeze. It took her a moment to realize there shouldn’t be a breeze, not down here.

Wait for Dante.

That would be the smart thing to do, but there was a pull that was demanding her to go through and see what was on the other side. The bracelet no longer pulsed. It was the first time since she had put it on that it was truly quiet. But her pendant was going into overdrive. She pulled it over her head and held it; the metal was scorching hot, and she almost dropped it. The crystals had changed to a muted lilac, casting everything in an ethereal glow as she walked past the curtain. The area was larger than she had expected, but by now she shouldn’t be surprised. They built the Arx on a labyrinth, and on the ruins of something far older. A lone statue stood in the corner; half-hidden in the shadows. Rieka didn’t need a plaque to know who it was.

Vandana.

She moved without thinking and found herself in front of the life-size statue. Flowing red hair was loosely braided, falling halfway down the statue’s back; its sun-kissed skin revealed a smattering of pale freckles across the bridge of the nose. A loose golden tunic reached her ankles. Hands were clasped piously in front of her, but a sword lay discarded at her feet, surrounded by colorful lilies. Rieka took a step closer. Around its neck was the faint outline of a familiar pendant.

“What secrets were you hiding?”

The statue looked like she was about to come to life. A single tear marked her perfect features. It was like looking at a photo of her mom. Except for Lilian’s darker coloring, they were almost identical.

Why hadn’t Rieka noticed it before?

It had been over eleven thousand years, but the pendant would finally be returned to its rightful owner. Rieka stood on her toes and slipped the necklace over the Vandana’s head, carefully fixing it until it was perfect.

She noticed it then.

A large white marble box lay behind the statue. Large enough to be a coffin. Rieka couldn’t tear her gaze away from it. This could be the final burial place of Vandana. Everything she had been working toward. She needed to find Dante; this was as much his find as hers. Placing the backpack on the ground, she cursed at the damn blaster. It was sacrilegious wearing it in the temple. She placed it against the wall. Down here she was safe enough—there was only one way in. And she had the knife.

Rieka moved to the white coffin. She didn’t know where to look or start.

The door behind her opened. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. It was the only warning sign she got.

“Rieka.”

The voice sent a chill through her. It wasn’t Dante, but she recognized the subtle Atlantean accent. It didn’t belong here.

“Idris?”

Chapter 43

“Littlehybrid.”

Emotions flooded through Rieka. Rage. Anger. They threatened to tear her apart as she almost stumbled against the onslaught. The room slowly stopped spinning as she focused on the newcomer. She had never believed so much malevolence could exist in a person, human or Atlantean, but she had been wrong.

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