Mayan Blood by Theresa Dalayne Page B

“What is that?”
    “Stop asking questions and sit.” She jabbed her finger at a log positioned near the fire pit.
    Over the years he’d learned not to question her. Arwan sat, embracing the warmth of the fire as it reached out to his skin.
    “Tell me.” Drina groaned as she sat across from him. “What of the guardian?”
    “We’ve found her. But you already knew that. She doesn’t have much knowledge about—”
    “No.” Drina scowled. “Tell me what you see.”
    Arwan drew his brows together. “What do you mean?”
    “When you look at her, boy. Do you see somet’ing others do not?”
    “What am I supposed to see?”
    She peered at him from across the fire, her irises reflecting the red and orange flames. “Everyt’ing has a balance.” She pressed her fingers into the stone bowl and scooped out some of the runny mixture. “Breathe deep, boy. Breathe deep, and do not fight the journey.” She flicked the mixture into the fire. It sizzled against the glowing embers. Smoke rose with the flames and mixed with the wind.
    Arwan closed his eyes and took in the scent of burnt herbs and ground flowers. With every deep inhale, his mind wandered into a neutral space, as if he were falling into a deep sleep. He hadn’t meditated for a very long time.
    His mother’s voice echoed in the distance. She hummed a tune, then stopped and let out a soft laugh. “The world is a mysterious place, my beautiful boy.” His chest tightened and his heart tore open with new, scalding pain. He had spent countless nights trying to remember her voice.
    He blinked open his eyes to see her sitting across from him, where Drina sat just moments ago. She was exactly as she appeared in the sketches hung on his bedroom wall—the only clear memory of her had to keep her from slipping away completely.
    “Listen to Drina, would you, son?” She tilted her head, a soft smile playing over her lips. “She was a dear friend to me. Even if she is a bit…” She crinkled her nose. “Difficult.”
    “Mother?” The word came out in a whisper. He hardly recognized his own voice. He stood and walked toward her. When he reached the other side of the fire, she was gone.
    “And stop punishing yourself.” He turned. She stood on the other side of the flames. “You don’t deserve to live in such agony.”
    The sharp reminder of what he was pushed to the surface. “You don’t know who I am. Not really.”
    “A mother knows her son better than he knows himself.” Her voice was right behind him. He spun around, meeting her face to face. “And you, my dear boy…” She gently ran her fingers through his hair. “The guardian is the answer to my prayers for you. Embrace her. Protect her at all costs. Keep her close, and most importantly, do not fight your destiny.”
    He lifted his hand to touch her cheek, only for his fingers to pass through her. A texture like cobwebs broke against his skin as he dropped his hand to his side. “I don’t understand.”
    “You will. In time.” She smiled, which sucked the breath straight from his lungs. He had forgotten how beautiful she was when she smiled.
    His hands shook. “How will I know what’s right and good when…” He balled his fists. “When something dark lingers inside me.”
    “With darkness comes light.” She stepped back, creating distance between them.
    He reached out to her. “Wait.”
    She smiled. “With darkness comes light,” she said again.
    “I don’t know what that means.” He stepped toward her, but she vanished into the darkness.
    His vision blurred and his head spun. His knees buckled, and he fell to the damp, jungle ground. He grabbed handfuls of soil and twigs, crushing them in his fists.
    “I said, do not fight it.” Drina’s familiar voice said from behind him.
    Arwan’s breath was ragged. “How long have you been able to contact her?”
    Drina paused before she answered. “Many years.”
    He ground his teeth, fighting the darkness that clawed through him