Page 115 of The Daughters of Avalon
Passed down through the ages, the scrying stone was powerful, indeed. As the story went, even as the Witch GoddessCerridwen had been sucked into the depths of her watery prison, her screams had formed bubbles that drifted to the surface. The instant her breath returned to theaether, it solidified into crystals, the largest being the crystal Seren held in her hands—Merlin’s Jewel. In the stone’s opaque, vaguely shimmering depths, she saw lithe figures arising from mist… a man … kneeling… and… Rosalynde, seated on a stump in her nun’s habit. Herglamourwas gone, and she was watching some man kindle his fire.
Arwyn gasped, sounding dismayed. “She has revealed herself,” she said.
Seren tilted her head to continue watching. “Not necessarily… the crystal would naturally reveal her to us; it would never be fooled by herglamour.”
“What should we do?”
The sun was rising, sending tendrils of soft pink in through their windows. Soon the palace would wake, with a great swell of breath, like a stone beast arising from slumber.
And soon… Morwen was bound to return.
Some part of Seren longed to ask the crystal where she might be, but both she and her sister were still beguiled by the images the crystal had revealed to them—Rosalynde… in the company of… was he her champion?
And then Seren looked closer… recognizing the man. “Sweet, merciful Goddess!”
“What is it, Seren?”
Seren’s hand flew to her lips in wonder. “That, my dearest Arwyn, is Giles de Vere.”
Arwyn’s entire face screwed with confusion. “Yourbetrothed?”
“So it seems.”
The sisters lifted their gazes to peer into one another’s eyes, blinking in surprise. Why would Seren’s betrothed beRosalynde’s champion? Could it be that he was acting in her mother’s behalf? What were they doing together?
“Will she be alright?”
Seren’s brows drew together and she shook her head, but she said, “He did not strike me as an evil man, but who can say, Arwyn. The Goddess works in mysterious ways.”
“What should we do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should we warn Rose?”
Seren inhaled a fortifying breath, though she still could not wrest her gaze away from the crystal. “Nay,” she said. “We daren’t risk it… not now. Instead, we must pray he was sent to aid her.”
The sounds of people stirring resounded from the hall, doors opening, whispers filtering in under the crack beneath their door. “If we mean to, we must go now,” urged Arwyn, peering nervously at the door.
At last, Seren lifted her gaze from the crystal. “What about the scrying stone?”
“We cannot leave it.”
But it was too big to carry afoot. Morwen had a special leather pouch that hung over her pommel, but they would have no horse to carry it, and even now, it felt inordinately heavy in Seren’s hands, because within its hallowed depths, it bore all the possibilities of theaether—all things to come, all things past, and all things that lingered in twilight.
For a long, long moment, the sisters stared at one another, their gazes shifting back and forth, one to another, and each to Merlin’s Jewel, where Rosalynde and her dubious champion remained visible.
Giles de Vere had abandoned the woodpile, and moved to sit beside their sister, and Arwyn said softly, “Do it, Seren. The Goddess will forgive you.”
Ancient and irreplaceable, there was no other scrying stone of its worth in the entire World. There were certainly others with less power, but this was the only crystal born of the breath of the dragon. Like the Book of Secrets, it was priceless. “Do it,” Arwyn said, urging her.
Seren, gave her sister a nod of accord, and with one last glance at the door—lest Morwen enter and surprise them—and an inhale of breath for courage, she lifted her arms high and brought them crashing down, releasing the ancient stone to the floor. It shattered at their feet, exploding into a thousand shards, its vague sea-green glow at once diminished, like a flame extinguished.
At once, both girls bent to grab a small piece—if only for posterity—and then, shoving the pieces of Merlin’s Jewel into their rucksacks, they left what remained on the floor, rushing to the door.
Chapter
Sixteen
