Air Bound
Mikhail spoke in an ancient language, the ritual words to call to their long-gone ancestors. "Veri isaakank--veri ekaakank."
To his absolute shock and astonishment, Zev understood the words. Blood of our fathers--blood of our brothers. He knew that was the literal translation, but the language was an ancient one, not of the Lycans. He had been born Lycan. He had heard the language spoken by Carpathians down through the centuries but he shouldn't have understood the words so clearly.
"Veri olen elid."
Blood is life. Zev's breath caught in his throat. He understood. He spoke many languages, but this was so ancient he couldn't have ever learned it. Why was he understanding it now? Nothing made sense, although his mind wasn't quite as foggy as it had been.
Branislava tightened her fingers around his. He turned his head and looked at her. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. Her eyes were on his face and he felt her gaze penetrating deep. Too deep. She was already branded in his mind. She was coming far too close to his heart.
"Andak veri-elidet Karpatiiakank, es wake-sarna ku meke arwa-arvo, irgalom, han ku agba, es wake kutni, ku manaak verival," Mikhail continued. The power of his voice rang through the chamber, raw and elemental, bringing Zev's attention back to him.
Zev interpreted the words. "We offer that life to our people with a blood sworn vow of honor, mercy, integrity and endurance."
What did that mean? This was a ritual--a ceremony that he felt part of--even though he didn't know what exactly was going on. The appearance of Fen and Dimitri was reassuring to him. The longer he was awake, the more his mind cleared. The two were of mixed blood, although both had been born Carpathian.
Mikhail dropped his palm over the very sharp tip of the dark red column. At once the crystals went from dark red to crimson, as if Mikhail's blood had brought them to life.
"Verink sokta; verink terad." Mikhail's voice swelled with power.
Zev saw sparks light up the room. He frowned over the words Mikhail had uttered. "Our blood mingles and calls to you." He was mingling his blood with someone of power, that much was obvious from the way the columns throughout the room began to come alive. Several gave off glowing colors, although still very muted.
"Akasz enak ku es juttasz kuntatak it."
Zev interpreted again as the columns began to hum. "Heed our summons and join with us now." The columns throughout the room rocked, the multicolored crystals illuminating, throwing vivid, bright colors across the ceiling and over the walls of the chamber. The colors were so dazzling, Zev had to shade his sensitive eyes.
Crimson, emerald, a beautiful sapphire, the colors took on the strange phenomenon of the northern lights. The humming grew louder and he realized each took on a different note, a different pitch, the tone perfect to his ear. He hadn't noticed that the columns appeared to be totems with faces of warriors carved into the mineral, but now they came to life, the color adding expression and character.
Zev let out his breath slowly. These warriors were long dead. He was in a cave of the dead and Mikhail had summoned the ancient warriors to him for some purpose. Zev had a very bad feeling that he was part of that purpose.
"Ete tekaik, sageak ekaakanket. Cac3katlanak med, kutenken hank ekaakank tasa."
Zev swallowed hard when he translated. "We have brought before you our brothers, not born to us, but brothers just the same."
Zev had been born Lycan and he'd served his people for many long years as an elite hunter who traveled the world seeking out and destroying rogue wolves who preyed on mankind. He was one of the few Lycans who could hunt alone and be comfortable and confident doing so. Still, he was Lycan and he would always have the need to be part of a pack.
His own kind despised those of mixed blood. It mattered little that he became mixed blood giving service to his people. He'd been wounded in hundreds of battles and had lost far too much blood. Carpathian warriors had more than once come to his aid as they had done this last time.
Zev looked up to find Fen on one side of him and Dimitri on the other. The two De La Cruz brothers stood with the stranger between them.
Gregori and his brother stood on either side of Gary, who now was getting to his feet with Gregori's help. Zev took a breath. He would not be the only man sitting on his ass while the others stood. He was getting up or would die trying.
Zev let go of his lifeline, and the moment he did he nearly panicked--another thing men like him didn't do. He didn't want her to disappear. His eyes met hers. Don't you leave me.
She gave him a smile that could allow a man to live for the rest of his existence on fantasies. We are tied together, Zev. Where you go, I go. Only the ancients can undo a weave of the spirits.
