Warrior Rising - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,78

- and would - risk anything.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax and let the power take him. But nothing happened. He was locked too tightly in the battle. He had to let go. Not literally. Not of the draggon stone, at any rate. He had to let go of his fierce control.

He took another breath, letting it out slowly. Then another. And another. Little by little, he relinquished that iron control that had formed the structure of his life for so long. Little by little, the energy broke through.

Finally, on a hard exhalation, those tight muscles that comprised his will gave way. The energy shot through him like a lightning bolt, spinning him end over end in a terrifying whirl of chaos and pain. The kaleidoscope all over again, only this time he'd become the spinning lights as if he'd been blasted into a million pieces - a million pulsing, radiant pieces.

All at once, his physical senses shut down, taking the pain with them. No longer was he flesh and blood, a living organism. He was light and energy. Wind and nature. Everywhere and nowhere. The universe. And nothing.

Lost.

Gone.

For one grief-filled moment he thought he'd died. He'd failed, leaving Ilaria and Charlie and the others to battle an unwinnable war alone.

Then everything changed. He came back to himself in a rush, his blood fizzing and bubbling, strength pouring through his limbs and body. His senses returned twice as strong as before. His sense of smell sharper, his hearing keener.

His vision cleared, revealing the barrier like an oil spill, plain as day.

"Harrison?" Ilaria held his face in her hands, her expression a mix of shock and wonder. Tears sprang to her eyes, a smile lifting her glorious mouth.

Love rushed up inside him so strongly he thought it might tear apart his chest. He grabbed her and kissed her, sharing his love, his strength, and drawing both in return. The realization flowed through him, rocking him to his core. Love. She loved him in return.

And when he pulled back and stared into her soft, tender eyes, he knew it was true.

He stroked her cheek with his knuckles, his mouth spreading into a rare smile. "I feel like I swallowed the sun and survived."

Her eyes widened. "More than survived it, I think."

"Jesus, Harrison," Charlie exclaimed. "Your eyes are glowing. And your hair's standing on end. What in the hell just happened?"

Harrison turned to his brother, a smile bursting from him, uncontainable. "I'm not entirely sure. But it's time to find out."

He grabbed Ilaria's hand. "Let's open this thing."

She eyed him with excitement and curiosity. "Someone's told you how?"

"Not in so many words. I just know we have to do it together. Put one hand on the barrier, keep one linked with mine."

The wind whipped at near hurricane force as he stepped up to the barrier. The unknown. But this time he didn't hesitate. The power whispered to him, telling him this was what he'd been born for.

As one, they slammed their palms against the barrier.

"Break it with your mind," he told her. Then turned his own will against the oil slick that separated them from Rith. A creaking groan ripped across the mountain, an inhuman sound like a piece of wood straining against breakage. He pressed his power, pitting his strength indirectly against Rith's, and felt the wall beneath his palm shatter with a horrible screech. Shimmering shards of oil slick flew in every direction, a colorful display he sensed only he could see.

"We're through!" Charlie crowed.

Harrison met Ilaria's triumphant gaze, then as one, they turned and ran. Moments later they crested the rise that overlooked the Temple of the Ancients a hundred yards below.

Like the other structures he'd seen in Esria, this one had no roof and no walls. Carved from blood-red marble, the temple consisted of little more than two rings of intricately carved columns - one set within the other. Between the rings of columns, the marble floor of the temple dipped several feet, creating a wide trough.

At the center of the inner circle rose a cone-shaped tower of stairs rising to a round platform some thirty feet in the air. It was here that Rith stood, his hands in the air, his hair whipping around his head. Above his fingertips, flying in a tight, fast circle were the six stones of Orisis.

Harrison's heightened senses took in the situation in an instant - the five royal guards circling the temple, two of them cocking arrows at the intruders.

"Incoming."