Realms of Valor - James Lowder [2]
The lord mayor turned the dagger over in his hands, examining the blade. Platinum there, too, polished and honed to the sharpness of a razor. Then a small imperfection caught his eye, near where the blade met the hilt. Raising the knife so that full sunlight fell on the blemish, he looked closely-and felt a sudden chill of apprehension. The image was no flaw in the polished surface. It was a tiny etching of a leering, fleshless skull. “What is it?” asked the youngster, following Pawldo's gaze. He gulped audibly when he got a close look. “I never noticed that before! What does it mean-a skull?” “You say you found this in the depths of Llyrath Forest?” Pawldo inquired meaningfully. “Yes! But I don't-” Stefanik stopped abruptly, his face blanching, his eyes growing to saucers in sudden suspicion. “The Palace of Skulls?” he whispered. “It's one explanation ... the only one,” Pawldo concluded grimly. “It's supposed to appear in Llyrath Forest only once a generation ... and then, only for the waxing of the summer solstice moon!” “The new moon was but four days past,” Stefanik said, his tone full of wonder. “And the knife-when did you find it?” Pawldo pressed. “Three days ago!” the younger halfling exclaimed with a shudder. Then he squinted, a surprisingly mature skepticism appearing in his expression. “But I thought the tales of the skull fortress were just legends! Sure, my grandmother used to frighten us with stories of evil Prince Ketheryll and his curse-but now that I'm a grown-up I can't take them seriously.*” “Can't you?” inquired the mayor of Lowhill archly. “Don't you think there might be some basis to the tales?” Again Stefanik suppressed a shudder. “I know the stories-that Ketheryll still dwells there, but he's no longer a man. Just some kind of shadow that can suck the soul and the life right out of you!” “What about the other stories?” Pawldo grew increasingly excited as he considered the possibilities. “Tales of treasure beyond your wildest dreams, mountains of wealth, glories such as you've never seen, all there for the taking- but only until the rising of the full moon___” “You mean treasures like this?” Stefanik asked, his eyes dropping to the dagger. “You think the dagger comes from the Palace of Skulls?” “Ouch!” Pawldo declared, abruptly dropping the weapon and blowing on his palm. “It got hot!” “Look!” hissed Stefanik, pointing to the dagger as it twisted on the ground. The blade had fallen on its tip, and for a second it wavered back and forth, as if it might stick into the ground. Then it bounced into the air, flopped onto its side, and flipped around so that the blade pointed just a little south of due east. The platinum surface glowed with a brightness greater than the sun's reflection. “It's... it's like it heard me,” Stefanik said softly.