Page 5 of Jeweler to the Blessed
The Oldwood Mine was deep in the forest, near the mountain foothills. Alaric visited regularly, to direct the miners to the adamas deposits within. Usually, he journeyed during the morning shift. The dark cover of the Oldwood’s trees was a little less threatening in the light of day.
“If you know so much about my whereabouts last night, why don’t you tell me?” Alaric said.
That wasn’t a denial. I was fascinated by this man’s understanding of Alaric. He jabbed at him, even as he showed concern. It sounded like they were … friends.
The pattern of Alaric’s work, both the demands of the Blessed’s schedule and his inquisitive nature, made him independent. He could be lost for days when inspiration struck for an experiment or project. It was another reason why I met him here in the mornings. I never knew when he needed to be brought back to reality. He frequently reminded me that he was an adult and could care for himself in my absence. I hoped that was true.
“I think you went to the mines. I think you know something you’re not sharing.” The man’s voice grew hard at the last statement.
I couldn’t comprehend what Alaric might be doing at the mines at night. Would he even be granted entry without a visit scheduled by the king?
The man’s pale white hand reached for Alaric’s shoulder, and I flinched back, thinking the hand was reaching for me. It was a familiar gesture, one I couldn’t comprehend why Alaric would allow. This man was Blessed. We’d heard the ring knock against the window. Even though Alaric wasn’t like me, it was still dangerous to let his hand so close to Alaric’s skin.
Many Blessed were known to take first and claim an accident later.
The stranger’s ensuing words were so soft that I almostmissed them. “You know what this means to me. I’m running out of time.”
It was unusual because the Blessed had nothing but time. Between stealing lust and joy, they had healing magic and eternal youth. Time was not in short supply.
The adamas ring on the man’s finger drew my gaze, now visible where he gripped Alaric’s shoulder. Was Alaric going to let himtake? Stealing emotion could drain energy, but it wasn’t necessarily deadly. Some girls in my building said the pleasure from the touch made it worthwhile. It seemed fitting that a predator would have a means to lure its prey.
I held my breath to see what the adamas would signal—a different color for each emotion. This was another secret I kept. Only the Blessed could see the color in the gems. I wasn’t Blessed, but I could see the magic on display. Not even Alaric could do that.
“You know I’d tell you if I could.” Alaric sounded sincere, if not a little sad. The ring on the man’s finger was still clear.
The gem flashed color when emotion was taken and it glowed a solid color when the stored emotion’s magic was used. One emotion fueled one magic, each connected by a color. Red for anger, granting physical strength. Orange for lust, granting physical healing. Yellow for happiness, its magic granting eternal youth, the ageless physical appearance of the Blessed. It was common to see these collected and wielded.
The second set of powers manipulated the mind instead of the body. The emotions required for these magics were deeper—more complex.
Green for envy, fueling the power of persuasion. It was a dangerous thing to have the ability to convince people to do something they wouldn’t otherwise.
Blue for sadness, fueling the power to calm. It may seem harmless on the surface, but I’d witnessed King Rodric wield acalm so intense it was an opiate to the masses, those soothed unable to remember the horrors they’d been ready to protest.
I’d never seen the last color firsthand. As the passage fromChampions of Kaviosindicated, only one could wield it: violet for fear, fueling the power of nightmares. The wielder made those impacted see images of their greatest nightmares played out. The power alone made me hopeChampions of Kavioswas more fiction than Alaric claimed.
The stranger stared at Alaric for a long time, locked in a wordless battle I didn’t understand. Alaric’s body still blocked my view of the man. With no sign of change in his ring, I tilted my head to see if the mirror would grant a glimpse of him from any angle.
A silent gasp slipped from my lips as his gaze lifted. Forest green eyes met mine in the mirror. This wasn’t a sip of whisky—it was a full glass—downed all at once. Warmth flooded my senses, and I clenched, waiting for the bite that was sure to come.
It lasted less than a second. I didn’t think Alaric realized what the man had done. He’d known precisely where to look to check the mirror—further evidence of his familiarity with the workshop. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d seen me. I held my breath as my heart galloped. What would the man do with the information that someone was behind the curtain?
The man dropped his hand. “Fine.”
Alaric’s head dipped in a nod.
“Should Ava expect you tonight for the youngleaf?”
The ground shook beneath my feet. An earthshake. I glanced at the mirror to see Alaric holding the door frame for support.
The movement stopped as quickly as it started.
A brief rattle, not even enough to break one of the glass beakers on the workbench. Still, I knew what it had to be.
“The mines,” Alaric said.
The man growled something unintelligible under his breath, then turned on his heel and stormed off down the street. Alaric’s forehead rested on the doorframe with the stranger’s departure as if that conversation had cost him more than I could understand.
The earthshake should have worried me more, but their growing frequency left me numb to their impacts, and Alaric’s behavior was too unusual. Hoping no one was injured, I padded to the storage room with soft steps. I didn’t want Uncle to know how closely I’d been watching.
