Sword of the Scarred by Jeffrey Hall

Author:Jeffrey Hall [Hall, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hallway To Elsewhere
Published: 2020-06-17T22:00:00+00:00

When she blinked the Abyss was still overhead, forming into a shape like a fist ready to swing. She sat up, expecting to see the grey land rolling out before her, but instead she realized she was still in the stores, and the problem of figuring out how to cover the monstrosity before her still waited her.

The poles. The plants. The Abyss. The hole. It was all there, still not hidden. A problem still not solved.

But the voice was gone, and so was the muddledness of her mind. At least for the time being.

She knew the hourglass was filling on when the emissaries would arrive in Bothane, but the side effects her lack of black lens would cause was a much more pressing issue.

She had one lone nugget left in her pocket. One. Once it was gone then so too would be her trips to the Abyss. So too would be her peace.

She put her fingers on her temples.

Think, Dash. Calm down and think.

She ran through the list of stones in her head like she was running a race, stumbling frequently as she tried to recall the names of the rocks she had treated with, all eighteen of them, their capabilities, and how she could draw their essence.

With caradinium she could create a waterfall that would hide the entire operation, but that would be a foolish illusion that would only draw more attention. With ehrium she thought she could turn some of the plants into flowers. That would only solve half of her problem, not to mention she couldn’t remember the spell. With sky opal she could create a breeze strong enough to push the emissaries aside… until they found their way around such a minor inconvenience.

Think, Dash. Think!

And then it came to her, a memory of when she and Chendra first sat in their family’s apartment alone, without their father, his funeral only completed a few hours prior. They had argued then, out of a fear of what would come, of what they would become without their father holding them together. They argued about what to do next. About how they could keep living with the threat of the tax man constantly lurking.

“I wish he was here,” said Dash, after she had no more tears to give, and their arguments had turned her voice rough and ragged like a pile of jaggomite.

“He’s not,” Chendra had said. “And he won’t be, so might as well start figuring out how to move on without him.”

“He’s down there,” said Dash. “I know he is.”

Chendra had clucked her tongue like Dash was her child and she had disappointed her. “You’re not going to see that man again unless you can conjure up an image of him with owl’s eye.”

Owl’s eye.

A stone whose makeup and color mirrored gold save for the black flecks that tarnished it.

One she had never treated with before.

Damn, she thought.

Treating with a stone meant awakening one’s connection with it. It meant its essence would be a part of her. It also meant poisoning her blood with it.

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