Ascension Read online

  Mac nodded. “That is quiet a rare ability. Being around someone like that must make it hard to hide the memories you’re ashamed of.”

  Chance sighed. “Yeah.”

  Mac focused on Chance. “You have a lot of memories you would like to forget? Who do they belong to?”

  Chance lifted his head to respond. “Some are mine, but the worst are all linked to him.”

  “Him who?”

  A bitter expression soured Chance’s face. “He’s the one that was responsible for the suffering that hurt all of us. Even Lifen and Batukhan.”

  Mac sat in silence while he digested the information. A strange expression crossed his face. “When a shifter is killed, their energy can fuse to another’s if they’re close enough. That energy holds the memories and personality from the dead shifter. Voices that are absorbed more than once usually go silent after being diluted too much. This gives me a lot to think about, but regardless of this new information, I think it would be good for your healing to discover who he is. To do this, I want you to focus on the candle in meditation. You probably have far more memories and experiences hidden away in your mind than you are even aware of. I will guide you in unlocking what you’re looking for.” He reached out and touched Ana’s knee. “If he becomes distressed, you could offer him some of your healing energy to soothe him. Be thankful there’re no lit branches available.”

  “Haha. What do I get today for this new torture?” Chance asked, “An ice cream cake?”

  Mac laughed. “I thought I was the funny one. What would you like for a reward?”

  Ana reached out to hold Chance’s hand. “Could we go flying together, just the two of us?”

  “If that’s what our patient wants,” Mac answered. He looked at Chance. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  They all stared at the flickering candle flame and Ana took a deep breath. Although they were being relatively upbeat about what they were about to do, she knew it would be agonizing for Chance.

  Mac’s deep voice broke the quiet. “Chance, please stare at the candle. Take a deep breath and allow it to stir in your lungs before letting the air out slow, counting to ten.” He waited for Chance’s exhalation before continuing, “Do this again and this time, let your mind be free of any thoughts. Only concentrate on the flame and the sound of my voice. With every breath you should feel your body growing heavier, sinking into the cushion beneath you.”

  He stopped talking. Mac glanced at Ana and gave a slight nod. She was ready to help if Chance needed it.

  “You should feel very relaxed now. Safe. What we want you to do is find the identity of the person who held you hostage in your own mind. Find his memories. One that will reveal to you who he is. Knowing this information will help you disassociate yourself from his actions.”

  Chance’s eyes drooped while he stared at the candle. Steady breaths made his chest rise and fall. Ana watched him carefully, waiting for a change in temperament.

  Without warning, a vision touched her thoughts. Like looking through the bottom of a glass, the edges were fuzzy, but the center was clear. Similar to what she’d seen yesterday, the setting was familiar to her. It was dusk; soft light infused her surroundings in a peachy glow. Her small, furry hands pressed against warm tile as she peered over the edge of a slanted roof. A monkey’s tail curled over her shoulder, surprising her.

  Voices rose up from the lush garden below. Fruit trees, flowers and bushes filled the beautiful atrium. A man dressed in purple robes, Nikator, whom she’d seen in a previous vision, was talking to his servant.

  “There was a cave-in on the build site. I will be out for the evening.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Nikator rushed from view and the manservant disappeared further into the dwelling. The familiar deep voice she’d heard in Chance’s dreams and from the vision yesterday filled her head, Nikator’s leaving his domus at last. I thought he’d never leave his stolen treasure.

  Her furry body lifted off the roof tile, leapt through the air and into the branches of a nearby fig tree. She clung on until the swaying stopped and eased herself to the ground, wary of her surroundings. The servant had gone out of view and there was no sign of Nikator. She peered across the garden to a closed door.

  Without a second thought, she hurried over to it and the tingly sensation from shapeshifting came over her. Her body rose high into the air and she was no longer only a few feet tall. Her tan hand reached out to push open the door. She slipped inside and latched it behind her while the sound of a rapid heartbeat filled Ana’s ears.

