Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

was a drumbeat, echoing throughout the network of caves. Calling to something. Awakening something. The deeper they had come into the caverns, the louder and more insistent the dripping water.
    The sound of water swelled until it was a booming pulse, a constant irritating reminder they were trapped beneath hundreds of feet of ice. Vikirnoff glanced toward the small pool forming at the base of one of the columns. The pool should have been a clear liquid, but it was discolored, a faint rusty-brown. Like mud. Or old blood. Drops of water ran down the column and fell into the puddle. With each drop the surface shook. The shock waves seemed to travel outward to encompass the chamber itself so that cavern shook slightly with each drop.
    Something glittered in the depths of the puddle, something dark and lurking just below the murky surface. Peering down into the oily mess, Natalya thought something stared back at her with red, glowing eyes. A dark shadow slithered through the rusty-brown waters. She jumped back. "That can't be good."
    "Get away from there," Vikirnoff warned. "Whoever or whatever the water is calling, we want no part of."
    Natalya moved closer to the collection of spheres. One glittering crystal globe, a full foot in diameter, rested on a tower of black obsidian. Natalya held out her hands, palms not touching the crystal, but shaping the curve of the globe. At once she felt the tremendous drawing as it leapt to life at her close proximity.
    Can you feel that? The heat ? She tried to pull back, but couldn't look away. Mists swirled inside, pulling her—drawing her—commanding her to take hold.
    Natalya, no ! But Vikirnoff's warning was too late. Even as he leapt forward to pull her away from the crystal ball, she grasped it in both hands.

Chapter 8
    Natalya screamed, the sound of agony ripping through the long ice cavern. Her fingers welded to the crystal ball, burning until she thought her skin would peel back to the bone.
    Vikirnoff leapt to pull her back, but her voice protested in his mind. No! You cannot touch me. It is consuming me. It cannot take you, too, or I have no way back .
    Swearing aloud he dropped his hands to his sides. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from yanking her into his arms. Breathing deep, ignoring the constant sound of the water booming and echoing through the chamber, he concentrated on holding Natalya's essence to him.
    I can't do this. It burns, Vikirnoff. I can't think because of the pain.
    He felt agony sweeping through her body, the wrenching at her bones and flesh, as if the ball drew her out of the world she inhabited and into the turbulence of the crystal globe itself. Setting his teeth, he took the brunt of the pain from her. Immediately his skin beaded with blood and it dripped from his brow into his eyes. You are both Carpathian and mage.
    You command the earth and the air and you are unusually strong. Get what you came for and get out .
    Natalya took a deep breath as the pain lessened. It was the confidence in his voice, the respect he afforded her, that allowed her to go beyond her physical body and reach for her mage training. Her body was nothing, a shell, no more than that. Her spirit was stronger than the whirling winds tearing at her flesh. She rose above the pain, above the terror and found her strength.
    Colors swirled around her, midnight blues, glittering stars, streaks of light like comets trailing across the sky. Galaxies and star systems shot by her at a dizzying speed, twined together briefly and arced apart with a shower of sparks falling like rain. She found herself staring in wonder, in awe, aware the future lay in that direction. She could find a thread, one that was hers and follow it and know what was waiting. The temptation was strong. It was dazzlingly beautiful, impressive and the idea of knowing what lay ahead was difficult to resist.
    Throughout the midnight blue sky lightning forked repeatedly, flashing like a neon sign, drawing her attention. She realized she was being pulled in that direction, her spirit traveling along one of the zigzagging threads. She pulled back. At once the draw fought with her, tugging and tugging, beguiling her with glimpses of her future. She steadfastly refused to look, instinctively fearing once pulled into the realm of the future, she might not find her way back. And what she sought could not possibly lie in that direction.
    Ropes of various colored pearls whirled around her, carried by