A STONE STEEPED IN SECRETS #4
Torin looked about as uneasy as I felt, but after a long pause, she reached up and took her diadem in her hands.
Staring down at it, she said, “There is a lake on Skotos. It is known for its magical qualities and perilous waters. Everything that goes in comes out changed. It can harden the softest metal into unbreakable ore. It can fuse the bones of broken beasts, if it so wishes. It can do many things, but the one thing it is not capable of is compassion. I tell you this because these very stones were pulled from that lake, and like many things on Skotos, they are well-versed in darkness. I do not use them in that way, but the capability is there nonetheless.” She met Nivelle’s eyes.
“The price to pay when using one of these stones is far greater than any dark magic you have done in the past. It will not just leave a physical mark. Do you understand?”
Nivelle nodded.
Reluctantly, Torin twisted her fingers above the centermost stone, and the prongs that held it in place bent outward at her command.
It floated freely from its resting place, and she plucked it from the air with two fingers.
It was no bigger than a small coin, and looked as delicate as Nivelle.
The goddess laid it in the witch’s open palm.
“This stone is bound to me. I will come for it as soon as you have attempted your task. You will not get a second chance to unbind the Aether, so I suggest you invoke everything I taught you.”
Nivelle closed her fingers around the magenta-colored stone, tilting her head as her brows pinched together. “Did you give the original witch this stone when she tried to unbind the Aether?”
Torin’s frown deepened. “I did. And still, she could not break the curse. She was not strong enough.”
“You could have helped her, but you didn’t.”
Torin lowered her eyes, recognizing where she had been at fault. Yet still, she tried to excuse it. “You know where I stand, concerning dark magic.”
“You fear it,” Nivelle said. “All because of what it did to you, long ago.”
“I do not expect you to understand.” She glanced up at the witch, then looked to me. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Well, I do not care to understand it. I do not fear dark magic. Perhaps that, in itself, makes all the difference.”
The goddess studied Nivelle with something akin to respect, and even a hint of envy.
“This male whom you speak of, I hope he is as strong as you claim him to be. Because if he isn’t, you, my dear, will suffer for your efforts in helping him, and that is not something I can control.
That is the nature of the darkness itself. ”
As if those words had physical weight, Nivelle’s shoulders lowered, but she quickly pushed them back and lifted her head—a hard line set into her jaw. “I have no need for your concern.”
Torin regarded Nivelle for another long moment, her lips tugging upward in a sad smile, as if she knew she could not reason with her any further. Then, she turned to me, and took a step in my direction.
“You . . . What are your High Lord’s terms for my aid in this war? Best we discuss it now so that I do not change my mind about this Aether business.”
I cleared my throat and uncrossed my arms, running through the preliminary plans Niall had discussed with Aremis and me.
“The Dionachs are to fly to Calledan when summoned. We hope to give them ample time to prepare for their departure, but with the way things are going, the timeframe is uncertain. The wards will be lowered to allow them to pass through.”
“Fair,” Torin agreed.
“What of the witches you promised? There were only a handful of them at the meeting yesterday. How many can we expect in total?”
“I have yet to decide.”
“You’ve yet to decide?” I couldn’t help the humorless, breathy laugh that escaped my mouth. “This war will not wait on you, Goddess.”
“I am well aware.” She lifted her chin. “They will come . . . when I say they can.” A snide remark poised itself on the tip of my tongue, but she lifted a challenging brow and added, “I am already giving you more than you originally asked for, Commander. Do not overstep your boundaries.”
“Then I trust you will find a way to get those witches onto Calledan soil yourself?”
“I will. And once the war is over, and Lyceius is defeated, the witches and Dionachs are free to remain in Calledan wherever they wish?”
“The wards will remain open to them, as promised. So long as they fulfill the duty you agreed to: to protect the fae and the humans, and fight against our common enemy.”
“Very well.”
I expected her to leave it at that, to turn and disappear into the mist she came from. But instead, she remained rooted in front of me, sizing me up—more thoughtfully this time than before.
“The witches have lived in solitude with nothing but the purpose of furthering their lineage and passing power down their bloodlines, producing Dionachs for the betterment of the world we inhabit. It has been ages since any of them have interacted with another species long enough to develop any sort of personal interest.” The goddess stepped even closer.
It almost would have been threatening, if my heart wasn’t suddenly beating like a frantic drum in my chest and demanding all my attention to calm it down.
“The line you two are walking is dangerous, not because of what you are, but because of what you are starting to mean to each other. Do not let that cloud your judgment.” She swung her pointed gaze to Nivelle, letting it linger there before turning away.
It was as much a warning as it was a strange way of giving us her approval. At least, that was how I took it.
The mist seeped back into the space around us, tumbling through the trees like it had been waiting just out of sight.
“Perhaps the fates have a hand in this that I do not yet see,” Torin said, pausing to glance over her shoulder. “A chance to right the wrongs. For all of us.”
As she vanished into the mist that claimed her, I let her words echo in my mind.
A chance to right the wrongs.
To clear names, undo curses, and eliminate evil.
The fates had to be on our side.
Because if they weren’t . . . if none of this worked . . . I wasn’t sure what would come after.