Is that what this is about? He wasn't certain he wanted to continue if it was.
Not even the prince can ask for such a release. Only me. Or you.
She gave him the information, but he had the feeling she was a little reluctant. That suited him just fine. He wasn't willing to relinquish his bond with her just yet.
Fen, I don't have a stitch on and I want to stand up. I'm not going to lie in this grave like a baby. For the first time he realized he was absolutely naked and Branislava had been beside him the entire time holding his hand; even when his body had stirred to life she hadn't run from him.
At once he was clean, and clothed in soft trousers and an immaculate white shirt. He struggled to get to his feet. Fen and Dimitri both reached for him at the same time, preventing him from falling on his face and making a fool of himself. His legs were rubber, refusing to work properly. For a Lycan that was embarrassing, but for an elite hunter it was absolutely humiliating.
Mikhail looked over at him and nodded his approval, or maybe it was relief at him being alive. Zev wasn't certain yet if he was relieved or not.
"Aka sarnamad, en Karpatiiakak. Sageak kontaket tekaiked. Tajnak aka-arvonk es arwa-arvonk."
"Hear me, great ones. We bring these men to you, warriors all, deserving of our respect and honor." Zev translated the words carefully twice, just to make certain he was correctly interpreting the prince's discourse with the ancient warriors.
Gary, standing between the two Daratrazanoff brothers, straightened his shoulders as if feeling eyes on him. Zev was fairly certain that somehow, those spirits of the dead were watching all of them, perhaps judging their worth. Colors swirled into various hues and the notes blended together as if the ancient warriors questioned the prince.
"Gregori, es Darius katak Daratrazanoffak. Kontak sarnanak han agba nokunta ekaankal, Gary Jansen, han ku olenot kum, kutenken olen it Karpatii. Han pohoopa kus Karpatiikuntanak, partiolenaka es kontaka. Sageak hanet ete tekaik."
"Gregori and Darius of the great house of Daratrazanoff claim kinship with our brother, Gary Jansen, once human, now one of us. He has served our people tirelessly both in research and in battle. We bring him before you.'
Zev knew that aside from actually fighting alongside the Carpathians, Gary had done a tremendous amount of work for the Carpathians, and had lived among them for several years. It was obvious that every Carpathian in the chamber afforded him great respect, as did Zev. Gary had fought both valiantly and selflessly.
"Zacarias es Manolito katak De La Cruzak, kakta ena wakeva kontak. Kontak sarnanak han agba nokunta ekaankal, Luiz Silva, han ku olenot jaquar, kutenken olen it Karpatii. Luiz manet en elidaket, kor3nat elidaket avio palafertiilakjakak. Sageak hanet ete tekaik."
"Zacarias and Manolito from the house of De La Cruz, two of our mightiest warriors claim kinship with our brother, Luiz Silva, once jaguar, now Carpathian. Luiz saved the lives of two of their lifemates. We bring him before you."
Zev knew nothing of Luiz, but he had to admire anyone who could stand with Zacarias De La Cruz claiming kinship. Zacarias was not known for his kindness. Luiz had to be a great warrior to run with that family of Carpathians.
"Fen es Dimitri arwa-arvodkatak Tirunulak sarnanak han agba nokunta ekaankal, Zev Hunter, han ku olenot Susikum, kutenk
en olen it Karpatii. Torot palapala Karpatiikuntankal es piwtat es piwta mekeni sarna kunta jotkan Susikumkunta es Karpatiikunta. Sageak hanet ete tekaik."
"Fen and Dimitri from the noble house of Tirunul claim kinship with our brother, Zev Hunter, once Lycan, now Carpathian. He has fought side by side with our people and has sought to bring an alliance between Lycan and Carpathian. He is of mixed blood like those who claim kinship. We bring him before you."
There was no mistaking the translation. Mikhail had definitely called his name and indicated that Fen and Dimitri claimed brotherhood with him. He certainly had enough of their blood in him to be a brother.
The humming grew in volume and Mikhail nodded several times before turning to Gary. "Is it your wish to become fully a brother?"
