Soul of the Dragon by Natalie J. Damschroder

Author:Natalie J. Damschroder [Damschroder, Natalie J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Amazon: B009ZUXFVM
Publisher: Dragonsoul Books
Published: 2012-10-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Finding retreat the smarter of his potential choices, Tars gave his sister a business excuse and flew back to St. Paul. He went straight to Dragonsoul headquarters and took the executive elevator to the penthouse apartment behind his office. Dealing with business—or Mark—was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

When he was finally completely alone and confident he wouldn’t be disturbed, he changed from his rumpled travel wear and put on the loose-fitting cotton pants and v-necked shirt he wore when practicing the Eastern arts. Some of their disciplines enabled him to refocus and regenerate more quickly.

He began with simple meditation and moved into his favorite yoga positions. Once his body felt relaxed and limber, he sat in the center of the floor and closed his eyes.

He could still see the room around him, but now he also saw a dark box containing swirls of white energy, coils drifting like cirrus clouds above and behind him. He counted six heat sinks, pockets that attracted the thermal energy. But though he searched and searched, and tried to reprogram his mind to detect something he hadn’t known was there, he couldn’t see any water energy.

He knew it existed, intellectually. The earth balanced herself, so if there was fire-based energy, there had to be water-based energy as well. The wisps of white were atmospheric—of air—while rare clumps of earthen energy collected on the ground. Tars had discovered and used it all. The water energy had eluded him, however. Apparently, it would continue to do so.

He rose and walked barefoot to his kitchenette. It was possible there was none in his apartment, but he suspected that wasn’t the problem.

He needed another mage, he thought, pouring orange juice from a crystal decanter in the refrigerator. But the only person he trusted at all was Mark, and the man had no knowledge of Tars’ true powers, never mind any magical talents of his own. He’d have to find some other way to combat whatever Alexa had in store for him.

It felt quite foreign to be in need of training.

When Tars had been a young child, he’d thrown typical toddler tantrums, with unusual results. As soon as he was old enough to understand what was happening, he’d worked to develop his talents. Slowly, memories of the past came back to him, and somewhere around age eleven he’d remembered it all. Alexa, Cyrgyn, the curse, the lives in between. He’d approached Alexa, expecting her to remember, as well, and confident as only a child can be that he could convince her to be his. That attempt had ended…badly. Knowing he had to prepare and that his family and the town in which they lived would be restrictive, he’d run away.

At least, they’d seen it as running away, but he’d known he was running to something. He made his way to Scotland, where he met an old man with the old ways who was willing to apprentice him.

Tars had never told him why he needed assistance. The man had died believing he left a legacy, a surrogate son to carry on tradition.

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