Page 57 of The Forest Bride
She laughed. “He called them seeing-stones and truth stones and he showed us how to use them. I did not have much success with it. Though now and then I saw something unusual.” She did not say more, sensing his skepticism.
He brought one of the stones to his left eye. “I just see water and rocks.”
“Wait a bit. You might see the future.”
He chuckled. “Seeing the future would be useful. I hear King Edward has a passion for gathering prophets and seers and astrologers and such so he can know the future.”
“He only wants to hear that he will succeed.”
“True. Go on, take a look. You have been taught by the master of such things.”
She raised one of the small stones to her eye. “Grandda had some beautiful seeing-stones. He gave me one,” she ventured.
“Did he?”
She drew a breath. “The brooch. The cloak pin that I lost.”
“The one that was taken from you?” He stared at her, tilting his head.
“The one you did not take when Menteith offered it.”
“You had just shot the man,” he reminded her. “The brooch did not seem important at the time. I swear, lass, I would have given it to you had I known.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Did the faery queen give it to your grandfather?”
“So he said. And he always told the truth. Always,” she added firmly.
“True Thomas, aye. There are stories that he met the faery queen and went with her into that realm for a few years, then came back with a gift of prophecy and truth-telling.”
“Seven years, they say, though he said it seemed like three or less. From the day he returned, he made predictions, and sometimes used seeing-stones to show him what was otherwise unknown.” She sighed, thinking of the blue and silver brooch, Thomas’s truth stone.
Impatience swamped her then. Lilias was somewhere, and Andrew, and the brooch too—and yet she was here with DuncanCampbell. The power of that had a strong pull, but she must not let it overtake what was most important.
He looked at her, tipping his head. “What is it, lady? If I could give you the cloak pin now, I would. If I could bring Lady Lilias back to you, I would.”
“Would you?”
He nodded. “We will find her. And Andrew. And your pin.”
It was as if he had read her thoughts, clear as the water at their feet. She nodded too, flooded with relief. He was beginning to believe her. She crouched beside the pool and waggled her fingers in water that was translucent, refreshing, and cold. She reached down to sift through sand and pebbles, tipping forward a little.
“Careful. It is slippery,” Duncan said.
Scooping her hand through the water, Margaret brought her hand up and opened her palm. A stone with a hole lay in it. Standing, whirling to show him, she slipped on wet shale and one foot plunked into the water.
He was there, pulling her toward him even as she felt the tug of the current that drove the water over the falls and around the pool. His arm came about her shoulders to steady her. She shook her foot, the boot wet.
“Did you find a faery stone?”
She showed him the pale little stone, crudely pitted, its hole a perfect circle. She held it up to her eye. “I see the pool, the waterfall, the trees. I see…Bran and Lennox wondering if we are ever coming back.”
“That is the truth,” he said wryly.
“I see—” She stopped. Someone moved in the distance along a hill. A dark-haired girl, just a slight form in a cloak. She lowered the stone.
Just water, the falls, the trees. Frowning, she put the stone to her eye again.
“Something interesting?”
She lowered the stone. “I thought I saw—but it was just water and trees. We should find the others so we can fly the birds.”
