Page 57 of Jeweler to the Blessed
Hart stepped forward. I folded my arms over my chest at his approach. His smile was maybe the first genuine one I’d seen as he took another step toward the counter.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
My mouth hung open. His apology made even less sense than his actions.
“You’ve been through a lot the last few days, and I’m not making it any easier. I’ve helped the Feared before, but as you saw, not all of them are who I thought they were.”
I gave him an assessing stare. “That doesn’t explain why you helped them.”
“And Alaric never explained why he worshiped Eris. We don’t always get to know why. I need it to be enough for now that I’m more interested in your safety than I am in their goals.”
If I wasn’t willing to go to the prince about switching guards, I gave myself no choice but to accept his apology. “Fine.”
He didn’t wear the stolen ring anymore. He must have given it to the Feared. It still bothered me that I didn’t know wherehisadamas was. It was unusual not to show it. “Where is your adamas?”
He laughed. “I’d rather leave it to your imagination.”
I hated myself as my gaze roamed his uniform. Even beneath the tight fit, I didn’t see the outline of a stone against his chest.
“See something you like, Chaos?”
My gaze snapped to his face. A smirk curved his lip, and his brow was raised in challenge.
“You shouldn’t call me that.”
He canted his head. Slow steps brought him across the storefront to the counter. He pressed his palms to it and leaned across, his eyebrow still raised. “I find the more I’m around you, the more you inspire it. It suits you.”
I raised both arms and gestured around the room. “It’s still not wise to grant me the credit of a goddess. Better not to tempt fate.”
He laughed again. This one richer and smokier than the hollow ring from our earlier argument. The low rumble did something to me that I was unwilling to examine. “I don’t think she’d mind.”
His words were confident. A truth cementing in place between us that I didn’t understand.
19
Maybe Chaos knew what she was doing after all.
— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS
My palms were sweaty, and my fingers shook nervously as I readied Alaric’s workshop to work the adamas. Each piece from the mines was small, but they still needed to be cut down before I could start preforming. This was the start of my next test. Could I shape the adamas to hold magic?
Alaric had determined that only adamas, as such a hard material, could be used to shape adamas. Any excess stone was returned to the tools used to cut, shape, and polish. He’d made saw blades of adamas for such a purpose.
Hesitation would only give me more time to worry. As much as I hated it, I knew my instincts would guide me with the stone. I pulled the blade from its wrap in the drawer andset up the first piece. Father liked to use a vice to hold the gem in place for the more significant cuts, but Alaric insisted one needed to hold the adamas to feel its true shape. His method included someone holding the adamas in place while he cut.
I’d never cut the adamas myself.
My experience was with quartz, and the materials were identical to everyone but me and Alaric. Hopefully, that was good enough. I swallowed, and Alaric’s absence hit me again like a punch in the gut. There was no getting around the fact that this part was a two-person job.
I heated the wax to hold the gem securely. There was no time to wish Alaric were here. Whatever led to this situation—it was now mine to deal with.
The professional challenge of the work overtook me. I wanted to prove that I could do this. A new task was exactly what I needed to focus on amid everything else.
In the back of my mind, I knew I’d have to decide at some point what to do with the adamas. Part of me still wondered if there was any chance I could swap it with quartz—do something to limit the power I granted. I’d been avoiding the question. If I truly believed the Blessed made a decision the moment they took the adamas, I knew I would be making my own decision the moment I turned adamas rings over to the Glanmores for use.
The gem may not be for me, but I’d judge myself just as harshly for enabling them.
Tonight was the Cornucopia, which meant I had six days to make a choice I could live with.
