Iron Garland by Jeff Wheeler

Author:Jeff Wheeler [Wheeler, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503903975
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2018-11-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HETAERA

Seeing Caulton’s reaction to the medallion, Cettie immediately closed her fist around it and pulled it back. He was no longer merely surprised—something about the amulet both terrified him and angered him. Juliana looked on in concern.

“The man who kidnapped Anna, who tried to kidnap me.”

“Have you had it all these years?” Caulton asked in dread.

“No!” Cettie explained, “We just came from Dolcoath. The monster in the grotto is loose. When we went there, that man—the kishion—was waiting for us. Rand and the other guards killed him, and they found this around his neck. You clearly recognize it, Master Forshee. What is it?”

“It is called a kystrel. There has not been one in the empire for hundreds of years. They were all destroyed back during the time of the first empress. That one looks quite old.”

“There is a lot of tarnish on it,” Rand said.

“Yes, I noticed. This is terrible news, Cettie. I have a book in my study that shows what they looked like. Come with me.”

Caulton’s study was connected to his classroom by a door. They followed him inside and Cettie stared in wonderment at his collections from his travels. There were Leerings of varying sizes—small ones used to fix seals, larger ones the size of bread loaves. There were so many, each with its own unique power, and a feeling of sweet music ignited her senses. She longed to touch them all, to learn their secrets. A hexagon-shaped one was carved out of a deep-black rock. It looked naturally formed, and she remembered from her studies that basalt formed such a pattern. There was a three-leaf sigil carved into it instead of a face.

Caulton went behind his desk to examine the bookshelves suspended from the walls, loaded with volumes and some golden tomes that were clearly of ancient origin. He rifled through the books as the three of them gathered around his desk. The small room felt crowded and confined. Rand stood very close to her, but his gaze was on his old teacher.

After some searching, Caulton took one of the books away from the shelf and laid it flat on his desk. The desk was tidy, but it, too, held a collection of oddities—an hourglass filled with white sand, a small leather-bound book wedged in between a sculpted set of bookends carved to resemble mythical dragons, an assortment of stubbed quills and inkwells and stacks of paper, scriving tools, and a wax tablet. The room smelled interesting, of leather and burnt metal, and it reminded her a little of Fitzroy’s study.

Caulton flipped through pages, gazing at the book intently.

“What exactly is a kystrel?” Juliana said, leaning over the desk to gaze at the book. “I thought they were a species of bird.”

“They are,” he answered and then tapped his finger on one of the pages. He beckoned Cettie over to examine the image. “Look. Isn’t that the same design?”

Cettie opened her hand and compared the two. The medallion did appear to match the picture, especially the whorl-like pattern found throughout nature.

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