Page 124 of Blood Stone
Nial blew out his breath. “Wow.”
“Yes, wow,” Roman agreed. “But there was a kicker. They could only imitate humans who were asleep and only for the length of their REM cycle.” Roman rubbed his hands furiously through his hair. “It took me nearly three years to figure this out because the ancient ones didn’t know about REM cycles, so the language they used was almost mystic. But that’s what it boils down to. A human REM cycle grows gradually longer as their nights’ sleep lengthens. We’ve all watched at least one human sleep through the night, so you know the pattern as well as I do. REM lasts anywhere from ten minutes, to about an hour as you get close to morning.”
“Are humans the only ones they can imitate?” Nial asked.
“The iela and the Elah don’t sleep. And we vampires weren’t around then.”
“We don’t sleep either,” Garrett pointed out.
Roman pursed his lips. Then he appeared to change his mind. “No, but we can be knocked out.”
Nial let out a breath. “Youhavethought about this.”
“Since I figured out what the Stone does? You bet.” Roman lined up the three coasters again. “The Summanus were led by Abiram. It’s probably no surprise, given the iela hunted the skies and the Elah liked their trees that the Summanus tended to stay underground, or near the ground. They were the underworld and they were not immortal. They were considered the weakest and most despised race among the Others. They were despised by humans, too, because they used human conscripts for their armies.”
“Armies?” Garrett questioned. “They were at war?”
“The three races were fighting amongst themselves for supremacy, I imagine,” Nial said quietly.
Roman nodded. “It lasted for generations. The Summanus were the only race that needed to renew itself and its energy — by drinking blood. They would use humans for this because humans were weak and easily overcome. And in the final battle they used humans as their vanguard and that is how the humans finally rid themselves of all of the Others.”
Roman pulled a coaster from the pile beneath the row of three and placed it above the line. “The Serena. Also known as the serene ones.”
“And they are?”
“No one knows,” Roman said. “You both know the Norse mythology, how the Einherjar and the Valkyrie are mortals lifted up to Valhalla to sit around until Odin says ‘go protect humans against the end of the world’?”
Garrett and Nial nodded.
“As far as I can tell, the Serena are like the Einherjar. They’re not gods, but they’re servants of higher powers. They could take human form and when they did they were ethereal and beautiful...and frightening. It was difficult dealing with a Serena because they could be very literal. They mete justice with no regard for the human equation, so if you made a bargain with the Serena you had to be very careful what you asked for.”
“Wait,” Nial said, leaning forward. “You call on them for favours?”
“No.” Roman shook his head. “They didn’t keep debts. They mete justice. Someone had to break the rules first.Thenyou could call on them for settlement for the damages you had suffered.”
“What rules?” Garrett asked.
“They weren’t written down. It wasn’t codified, Garrett. Don’t give me that look. We’re talking about five hundred thousand BC or something. Writing hadn’t been invented, let alone solicitors. When a major rule was broken and punishment was handed out, the injured party could ask for a favour, or retribution, amendment or healing.” Roman grinned.
“A favour?” Nial clarified.
“You could ask for anything you desire,” Roman said, with a grin. “But Serena blessings could twist. If your intentions were humble and good, then they usually worked okay. But if you got greedy or selfish, the gift tended to backfire.”
“I imagine people didn’t bother the Serena with petty concerns, then,” Nial said.
“They didn’t like to be pissed off. That was a major rule.” Roman tapped the coaster again. “You could ask a straight-out favour of them — if you were lucky enough to find a Serene one wandering around with a moment to spare and the patience to listen. If they were in the mood to bestow the gift, then you could bargain for the price. Serena gifts could exact a heavy toll. So I guess they did keep debit tabs running in that respect.”
“And humans asked the Serena to get rid of the Summanus?” Garrett asked.
Roman shook his head. “The Summanus won the war, first. They defeated the iela and the Elah and it was a hard, dirty fight. The humans they ‘recruited’ took the brunt of the punishment. They were slaughtered by the thousands. The humans didn’t much appreciate that. Apparently, neither did Serena, for they appeared at the end of the war and executed Abiram on the spot for his cruelty. The wording I was given was ‘his insides were turn to the light.’ It sounds like they gutted him in broad daylight. As the Summanus were nocturnal that would have been a nasty way to go.”
Garrett shuddered.
“Then the humans stepped up to the plate and demanded satisfaction, too. They cited a long list of grievances against the three races and their generations of war-mongering. Mostly, the Summanus were the target, but the humans made sure they included the iela and the Elah as well. The Serena agreed that humans had made their case.”
Roman reached over and picked up the wooden base that held all the coasters. It had four brass stakes driven into it, standing upright, to keep the coasters lined up neatly in a stack.
“The humans said they wanted to be rid of the three races. So the Serena created the Blood Stone.” He picked up the three coasters and placed them one by one into the holder. “And into it they poured the three most powerful races the world has ever seen.” He placed his hand over the top of the holder. “Then they sealed the stone with inscriptions that locked them away. Some say forever. And for their impertinence, the Serena left behind for humans a trace of the Summanus as a reminder.”
“Us,” Nial concluded.
Garrett couldn’t take his eyes off Roman’s hand sitting on top of the holder. “What happens if the stone is broken?” he asked, and wasn’t surprised his voice emerged hoarse.
“It can’t be broken,” Roman told him. “Not simply by raising it and dropping it. But it can be cleaved in two if the inscription upon it is spoken and when that happens—” He lifted the holder up and tipped it upside down. The three coasters spilled out upon the coffee table.
“The end of the world as we know it,” Nial concluded.
