Page 51 of Dance in the Stones

“I think this is one of those cases mentioned in that letter,” Damon said. “If we both press here…”

Redford’s palm rested beside his, and Damon felt his mate’s gargoyle becoming attuned to the vibrations of the one tiny spot. Within seconds, the harsh sound of stone grinding against stone filled the undercroft as a section of the wall swung inward. The hidden chamber beyond stole Damon’s breath, and Redford audibly gasped.

Massive crystalline structures had been embedded directly into the bedrock. Each crystal stood taller than Damon, their faceted surfaces catching the dim light from Damon’s orbs and turning it into rainbows that colored the walls in patterns. Runes covered every inch of what could be seen. But the most startling aspect was that the crystals were pulsing with a soft light…as if the crystals were sleeping.

“By the stones,” Redford breathed. “What is this?”

Damon moved closer. The magical signature was overwhelming to the point where it was saturating the air. It was clearly old magic – that would be expected – but what Damon didn’t expect to see was the complex layers of that magic, as if woven from multiple traditions.

“I kinda feel like we need a user manual for this thing.” Redford ran his hand through his hair. “What does this even do?”

Along the far wall, stone shelves held more documents. They were older than the sanctuary records, and not as well preserved. The vellum was brittle, and the ink had faded considerably. Damon carefully lifted one, reading and mentally translating the archaic script.

“It’s instructions.” His voice echoed off the crystal, even though Damon deliberately kept his tone low. “If what this record says is true, this is the instruction manual for creating and maintaining the...heart of the sanctuary?”

“Heart?”

“That’s what they called it. This crystalline structure was meant to protect and sustain the whole castle. I would need to read this over more carefully, but it would seem that multiple paranormal groups collaborated to build it – not only gargoyles, but witches, druids, and even fae contributed runes.”

Redford approached the largest crystal. “It’s absolutely beautiful, but how is it breathing, moving…you know what I mean? It’s still pulsing with energy even though no one has been down here for hundreds of years.”

“My guess would be that the last caretaker died without passing on the knowledge of how to maintain it, so it shut down, or fell asleep as such, so as to preserve its energy.” Damon set the document down carefully. “That gives a whole new meaning to the caretaker’s cottage where we’re living. But it would seem this structure – and I use that term loosely – is still functional. It’s basically taking a nap.”

“Can we wake it up?”

“Red…”

“I want to know what it does.” Redford’s hand hovered over the crystal’s surface. “My gargoyle needs to know.”

Damon could feel his mate’s pull toward the ancient magic. It made sense. Gargoyles were creatures of stone and protection, and the crystals were effectively both.

“Don’t you think we should find some decent light and read the documentation first? It was you who wanted to find a manual for it.”

“I just want a single touch, so I can read its purpose. These pretties are made of stone, when it’s all said and done, so they can’t hurt me.”

Damon moved to Redford’s side. “Well, I’m immune to magic, so they can’t hurt me either, which means we do it together or not at all.” He held out his hand.

“Together,” Redford smiled as he put his fingers in Damon’s palm. “Always with you.”

They pressed their free palms against the crystal simultaneously - Redford’s right hand and Damon’s left – and the reaction was immediate.

The crystal filled the room with a brilliant white light, and as Damon watched, it was as if he could see Redford the man and Redford’s gargoyle form superimposed over each other. Glancing down at his hand, he realized the light was affecting him in the same way – showing both his human and hellhound forms.

The gargoyle reached for the stone, and so did Damon’s hellhound – instinctively supporting his mate.

Four spirits, stone in their bones, fire in their blood…the crystal can see that in us.

The entire tower trembled and one by one the other crystals blazed to life, their rhythmic pulsing synchronizing into a single massive heartbeat. The runes covering every surface were now glowing gold, and through the stone beneath his feet, Damon felt something vast and ancient stir.

Wake.

The word wasn’t spoken out loud, but it resonated through the crystal, and then through every single stone in the tower – hell, it was probably in every stone in the castle itself. Something…and Damon still didn’t have a clue what it was…was waking up.

“Red…” Damon tensed, ready to translocate himself and his mate to the Underworld if necessary.

“I can feel it,” Redford whispered. “The castle knows about us. It’s… damn it…the only word I can think of is this castle is awake.”

The brilliant light faded gradually, dimming until only a soft glow remained. But the heartbeat stayed steady as the crystals continued to pulse in unison.