Page 46 of A Cage of Crystal


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Bile rose into her throat, but she couldn’t look away. Couldn’t move. Her shoulders began to tremble, her mind reeling between shock and panic. The water was so dark, the crystal was almost invisible now.

Cora.

Valorre’s familiar energy reached through her frazzled emotions, cleaving through her panic, and separating her from her fear. She hadn’t been out to see her unicorn friend since the night of Lurel’s death, but he’d come close enough to the castle walls to check in with her now and then.

Are you all right?

She forced herself to her feet, averting her gaze from the basin. Then, focusing on the elements—on the heat from the hearth, the smell of herbs wafting from the fire, the feel of solid stone beneath her leather slippers, the glittering dewdrops lining the windowsill—she drew her shields tight around her. She’d need to lower them again before she got back to work, lest she fail to sense hidden dangers, but for now they served as a sense of safety.

I’m all right, she conveyed to Valorre.

I worry, he said from somewhere in the forest.

So do I. But I’m fine now.

With a slow exhale, she glanced back at the blood-filled basin. The sight still repulsed her, but she could think objectively now. Of course the crystal leaked blood. And it was a good thing. It meant the cleansing was working. All that was left for her to do was empty the dirty basin, bring it back inside, refill it, and start again. She’d do it over and over until the water ran clear.

She’d made a mistake in starting with the crystal, assuming it would act like an ordinary stone. Had she wanted to start off easy, she’d have chosen something far less personal to Morkai. But she’d already begun and now she would see it through.

Setting her jaw, she bent down and hefted the basin in her hands. Thankfully, it wasn’t overfull, even with the blood. She’d purposefully poured only one jug of spring water inside it, knowing she’d have to change the water frequently over the course of her work. Even so, she kept her steps even, determined not to let even a drop of the basin’s repulsive contents get within inches of the bowl’s rim. Then, keeping her composure nonchalant, she ducked beneath the hanging rosemary and strolled past the guard. He stiffened at the sight of what she carried, but she commented, “Rust,” and left it at that.

Every step felt tenuous as she descended the stairs. Her heart slammed against her ribs, making her arms shake. She dreaded even the slightest stumble. If she got even a drop of that vile blood on her, she’d retch. She managed to reach the bottom of the stairwell without any incident and proceeded through the castle. The guard’s footsteps sounded behind her, echoing the pound of her racing heart, but she paid him no heed. She had no choice but to let him follow her.

She moved more on instinct than design, making her way outside past a familiar courtyard, then through a door in a low wall, stopping only when she reached the charred field that once was Ridine’s garden. Her composure began to crack at the sight of it; it was somehow even more sorrowful under daylight. Morkai had sacrificed the life that had once grown there to animate his wraiths. It remained as she’d seen it last, an expanse of black earth dotted with gnarled stumps.

A shudder ran through her as she recalled the duke’s demonstration. How he’d killed two prisoners, one slaughtered by his wraiths, the other murdered by a blood weaving. She understood now why her instincts—no, her Art—had drawn her here. While she couldn’t change what had happened, couldn’t bring Morkai’s victims back from the dead, she could return the blood he’d stolen. Give it back to the earth where the dead belonged. Feed the land where Morkai had taken. Killed. Destroyed.

Crouching at the edge of the field, she emptied the basin until every last drop of blood seeped into the charred soil.

* * *

It tooktwo more jugs of spring water before the crystal stopped bleeding. Her chest unraveled with relief. Even more so when she dried off the stone and buried it in the bowl of salt. She half expected the salt to turn red, but it remained untainted. Blowing out a breath, she shifted her weight and sat back on her heels.

You can stop being such a mother hen now, Valorre, she relayed to her friend. With her shields lowered again, she could practically feel the frantic pacing of his hooves along the outer length of the castle wall.

Hen? I am no hen, came his affronted response.Nor am I a mother.

Her lips quirked into a weak smile.No, you are a valiant unicorn. But I’m all right. Truly.Her heart sank with regret. As much as she liked knowing he was always nearby, she felt guilty too. The only reason he kept close was because of the choice she’d made. He could go wherever he wanted. Roam the woods. Find more of his kind. Instead, he chose to stay near Ridine, for a person who hadn’t had the decency to visit him more than once—

Valorre’s voice cut in on her thoughts.I am not to be coddled. I stay because we are friends. You think I need to see your face to be your friend?He scoffed into her mind.You confuse me with a pet.

She blinked a few times, surprised at his sudden ire. His presence waned, and she sensed him trotting off. A flash of concern pinched her heart, but it quickly abated. Her too-proud companion would be back. In the meantime, he was giving her the space she’d inadvertently requested.

And she needed that space. That silence. That focus.

Returning to her kneeling position before the salt basin, she smoothed her hands over her apron, then reached inside the bowl and retrieved the crystal. She rinsed it briefly once more and brought it before the hearth. A fresh bundle of herbs burned alongside the cedar logs, filling the space with the heady aroma of woodsmoke, hawthorn, laurel, and rosemary. She ran the crystal through the smoke, turning it in her hand so every facet could feel the heat of the flames and the gentle touch of the smoke. Now that every element had done its work—earth for grounding, water for cleansing, fire for transmutation, and air for dissipation—she took it to the empty tea table and placed it at the center. There she’d formed a protective sigil using twigs and stones, shaped in overlapping triangles and circles, much like herinsigmora.

The tea table was far enough from the doorway that the guard, or anyone watching from the other side of the threshold, wouldn’t see the strange symbols. With her back facing the door, she could hide what she did next. Not that she was about to do anything impressive. It was only that some aspects of quiet magic looked odd to those ignorant or fearful of magic.

Her inked palms tingled as she closed her eyes and lowered her hands around the crystal, not touching it but sensing.Feelingwith her Art alone. She extended her senses, connecting with the energy of the crystal. An energy she hoped to find vibrating with pure light—

Disappointment sank her stomach.

She opened her eyes and frowned down at the crystal. While the stone’s energy certainly felt lighter, there was still a weight to it. A murky energy mingling with something she couldn’t identify. Something that felt alive. Trapped. And not necessarily dark.

Cora released a frustrated sigh, sending loose tendrils of tangled dark hair off her forehead. What could she do next? A normal stone would be cleared by now, but this wasn’t a normal stone. Perhaps heat from the fire hadn’t been enough to fully transmute the energy. She could throw it in the flames. But would it melt? If so, would that be a good thing? She supposed that all depended upon what exactly that trapped energy was. Not to mention the murky energy beside it that felt far more malevolent.

Curiosity had her furrowing her brow. She reached into her apron pocket and retrieved the paring knife she’d taken from the kitchen. Bending over the table, she held the crystal in place with one hand and carefully pressed the blade’s edge into the stone with the other. No matter how much pressure she applied, the crystal didn’t so much as splinter. That meant it was only amber in color, not composition. That didn’t mean it couldn’t be broken. Still, breaking it should be a last resort. It would be best if she could purify more of the murky energy before doing anything that could either destroy the neutral energy or release the darker.

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