family or home, or any reliable way of supporting themselves, except for the occasional award of gold from a grateful prince or a treasure found in a goblin cave. They escaped every adventure more or less unscathed, more than ready for the next.
There appeared to be few lasting consequences for their actions, even for the blithe killing of villains. And while women continually swooned into Gilan’s arms, poor Blaine was permitted no such romantic attention. The author, however, made sure Blaine was devoted to Gilan and admired him with the whole of her heart, no matter he was, Karigan reflected, a self-absorbed boor.
Funny how her perspective on the book had changed with her own experiences. If she were to write a sequel, she’d have Blaine smarten up, leave Gilan to his own folly, and work for a more noble purpose than simply gadding about the countryside in hopes of encountering adventure. No, she’d have Blaine offer her sword to the good prince who ruled his lands with a fair hand. Blaine’s adventures would have more purpose, be more realistic.
Maybe she should make Blaine a royal messenger? Karigan laughed at herself.
She removed the moonstone from her pocket to better view an illustration of the mighty, impossibly muscled and handsome Gilan clasping a sword in one hand and the bloody head of a monster in the other while Blaine gazed upon him with typical adoration.
The light dazzled, brightened the office as it never had been before. Objects leaped into brilliant relief, and the colors of the illustration jumped off the page. The gold edging sparkled.
On impulse, Karigan craned her neck around to gaze at her mother’s portrait. It was almost as though her mother came to life, the flesh so warm and real looking, her hair shining and eyes alight. There was more of a smile to her lips than Karigan remembered. She glanced away with a shiver and stared into the silvery white luminescence of the moonstone, the book forgotten on her lap.
She could almost hear her mother singing to her, singing to her of Laurelyn:
The Moonman loved Laurelyn, brightest spirit
beneath the stars, and he built her a castle
of silver moonbeams tall,
in sylvan Argenthyne, sweet Silvermind ...
Karigan couldn’t help but glance once more at her mother’s portrait, remembering the warmth of her mother’s arms around her as she sang of Laurelyn.
That, combined with the discovery of the moonstone, was, she thought, a remarkable coincidence. Too remarkable.
Did her mother meet with Eletians in the woods as Aunt Stace suggested? How else would she have received the moonstone? The Berry sisters said an Eletian gave their father the one they possessed. If that was the case, then perhaps it was not so extraordinary that her mother had acquired one.
And yet, it was.
As beautiful and as useful as a light source moonstones were, they were powerful when unleashed. The one given her by the Berry sisters had ultimately become a weapon when she fought Shawdell the Eletian, who had breached the D’Yer Wall. She had wielded its light like a blade, sharper and stronger than any earthly steel. When the wounded Shawdell fled, all that remained of the moonstone were crystal fragments on the palm of her hand.
She could not imagine the Eletians giving away moonstones to just anyone. What was their purpose in giving one to her mother? So that it would eventually come to Karigan, as Professor Berry’s had?
She closed her fingers around the moonstone, the sensation of being part of some greater plot washing over her once again. Her aunts were pleased the mystery of Kariny’s final words was resolved, but for Karigan, there was no resolution, just more questions.
Secrets, she thought. Too many secrets .
She was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and closing, and feet stomping in the entry hall.
“Stevic?” Aunt Stace called from somewhere deep within the house, followed by footsteps as she strode down the
There appeared to be few lasting consequences for their actions, even for the blithe killing of villains. And while women continually swooned into Gilan’s arms, poor Blaine was permitted no such romantic attention. The author, however, made sure Blaine was devoted to Gilan and admired him with the whole of her heart, no matter he was, Karigan reflected, a self-absorbed boor.
Funny how her perspective on the book had changed with her own experiences. If she were to write a sequel, she’d have Blaine smarten up, leave Gilan to his own folly, and work for a more noble purpose than simply gadding about the countryside in hopes of encountering adventure. No, she’d have Blaine offer her sword to the good prince who ruled his lands with a fair hand. Blaine’s adventures would have more purpose, be more realistic.
Maybe she should make Blaine a royal messenger? Karigan laughed at herself.
She removed the moonstone from her pocket to better view an illustration of the mighty, impossibly muscled and handsome Gilan clasping a sword in one hand and the bloody head of a monster in the other while Blaine gazed upon him with typical adoration.
The light dazzled, brightened the office as it never had been before. Objects leaped into brilliant relief, and the colors of the illustration jumped off the page. The gold edging sparkled.
On impulse, Karigan craned her neck around to gaze at her mother’s portrait. It was almost as though her mother came to life, the flesh so warm and real looking, her hair shining and eyes alight. There was more of a smile to her lips than Karigan remembered. She glanced away with a shiver and stared into the silvery white luminescence of the moonstone, the book forgotten on her lap.
She could almost hear her mother singing to her, singing to her of Laurelyn:
The Moonman loved Laurelyn, brightest spirit
beneath the stars, and he built her a castle
of silver moonbeams tall,
in sylvan Argenthyne, sweet Silvermind ...
Karigan couldn’t help but glance once more at her mother’s portrait, remembering the warmth of her mother’s arms around her as she sang of Laurelyn.
That, combined with the discovery of the moonstone, was, she thought, a remarkable coincidence. Too remarkable.
Did her mother meet with Eletians in the woods as Aunt Stace suggested? How else would she have received the moonstone? The Berry sisters said an Eletian gave their father the one they possessed. If that was the case, then perhaps it was not so extraordinary that her mother had acquired one.
And yet, it was.
As beautiful and as useful as a light source moonstones were, they were powerful when unleashed. The one given her by the Berry sisters had ultimately become a weapon when she fought Shawdell the Eletian, who had breached the D’Yer Wall. She had wielded its light like a blade, sharper and stronger than any earthly steel. When the wounded Shawdell fled, all that remained of the moonstone were crystal fragments on the palm of her hand.
She could not imagine the Eletians giving away moonstones to just anyone. What was their purpose in giving one to her mother? So that it would eventually come to Karigan, as Professor Berry’s had?
She closed her fingers around the moonstone, the sensation of being part of some greater plot washing over her once again. Her aunts were pleased the mystery of Kariny’s final words was resolved, but for Karigan, there was no resolution, just more questions.
Secrets, she thought. Too many secrets .
She was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and closing, and feet stomping in the entry hall.
“Stevic?” Aunt Stace called from somewhere deep within the house, followed by footsteps as she strode down the
Similar Books
