Stone of Tears

She gave him a little frown as she slipped her hands to his waist. “You know, Jedidiah, you may think of yourself as powerful in the gift, but I think you should worry about that. You have never had one to challenge your abilities before, your rightful place among the wizards here, but a new one comes. He will be here soon, and you have never seen one like this before. I think you may no longer be the pride of the palace.”

His countenance showed no reaction, but his face slowly heated to red. He lifted the statue. “Well, you did say you would like to teach me.”

She waggled a finger in front of his face. “Uh, uh, uh. He is mine. You may have another. Any gift will swell your power, but this one is mine.”

He waggled the statue in front of her face. “she might have something to say about that. She has plans of her own. Plans for him.”

She smiled with one side of her mouth. “I know. And you are going to keep me informed of her plans.”

He lifted an eyebrow.” You have plans for me?”

The smile grew to both sides of her mouth. “Very special plans.” Her hands roamed lower down the sides of his hips, feeling the firmness of his young muscles under his robes. “You’re good with your hands, good at making things, making things in metal. I have something I want you to make for me. Something invested with magic. I hear that’s one of your talents with the gift.”

“You wish a trinket, an amulet, perhaps, in silver, or gold?”

“No, no, dear boy. You’re to make it from steel. You’re to gather the steel of a hundred sword points. Very special sword points. Sword points from the armory: old ones, ones that have been used. Ones that have pierced flesh in combat.”

He arched an eyebrow. And what is it you wish made?”

She slid a hand up the inside of his thigh. “We’ll talk about it later.”

She smiled at how quickly he responded to her touch. “You must be lonely, since Margaret ran away. Sooo lonely. I think you need a friend who understands you. Did you know, Jedidiah, that with the male Han comes a unique understanding of the male? I now understand in a new light what it is that men appreciate. I think we’re going to be very special friends. As a special friend, you get the reward before performing the task.”

She trickled a thread of magic into him, focusing it where it would do the most good. Her smile widened as his head rolled back. His eyes closed and he let out a throaty groan, and then gasped. Panting, he clutched his hands to her bottom, drawing her to him, and crushed his open mouth to hers.

She kicked the body out of her way as she let him force her to the straw-covered floor.

Chapter 36

The wolverine grew larger in his vision. The arrow waited for the flat, dark head to lift. A low growl came from behind his left shoulder.

“Quiet!” Richard hissed.

The gar fell silent. The wolverine’s head rose. With a zip, the arrow was away. Wings aquiver, the little gar bounced on the balls of its feet, its attention riveted to the flight of the arrow.

“Wait,” he whispered. The gar froze.

With a solid thunk, the arrow found its target. The gar squealed in glee. Wings spreading and flapping, it bounced higher and turned to him. Richard leaned close and pointed a finger at the gar’s wrinkly nose. The gar watched him attentively.

“All right, but you bring me back my arrow.”

Head bobbing in quick agreement, the gar bounded into the air. Richard watched by the dim, early dawn light as it swooped down on the dead quarry, pouncing as if it were about to escape. Fur flew as claws ripped. The dark silhouette lowered, its wings folding against its back, as it hunched over the prey, growling and pulling its meal apart.

Richard turned from the sight and watched instead the streaks of cloud change color against the brightening sky. Sister Verna would be awake soon. He still stood his watch despite her insistence that it wasn’t necessary.

She finally relented, but he knew she was angry because he wouldn’t back down. That made her angry. What didn’t? She was more angry than usual since coming through the valley the day before. She was silently livid.

Richard glanced toward the little gar to see it was still eating. How it had managed to follow him through the Valley of the Lost, he couldn’t imagine. He had thought it was a mistake to keep feeding it before they reached the valley, but he felt responsible for it. Every night when he had taken his watch, it had come to him, and he had hunted food for it. He had thought he had seen the last of it when they crossed over into the Old World, but somehow, it had followed.

The little gar was passionately devoted to him when he was on watch. It ate with him, played with him, and slept at his feet, if not on them. When his watch was over, it hardly made a fuss about him leaving. Richard never once saw the gar at any other time. It seemed to instinctively know to stay away from the Sister, to avoid letting her see it. Richard was reasonably certain she would try to kill it. Maybe the gar knew that.