Dark Memory – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
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She took her time cleansing the cards and thought about the friend she’d known all her life. She’d accepted Aura and her strange ways because her grandparents and parents had. It had been normal for Aura to arrive in the evening and to leave before dawn. She’d grown up with Safia and had been part of their family for the last twenty-three years.

Of course, Safia had asked about her parents, especially after meeting her mother. Aura had said that her father had died and her mother was ill. Was waiting. When Safia had asked what that meant, she simply said, “For the promise to be kept.” Recalling those words made her pause. The promise to be kept. Was she the promise? More and more, it seemed as if Aura had answers to questions—unless, like Safia, she hadn’t been told anything. Why keep them in the dark? Why hadn’t her mother told her things she should know instead of allowing her to be afraid of the one man who would be coming to aid them?

Aura had told her she wouldn’t be able to be reached until after sunset. The sun was sinking into the sea, and the wind was bringing the fog into the harbor. She began to feel a sense of urgency. If her grandfather was going to spend the night in the caves, she wanted to be far down in them and not outside, exposed to the elements.

Slinging the backpack onto her shoulders, she caught up her bow and the quiver of special arrows as well and hurried out into the family room. Amastan was waiting. She should have known he would be ready. He always seemed one step ahead.

* * *

• • •

Once on the outskirts of the hillside leading to the entrance to the cave system, Safia’s grandfather led the way up the narrow stairway hewn out of the earth and formed with rocks. The rocks felt old and solid, sacred to her, beneath the soles of her boots. To the thousands of others who had walked over those rocks, she knew they were just old stones to be used as a staircase up the hillside, but she felt the difference each time she made the journey to the caves.

Amastan Meziane was close to six feet tall and on the slighter side, although strong and wiry. He walked with deliberate steps, neither fast nor slow, as was his way. Safia had been following him from the time she was a toddler, and she could shadow his every step, anticipate his every move. She did so now, checking to make certain he wouldn’t fall on the steep stairs.

Bats flew overhead, seeking insects in the light, wheeling and dipping, snatching them with practiced ease. Safia connected with them, easing into them, making herself part of their circle, their family, so that they accepted her. They had grown used to her presence over time and thought nothing of her joining with them.

In northern Algeria, there were six principal species of bats. Although not all were close, Safia could call them to her when needed. From a very early age, Aura had insisted she practice until she had command of birds, bats, insects and reptiles. When she was able to successfully bind those to her and keep them under her command, Aura had her go on to larger farm animals and then wildlife. Aura had told her the point was to ensure that if an evil creature took command of any of the raptors, insects or whatever she’d practiced connecting with, they would be so familiar with her, she could easily take them back.

The process became second nature to her, and every morning when she went outside to do chores on the farm, she greeted the sheep and goats. Even the chickens. She would look for hawks and other birds in the sky and communicate with them. The practice became a ritual, and it kept her mind and abilities sharp. She particularly made certain she worked with insects until she wasn’t afraid of them. When she’d been very little, stinging bugs had really frightened her. Aura had insisted she let them land on her and fly all around until she didn’t even flinch when they flew at her face.

Now she sent a request to the bats, putting them on alert, letting them know that she would be down in the caves all night and that she would need them to be alert to anything that felt wrong. She wanted sentries when she was in the cave of their ancestors with her grandfather.

“You didn’t tell us what the cards said,” her grandfather pointed out, walking without missing a step.

“I didn’t have to. You knew. You always know. Everyone knew. There was no need to scare the children any more than they already are.”


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