  Her cheek and ear pressed against the wood, listening for footfalls. She only heard silence. This is too easy.

  Straightening, she looked around the room. It was completely dark, although her heightened vision was able to cut through the gloom. An oil lamp sat on a nearby table. She lit it. A small flame bloomed, illuminating the room. A wooden bed sat at the center of the space and the table she’d found the lamp on stretched halfway along the length of the room. Papers covered it, although she didn’t seem to be interested in them. Where is it?

  Then she saw what she was looking for. The golden box was partially obscured by papers and sat within an open cloth bag. She lifted it out and brought it closer to her face. Intricate designs and symbols were etched into its faces. It didn’t mean anything to Ana, although she noted the clear design of a tree with a person to its left and an animal to its right. To the right of those symbols, a bird in flames rose above a hill.

  Again, the man’s thoughts echoed though her head, The eternal bird. What is Nikator up to?

  She set down the golden box and raised a stack of papers close to her nose. Letters and words were scrawled in a different language, although despite that fact, Ana seemed to know exactly what it read.

  Signs of the ancient civilization are throughout the City of the Sun: pottery chards, bones and the most obvious of all, the impressive stones that are now the base of the building site of the Temple of Jupiter. Item located in northeast quadrant of site, deep in a small chamber, the width of a man. Symbols of the phoenix led me to the location. Still no sign of what happened to this great culture.

  A yellowed glass jewel was contained within the box, but there is no indication of its importance. Carvings on the lid of the box suggest a process, or first phase to eternal life. The transformer must consume the poisonous fall blooms of the female cedar, then mutate into the form of a goat to metabolize the toxins properly.

  It is unclear what this procedure unlocks in the transformer, but the question is raised that once this ritual is completed, would you be one step closer to life eternal and the power of a god?

  Must test the chemical components before ingestion. Could be dangerous.

  Excitement built up within her. They weren’t her own feelings of curiosity and lust for power, but her host’s. His greed over the golden box quickly morphed. He wanted more.

  Hidden behind the guise of managing the construction of the temple, Nikator’s really searching for the power of the Gods. Why seek gold and wealth when you can have ultimate power? How can I let another Roman take what isn’t his?

  Ana set the papers down, reached for the golden box and fumbled with the latch. Inside, dried flakes that looked like tiny ovals of tissue filled the base. A tear-shaped, yellowed stone slid around and she plucked it out. Then she tipped the box sideways, cupped her hand and collected an ample amount of the plant matter.

  Courage is necessary when striving for greatness.

  She emptied the dried particles into her mouth and she tried to swallow as much as she could. When she began to choke, she reached for a cup and pitcher. Water sloshed over her hand as she poured too much. She gulped down mouthfuls, clearing her airway and swallowing most of the petals. Bits remained in her mouth, but her host didn’t seem to care. Stone still, she waited for something to happen.

  It began with stomach pains that pulled her muscles tight. She stumbled to the bed and sat dow
n. Blue lines of mapping traced her thoughts; then a prickling sensation covered her body. She tipped forward, onto all fours. Tanned fingers merged together into dark hooves and fur sprouted down her arms. Her perspective of the room changed; she was now able to see a panoramic view of her surroundings.

  Relieved, Ana noticed her stomach pains had begun to decrease, although threatening rumbles gurgled from her digestive tract. Things settled down after many minutes passed and her host decided to shift back to human form when he thought it was safe. I feel no different. Maybe the ancients are dead because they tried to eat cedar flowers. At least I still have the golden box. I can sell it in Damascus and make my fortune before Nikator will ever find me.

  Ana was beginning to think the memory was a bust when the bedroom door opened to reveal Nikator. Confusion clouded his face and then a frightening sneer lifted the corners of his mouth. He stepped inside the room and shut the door.

  “Well, well. A street urchin with enough stupidity to think he can steal from me? I could have you charged with furtum, but I don’t believe I want a thief for a slave.”

