Page 141 of The Seeker
“Rhys, what is it?”
“A memory stone.”
He’d never held one in his hand. They were an object for textbooks, the magic so old it was considered too inefficient for modern scribes. Rhys touched histalesm prim,felt his newly charged magic wake. The words etched under the surface of the stone came to life before his eyes, each line glowing silver for a few moments before it faded and the next one came to life.
I, Akune, eldest son of Uriel’s blood and chosen mate of the Sun Singer, Atawakabiche, the Painted Wolf of the Uwachi Toma, do write this record before our battle against Nalu, tormenter of the lakes and archangel of the heavens. If we succeed, our sons will know how to kill these Fallen and free the minds of their children, that they may rejoin our race as the Creator intended.
“Ata’s mate knew that Grigori could have free will,” Rhys said quietly. “He wrote that it was the Creator’s intention that the Grigori rejoin the Irin.”
If we fail, let this record be my lesson to our people, for I will kill Nalu, the murderer, or I will die in the attempt.
Meera scooted closer. “What is this, Rhys?”
“This is the magic they used to kill Nalu.” His fingers traced the edges of the stone. “This is the scribe’s role, the part Ata can’t tell us. Get me a paper, a scroll. Anything.” He looked up. “This is going to hurt.”
Her eyes went wide. “For me?”
“For both of us.”
The next morninghis new mate, splendid and glowing in the morning sun, sang a rising song passed down by Anamitra. They greeted the dawn hand in hand, family and friends gathered behind them. They were joyful and refreshed, full of newly shared power and knowledge Rhys knew would give them victory. Akune’s memory stone was safely stored with his most precious possessions and would stay hidden from everyone except Damien until he could place it in the most secure library he could find.
Until then, the magic Akune had written was hidden in his mind.
It was an ingenious spell. Wickedly simple and elegant in execution. It was a spell that turned an angel’s intrinsic nature against itself and used an Irin warrior’s humanity as a strength instead of a weakness.
Rhys held Meera’s hand, but his eyes were on Ata across the meadow. Ata watched Meera, not even glancing at Rhys. Her expression was nearly impossible to decipher. Why had she changed her mind about teaching Rhys and Meera? What had she seen between them? Or was she simply divesting herself of everything so she could die as she’d stated?
The breakfast served after the rising song was a simple one. Low tables had been placed under the oak alley with cushions and pillows scattered on the grass. The previous days had been filled with games, sport, and celebrations as Meera and Rhys had been in seclusion, and the easy familiarity of the guests was evident in the mixed company and lively conversation of everyone attending.
Even Ata looked more relaxed. She was speaking with Sabine and Roch, smiling at a trio of children who were tossing a ball over their heads while adults chased them farther onto the grass.
“Everyone is getting along,” Meera said.
“Which is exactly the point of leaving them all alone to socialize while we have copious amounts of sex.” Rhys sipped the glorious dark tea Patiala had served him. “Excellent tradition.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Something happened with Roch and Sabine.”
“I saw Ata talking to them.”
“She looks steady,” Meera said. “More so than she usually is.”
“She’s clutching Roch’s hand like he’s her lifeline.”
“But she’s not hiding. Normally with this many people, she would.”
Rhys raised his eyebrows. “Curious.”
“Very.”
The meal was winding down, and baskets of fruit were being passed around the tables when Ata stood. Though she didn’t step forward or make any loud noise, the entire gathering came to attention.
“I was reluctant to come here,” she said simply. “Not for any reason other than my own desire for solitude.”
Rhys glanced at Maarut and Patiala, whose faces were frozen in polite smiles.
“But I was wrong to be reluctant,” Ata continued. “This mating was ordained by the Creator. For this time. In this place. And I was meant to be here as well.”
Had Rhys imagined a collective sigh of relief or was that simply a breeze passing from the river?
