Stone of Ascension by Lynda Aicher Page A

indifference she had tried to hold crumbled under the sudden proclamation and revelations. She tried to lunge for him, to get his attention, but strong hands grabbed her and held her back.
    “ Damian ,” she yelled again. Maybe it was the desperation in her voice or the rising panic, but his gaze suddenly snapped to hers, pulled from whatever deep recess of thought he’d been trapped in. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he looked at her. His face hardened, anger quickly dominating his features.
    Was he mad at her? What had she done? He was the one who had betrayed her . Who brought her here to be judged and probably executed.
    She struggled against the arms that were pulling her away. Whatever their intent, it couldn’t be good. The words slanderer, lies, evil, cellars, circled in her mind. These people clearly thought the mark was bad. That she was evil.
    “Amber!” Damian’s roar echoed over the crowd, stunning everyone into brief silence and stillness. Damian took the opportunity and lunged for her.
    Even though the man had lied to her, abducted her and brought her here in the first place, Amber reached for him. She stretched her arms as far as she could and pulled against her captors.
    She had to reach Damian. Just touch him.
    The energy rolled within her like fire and ice, counter forces slamming against each other. The stone raged against her chest, adding its own energy to the mix of churning powers.
    Power.
    She felt full of unleashed power. Yet she couldn’t get away from the hands that held her. Her struggles were weak attempts compared to the strength that continued to pull her farther away from Damian.
    “Damn it!” Damian yelled as two guards grabbed his arms and stopped his advance. “Leave her alone. She’s done nothing wrong. She’s innocent.”
    No one heeded his words, but her heart soared foolishly.
    “If she is truly the Marked One, then she is not innocent,” the man who had judged them countered. Their persecutor stood calmly in the midst of the scene that had broken out around them. He was cloaked in a long white robe that, when paired with the straight white hair and beard, presented a classic image of a mystical ruler and only made the entire day’s events seem even more preposterous.
    “But I am,” Amber insisted, refusing to give up. “I’m not evil. I have no idea what any of you are talking about. You have to believe me.”
    “We don’t have to believe anything,” the mystical man said. “The white bird tells us everything we need to know.”
    Damian was on his knees, forced down by the men who held him. But he still fought for release, his focus never leaving her. “It’s fake. I put it on her hand. Judge me, not her.”
    His lie only made Amber struggle more. “I am innocent of evil, but the mark is real.” The truth came out before she could second-guess the wisdom of it. She wouldn’t let Damian be crucified for something that wasn’t true.
    The hold on her arms tightened, and she could not hold back the slight whimper that escaped as the pain raced into her shoulder.
    Damian surged to his feet. “Let her go.”
    His eyes flashed with a menace of pure hate. His arms whipped out, thrusting off the hold of the two men who held him down. He executed a spin kick and punch that rivaled the best karate master and halted the advance of two more guards. His fluid movements were an odd contrast to the stiff executive attire he still wore.
    She was almost at the entrance of the chamber when Damian broke free of the onslaught of attackers and raced toward her. Her hopes rose, and she fought harder against her own restraints. The energy pooled and centered deep in her chest behind the stone. She felt the power radiate outward, extending to every fiber of her body.
    She called on that power and reached her hand out toward Damian. The hand with the bird. The damned cursed mark that had started everything.
    Right before Damian reached her, more guards tackled him from behind.