Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [43]
“You have a magic stone,” he said. “Your topaz.”
With a little gasp, she touched the embroidered pouch hanging around her neck on a silk cord.
“Yes,” he said. “I know it has power. I saw you use it to ward off the shadows.”
“Oh,” she said quietly, her eyes dark with memory. “Yes.”
“Does it grow?”
“Grow?”
“Yes, increase its size.”
Her eyes widened, but she shook her head.
He was feeling better now. The pain had diminished as soon as the emerald left his possession. For years he had carried it as a memory of Lea, and it had never hurt him. But lately that had changed. He did not understand why. He was not sure he could continue to keep it with him.
“When Lea first gave me the emeralds, they were no larger than the tip of my finger,” he said. “Then they joined into one stone, and it keeps getting larger. I don’t understand what it is.”
Elandra looked at the stone. “It doesn’t look like an emerald to me.”
“What, then?”
“A chunk of granite.”
Doubt flickered in his mind. Maybe Elandra and the others saw true. Maybe he was the one fooled.
But no. He remembered the nine emeralds Lea had found in the ice cave, the emeralds that were to have been her dowry one day. Had she lived, she would be old enough now to need that dowry. Fresh grief caught him unexpectedly. It was sharp, like a spear lance, and he thought he saw the emerald glow just for a second before it lay dull and lifeless in the snow again.
He reached out with an unsteady hand and picked it up. No longer was it hot to the touch. Sighing, he tried to return it to his pocket and found it now almost too large. He had to force it.
Never had he heard of magic such as this. He did not know whether it was beneficent or evil. He did not know how to use it, or even if it could be used. He did not want it, and yet he knew he could not throw it away. He was bound to it, and it to him.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said now to Elandra. “I will be well again in a few moments.”
But as he spoke he started to shiver. It was more reaction than cold. He knew that from his years in the arena where he had seen brave men shake after combat. It wasn’t fear.
“Are you cold?” she asked worriedly. “You’re shaking so.”
“I’m all right,” he tried to tell her, but she pulled off her cloak and threw it around him.
“This will give you strength,” she said.
Alarmed, he tried to pull off the golden cloth. “This is your protection. You mustn’t—”
“Hush,” she said with a smile, pulling the cloak once more over his own. “Let me wrap you up. Let me care for you this time, as you have always cared for me.”
He surrendered to her tenderness, letting her draw his head to her breast and hold him. Her fingers smoothed his hair back from his face, and he closed his eyes at her touch, taking her comfort as the pain seeped from him and he began to breathe normally again.
They couldn’t stay out here in the open like this. Already he was thinking of where to find shelter for the night. They were close to the hold. Whatever was left standing might be sufficient protection; they could always go into the storage cellar below ground.
Opening his eyes, he kissed her cheek and reluctantly pulled away. “We must get inside before dark. It’s too cold to stay out here.”
“It certainly is.”
Elandra jumped to her feet, shivering herself, and held his arm to steady him as he got up.
He smiled at her. “I am well now. Here, take back your cloak before you—”
A screech came from overhead, their only warning as something large and black burst from the treetops and swooped at them. Whirling around to face it, cursing himself for letting down his guard so completely, Caelan had a confused impression of misty wings and reaching talons. Its stench clogged his nostrils, nearly making him gag.
Even as he shouted a warning and reached for his dagger, his mind was reeling with