These aren’t infected with the Green Flame. These belong to Sira alone.
Between the gemlight, the crystals, and the rippling water, I swear the reflections are playing tricks on me. Images flash on the surface of the obelisks. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, but when I open, I still see them.
I drift closer to one of the obelisks, placing my hand on its smooth surface. Beneath my palm, visions flicker. A little girl playing with a doll made of straw. Then a man, laughing and pointing, standing under a shower of fireworks.
What is this?
I walk around the obelisk, staring at another side. An elderly couple lie in a bed, holding hands. A fight waged with sticks as children laugh and run through the alleys of a dark city. A small goblin, lying in a field of flowers, sighing as she stares up at the sun.
I stop. That goblin… It’s Heidigog, reveling in her beloved bloomies.
She told me of this memory. It was so important to her.
But she’d forgotten.
My little thief.
Or…it had been stolen.
My heart thunders against my ribs as I turn to the other obelisk, searching the images. Two friends playing cards. A boy staring out at the ocean. A goblin with a grinjaw asleep in his lap. A young woman with light brown hair?—
I narrow my gaze, trying to place her. Aquila, the priestess who helped Faustrius attack Voidseal Bridge. In this memory, she looks different. No horns or tail, and her hair and skin don’t have that greenish tint. I can’t tell what realm she’s in, but she’s sitting atop a white-roofed building, looking up at the sky and marveling at the stars.
All these images are precious memories. What has Sira done? Stolen them? Trapped them here? No wonder everyone in Cryptgarden is so bleak, always filling their days with drink and sex. Everything that’s ever made them feel joy has been trapped in these crystals.
Just as I think I can’t bear it anymore, another face flashes across the surface of the obelisk. One I know all too well.
My own.
I focus my attention, observing it as one would study a painting in a museum. I’m wearing a long, white dress and a veil, standing hand in hand with Keldarion.
I tilt my head. It looks…
It looks like we’re getting married.
Tears prick my eyes. I touch the stone on my left hand as Keldarion takes mine in the obelisk and slips a ring onto my finger.
I’m married.We’remarried.
And Sira stole that memory from me.
The tears pour down my face, not from sadness but fromrage. She has tried to take my home, my mates, my family. Nowshe steals straight from my mind. Mymemories!My precious, sacred memories that make me who I am! Has she taken anything more?
I run around the obelisk, searching the moving images. I don’t recognize anything else, but there’s one thing in common. Every single memory seems filled with joy.
You fed me well. The tether is strong.
What is this horrid thing? What is its purpose?
I don’t know, but there’s a rioting in my gut screaming at me that itmustbe destroyed.
My blood feels hot enough to melt my bones. I can’t think clearly. With a roar, I kick the obelisk, wanting to crack it open, topple it over, shatter it once and for all. The only thing I shatter may have been my little toe. Yelping and rubbing my foot through my boot, I growl up at the hideous things. Anything can be broken.
I look around the cavern. Against the wall, I see a pile of rocks. Grabbing the heaviest one I can find, I wield it like a mallet, pummeling the obelisk over and over again.
When my arms ache and the rock feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, I pull back, breath heavy.
It’s tiny. Barely noticeable. But it sets my heart aflame.
