before you and you don’t even want to test it?”
Oargev raised his hands, cheeks flushed with shame and wine. “I apologize again. This … I … You must understand. I’ve struggled with this for years. I face nightmares both awake and asleep. Nothing I’ve tried has borne fruit, and just hours ago I was attacked by a man I once trusted as much as anyone in this room. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and we should follow any lead.”
Cadrel patted the prince’s arm. “We’ve all been under too much stress of late,” he said. “So what is the next step? We need to heal this lad, is that all?”
Vron glanced at Drix. He’d closed his shirt, and he ran a finger over the hidden stone.
“They need to remove the stone,” Drix said. “Cure the wound.”
“It sounds simple enough, I know,” Vron said. “Unfortunately, it’s anything but. Healing balms and spells treat the stone as if it was a living part of him. We’ve tried to cut it out ourselves, but any wound heals instantly. The artificers tell me there’s a phenomenal amount of power in the stone, and if there’s any truth to the idea that the stone is linked to the Mourning, well, we don’t want to do anything too dangerous. We can’t remove it. But they can.”
“So why haven’t they?” Oargev said. “What are they waiting for?”
“The stones,” Drix replied. “The queen of the feyspire told me that she’d gather the lords when the time was right. But she needed me to find two more stones, and bring them with me to the spire.”
“It seems these eladrin have been hidden on Eberron far longer than we knew,” Vron said. “The shard used to preserve Drix’s life is one of a set. Apparently some of these crystals have been lost, and Drix needs to find two more before he can return to the spire to be healed.”
“She said I’d find them in the last days of the searching moon, in the shadow of a broken blade,” Drix said. “Two kings would meet, and I would find two stones, wrapped in thorn.”
“Interesting,” Cadrel said. “The searching moon would presumably be Barrakas, and we are in its last days.”
“The Citadel stands in the shadow of Brokenblade Castle,” Vron said.
Cadrel nodded. “And if we grant his highness his true title as King of Cyre, two kings are indeed meeting tonight.”
“Which leaves …” Thorn paused. “You can’t be serious.”
“We haven’t worked closely in the past, Lantern Thorn, but I assure you, I’m always serious.”
“What do you mean?” Oargev said. “ ‘Wrapped in thorn.’ Do you know where these stones are hidden?”
“Come, Lantern,” Vron said. “Show us a stone wrapped in Thorn.”
Turning her back to the others, she pulled up her hair, revealing the glittering crystal embedded in the base of her skull. It was far smaller than Drix’s stone heart, and there was no mist swirling within, but the tinker gasped when he saw it.
“Yes!” Drix said. “That’s one of them. She showed me, in my thoughts. The queen.”
“This is no fey treasure, Lord Commander,” Thorn said. “You know exactly how I came by it.” The shards in her spine were shrapnel, the scars of the explosion at Far Passage. There had been thousands of dragonshards surrounding the arcane core, and Thorn had been struck by dozens; the two she retained were simply the only shards they couldn’t remove.
“There’s still a great deal we don’t know about that incident,” Vron said. “Could you show the other shard, Lantern?”
“Yes, sir.” None of this makes any sense. Still, she pulled her shirt up, revealing the lighter stone embedded in her spine.
“Two stones,” Drix whispered. “And you’re Thorn.”
Oargev and Boranel seemed equally baffled by the turn of events.
Cadrel spoke first. “And so it seems that our life is just a fairy tale,” the old bard said. “Grand in its way. What comes next? A ritual under the towering oaks of the Eldeen Reaches with five
Oargev raised his hands, cheeks flushed with shame and wine. “I apologize again. This … I … You must understand. I’ve struggled with this for years. I face nightmares both awake and asleep. Nothing I’ve tried has borne fruit, and just hours ago I was attacked by a man I once trusted as much as anyone in this room. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and we should follow any lead.”
Cadrel patted the prince’s arm. “We’ve all been under too much stress of late,” he said. “So what is the next step? We need to heal this lad, is that all?”
Vron glanced at Drix. He’d closed his shirt, and he ran a finger over the hidden stone.
“They need to remove the stone,” Drix said. “Cure the wound.”
“It sounds simple enough, I know,” Vron said. “Unfortunately, it’s anything but. Healing balms and spells treat the stone as if it was a living part of him. We’ve tried to cut it out ourselves, but any wound heals instantly. The artificers tell me there’s a phenomenal amount of power in the stone, and if there’s any truth to the idea that the stone is linked to the Mourning, well, we don’t want to do anything too dangerous. We can’t remove it. But they can.”
“So why haven’t they?” Oargev said. “What are they waiting for?”
“The stones,” Drix replied. “The queen of the feyspire told me that she’d gather the lords when the time was right. But she needed me to find two more stones, and bring them with me to the spire.”
“It seems these eladrin have been hidden on Eberron far longer than we knew,” Vron said. “The shard used to preserve Drix’s life is one of a set. Apparently some of these crystals have been lost, and Drix needs to find two more before he can return to the spire to be healed.”
“She said I’d find them in the last days of the searching moon, in the shadow of a broken blade,” Drix said. “Two kings would meet, and I would find two stones, wrapped in thorn.”
“Interesting,” Cadrel said. “The searching moon would presumably be Barrakas, and we are in its last days.”
“The Citadel stands in the shadow of Brokenblade Castle,” Vron said.
Cadrel nodded. “And if we grant his highness his true title as King of Cyre, two kings are indeed meeting tonight.”
“Which leaves …” Thorn paused. “You can’t be serious.”
“We haven’t worked closely in the past, Lantern Thorn, but I assure you, I’m always serious.”
“What do you mean?” Oargev said. “ ‘Wrapped in thorn.’ Do you know where these stones are hidden?”
“Come, Lantern,” Vron said. “Show us a stone wrapped in Thorn.”
Turning her back to the others, she pulled up her hair, revealing the glittering crystal embedded in the base of her skull. It was far smaller than Drix’s stone heart, and there was no mist swirling within, but the tinker gasped when he saw it.
“Yes!” Drix said. “That’s one of them. She showed me, in my thoughts. The queen.”
“This is no fey treasure, Lord Commander,” Thorn said. “You know exactly how I came by it.” The shards in her spine were shrapnel, the scars of the explosion at Far Passage. There had been thousands of dragonshards surrounding the arcane core, and Thorn had been struck by dozens; the two she retained were simply the only shards they couldn’t remove.
“There’s still a great deal we don’t know about that incident,” Vron said. “Could you show the other shard, Lantern?”
“Yes, sir.” None of this makes any sense. Still, she pulled her shirt up, revealing the lighter stone embedded in her spine.
“Two stones,” Drix whispered. “And you’re Thorn.”
Oargev and Boranel seemed equally baffled by the turn of events.
Cadrel spoke first. “And so it seems that our life is just a fairy tale,” the old bard said. “Grand in its way. What comes next? A ritual under the towering oaks of the Eldeen Reaches with five
Similar Books