  Nikator rested his hand on the hilt of the dagger strung to his belt. He took a few steps forward and glanced at the table. A splotch of water had smeared the writing on one of his papers. His finger dabbed at the mark and he paused when he noticed the golden box opened, its contents scattered about.

  “What have you been up to, boy?” A tinge of fury curdled his voice and his fingers wrapped tight around the handle of his dagger.

  For the first time, Ana heard the voice of her host aloud. “I’m avenging the spirit of my father and doing what I was born to do—to be.”

  “You want to become a daemon among the living?” The veins in Nikator’s neck bulged as he continued. “Someone as foolish as a common street thief could not know the beginning of this knowledge and should be wise not to play with fire.”

  “Said from the one who stole it from its proper resting place. It wasn’t meant for Roman thieves.”

  Nikator’s face flashed with anger. “I would like to know the name of the child I am about to slay.”

  “You want to call me a daemon, Daemon I will be.”

  The memory’s host scanned every corner of the room. He sought the cracks in the door and thought, I cannot fit even as a rat. I cannot escape. I must fight.

  Without pause, the tracings of a beast etched through Ana’s mind and she shifted back onto all fours. Her sharp teeth snapped at the air while her muzzle pulled back.

  Nikator whooped. “Great fun—a wolf! I thought I’d felt the energy of another transformer nearby.” He unbuckled his belt, setting it and his dagger on the floor. Clapping his hands together, he said, “This will be good sport.”

  The man shrank down onto his hands and knees as dark, wiry fur sprouted across his body. Large tusks curled out from his mouth and thick teeth came down from his jaw. The animal half squealed and snarled before charging at Daemon.

  She attempted to leap over the boar, but the tusks caught her as she arced through the air. Ana’s stomach went queasy. The pain in Daemon’s gut was so real she felt like throwing up. She panted and tried to focus on the real world around her. After glancing at Chance, who was gripping the floor with his hands, it was clear that he was having the same kind of physical experience as she was.

  Was this what it had been like for him every time he’d experienced a memory like this? She couldn’t dwell on the thought, because the vision hadn’t paused for her. Ana crumpled to the floor and shifted into a snake. She slithered straight for the boar.

  Feel the sting of my poison.

  She struck at the wild pig’s legs, which didn’t seem to concern the beast. It tiptoed away. In the blink of an eye, Nikator shifted back into human form and grabbed his dagger. Ana watched in slow motion as Nikator’s arm swung downward toward her rope-like body. The blade cut through scale, flesh and bone.

  Bright light swirled all around. As though she were magnetized, Ana was pulled, pushed or possibly thrown at amazing speed to a single point. Ethereal and bodiless, she was weightless. It reminded her of the moments after her death when she soared high above the mountains, free of her body. She felt Daemon almost anchor and claw himself into a safe place.

  The sensation ended with sudden finality and she found herself standing again, not as the bleeding, beheaded snake lying on the brown, tiled floor, but something much taller. Tan arms lifted to her face and the dagger in her hand clattered to the ground.

  Chills erupted down Ana’s back. The scene faded away and she searched for Chance’s face. He was sitting beside her with his eyes pinched shut. She’d been distracted from her assigned task; to keep him soothed while he recalled buried memories. Rushing to culminate her energy, she pushed it out to him, eager to calm his nerves and hers as well.

  “Are you okay?” Mac’s voice startled her and it appeared to do the same to Chance.

  Glints of hazel appeared from behind his lids. Chance fumbled to grasp Ana’s hand in his and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Usually I only have memories of people I know, but nothing was familiar.”

  Mac was eager for more information. “Any idea whose memory it was? Have a guess of time and place?”

  Gentle, but persistent pounding settled at the base of her head and in her temples. Ana rubbed her forehead. “I know I was supposed to be watching Chance, but it happened again. I saw what he was seeing. City of the Sun, does that sound right? It was Roman times, but I don’t have a guess on how far back it was.”

  It had been similar to the vision she’d had yesterday. She must have channeled it from Chance, but he hadn’t admitted it. A man’s cries had preceded those memories. He’d been upset when he rushed out of the meditation room. She decided not to press him.