Gary nodded without hesitation. Zev was fairly certain that, like him, Gary hadn't been prepped ahead of time. The answer had to come from within at the precise moment of the acting. There was no prepping. He didn't know what his own answer would be.
Gregori and Darius, with Gary between them, approached the crystal column, now swirling a dull red. Gregori dropped his hand, palm down, over the tip of the formation, allowing his blood to flow over that of the prince's.
"Place your hand over the sacred bloodstone and allow your blood to mingle with that of the ancients and that of your brothers," Mikhail instructed.
Gary moved forward slowly, his feet following the path so many warriors had walked before him. He placed his hand over the sharp tip and allowed his palm to drop. His blood ran down the crystal column, mixing with Gregori's.
Darius glided just behind him in the same silent, deadly way of his brother, and when Gary stepped back, Darius placed his palm over the tip of the bloodstone, allowing his blood to mingle with Mikhail's, Gregori's, Gary's and the ancient warriors who had gone before.
The hum grew louder, filling the chamber. Colors swirled, this time taking on hues of blue, green and purple.
Gary gave a little gasp and went silent, nodding his head as if he heard something Zev couldn't. Within minutes he stepped back and glanced over to the prince.
"It is done," Mikhail affirmed. "So be it."
The humming ceased, all those beautiful notes that created a melody of words only the prince could understand. The chamber went silent. Zev became aware of his heart beating too fast. He consciously took a breath and let it out. The tension and sense of anticipation grew.
"Is it your wish, Luiz, to become fully a brother?" Mikhail asked.
Zev took a long look at Zacarias and Manolito. The De La Cruz brothers were rather infamous. Taking on their family as kin would be daunting. Only a very confident and strong man would ever agree.
Luiz inclined his head and walked to the crystal bloodstone on his own, Zacarias and Manolito behind him. Clearly Luiz had not been wounded. He was physically fit and moved with the flow of a jungle cat.
Zacarias pierced his palm first, allowing his blood to flow down the stone, joining with the ancient warriors. At once the hum began, a low call of greeting, of recognition and honor. Colors swirled around the room as if the ancients knew Zacarias and his legendary reputation. They seemed to greet him as an old friend. There was no doubt in Zev's mind that the ancient warriors were paying tribute to Zacarias. Many had probably known him.
When the humming died down, Luiz stepped close to the stone and pierced his palm, his blood flowing into that of the eldest De La Cruz. Manolito came next and did the same so that the blood of all three mingled with that of the ancient warriors.
At once the humming of approval began again and the great columns of both stalagmites and stalactites banded with colors of white and yellow and bright red.
Luiz stood silent, very still, much as Gary had before him, and just as Gary, Luiz nodded his head several times. He looked up at Zacarias and Manolito and smiled for the first time.
"It is done," Mikhail murmured in a low tone of power that seemed to fill the chamber. "So be it."
Zev's mouth went dry. His heart began to pound. He felt tension gather low in his belly, great knots forming that he couldn't prevent. There was acceptance here--but there could also be rejection. He wasn't born Carpathian, but Fen and Dimitri were offering him so much more than that--they stood for him. Called him brother. If these ancient warriors accepted him, he would be truly both Carpathian and Lycan. He would have a pack of his own again. He would belong somewhere.
The feeling in the great chamber was very somber. The eloquence of the long dead slowly faded and he knew it was time. He had no idea what he would do when asked. None. He wasn't even certain his legs would carry him the distance, and he wasn't going to be carried to the bloodstone.
"Is it your wish, Zev, to become fully a brother?" Mikhail asked.
He felt the weight of every stare. Warriors all. Good men who knew battle. Men he respected. His feet wanted to move forward. He wanted to be a part of them. He was physically still very weak. What if he didn't measure up in their eyes?
You aren't weak, Zev. There is nothing weak about you.
Her voice moved through him like a breath of fresh air. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until she spoke so intimately to him. He let it out, braced himself and made his first move. Fen and Dimitri stayed close, not just to walk him to the bloodstone, but to make absolute certain he didn't fall on his face. Still, he was determined it wouldn't happen.
