Breathe (The Destiny Series: Book 1) by Christine Grey Read Free Book Online Page B

seemed almost plain by comparison, until one’s eyes took in the gem at the very end. About the size of a duck’s egg, and the color a vibrant gold, it had a single, onyx streak flashing through its center, giving it the look of a cat’s eye. When one deliberately turned the blade, be it to the left or the right, a subtle change occurred—the flaw in the center of the stone seemed to shift, moving slightly, as if scanning the room around it. After sitting for so long on the stone floor in Daniel’s room, the blade should have been cold, or at least cool to the touch, but like Majin so many years ago, Daniel felt an almost uncomfortable warmth emanating from the hilt of the great weapon. He gently replaced the sword to its previous position in the box, shut the lid, and went in search of Dearra.
    ***
    Dearra strolled through the gnarn trees, following the well-worn path deeper into the forest at a leisurely pace. She scolded herself that she should be preparing for the upcoming battle, but really, what more could she do but wait? It might be weeks yet, before the Breken arrived. Her friend, Carly, had already left for the mainland. The caves were stocked and ready for the children and the few adult Maj who would not be joining in the coming fight. Weapons were polished, and armor was oiled and repaired.
    Dearra walked steadily toward the towering pine. It was hard to imagine it as the pretty little tree from last night’s story. It loomed over her, pushing its way through the gnarn trees around it, until it broke past their canopy of twisted branches and flew heavenward. Little animals scuffled and scurried through the ground clutter, searching for the hard cones that dropped from the tree, and plundered the nuts held within.
    Dearra wrapped her arms around the trunk of one of the nearby trees, resting her head against the comforting and familiar feel of the bark. She took a deep breath to steady herself, knowing this was where she belonged, but the tension within her continued to build, nevertheless. On top of that, her hand still ached and burned uncomfortably. She almost wished she were with Carly so she would have someone with which to share her thoughts.
    Carly was the same age as Dearra. They had grown up together. Carly was everything Dearra was not: quiet, even tempered, and ever-patient. She had soft, brown hair and soft, brown eyes. Slender and smaller than Dearra, she was often the one chosen to send messages to the mainland. Her serene and comforting manner ensured she would both bring and send accurate information, and not let heightened emotions taint her views. She was the perfect sounding board for Dearra, calming her when she had worked herself into an agitated frenzy, and help her to see the situation more clearly. Dearra missed the steady strength of her friend, especially now, as she felt helpless in her efforts to control the thoughts whipping and whirling within her.
    Dearra wasn’t afraid of the immanent battle exactly, she was just more edgy than she could ever remember being before a fight. Of course, the fact that the Breken represented fear, itself, to most Maj, and were also the source of most of their nightmares might have had something to do with it. It wasn’t about the fight, but about the sheer terror of losing loved ones. These enemies came, specifically, to make off with as many slaves as possible, and to kill as many of the rest as they could on the way out. It was destruction and death for no other reason than to satiate their bloodlust and greed. Plus, from what she had been told, the Breken had their own magical abilities. Oh, they fought with weapons just as the Maj did, but they could also call upon ancient magic to aid them in battle. Most powers were subtle, such as being able to twist the light around themselves, just enough so they would appear to be standing in a slightly different spot than where they actually were, or to move with blinding speed, long enough to pop up