  Chance brushed his hair back out of his eyes and said with a shaky voice, “It must have been in the neighborhood of two thousand years. Give or take a couple hundred.”

  “Did you get a name?” Mac asked.

  Ana and Chance stared at each other and said in unison, “Daemon.”

  Mac grinned, his teeth shone bright between his lips. “That is great news. Now, Chance, you can place responsibility with this Daemon instead of yourself. It was Daemon’s personality that compelled you to knock me out and Daemon that wanted to consume Ana.”

  Chance shook his head. “No, he didn’t want to consume Ana, he wanted Ana to consume him.”

  Mac’s grin faltered for a moment before he asked, “Tell me more about what you saw in the memory.”

  Chance described everything he’d seen. While he spoke, Ana watched Mac’s reaction. His face grew stony and still. When Chance finished, Mac whispered, “I see.”

  “What’s wrong? What did Daemon mean about an eternal soul?” Ana asked.

  Mac exhaled and his lips curled up at the edges. He waved his hand, saying in a bright tone, “It’s nothing. It is no longer your problem. What I want you to focus on, Chance, is that it wasn’t you. Do you understand? The actions you’re ashamed of were not carried out by you, but were encouraged by the voice of Daemon. You should be prepared now to let go of the memories that haunt you, because they are not yours to own. They are Daemon’s.” He cupped his hand on Chance’s shoulder. “This is a good day. So good, that I will reveal another ingredient for the Three Sister’s Soup. It is against my better judgment, but you have earned it. Fresh wild onions must be used in the broth, to give it kick, just like the eldest sister.”

  Chance offered Mac a smile, but Ana could tell it was put on. She knew him too well. Plus, she could feel the emotions pouring from him. He wasn’t paying attention to Mac, but something else. He was angry.

  “I think you earned your reward. Did you want to go flying with Ana? Go ahead and have some fun. But be back for lunch. I’ll have something prepared for you.”

  “Thanks, Mac. We appreciate it, really.” Ana got up slowly, trying to ignore her headache, and helped Chance to his feet. She wanted to get him out of the hou
se to see if she could find out what was on his mind and put him at ease.

  Her fingers linked around his and she led him to the front door. The cold air licked at her skin, pulling it taut. She shut the heavy door behind them and faced Chance.

  “What’s up?”

  His hazel eyes met hers and he frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “What are you angry about?” After she fired the question at him she recalled Batukhan’s advice to give Chance space and not to push him. She decided to follow her instincts instead.

  His jaw clenched while he growled. “What makes you think I’m angry?”

  Ana raised an eyebrow. “Really? I know you. And I can feel your anger like it’s my own. I bet I could find out if I really wanted to, but I’d rather you tell me what’s up. It didn’t make you feel any better knowing who was poisoning your thoughts for so long?”

  A dark expression came over him. He clutched his face with his hands, groaned and then turned away to lean against the deck’s railing. “I’m pissed that some bodiless jerk almost ruined my life. I’m angry that I was separated from you for so long. You don’t know what it’s like getting hijacked like that and being forced to see and do things against your will.”

  Her heart broke for him. Chance liked to be in control of any given situation. He was strong bodied and powerful. But the shifter sickness had weakened his mind and turned him into something or someone else. Daemon had made his mark on them all.

  “I got a little taste of what it’s like seeing those memories in your head, but no, I have no idea what it was like for you. Markus kidnapped me, took me against my will, but he wasn’t in my head—thank God. Daemon’s voice is gone. His memories may be around, but he isn’t. I know you won’t let him get the better of you. You’re too stubborn and tough for that. Don’t let him ruin this moment.” Ana cupped his cheeks in her hands and made him turn to face her. “This is your moment. It was him and not you who was responsible for lifetimes of suffering. And we ended it together. He or the sickness can’t hurt us again. Don’t give him any more power over you. This is your life. And we’re going to do something I’ve dreamt of since I knew you could fly.”