With every step he took on that worn stone floor he seemed to absorb the ancients who had gone before him. Their wisdom. Their technique in battle. Their great determination and sense of honor and duty. He felt information gathering in his mind, yet he couldn't quite process it. It was a great gift, but he couldn't access the data, and that left him even more concerned that he might be rejected. Somewhere, sometime, long ago, he felt he'd been in this sacred chamber. The longer he was in it, the more familiar to him it felt.
As he approached the crystal column, his heart accelerated even more. He felt sheer raw power emanating from the bloodstone. The formation pulsed with power, and each time it did, color banded, ropes of various shades of red, blood he knew had been collected from all the great warriors who were long gone from the Carpathian world, yet who, through the prince, could still aid their people. Mikhail understood their voices through those perfectly pitched notes.
Fen dropped his palm over the tip of the stalagmite. His blood ran down the sacred stone. The colors changed instantly, swirling with deep purple and dark red. He stepped back to allow Zev to approach the column.
Zev wasn't going to draw it out. Either they accepted him or they didn't. In his life, he couldn't remember a single time when he cared what others thought of him, but here, in the sacred chamber of warriors, he found it mattered much more than he wanted to admit. He dropped his palm over the sharp tip so that it pierced his skin and blood flowed over Fen's, mingling with the one who would be his brother, and with the great warriors of the past.
His soul stretched to meet those who had gone before. He was surrounded, filled with camaraderie, with acceptance, with belonging. His community dated back to ancient times, and those warriors of old called out to him in greeting. As they did, the flood of information through his brain, adhering to his memories, was both astonishing and overwhelming.
Zev was a man who observed every detail of his surroundings. It was one of the characteristics that had allowed him to become an elite hunter. Now, everything seemed even sharper and more vivid to him. Every warrior's heart in the chamber from ancient to modern times matched the drumming of the earth's heart. Blood ebbed and flowed in their veins, matching the flow of the ancients' blood within the crystal, but also the ebb and flow of water throughout their earth.
Dimitri dropped his palm over the crystal and, at once, Zev felt the mingling of their blood, the kinship that ran deeper than friendship. His history and their history became one, stretching back to ancient times. Information was cumulative, amassing in his mind at a rapid rate. With it came the heavy respons
ibility of his kind.
The humming grew loud, and he recognized now what those notes meant--approval, acceptance without reserve. Colors swirled and banded throughout the room. Those ancient warriors recognized him, recognized his bloodline, not just the blood of Fen and Dimitri who claimed kinship, but his own, born of a union not all Lycan.
Bur tule ekamet kuntamak. The voices of the ancestors filled his mind with greetings. Well met, brother-kin. Elasz jelabam ainaak. Long may you live in the light.
Zev had no knowledge of his lineage being anything but pure Lycan. His mother had died long before he had memory of her. Why would these warriors claim kinship with him through his own bloodline and not Fen and Dimitri's? That made no sense to him.
Our lives are tied together by our blood. They spoke to him in their own ancient language and he had no trouble translating it, as if the language had always been a part of him and he had just needed the ancients to bridge some gap in his memory for it all to unfold.
I don't understand. That was an understatement. He was more confused than ever.
Everything, including one's lifemate, is determined by the blood flowing in our veins. Your blood is Dark blood. You now are of mixed blood, but you are one of us. You are kont o sivanak.
Strong heart, heart of a warrior. It was a tribute, but it didn't tell him what he needed to know.
Who was my mother? That was the question he needed answered. If Carpathian blood already flowed in his veins, how was it he hadn't known?
Your mother's mother was fully Carpathian. Lycan's killed her for being Sange rau. Her daughter, your mother, was raised wholly Lycan. She mated with a Lycan, and gave birth to you, a Dark blood. You are kunta.
Family, he interpreted. From what bloodline? How? Zev knew he was taking far longer than either Gary or Luiz had, but he didn't want to leave this source of information. His father never once let on that there was any Carpathian blood in their family. Had he known? Had his mother even known? If his grandmother had been murdered by the Lycans for her mixed blood, no one would ever admit that his mother had been the child of a mixed blood. The family would have hidden her from the others. Most likely her father had left his pack and found another one to protect her.